#the only survivor winner in my eyes

[camojacketfag]

“Nice girls don’t win…”

Parvati Shallow for Paper Magazine (2024)

[idksmtms]

The Prettiest Trophy - Capitol Elite!Aegon II Targaryen x Games Winner!reader (Hunger Games AU)

Summary: You never thought you would make it out of the hunger games, but now you have another fight ahead of you. What do you do when one of the most powerful citizens of the capitol has chosen you to be his? 

Word count: 3.5k 

Trigger Warnings: 18+, she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, profanity, innuendo, Dub-con due to power imbalance, coercion too ig (???), some angst (reader talks about survivor’s guilt from the games),  p in v s*x, unprotected s*x, oral f receiving, degradation (constantly referring to lesser status of districts), objectification and ownership,  (please let me know if I missed any) 

Rating: 18+, MDNI

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters. I do not claim to own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters. I do not own any pictures used nor do I claim to do so. 

Always appreciate comments, likes, and reblogs :) 

AN: Aaaaa my first fic finally! Didn't mean to make it this long but I got a bit carried away! I hope you enjoy! (Side note: I was imagining his hair as the style in the black and white pic, just with Targaryen white, Side note 2: I def realise the references to the way Gollum talks about the ring, IT WAS ON PURPOSE)

You never thought you would leave the arena. Every second could have been your last and you still didn’t quite believe you had made it out, that you were standing outside the President’s mansion at a lavish party, dressed in silks and jewels. No one told you how to live after the games were over. It had taken you three days just to be able to get out of bed and move around again after leaving the arena. Being at this party? It felt like a betrayal to all the people who had died so you could live. You sipped from the sickly sweet drink that almost seemed to glow in the night, and looked around the garden. 

Most people had finally left you alone thankfully, though you could still see eyes turning your way, whispers and conversations pointed toward your presence in the garden. At least no one was trying to force you into a picture like some capitol celebrity anymore. 

People in the most lavish costumes customary of the capitol milled about, talking, whispering, cackling like witches in their modified bodies with their modified voices. It was a horror show. The gardens had been decorated with delicate yellow fairy lights strung up in the trees and over poles around the tables. You assumed they wanted to give it a warm and welcoming look with the yellow lighting but it only cast grotesque shadows on the building that was not only the backdrop to this party, but to all your nightmares. There were tables set up with stark white tablecloths draped over them, an area cleared away for a dance floor, and more noise coming from the entrance to the mansion. Avoxes walked around carrying trays of food and drink between their hands, heads bent low, and shame began to rise inside you. What were you doing here? Why were you forced to be here?

There was someone behind you. You didn’t know when you had become so aware of any presence, probably somewhere between fending off humans and wildlife alike in the arena, and you could distinctly feel someone behind you. A slight shadow fell over your shoulders. A small touch rustled the train of your dress. Someone cleared their throat. You turned around, hands quivering, and looked at the man smirking broadly at you. Your first thought, shamefully: was he even real? 

His hair was so blond it was white, cut short and combed back so perfectly he could be no less than an aristocrat. He wore a suit of dark grey over a black shirt, one of the less eccentrically dressed people at the party. But his shoes were lavish. Black and shinier than anything you had ever seen, embroidered with gold thread, gold jewellery dangling from the laces and gems stamped into the fabric. Surely this man was of the richest of the rich, because even in the capitol people were wont to have shoes so lavish. You stared at his shoes for a good minute, whole body frozen, when he cleared his throat once more. You looked at his eyes. You couldn’t tell if they were more blue or grey, like ice had formed over a stormy ocean. 

“And who might you be?” He asked, mouth still smiling, before he brought his glass up to his lips and took a drink while waiting for your answer. 

“You don’t know who I am?” You asked, almost taking a step back. That couldn’t be true. Viewing was mandatory, your face had been plastered across every screen in Panem for weeks, it couldn’t be true that he didn’t know you. And yet… for a moment… it felt so good not to be recognised. You were just some other girl, lost in the crowd at a party, who hadn’t gone through what you had gone through. 

“Well, I may know of you, but I don’t know you know you,” his smile had softened and he stepped closer until his elbow lightly brushed yours and you were both looking out at the party.

“I suppose that’s true,” you answered quietly, still watching his face. His skin was almost as dangerously pale as his hair, and sallow, like he was never quite in the best of health. Though you couldn’t deny the truth, he was a handsome man regardless of his slightly ragged appearance. 

“Aegon Targaryen the second,” he held out his hand, running his eyes over your face like he hadn’t gathered enough of it the first time, “and you?” 

“Y/n L/n,” you breathed out, reaching out an unsteady hand to limply shake his own. He gently clasped your fingers and brought your hand to his mouth, pressing his lips to your knuckles before releasing your hand. It was such an odd sensation, his hot breath brushing over the back of your hand, his fingertips slightly rough - but not enough to suggest any sort of manual labour - clasping the skin of your palm. Your cheeks went hot, the tips of your ears tingling, and you continued staring at this enigma. 

“How has the capitol been treating you?” He asked, chugging the rest of his drink and depositing it on the tray of an Avox as they passed by like some well-practised dance. You didn’t want to reply. “Well, I suppose you haven’t had the time to truly enjoy it. At least, not the truly fun bits anyway,” he shrugged, tilting his head and looking at you like it was a particularly amusing thing he just said. 

You couldn’t understand this at all. Who was this man? What was this interaction? What did he want with you? Why was he acting so mundane, like this was normal?! None of this was normal. 

Noticing the look on your face, Aegon chuckled and reached forward to push some hair over your shoulder. It took everything within you to hold in your shiver. 

“Ah, you must be confused about who I am! I shouldn’t have assumed you would understand the name Targaryen. We may be famous in the capitol but who knows what goes on in the districts,” you swallowed hard and nodded, trying not to flinch at the dig. “Our family works in all sorts of sectors, for example, my uncle Daemon is responsible for manufacturing arms for the state, my younger brother Aemond works under the president in some position or other - god knows he never shuts up about it - and my father currently runs the peacekeeper program. Of course I’m expected to step up to that eventually but- I won’t bore you with the details.” 

You didn’t really consider that work. You had seen the way your parents toiled in the factory every day, had seen the way every member of your family slowly became a hunchback from their work. But you weren’t going to say anything to him. 

“What does your family do?” He asked, and again you almost moved out of surprise. His face seemed so sincere as he watched you, waiting for an answer. 

“I’m from District 8, so my parents work the looms,” you answered slowly. You almost sounded condescending, like you were talking to someone who couldn’t quite understand your words, but Aegon understood it was the shock of him speaking to you. After all, it had only been a week since you had left the arena, he understood how difficult it would be to gain your confidence. It didn’t mean he wouldn’t try. And Aegon was a firm believer that flattery could get you anywhere, especially a girl’s bed. So he decided to change course. 

“Do you see that man over there?” He pointed discreetly to a spot just to your right and you shuffled back so you could look over without being noticed. You sipped from your glass as you noticed the man, an older gentleman wearing a full fursuit topped with a lion’s mane going around his head. Even his face had been painted with fur and whiskers to resemble a lion with the body of a human. You nodded to Aegon, turning away from the man. Something about that picture made you uncomfortable in a way you had never been before. “Well, rumour has it that he wears that entire get up, face paint and all mind you, every time he fucks.” You gasped, staring at Aegon with eyes so wide they started to hurt. 

“You can’t be serious,” you whispered sharply. 

“I am the most serious, dearest. Why would I lie to you?” He smirked, leaning closer once more. He draped his arm over your shoulder and you stiffened for a moment before continuing to listen to his next story. 

You were slowly beginning to relax in Aegon’s company as he continued to chatter to you. He no longer asked questions or expected you to speak, just pointed out people in the crowd and made colourful commentary that had you hiding your face in his shoulder and giggling against the fabric of his suit. He gazed at you with sparkling eyes full of mirth and shared his ever-full glass of whatever drink they were serving at the time. You couldn’t help but be charmed. Maybe, just maybe, not everyone in the capitol was as bad as they seemed. 

“D’you wanna go somewhere quieter?” He finally asked after completely relieving another stranger of their dignity. You took a moment to catch your breath and looked at him, at the sudden darkening of his eyes and the way his tongue poked out to lick his lips. He watched you like a tiger readying to pounce. You nodded without a second thought. Though he had made the party bearable, anywhere would be better than here. He smiled and reached down, sliding his fingers over your inner wrist, then your palm, then grasping your hand in his own. “Come on.” 

Aegon led you into the house and up the stairs, nodding at random people (who sometimes you could barely recognise as people), skilfully dodging attempts at conversation. Up and up the lavish stairs you went before walking down a large hallway and stopping in front of a wall. Aegon pushed at the wall and it gave way, revealing a spiral staircase in the dark that led up into an abyss. 

“Um, are you sure you know where you’re going?” You asked, pausing at the entrance to the rather dingy looking chamber. 

“There are some perks to having been at the president’s mansion practically since I was born. One of those being secret access to the roof, now come on!” He dragged you into the dark and shut the door behind him, before ushering you up the first steps. 

The staircase really wasn’t all that tall. In fact, you could see the top and light bled down from the opening. Your heels clanked against each step and you almost toppled back into Aegon more than once. Then you were at the top. Then you could see the whole Capitol. Oh it was breathtaking! The whole city, laid out before you like a miniature scene to play with. There were lights glimmering in houses and cars on the roads and life! There were signs of life everywhere. Oh you couldn’t believe it. You almost believed you could see to the very edges of Panem. 

 “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Aegon asked, and you turned to meet his eyes. Both of you had moved right to the edge of the rooftop so you could look out over the party, and he moved to stand directly behind you. You could feel his chest press into your back. The fabric of his shirt rubbed against the skin of your back and he was a solid pressure behind you, like the comfort of a wall at your back when you slept. “Hm?” He asked again, bending his head down to run his nose up your neck. You shivered, the light graze was just ticklish enough to start a spark inside of you. 

 “Yes,” you breathed out, clenching your hands on the concrete to stop yourself from leaning back into him. You didn’t know him. You didn’t really know him. You didn’t know him at all. 

 “You know,” he began slowly, hands going to your shoulders and turning you around to face him. “When I first saw you on the television, the day of the reaping, I knew you would win.” Your breath caught in your throat. Your mouth was so dry. You wished you hadn’t discarded that sweet drink so quickly. “And look at you now,” he leaned in closer, cupping your face to force your eyes to meet his, “you’re the winner, the greatest person in Panem, to come out of the districts anyway.” He gently kissed your right cheek, warm lips on plush skin, and when he pulled away the breeze cooled the hint of saliva he had left behind. “You’re the greatest treasure one could possess, you know?” He kissed your other cheek, firmer this time, like he was trying to leave the imprint of his lips on your skin. “Everyone knows the winner of the Hunger Games, and to say you own them? To parade them on your arm for everyone to see, saying you own the very concept of survival?” He seemed to groan in pleasure, and then everything was moving. 

His lips were on yours, slightly wet and forceful. His tongue was delving into your mouth, tasting like sugar, too much sugar, and you wanted to pull back because it was so overwhelming and everything he had just said and and and… and it felt so good too. It was warm, and desperate, like no one had ever been for you before. 

