#vengeance is mine by sentenced

[juustozzi]

what do you think about the go raimon team finding out tenma listens to rock and metal music (tenma liking rock and metal + him knowing how to play the bass is a personal headcanon of mine)

oooh that's a headcanon I might steal for mysef too- really like the unexpected music taste based on his overall demeanor :D

I think the team would be pretty surprised, but some of them would get interested and dip in too, like shinsuke and hayami probably? but learning he can play would be pretty impressive to everyone!

(imagine that the vid has a muffled effect like the music is playing from the headphones)

[thebest-medicine]

could you do 104 “What, did you think you were just going to get away with that?” with switch!kaminari and bakugou :)

Explosively Ticklish [part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [part 5] [part 6]

Prompt 104 - "What, did you think you were just going to get away with that?"

A/N: [part 1] a continuation (see above) featuring Bakugo’s revenge on Kaminari (for the switch / ler kami stuff you’ll have to check out part 1! he’s all lee all the time here baby) also under a cut bc she got long lol OOPS 1k words 🤷‍♀️ continued here [part 3]

…

“Oi! Idiot!” Bakugo’s voice comes from behind the door, accompanying a quick but hard knock. “Open up.”

Kaminari walks over and opens the door to his dorm hesitantly, just a crack. It had only been a few hours since he and the others had put their friend through the very-embarrassing wringer. “What’s uuuuuup, buddy?” He smiles anxiously.

Bakugo stares at him. “Can I come in?”

Denki stutters, “uh- sure- what, uh, what do you need?”

Bakugo stares at him again, deadpan. “Isn’t it obvious?”

Kaminari shakes his head.

Bakugo huffs out a laugh. “Okay. You’re either really an idiot or just naive. Wanna do this in the privacy of your room? Or do I have to drag your ass out into the hallway?”

“D-Do what?” Kaminari flinches.

“You really are stupid, aren’t you?” Bakugo asks as he shoves the door the rest of the way open and reaches out to grab at Denki’s waist.

“YeeEEK!” He jumps back from his spot. “Wait- wait- you’re not gonna-?”

Bakugo scoff-laughs. “What? Did you think you were just going to get away with that?”

“Kihihihinda!” Kaminari is giggling already, scrambling out of his reach and backing up to his bed, then crawling backwards across the surface of his mattress. “Nohoho please- Bakugo- don’t! I cahahan’t! I- hehe- I’ll zahahahahap you!”

“Yeah?” Bakugo glares. “Try that and I’ll kill you for real.”

“Nohohohohot a threat!” Kaminari squeaks, putting as much space as possible between himself and Katsuki. “I can’t hehehehehelp it!”

“Oh really?” Katuski smirks, picking up his charm. “Can’t help but explode with giggles, huh, dunce face?”

Kaminari shakes his head, snickering wildly. He flails his hands about uselessly as Bakugo stalks closer.

“And then what happens after, hmm? Fry your stupid little brain and you just get even gigglier I bet.”

“Stahahahahop!” Kaminari wails, already laughing.

Bakugo puts a knee on the bed. “I’m not even tickling you yet, idiot, and you’re laughing already? You’re fucking doomed.”

Kaminari shrieks at that and tries to lunge off the other side of the mattress. Only, Bakugo grabs his calves easily and then wraps his legs up in the crook of one arm. He is halfway off the bed, giggling madly and flailing his arms about. “NonononoNO WAIT!” He cries. “Lemmego!”

Bakugo laughs wickedly, tugging his friend a bit more so that his back is on the edge of the mattress, stretching his torso across the corner of the bed and leaving him open. Denki’s shirt has bunched up in the tussle, and he keeps trying to desperately tug it down (up?) while pleading with Bakugo. “Plehehehehehease! Dohohohon’t!” He cries, giggling. His cheeks are rosy with embarrassed anticipation.

“Not a fucking chance. Got your ass right where I want you.”

He starts to scribble over Denki’s scrunched soles, making the other student gasp and start laughing even louder. Grumbling about his damn toes getting in the way, Bakugo moves to spider over the tops of his feet, earning him a squeal. He tugs again, this time readjusting and targeting his electric friend’s knees. There’s no sign of frying yet.

Kaminari shrieks with laughter. “Plehehe- HEHEHEASE! Not there! Not there! Nohohoho Bakugohohohohohho STAHAHAHAHOP! I cahahahan’t!” He pleads as fingers pinch up along his thighs. He’s quaking, his arms flailing about. He tries to sit up and throw his arms in a way of defense, but Bakugo just pushes him back down easily each time with a little chuckle of his own.

“Don’t know why you crossed me if you’re this ticklish, moron.” Katsuki continues. He readjusts Kaminari’s legs down, sitting over his shins and keeping him pinned halfway off the bed. He peaks down at his friend, red in the face and grinning wildly, wide-eyed. Bakugo smirks. He brings both hands down slowly, wiggling in menacing claws descending upon Denki’s partially exposed and fully stretched tummy.

“Don’t don’t don’t DOHOHON’T!” Denki cries, scrambling to get a grip anywhere or pull himself upright. His attempt fizzles to nothing but quaking laughter as Bakugo’s hands shoot down to scribble and spider against the skin of his stomach. They crawl up further under his shirt, pinch his sides, walk up to his ribs. Kaminari is lost to laughter, pleasing incoherently, when suddenly, the hair on Bakugo’s neck stands on end before…

ZZZZZAP!!!

