#though to his sister he's the most gorgeous man in the world. and that's what matters

[hetasibs]

Grown-ass man finally learns to cook his own meals rather than relying on his mom & sister, fucking pathetic (endearing)

And they didn't even have to kill anyone for the ingredients this time!

[lazyneonrabbitt]

Sinful

Daryl Dixon x Reader | SMUT

Many years of pretending to be a nun builds up quite the frustration.

~~☆☆☆~~

You didn't speak one word French and you despised religion.

You were on a sightseeing trip with friends when the world went to shit and by pure accident you ran into the one place that had you lying your ass off to be able to survive.

Wait no, you did know a few French words.

"Je ne parlez pas Francais. Englais?" You held your hands up in apology as you excused yourself for not speaking their language. With few words and lots of gestures you were let in and brought to the person who spoke the most English where you continued your lies. Some fake tears and religious hand gestures as you cried in your native language none of them spoke, only to add some more apologies at the end. You were let in as long as you followed their beliefs and eventually made yourself into a part of their supply run group.

Just as you were then brought to the one who could communicate with you best, you were now called to the central area to meet with a man who spoke only English.

An American, he said. An absolutely gorgeous one, you thought.

Even though he looked a mess he was very handsome and you couldn't help but think up a plan to get him alone with you.

You discussed today's plans for the man with your sisters and sent them on their way.

You took the man to an unused room so he could get cleaned up while your sisters washed his clothes and prepared food for him.

"How come yer english is so good?" You didn't expect that to be his first question. "We were taught English in school before the world went to shit. Top of my class too." You happily explained as you ran him a bath.

"Put your clothes in here," you motioned to the basket next to the filled tub. "I'll go take them to get cleaned and bring you a change of clothes and some towels."

He did as you asked and called you over once he was all the way in the water. Once you returned he had cleaned himself up and was enjoying the fact he could relax again for once. You announced your presence by knocking on the door before going in and closing it again behind you. "I got you some clothes. Nothing too fancy but it'll do."

He followed your form around the room, quickly catching how hard you were trying not to stare at him. "If yer uncomfortable ya can wait outside. Call ya back when I'm dressed." His comment caught you off guard and had you turn to face him before even coming up with a reply. "Oh, no. Not uncomfortable at all.." you stammered, sighing and sitting down you started the tale of how you ended up here. "Just as unlucky as I was huh." He smiled at your confession. "Hand me a towel?" You did as he asked and he took the towel to his hips and stepped out of the tub. You were still eyeing everything except for him with a clearly frustrated aura surrounding you.

"What's on yer mind, girly? I know ya aint' lookin' away cuz of god." He knew why, he just wanted you to admit it.

He stepped closer to you, entertaining some stupid tale that surfaced in his mind, narrated by his brother who bragged about the best sex he's ever had with some chick in a nun costume during Halloween.

"You're.. just very handsome." You talked fast in the hope he'd drop it but he clearly wasn't going to. "I aint' exactly yer age.." Even with your loose layers on your squirming was caught easily and you knew he knew. "You're a really good looking man and I don't care that you're probably as old as my dad would be now or if you end up being dangerous I just really want you to fuck me until I see god for real this time, okay?" A frustrated huff ended your ramble before you felt his breath fanning your cheek as he spoke. "Fine by me. So where d'ya wan' it?" He stood behind you with one hand on your hip and the other pointing out different locations in the room. "How 'bout I bend ya over tha' desk, huh? Tha' bed is lookin' mighty fine, an' 'msure tha' rug won't hurt yer knees." His hand came back to rest on your hip.

"Y-- Yes." You were suddenly very aware of his figure pressed against your back and his hands pulling up the layers of your habit. "Yes, what?" His lips were on your neck right after removing the obstructing fabrics. You only nodded in response, which was taken as a yes to all options he suggested and pressed you to walk with him towards the desk before pressing your chest against the wooden surface and running his hands over your panty covered ass. A hand ran up your spine to unclasp your bra while the other pulled your panties down before pressing his hard member against you.

You let out a soft whine and pressed back against him, almost begging him to get going already.

"Impatient, are we? What would yer friends think if they saw ya here with me?" He rubbed his length between your folds, covering himself in your slick and line himself up at your entrance.

"Please.." you pushed back against him hoping he'd just start but the roll of your hips wasn't enough to push him past your entrance. "Wha' was tha'? Wanna confess yer sins to father Dixon?"

"Pleease fuck me--ohgod.." your breath caught in your throat and your hands clamped around the edge of the old wooden desk as he pushed his full length in without a warning. Your face pressed into the your arm to not scream at the stretch. He gave you no time to adjust and set a steady pace. One hand reaching down between your legs to rub at your clit, an apology for not prepping you before while the other kept your hips in place.

You hadn't felt this deliciously full in years and the way his tip hit that spongey spot inside you with every thrust combined with the stimulation of your clit has you close to seeing stars in record time.

You pushed your hips back with each thrust, begging to cum. "Fuck-- so close.." Your words came out as breathy whimpers that spurred Daryl on even more and had you cumming over his cock in a matter of moments. His thrusts slowed before stopping entirely to give both of you a second to catch your breath and move over to the next piece of furniture.

You were easily picked up and manhandled onto the bed, where you were thrown onto your back before he crawled over you and caught your lips in his.

"Fuck, yer so gorgeous." He mused as he kissed down your neck, leaving red marks all over your chest and sucked on your tits. His trail of bites and licks kept moving south until he reached right down your bellybutton. Wrapping his strong arms around your thighs he spread you wide open and licked a thick stripe right over your folds, pulling a loud, muffled moan from you. "Gotta keep quiet, lil' lady. Dun' want yer friends ta hear ya.." He smirked up at you before delving right in, tongue deep inside of you with his nose pressed against your clit. He lapped up every single drop that threatened to spill, like he hadn't been fed in ages. "Taste so good." He loved how you tried to squirm out of his grasp as you quickly approached another orgasm. The rumble of his laugh sending you even closer as he sucked at your clit and send you over the edge again.

Daryl wiped his face with his hand before moving up and wrapped your legs around his waist. "Ya still good?" He caressed your cheek with the back of his fingers.

You nodded with a soft, breathy laugh and wiggled your hips against him. He nodded back at you and lined himself up with you again, pressing in slowly and admiring every reaction your body gave underneath him. His pace was much softer than at the desk and it gave you a moment to really look at the man above you as well. It gave you a chance to really grab and scratch at every inch of skin within reach as your heels pulled him in deeper and helped him set a pace you really enjoyed. The soft sighs that left you with every thrust, right at his ear and the soft fingers in his hair together with the light scratches right at his tailbone had him groaning out in pleasure. "Hah.. keep doin' tha'.." He grunted into the crook of your neck.

You dug your nails harder into his skin and tugged at the messy strands at the back of his neck, moaning just a little louder and bucking your hips to meet his thrusts.

You could feel his thrusts getting more erratic and his fingers moving between you to to pull you over the edge with him. With only a few more thrusts and rubs you both finished, riding out your highs.

"That was.. wow." A shaky laugh left you as you rolled over to look at him. "Ya think I'm done with ya already?" His cocky attitude worked like magic and had you intrigued at what he still had in store for you.

"Haven't fucked ya on tha' old carpet yet." He nodded at the floor at the end of the bed. "Wantya ta ride me." His request was clear, and you were in no mood to decline.

You stretched and got up, moving over to the end of the bed. You felt both your release running down your thighs, running your finger over the inside of the soft legs you scooped up some of it and sucked your fingers clean as you kept your eyes on him.

Daryl let out a deep growl as he got up to grab you and pull you down to the floor.

Your face was harshly pressed into the soft rug. With your hips still up Daryl had the perfect angle to ravage you.

"Ya like teasin' huh." His grumbling was your new favorite sound.

He rubbed his cock between your thighs, smearing your cum all over you both. One hand held you hips up as the other drew soft circles over your asscheek. His touch left you before being returned with a loud smack right to the soft flesh. A whine left your throat at the harsh contact, but that didn't stop him from repeating the motion twice more. "'S whatcha get fer bein' a tease."

He went back to caressing the struck skin softly and pressing the tip of his cock between your folds and starting at a rough pace, easily fucking into your overstimulated cunt.

"Ohh ahpleaaseee slowdown-" his pace was so rough your orgasm crashed into you before you even had a chance to realize you were getting close.

With a chuckle that borderlined on sadistic Daryl pulled out and maneuvered you with your wobbly legs on top of him. He held you up right above him and pulled you down onto his cock, thrusting up a couple of times before stilling.

Only a command of "Ride." left his lips as his hands stilled on your ass, squeezing hard to spur you on. Your body was tired, you had barely any strength left after god knows how many orgasms you had by now and you had no idea if you could keep up with his desired pace.

You placed your hands flat on his chest and lifted yourself up before sinking down again with a huff a few times before whining in exhaustion. "Daryl.." you wanted to beg him to fuck you and get it over with but he wasn't having any of it. His hands on your ass grab on harshly and lift your hips for you and starts fucking himself with you. "Ya feel so good, squeezin' me like tha'.." You couldn't help it you were so overstimulated your body worked on its own. "F-- fill me so good.." you managed to breathe out between thrusts. "Wanna cum.. please.."

Daryl let go of your hip to rub at your clit to help you reach your high. Your pleased noises were like music in his ears. He loved all your tells that let him know you were close. You were squeezing him so tightly he had a hard time to hold off until you finished.

"C'mon doll. One more time.." His thumb rubbed at your sensitive nub a couple of times until your walls clamped around his cock so hard he came right there with you, spilling deep.

"Yeah, fuck seeing god." Your slumped on top of Daryl with an Oof. "I wanna see you all day every day."

Daryl's laugh rumbled against your ear and he kissed your head. "Got more sins to share with father Dixon?" He air quotes the name.

You nodded against his chest.

"Got some years of catching up to do."

~~☆☆☆~~

A/N: I know I used this prompt alreasy but I wanted to turn that quick drabble into a full fic lol.

[ayyy-pee]

𝔼����𝕚𝕤𝕠𝕕𝕖 𝟘.𝟝 - 𝕋𝕠𝕠 𝕄𝕦𝕔𝕙 𝕥𝕠 𝔻𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕜

Discord 18+ - Twitter

Pairing: JJK Men x Female Reader

Episode Summary: After a drunken night of binge watching your (least?) favorite show, you find yourself making a grave mistake.

STORY TWIST: READERS WILL VOTE AFTER CERTAIN CHAPTERS TO CHOOSE WHO GETS A ROSE AND MAKES IT TO THE NEXT WEEK. KEEP A LOOKOUT FOR THE VOTING LINK AT THE END OF CHAPTERS

Story Warning: DRAMA, lying and scheming, REVERSE HAREM, profanity bc I can only be me, arguments, fights probably, heartbreak and tears, (more to come)

Artist Credit: momoya348, Umbra3terna, ilameys,maoyaoyao519, _0_0219 Divider Credit: Cafekitsune (Tumblr)

A/N: IT'S FINALLY HEREEEEEE! I hope you guys enjoy this ride (that you're in charge of in later chapters!!!) I'll put up Episode 1 tomorrow after proofreading!!! <3

“God, this show is so stupid,” you mutter, shoving a handful of popcorn into your mouth while you get settled onto the couch.

“Please…It’s so bad, but I tune in to every season.”

You glance over when your friend reaches into your lap and dips her fingers into your bowl of popcorn and grabs a few kernels.

That was the perfect way to describe what was happening now. You’re currently huddled up on the couch, having spent the day binging the most recent season of The Bachelor until you’re all caught up. The new episode airs tonight and you’re eager to see who Joey ends up picking. Will it be Rachel? She’s gorgeous, funny, and her family seems to really get along with this season’s Bachelor. They have great chemistry. Or maybe it will be Daisy? Though you couldn’t see that working out. The girl is a total bore. Or it could be…what’s her name again? The one who looks a little bit like she could be his sister. Ah, whatever.

You’re not sure when you really began to even give a shit about this mess of a show. It’s corny. No one falls in love within a few weeks of knowing each other. And why does one man or woman need to date twenty people to find someone to marry? Are they that unlikeable in the real world? Not to mention, it’s totally unrealistic. Do these relationships even work out once the cameras cut off? Unlikely. You find the entire premise of the show downright stupid.

And yet, you can’t tear your eyes away as this season’s Bachelor takes each girl out on an extravagant date that…you can’t lie, you would love to be on.

Dancing in Malta? Sunbathing on a yacht off the coast of Spain? Getting to see Niagara Falls up close? Sign you up. You don’t think you would stand a chance being the object of everyone’s affection, but you could definitely milk being a contestant for free trips and good food.

“Why can’t he see that Rachel is the best pick here? Ugh, annoying. You know he’s going to give what’s-her-name the last rose.” Your friend downs her wine in one swig and you don’t bother to hold back the laugh bubbling in your chest. She’s all red faced. You’re not sure if it’s from how passionate she is about the show or from the two empty bottles of merlot she’s managed to down practically on her own, but the glowing hue it gives her highlights the thick scar across her face. A product of her line of work, and said line of work being the reason she’s guzzling wine in the first place.

“Maybe take it easy on the drinks, Utahime.”

She hiccups next to you, slouching in her seat. “I haven’t even had that much to drink!”