A hand moved into your hair and grasped the strands at the back of your head tight, pulling slightly to tilt your head back so you had to look up at him. He was almost leaning over you so your spine bent over the edge of the roof, and the skin of your back scratched against the unpainted concrete. He huffed against your mouth then pulled back, his other hand coming up to trace your mouth with his thumb. You stared into his eyes but he wasn’t looking back at you, not really anyway. He was watching his prize, the reward that no one but him deserved. 

You whimpered, a small and pathetic sound that only seemed to make his skin hotter, and he let go of your hair to begin pulling the straps of your dress down your arms. It was a heavy thing, and it felt good to finally be rid of the weight, but you were keenly aware of the cold night and the party in full swing just underneath you. If someone in the garden decided to look up, they would surely see you bent over the edge. 

“Wait-” you began to protest, but Aegon was past listening, past caring. He just shoved the dress under your breasts and down your legs, before grabbing your face and bringing your mouth to his own again. His hands travelled over your neck, then caressed your shoulders. He gently pressed the red indents the straps of the dress had left and you sighed into his mouth, leaning onto his chest. Your nipples rubbed against the fabric of his shirt and you gasped into the kiss before moving your chest slightly. The warm little tingles travelled all the way through your torso and you clung to his arms. 

Aegon kissed sloppily over your cheeks, your neck, pausing to bite into it until you grunted with pain and pushed at his shoulder. He licked all the way down to your chest, his tongue warm and wet, then the slick trail of spit suddenly cold. Your legs felt unsteady, and you leaned back against the barrier as he began mouthing at your breasts, little circles of warmth formed everywhere he kissed, and then his mouth closed over your nipple and you clenched. It was so… weird. A wet suction formed over your nipple and it seemed to make the inside of your breast spark, your stomach jolt, and the space between your thighs tingle and turn to mush. 

“Come on precious,” he mumbled against your skin, “you can be louder,” and he bit the flesh. It really was a live wire attached to your skin, so easy to spark, so easy to create a fire that spread all throughout your body. 

Aegon was quicker with the other nipple, licking over it like a dog with a bowl of water, before making his way down to the apex of your thighs. He seemed to be in a hurry with the way he dove his face between your legs. A cry left your lips, loud and shriek-like, at the overwhelming activity. His nose slipped between your lips and pressed to your clit, his tongue out and flat and lapping against the sticky slick that covered the puffy folds that hid your hole. He was ravenous, pressing his face in in in until you stood on your tiptoes and half your weight was balanced against his face. The contours of his face pressed at your hole, his nose rubbed at your clit, and he moved his face back and forth so his tongue could poke inside of you then slip back into his mouth. He began speaking into you, rumbling words you couldn’t understand over the rushing in your head. 

“Come on, cum on my face,” he huffed, grabbing your thighs and licking at your clit until it was puffy and swollen. “I wan’ you to cum on my face, give me what I want.” He pressed his tongue inside you. In. Out. He licked your clit. In. Out. He sucked it into his mouth, and your legs shook so much that you would’ve fallen onto the floor if you weren’t practically laying on the barrier already. It was a release. That’s all it could be called. Every muscle clenched then released. Even your mind felt like it had slowly been clenching and now it had been unravelled and was slowly dripping out of your skull. 

“Fuck, that’s right,” Aegon mumbled as he pulled away, standing to full height and pulling your hips against his own. His hair had fallen forward into his eyes and his mouth and nose glistened in the low light, but he didn’t seem to care one bit. He had leaned over your body again, pressing his face into your neck. The slick on his chin stuck to your skin and squished whenever he moved. He humped into you a few times, grunting and groaning, before hurriedly reaching down and fumbling with his belt and zipper. You could hear the clanking of metal, the rustle of fabric, and then something warm pressing to your thigh. 

There was no waiting with Aegon. His body simply didn’t contain the patience for it, and really why would you wait when the prize you had so long coveted lay bare before you, just ripe for the taking? A shift here, a push there, and he caught at your entrance. He finally pulled away from your neck and looked into your eyes. He caressed your cheek, and you could tell all he saw was a trophy he had just won. 

Then Aegon pressed into you, and his veins rubbed at your slick insides, pressing against your walls and sliding against your own textured flesh and you were leaning back to moan into the night sky, chest heaving. He kissed your breasts and pushed into you again, his lower stomach pressing your clit. Again, he moved into you and the sparks flashed and you clenched around him, onto him, and he moaned against your ear, hot breath fanning the shell. 

“Fuck yes, you’re my precious little thing aren’t you? Huh? You’re my special little prize?” His hips slapped against yours and the sound echoed over the roof. His mouth biting into your neck sent sparks through you. Back and forth and back and forth and back and forth and oh god it was too much! You clenched onto him and screamed into his neck, open mouth pressed to the sweaty skin. You clenched and unclenched onto him as waves passed through you, melting your flesh and your bones. It was over too soon yet it lasted too long. He pushed once more, twice more, and you could feel him quiver against you, even as you tried to push him away from the pulsing flesh of your insides. You could feel the spurts inside you, hot and gushing. You felt it trickle out of you, slide down your thighs in warm rivulets and you shuddered. 

Aegon still lay on top of you, huffing heavily into your neck. You didn’t know what to do, so you stayed still, waiting for guidance, waiting for the other shoe to fall. He slowly pushed up on his arms so his face hovered above yours, and he smiled a dazed and delirious smile. Was it always there, or had it just appeared, that insanity in his eyes? 

“Oh my precious,” he sighed, cupping your cheek, “we have so much ahead.”

[marsprincess889]

Ketu placement and your most core self

So i want to talk about my personal experience about an artist I love, how she has been haunting me throughout my life and about how art imitates life.

I have ketu in jyeshta nakshatra,(and shoutout to all my 2002 babies with ketu in jyeshta, love u) and at age 10 i discovered an artist whose name i've heard of but never knew. I clicked on a song that youtube recommended called "Back to December" and i really do remember it so clearly, how natural it was and how i wasn't thinking as i branded Taylor Swift (sun in jyeshta) my favourite artist. I remember explaining passionately to my dad why I loved this song and how it differed from RED and how those songs were my safe space because while i had to try hard for anything else, this was natural and easy and just perfect.

Here i credit claire nakti, who you should know if you're interested in vedic astrology. She made a video about ketu and creativity and one's "daemon" that is really worth checking out.

Moving on, ketu is your creative, primal energy that is unaware. It's the headless body, the tail of the serpent, our past, where we come from, what is natural for us, past lives and untamed power. For example, as a ketu in jyeshta native I've always felt close to the hero archetype (I even wrote a song about that around that time), the poor orphan who rises into the world, the brave soldier who outsmarts everyone, the survivor, the winner against all odds, the grumpy independent individual, and even as a young girl, the archetype of the eldest daughter, which I actually am. I've always felt a little masculine at my core, and this explains why, as jyeshta is very masculine. All these archetypes I associate with jyeshta.

Jyeshta is known as "the best". You can only be the best if everyone else is worse, so we have the theme of competition. Jyeshta is located fully in Scorpio, and is very much about the occult side of life. It's shakti (power) is "to rise, conquer and gain courage in battle" (multiple sources). I know personally that jyeshta will never let you win an argument or back away from tension, the exception is only when there's no need to. My jyeshta moon cousin makes me so mad because he's always trying to lecture me to appear smart. That's definitely a more negative manifestation of its energy.

Anyways, in her video, claire nakti says that if you feel drawn to some art, it's been most likely created by someone with their primary placement in your ketu nakshatra. Now, this is not a rule, as I've definitely liked other artists, but Taylor's music felt too personal and custom-made for me, like she knew my taste and life from inside out.

Flash forward to summer 2019 and Taylor has released Lover, I'm sitting on a hill and cannot believe how Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince is so perfect, so me.

I went through my reputation era when she went through it, i went through a personal rebirth as she released Lover, I felt depressed and alone when I finished my school and she released folklore (tbh most of us did(SOLIDARITY TO CLASS OF 2020 MAKE SOME NOISE)) . Around that time I disovered Dickinson(a tv show) and here is my next point.(?)

Dickinson stars Hailee Steinfeld(jyeshta sun) as Emily Dickinson(also jyeshta sun), and it's about her life, yes, but mostly it's about Emily's creativity. There's a character called death that I believe relresents Emily's daemon(watch claire nakti's video for more clarity, but basically it's the opposite sex version of you, your creative self, and is represented by your ketu). Death appears whenever Emily feels different, like she needs time alone to herself and rides with him in his carriage, he also empowers her. Interestingly, Hailee Steinfeld's ketu is in Uttara Bhadrapada, which is Wiz Khalifa's(death) moon. That, in my eyes, solidifies the theory that he's representing her daemon.

I had discovered claire nakti recently at that time and also discovering this art that felt very personal to me was a little overwhelming, not to mention that i was going through a VERY stressful time in my life. As i grew so did my creative energy and I reached a certain block, but now I look at my art from that time and it's so... raw and pure and true. Tbh that time was extremely traumatic for me and it's traumatic to remember it but hey, I'm so much better now. I started my ketu antardasha at that time and it ended in february 2021. Still hard to remember yes, but I heard ketu dashas always are, you always come out more beautiful and true out of it tho 🙂.

So, be careful with ketu energies, they're not for us to misuse. There's always Venus after ketu so it's another reason to smile.

Please interact with me if any of this was interesting or felt familiar. Not all posts are going to be like this, in fact, I think they're gonna be more rare. This was a really serious post and brought up some stuff in me ngl. I really didn't deserve to go through the trauma, nobody does. But it's not all consuming, it was nothing really, it was just traumatic at the time. Anyways this is becoming a lot so wait for more aesthetic posts, I'm venusian after all 💖💖💖 love u guys, take care. 🤍

[alotofrandomfangirling]

Dating Chishiya Shuntaro would include (Chishiya x f!reader headcanons)

Tw: slight cursing, mention of death

A/N: i know i'm a bit late but recently i was able to watch AIB s2 and i completely fell in love with Chishiya?? him as a doctor had an impact on me i could never expect lol so i had to try this 🙈 please notice i don't remember much from s1 so i'm sorry for any mistakes 😅 also english is not my first language, so forgive me for any grammar mistakes 🙏🏻 i hope you like it though!! ♥️

• You both had met when you came out winners on a hearts game

• You were a very smart and strategist player, so Chishiya was really impressed by your abilities

• But of course he had to play it cool not to break his character yk

• You were leaving the arena when you heard someone say in a very nonchalant way: "nice thinking over there"

• You turned around and there he was. Yes, him.

• You had noticed that player during the game

• He was not only extremely smart, but also ruthless while playing

• And, well, you had to admit he was very good looking too

• But what impressed you the most was how he always seemed so calm, like he had 100% control of any situation

• That man was sure fascinating, and he was complimenting you?? You just had to play along

• "You weren't so bad yourself" - you replied, smirking

• He chuckled

• "I'm Chishiya" - he said, putting his hand out for you to shake it

• "Y/N" - you said shaking his hand and looking deep into his eyes

• From that day on, you became inseparable

• The best pair of players Borderlands had ever seen!

• It was like something inside you clicked, you know? Like you were meant to find each other and pair up

• You got along so well cause you understood each other like no one else

• Well, and that was because you were very alike too

• Calm, collected and extraordinarily intelligent

• You were always by each other's side and supporting the other, at the good and bad times

• And you guys nailed every. single. game. you played cause you were such a great team

• After some time you started to feel what happened between you two was more than just a game partnership

• You started to enjoy the way he sounded when he calmly discussed games rules to you, how beautiful his sharp and observant eyes were, the way he put a strand of hair behind his ear...