Bakugo realizes he’s been knocked backwards onto the bed, but still conscious. His arms are a little tingly, he rubs his neck. “Idiot! You coulda killed me!” He grumbles, getting back up. Kaminari has slunked down, his back against the floor and his feet in the air. His eyes are big and empty, his grin wobbly as he gives Bakugo a thumbs up and laughs sweetly.

“I wasn’t done with you yet, but this should make things a little easier.” He notes before reaching for Kaminari’s ankles and hauling him back halfway up on the bed. What could he say? It was a great position to tickle someone in.

“EHEHEHEHEHEHEHEEE! WahahahahHAHAHA-” Denki squeaks and giggles and Bakugo tickles his midsection anew, this time watching for any signs of sparks. He scratches over and over at the line under Denki’s bellybutton, just over and around the ticklish, exposed spots on his lower stomach. Every spot from hip to hip sends him careening into laughter.

Bakugo takes another peak down and sees tears of laughter in Denki’s empty-minded eyes. He pauses his tickling for a moment and watches as Kaminari attempts uselessly to catch his breath.

“Alllllllll right, I think you’ve had enough for now.” Bakugo slides off of his legs.

“Haaaa- ahh.” Kaminari’s eyes roll back as his head drops against the ground. He gives a serendipitous thumbs up with a goofy, out-of-it laugh as he slinks down slowly so his full upper body is on the floor again; finally it stays there.

“So that was one… there were 5 of you guys before, right?” Bakugo mentions, pushing his friend’s legs down next to him on the ground “So that means, four more times to go. I’ll be seein’ ya, Pikachu.”

“Ahhh?” Kaminari makes a confused sound as Bakugo stands and exits the room, leaving his electrified friend to recover his spirits in a half-ball on the floor, alone.

Katsuki has a busy schedule ahead of him, after all.

…

[more sentence starter fic prompts]

[other sentence starter fics]

[read this & further MHA drabbles on ao3]

[sunny12th]

thinking about how jaime will react to young griff and dany. maybe it's a chance to make things right, he was supposed to protect rhaegar's children and he never protected rhaella from her husband. jaime telling dany about her mom, what she was like, what her life was like. he'd be brutally honest but dany needs someone like that. jaime telling young griff about rhaegar, about aerys, about how he thought elia and the kids would be safe, about how everything went wrong. about seeing two small bodies wrapped in crimson cloaks. jaime refusing to apologize for killing aerys. trying to apologize, and likely failing, for not protecting rhaella from aerys. maybe jaime wouldn't even try to apologize and those suicidal tendencies will come through yet again and he'll try to goad the last dragons into executing him. he's the last living monster that destroyed their lives but, after meeting him, maybe they won't see a monster. just a broken thing.

[monstrous-woof]

✧ on repeat tag ✧

rules: shuffle your ‘on repeat’ playlist & post the first ten tracks, then tag people

The Fire by Griffinilla

The Vampire by Solace and Fury

Pierce by 6XT7

Fight Fire with Gasoline by Self Deception

The Devil Inside by Des Rocs

A Villain's Monologue by Blood Command

God Complex by VIOLENT VIRA

Deathless by Lord of the Lost

Auf Wiedersehen Boy by Zeromancer

House of Wolves by SadSongsOnly (cover)

tagged by @famewolf

idk who to tag so if you see this then tag youre it!

[lovebugism]

eddie x shy!reader , she asks him on a date by giving him tickets to a concert and he thinks its a joke til she walks away feeling rejected & he realizes she’s like dead serious & goes up to her

thanks for your request! i sorta broke my own heart with this one — the one where eddie rejects you and immediately regrets it (shy!reader, hurt/comfort, 2.6k)

bug's summer fic fest ♡

Robin tells you that he’s nice. She says he won’t turn you down because he loves Mötley Crüe too much and he’s called you pretty too many times. Robin Buckley is many things — a dork, a polyglot, and your best friend, to name a few — but she’s never been a liar.

She wouldn’t lead you to the slaughter that way. She wouldn’t just let you get your heart broken. More than anything, though, she knows Eddie far better than you do — partly because she’s actually able to talk to him.

So despite your lingering worry, you swallow her words like a shot of vodka and maneuver helplessly through the bustling crowd of the Hawkins High lunchroom.

Eddie Munson sits alone at the Hellfire Club table — the smallest one in the very back corner by the large square window. 

Instead of eating a real meal (even though the hamburgers might be horse meat instead of cow), the boy eats crumbled-up pretzels from a worn ziplock bag. He pinches them into his mouth blindly because his chocolate syrup gaze is trained on the well-loved book folded in his left hand. 

J.R.R Tolkien’s, The Hobbit.

It makes you smile softly to yourself. You hope one day you’ll have the courage to tell him you’ve read that book so many times you could recite it in your sleep. You hope that day comes soon.

“Eddie?” you call softly to him when you reach his table. Your sweaty fingers fidget with the concert tickets you clutch between them.