“You’ve had most of the wine just on your own!”

“Oh my god, you have one or nine glasses of wine and suddenly you’re wasted,” she mutters sarcastically. “I’m fine.”

You roll your eyes, because you know there’s no going back and forth with her stubborn ass when she starts drinking. 

The living room dims for about three seconds before it lights back up, the show now having gone on commercial break. The rose ceremony is next and despite shit-talking the show only ten minutes ago, you’re eager for the commercials to wrap up so you can see who goes home. It better not be Rachel. You use this brief intermission to go and get some water for yourself but mostly Utahime so she can sober up.

This has been your routine for the last few weeks. Every Monday night, Utahime comes over, peels you out of your bed and forces you on the couch to chug alcohol and watch this ridiculous show. While you find the entire premise of the show nonsensical, you’re grateful for the time it’s given you with Utahime.

You’re fairly new to the Kyoto area and Utahime was the first person you’d met on your first day at your new – how can you put this? – unique job. You see, you and Utahime both work in the field of Jujutsu sorcery. But there’s about where your similarities in the field stop.

Utahime is an active Sorcerer. She’s an instructor raising up the next generation of Sorcerers, building them up so that they can one day join the frontlines to protect the unaware non-Sorcerers of Japan. She’s strong– a grade 1 Sorcerer. Quite impressive. She could easily knock a curse’s head off if she wanted to.

But you? Well, while Utahime is at the top of the ranks of Jujutsu society, you are what some would refer to as a bottomfeeder – an unranked, unimportant, lowly Window. You’re someone who has just enough cursed energy to see a curse. But can you do anything about them? Not unless you want to end up in the nearest trauma center. So if you’re smart, you’ll do your job and whip your phone out to report it so that the real Sorcerers can handle it.

You’ve been in this field for several years now, but working outside of the major cities of Japan. Transferring to Kyoto was your idea of wanting something new and different. Utahime had quickly taken you under her wing. You were certain it was because she took pity on you. A weak, barely gifted Window. But as time went on, you came to realize that that was just Utahime. She was kind and funny, and had a good heart. Well, except when it came to –

“Hey!” Utahime calls from her spot on the couch. You can hear a slur in her words as she speaks and you know she’s opened yet another bottle of wine from who knows where. “Come here! Look at this!” You peer at the television from the doorway of your kitchen and see Utahime has it paused on a very ugly ad. It’s bright white with a background full of red rose petals across the screen. Your eyes roam over the words.

“THE SEARCH IS ON FOR THE ELIGIBLE WOMEN WHO ARE READY TO FIND TRUE LOVE! DO YOU OR SOMEONE YOU KNOW HAVE THE CHARM, STYLE, AND PERSONALITY TO BE OUR NEXT STAR? IF SO, APPLY OR NOMINATE SOMEONE NOW!”

“Will you hurry up? Come look!” Utahime demands, messily pouring more wine into her glass. But it looks like a normal advertisement to you, so you’re not entirely sure what has Utahime’s interest so piqued.

She beckons you again, yelling “Come here!” So you quickly grab a couple bottles of water from your fridge and head back. Utahime is pointing insistently at the screen. “Look. Look really hard.”

You follow the path where her finger points, shuffling closer to the t.v. to get a clearer look. It takes a moment for you to see it, like really see it, but it’s definitely there. Underneath the last line, hidden from the eyes of those unable to see the horrors that you and those like Utahime can, is another message. You fall to your knees, eyes glued to the tiny additional message floating beneath, glowing with cursed energy that reads, “JUJUTSU SorcererS PREFERRED”. 

Confusion slowly takes over your features, the corners of your lips turning down with a frown, a brow arched and skepticism in your eyes. Were you missing something? Was this some sick joke? Were Jujutsu Sorcerers huge fans of The Bachelor or something? You spin around to face your friend who has a look of mischief twinkling in her eyes. You know it all too well, mouth falling open and a finger pointing when you scream “NO” at the exact moment Utahime yells “YOU SHOULD APPLY!”

“Absolutely not!” You must be looking at Utahime like she’s grown two more heads because she looks just as confused as you.

“Why not?! You’d be great on there!”

Maybe she hasn’t grown two more heads. Maybe her brain was swapped while you were in the kitchen because why the hell was she suggesting this?

“Well, for starters, I’m not really looking to date.”

Utahime rolls her eyes, as if that’s just not a good enough excuse. You should just ignore her, snatch the remote from her hand and hit play so you can get back to the show and see who this guy chooses to potentially get engaged to. But for some reason (could be the single drop of wine your friend allowed you to have while she downed the rest), you feel the need to keep listing off reasons to not sign up. “Secondly, I– why would I even want to go on this show?”

Utahime sips her wine, eyes low as she falls into her drunkenness, but you can still see the sparkle of mischief in those brown hues…and it scares you. So you keep talking, chatting away and listing excuse after excuse to your friend, eventually finding yourself back on the couch trying to drive your final point home.

“Besides, they want Sorcerers.” This seems to get Utahime’s attention again, makes her set her glass down as she looks at you.

“I’m sure it’s fine. You are a Sorcerer.”

“I’m a Window.”

“Semantics. You can see curses, can’t you?” Utahime argues.

“...yes.” You shift uncomfortably in your seat. “But I can’t do anything about them.”

It’s not something you should be ashamed of, but there’s just the tiniest bit of you that is ashamed. Because being able to see these monsters and not having the power to do anything about them…well, it feels like a curse in and of itself.

To this, she sighs. “Sorcerers, Windows. They’re just terms used by the higher-ups to keep their stupid, fucked up heirarchy intact.”

You know it’s the wine that’s loosened her tongue. In public, Utahime would not dare to speak so freely. The Jujutsu politics in Kyoto were a lot stricter than they were in Tokyo. Not that that said much anyway. The politics were shit regardless. But Utahime worked closely with those connected to the higher-ups, so outside of this little bubble in your apartment, she kept pretty hush hush about her true feelings.

You watch Utahime closely as she fiddles with her wine glass. She really is beautiful. You think she’d be incredible on a show like this. Which gives you the idea.

“What don’t you apply?”

Utahime leans back, a cackle so loud and abrupt leaving her tiny body.

“No way. I would never date any of these Sorcerers.”

“And you want me to?!” You ask incredulously. You don’t know whether to be offended or not.

Your friend fixes you with a deadpan stare. “You don’t know them the way I do. The only good one out of all of them is Nanami Kento…and Shoko.” She mutters the last name quietly, like it’s a secret that she thinks so highly of her. And maybe it is a secret…the way she feels about the doctor in Tokyo who you couldn’t help but notice has Utahime’s cheeks glowing red whenever she’s mentioned.

“Besides,” Utahime continues. “If I signed up for this and got paired with Gojo –” she shudders at the mere thought of being near the man. “I don’t think I’d be able to keep myself from projectile vomiting just at the prospect of having to kiss him.”

It’s your turn to laugh obnoxiously now, because – “Why the hell would the strongest Sorcerer in a thousand years sign up for this shit? You don’t think he has anything better to do? Like, you know…keep all of Japan safe?”

“Satoru Gojo does whatever Satoru Gojo wants.”

You can’t argue with that. Utahime would know best. She did grow up with him after all. She knew him well. You’ve never met the man, being just a Window, you doubt you ever will. Out of all the Sorcerers, you’ve only ever met Utahime and Principal Gakuganji. You’ve never even met any of the students. You all run in different circles, but that doesn't mean you don’t keep up with the going-ons of the Jujutsu world. Everyone knows Satoru Gojo.

“You should really sign up, though,” Utahime suggests once more. “You might meet a good person. If anything, you’ll get a good vacation out of it.” With that, she stands. It’s clear that the wine is hitting her again, because she wobbles clumsily to the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

If it’s anything like every other week before this, you’ll be peeling Utahime out of your bathtub because she will have inevitably fallen asleep.

Your eyes fall back on the hidden message on the television, reading it over and over before you finally just hit play and let the finale finish.

Joey chooses whatever that girl’s name is. You’re only halfway paying attention because against your better judgment, you’re actually thinking about applying to this. But you think the show is stupid, right? Why would you waste your time? But what if Utahime is right? What if you do meet someone? It’s not that you’re against dating. You’re just not actively in the market for romance because you’ve found that dating non-Sorcerers is more stress than it’s worth.

The constant obligation you feel to regulate their emotions so you can avoid the creation of a cursed spirit that you’ll have to call in and do paperwork for? Exhausting. Not to mention, if you ever grew to truly love this person, you’d be overwhelmed with guilt if a curse manifested and harmed them in any way and you couldn’t do anything but watch in horror as you made a phone call.

You’d never really given any thought to it, but perhaps dating a Sorcerer is what you needed. You could end up meeting an amazing man!

But also, semantics or not, you were not technically a Sorcerer. You were simply a Window. Why the hell would an actual Sorcerer want to be with you? Better yet, what were the chances of this show even choosing you as their next Bachelorette?

- - - - - -

Apparently, the chances were extremely high, because one phone call, four video interviews, a nearly five hour drive from Kyoto to Tokyo, and days of promotional video and photo shoots later, you find yourself standing outside of the Bachelor Mansion, donning the most expensive gown that money could buy.

This is not what you expected. Not at all. There is so much going on. You want to run and hide from every single camera you see being propped up. You want to curl into yourself when the lights come on and the director calls, “Action!” And you see some man you’re just meeting for the first time approaching as he speaks directly to the camera.

“...and she’ll be making history tonight as The Bachelorette’s first Jujutsu Sorcerer,” you hear him tell the camera as he stops just a few feet short of you. Tall, blonde and handsome. He looks like an American football player. “I’m Jesse Palmer, ladies and gentleman. Now, let’s meet our Bachelorette!”

He turns to you, wearing a bright smile. The cameras follow, moving closer to catch a close-up of your face, so you smile as naturally as you can and try not to flinch when Jesse moves forward to embrace you in a swift hug.

Jesse calls your name as though you’ve been friends for a long time. “So nice to finally see you. You look great.”

The camera pans down your body and back up to your face. “Likewise, Jesse.”

“How’re you feeling?” he asks.

“I’m nervous! Definitely nervous, but feeling good! I’m so excited for this,” you lie. You’re dreading this process. But it’s too late to back out now. So you just hold your smile, conversing politely as Jesse makes small talk and gets to know you before the first contestant pulls up.

And you hope that if Utahime is watching, she sees the message behind your eyes screaming that you’re absolutely going to kill her.

[ponderingmoonlight]

Chapter 2: Negotiating Fate - Reluctant Alliance in a New Realm

Pairing: Gojo x fem!reader

Warnings: reader's death, language

Genre: Isekai, Romance, Fantasy

Synopsis: Your life takes a tragic turn as you perish in a car crash, only to awaken in a whimsical world of fantasy with none other than Jujustu Kaisen characters as its main protagonists. But as if that wasn't enough, you're about to marry the prince version of Gojo Satoru. How will you navigate through this world of history and fantasy? Does your life take the same sudden twist of fate as that of your favorite characters?

<- Previous Chapter l Next Chapter ->

“Tell me about the part where she left you standing in the rain again.”

„Are you out of your mind? Get back into the salon right now, (y/n)!”

“My decision stands. I won’t marry a man like Gojo Satoru.”

Your brother spun you around with ease, his hand wrapped around your wrist so tightly that your bones cracked underneath his rough touch while Gojo stayed back inside the salon, visibly surprised by your rejection.

“He is the prince. Don’t you know how lucky you are that he even considers taking you as his wife?”, your brother hissed through gritted teeth, venom spitting from his threatening orbs.

“That doesn’t change the fact that I don’t want him, doesn’t it?”

“She looked at me with a determination in her eyes I never saw in a woman before, told me she won’t marry me and stormed away without another word”, Satoru repeats while his finger glides up and down his chin thoughtfully.

What an unusual experience. Not only for his status as prince, but the given fact that he has a gorgeous face and a well-toned body, all women were head over heels for him since he was young. But you…you looked at him with such disinterest that he can’t stop thinking about you. You, a member of the Zenin family. Even though you already live a carefree life in one of the wealthiest and most influential families of this country, a marriage with a prince would have been your coup, the greatest honor you could bring to your family.

He chuckles.

And you rejected him.

He can’t be mad at his best friend for laughing out loud while shaking his head.

“I never thought I would witness a woman rejecting you. And that as a daughter of the Zenin family, a truly brave Lady”, Suguru finally comments in sheer amusement.

“I wonder why she left so suddenly. She didn’t even give me the chance to explain myself, let alone introduce me properly. You know what she called me?”

“You are nothing but a philanderer, a pompous prince who thinks he rules the world just by the power of his bright blue eyes. Excuse my harsh words, but I am not the one for you, prince.”

“A pompous?”, Satoru repeated, a smile creeping up his face.

“Yes, a pompous. Now excuse me, I was actually busy when you arrived. Have a pleasant travel back home, Prince Satoru.”

“Your reputation seems to precede you, my friend”, Suguru replies before breaking out in laughter again.

Satoru slides forward in his chair, eyes narrowed in a desperate attempt to hold onto the memories of your flawless face. What a remarkable woman you are, truly outstanding in contrast to the usual monotone Ladies he has to endure. It’s not a secret to anyone that he enjoys female company, always surrounded by multiple women at once. But a pompous? It was never more than a friendly talk or two, he never invited one of those boring girls into his sheets.