• You appreciated every little ordinary thing he did cause he was indeed incredible

• Damn could you be falling in love?

• And you could sense he started feeling something... different too

• You could notice he sometimes watched you intently, or how he would make sure you were safe during a game (even though you were perfectly capable of winning it by yourself lol), or how he lightly touched the back of your hand when you were debating a new strategy

• But both of you were stubborn as hell so you were absolutely NOT going to admit any of those feelings

• But one day something happened

• It was a spades game

• And it was pure chaos 💀

• As soon as you got in, Chishiya and you got separated in the chaos of the other players

• And that made you terrified because you got so used to feeling safe with him by your side

• He also got worried, how was he going to face a spades game without his long time partner?

• You fought anyway

• But it was ugly

• People dying everywhere 💔

• You could only try to make it out alive and hope that Chishiya could do the same

• You got really hurt, but you made it

• When you left the arena, you started to look for Chishiya among the survivors, but there was no sign of that platinum hair you loved

• You started crying like a baby at the thought of losing your best friend (or maybe something more?!)

• You just sat down on the sidewalk cause you could barely walk

• Suddenly you heard a familiar voice shouting your name

• "(Y/N)?"

• Just like the first time you met, you turned around and there he was: Chishiya Shuntaro

• He was alive and only had a few bruises, which meant he got off the game easily (for your relief)

• You got up and ran to him

• When you reached him, you both hugged each other so tight you could feel so much being said in that one hug

• 'I missed you'

• 'I'm glad you're alive'

• 'I never want to break apart again'

• You had never hugged each other like this before, so it definitely showed all your feelings in that moment (screw being tough!)

• "Chishiya, thank goodness... i thought... oh my gosh, i thought i'd lost you" - you tried to form a logical sentence between your pain and your uncontrollable sobbing

• You parted from the hug and he looked at you, but he was so affected he couldn't even reply with one those witty responses of his

• Of course he kept his cool like he always did, but there was a disturbance in his eyes you'd never seen before

• Was it... because of you and how worried he was?

• Did this man really care for you?!

• That thought itself made you so dizzy you nearly tumbled on the ground again

• He went to catch you before you fell and that's when he noticed your deep wounds bleeding

• The look of worry in his eyes got worse as he caught you and said "come on, let's get you out of here"

• When you finally got somewhere safe, he had you lay down and bandaged your wounds

• His touch was so soft and caring (his doctor side showing up 😭) you could feel the butterflies in your stomach

• "Okay, now get some sleep" - he said when he finished

• You thanked him and immediatly fell asleep, but you were so tired and overwhelmed you think you accidentally let slip an "i love you" before?

• Oh boy

• That wasn't good

• Let's hope he didn't hear that 😅

• On the next day, he came to check on you after you woke up

• He once again examined you with those caring eyes and crap there were those butterflies again

• "It's okay, you'll be fine soon. Just... take it easy on the next days, okay?" - he almost pleaded

• "Thank you, Chishiya" - you said and hugged him again

• "No problem, (Y/N). I just... think maybe we should talk about you confessing your feelings last night?" - he said with that smug face of his

• You got as red as a tomato

• Yeah so he heard that

• You had to find a way to get out of that situation and fast

• You decided to play the tough girl like you always did

• "Ah yes, that... well, i was very tired and overwhelmed from the game, so i probably said some super sappy stuff, but it was just in the heat of the moment. Don't worry, i don't really mean it" - you said shrugging and trying to be convincible lol

• "Oh is that so?" - he replied, raising one eyebrow - "that's a shame, cause i was about to say i feel the same" - the bastard said smirking

• "Wait, what?"

• Yep.

• And that's how you became a thing

• Needless to say that you became the hottest couple in all Borderlands, in and outside the games lol

• Your friends teased you a lot in the beginning

• Specially Kuina

• "Hey Chishiya, don't you think (Y/N) looks lovely today with her hair like that?"

• "Shut up, Kuina" - he said rolling his eyes as she giggled like a fangirl watching her OTP

• But soon they got used to it, since you were always together even before becoming a couple

• And you were a very discreet couple

• Since both of you had a "tough" image to keep, you weren't much of PDA

• Heck, after all you've been through together you were waaay past the "crushing" stage, you were almost on true love basis by now lol

• So there was really no need to be "visual" 😂

• But if there's one thing Chishiya loved is holding hands

• Yep, he would give up on his coolness and take his hands out of his pockets to hold yours (but only for that lol)

• No words were needed, you just intertwined fingers and stood like that, feeling each other's presence

• It was a tiny way to tell everyone you belonged to each other and you were cool with that

• So he would always reach out for your hand when preparing for a game or when he felt someone was getting too close to you

• He would go piercing eyes mode with that "100% done" face of his directly to the person until they felt so uncomfortable they gave up lol

• Not that Chishiya was a jealous guy

• Not at all

• Going through everything you guys went together, both of you were sure you loved and respected each other

• But he liked to show other people you were his and only his

• Cause he felt very proud and lucky to be with such a special girl like you

• You also liked to "claim" him (lol) by randomly hugging him from behind

• You loved feeling the fabric of his jacket on his thin arms and inhaling his soft smell

• He would not show any reaction, except for a little humming to show he was enjoying it 🙈

• Sometimes he'd let you wear his jacket too 🤫

• But only when both of you were alone

• Ahh yes when you were alone things were different 😏

• There was no "playing tough" anymore so you could just love each other 🥹

• Chishiya was sooooo caring

• Being at Borderlands was so lonely he really enjoyed being able to have your company

• He loved just laying down and cuddling you

• It was a moment of peace among the chaos of Borderlands

• And with his favorite person (spoiler: you), so it was even more perfect 💗

• He would close his eyes and trace circles down your back to feel you were there with him, even with everything happening around

• And you, well, you loved playing with his hair

• Omg his hair was a personal obsession of yours

• You loved it cause it was so him?

• Stylish and unique

• So you always took some time to admire it

• Sometimes he'd let you do his hair in a ponytail (just like the one in the hospital flashbacks 🥹)

• He said it was relaxing to have your hands on his hair

• Him with a relaxed face and closed eyes while you did his hair was the cutest sight ever 😭

• He did look like a kitty cat 🥺🤏🏻

• It all always ended with soft kisses on each other's cheeks and lips to show affection 💗

• During the games you guys were very focused in winning, but you also checked on each other from time to time

• You got along so well, you could communicate with just a simple look

• He'd search for your eyes and when you gave him a reassuring look with a nod, you'd know you were both okay

• You also liked laying your head on his shoulder when you were too tired from playing

• You'd sit on the floor and lay your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes and feeling his presence

• He got super soft when you did that T.T

• And he'd always take care of you while playing too

• Like quickly checking for bruises

• Asking if you're okay

• Bringing your favorite cookies for you when playing Solitary Confinement 😭❤️

• "Mine are better though"

• "Shut up, Chishiya" - you'd shove him playfully

• And it was like that everyday, anytime you could steal a little moment to be together

• Kisses

• Hugging

• Holding hands

• And those tiny little acts of love and companionship

• You really loved each other and were going to do anything to stay together, in or outside Borderlands ❤️

[mellarkdandelion]

“as if to cheer me up, she says maybe district twelve will finally have a winner. then I realized, she didn’t mean me, she meant you!”

“she said ‘she’s a survivor that one.’ she is.”

that pulls me up short. did his mother really say that about me? did she rate me over her son? i see the pain in Peeta’s eyes and know he isn’t lying.

suddenly I’m behind the bakery and I can feel the chill of the rain running down my back, the hollowness in my belly. I sound eleven years old when I speak.

“but only because someone helped me.”

[goodnightmemes]

CATCHING FIRE (2013) SENTENCE STARTERS

feel free to change pronouns / terms / tense as needed!

❛ You're okay. You're safe. It's okay. You're here with me. ❜

❛ It's only a few weeks. I'll be back before the snow melts. ❜

❛ A lot can happen in a few weeks. ❜

❛ I did what I had to do to survive. If I didn't, I'd be dead. ❜

❛ If you wanted to be babied, you should've asked [name]. ❜

❛ You are a strangely dislikeable person. But you do have your virtues. ❜

❛ Such bravery. Such spirit. Such…contempt. ❜

❛ My dear, I think we can make this so much simpler if we agree not to lie to each other. What do you think? ❜

❛ What is to prevent, say, an uprising? That can lead to revolution. And then, in a fraction of time, the whole system collapses. ❜

❛ You should imagine thousands upon thousands of your people dead. This town of yours reduced to ashes. Imagine it gone. ❜

❛ Tell me. At what point did he realize the depth of your indifference towards him? ❜

❛ I don't want to kill you. I want us to be friends. But if not friends, then allies. ❜

❛ That was nice acting. Almost thought that kiss was real. ❜

❛ All you need to do is give a few speeches, wave to the crowds, and enjoy your time in the spotlight. ❜

❛ I'm really not in the mood for a lecture. I'll apologize to [name] later. ❜

❛ You don't have to apologize to anybody. Including me. ❜

❛ If you can stop looking at me like I'm wounded, then I can quit acting like it. ❜

❛ I've never been very good at friends. ❜

❛ She was too young, too gentle. And I couldn't save her. I'm sorry. ❜

❛ Wait! No! Leave him alone! ❜

❛ I never meant for anyone to get killed. ❜

❛ I'm sorry. I didn't know what to do. He threatened to kill my family. ❜

❛ Well, I have family, too. Okay? People that I need to protect. ❜

❛ Come here. You're gonna be okay. I promise. ❜

❛ It was just a dream. I'm sorry. ❜

❛ Will you stay with me? ❜

❛ We could get married. ❜

❛ Eyes bright. Chins up. Smiles on. I'm talking to you, [name]. ❜

❛ Everybody who's anybody is here. And they all want to meet you. ❜

❛ It's appalling. Still, if you abandon your moral judgment, it can be fun. ❜

❛ Well, maybe it was you who inspired me to come back. ❜

❛ She's not who they think she is. She's not a leader. She just wants to save her own skin. It's as simple as that. ❜

❛ I agree she should die. But in the right way. At the right time. ❜

❛ It's moves and countermoves. ❜

❛ It won't work. Fear does not work as long as they have hope. ❜

❛ They're gonna hate her so much they might just kill her for you. ❜

❛ If we leave right now, we can be far away from here by tonight. ❜

❛ [name] threatened to have you killed. ❜

❛ You know how I feel about you. But I can't think about anyone that way right now. ❜

❛ The only thing that I can think about every day, every waking moment, is how afraid I am. There's no room for anything else. ❜

❛ You haven't hurt people. You've given them an opportunity. They just have to be brave enough to take it. ❜

❛ We have to go before they kill us. They will kill us. ❜

❛ People are looking to you. ❜

❛ I don't want anyone looking to me. I can't help them. ❜

❛ Look, you're new here. Trust me, I'm trying to help you. ❜

❛ Thought you'd be gone by now. ❜

❛ I'm not going anywhere. I'm gonna stay right here. Cause all kinds of trouble. ❜

❛ How can we live like this? How can anybody live like this? ❜

❛ You understand that whatever I do comes back to you. I don't want you to get hurt. ❜