He just thinks he hears his name at first. It’s barely audible over the sounds of muddled chatter in the cafeteria. He glances up from his book, not expecting anyone to be there, and gaping when he finds you standing in front of him. 

His cinnamon eyes go wide. The boy blinks owlishly at you once, then flits his eyes behind you like he’s expecting to see someone there. When he doesn’t, he blinks at you again. 

“Hi…” you waver with a trembling smile.

Eddie grins back, still obviously confused. “…Hi?”

“I, uh… I don’t know if you heard, but— well, obviously you heard, that’s… that’s stupid,” you laugh at yourself, shaking your head with your eyes squeezed shut. You’re already stumbling all over yourself, and you haven’t even managed a full sentence yet.

“Mötley Crüe is coming to Indianapolis in a few days, and a friend of mine was selling tickets, so I bought them. For us. Potentially. You know, if you wanted to… to go… With me.”

Your offer lingers and hangs in the air between the two of you.

A smile quirks at the right side of Eddie’s pink mouth. It isn’t a kind one, though. It looks more cynical than anything else.

His head juts back. He’s almost peering at you from the corner of his eye as though you were some suspicious thing he needed to analyze. A laugh sputters from his lips. “Did Buckley put you up to this? Is that what this is?”

Your faltering smile fades entirely. Your features crumble in disappointment.

This worse he could say is no, Robin had told you. 

You hadn’t prepared yourself for this.

“…What?” you wonder, voice fragile like a wilting flower petal.

Eddie chuckles to himself. He sets the book down to give you his full attention, though you’re not sure you want it anymore. “You know, I knew she was upset about me trying to set her up with Vickie and all, but this is a… whole new low.”

“Vickie…?” you murmur through a tightening throat, brows pinched in confusion. “I don’t understand—”

“Look, sweetheart… Tell Robin that this was a real funny joke, but I’m not interested, alright?”

Your chest aches with an empty feeling. You think your heart might be breaking. “J—Joke?”

“—Actually, tell her that this was very not metal of her, and that I will get my vengeance,” Eddie says with a sardonic laugh deeply rooted in his chest. His smile looks almost like he pities you as he shakes his head, eyes twinkling with pessimism. “I’m sorry she sent you to do her dirty work, but… You should probably go now. This is, you know, the Hellfire Club table and everything, so…”

You swallow thickly, then nod.

Eddie doesn’t want you here. Eddie doesn’t want you at all.

“I’m— I’m sorry if I…” The words get caught in your throat. You clear it and blink back burning tears. “I was just… I thought that maybe—”

“Eddie!” a boyish voice calls from across the cafeteria, only halfway drowned out through all the noise. A group of guys in Hellfire shirts walk towards the table.

You take that as your cue to leave. You don’t want to burst into tears in front of your crush and all of his friends.

“I’m sorry,” is all you manage to choke out before turning on your heel and walking away.

He’d been smiling up until that point — like it was all a big joke to him — because it was. 

The girl he’s been fawning over since junior year comes out of nowhere with tickets to see one of his favorite bands? That was the kind of shit he dreamt about — the kind of plan only someone as vicious as Robin Buckley could concoct to hurt his feelings. And after spending so many years being the brunt of bullies, Eddie was tired of being embarrassed.

And at first, he thought you were just a really good actor. You did look almost genuinely confused when he’d snuffed out the plan so quickly. But those wide, glassy eyes you looked at him with — he doesn’t know if a person can fake that sort of heartbreak. That looked real.

Eddie had been close to commending himself for not letting Robin win. He thought he was a genius for not allowing Buckley to use you against him. Now he knows he’s the same dumbass he's always been.

“Hey, man…” Gareth wavers as he sits at his designated seat adjacent to Eddie’s. The boy’s forlorn and faraway gaze doesn’t go unnoticed by the rest of the club. They all share looks of confusion, but the sandy-haired boy is the only one brave enough to speak up. “You okay?”

Eddie keeps his gaze trained on your figure as you maneuver through the crowd. Robin looks happy for you when you reach her, but the puppy-like excitement washes away when she notices how sad you are. 

He feels like someone’s shoved a knife between his ribcage. He wonders if this is what a broken heart feels like.

“I think I screwed up,” he answers, laughing cynically at himself. “Like, big time.”

“Well, it wouldn’t be the first time, right?” Dustin jokes before popping a fry into his mouth. He laughs, but no one else joins him. “…Right?”

Eddie glares at the boy.

He cowers. “…Kidding. I was kidding.”

—————

He stews over it all day — your offer and what he said to you and how sad you looked after he said it. 

He pictures your pinched brows and big, glassy eyes and his chest starts to burn a little. Everyone always thought he was some raging asshole just because he had crazy hair and a crazier taste in music. Now he feels like they were sort of right about him. 

Whatever chance he had with you has surely turned to dust by now. It wouldn’t surprise him after he shrugged you off like he did. But after waging a nearly four-hour war in his mind between lunch and dismissal, he knows he has to make sure. 

He has to know if he’s ruined things entirely or if there’s a glimmer of hope he can hang onto.

He comes to you at the end of the day, dripping in metaphorical blood from the mental carnage he’d endured. He stood across the hall from you for five whole minutes as he tried to come up with something to say. He walks to your locker empty-handed and just blurts, “I thought you were joking,” like a total idiot.