“We’ll see how this goes, Suguru. Maybe she will come back to her senses, after all.”

“Are you out of your mind, (y/n)?”, none other than your father shouts at you.

You can’t help but swallow hard. His sheer presence alone sends shivers down your spine, well-aware of the fact how threatening the man standing only inches away from you can be.

“Just what I expected. I always knew you are useless, sister. Your only job is to marry the prince and you are even unable to do that”, your brother spits at you.

“Are you even aware of how much time it cost me to arrange the prince of this country visiting you? Are you even aware how much money I spent on your education, your clothes, your maids? Listen to my words: You will marry the prince, (y/n). Or else I will show the world who you really are. Out of all people, you should know best what this world does with people who inherit special powers. You will burn at the stake like your mother.”

You swallow hard, all air drained from your lungs. The way his eyes gleam at you tell you all too urgently that he is serious about his words. Your mother…She was never mentioned in the manga or anime. Is Naobito Zenin cruel enough to kill the mother of his own children? And most importantly, what are those special powers he was talking about? Is this…jujutsu? Are you…a jujutsu sorcerer in this world?

“I am your daughter”, you press out, the hurts almost not leaving your tongue.

“Would you really kill me over a broken engagement?”

“Dear (y/n). I don’t care about who you are. The only reason you are alive until this day is my plan to marry you into royalty. Apart from that, I have no use for you.”

He grabs your arm so roughly that you can’t escape, the stinging smell of alcohol coming from his hot breath almost causing you to choke. In this situation with no way out, the painful truth draws to you.

It doesn’t matter if you really hold special powers you are unaware of in this world or that you are his daughter. If you don’t play along, you will die all over again. Just like you did in your first life…

The glowing headlights of the car crash into you over and over in your mind. The feeling of your bones cracking, your blood discolouring the street crimson, how your heart stopped beating, the violent screams of your friends.

You shake your head vehemently, glossy eyes widen in sheer horror. You don’t want to die all over again, not when you were given this unique second chance. There has to be a way out of this misery. Maybe…Maybe…

“Then allow me to visit the prince myself and fix this situation.”

You still refuse to live a life on Gojo Satoru’s side when there are men like Geto or Nanami. But you will find a solution. After all, this is still somehow the Jujutsu Kaisen universe you know so well, right? You just have to. You won’t throw away your newfound life so easily.

“Now look at that”, he purrs to himself while holding up the piece of paper than informs him about your visit.

You didn’t even wait for his reply. As his valet said, your carriage is already on its way. What made you change your mind?

How ridiculous to even ask this question. Your family is known for being strict, especially when it comes to their female members. Your brother and father probably forced you to rethink your situation and showed you your place. As a woman, you have no worth apart from marrying into a wealthy family. Since the day you were born, your father always tried to find a way for you and therefore himself into royalty. Your whole education was built around the thought that you might become queen someday.

And you rejected his wish by rejecting Gojo Satoru himself.

“Let’s see what you have to tell me, (y/n)”, he mutters to himself.

“Your Majesty, Lady-“

“Good day, Your Majesty. I am deeply grateful for this renewed meeting”, you speak out while you bow politely in the door.

Your heart almost beats out of your chest. It takes all your strength to stop your palms from getting sweaty, to not ruin your makeup out of excitement. Oh, you truly don’t want to be here right now. It is all too clear that you are capable of living a happy life without a man by your side. You’ve been alone your entire life, didn’t care about a male ever before.

And Gojo Satoru is no exception, even in the form of an influential prince.

You bite your lip, fingernails digging into your gloved hands. But still, you depend on his help and understanding at this very moment. If he doesn’t agree on helping you on his own…

You will have to find a way to force him into it.

“I am delighted to see you again, Lady (y/n). Even though this is the only option after you gave me no choice”, he replies with a slight grin.

That bastard. The gleam in his eyes makes it all too clear that he is very aware of why you decided to pay him a visit. With the movement of his hand, he orders you to sit down on an expensive-looking…what is this called? A canapé? He sits down opposite of you, eyes fixated on yours.

“It was truly surprising hearing from you after you rejected me so boldly earlier this morning.”

His words sting like knives, force your eyes to narrow. Well, maybe because you were literally forced here to fix the engagement you don’t want.

You take a deep breath. Catch yourself. If you want someone like Gojo Satoru to give you another chance, you have to stay strong.

“I rethought my decision the second you left. I would love to accept your engagement, Prince Satoru. But only under one condition.”

He tilts his head to the side in surprise. You, having conditions for an engagement with the Prince? How unusual. But the gleam in your lavender eyes tell him that you mean what you say.

“Please enlighten me, Lady (y/n).”

All of the sudden, your fingertips start shaking. You dig your nails into your thighs, take a few deep breaths in and out. Please, just say yes. Please don’t ask any further questions.

“As we will be considered engaged on the outside for the sake of both of our peace, I will follow the duties as the Prince’s fiancé at any official occasion. But I will never have any romantical interest in you, I do not wish to share more time than needed with you by my side. I still don’t want to marry you as well as you aren’t interested in being tied to a single woman. This agreement would benefit both of us and will be dissolved as soon as it no longer has any use.”

Thick silence hangs in the room, tension within reach. He slides forwards, amusement glimmering in his bright blue orbs.

“I respectfully decline your offer, Lady (y/n). Have a pleasant travel back home”, he replies before getting up and making his way out of the room.

For a moment, the world stops spinning, you are too stunned to speak. Did he just…refuse your offer? But why? You always thought he would be the last person who wants to marry a single woman. And if your father pressures you into a marriage, a prince like him is definitely forced to marry soon as well. It is clear that this benefits both of you…So why? Out of instinct, you jump up, hands clenched into fists.

“If you don’t accept…”

Gojo Satoru stops right in his tracks, head moving to the side ever so slightly.

“I will uncover that you are in possession of special powers. I will destroy your reputation and therefore your chances for the throne. So, do we have a deal? ”

Do they have a deal? Find out in next chapter! Let me thank y'all for your amazing support for chapter 1 and this whole idea. I'm beyond excited to share this fic with you and let me tell you the plot will go INSANE with this one - stay tuned! Tags: @m0k0k0 @lees-chaotic-brain @sanicsmut @risuola @fire-loving-siren @sunshine7queen @gatitam @kentocalls @hellkaiserinphoenix @skylarlyn823 @livmarauder @nothisispatrick300 @haileycannotcometothephonern @xstom

[creedslove]

imagin javi dating a young woman who’s an elementary school teacher back in laredo😶😶

Javier Peña x f!reader

A/N: I love this idea, my beautiful anon!

• when Javi returned to Laredo after his time in Colombia he wasn't looking for a woman, nor a family, nor a relationship, despite how hard people tried setting him up with daughters, sisters, cousins or nieces of theirs as everyone seemed to have forgotten his bad reputation after leaving Lorraine at the altar, and as he was now the city's hero after his Escobar years, he was suddenly considered a good catch

• so he still attended the parties he was invited too, greeting old friends and relatives but keeping his emotional distance; Javi knew it was best for him to keep away from women for a while as gossip spread faster than a wildfire in Laredo and he didn't want trouble

• he also didn't want any more hookers, he was also tired of that, he was getting old and he started to feel bad about the fact he had to pay a woman to give him some lovin' for a couple of hours

• so Javi lived his quiet life for a couple of months, just helping his dad out, going for a drink at the local bar, sometimes catching a movie at the small movie theater downtown and even paying a visit to the local library to see if he found anything interesting

• and that was when he ran into you; more like bumped into you, because as he wandered the hallways of books trying to find something that would actually pull him out of that boredom wormhole he got himself into, he saw a pretty young thing carrying a lot of books in her arms - probably more than she could carry on her own, who definitely didn't see him coming and went right towards him

• so technically he didn't bump into you, you bumped into him

• and even if Javier managed to steady you with his large, strong hands on your hips, several books fell on the floor just as you looked at him a little shocked and confused at what had happened

• and with your faces mere inches away from each other's, unintentionally staring into each other's eyes you realized Javier Peña was painfully handsome

• yes, you knew who Javier Peña was because there wasn't a living soul in Laredo who didn't, everyone had heard the stories about Laredo's local anti hero, from a man who was known for being the lady's catch and leaving his poor bride at the altar, to the brave and fierce agent who managed to take down the biggest drug lord in the world

• but what the stories didn't specify was how handsome he truly was

• and Javi wasn't different either, while he held you by the hips, he couldn't even believe his eyes, you were definitely the most gorgeous woman he'd ever seen

• no one in Laredo, Colombia Washington DC or anywhere in the world had been as beautiful as you were

• he was actually so distracted he only then realized he was still holding you by the hips, clearing his throat as the two of you shared a shy laughter at what had happened

• you both apologized for your clumsy first encounter and introduced each other, while he helped you pick the books up from the floor and carry them to the nearest table - after all, Javier was a gentleman

• he knew he should leave and not bother you, but instead, he sat at the table as the two of you chatted, he humbly told you about his (former?) job as a DEA agent even if he wasn't very sure yet and he was surprised to see you were a school teacher, fresh from college

• though he was clearly interested in you, he was also kind of upset to know he was old compared to you, the age gap was quite relevant and he assumed you would only want to hang out with guys your age

• but Javier couldn't be further from the truth, he was just into you just as you were into him; you liked each other and the attraction was big, so it didn't take long for you to start dating

• Javi thought it was funny because he hadn't been in a relationship for long, but it finally felt good and right

• and he was loving to fall into that domestic rabbit hole with you, every day meeting after work for quiet dinners, great sex and enjoy each other's company

• and just as Javi opened up about his job to you, you told him about yours and let me tell you: he had a lot of fun listening to the crazy, funny and shocking stories you told him about your students

• he liked some kids he had never met just by the sweet way you talked about them, and he hated others just because they made you stressed at work

• he loved helping you grade papers and tests, sitting next to you with a red pen and sharing a pile of paper so you could enjoy your weekend together

• he would totally meet you at school to bring you lunch, pick you up for a date or just to put on his badass DEA agent face and scare the kids who mess around too much in class and annoy the hell of you

• he loves listening to you teaching the kids and he can't help but picture the day he will have a tiny little Peña attending your class, he just wasn't sure if his little Peña would call you 'teacher' or 'mommy'

____

[blushweddinggowns]

A Deep Dive into the Munson Marriage: Just Who is Steve Harrington?

By Fredricka Keith

The world has somehow been sleeping on the end of an era. The notorious bachelor Eddie Munson is married. But how did it happen? Who did he fall for? Surprisingly enough, those questions were very hard to answer, despite Munson’s past predilection to be an open book. 

He has been uncharacteristically tight-lipped about his new beau. Tight enough for the majority of his fans to be just as shocked as the general public at the new announcement. Even so, Steve Harrington hasn’t managed to stay completely out of the public eye.

The thirty-three year old has a dismal social media presence, but lucky enough for us, his husband and sister are much more giving. Though Eddie’s Instagram and Twitter mentions of his husband were quickly found to be useless in getting to know the man, despite the number of posts associated with his name. It probably shouldn’t have been surprising, considering how they were nearly all nonsensical compliments, written straight from his stream of consciousness. 

His sister, Robin Buckley, was better, especially considering that she’s been using the same Instagram account since 2012. Through her, we received a little more insight on the man. He had a penance for camping and exercise, often ready and able to drag both his sister and husband with him. According to a Birthday celebration post in 2017 it was mentioned his favorite movie is The Thing (1986) and his favorite cake flavor was southern caramel. 

As for his own career, Robin’s BrotherBartender hashtag was of some use, at the least showing us that the man was capable of creating gorgeous drinks, with a long past career in bartending. But that was it, the only information that was up for grabs.

While the newly Steve Munson has been to a number of events with his husband, he still remains an enigma. The only thing his red carpet showings have proved was that the former Harrington was a master at directing attention away from himself, and his husband was incredibly protective of his privacy. There have been many interviews cut short due to questions he found unacceptable, which was a brand new behavior for the star. His days of being an open book are officially finished. 

But the plot thickens. 

While neither Steve nor Eddie are open for insight, a thorough background check did reveal some interesting information. Surprisingly enough, marrying a rockstar was not Mr. Buckley-Munson’s first experience with the upper echelon. 

Through anonymous inside sources we were able to find that the Harrington last name was familiar for a reason, outside of Steve. His parents, celebrity lawyer Richard Harrington, along with his estranged ex-wife, Adriana Harrington, made headlines in 2012 due to their contentious divorce.

For those not in the know, the two C-list celebrities are most well-known for their continued campaigns against the LGBTQ community, as well as Richard Harrington’s unsavory choice of clients. Harvey Weinstein, Jeffery Epstein, Mitch McConnell, along with his earlier aid work on the OJ Simpson trial. 

His mother, Adriana, while not directly working with some of the most despised men in the country, is famous in her own right. The fifty-one year old has nearly two hundred followers on Instagram, her posts consistently centering around the sanctity of marriage, pro-life advocacy, and bible quotes. 