❛ You don't have to protect me. ❜

❛ If you cannot contain [name], then I will have to terminate her. ❜

❛ And you've come to, what? Ask me to... die? ❜

❛ What's it say that [name] was here 45 minutes ago begging to save your life and you only just now show up? ❜

❛ You could live 100 lifetimes and never deserve that boy. ❜

❛ There are survivors. There's no winners. ❜

❛ Do whatever you can. [name] lives. Not me. Promise me. ❜

❛ How could any of us even trust each other? ❜

❛ It's not about trust. It's about staying alive. ❜

❛ You look pretty terrifying in that getup. ❜

❛ I haven't dealt in anything as common as money in years. ❜

❛ I'm an open book. Everybody always seems to know my secrets before I know them myself. ❜

❛ So what do you think? Now that the whole world wants to sleep with you? ❜

❛ I guess we just try to figure out who we trust least and work our way backwards from there. ❜

❛ There's always a flaw in the system. ❜

❛ How are we gonna kill these people? ❜

❛ God! Does anybody actually believe this? ❜

❛ You know, I'm getting totally screwed over here. ❜

❛ Well, you know what? Fuck that! And fuck everybody that had anything to do with it! ❜

❛ Just be your usual self. Actually, be your happier self. ❜

❛ Make him pay for it. ❜

❛ We're a team. Aren't we? ❜

❛ You both deserved so much better. ❜

❛ Any last advice? ❜

❛ Stay alive. ❜

❛ Remember who the real enemy is. ❜

❛ I don't want to be with anyone else in there. Just you. ❜

❛ Look at this. They're holding hands. I want them dead. ❜

❛ Good thing we're allies, right? ❜

❛ Well, I guess we're not holding hands any more. ❜

❛ I don't care about any of them. ❜

❛ Be careful. There's a force field up there. ❜

❛ Oh, my God. You were dead. Your heart stopped. ❜

❛ Someday I want to love someone that much. ❜

❛ We should set up camp. Take turns sleeping. I can take first watch. ❜

❛ That thing I did back there for [name]? That was called "saving his life." ❜

❛ If I wanted to kill either of you, I would've done it by now. ❜

❛ Don't worry about anything else. I'll be right here with you. It's okay. It's okay. ❜

❛ She sacrificed herself for me and I didn't even know her name. ❜

❛ They know they're outnumbered. I doubt they'll attack again. ❜

❛ They can't hurt me. There's no one left that I love. ❜

❛ Love is weird. ❜

❛ I don't want to be the one that shoots first. ❜

❛ They're not gonna make that same mistake again. ❜

❛ You know and I know there's only one person walking out of here. ❜

❛ If you die and I live, I'd have nothing. Nobody else that I care about. ❜

❛ See, this is why no one lets you make the plans. ❜

❛ We couldn't tell you with [name] watching. It was too risky. Better for you to know nothing. ❜

❛ You have been our mission from the beginning. ❜

❛ This is the revolution. ❜

❛ You promised me that you would save him over me! ❜

❛ You promised me! You're a liar. ❜

❛ You're okay. You've just been asleep for a few days. ❜

[crown-of-roses-thsc]

This AU now has a blog because…..I feel like the tumblr people would like it!

THE BIG STICKIN’ MASTERPOST

Heyo! I’m SnickerDoodlez, I’m a she, and you can call me…basically anything that correlates with “SnickerDoodlez” at all! Just a warning, despite the fact that you would expect a Christian such as I to be…I don’t know, strict? Uptight?- I act REALLY unhinged in my posts sometimes- just don’t let that scare ya off ;) this is a judgement free zone and despite my seemingly rabid exterior I don’t bite. I’m always up for asks, DMs, anything like that!

FAQ:

Q. What is Crown of Roses?

A. Crown of Roses is my Henry Stickmin AU- its story is told through comics that I post on different social media platforms! As for the synopsis…

The Aquatic Division of the Toppat Clan and most of its inhabitants have blown up in a sudden and unexplained "accident", leaving Ellie Rose- one of the few survivors- to be transferred to the airship division, home of Chief Terrence Suave himself. But Suave isn't all he seems to be, and Ellie has taken it upon herself to overthrow him- accompanied by her two new friends, Reginald and "Lefty". But Suave has eyes everywhere... and everyone has a secret to hide.

This prequel-fic comic is named an AU mostly for minor inconsistencies (The way Sven talks about the airship implies that he was part of a different division, whereas in this he's part of the airship, for example), but I hope you can enjoy it nonetheless! It is heavily inspired by a side game that never saw the light of day (though funnily enough I came up with the basic idea before hearing about this!)

Q. May I make fanart of your AU?

A. Fanart / fan content for this AU is always allowed! And you can of course ship whoever you want (within reason, which should go without saying :P), and if you draw it I’d love to see the fanart ;) even if it isn’t a canon ship! And as long as it’s sfw I’ll reblog any fanart I get! My only request is that you tag me in it ^v^

Q. How old are the characters? / It’s weird to ship Reginald and Ellie.

A. Some character ages are changed in this AU! Not to an insane degree- no child-to-adults or adult-to-minors….and most of the ages aren’t confirmed in-game anyways, so I guess it’s not definitely changing? But still, there have been some changes! For now, here’s what I’ll say for ages (they are subject to change, and are mostly to show the basic differences between character ages!)

Carol is 22. Ellie and Sven are 23. Reginald and Burt are 24. Lefty is 30. Terrence Suave is in his 40s.

And yes, Copperrose is a weird ship :) the weirdness of it was actually what inspired me to make an overly-angsty-crack AU….which eventually turned into a story that I’m proud to say seems to be beloved by quite a few people!

Q. Any disclaimers I should know for this blog / AU?

A. This blog DOES contain fictional gore, violence, suicide, alcoholism, references abuse, manipulation….etc. Viewer discretion advised! However, it does NOT contain swearing (only slightly coarse language) or sexual topics (at most there are references to an affair and a joke or two at Reginald’s expense regarding his nonexistent love life)

Q. Do you accept asks?

A. Yes! Send me asks about the story (I may give spoilers ;)), characters, headcanons, etc…) or if you send an ask aimed at any of the AU’s characters, I may respond with a drawing! In fact, PLEASE SEND ME ASKS. PLEASE. I HAVE NO LIFE. DO NOT WORRY ABOUT BEING CRINGE I SHIP COPPERROSE WHICH IS MEGA CRINGE WE DON’T JUDGE HERE.

Q. Where can I read this story?

A. See below!

Q. Will you feature my OC?

A. I have hosted contests in the past where the reward is to have an OC featured in either the background or as a minor character in the project! You’re always free to ask, but unless you win a contest offering it there are no guarantees! At the moment, the main people who have gotten featured characters are contest winners, friends, and my mega-supporters <3

WHERE CAN I READ THIS STORY?

YouTube Dub

WEBTOON

Ao3

Tumblr

CHARACTER INFO / REFS (WIP):

LIVING (as of Chapter 1):

Terrence Suave

Sven Svensson

Carol Cross

Reginald Copperbottom

Dr. Vinschpinsilstien

Burt Curtis

Calvin Carter / “Lefty” / John Doe / “Right Hand Man”

Ellie Suave-Rose

??? & ??? Randrolf

Bach

Minty

DEAD

Randy Radman

T.R.N.K.

Jessica Rose-Suave

Chloe Cross

Valentine Galeforce Copperbottom & Gold Copperbottom

Sir Wilford IV

[sapphires-and-silver-linings]

More | One-Shot

“I would never compliment you just to get something out of it.” “I’m not asking what you’d do, I’m asking what you want."

You and Leon have some time alone in a closet.

Pairing: DBD!Leon S. Kennedy/F!Reader

Tags: Fluff, Smut, Blowjob (Giving), Vaginal Fingering, Cunnilingus (Receiving), P in V Sex

Notes: Hey guys! This one-shot was originally part of a collection, but I've decided to reupload it as a standalone. This is my first ever (posted) one-shot and smut piece! Enjoy!

Masterlist Collection

--------------------

You wake up early that day, a plan forming in your head the moment you open your eyes.

You get dressed, something simple and comfortable, before you go about your morning routine.

After getting ready, you head towards the storage closet that holds all of the survivors’ extra clothes. 

You’re going to get a new outfit today. 

Hopefully something sexy, but easy to maneuver in. You aren’t sure if your little scheme would make much of a difference, but why not try?

You hear your name as you beeline towards your destination, the familiar voice pulling you from your thoughts.

When you turn, you find Leon standing beside you, clearly having to jog to catch up. “Hey, you look like a woman on a mission. Going somewhere?”

You laugh. “You could say that. I wanted to dig around in the storage closet. Hope to find something new to wear.” 

“You mind if I join you? I’ve got nothing better to do. Besides, I could use a change myself.” 

You’re a little surprised by the offer. You and Leon have started becoming friends over the last few months, but he usually keeps his distance unless you happen to be in the same space. You’re enthralled by it, however, as you’ve formed a massive crush on the young cop. 

“Sure! Maybe I could even pick it out for you,” you say, that last part more of a joke. 

“I can’t promise I’ll like it, but you can try,” he replies, chuckling lightly. 

You reach the closet, locking the two of you inside with the hook latch that was installed, put there to prevent anyone walking in on those changing in the small room. 

You ask Leon his sizes and make him turn around while you pick out clothes for him, informing him it has to be a surprise. 

You finish, telling him to turn back towards you, shoving the pile into his hands. He looks skeptically at the items before glancing at you with a raised brow.

“Well, go ahead. Try them on,” you encourage. 

“In front of you?” 

You roll your eyes good-naturedly, facing away from him as you reply, “I’m turning around, obviously.” 

He takes a few minutes but lets you know as soon as he’s done. 

You look over at him, taking in his appearance with a low whistle. It isn’t anything crazy, just an open flannel with the sleeves rolled up, hanging off a well-fitted t-shirt. There’s a pair of bootcut jeans that sit snugly on his bottom half.

“Looking good, Kennedy. I think this is a winner.” 

“I like it,” he responds, appraising himself in the full-length mirror on the back of the door. “Though the pants are a little… tighter than I’m used to.”

“C’mon, with a butt that cute, you can’t keep it all to yourself,” you tell him, giving him a mischievous grin as you get an eyeful. 

He scoffs. “Is that so?” 

“Mhm. Only rivals your face. In fact, you probably have the prettiest face in the realm.” 

You can see a blush spreading across his cheeks, but he hides it with a small smile. “Not half as pretty as you.” 

You quirk a brow at him. “Oh, so we’re lying now?”

“I’m not lying,” he replies, defensive. 

“So you’re not trying to butter me up for something?”

“No, I’m not. Are you usually this bad at taking a compliment?”

“Only when it’s from pretty boys like you.” 

He rolls his eyes at that, exasperated. “Just my luck, then.”

You laugh. “I’m sorry, I was just messing with you. I appreciate the compliment. On a more serious note, I guess I’m not used to being flattered like that. Especially by someone—oh, I don’t know—more on the conventionally attractive side of the spectrum?”

“Really? I don’t get why. You’re gorgeous.” 

“I’m not everyone’s cup of tea, maybe. But when I do get complimented by a guy, it’s usually because he wants something from me,” you explain, shrugging, before searching for your own outfit on the racks. 

“Like what?” 

You give a disbelieving laugh at his naivete. “Sex, Kennedy.”