Through the muddled conversation in the bustling hallway, you hadn’t heard him coming. You didn’t know he was there at all until he was right next to you. Seeing someone so suddenly close to you makes you flinch — hard.

And it’s not totally Eddie’s fault. You’re jumpy and too easily frightened at times, but he can’t help but feel like he’s messing things up more than he already has.

“Oh…” you deflate with a sigh, eyes still wide and swimming with something he can’t quite place. You look like you’re almost relieved to see him. Almost. 

“Sorry— shit, sorry. I didn’t mean to…” The boy stumbles over his words, then trails off when they don’t come out the way he wants. He shakes his head and finds it in himself to smile. It’s bitter, though, filled with self-abhorrence. “I wasn’t trying to scare you.”

With one hand still clutching the door of your locker, and the other gripping a stack of textbooks, you peer at him through your lashes. “I know. It’s okay. I just— I wasn’t expecting it…”

He grimaces. “Sorry…”

“’S okay,” you repeat.

“I, um, I only came in so hot ‘cause I wanted to apologize— you know, for earlier. In the lunch room,” he stammers and puts his fidgeting hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. He tries to laugh, but it comes out more as an insincere puff of air. “Honestly, I thought you were joking.”

Your brows pinch. “Joking? Why would I—”

“I sorta locked Robin and Vickie in the old chemistry room in the east wing a few days ago,” he confesses, bouncing his shoulders. “Just because I know they both like each other and everything, and I thought maybe they’d finally admit it if they were alone together.”

“Okay…?” 

“Well, they didn’t. And Robin was pissed. So I thought she was using you to get back at me.”

“Using me?” you echo.

“Yeah. ‘Cause I’ve kinda been into you since junior year and everything,” he admits with a nonchalant shrug. The corner of his rosy mouth quirks into a half-smile. “It’s, like, the one card Robin could use against me that would actually hurt, you know? If she did try to get me back.”

Your heart swells so much it hurts, almost — the same kind of hurt you'd felt in the lunch room earlier. It feels fiery, like someone’s taken a match to your ribcage and lit your heart aglow. But it’s different now. This is a good hurt, a happy hurt.

“Really?” you squint at him, your voice high and light. Your lips twitch like you want to smile, but you don’t let yourself — lest this all turns out to be some kind of elaborate dream. Or a joke.

“Since we had Mr. Kaminsky’s together, yeah,” Eddie affirms with a slow, confident nod. His chocolate eyes flit up to the water-stained ceiling. “Let’s see… We were learning about reproduction, and Tommy Hagan made some stupid joke about using you as a real-life model instead of the pictures in the textbook—”

“I remember,” you nod, trying not to shudder at the memory that still haunts you. 

“And I told him that he was making it real obvious that he’s never seen an actual vagina before and that the one in the textbook looked a lot like his mom’s,” the boy recalls with a soft laugh. “And you looked over at me, and you smiled, and I… have been a goner ever since.”

He looks down at you again, all sheepish like he isn’t gluing your broken heart back together again. His chocolate eyes twinkle in a way you’ve never seen before. They sparkle in their softness. You have to look away before it turns you into a puddle at his feet. 

You smile widely into your locker, pursing it off to the side in attempts to conceal its brightness. 

“No one’s ever stuck up for me like that before,” you confess quietly after a few moments, peeking at him from the corner of your eye. “I’m pretty sure I gushed to Robin about it for days.”

“Yeah?” Eddie hums. He can feel his hopes getting too high.

“Yeah. I told her all about the pretty boy in the back of the room that finally got Tommy H. to leave me alone.”

“Oh… You think he’s pretty, huh?” the boy teases despite his pink cheeks.

You nod — made much braver by his previous admission — though you still have a little trouble looking him in the eye. You drag a notebook from your locker as you tell him, “I think he’s very pretty.”

“Well, I have it on good authority that the boy you think is pretty is super sorry for being such an asshole to you earlier,” Eddie murmurs, his nose scrunched and head tilted. “And that he’d really love to go to that concert with you— if you haven’t found some other schmuck to go with you, that is.”

Your eyes light up like a Christmas tree as you beam at him. No one’s ever looked at him that way before now.

“I’d like that,” you nod, then shrug. “I don’t think I’d wanna go with anyone else, anyway…”

“So, it’s a date?” Eddie asks, just to make sure. His raised brows disappear behind his fluffy bangs. His chin tilts to his chest as he smiles hopefully down at you.

You nod, and repeat it more softly than the loudmouth boy. “It’s a date.”

Eddie can feel himself grinning like an idiot. His cheeks ache with how wide he’s beaming at you, but he's too lovesick to stop. Like squinting into the sun, smiling every time he looks at you is muscle memory by now. 

And what did a freak like him ever do to deserve a date with the freakin’ sun?

[charlesslut16]

-mine-

summary : Max and you talked, so charles got jealous...

PAIRING : charles leclerc x fem!reader

WARNINGS : +18. SMUT, oral(female receiving), dirty talk, badly translated french and italian, curse words, unprotected sex (be safe!)

masterlist 

You were standing in the Red Bull racing garage speaking with Daniel, Christian and max. Charles had just gotten a DNF, while Max was the first one on the podium.