With this in mind, it is extremely hard to see how their son ended up in not only a gay marriage, but with someone who is flagantly against every single thing they stand for. Though after reaching out to his parents for comment, the picture of how they came together becomes more clear. 

Richard Harrington initially denied all allegations of having any children with his previous wife, despite direct evidence to the contrary. That was until Adriana Harrington settled the score, posting a series of photos of what appeared to be a young Steve Harrington alongside his father. Along with a caption reading: It doesn't surprise me that a liar would lie about his own son. But unfortunately, yes, Steve Harrington was ours. 

Though when asked for clarification on her own relationship with their son, she did not hesitate to reiterate that she had no regrets regarding how their relationship ended. 

“While I wish Steven had taken the tough love he was given to improve himself, I can not say that I’m surprised that he has turned out this way. It’s unfortunate that his deviant behavior has escalated to the level of making a mockery out of the institution of marriage, but that is out of my control. All I can do is rest easy knowing I tried to give him the best life possible. Him throwing that chance away is not of my concern.”

It was an odd choice of phrasing, considering how “throwing” his life away equated to marrying a multi-millionaire. When asked just what tough love she was referring to, she clarified: 

“Steven was given a choice to get help for his affliction or be completely on his own. He chose to be completely on his own. Whatever happened after that choice is a reflection on him. Not me.”

Though when further pressed on just when Steven was given this “choice” she only mentioned that he was “of age” but admitted he was still a teenager at the time of his disownment. 

When asked for comment after Adriana’s claims, the Harrington firm provided the following information:

“Richard Harrington has not spoken to his alleged son, Steven Harrington, legal name Steve Buckley-Munson for nearly fifteen years. While his name is present on Mr. Munson’s birth certificate, the biological relationship between the two has never been confirmed. Considering Adriana Harrington’s past history of infidelity, it is quite likely that there is no actual relation between the two men.

With that acknowledged, Mr. Harrignton would like to reiterate that he has no ties to Steve Buckley-Munson, Edward Munson, Corroded Coffin, or their label Virgin Records. He is a dedicated family man whose loyalties lie with his new wife, his two beautiful young children, and his clients. Those areas are where his focus will always be, first and foremost.”

It is a wonder that such a well-matched duo could ever end in divorce. But their answers only led to more questions. How could Steve Buckley-Munson have a sister if he was disowned as a teenager?

From the last chapter of this (finished) fic!

[captaindibbzy]

Anyway, I highly recommend A Taste of Gold And Iron. A Tumblr style advert for you:

Queer slow burn romance, not quite enemies to lovers, but certainly distain to complete devotion.

Slow burn doesn't do it justice. This book is over 18 hours long at 1x speed. Over 500 pages.

More non-binary representation than you can shake a stick at. Not just one non-binary. Every new character has a 1/3 chance of being çe/çey and there's a whole third gender culture.

In that regard homophobia is not a thing, and sexism isn't. The Sultain is a lady. The head of the guards is a lady. No one comments on it.

The prince is gay and that is as normal as being straight. He's just as likely to marry a man, woman, or NB for political reasons, as nobility do, even though he has a let his sister know his preference. She respects this. This is a plot point.

Everyone is POC, I think? Certainly most of them. The culture is Persian/Turkish/middle eastern inspired so they only white people are foreigners, which we do meet a few, but I can't remember what they were described as.

Captain of the guard is black, in her 50's and WILL kick your ass for looking at her babies (Sultain and prince) funny.

All the characters are amazing and I love them.

Such rich world building. Like you would not believe. There's a big wide world out there and you can feel it.

Conspiracy, political uncertainty. The plot is thick, but there's also so much space for it to flow. Nothing is rushed and it works so well for it.

Mental illness. The main character has chronic and deliberating anxiety, and it is written so well.

Gorgeous description of food. Makes me wish I liked coffee. Gonna need 7 kinds of jam and a basket of simit.

Happy ending. :)

[lutawolf]

The Sign Commentary Review Ep 3

I'm saying fuck it and doing this commentary anyways, even though it's way late. (my kid got into a car accident. Fuck this year.) Anyways I think I'm hilarious so here we go.

Home dude really just let Tharn get kidnapped and looks so lost about it. Hahah! The friend group drinking at the idea of Phaya and Tharn having sex. So dead.

The way these coconuts are stirring up Phaya. And why did his brain go straight to shower. He is so obvious and doesn't even care. Then races out to call the man. Like, are you just now realizing what is going on. This is real life drunkenness, I swear. When Chalothon shows up in the camera feed, it's a total audacity of this bitch moment.

Good news, Chalothon is not having any luck controlling Tharn either. The faces Phaya makes at his phone.

HAHAHA! Phaya's face when he gets back to the table and sees all the guys. He went from being on top of the world to a no good, shitty day real fast. Poor baby, lol.

Phaya's book collection has me jealous. The music playing while he is visualizing the girl. Especially with those subs (mysterious music playing). 🤣🤣🤣 The whole scene with the sister, omg. (mysterious music) (footstep sounds) (footstep sounds) (mysterious music) Phaya's eyes shifting as if in panic. All very dramatic.

Grandma is so pretty!!! She's hilarious too.

Somebody got romance on the brain! I mean, I'm only guessing, between the closeness and the subtitles telling me that romantic music is playing. Then dreams of cuddling Tharn. Cute! I like how the lighting makes them look like they are underwater.

Boy woke up so confused. "I must have thought about him too much." Ya think?!?

Phaya is a talented artist. He has a lot of art of a boy also a side profile of a female. The one we can't see clearly makes me think of the dragon from the water. Is the cat a Cha Kla? Cha Kla is a mythological cat from Thailand.  Legend says that the Ch Kla are terrified of humans and will hide from them, but if they are seen or touched, that person will eventually die. However, they are usually black, where this is white with black surrounding it.

Grandma, "Are they twins?" Then Phaya goes on to fill her in on everything. These two have a very close relationship.

"Did I do anything weird last night?" Boy, that is a loaded question. Ya'll Yai is adorable. He is for sure one of my favorite side characters.

Doc... I'm having doubts that I'm gonna like you. You've barely talked, but you have slime ball written all over you. And what is up with Tharn saying that him and Phaya aren't that close??? Clearly he isn't that close to the Doc if he is hiding stuff.

Nong Khai!!! Nong (low area like a swamp) Khai (lost) is situated on the banks of the majestic Mekong River, one of the world’s longest and most iconic rivers. It's also a very important pilgrimage for Buddhist because of a revered Buddhist stupa that dates back to the 16th century and is believed to contain relics of the Lord Buddha. You know what else it's known for?? Nagas. These mythical creatures are semidivine beings that are serpent shape-shifters. Whether it is a human form, full serpent, or half serpent, half-human form, the Nagas can take up whatever shape they prefer. They are a strong and attractive species, who are regarded as guardians of treasure which resides in the underwater kingdom of Patala-Loka or Naga-Loka, a stunning place decorated in gems.

Now I'm really excited!

💜💜💜 I'm dying. "She's gorgeous." "I know that, but she's also very scary. I'm afraid of her." This honestly makes me like him even more. NGL. They are pretty close with the Abbott. Aww, poor Yai getting ganged up on. *Snickers*

Clues! "While you’re staying here. Let me warn you about something. Make sure you often meditate and dedicate the merits to those whom you have wronged in the past. So that it would help lighten the consequences of your karma. Got it?"

"Is he still not free from them? They’ve been after him since when he was born. That’s why he had to live at the temple. What do they want from him? Why are they so vengeful?"

Shot to sad Abbott and sad Tharn.

Phaya asking the Abbott if he remembers him. Give me answers! Give me! Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh, Finally!!! It's come out that he is the boy that was saved by him!

And we crash again. That's so fucking sad, is this why he thinks the people he loves dies??? "Everything has already been destined. His life is written by the karma he did in his past life." This is so fucking sad. But wait! There is hope! "His destiny has been entwined with someone since his past life. That person will lead him to experience bad things. But it is also that person who would be able to free him from his karma."

Okay, so the Rocket Festival they are talking about and why the date is significant. The Rocket Festival is usually celebrated on the weekends in the middle of May, just before the start of the crop plantation period (the rainy season). This ancient festival is a merit-making ceremony which involves firing home-made rockets towards the heavens to captivate the rain gods and hope for a good monsoon season before the crop plantations take place.

"Whether you’d be free from those whom you have wronged in the past... depends on whether you’d be able to find the owner of this amulet tonight." Damn, that's not ominous. Poor fucking kid.

Ahhhhh, this is when his visions started! No thoughts, he just dives in. This boy does not deserve to have to pay for his past life! I absolve him! You live by a river, and you're just shaking him? Fucking turn him over and smack his back!

Past, Phaya is so puppy dog.

Wait! You forgot to give him the amulet!!! Dumbass kids. Always forget the important part. I mean... Well, I guess saving a person from drowning is the important part, but you know what I mean! Oh good, Phaya found him.

"So, he would probably live for a very long time. But you have to be careful though. If both of your destiny are entwined like what I think... You would eventually find each other again."

And clearly, Yai has always been the way he has been since forever.

Naga! He dreams of Nagas! Usually the festival associated with Naga is the Naga Fireball Festival. Which is celebrated in the fall or Buddhist Lent period. In this festival, people gather along a certain stretch of the Mekong River, to witness glowing red 'fireballs' shoot up into the sky. The number of fireballs sighted can range from hundreds to thousands. The local people attribute this phenomenon to the mythical 'Phaya Nak', a giant serpent that they believe resides within the river.

Okay, I'll shut up now and get back to the show.

"He doesn’t know how to swim. But he still wants to go and play near the riverbank."

"Grandma, I really heard someone calling me there last night."

That's just a great kid. We almost saw the Darwin Theory in action. The stupid shall not inherit the earth. Gee wiz, I hear disembodied voices, let's go investigate near water where I can not swim. This is like me hearing a gun shot and going to check it out. No, I don't want to die, I'm not that noisy. The unknown can stay unknown. Phaya as a kid was so soft and shy. Boy has he changed!

WTF is not wanting to take the amulet. Don't be an ungrateful asshole, kid. Tharn takes no shit, even as a kid.

"What you saw wasn’t a dream. It was your karma." "Are you saying that... they are those whom I have wronged in my past life?"

We're getting closer to answers! Ahhh, we're talking more about the Naga!!! So Tharn was a Naga in a past life??

"You both are destined to help each other Trust each other. Only then, you would be able to free yourself from your karma. Your kind hearts are your best weapon. And remember to always trust each other. Help each other. And you both would live a happy life, like you’ve always dreamt of." Sounds simple enough... (dumdumdum aka thunder sounds)

Oh snap! We got some bad weather! Okay, so Naga have different classes. From the general Nagas who have large bodies like great serpents with a crest on the head and strong poison to the celestial ones who have several heads with lethal poison and supernatural power such as disguising themselves more than just as a human being. Furthermore, certain ones can effect rain. The power to bring rain or cause drought by stop giving it. Some beliefs say they can disguise themselves as rain clouds and/or rainbows. That is why the quote for the Rocket Festival is "How much water will the Naga give this year."

Ohhh, who could this be? The king of Naga? There are a few options, so I won't hazard a guess just yet.

Can I just say that I'm loving that Phaya is chasing after scared Tharn. Yai and Phaya hugging like they didn't just get drunk together the night before. 🤣🤣🤣

"It was quite dark, so I didn't know he actually looks like this." OMG, I'm Dead. Hahaha Yai... I can see why you and your gf fit together.

Ahhhh I'm loving this so much!! You see the Naga decorations on the bridge?? This is in association with their connection to rainbows. The rainbow signifies the bridge between earth and the underworld. Sorry if this shit is boring, you guys! Like I said earlier, I'm way late, and so I'm just writing about what I find interesting. Because I refuse to force beliefs on my children, I give them books on world religions and beliefs. I read it so that I can help them as they read what they are interested in. I find all this stuff so captivating.

The way Yai looks at his girl. So sweet.

Okay, I see what they are doing here with the dream, but I'm dead. That hair and his facial expression. Like he is seconds away from laughing at himself. I would love to see BTS of this part right here.

Look at Phaya just calling Tharn out. Like Bitch, try and run from me. "Why didn't you want to tag along with us."

Isn't that where he was sitting when he had the vision? Phaya, you wish he was hitting on you, lol.

Not matching clothes!!! Tharn bitching all the time but damned if he didn't put on the matching clothes.

He left her cause she was naga! What!

Yes, he is telling you that you are the cause of his bad dreams. But he still wants you to stick around so nevermind.

I love these fools. I love grandma. Now everyone knows that Phaya is the boy that was saved.

I like Sand.

"If what you said is true, Yai and I both love you like our own brother... but we’re still safe and sound."

"Don’t let what the Abbot has predicted come true." Grandma come back! Explain this to me...

Hahah! Tharn is so sassy. "Did you use this kind of story to hit on the girls in France?"

See, no hiding for Phaya. He just straight up tells Tharn that he likes him. I think evil jellyfish is a new favorite nickname for me. I really want to read this book but it's like 15 bucks. Crazy!

AHHH! They finally kiss!!! "And this is called a goodnight kiss."

Tharn's face when Phaya says goodnight. Bless the poor boy. Well fuck, we getting stormy weather over a kiss? What the hell is gonna happen when they do more!?! I think I liked it better when the sex just woke up the evil twin, not cause destruction of humanity. Tharn is cute but I don't know that he is Noah Arc worth it kind of cute. Just saying.