“Oh… Well, I wasn’t trying to get into your pants or anything.” 

You turn back to face him, a dress folded over your arm. “So you’re telling me you don’t want anything from me?” 

“Of course not!” He seems appalled by your insinuation.

“Not even… a kiss?” 

“I would never compliment you just to get something out of it.” 

“I’m not asking what you’d do, I’m asking what you want.” 

“I don’t want anything from you! I swear!” 

“Hm. A shame. Turn around so I can change, please.”

Looking more than a little flustered, he does as you ask, though he can still see you in the mirror in front of him. He tries not to peek, but he finds it hard to avoid taking a quick glance at your backside, the soft curve of your ass making his fingers twitch. 

“Did you… want me to kiss you?” he prods, folding his arms across his chest and feeling suddenly diffident. 

“Well, I’d never deny you one,” you respond noncommittally, pulling the dress over your form. “You can turn around now.” 

He follows your command and you see his eyes rake over you appreciatively. The dress is flowy, the billowing sleeves cinched at your wrists and the skirt reaching just below your knee. 

What really catches his wandering gaze, though, is the tight bodice, which exposes an excessive amount of your cleavage. 

His face is turning hot as he forces himself to peel away his stare. “Wow. What’s the occasion?” 

You look at yourself in the mirror. “I thought maybe I could use this as a distraction for the killers in trials. Obviously, there are many that wouldn’t even care, but some of them still have… human urges… under all that monstrosity.” 

Leon laughs. “My concern would be distracting us survivors instead. Or worse, garnering too much attention from a killer.” 

“Hm,” you reply, swishing out the skirt. Regardless of its usefulness, you’re going to keep it. “I guess that would be a problem. Well, I’m going to change back.”  

Leon nods, turning around yet again. 

There’s a moment of silence between you and, against his better judgment, he says, “You know, I’ve thought about what it would be like.”

“To?” 

“Kiss you.” 

He meets your eye in the mirror as you spin on your heels, only in your underwear. He quickly looks away, ashamed that he was caught ogling you. 

Unabashed, you stride up to him, grabbing his arm to turn him towards you. “Is that so?” 

His breath is caught in his throat as he looks at you, now able to see your exposed front. You were in a bra and panties and he wanted nothing more than to touch you. 

“All the time,” he admits further, trailing up his gaze to your own. Your eyes are blazing, but not in anger like he worried. No, the look is determined. Challenging. 

Full of lust.

You get closer, trailing your hand up to rest on his cheek. He leans into the touch, entranced by how silky the skin of your palm is against his face.

“Well, would you like to make that a reality?” you ask, giving him an out. 

He would never take it, not when all he’s wanted since meeting you is dangling in front of him like this. He thought about the conversation you just had moments ago and felt a twinge of guilt. 

He’s a goddamn liar. He did want something from you.

No, not just something. Everything.

He doesn’t answer, instead surging forward and kissing you. 

It’s gentle, his lips soft against yours, but there’s a desperation and eagerness in it that catches you off guard.

He grabs your face in his hands, your own bracing against his chest as you open your mouth to him. He wastes no time in dancing his tongue against yours, a sigh trapped in your throat. 

After a while, you pull away and he looks down at you, confused. “Is something wrong?”

“No, of course not,” you reply, a little breathless. “I was just gonna ask if you wanted to take this further.” 

His eyes widen, shocked that he would be getting anything more than the taste of your lips. He drops his hands to his sides and glances at the door apprehensively. “What if someone wants in here?”

You giggle. “Well, it’s locked, so we have time to get dressed. Besides, people rarely come into this room. And no one knows to look for us here.”

He swallows thickly, turning back to face you, “I’ll be honest, I’m not exactly… experienced.” 

“Are you a virgin?” There’s no judgment in your tone, just curiosity.

He shakes his head. “No, I’m not, but it’s just been a while.”

“I’m shocked,” you say. “I figured someone like you would be getting tail left and right.” 

He lets out a soft puff of laughter. “Sure, there have been girls interested in me, but I’ve always been kinda particular about who I get intimate with. I've only had one girlfriend, back in high school. We broke up when she went to a college out of state and I decided to join the police academy. It took me a while to get over her, and I never really clicked with anyone else.”

“Are you insinuating we click, Kennedy? I feel special,” you tease, gently traveling a hand to his neck and caressing the hairs at the nape of it with your fingers.

His eyes are warm as he regards you. “I guess that’s exactly what I’m saying.” 

“If that’s the case,” you respond with an impish smile, backing away from him and leaping to perch on the dresser set against the far wall, “then there’s no reason to stop now.”

He follows you—because he knows now he always will, forever—and situates himself between your open legs, leaning down to kiss you again, even more fervently than before.

His hands lay still on your waist and you whine into his mouth before pulling away, “Touch me, Leon.”

He exhales a nervous breath as he slowly trails his palms up to press against your still-covered breasts. Feeling impatient, you reach behind you and unclasp your bra, revealing your naked chest to him. 

You let out a quiet, raspy moan as he touches you, looking at you with awe. He gently pinches your nipples to hear your noises again before replacing one hand with his mouth, sucking on the hardened peak. 

You pull his face up to yours and kiss him again, vigorously, before asking, “What all have you done before?”

He doesn’t stop moving his hands against your breasts as he replies, “Fingering. I’ve gotten a handjob a few times. Sex itself, obviously. That’s about it.”

There’s a gleam in your eyes, “So you’ve never been sucked off before?” 

He shakes his head, feeling embarrassed. 

You slip off the dresser and he worries he’s lost your interest due to his inexperience before you turn him to lean against the piece of furniture, kneeling on the concrete floor in front of him.

“What are you doing?” 

You look at him, trailing your hands up his clothed legs. “What do you think I’m doing, Leon?”

He shudders as you open both his belt and his jeans, pulling them down to his ankles before gliding your fingers across his already hardened length tucked behind the cloth of his underwear. 

You waste no time in freeing his cock from the confines of his boxer briefs, sliding them down to rest atop his crumpled jeans.

It jumps to attention in front of you, the length and girth of it practically perfect in every way, just like the rest of him. His pubes—dark blonde like the hair that falls over his eyes as he stares down at you in anticipation—are trimmed and well-groomed, which you take a second to appreciate.

You grab his member in your hand and give him one long, languid stroke, looking directly at him. He gasps, those beautiful pink lips parting into a lovely “O” as he grips the edge of the dresser. 

You continue to pump him in your hand for a few moments, using the pre-cum that beaded at the tip to slicken his shaft. 

You lean forward, lips ghosting along the head of his cock. “You ready for this, Kennedy?” 

He nods quickly, practically heaving from the suspense and teasing you’ve subjected him to. 

You smile and open your mouth, taking him as far as you could down your throat in one swift motion. 

He moans, the sound beautiful but far too loud in the small space.

You pull back for a moment. “If you’re so worried about getting caught, Leon, you should really be more quiet.” 

He looks sheepish, but the expression is quickly replaced with one of ecstasy as you take him back into your mouth, sucking and licking as you slide up and down his length. 

You fall into a nice rhythm, Leon’s knuckles turning white as he grips the wood of the dresser hard, trying to keep himself from bucking up into you or grabbing you by the hair and pushing you down further. What a gentleman.

After a few minutes, he does card a hand through your hair, gently. But instead of pushing you forward, he pulls you back. You release his member from your mouth and look up at him expectantly.

“I-I’m getting close,” he says, panting. 

“You don’t want to finish in my mouth?” 

He groans, clearly affected by your words, but shakes his head.

You stand up, palming his cock as you lean into him. “Use your words, Kennedy.”

He scoffs, but is clearly too invested to fight against your teasing, pulling you into a heated kiss before replying, “I want to feel you.” 

“Good boy,” you respond, peeling your panties off of you before sitting back on the dresser and spreading your legs. “But you could at least warm me up first.” 

His breath hitches as he looks at your cunt, now completely bare before him, bringing his hand between the two of you to slide a finger through your folds.

You whine as he teases you like that for a moment, a jolt of pleasure shooting through you as he rubs against your clit in a slow, careful circle. 

He dives his finger into you, curving it at a delicious angle as he pumps it in and out. He adds another finger, the slight stretch only barely scratching the itch you so desperately needed. Regardless, you can feel yourself reaching your peak and you had no plan of denying yourself that. 

To your dismay, he pulls those lovely, lithe fingers completely from your now-drenched core. You’re about to complain until you see the way he looks at the mess on his fingers, his expression curious as he brings them to his lips. He sucks them clean as you watch him, eyes lidded. 

“I want to taste more of you,” he whispers, waiting for your approval. 

“Please do.”

That’s all he needs as he falls to his knees in front of you, pulling your legs to rest over his shoulders. He kisses up the inside of your thigh as he reaches your aching center, desperate for his touch. 

Your eyes meet and he swipes his tongue through your folds experimentally. Your mouth falls open as you look down at him, the expression enough encouragement for him to keep going. 

He tongue-fucks you for a while as he traces a finger over your clit, the motions getting you near the edge, but not quite enough to push you over.

“More, Leon. Please,” you beg in a hushed voice. 

He switches up his movements, opting to return to using his fingers to massage inside of you as he sucks your clit between his lips.

You start rocking your hips forward against him, desperate for release, not realizing your moans were getting louder with every passing second. 

He pulls back and you cry out in frustration, his free hand pressing firmly against your hip to stop you from squirming, his tone snarky as he says, “Who needs to be quiet now?” 

You dig your fingers into his hair and tug his face harshly towards your dripping sex, a gasp escaping him at the rough action, warning, “Watch it, Kennedy.”

You feel him smirk against you, but he doesn’t push his luck, falling back into his previous ministrations. You keep your hand in his hair, your other one formed into a fist and pressed into your mouth, biting down on the flesh there to keep yourself from getting any louder.

Finally, you reach your climax, moaning against the skin of your knuckle as you offer a muffled, “I’m cumming, Leon!” 

A wave of euphoria washes over you, your back arching as you grind yourself against his face to ride out the high. 

He pulls back, fingers still moving inside of you for a few more moments until your legs stop shaking against his shoulders. He looks smug as he stands and wipes your juices from his face, your legs dropping to dangle in front of the dresser once more.

“That was really good,” you tell him, grinning as he pulls off the flannel and t-shirt, ogling the lean muscles of his body that are now fully exposed to you. “Hard to believe you never did that before.” 

“Well, I had to make up for the way your mouth worked me over earlier,” he replies, pressing his lips against your neck, softly nibbling on the skin there. 

“Ah, equivalent exchange. How civil of you.”

He pulls back, his hand now laying against your cheek, his thumb tracing your lower lip as he smiles down at you. “I’m a public servant after all, ma’am.”

You laugh and he chuckles lightly before pulling you into a deep kiss, hushing you. He wraps his arms around you and draws you closer to him. You do the same, your bare chests pushed against each other as you both squeeze tightly, your bodies and lips molding together perfectly. 

You pull from the kiss and he chases your mouth, tugging your bottom lip with his teeth before releasing it. 

“You still want more?” you ask lowly, running a finger along his spine.

You feel him shiver under your touch as he responds, “Yes. I need it. I need you.” 

You kiss him again before letting him go, leaning back on the dresser, supporting yourself on your bent arms. He sighs wantonly as he runs his hands down your sides to your legs, pulling them over his shoulders once more.