Charles stormed into the Red Bull garage, said hello to the three of them and got a hold of your wrist, so he could pull you with him into his driver's room. Once you both were in his room and stood in front of him. 

"Vous a-t-il touché?" he said in a low growl. Approaching you like a predator catching his prey.  His eyes were a storm. His face was touched with... violence. Did he touch you?

" Pourquoi la merde vous en soucie-t-elle?" You snapped, not getting why he was suddenly so interested in your love life. He was close enough to fill your senses with his scent. Why the fuck do you care?

"Answer my fucking question, mia cara." charles snapped back. 

"And what if he did?" You were playing with fucking fire, you knew it, but you couldn't seem to stop challenging him.

His hands were trembling when they reached for you. You sucked in a sharp breath when his hot skin touched you around his neck very lightly. His breath hit your lips when he dangerously deep said :

"Then he will be a dead man at the end of the day. I'm going to repeat this question for the very last time, ma jolie fille. DID. HE. PUT. HIS. HAND. ON. YOU?"

You narrowed your eyes at him, anger vibrated in your veins. Only through clenched teeth, you managed to say, "Not yet. But that doesn't mean-" his mouth crashed onto yours, stopping you from forming, your sentence any further.

You wanted to push him away. You wanted to pull him closer. Not only that, but you wanted to taste every part of his body. You bit your lip. You could taste his blood on his tongue when he pushed it right in to your mouth.

Having you breathless all over again. It looked like he was forcing himself to pull away from you. Like you were acid that he didn't want to touch when he lowly said through heavy breaths.

"S’il vous a touché ce qui vous semble, ce qui a du goût et qui ressemble au mien, il sera un homme mort, vengeur. Vous détenez le pouvoir sur sa vie. Décidé si vous vouliez le gaspiller ou non." If he touched you what feels, tastes and looks like mine, he'll be a dead man, vengeance. You hold the power over his life. Decided if you wanted to waste it or not.

"I'm not yours"

"And that's where you are very wrong, mia cara" charles answered before he took both of your wrist over your head and pushed you against the wall of charles drivers' room.

You looked at him speechless. You wanted to tell him to fuck him self, but no words came out of your mouth. Every ounce of self-control left your body as you saw the look in his eyes. Full of lust and anger.

"Vous n’avez pas une grande gueule maintenant, n’est-ce pas?" You do not have a big mouth now, do you?

Before you could say something, he kissed you, putting one of his on your face and the other hand on your waist, pulling you closer to him, so you couldn't get away.

Without breaking the kiss, he pulled the straps of your dress down and pulled it down fully, so you were only standing in front of him in your panties, bra and high heels. Charles broke the kiss and looked you up and down and said :

"Tu fais vraiment comme si tu étais fait pour moi. Seulement moi." You truly do like you were made for me. Only me.

He pulled you against him again, so he could pull you to his couch and push you on it. As you laid on the bed, Charles crawled over you and kissed you again, while he opened your bra and threw it on the floor.

"Charles please"

"Use your word, mon amour"

"Please... Please fuck me..."

"I think you need a punishment, for nearly letting him touch you."

Charles answered as he pulled your panties down, threw them away, looked you up and down, now fully naked, and pulled you a bit down, so your feet were dangling off the couch.

He kneeled before the couch and kissed your thighs up until your pussy came into his view. He looked at your face for consent and thrusted one finger in your pussy.

You moaned as he thrusted another finger in your pussy and then another, until you were on the edge of cumming on his fingers, but charles pulled his fingers out of you and licked them clean.

"Charles, no... Please don't stop."

"You deserve it, mia cara"

Charles then pushed his fingers into you gain, until you were on the urge to cumming again, as he pulled his fingers out again. He did this for so long until you were overstimulated.

"I think you learned your lesson to never let anyone other than me touch you. Never"

As he said that, he unbuttoned his race suit, until it laid on the floor. Charles pulled you up a bit and crawled over you. He grabbed his cock and then thrusted into your pussy.

He didn't give you any adjustment time, as he thursted into you fast and full of lust. Not only that, but he grabbed your throat with one hand and gave it a light squeeze, while the other hand held you down, so you didn't get away.

"Tu ne t’évades pas, bébé. Vous prendrez tout ce que je donne." You don't get away, baby. You will take everything I give. 

"Tu étais faite pour moi, ma princesse, n’est-ce pas ? Tout à moi pour maintenant et toujours." you were made for me, my princess, weren't you? All mine for now and always.

After a bit, his thrust got slower and sloppier, which gave you the signal that he was near cumming.  You felt the familiar knot inside your stomach. He put his hand on your stomach.

"You feel me here, don't you, princess. Deep in your stomach."

You only nodded at him, as he came deep inside you with a moan. You did the same, you came around his cock with a loud pornographic moan. He stayed a bit inside you until he pulled out of you.

"Alors, qu’est-ce que c’était que de ne pas être à moi?" So what was that about not being mine? 

[lya-dustin]

Vengeance is Mine

For @maidmerrymint

Very loosely based on Pasión the telenovela by Televisa and will be a series

Technically oc but written as a reader's pov

Cw: death, drama, pirate au, manipulation, revenge

7/17/24: so i know i said this would be a series but idk its just not letting me continue it. Probably because Aemond is no Ricardo de Salamanca and I don't really like damsels in distress. If one of yall wants to finish or make something with it, feel free to ask.