Running scared! But that's okay cause Phaya is very willing to chase. Even tackle.

"Do you want to get hurt?" Phaya over here like, yes please. With a cherry on top. I love the cockiness of both of them. I adore when Phaya puts his tongue in his cheek. These two! Thank you Saint! You are a blessing amongst men. I really enjoy this kind of foreplay. No punches were pulled. Noticed Phaya is wearing the talisman.

Ahhh, it's the forcing him to submit and then telling him he is a good boy for me.

I’m Police Major Akkanee Assawawaisoon, your team leader. Yay! He is back!

I love these coconuts. Tharn going and sitting by your brother, Phaya is going to kick your ass again.

Ahhhhhh. I'm so excited for this saturday!

[izurou]

THE AIR BETWEEN US FT. SUNA RINTAROU

synopsis: your best friend comes to a realization when you go out on a date — leaving him all alone in his brand new home.

contains: female reader. best friend suna. brief mentions and allusions to marriage. reader is a bit oblivious to rin’s feelings. swearing. lotta banter. one small part features jus rinnie (while reader is on her date) 2.8k words.

note: okok i’ve never written smth like this before but i’m so super proud of it and had so much fun ?!? ahhhh :’)

rintarou’s apartment is warm.

a little place about five minutes from the heart of downtown—rather mundane, and lacking a bit of everything. he has a few decorative pillows and other small trinkets, most of which were pawned off on him by his mother as he was moving out.

almost everything else he now owns was bought on a whim, with no regard for how any of it would tie together in a room. luckily, he had no desire for colour, and opted for neutrals when available.

his home is often quiet, lifeless—whether he’s there or he’s not, varying shades of navy blue seep through the blinds and cast dark shadows onto his walls.

he’s adjusting to it—the solitude. getting himself out of bed every morning, no incessant nagging from his father about it being half past noon, no music blaring from his younger sister’s room. it’s just him, the buzzing of his toothbrush, and the little sticker on his bathroom mirror that reads hello gorgeous, courtesy of atsumu.

and yet, out of the handful of times you’ve been there, the space has felt nothing but alive—with artificial orange hues filling the rooms, and the scent of freshly sprayed linen hanging in the air. even with the crisp breeze floating in through the wide open windows, it’s warm.

but sometimes, it’s incredibly loud.

“professional big spoon?” you hear him howling from the kitchen, mock and hilarity woven into each syllable—and immediately, regret starts to bubble in your chest.

you have a date tonight, soon. it’s nothing more than a casual dinner, with a guy you recently met on a dating app. he’s cute, tall, friendly—which is already more than you could say for most of the men on there, so why the hell not?

of course, upon hearing about the whole ordeal your best friend insisted that you come over the day of. you knew he’d want to poke his nose in your business and ask about the man—but the more rintarou talks, the more you begin to think he invited you here just to ridicule your match.

“this has gotta be the world’s douchiest bio,” he scoffs, furrowing his brows as he stares down at the screen. “6’2 my ass.”

he mutters the last part under his breath, opening his near empty fridge in search of something to wash down the sour taste flooding his mouth.

“what does he gain from lying about his height?” you chime, slipping into the room and watching as rintarou tilts his head back, chugging the remainder of yesterday’s gatorade.

he wipes at his mouth with the back of his palm, shifting his gaze over to you. quickly—he allows his eyes to travel from your head down to your feet, and back up once more.

hm.

“more matches,” he shrugs, leaning against the edge of the countertop and averting his attention back to the screen. “a little confidence, maybe.”

“so, you lie on your dating profile too?” you quirk a brow, tossing your jacket over the back of a of dining room chair. you slink a bit closer, preparing to snatch your phone back as soon as the chance presents itself.

“i don’t have to,” he huffs, jerking his hand away mere seconds before yours comes swooping in. “too slow, thanks for coming out though.”

“rin, stop fucking around,” you grumble, tugging on his arm as he holds it above his head. “you’re going to be the best man at our wedding, right? might as well practice not being a giant ass while you still have time.”

tch.

“hey, easy lovebird,” he hisses, feeling your nails dig into the skin on his wrist. his nose scrunches up and his brows furrow—a grumpy, get the hell away from me face you know all too well. placing the base of his palm flat against your forehead, he lightly pushes you away. “i’ll definitely be the best man there, but i’m not giving any speeches.”

“whatever, give me back my phone,” you mutter, glancing at rintarou’s brand new, never been and hopefully never will be used oven. “we’re meeting at eight, i have to go.”

“here, might wanna declaw before you leave,” he hands over the device and frowns, rubbing at the subtle red line forming near his elbow. “fuckin’ gremlin.”

you ignore his comment, reaching for your jacket and slipping the leather onto your arms. you fiddle with it, shifting and repositioning the fabric until it sits on your shoulders just right. it’s a bit oversized, but not too much, and it compliments the black lace trim on your cami. at least, you think it does.

“do i look okay?” you ask, peering up at rintarou who, is now wrist deep in a bag of calbee hot and spicy potato chips.

“mmm, you look like you do every day,” he replies through a mouthful.

“wow, i’m sure there’s thousands lining up to hear that one,” you laugh, and something resembling a smile forms on his lips.

“what can i say?” he agrees, weakly gesturing to himself before bringing his fingers to his mouth and sucking the flavouring off. he strolls over to the front door, where you’re already reaching for the knob—trying desperately to flee. “hey, text me later, okay?”

“will do,” you assure.

“and have fun,” he adds, leaning his head against the doorframe as you step out into the hall. “but not too much.”

“yes, mother, bye now.”

he watches you practically skip down the narrow, dimly lit corridor until you disappear around the corner—and again, he’s alone.

⋆

rintarou props his feet up on his little black coffee table, aimlessly flipping his way through netflix—searching for something, anything to distract his saboteur mind.

it’s dark, the sun has long been set, and hues of navy blue bleed past the blinds. the streetlights outside paint the shadow of a tree onto his living room wall, though it resembles something much more frightening—a monster. could it be the same one who used to hide under his bed when he was a kid?

he continues to scroll until he comes across an anime, ouran high school host club. huh, you like that one. not his cup of tea by any means, but it’ll do—it’s just something to fill the silence after all. a shiver greets rintarou’s spine as he presses play, and he instinctively nuzzles into the collar of his sweatshirt. it’s cold.

craning his neck back, he narrows his gaze onto the window—wide open and practically begging for the frigid air to waltz right in. he inhales, shuts his eyes, and exhales. it’s too far.

he blindly throws his hand over the back of the couch, patting around until he feels the familiar fluff of his old rick and morty blanket. usually, it’d be sitting at the foot of his bed, but he just so happened to be in a similar predicament before you arrived late this afternoon.

he spreads the fleece over himself, and it barely covers three quarters of his body, but it’s a hell of lot better than nothing. he tugs his sleeves over his balled up fists and crosses his arms over his chest, allowing his eyes to close once more.

yes, this’ll do. he can feel himself drifting off, becoming less aware of the sounds emanating from the television, less aware of the nagging thoughts feeding off his brain—except, for one.

vows don’t count as speeches, do they?

⋆

rintarou wakes to a low buzzing—vibrations that stem from the pocket of his hoodie and roll up his torso. someone’s calling.

he reaches, but his hand is forced to take a detour to the back of his neck, where a kink is in the midst of settling into the muscle. a few profanities slip out, all directed at himself for not laying down like a normal nap taking human.

“yeah?” he answers, leaning his head against the back of the sofa while pressing the device to his ear. he didn’t bother reading the contact name—he hasn’t heard from his mother at all today, and she’s made a daily habit of checking in on him, asking if he’s eating proper meals and doing his laundry.

at this point his microwave has stolen the title of best friend right out from under your nose, and there’s a basket of clean clothes that’s been in the corner of rintarou’s bedroom for the past three days. still, he always answers yes.

“rin, did i wake you?”

wait—it’s you. what time is it?

“oh, hey. yeah, you did,” he yawns, squinting at the tv, where a few boys in purple uniforms are talking about—fancy tuna? you are so weird. he pulls back for a moment, peering at the numbers sitting at the top of his screen—9:13 pm. “you home already?”

“no, i’m still here.”

shit, he better start practicing his i object.

“well? did they give him a booster seat?” there’s a teasing lilt to his voice, but his expression remains deadpan.

“he didn’t show up, rintarou.”

yes, maybe he doesn’t have to.

“huh? so you’ve just been sitting there?” he asks, using a finger to push the fluff on his blanket from side to side—against the grain, and with.

“yeah, i had hope for a while.”

he wants to say something—but he can’t decide on what. is this the appropriate time to insert a short joke? usually, he wouldn’t give it a second thought, especially when it comes to you. you’ve been there for at least eight of his top ten most unsavoury comments—such as when he felt the need to guess how many husbands your english teacher has had throughout the years while she stood not two feet away—only to settle on none.

yet, the thought of you sitting all alone at a table somewhere—dolled up and waiting for someone who never even planned on coming in the first place—has the wings of every butterfly in his stomach wilting, causing them to nosedive into his bottomless pit of gatorade and potato chips.

so, he finally decides.

“i’ll come pick you up,” he blurts out, shoving rick and morty off to the side before rising to his feet.

“no, you don’t have to do that,” you protest—guilt lingering in your gut and causing you to second guess your decision to call. he’s been so sluggish as of late—sleeping in past his alarms, napping more often. it’s obvious that life has been doing a number on him recently. the last thing he needs is to be dragged out.

“no? why else would you call?” he hums, shuffling over to the pitch black void where his kitchen is. he feels around a bit until the familiar jingle of his car keys fills his ears. “text me the address, i’ll be there soon.”

he hangs up without warning, leaving you with no choice but to sit and wait.

rintarou grimaces as he nears the door, feeling a gust of wind as it sneaks in through his window and engulfs the entire living room in a frigid hell. he’s tired, exhausted even—and he doesn’t feel like driving right now.

but, he’s glad you’re dragging him out.

⋆

“don’t even say it,” is the first warning you give rintarou when you slide into the passenger seat of his car. he’s sitting, slouched forward a little as he rubs his hands together for warmth. you know the words are right there on the tip of his tongue, but you don’t want to hear them.

“oh come on,” he groans, visibly annoyed by your sudden demand.

“i’ve been embarrassed enough tonight, thanks,” you give him a faux smile—the passive aggressive kind you’d give to an irate customer.

“so, shouldn’t you like be used to it by now?” he mimics your tone, slightly raising the pitch of his voice.

“tch, you’d think so,” you mutter, noting the stray flakes, fluffy and white, that begin to encase his vehicle. huh, first of the season.

a comfortable silence settles between the two of you—nothing but the sounds of wet tires on pavement and an overly enthusiastic radio host.

rintarou’s never been one to offer verbal support to his friends, or anyone for that matter—it makes him feel awkward, vulnerable. he’s more or less always let his actions portray his feelings, so—him taking twenty minutes out of his evening to come get you means something, you’re sure of it.

still, you like seeing him squirm a little.

“why do you think he didn’t come?” your voice is like a dagger, cutting through the silence before settling at the base of his throat.

“dunno, maybe he has trouble getting it up,” he responds, dulling the blade completely.

“rintarou,” you sigh, blunt and a little defeated—but he swears he can feel you breaking skin with the second syllable of his name. eyes on the road rintarou.

“i don’t know, does it matter?” he tries, sweeping your attempt to kill him right under the rug. however, the wound is already there—open and weakening his resolve by the second. “it’s not you.”

“and if it is?”

“it’s not,” he’s firm, hoping that his words drill into that pretty little head of yours. “he’s missing out, would’ve been one hell of a wedding.”

“yeah,” you agree, “i was looking forward to that speech of yours. highlight of the night.”

“what about when i start drunk dancing with this guy’s mom?” he says, glancing over to catch the smile blooming on your lips—and it’s as if that dagger never existed at all.

“you? dancing?” you scoff, watching as rintarou’s skin glows a momentary orange with each passing streetlight.

“just because you’ve never seen it, doesn’t mean it can’t exist,” he’s quick to defend himself—clearly taking your disbelief to heart.

you turn, holding back laughter as a very specific mental image pops into your brain. rintarou—drunk off his ass in a suit and tie, holding the hands of your groom’s mother as he awkwardly tries to dance with her—simultaneously pissing off half the guests in attendance.

you wonder how many drinks it would take for him to get to that point, or if it’d even take any at all—you’re almost certain that a pep talk and a measly twenty from atsumu would suffice.

either way, the thought alone almost has you wishing this date would’ve gone a little better.

⋆

now, the route back to your place is quick—but it’s not the one rintarou took. instead, you’re coming up on the small 24 hour convenience store, which is about a two minute walk from his place.

“rin,” you start, “i thought you were taking me home?”

“huh?” he glances over at you, putting on a faux look of innocence. “all i said was that i’d pick you up.”

“asshole,” you mumble, noting the increase in wind—which is giving the illusion of a horizontal snowfall.

“relax,” he snorts, pulling the car up in front of his apartment. “i’ll drive you home later, now get out.”

you watch as he shoves a hand into the pocket of his sweatpants, lifting his hips ever so slightly to fish a pair of keys out—one large and one small.