He grabs his cock with a single hand, the fingers of his other digging into one of your thighs to keep them apart. He slides the head through your folds before pressing against your entrance, not yet moving forward.

“You ready, sweetheart?” he questions, those beautiful cerulean eyes trained on yours, waiting for your signal.

You nod, desperate for this. “Please just fuck me, Leon.”

He hisses as he pushes slowly into you. You let out a whimper at the stretch, burning so good it makes you close your eyes, your head falling back against the wall.

“Fuck, this feels amazing,” he laments, pulling his hips back before snapping them forward again.

You start with soft gasps, but he picks up the pace, the sound of his moans triggering your own to spill from your mouth.

He seems to realize he lost himself for a moment, gripping the back of your neck and pulling you forward to kiss you so passionately, it makes your head spin, your legs moving to hook around his waist.

“Almost there, sweetheart,” he tells you, but you already knew he was close by the way he shudders against you. 

“Cum for me, Leon. I want you to cum inside of me,” you reply breathlessly, dragging your nails down his back, hard enough to leave marks.

He tangles the hand at the back of your neck into your hair, making you look at him, his eyes dark.

His other hand braces against your lower back as his thrusts become sloppy, pushing you farther onto him—his cock as deep as it can possibly go—as he cums with a groan. 

You kiss him as you cry out at the feeling, the two of you swallowing each other’s bliss. 

He stills and breaks the kiss, panting as he looks down at you. He seems to come back to himself and searches your face for any sign of discomfort. “Are you okay?” 

Heavy breaths beginning to calm, you laugh, pressing your lips to the corner of his mouth. “Just peachy.” 

He smiles lazily, pulling you back into a kiss. There’s less desperation in it, the movement of his lips slow and soft, but you can feel the sense of want that radiates from him. It’s so sweet and romantic, it almost brings tears to your eyes. 

Eventually—begrudgingly—he releases you from the kiss.

He’s about to pull out of you, but you stop him, not wanting to make a mess. “Could you grab that scarf over there?”

He looks over at the accessory, hanging close to the two of you from the left-hand rack, before grabbing it. 

You thank him and you both hiss as he gently pulls out of you. He quickly brings the scarf between your legs, catching the cum that leaked from your now sore sex. He wipes you clean, for which you’re grateful, and then tosses the scarf to the floor, the two of you changing back into the clothes you walked into the closet with in the first place. 

He gathers up his new outfit—the one he just fucked you in, to his disbelief—in his arms, watching you as you grab the dress you tried on and the scarf from the ground.

He looks at you questioningly and you say, “Would be pretty rude to leave it in here for someone to find, don’t you think?”

“Fair.” 

“Besides, I could always use another scarf. It’s so damn chilly here.”

“You’re actually going to wear it?”

“I mean, after I wash it, yeah.” 

He flushes a bit at that, realizing that every time he would see you in the accessory, he’d be reminded of what transpired between you. 

He wonders with a sudden fear if this was all you wanted to do with him. Would this be the only occasion he would get to share this intimacy with you?

You head towards the door to unlock it when he grabs your wrist. “Hey, was this just a one-time thing?”

“Did you want it to be?” 

He’s shocked by the question. Of course he doesn’t. He’s wanted you for months, and if you asked him to marry you tomorrow, he would in a heartbeat, no matter how stupid that would be. 

He doesn’t understand this feeling, how visceral it is. He loved his ex, he knows he did, but whatever exists between you and him is denser than a black hole and burns brighter than any supernova.

“No, I want…” How could he even word it? Could he ever explain this desire? This endless yearning that only seemed to grow in intensity now that he had the chance to be with you?

He can imagine what a life with you looked like, even despite the grim reality of the world you both were trapped in. Daydreamed about it often when he was alone in his room at night. 

He already did his best to protect you in trials, and you often healed him as thanks for taking a hit for you. But if you were his, he could see you fussing over him as you worked on whatever injury he would sustain, and he’d steal a kiss as you admonish him for not being more careful. 

He can see himself waking up to you in his rickety old bed, those lovely eyes of yours half-lidded as you look up at him. He can envision the way they’d crinkle at the edges as he tickles you, making you laugh that wonderful, musical little giggle he can’t seem to get enough of. 

All of it was laid out so plainly before him, but how could he manage to make you see it too? You’d probably think he was crazy if he even tried. 

“More?” you offer, smiling at him in a way that makes his stomach flip.

Maybe you understood after all.

“Yeah, if that’s okay with you.” 

You walk up to him, eyes bright, and pull him into one last, searing kiss.

It tastes like a promise. 

“I think I’d like that, Leon.”

And with that, you were out the door.

--------------------

Masterlist Collection

[noctisvixen]

The Earth

//Secret Life Spoilers\\

Warnings: Minor character death

Summary:

The Watchers always favored Scar; it was why they made him a Witness to begin with. To toy with him in a way that they couldn’t with the other players. To pick and choose between his locked away memories and give them to him in pieces in each new life. He wasn’t a winner or a Watcher, so he only received fragments that he would have to piece together. Then he would forget, and the cycle repeats itself with each new game.

But now he’s won Secret Life.

“Pearl, I’m coming for you!” Scar yelled as he ran to the edge of the small ravine. He hadn’t heard the fading thunder or saw the flash of lightning; his crimson gaze was too focused on killing his final target.  “I’m coming for you!” He yelled again when she didn’t respond. He swapped out his bow for his diamond sword, the once brilliant blue now stained red.

He leapt down into the ravine, swinging his head around as he searched for the brunette. “Where'd you go?!” He called, the grip on his sword tightening. Had she ran? After everything that had happened?! No, even with the faded memories of former lives, Scar knew Pearl. She wouldn’t have run. She was here and he was going to kill her, finally cure the itch in his hands by covering them in the final survivor’s blood. “Where'd you go?!” He called again, this time frustration dripping into his tone.

He wanted to end this now. He wanted his sword tearing into her. He wanted to see one more body bleeding out from his hand, to finally be the villain They wanted him to-

“She’s dead,” A voice- an all so familiar voice- echoed behind him. He spun around, sword at the ready as bloodied sand and awful screams before abrupt silence flooded his senses. He was ready to strike, to fulfill that want for more death. But the want left him, as if an ocean’s tide swept over him and left him on the shore, alive.

Grian smiled softly at him, as if sensing the tension leaving the other man. The avian looked different as a ghost, his wings white as a canvas and waiting to be painted to something new again. His brown eyes were a deep shaded purple, somehow lacking and still holding warmth at the same time. He wasn’t just a ghost, Scar remembered. He was one of Them. But good. Loving and kind, in his own ways.

“Scar...” He breathed, a gentle look of joy and pride dancing in his eyes. “You won.”

Scar stared at him, dumbfounded. It took him a moment to even register the words that left Grian’s mouth. “Oh.” He breathed before looking around. This wasn’t what he was expecting. Wasn’t there supposed to be some kind of feeling of victory? Of grief?

Why did Scar feel nothing?

“Really?” He asked, looking back at the Watcher in front of him. Grian said nothing, but his smile faded, especially when the sword in Scar’s hand fell from his grasp. He brought his hand to his forehead, his fingers brushing against his hair. “Oh my God.” He said. Then he cracked a smile, the only thing seeming appropriate even with the empty feeling in his chest. “How did that happen?” He moved his hand from his head to motion it to Grian. He tried to ignore how it was trembling. How Grian’s gaze flicked to it and then back to him, frowning and eyes showing concern. He tried to ignore it.

“How’d the guy with no friends win?” He asked, his smile broadening and a little snicker leaving his lips. “How did-” His laughter interrupted him. “H-how did the guy w-with no fri-friends win?” He laughed more, letting it echo off the walls. It really was ridiculous- How did he win with the odds so stacked against him? The whole server hated him, for his tasks and who he was. They wanted him dead because of it.

His eyes burned. His laughter stuttered, changing into something broken and rough. His breathing hitched, turning uneven and jagged. Something like a sob broke out from his mouth and his cheeks grew damp, tears flowing along them and falling to the ground. He gripped at himself in a makeshift hug, as if he could pull this horrible feeling out of him and feel victory or guilt. Anything but this.

But, void, he wasn’t feeling emptiness. He was feeling hate. His friends’ hate towards him. His hate towards himself and his actions. He had won, but at what cost? He killed Pearl, the only teammate he was truly able to get out of this mess. She had given the one thing he had wanted the whole game, and he killed her! She’ll never want to see him again, not after a betrayal like this.

His sobs wracked his body, his knees almost ready to give out until a set of arms wrapped around him and a small body pressed against his. Instinctively, his arms shifted and latched onto the person, just as he felt wings wrap around him and shield him from the world.

“It's okay.” Grian whispered by his ear, letting Scar hunch into him and sob. The wings around him pulled tighter while the avian’s arms held him as if he was fragile and precious. “We don’t hate you. We don’t blame you.” His voice remained soft, but firm.

“Y-you should.” Scar argued weakly. He didn’t deserve to be forgiven.

“We don’t.” Grian repeated, firmer this time. “These games make us do things that are hard to forgive, Scar. But that doesn’t mean they can’t be forgiven.” As he spoke, he pulled away and met Scar’s gaze. His eyes revealed understanding at a level that Scar couldn’t comprehend. But deep down he knew that he would soon.

“I’m tired.” Scar settles on saying instead of what he should be asking. It isn’t a lie though. He was tired. He’s been tired for a long time during this game. This is just the first time since this game started that he felt safe enough to let the exhaustion flood his body. The crying probably didn’t help either, even if it left him feeling a bit lighter than before.

Grian gave him an understanding smile. “That's okay.” The avian said, bringing a hand to Scar’s cheek. The newest winner leaned into his hand, closing his eyes and just enjoying the warmth that Grian’s skin produced. He hadn’t even noticed it before and when he opened his eyes to ask, Grian was no longer a ghost or Watcher. He was standing in front of him, his wings the wonderful design of Scarlet Macaws, the only kind of wings he ever saw on him in Hermitcraft. He saw gentle brown eyes and an even gentler smile. “Let’s go home then.” His voice was full of warmth and Scar couldn’t help himself.

A genuine smile graced his lips and he brought a hand up to hold Grian’s. “Let’s go home.” He whispered. The world around them was fading to white as the wind picked up around them, but Scar couldn’t find himself to care. Instead, he closed his eyes and let Grian pull him into another embrace.

He had won Secret Life, but his real victory was this. Finally being able to let his guard down. Finally getting to go home and rest.

And, after everything, finally being held in the arms of someone who loves him.

[kiwibongos]

i dont really infodump in general at all but im doing it cus i need some ideas off my chest. do you freak with angst? perhaps an unhappy ending?