He is not the boy he was four years ago.

Aemond had lost control of Vhagar, and she had eaten Lucerys Velaryon over Shipwreck Bay and began the bloodiest war since the Conquest. In the ensuing chaos Aegon was killed by Rhaenys at Rook’s Rest and Aemond banished from Westeros on the penalty of death.

It was only because of you that he was spared his life.

Vhagar had not survived long after Aemond the Kinslayer proved his mettle as mercenary and led him to be forced into joining a pirate’s crew to survive. Now he was the Valyrian, Captain of the Mother’s Sorrows.

His mother blames you for their misfortunes most of all.

Had you not existed Ormund Hightower wouldn’t have betrayed them, had you not existed he would have Vhagar and burn down her enemies to something lower than ash and Aegon would still be alive as King. You had no child from Lyonel Hightower even as his stepmother whelped bastard after bastard, mother claims you have poisoned your own womb to ensure Jacaerys became king.

Alicent’s anger had turned to madness from the grief, he had seen. Though he could not blame his mother for losing her sanity after seeing her father and son’s heads be paraded about the city with her in chains of gold behind them.

She was dying, Helaena had written days ago.

Winter Fever had swept into Westeros and just when it seemed to have died down, Mother had contracted it from her Septas in the motherhouse by the sea she has been locked in since Aegon’s reign fell before its six-moon mark.

Aemond knows it is a death sentence for him to see her, but he just needed to see her. just once more to say goodbye.

And he does, the Matron of the motherhouse smuggles him in as Osferthe, a dragonseed turned Septon, in case anyone catches a glimpse of his silvery hair.

“My son! my sweet boy, have you come to me at last?” His mother is drenched in sweat, skin flushed with fever and despite the ice in her bath, she is hot as dragon’s breath.

“Yes, mother, I have come to see you. You are on your fourth day and all will be well again,” he swallows back the grief of knowing she will not live to see the dusk turn to day outside of her window.

She is kept as a lady of her status; Rhaenyra had not been the tyrant he had been told she’d be after Luke took his eye. She is wary of them but has not handed them to the executioners or the confessors.

Helaena is happy with her husband who dotes on her three children as if they were his and has a daughter, little Daenaera, who their mother has gone as far as to call a bastard. Daeron, their brother, had wed Rhaena of Pentos after being knighted by Rhaenyra a king would have done. They had fared well, better than him in any case.

“My sweet boy, do not lie to me. I know it won’t be long before I join my mother and father and your sweet brother in the seven heavens.” She tries to reach out to touch him beyond the thin curtain of her bed, but she is too ill to even lift her bone thin arm. She had taken to fasting until he came home once and for all, it was why the illness had become fatal to her. “I want you to promise me something so I may rest easy, my love.”

“Anything you ask I will do, mother.” Against the Septa’s warnings he moves aside the curtain and takes her hands, not caring he would sicken and die as she will.

“I want you to ruin her. I want you to avenge us against her no matter how it is done. For me, for your brother.” She whispers her last request just as her body is wracked by a seizure.

“I promise you I will not rest until it is done.” Aemond the Kinslayer vows as his mother’s convulsions end the Queen in Chains.

His mother has yet to be buried in Kingslanding when the Gods show him revenge is what they need from him.

You had been beset by slavers when traveling from Kingslanding to Oldtown by ship because your husband didn’t want to be emasculated by your dragon nor was travelling by road a possibility. Amid the Daughters' War, Sharako Lohar had taken a gambit and paid for it with his life just as Lyonel did when his folly overrode all good sense.

Aemond did not give a shit about Westeros beyond Daeron Velaryon’s safety for Helaena’s sake, but he couldn’t get close to Rhaenyra unless he had a reason to be welcomed back. The Stepstones would have been a nice gift, but in you he had an even better thing to offer.

“Unhand me! I am Princess of Dragonstone and demand you return me to my mother!” you shout with as much authority a soaking wet girl shivering under a ratty woolen blanket can muster.

“Dear Aemee, is this how you thank your saviors?” he hasn’t called you that since he took your maidenhead the night his father died. Then he had loved you, and you were to be his wife and it wouldn’t even have mattered if there was a babe in your belly before your nuptials.

Now you were the widow of Lyonel Hightower as well as the Queen’s heir. Rhaenyra’s only legitimate child and only daughter. You were worth a kingdom, or in his case, a royal pardon.

And something far worse, the source of your mother’s ruin.

You are treated well, washed and dressed in the clothes found in a trunk stolen from your ship and given the Captain’s Cabin as ordered by Aemond.

Aemond who everyone believed dead three years past.

Aemond whom you had loved since the two of you were children.

Aemond who had murdered your little brother.

“I didn’t die with Vhagar that night, I was saved by pirates who put me to work like any other slave. I earned my freedom and my ship by proving my salt, as you Velaryons put it.” He is reserved in ways he was never with you, but he serves you watered down wine to settle the nerves you hide and even offers you food off his own plate, so you know it isn’t tainted.