“head up, i’ll park.”

he waits for a moment, watching as you scurry up the stairs and into the warmth of the lobby before he drives off into the parking lot.

in a matter of twenty minutes, the weather has taken a turn for the worse—and rintarou braces himself for the short walk to the side door. he’s going against the wind, hands shoved into his pockets, hood blown off his head. he can feel the wind creeping beneath his sweater, penetrating his skin. it’s horrible.

then, it’s not. he’s inside, safe from the storm threatening to tear the building from it’s soil. he opts to take the stairs—remembering what his father once said about taking an elevator during a storm.

his nose and ears are pink, bordering red as he swiftly makes his way down the hall. as he nears his suite—a warm amber glow greets him from beneath the door, and his chest tightens. those damn stairs, maybe he should take them more often.

he swings the door open, and there you are—sitting on his couch, drowning in his blanket, table side lamps on, window shut.

“what the fuck, rin!” you gawk, pulling your knees to your chest and shivering. “close your goddamn windows before you leave.

he can feel it too, this numbing temperature—it’s much worse than it was before his nap.

“also, i cannot believe you were watching this without me,” you cut him off before he has the chance to respond—and he’d expect to be embarrassed having been caught, but he’s not.

he’s happy, because you’re patting the spot next to you while wearing what he thinks has to be the most beautiful smile he’s ever seen. maybe he should start practicing his i do.

because even with the season’s most polar air standing between the two of you,

rintarou’s apartment is warm.

[1025flora]

skz as your best friend who is (not so) secretly in love with you

genre fluff , humor pairing ot8 skz x !femreader warnings not proofread

chan

"oh yeah yn is my best friend actually"

literally obsessed.

tries to hide the delulu (not good at it)

tells you about every single project he's working on

honestly just get married already???

most people think you're actually dating...

became your friend because he thought you were pretty, but stayed your friend because of a thousand other reasons

definitely takes notes for you when you're out

lots of dimple smiles when you do literally anything???

minho

quiet in public, but the world time yapping champion when its just you two

will say the most cruel and slanderous thing while looking at you with the most loving eyes

texts random bad selfies with no context

gags and scoffs when people suggest you two as an item, but on the inside he's eeking

"send me that pic of you from earlier"

you may or may not be the only person on his private story

attends every single event you're involved in, no matter how inconvenient it would be for him

soonie, doongie, and dori adore you

changbin

buddy (romantic)

thinks about you every second of his day

"hey look what i made!!"

needs everybody to know that you are his best friend

"she even asked me for the time..." *fist pump*

doesn't pressure you to go to the gym with him but he reeeaaaallyyyyyy wants you to

"do u hate me" texts in the middle of the night

swings his legs when you guys call

waits for you outside your classes so you can walk in between periods together

wants to be nonchalant and cool and mysterious about you SO BAD but he fails

hyunjin

ouh this man is delulu!!!

has your future lives planned out in a pinterest board

sketches you in class

"hey babe" when you are BOTH single

late night grocery store runs for no reason... he just likes how you look at night

"i forgot my wallet🥺" typa man

fully convinced you do not and will not love him romantically

a textbook hopeless romantic

will wait for you outside in any weather. coldfront, heatwave, rain, shine, that man is THERE

all the nicknames... like definitely calls you "blondie" if you're blonde

jisung

so nervous around you even though you two are best friends???

writes songs for you all the time, terrified to show you

one day wishes to sing every single one to you

"good morning!" "how was your day pook?!" "good night <3" every. single. day. never misses

prefers to just stay in and talk with you, about anything

"bbama misses youuuu" whenever you aren't at his house

you do make him flustered most of the time

a couple playlists made just for you tucked in his spotify library

wants to call you all the couple names but afraid you'll hate it

talks about you with the guys (they are SICK of it)

his thoughts towards you are just the lyrics of gorgeous by taylor swift

felix

tells you absolutely EVERYTHING

5 paragraph essay about his day every night

and yes expects the exact same from you...

you text on discord (sorry)

makes treats just for you in secret

in any setting that you aren't in, he calls you his

makes video memos for you when you're gone and secretly hopes you'll do the same

his sisters tease him daily about how he talks about you, but he doesn't care

wants everybody but you to know he loves you

his second favorite color is your favorite color

seungmin

all of the confidence and sly in his attitude vanishes as soon as you walk into the room

your personal butler

holds your hand just 'cause

"this would look so good on you"

you two share headphones everywhere

head on your shoulder, chin on your shoulder, oh and definitely elbow on your shoulder

matches his jewelry to yours

at karaoke, he points and sings at you for the love songs, but you usually think he's joking

will love you unconditionally forever, even if you never feel the same

jeongin

"but you looked hot...? why are you changing"

weirdly confident around you, like his attitude changes when you walk into the room

loves to do your makeup, and vice versa

he jokes so much that you think he's sarcastically in love, little do you know it's all from the heart

brings you coffee every morning at school/work

"this song reminded me of you"

makes sure your outfits coordinate

pays for EVERYTHING

you are his princess!!!!! in every sense of the word!!!

a/n omg first post here..... hope u guys like it 🙏 reblog or like if you read puhlease

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Falling Water Cease to Roar

Bones in the Ocean Masterlist

CW: 'It' used as a pronoun, references to past murder/abuse, captivity, referenced mind control/magic

The grandfather clock that stood along the wall by the fireplace in the study ticked, lazily but inevitably marking the passage of time while Ford stared down into the glass of amber bourbon he’d poured himself to stop his hands from shaking.

In an hour, he would hopefully be drunk enough to make dining with his father, his sister, the absolutely gorgeous woman upstairs his father intended to force him to marry, and his father’s beautiful monster something he could bear. For now, though, he was sober enough that the horror weighed too heavy. He was slumped in the overstuffed leather chair, close enough that the warmth of the fire touched him, but it could not fully penetrate his skin.

The worst thing, of course, was that the monster was in here, too.

It sat in a different chair, over by the window, staring at the sunset with a look of fixed intensity, barely blinking. It had every appearance of being an unnaturally beautiful man a decade or so older than Ford was, but of course it was at least close to two centuries old, and really… who knew how long it had lived before Guilford Wentworth had come across it? 

It wore the loose shirt and pants it had been given as if they were chains, shifting uncomfortably every few seconds. Its bare feet pressed into the softness of a plush rug beneath its chair. Ford stared as it… wiggled its toes, like anyone might at the simple comfort. Like any human, any… person.

The creature had been there his entire life, just one more tool in his father’s toolbox. The biggest and most useful one. He had watched with growing dread as he aged while the thing sang affection into his father’s friends, obedience into his enemies, and… love into Ford’s own mother, over and over, every time her mind threatened to stray away from it. 

Just as it would sing love into the mind of the woman upstairs, love into him, and even after that it wouldn’t be enough to please his father’s demands. No… time was running out for Ford’s own mind to remain his own. 

Once the wedding was done, and the monster had done what it was commanded to do, Ford would be nothing more than what his own true father had been. He’d be a puppet, going through the motions with a stupid smile on his face, until he was no longer needed and was tossed into the toybox to rot.

How would he be made to do it? He looked over at the monster again. It looked so… calm and peaceful, resting its chin on one hand, the light from the setting sun warming its brown skin and making its eyes seem oddly ablaze. It never looked all that dangerous, but… although Ford had been young, and the twins only just born, he remembered very clearly watching the monster sing a pretty song and then his true father walk into the pond in the garden to meet it. He remembered how its jaw had opened far too wide, how it had had too many teeth when it fell on him. There had been so much blood in the water. 

They hadn’t known he was watching.

Ford wondered sometimes if he’d have been sent into the pond as well, if they had seen him peeking over the windowsill in his mother’s room. 

Would Guilford Wentworth allow his so-called firstborn son to make requests on the manner of his murder, once his life became inconvenient to the grander plan? Maybe. Maybe he could ask, once he’d had a child of his own-

His stomach flipped, nerves and nausea battling within him when he thought of the look of fiery defiance in the eyes of the woman upstairs. She did not want this. He did not want this. But of course, that mattered very little when Lord Guilford Wentworth, second only to the king and with a terrible magic at his command, wanted it.

Not when he had a monster to remake the world to his liking, and all Ford had was his pitiful anger and no skill, influence, or fortune he could use to effect an escape. Had his true father been this frightened, before his wedding? Had his mother loathed Guilford Wentworth like the woman upstairs so clearly did, before the monster wiped her clean of everything but softness and light? Had his true father regained his mind at the end, when the monster’s teeth tore out his throat and he had only seconds to live?

And if he had, was it a mercy to die his own man, or simply a darker murder?

His fingers tightened around the cool glass until he worried it might crack under his grip. Thinking of his true father and the days after when he had screamed himself hoarse that it had been murder while everyone around him mourned the unfortunate drowning accident… it ached, and he had to shove the memory away as far as he could. He’d been shoving that memory aside most of his life, and he was an expert by now at how to bury it. He took a breath and then sipped the bourbon, letting the liquid burn down his throat and warm his shoulders, his chest. 

He took another drink, a deeper one, and this time he coughed when the liquid felt like it tried to go into his lungs and not his stomach, his chest suddenly felt like it was on fire within, burning behind his breastbone. He had to lean forward and pound his chest with a fist, coughing breathlessly and then jerking in air in graceless gasps. 

The monster did not move - but its head turned, just a little, to look over at him. It should be a crime, to be a creature of such evil and have such beautiful eyes. “... are you dying?” It asked, voice low and devoid of any real curiosity. 

“N-No,” Ford spat, finally feeling air enter his lungs more easily as he gulped oxygen down. It felt like spots danced at the corners of his eyes, fading as everything settled. His heart, though, still raced. When had he last heard the monster speak aloud? “I’m fine. Just went down the wrong way, is all.”

“Mmn.” The monster turned away from him. “Good. I would be blamed if you died here.”

“Why do you care if you are?” Ford’s eyes narrowed. He set the glass down on a small table next to his chair with a hard enough crack of glass on wood that he winced, hoping the pricey liquor wouldn’t leak onto the wood, make a stain, and get him in trouble. 

No. He was a grown man, and he would not fear his father’s beatings, not now. He would not let that creeping terror of Guilford’s rages keep him from standing, stalking across the room to the monster, and standing before him.

He leaned over, pitching his voice so low it wouldn’t even carry to any servant who might be lingering on the other side of the door, eavesdropping for anything they might take to Guilford to get Ford in trouble again. “We both know damn well, monster, that you’ll be the one to kill me eventually, anyway. So why do you care if it happens now?”

It did not stand, but its eyes flicked upwards to meet his where he loomed over it. From this angle, he could see the tattoos, the swirling loops and and arcane symbols that moved from just under its jaw down one side of its neck, disappearing into the neckline of its shirt, reappearing in glimpses along its wrist and hand where they came out from its long sleeve. He could see, too, scars around the unmarked side of its neck. They were so faint he’d never been close enough to notice them before. The scars circled, layered over each other. 

The monster held his gaze. “He will be displeased with me if his plans have to be changed. I will bear his anger again.”

“You…” Ford trailed off. The monster raised its eyebrows. Despite its posture reading as nothing more than lazy insolence, he could sense tension. When his eyes followed the line of its arm, he found its fingers were trembling, minutely, where they lay seemingly relaxed against the arm of the chair it sat on. There were scars faintly visible around its wrists, too. Its throat shifted as it swallowed, holding perfectly still. 

Ford had spent his life learning how to appear like a happy first son of one of the wealthiest families in the world, while secretly fearing his father’s every hint of disapproval for the violence it would bring on. He knew what it looked like to be frightened and yet determined not to show it. 

He knew he saw the same fear in it now that he knew so well. Carelessness was an armor, a magical cloak of invisibility for true feelings, but it was one that you could see easily if you’d worn it yourself. 

Its eyes narrowed and its top lip shifted, revealing sharp fangs for teeth, a hint of a defensive snarl.

“Stop it,” Ford commanded, but some of his anger had gone. 

“I do not serve you,” It said, its own voice holding both its human tongue and a lower, animal growl that rumbled underneath. “I will not kneel or lay down for you. Touch me and I will tear off your hand.”

Ford took a step back, and then another, almost stumbling until he bumped into another chair and didn’t so much sit as fall backwards into it. “You won’t what-”

Its bared its teeth fully, then, briefly showing him the full force of its razor-sharp fangs before it turned deliberately away, to look back at the sunset. Dismissing him the same way his father used to, without even speaking a word.

Ford stared at its impassive face, back to seeming utterly human now that it was no longer showing its surreal, hideous teeth. “... I saw you kill my father, you know.”

Those eyes moved briefly to him, then back to the window. “I kill all the fathers. A few of you have seen me. Your children may see me kill you. Every time is different. Every time is the same.”

Ford swiped his hand over his mouth and let his head drop until it hit the back of the chair, staring up at the ceiling, letting the simple mundane horror of the words flow over him like water. Dipping his head beneath the surface of such easily-spoken and awful truths. His heart pounded, thumping against the inside of his chest as though trying to batter its way out. “Have you ever not killed anyone?”