// sdr2 chapter 5+ending spoilers ig. kuzuhina au baybee

ok im, pretty positive that if there's two people left then neither of them can get out together and just split the prize bc that'd be pretty bullshit (idek if they ever cleared it up, imo tho one man standing would be the most logical)

so what if nagito DID bomb the island, taking everyone out?

fyi ive written this nearly entirely so im sparing u with a little summary(this is not a summary)

so bombs are spread all around the islands forreal this time. after nagito's video, a chain of them went off right as they were running out of the plushie factory, barely on time. everything started crumbling around them, and all the others were downed one by one, either caught in the explosions or crushed underneath falling structures

but somehow haj and fuyu survived, the others killed right in front of their own eyes. but they ran away, retreating to the warehouse, to which they find nagitos body. and the realization hits– it’s just them now, they’re the only ones left, and neither of them know what to do

im sure u can imagine hajime was fucking RAGING at that point just breaking down and stressing out

they didnt know what to do, they couldnt do anything, but fuyuhiko was here, so the first thing they did was to get off the island since the fire was spreading. from there, they wander around, hoping maybe then something would happen, but there wasn't any sight of monokuma or monomi. all they could do was look onto the destroyed islands, before they inevitably wait in a safe spot at the military base, officially at a dead end

they just kinda sit there for a while, not knowing what to do. but they cant wait here forever, and fuyuhiko knows what he has to do

eventually, he hands hajime a pistol(acquired from the truck of firearms outside), and asks him to kill him so it could finally be over

obviously hajime refuses at first, but fuyuhiko begs him, because he isn’t a good person and he doesn’t have much else to live for, while hajime has singlehandedly saved everyones asses, he deserved to escape more than anyone else here. by now, hajime was crying, but they’ve been at this dead end for so long, he knew he had to do it or else they’d never be getting off this island. so hajime just holds em close and says his final goodbyes (maybe a kiss teehee) before making it quick for him

pulling that trigger hurts him more than anything, ANYWAY BOOM hajime is the winner, simulation ends

also postgame babey; when things end here, hajime would wake up from the simulation, and since he never got to choose his own future alongside everyone else, he wakes up as izuru kamukura (he's also unable to open the pods since he won as the last survivor standing on top, and they didn't cheat the game to make it possible, now that it had officially ended.) also he's not entirely empty i think, izuru and hajime still would have "merged" afterwards, so it'd moreso just be hajime somewhere in there half of the time just mourning but its deeply suppressed, whatever way izurus dumb fucky brain works, he chills in the streets fr

[airbendertendou]

not sure if you write for him but if so can I request 67 for niragi (aib)? any theme is ok!

first meeting number 67 + niragi

"SO YOU KEEP ME SHARP AND TEST MY WORTH IN BLOOD."

it wasn't supposed to go this way. a clubs game was supposed to be easy ; you were all supposed to live. but, here you were, friendless and alone. you let out a choked sob and keep running, knowing you'd die next if you stopped.

with a thud, you fall to the floor. on top of you is a pierced guy, eyes wide and calculating. he pants, "we need to move."

now teamless, you listen to the stranger. you grab his wrist, leading him right instead of left. "bad down that way."

you pant as you press your back to the wall behind you, eyeing the dark hallways. your mental map was failing you, unable to tell you where was safe and where you'd find danger. you look to the man, "any ideas?"

he holds out the rifle he'd been carrying, "go out guns blazing?"

you laugh quietly, grin pointed to the floor. "we'll keep that as a back-up, okay?"

niragi slowly lowers his weapon. truly, he thought it'd be easier to get rid of you - be the only survivor and the only winner. now, though - he wanted to hear you laugh more. wanted to see the way your smile truly looked, with proper lighting.

he gulps before nodding, "you have any ideas, then?"

"well," you let out a huff. pointing up to the ceiling, you shrug. "we haven't tried that way yet."

——♥︎—— i never know how to write niragi lmao so i hope this was alright <3

request your own here ♡ read more

[goodmorgan]

A Fair Sight

Summary: Arthur Morgan aims to put his skills to good use.

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x GN!Reader

Word count: 1k

Tags: One shot. AU Modern setting. Fluff, fluff and more fluff.

A/N: I wrote this in September and I never posted it! I just found it!

✿✿✿✿

You can tell that this isn't Arthur Morgan's first rodeo. When it comes to doing some shooting, the man is a born prodigy. He might just be the best damn sharpshooter in the county, hell, even the whole state.

He oozes confidence in his every move as he expertly sets the riffle against his rough shoulder, preparing his aim. He's proud enough to show his conviction in the skill but not cocky enough to flaunt it.

The night's summer soft breeze dances with his hair, but it's not strong enough to rattle him. He's utterly devoted to fulfilling your request, getting ready to put his talent to good use for once.

When he's ready, all his ducks in a row, he slowly exhales and the shots come faster than you can blink.

Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang.

A slight pause.

Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang.

He gives a light chuckle as he lowers the rifle. The scene before him can only be described as a massacre.

There are no survivors. All the yellow mechanical ducks at the shooting gallery are down. A victory tune plays over the speakers and some yellow and red lights flash to its beat. A sign up front lights up: "WINNER".

He turns around to give you a smirk and you go in for a short kiss on the lips. "That's my hero!"

He eagerly kisses you back in thanks for your praise. Shooting isn't the only thing he's good at.

"So, which one do you want?" You both look at the selection of prizes the gallery has displayed all around, most of them plushies. Tigers, bears, puppies, dolls. A very strange-looking giraffe. Some attempted bunnies. A horse painted as a zebra.

"That one!" You point to the big brown teddy bear sitting on the highest shelf to the left.

"Ok, gimme that one then." Arthur gestures to the bored teenage attendant who hands it over to him. "Here you go, darlin'."

When you grab it you're surprised by how big it is, needing both arms to hold it steady, much like you need with Arthur.

"You know bears are attracted to honey?"

"Is that so?"

"Must be why he likes you." Arthur's corniness always makes you smile.

"He kinda looks like you."

"Oh, you think he's ugly? Want me to get ya another one?"

You never care for his self-deprecating humor. "Oh, don't be silly!" You hug the bear tightly. "I love him! Thank you!"

"Anything for you, sweetheart."

He starts to lean in for another kiss and you get ready to receive it. But you're interrupted by the glimpse of something moving below you.

A little girl is now tugging at Arthur's sleeve. "Hey, mister. You think you can get me one too?"

He instinctively crouches down to match her height. "Sure I can. What's your name?"

"Emily." She sways in her pink dress and smiles broadly with anticipation.

"That's a pretty name! Ok, Emily. Let me see what I can do." You audibly denote your delight as he meets your eyes. "I'll be right back."

Back at the front of the gallery, he pays the attendant for another round and assumes the shooting position again. It's over before it's even begun. The ducks are down and the lights twinkle again. "WINNER". You and Emily give a big cheer at the outcome.

Arthur gestures to the attendant for another brown teddy bear, a smaller one that Emily can carry. He kneels again and hands it to her with a beaming smile. "Here you go, Emily."

"Thank you so much! I love him!" She surprises Arthur with a sweet hug, which he gladly accepts. Her little arms barely reach around Arthur's shoulders. She breaks it up to make another request. "Can I get a kiss too?"

You immediately see his cheeks turn a rosy color before he looks up at you. "Oh, I don't know, Emily. I gotta ask my friend here first."

"Don't be ridiculous!" you snicker.

Arthur plants a gentle kiss on Emily's cheek, which makes her laugh wholeheartedly. She lets out a "Thanks, mister!" before she runs off to show her mother her new teddy bear.

"That was adorable!"

Arthur rises from his knees to meet your gaze. "Kinda interrupted us kissing. But I'll let it slide."

"Well, I won't!" You grab both of Arthur's shoulders with your hands and squish the teddy bear between you as you reach for his lips. You linger on the kiss for a moment before the large size of the plushy forces you apart and you have to hold it again.

"You should've picked the zebra," he complains.

"I don't pick them ugly," you retort.

"Neither do I."

He leans in for another kiss before he's interrupted once again.

"Hey, you think you can help me out here?"

His patience has run out. "You're outta your damn mind, Marston!"

You watch as John stands a few feet from you, the rifle of the shooting gallery in his hands. You see he only shot a few of the ducks, not enough to win a prize.

Arthur suddenly grabs your hand and leads you away from the gallery, but you look back in time to see Abigail raise her arms in disappointment. "Is there anything you can do right?"

John inspects the rifle closely. "Arthur must have broken this thing!"

It's not long before you leave the fair with the sweetest bear wrapped around your arm. And a plushy teddy bear to boot.

✿✿✿✿

A/N: I'm not sure if mechanical ducks are still a thing. Sorry if they aren't!

[darklinaforever]

To be neutral in the Black and Green conflict :

When I see people say that Rhaenyra was intentionally written by the author to be unfit to rule and a bad ruler in general, I want to tear my eyes out. Let's voluntarily forget that she was mentally impacted by everything she got in the face in a short time. Usurpation, the death of his father, his daughter, his son, the war, the coffers emptied by the Greens, and I'm sure what comes next. Not to mention the likely (no actually it's even sure) anti-Rhaenyra propaganda led by the Maesters, trying to paint her as worse than she really was.

Also, this bullshit that by reigning and dying like she did, Rhaenyra CREATED precedent and prejudice against female rulers/queen reigning, which made it much harder for women to become full monarchs. As ? Wtf? What is this bullshit? There has literally ALWAYS been precedent and prejudice against women in Westeros in general, even more so in the idea that a woman can even rule. Shit, the fucking premise of this story is that Rhaenyra was usurped on the basis of her gender. They literally tried to steal the throne from her when she had done NOTHING wrong. Rhaenyra didn't create anything against her sex as a monarch at all, it was already there. And if we had left her alone instead of ruining her life, Rhaenyra would surely have made a decent queen. Not the best, but definitely not the worst either. What happened was literally a woman was declared heiress, the misogynists said no, spent most of her life rotting her, and when she later turns out to be unable to make a great/good sovereign in the midst of war against part of her own family, under pressure, bereaved and mentally impacted by the whole affair, it cries: "You see! We were right! She was destined to hold the role of sovereign badly!" When it's literally those people who rotted it until it was broken and messed up.

Let's not even talk about adding to the debate that the leader's gender mattered enough at the time that there were obviously protests against a woman. So you're actually trying to justify the misogyny of the time?

Then, while holding aside the discourse of neutrality, while sorry, Rhaenyra should have done what exactly? Let his brother steal what was rightfully his?

Spare me too your stupid speeches of course: All this (this war) was useless, under the pretext that there is no "real winner" in the end, only survivors. That betting on a particular team is ridiculous because they all do horrible things. That war is bad. That the real enemy in this story is war. That the point is that the nobility is eaten alive, the throne cuts you to pieces, etc.

But lol, do you think that at the end of his saga George's world will become a democracy? Wake up, you're literally in a feudal world you moron. Not to mention this stupid option that the author's stories are anti-war… Lol, I'm not even going to argue about that, it's so stupid. Reassure me, you know that just wars exist? It's stupid to say "war is bad" in any kind of context, because it's not.

Yes, the dance has impacted everyone. The Kingdom, the Greens, the Blacks, etc. But why ? Eh ? WHO started this whole mess? And why ? Well the answer is simple: THE GREENS! QUITE SIMPLY !

I love this talk of neutrality, because it basically serves to hide which team you really support.

The Greens have sworn loyalty to the rightful heir, namely Rhaenyra. Then, on the basis of her gender, they engineered a power grab and theft of the throne, committing treason and unleashing a war that set the kingdom on fire. There's no "both sides doing bad things that hold up" in there.

Also no need to use the argument, "but Rhaenyra had illegitimate children". Already because if it would have been a guy, no one would have cared. But in addition, in the first version of the dance, the children of Rhaenyra had to be legitimate, and guess what? The war would still have happened! Not to mention that the plot to depose Rhaenyra began long before she had any children, rendering that argument null.