“I am grateful to the Gods that they spared you, I feared Daemon had a hand in your murder, well, attempted murder.” You admit taking the mulled wine avoiding the staring he elicits in you.

He had changed, skin a golden tan, with the scruff of a fine beard on his chin and a hardness to him similar and yet unlike the one he had before this all happened.

“If he had, he would’ve succeeded, but alas it was my own overconfidence that did me in. You always said my arrogance knew no limits when you were cross with me.” Aemond joins you at his table, and stares at you to see how the last image of you compares to what he sees before him.

Last he saw you; you were a maid of six and ten begging your mother for his life. Dressed in mourning for your brother with your heart torn between the young man you loved and the fact he had killed Lucerys and been celebrated for it. But you had fallen to your knees and used the Courts favor for you to change her mind and banish him instead.

He was not allowed to see you after, not allowed to take anything save his weapons, some coin for lodgings and whatever Vhagar’s saddlebags had.

Alicent had been made to kiss your feet in thanks so he knew his mother’s life would be taken as well if he dared to rise against Rhaenyra.

The absolute loathing in the deposed queen’s face was something you could never forget.

You had not wanted that, but no one asks what you want anyways. If it pleased mother, she could disinherit you in favor of Jace and you would not be able to say anything about it.

“I am sorry for your loss, Aemond. I know how much you loved her.” You say knowing what had brought him to this side of the Narrow Sea.

“You know why I rescued you, don’t you.” He does not beat around the bush, and you nod knowing this was not done out of the goodness of his heart. He would buy himself safety to at least pay his respects to his mother or put an end to his exile.

“Mother would pay anything for us, the least she could do is allow you to say goodbye to your mother.” You know she would never end his exile; he had killed Luke in under a peace banner, but your life had to be worth something or else you know he would’ve let you die.

He nodded in agreement and the two of you supped in silence, you had not been fed since you were captured and almost forgot your manners to which he even smiled at the turn of events.

“Did you love him?” Aemond asks a question you had known would come. You could not simply forget a love that had been nurtured through a lifetime together, vows made in secret and a sense of belonging you could never find with anyone else.

“I prayed more often for the Stranger to take him than to change his heart.” You admit knowing he would not tell. “I would rather the throne went to Jace and his daughters than let his seed take root inside me.”

“I have to say widowhood suits you, Aemee.” He liked your candor going by the ghost of a smile on his lips.

“I must enjoy it while I can, mother will be hounding me to remarry and keep those vultures from circling about me.” You may as well had professed your love to him given you had only been with two men your entire life. But the two of you had as much chance of being together in this life as the Wall crumbling to the ground.

“I could help you with that, once you gain me a pardon.”

You shouldn’t agree to this, but you do. What other choice do you have? Aemond killed your brother and become a cold-blooded pirate whose reputation preceded him. He could toss you overboard or sell you like the pirates sold Johanna Swan.

“Tell her grace I will not release her daughter unless my terms are agreed.” The Valyrian orders his quartermaster to deliver his terms, along with proof that you and the others rescued were unharmed. He could not dock in Westeros until he was assured no arrests would be made the second, he entered their waters. “Be sure that the men you take with you spread their stories, Cole.”

For your alleged safety he shares his bed with you. He claims his men could betray him to ruin you and, as the prince he was raised to be, he sleeps beside you with his sword between the two of you. Even here in his hideaway in Essos, you are not let out of his presence.

By the time the two of you arrived here rumors had flown that you had celebrated Lyonel’s death with Aemond these past nights, his doing of course.

It was said that Rhaenyra had grown paranoid, that she had Lady Misery’s spies keep watch on everything you did as well. His half-sister would hear of how you shared Aemond’s bed and hardly left his side and believe you are the whore she is.

Rhaenyra will force moon tea down your throat like Viserys is said to have done to her and only he would be able to comfort you over the loss of your mother’s trust.

It would be easy.

You have always loved him; he could tell you the truth about what happened that night and you’d be the Aemma who would believe the moon was made of cheese if he said so.

You would hate him after, but he saved your life making the two of you even, so he no longer owes you anything.

“What will you do if she refuses?” You ask, hiding your fears well, but not good enough for him to be fooled by it. You could never fool him, he knew you better than you knew yourself, he’d wager.

You lay beside him, as the two of you used to do for so long. The sword removed by your own volition as he wormed his way back into your heart little by little. You have yet to give into your pining for him, but you will do it soon enough.

“I’d keep you until she gives in. I could never hurt you, silly girl.” He answered caressing your soft face with a calloused hand knowing you’d eat up his words like you always did.

You’d hate him after, even if he wed you and tied your claim to his when he usurps your mother, you would hate him for it.

But his mother would rest peacefully and that was all that mattered.

[day-drawn-blog]

Part IV: There is more to do and I still want to live

Pairing: Astarion x Reader -- This is set in Act I

Part IV - LOTS of angst and sadness and jealousy and fluff.

Tags: angst, fluff, sadness, angst, fluff, then maybe eventually smut because I do love that

Part I. Crowned light moon of mine - I found you too soon

Part II : Lace your heart with mine Let your sleeping soul take flight

Part III : maybe tonight I'll rest in peace

Part V: our futures bound, our bodies known

Part VI : these ain't my sins, I' broke my chains

Part VII: You are not mine and am I truly yours?