“Yes.” Ford looked back at the monster in surprise, but it only watched him now, evenly, with no expression on its face or in its voice. “I told a child to run, once, and she lived. The rest… even if I do not rip them apart myself…”

“They die because of you. We die because of you.” It nodded, face utterly blank. “Don’t you…” Ford gestured aimlessly, not even sure what the movement of his hands was meant to represent. “Feel the slightest bit bad about it? Regret? Remorse?”

“You are human. You are his blood, you are like him-”

“I am not like him!” The denial roared out of him - the shouting was so loud and seemed to come unbidden, and it took him until the end of the sentence to realize it was he himself who was shouting. He was on his feet in an instant, closed the short distance between them, and he had slapped the monster full across the face before he understood he had moved at all. “I am not!”

His palm stung, hot and buzzing, and he stared at the monster who looked at him with that snarl yet again, one side of its face flushing bright red already, eyes glimmering with the reflection of the dying day. “Are you not?”

Its voice was low, and its aim true.

Ford hitched in a breath, horror washing cold through him, sweeping away the anger that had driven him forward. He had never hit another-

No. It wasn’t a person.

But still…

If he resorted to his father’s violence so readily, turned on another what had once been turned on him, was he even a person?

Perhaps they were both monsters. 

“I-... I’m sorry,” He said, his voice slightly strangled, looking away. Something very like a scream was trying to claw its way up his throat and he had to fight with everything he had to keep his voice level and even. “I apologize. That was… I should not have-... I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

He all but fled back to his glass, drinking the rest of it in a few quick swallows, breathing harshly as the warmth spread but could not fight the cold loathing of himself that one small slap had brought to the surface. He set it back down with a shaking hand, putting the other up against his forehead, closing his eyes tightly against the hot rush of tears that he would not allow to fall.

Once he felt more in control of himself, he took the deepest breath he could, expanding his lungs until he felt they might burst, and then slowly exhaled again. 

When he found the courage - just barely - to chance another look at his father’s creature, the monster was watching him with the first genuine, open expression he’d seen it make. 

It was surprised.

There was a pause while it stared at him, and he stared back. Then, it said, in the same low voice always, “Help her.”

“What?”

“Kiraya Losna. Help her, and save us.”

“Save… you?”

It hesitated, and just as it opened its mouth to speak again, the door swung open. Ford turned on his heel to try and look unsurprised, but it was only his father’s butler.

“Miss Kiraya Losna and Miss Nathalie will be escorted momentarily to the dining room,” Babbage said, cheerful as always. If he was even able to sense the tension in the room, he seemed to ignore it. Although perhaps he couldn’t see anything but whatever Ford’s father wanted him to see. “Your father is already seated, Master Ford. You will join him now, you and your friend.”

Ford’s eyes shifted to the monster and then back. “My-... Ah. Of course, Babbage, thank you.”

Babbage bowed his head, briefly, and then walked away on silent feet. He always moved like that - he’d caught Ford at childish nonsense many times in his childhood, because he was impossible to hear unless he wanted to be heard.

Although Ford could have sworn he’d once or twice heard Babbage shouting in the night, incomprehensible, silenced before Ford had ever been able to quite understand what was wrong. And each time, he was right as rain the next morning, with a smile and a welcoming pat on the shoulder. 

Ford took steps that felt like walking to a gallows, the monster falling in just behind him, as if they were old friends. He could feel its presence at his back, goosebumps rising on his arms, but there was no threat, no danger. Only his own nerves pouring acid through his veins. 

“Help her,” The monster whispered once more. “If you are not your father, then be a man better than him. Free me and I will harm no more of you. Go to her room and bring her down to speak to me. Free me. Please. Please.”

“I do not trust you, monster,” He murmured, barely moving his lips. “Why should I believe your words at all?”

“Better to hope for my honesty than to fear your father’s anger.”

Ford’s teeth ground together. What could he possibly say to that? His father would be furious beyond all reason if he let his prisoner loose to roam the halls of the house or run away entirely. His rage would be all-encompassing. He might decide to marry Nathalie or-... god forbid, one of the twins off instead. Damning them to the fate he now faced seemed a worse sin than any other.

But…

The monster did not seem to want to be here. If it wanted only to escape, his father’s control would be shattered, and Ford could be free.

If it was only trying to lead him to the slaughter, well… That would be terrible. But if it was looking to escape and he did nothing, then… his father’s monster would doom him to lose his mind and then his life. It wouldn’t even care about the loss. Indeed, it would make sure no one cared about the loss in the end, the way his mother had mourned his true father only for a night before she seemed to simply forget he had ever existed as anything but a faint, lovely daydream by noon the next day. 

His life, all his wants and dreams and wishes for his future would dissipate like smoke, unmourned, unmissed, because of this thing that sat in a chair like a man and sang magic like a demon. 

But it was the same thing that was begging him for help.

Help her.

Ford squared his shoulders, straightened his spine, and stepped into the dining room like a man preparing for a fight.

-

Taglist: @grizzlie70 @burtlederp @finder-of-rings @theelvishcowgirl @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump @bloodinkandashes @squishablesunbeam @mj-or-say10 @apokolyps @wildfaewhump @shrimpwritings @there-will-always-be-blood @latenightcupsofcoffee @angelsproject

[chaostudee]

prologue. the things you do for the ones you love

summary : when you were asked to be your sisters maid of honour you never expected to fall in love with the best man. warnings : nothing ig? words : 1.5k a/n : this is my first series on here and i'm really excited to share it with you guys!!

it was just as you had left it. the blue shutters on the windows registered their bright brilliant hue and the unchanged silk curtains billowed in the soft morning breeze. the same abstract ornament sat on the steps leading to the front door and even now you were uncertain of its name let alone what it represented. your parents still owned the very much identical vehicles to the one you had as a child.

that thought was comforting. that nothing had changed. although when you were brought back to reality of it all everything was going to change. and it was inviteable.

"y/n!" called a voice that you had missed. your sister emily descended the steps with a fast pace that you were in fear of her falling.

"hi" you say letting out an exhale as you speak. emily smiles at your newfound presence in the drive of your childhood home.

there was an awkward moment when both of you were unsure of what to say or do next but then you felt her arms pull you close into an embrace. your arms snaked up her back to the same position where she held hers on your own. taking a deep breath in you notice something, that scent, the identical one that she used to wear all throughout high school.

you could've stayed like that forever but in remembering why you were here you pulled back and dragged her left arm forward to meet your gaze.

it shone and sparkled in the sun and just by that you knew that your future brother in law would be bringing some prosperity into the family.

"i mean....wow. it's gorgeous". emily shies away and pulls back her hand to her own control.

"you think so? i don't know maybe it's a bit flashy but you know a girl can't be picky". she admires the ring for a moment as though she has never seen it until now and this action makes you chuckle. sarcasm was something that emily had acquired from a young age right after she had begun to watch friends. your mother, throughout her teenage years had to witness the endless puns and jokes although after a long day her words were sometimes mood lifting.

"i missed that laugh"emily admits and this makes your heart warm.

"i missed you". and it was true, you had missed her. at first you were reluctant in coming back because your last visit had been over a year ago and even then it wasn't a joyous occasion with your father's degrading comments. your father hadn't always been so supportive when you had informed of your aspiration to study fashion. you guessed that was another reason that your sister desired your presence, or that you hoped.

"so....how's life? well i mean besides getting engaged and all. how is everyone?". emily nods as she takes a look down at her stained converse, whist tucking a strand of her brunette hair behind her ear.

"i mean mum is good. me and daniel have been staying here for the past weeks and yeah i mean she seems to be doing fine but i think she misses dad.".

you don't try to hide your annoyance with this. you noticeably roll your eyes remembering the countless work trips he would take that would leave your mother to her lonesome. those times you would aspire to be on your best behavior because you could see the bags under your mother's eyes from just a few hours spent with her daughters. it hurt you that your father was still pulling the same old stunts.

"he's still working?"you ask because most people at his age would be either sitting in a retirement home or perhaps on the golf course without a care in the world. your father had never been most people.

work had always come first for him. and you couldn't even understand why. maybe someday you would understand but you would never put your occupation before family.

"i ask myself the same question all the time."

"tell me about daniel".

you hadn't heard much about your sister's apparent "love of her life" according to your mother. the way you mum spoke of him made you wonder if it was possible that she loved him more than emily.

"he's great, perfect. i think he would be just your type" emily says with a straight face.

a rush of nostalgia hits you having heard those words countless times when there was a new prospect of a boyfriend. although they never seemed to last, for you anyways. emily always set you up with guys she knew or a friend of a friend and maybe if you had tried you wouldn't be single at 30 but here we are.

"are you seriously setting me up with your fiance?"

"now who said anything about setting you up?" emily gives a tight lipped smile, "just a suggestion".

"yeah but in all seriousness, he is a great guy and i'm lucky to have him". she looks down at her converse once again as she speaks and with her hair covering her face you can't tell whether her cheeks are flushed but you presumed so.

"who knew you were all soppy?".

at this emily raises her head and silently gasps and then remains with her mouth agape as if she was going to answer back.

with a blunt "shut up" she rolled her eyes but you could tell that you were right. you had always been the hopeless romantic but it looked like you had swapped. you now were not too keen on a serious relationship, not anytime soon anyway. in your opinion relationships just added to the weight that you had to carry around everyday, the worries.

"so where is daniel now?".

"him and mum are out shopping. those two are attached to the hip most of the time. weird right?"

"haha yeah weird"

"you'll meet him tonight."

"tonight?"

"yeah...tonight, you know?". jazz hands. "tooonight".

"what's tonight?

"my engagement party"

"oh shit yeah sorry. oh congratulations by the way".

"who knew you were funny?"

"i did"

"c'mon let's go inside i want to show you what i did to your room."

"about tonight....i didn't really bring-"

"i have a dress"

:::

your room was just how you had left it. the same vanity with pictures of your friends from highschool, clothes strewn across the floor and your posters on the walls. it was like you had never left.

you smile as you lift up a picture of you and emily at the beach a few years back. your smiles were wide and you both had your arms around one another. back then you didn't have a care in the world, but now you couldn't say the same.

emily comes bursting into your room with a bundle of dresses in her arms. once she sets them down on the bed she comes over and tuts when she spots the photo in your hand.

"i remember that day, we were so happy, dad had just got promoted and him and mum were over the moon-"

"we had never seen them so happy" you say interrupting her.

grabbing the picture from your grasp emily pulls you from your past.

taking you by the shoulders she says "no getting sad".

you nod giving her a small smile. she gives her own nod of approval before gesturing to the dresses she brought in.

"take your pick".

you raise your eyebrows when you pick up a dress that could hardly count as a dress.

"really?"

"what?! it's all the rage in paris right now".

you poke her in the ribs which makes her squeal.

"girl we gotta get you a man" emily states as she starts looking through the clothes herself.

"and this is the way to do it?".

"sure!".

you scoff but before you begin to throw another comment you spot something that catches your eye. the material is sparkly and glittery just like a disco ball.

"this one" you confirm.

emily turns around and gasps when she sees what you have chosen.

"perfect, who knew you had taste y/n?".

"um clearly not you"

"haha. anyways back to the boy thing".

you groan at the subject. dating had been a tough subject for you as of late. it had been less than a year since you had broken off with your toxic ex. you still held trauma from him and your sister knew this but she took this as a reason to get out more.

"i bet soms of daniels friends are single" she says, pondering as she tries to recall.

"oh actually he said that one of his friends was recently divorced.....".

"ems im not going to date a 40 year old".

she laughs at my comment. like really laughs.

"he's our age silly".

"oh".

"daniel says he hasn't been with anyone since the breakup.....just like you".

"your point?"

"you'd be a good match".

"ugh whatever."

there's a silence.

"wait what's his name?"

"oh um bu- barnes or something i dont know?".

your eyes widen. it couldn't be could it? your eyes falter to one of the pictures on the wall. you in the middle beside you neil, marrissa and....james. james barnes.

[angst-buritto-wips-writing]

X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies) WIP Dark!Charles Cherik

Charles often wondered what would have happened if he hadn’t been born with his mutation and had been unable to hide it during his early years, and had instead gained it at a later age when he would be more wary and knew to keep it hidden. Would his mother have still had him committed until he learned to hide his mutation and pretend to be normal? Would he be a better person? A worse person? Would he have met Raven under the same circumstances?

 He met Raven on his first week out of the asylum at 14, her at 8, and he manipulated the household and their minds to believe she was his sister and had lived there all her life; it had her in awe and fear at the same time, but that was replaced with hero worship when he got the story of her parents from her, and within the week, and after a trip to upstate New York, informed her that she didn’t have to worry about her parents any longer. It was no big loss, really; they were terrible people, and Charles was doing the world a favour — anyone who tried to drown their child when they found out about their gift deserved what was coming to them, in Charles’ opinion.

Now, 28 years old and watching dispassionately as the scientist, who had been experimenting on the semi-unconscious teen lying on the metal table, writhed on the floor, as his red face slowly turned purple because he had conveniently forgotten how to breathe. When the human finally went limp, brain empty and pulse no longer beating, Charles stepped over the trash and motioned at the mind he could feel coming into the room behind him.

“Did you get the files, Raven?” Charles asked his sister, not looking up from studying the restraints on the boy. They looked like they were made specifically to hold the teen — Subject H171, according to the tattoo on the teen’s arm. Charles sneered; these humans were no better than Nazis, branding anyone they deemed less-than-human with numbers, stripping their identity from them and experimenting on them.