Never mind that Rhaenyra didn't turn out to be a good queen! She was the rightful heiress and was usurped solely on the basis of her gender at the time, and the conspiracy began as soon as Aegon II was born. Rhaenyra had done absolutely nothing wrong to deserve having her birthright stolen.

And even when she doesn't turn out to be a good queen later on, it's forgotten how much she got in the face and how it impacted her mentally. Rhaenyra is literally a human being who has been kicked around for years because of being a female heiress.

The case is simple. The Greens have attacked the FIRST! Without valid reasons! And the Targaryens simply fought back, fighting for their right and their heritage. Did they commit war crimes? Yes. Guess what, always less worse than the Greens, waging war much more humanely than them. (Also, it's literally almost impossible not to commit a crime in times of war, it's even almost inevitable)

Yes, the war has diminished Targaryen prestige and power with the loss of the Dragons. But why ? Once again, it was not them who started the war. IT'S THE GREENS! THEN STOP WITH YOUR FALSE NEUTRALITY! THERE IS NO NEUTRALITY IN THIS MATTER! IF YOU DO THIS, YOU ARE LITERALLY SUPPORTING/ACCEPTING MYSOGINIA AS A VALID POINT TO STARTING A WAR!

The story of the dance is not about the ravages of war, or how wrong and useless it is. It's wrong. Yes, the war will have been horrible, but the only main point of this story is misogyny. It's the fact that a woman has been usurped simply because of her sex. That's even the fucking reason there was a war! Because a woman has been named heiress! Claiming the contract is completely stupid and hypocritical.

Not to mention the fact is that admittedly both sides lose quotes in the end. Except that the Targaryen line continues all the same BY RHAENYRA and that the Greens, them, end up at one time when another by all dying out. Even though Aegon III and Viserys II are broken, they continued their legacy, while the Greens, who once again started all this shit, eventually all die. This is what is called, in fiction, a karmic punishment. What ? Do you think it's a coincidence that the author killed all the Greens at the end? Doesn't that mean anything?

Really, I'm tired of seeing there's so much bullshit about being "neutral" (knowing that usually it's an excuse to side with the Greens and sure spit Rhaenyra as I l 've demonstrated) in this case because war = bad?

It's completely stupid.

[browneyesandhair]

Non-Exhaustive List of Soulmate Fics: Tomione

Okay, I'm bored so I'm compiling my favorite soulmate fics. Here's the Tomione edition:

A Time of Zombies by crochetaway

Summary:

Grindelwald’s death set off a massive curse across Britain. Every recently dead wizard has become decidedly undead. The world collapses and only a handful of survivors remain. Tom Riddle, Grindelwald’s lieutenant is one of them. As is Hermione Granger, Dumbledore ’s lieutenant. When they meet, sparks fly. Almost literally.

The Itch by seollem

Summary:

Tom looked intrigued. “Soul Glass? I’ve never heard of it.” “Oh, yes, it’s a very rare material, indeed! If you look carefully, you can see the other half of your soul on the other side. Perhaps that of a lucky lady?” Mr. Burke winked conspiratorially. “How fascinating.” A slow, predatory smile overtook the handsome features of Tom’s face, something flashing in his eyes as they locked on the shadow beside his reflection. “A piece of my soul, you say?” - Russian Translation by LauraLove: https://ficbook.net/readfic/13107041/33647376

The Fall by nimbus2003

Summary:

Tom Riddle never became Lord Voldemort. Instead, he quietly accumulated power and became the youngest Minister ever elected. When she discovers that Tom is her soulmate, Hermione allows herself to be Bound to him as part of a Hogwarts tradition. With time, Hermione discovers that her Tom is not what he seems - and learns the meaning of power. (Optional Marriage Law, Soulmates, Dark Tom, Eventual Dark Hermione)

Our Magic Knows No Bounds by PinkGlitterMasturbation

Summary:

Narcissa Malfoy is done with crazy, and she is determined to fix the mess her life has become. She has brains, a plan, and more than one dark spell to help her. But before she can put her plan into motion, she discovers a shocking secret about Hermione Granger, one that the girl doesn't even realize about herself. Before Hermione knows it, Narcissa has cursed them both, sending them back in time to deal with the Dark Lord in the form of the child Tom Riddle. Of course, Tom is no ordinary child, and time doesn't take kindly to being rewritten, so this will be a bumpy ride full of awesome, magical women, pragmatic decisions, and, rest assured, dear readers, plenty of sex eventually! *Winner for Best Story in the Rare Pair Category in the Beyond the Book Fanfiction Nook Summer 2018 Award!*

Forever Means Forever by cocoartist

Summary:

If she ever saw Unspeakable Number 37 again she would kill him with her bare hands: Hermione's research into the Veil has an unexpected side-effect. COMPLETE.

What Do You Believe? by mrsren

Summary:

In the fall of her seventh year, the mark appears on her inner thigh, but Hermione's not one to believe in something as frivolous as soulmates. While she doesn't look for her soulmate, she never expects for him to find her.

Claiming His Witch by articcat621

Summary:

Fate brought the two of them together.

[ruinmemes]

NATURAL BORN LOSERS / SENTENCE STARTERS 

track 01. poacher's pride.

❝  let it bleed.  ❞

❝  i know one day hell will catch up to me.  ❞

❝ when it's done there wont be anything left.  ❞

❝  i did not cry.  ❞

track 02. mean.

❝  you are the way you always were.  ❞

❝ you like your cruel games.  ❞

❝  i like it when it hurts like hell.  ❞

❝  there's nothing you can do to me i wouldn't do to myself.  ❞

❝  i'll be bound to you in leather and chains  ❞

track 03. white trashing.

❝ show no remorse.  ❞

❝  all that glitters is not gold.  ❞

❝ carved your name into my leg.  ❞

❝  inherited your dad's crazy eyes.  ❞

❝ yeah, this place gets old.  ❞

❝  it's really hard.  ❞

track 04. swan.

❝ you can't forgive me.  ❞

❝ if i had the gun i'd choose to shoot again.  ❞

❝ he taught me to be a good shot.  ❞

❝  you love the sound of sorry.  ❞

❝ you still pretend you don't know.  ❞

track 05. in the land.

❝ hell has a name.  ❞

❝ got the tape recorder in.  ❞

❝ spread apart her legs and pull her soul out of the body that it's in.  ❞

❝  a starving animal will always feed.  ❞

❝ never grow old.  ❞

❝ give it up for the milk carton angel.  ❞

❝ she'll never grow old.  ❞

track 06. alligator blood.

❝ i'm a sucker for the love of the flesh.  ❞

❝ it still gets to me.  ❞

❝ he held my head and made me watch.  ❞

❝  grow up weak or grow up tough.  ❞

❝ he'd always hold my head under the water a little too long.  ❞

❝ be all guts, no glory.  ❞

❝ all survivor, no guilt.  ❞

❝ he calls me his crocodile tears.  ❞

track 07. executioner.

❝ baby, you have to pay in this way or another.  ❞

❝ for as long as we've known each other you've been playing this game with death...  ❞

❝  unprepared to meet your god.  ❞

❝  they think that you emit the light, but you only take it in.  ❞

❝ you'll scream out for your father.  ❞

❝ you'll scream out for your father and in darkness, i pray you will never find him again.  ❞

track 08. american tradition.

❝ he wants to be just like his father.  ❞

❝ if i bleed to death, it doesn't matter.  ❞

❝  my baby, he's still the winner.  ❞

❝  things don't go like they should.  ❞

❝ it's no good.  ❞

track 09. angels of porn ii.

❝ it's harder to be good in here.  ❞

❝ i try to stir my conscience, it was never really there.  ❞

❝  everything is fine in heaven.  ❞

❝  soak all my clothes in holy water.  ❞

track 10. a marvellous persona.

❝ i think i'm dying.  ❞

❝ you tried, ____, we all did.  ❞

❝  shut up! shut up, will ya? don't quit...  ❞

❝  we have to go now.  ❞

track 11. you're so cool.

❝ you're so cool, you're so cool.  ❞

❝ wild eyes, they're black like magic eight balls.  ❞

❝  when i'm good i'm very good, but when i'm bad i'm better.  ❞

❝  i'm yours forever.  ❞

❝  they wanna break your heart.  ❞

❝ you carry all that suffering.  ❞

❝  i can see the future and there's no death.  ❞

❝ you and i, we're angels.  ❞

[ailani-reillata]

“The Witch” is the longest chapter in The Acolyte, and it’s also one of my favorites. This chapter gives us a deeper insight into Wolffe’s mind and motivations.

Though his image is distorted through Ailani’s perspective and understanding, we can still learn a lot. If we take what we know about Wolffe’s character (especially in Rebels) and what we know about Ailani and her internal conflict, we can strip away her commentary and get a better look at Wolffe and his personality. 

I want to talk specifically about Wolffe saving Ailani, what this says about his current mental state and the impact this action has on their relationship overall. 

The mission on Khorm is the first time we see Wolffe since The Malevolence. He’s lost everything. He was Commander, and he was in charge, and everyone who died, died on his watch. He was forced to drift through space helplessly. He couldn’t even defend their escape pod because he wasn’t wearing his armor. He was completely and utterly useless. In later episodes of TCW, we only see Wolffe in his armor, and we rarely see him relaxed. The perceived personal failure of the Malevolence attack has left its mark on him. 

In “The Witch,” Wolffe is still coping with the immediate aftereffects of the Malevolence attack. He can't let anyone else die, no matter how dire the current situation is. He needs some control in his life. He’s The Commander, he’s supposed to have it together. He’s supposed to be the best leader, the best soldier. He needs to be better. He needs to get control.

And in walks Ailani, the girl who’s been dead since the beginning. 

He sees her in that walker, broken and bleeding and seconds away from death, and he can save her. He hides her in armor that once belonged to a now-dead clone trooper. He steals armor off a corpse, a corpse that was once a brother. He buries Ailani in that armor and asks her to pretend. She’s bleeding heavily, and her eyes are glassy, but he doesn’t care. He can do it all. He can save her. He has to. He needs to prove to himself that he can. 

There’s this scene in Doctor Who where the Doctor kills the last of his enemies, and now he’s the sole survivor of the Time War, and with empty eyes and a solemn expression, he says, “I’m the only one left. I win. How about that?” And it’s so interesting because even he knows he’s not the winner. He’s just the last loser—the final loss. 

This line speaks to Wolffe’s attitude post-Malevolence. He is choking on survivor's guilt. He couldn’t save anyone. He wasn’t even wearing his armor. He won his own life, but at what cost? 

Wolffe saves Ailani. This is his “I win” moment. His proof to the universe that he can do it all. He can survive and live, and he can have this “happy” ending that people talk about. Sinker and Boost keep joking about Ailani having this massive crush on him, and despite knowing better, Wolffe decides to feed that. He wants to be loved, and he wants to prove that he can love in return. Besides, maybe he did have a tiny crush back, maybe he deserves to feed that affair. He deserves it.

Saving her over and over is just proving “I win,” proving he’s stronger than fate and hurt. But he’s not. He can save someone who loves him and thinks he’s sane. He can do it. He can win. 

Eventually, it does melt into complete and unconditional love. They care about each other entirely and wholeheartedly, but the foundations on which their relationship starts ruin it forever. 

Ailani wants certainty, and Wolffe wants vindication.

They are both stubbornly trying to defy fate. The love is there, but it’s not enough.