Only a moment later, he realized there was another mind with Raven. This mind felt…it felt. 

The pain, sadness and rage, yet still with a core of aching brightness not yet snuffed pouring off this mind, had Charles salivating. Charles wanted to wrap himself in that mind and drown in its beating pulse, wanted to plant himself in it and grow roots upon roots and let it grow fruit, let seasons pass and grow a forest full of just himself and ErikErikErik. 

Turning around, hoping his face didn’t show his hunger, Charles came face to face with one of the most devastatingly handsome yet dangerous-looking men he had ever seen. 

He had the most intriguing grey-green eyes, which Charles first noticed about Erik Lehnsherr. Those eyes were haunted by whatever ghosts lay in Erik’s past, and Charles had to force himself not just to take the knowledge of what those ghosts were from Erik’s mind. 

And Erik’s mutation…it was a beautiful thing — a Ferrokinetic, how fascinating. While a gorgeous gift, it would also be incredibly useful.  

“Who’s this?” Charles asked lightly, throwing the teens arm over his shoulder and lifting him up.

Raven rolled her golden eyes at him. “As if you haven’t read his mind already, Charles. You know exactly who he is.”

Erik’s attention snapped to him, and his lips parted, looking surprised, then awed. 

“Indeed, though It’s always polite to ask, darling,” Charles conceded. 

“You can read minds?” Erik asks. Was the man always shirtless? He looked like he could use a good meal or twenty, but he was still achingly gorgeous. “Is that your curse?”

Charles frowned and narrowed his eyes, immediately seeking the memory attached to Erik’s misunderstanding of mutations. He stepped into a memory.

“Mein junge. Mein kleiner,” Herr Doktor crooned, cupping his face, “Your powers are destructive, a curse; imagine if we could make your curse work for us?”

“Du..Du hast meine Mutter getötet.” You killed my mother.

“Nein, mein kleiner, du hast sie getötet, with your curse. But I can teach you how to control the power, use all that rage towards other means, hm? The Nazis think small, Mein Junge, but I think big, ja?”

“…Ja, Herr Doktor.”

“Wunderbar.”

More flashes of the Camps and Herr Doktor Schmidtt, the experiments, the torture, pushing Erik’s power beyond its limits until he passed out for days at a time, nose and ears bleeding and eyes bloodshot with broken vessels, passed through Charles’ mind until he got to the memories of the Camps being raided and Erik being rescued, only for his power to be discovered and Erik being sent into the nearest American government lab, then another, and another, for years, until a gloriously blue woman in a short skimpy leather outfit burst through the doors of the operating room where they were about to amputate his hands to see if that would affect his control over his power, and killed the surgeons and the Doktor’s with a flash of blue hands and feet.

Blinking, Charles took a moment to control his rage, unwilling to accidentally hurt his sister or the two mutants in the room by letting them feel the full force of his anger. Judging by Erik’s flinch, though,  he was unable to hide the rage that showed on his face. 

“Oh, my friend, I am not angry at you; I am angry at everyone who hurt you and this boy, Those humans who told you that your gift was a curse. You are not alone, Erik.” Charles smiled at the man. “You are not alone, and you are not cursed.”  

Charles hadn’t even noticed he had moved to stand close to Erik or that he had reached out to cup the older man’s cheeks between his palms, not until he felt the aborted sob that Erik let out at Charles’ words.  

[ohsunnyboy]

zerobase1 and how they play genshin | zb1

WHALE | META | CASUAL | NOT A GAMER

TAGS: headcannons, crack-ish, lowercase intended

A/N: as a genshin player and zb1 enjoyer, i own a wealth of knowledge. if you don't know what i'm referencing or talking about then i'm sorry lmao i get rly into genshin

WORDS: ~600 (~100 each)

WHALES 🐋

GYUVIN - ok puppy dog has no spending sense and would swipe swipe swipe until he got the character. or somehow get his account robbed and card details stolen. wouldn't swipe for c6 on characters but would swipe for all the skins.

plot goes soaring over his head. though, he'd get 100% completion completely on accident bc he runs from chest to chest completing everything bc ooh shiny. (it's what i do)

definitely hops across different coop worlds to be an absolute menace. steals all your starconches, beatles and cor lapis and leaves.

a whale so team comp doesn't quite matter, but i feel like cool burst animation is a must.

RICKY - need i explain? he doesn't even play the game often, he just sees a cool looking character and swipes. feels like he would c6r5 a character if he really liked them. would get surprisingly into event content just for the exclusive items etc. cares mildly about the plot and zero for the exploration.

would play cool and pretty characters bc when you're a whale, team composition just doesn't matter.

META 🎮

MATTHEW - a confirmed nerd by his sister so you bet he's an enthusiast. pays attention to kqm, twitter and future patch leaks. grinds out for the spiral abyss and has op asf team combos. would spend but only if he knows it's worth it.

enjoys the plot and characters, but not massive on exploration. still enjoys all the characters thoroughly and knows more lore tidbits than most. is the sweetest coop friend.

GUNWOOK - okokok he'd be apprehensive at first until he pulls like c5 benny and a eula then the world of dps (damage per screenshot) awakens. fights wars in the trenches of the honeyhunterworld comments section. stays updated and dips in and out of the game.

secretly stays about for plot. finds exploration boring but can admit it's pretty. the dude who refuses to swap characters when doing coop domains. does a boss blitz when bored.

CASUALS 💫

HANBIN - ok only got it bc the kids said he should. (gyuvin uses him to get the coop achievements) actually ended up staying bc wow everything is gorgeous, the plot is engaging and the characters have depth! and it's all free ?? goes about it at a decent pace, doesn't do spiral often, just finishing floor 10.

tcg enjoyer and event player.

ZHANG HAO - TEAPOT MAIN god yeah hella into the teapot. only completes the story and everything for the teapot. comes on sometimes to help hanbin out or bc someone else needs mats from his world. has a solid overworld team for collecting mats etc.

mildly enjoys the plot but exploration is where it's at.

NOT A GAMER 🌱

JIWOONG - only got it bc everyone else did, found out it took too much space on his phone, deleted it. tried playing it on gunwook's pc but had to play zhongli with his shield up 24/7 bc mechanics are hard okay! does see it as pretty and that yeah some characters are worth spending money for but there are better ways to find enjoyment in life.

TAERAE - doesn't mind it. he just doesn't see the hype over online characters. if and when he does play, it's on someone else's account and on the tcg. man loves the tcg, making decks and sweeping the floor with everyone.

has insane pull luck.

YUJIN - hmmm he sorta thinks it's cringe but gyuvin makes him play it. defo a valorant kid. tried to make a gun didn't work. plot doesn't matter much to him, interested in some character backstory but dips out when it comes to exploring. yujin defo thinks childe, xiao and alhaitham are cool. paimon gets on his nerves the most.

i had lots of fun doing this so i hope you enjoyed ! leave a like or reblog if you did :) ⭒ masterlist

[sotwk]

Can I ask what inspired you to write about Legolas having other siblings?

Superficial yet honest answer: Because it means getting more Elves that resemble both Legolas and Thranduil, and that means you get a gorgeous lineup of characters that look like THIS:

(Please click/zoom to enlarge)

L-R: Prince Turhir, Prince Gelir, Crown Prince Mirion, Prince Arvellas, Prince Legolas

Now for a more thorough, meaningful answer...

What inspired the "Sons of the Woodland King" (SotWK) AU, the core premise of which is that Legolas had brothers?

It started as a roleplay concept, back in 2004 (I think? It was so long ago!), when I first started dabbling in LOTR fanfiction not long after the release of RotK.

Because roleplaying games typically encourage the creation of original characters, I suppose it just occurred to me that having multiple Princes of the Woodland Realm would make for an interesting setting and premise centered around the Elves of Mirkwood.

Believe it or not, I had not even read The Hobbit at that point, and it was prior to PJ's film adaptation, so inspiration did not come from Lee Pace's magnificent portrayal of Thranduil--though it certainly turbo-fueled ideas later on!

SotWK back then was quite a silly, shallow game focused primarily on fluffy romance and shipping, without much direction, canon authenticity, or detail. I still have some old copies of the stuff I wrote from that era; they are definitely cringe and I don't care to share them again, ever. LOL.

Fast-forward to 2014, when The Hobbit Trilogy came out. I returned briefly to the Tolkien fandom and the SotWK concept, and dropped a few chapters of "Greenleaf's Day Out", only to pause it halfway, unfinished (because I got distracted when I met the man who would then become my husband...and life happened).

Fast forward again to 2022: A husband and two babies later, in need of a hobby I can squeeze in between the hectic activities of motherhood/adulting, I returned to fanfiction writing and wound up coming to Tumblr to share it. Finally equipped with book knowledge from LOTR, Hobbit, AND the Silmarillion, I completed "Greenleaf's Day Out", my first (and so far only) Thranduilion-focused story, and decided I wanted to keep writing and sharing more.

Why the Thranduilion Princes, brotherhood, and family-centered stories hold such a dear place in my heart:

I grew up as one of three sisters, and just one brother whom I love but never really had a close relationship with. I guess with boys being few in our family (even amongst my cousins), I didn't have a lot of interaction with them growing up, and it led to a fascination and fondness for brotherhood stories.

As most of my followers know by now, I'm a mom with two sons of my own. The birth of my second son coincided with my return to fanfic writing and the Tolkien fandom, so surely life with my young family influenced the decision to focus on the SotWK concept.

I think Thranduil is an AMAZING character with a fascinating yet underdeveloped history. I enjoy creating stories about his background as a king, a lover/husband, and a father, but I love most of all his role as a father both to his biological sons and the citizens/subjects he views as his children.

Thank you for this wonderful Ask @a-world-of-whimsy-5, and giving me the opportunity to share my writing history! <3

[feralkwe]

whenever you're ready: what the FUCK did Terry Goodkind do to you 😭😭

*cracks knuckles*

hoo boy. are you ready? because the things i am about to say are objective fact and not up for dispute. some of them are mean, but rest assured i mean every word.

terry goodkind created a sweeping and gorgeous world full of magic, ruled by incredible, complex, powerful women. some of the women remain to this day some of my favorite characters in all of fiction. the confessors could compel the truth with a power based in utter love. the mord-sith, could turn pain into power, making them fierce warriors (first antagonists, later allies). sisters of the light, powerful sorceresses who train young wizards and protect sacred prophecies, and their evil counterparts, sisters of the dark. it's just layered with so many amazing women. good. evil. everything in between.

and then he shits all over them.

he brutalizes them with all sorts of sexual abuse. the second book features an evil wizard who uses nipple magic to defile and control women who he deems impure. it's implied, if not outright stated, that the mord-sith are all sexually abused. in book three, kahlan amnell, the mother confessor, is forced to marry and sleep with a man who is not richard, and then richard spends forever punishing her for it, even though it was against her will. he kills one of the only two lesbians in the series, which was my first "bury your gays" experience. richard has a sister who is "pristinely ungifted" (immune to all magic, which i ate up with a fucking spoon as a concept) and she, too, was manipulated and brutalized to further richard's narrative. nicci becomes the most powerful sorceress in the entire world, but spends most of the story being abused, sexually and physically, and the rest in unrequited love with richard in the most egregiously shitty love triangle ever. the last two books are just brutalization porn, detailing every horrific way kahlan is beaten and tortured. every single powerful woman is brought violently down, often through rape. always through violence.

and as if this wasn't bad enough, the entire series is a libertarian allegory. it's not subtle. it's filled with self-aggrandizing conservative-lite morals entrenched in purity bullshit. goodkind was a huge fan of ayn rand, and his penchant for writing richard giving three page monologues that could have all been summed up as "hey idiots, i am right and you are wrong" demonstrate that with astonishing deftness. magic becomes some metaphor for everything that is wrong with the world and society in the clumsiest way possible, until the world must literally be split in two in order to create a libertarian non-magical utopia.

if that wasn't enough, he was so insufferable about everything. he created a rich and detailed fantasy world then constant bemoaned being called a fantasy author. he felt it was beneath him and his talents. he remained pretentious about speculative fiction while profiting from it.

oh, he also famously threw a massive tantrum about one of his later book covers, insulting the cover artist openly and publicly. if you know anything about publishing, you know that authors getting any input over their cover is a huge privilege. so he was a massive asshole, too.

never in my life have i had such a complex relationship with a book series. it has so many spectacular things going for it, but goodkind couldn't step off his own dick. he took himself way too seriously, overused lazy tropes (richard was the most powerful wizard ever but only ever used his powers at the most convenient moment when only a deus ex could save his hole-ridden plot), and can't write a sympathetic protagonist to save his life. idk how you write such amazing women while obviously having disdain for them. some kind of asshole magic, i guess.

anyway, this just scratches the surface. any single thing here would be annoying on its own, and combined it is just exhausting. idk how i suffered through the whole series apart from my commitment to these characters i loved despite his every effort to make the rest of the story unbearable. my one life's regret is that he died never knowing what a hack i think he was. he probably wouldn't have cared because obviously i am inferior to him in every way, but i lament he will never know.

anyway, fuck him.