Part VIII: your blood like wine, invites me in

Part IX: I'll welcome my sentence and give you my penance

Part X : I can't go yet...don't let me die

----------

The next morning you woke up. It took you a while to remember last night. You gasped and turned around. Your bed was empty. You were the only one. Your nocturnal visitor had vanished into the night air. Was he even there last night, or did you dream it all? Somewhere in the corner of your turbulent heart, you knew, he had gone back to his paramour. Which was not you. Before the pain of that thought drove you mad, you decided to distract yourself. After all, he never made any promises to you.

Time to get on with it.

The day was weary. You were finding it increasingly difficult to ignore the air between Shadowheart and Astarion. Every glance they shared, every smile was laced with poison for you. You prayed and hoped this would pass. You were the hero. You were the one who would lead them to safety, to the end of this perilous journey. It was a quest for salvation for all of you. And then you were all ambushed.

Time to focus on violence.

That should get your mind off of them. Except, Shadowheart was cornered, and while Astarion was supposed to target another, he defied the plan - to shoot at her attacker leaving himself open to a powerful spell that inflicted several wounds on him. He fell from his station. Drops of his blood splattered on Shadowheart's pale pretty face, down from where he stood.

Your heart had stopped.

Shadowheart shrieked, naturally to see him in pain so. Instantly she cast Santuary on him and incinerated the enemy with her radiance spell. You could feel her vengeance in the intensity with which she cast her spell. They then proceeded to embrace each other, her trying to heal him, and him finding solace in her arms.

You felt your world go blank.

Was there really a point to any of this? What was it, again. Your vision blurry, everything seemed to have slowed down. Or maybe just you. Karlach and Wyll were nearby. Flashes of spells and clash of swords. That's all you heard. Reckless abandon. That is what you wanted to feel. To make it worth something. To be seen, maybe. To be valued, to be needed. Or not be needed at all.

You cared not for your spell magic. It was time to feel the rage delivered through your own hands. Slashing, kicking, swinging your pact weapon. The feel of hitting a mortal enemy, splattering of blood around you. you could hear Karlach yell. Why? Oh, is that blood? Is that yours? Somebody bludgeoned you. Because being able to hit, meant being able to take a hit. Another punch to your face. This one you felt. You lost your footing.

This was fun.

Bring it on. See what I got. I will give it back to you. I have seen worse. I have felt worse. I have nothing more to lose. I will take you down with me. That's what raced through your mind. You hit harder, faster and with more venom than before. Killing with your own hands. You never enjoyed it before. Where is this rage coming from. You were no barbarian. You could feel the Hellish Rebuke coursing through your own body. you hit. And was hit back. Thrown back. Several times you landed on the floor. And got back up.

And then you felt hot. Warm. You had been hit with a fire spell.

You heard Wyll yell out. You could feel Karlach going into Rage. You knew the battle was won. You smiled, and you fell. For the last time that day. The last thing you remember seeing was Karlach cradling you, and Astarion running towards you from the distance. You couldn't make out what his face looked like. "Serves you right. Watch your only source of food disappear." you thought. You smiled, even if you were in pain.

The next thing you remember is Karlach nursing you in your tent.

Everything hurt. Pain all over. Wrapped in badages all over. You wondered what went down after your...recklessness. Karlach seemed really sad. Worried. "Thank the gods you are awake! What were you thinking?!" You smiled weakly. "Laezel has been going on and on about how impressed she was with your battle field prowess. "Ah.. Laezel, she would be...I'm glad".

After much fussing by Karlach, and Gale, and Shadowheart and basically everyone, who came to express their concern and relief or awe in your battle prowess or chastise you for your recklessness, you were relieved to get some quiet time. In which you wondered, where was the man, who mattered the most.

Typical. A vampire, only thinks of himself. and then suddenly, you remembered the look of pure horror on his face as you blacked out. But was he impressed? Was he worried? Did you get, ....his attention at last? You needed to know, if you were seen, at last.

If you mattered. To him. At all.

You decided to trudge outside in the cool night air. Everyone was finally asleep from all the exhaustion. It was a clear sky. Perhaps it is a great time to find a nice little piece of nature all to yourself. To take in the solitude.

You walked, slowly in the quiet night.

A little away from camp, you saw a shadowy figure. Almost predatory, walking towards you. Unmistakable.

So there he was.

He wasn't with shadowheart tonight? Maybe he had gone to hunt since, you weren't available. Your heart skipped a beat. There he was, out hunting. Was he scared he almost lost you? Was he finally worried about you? You wondered how the conversation would go. You had no idea why you did what you did, nor how he would react. You braced yourself.

But he said nothing at all.

He approached you. His face shone briefly in the moonlight. His eyes were cold. His shoulders brushed yours but he didn't stop. His glance was smouldering. Steely. But he said not a word and walked straight past.

You watched his back, through the light and darkness. Wait. You wanted to know, what he felt... "Are, you ... okay, Astarion? I saw you getting hurt earlier." Silence. Then he stopped and turned. You could hear your heart beat.

"Me? I am very glad to be alive you see. I do not want to just, end it all. Despite what my life has been so far, I still want to live." he looked at you with disdain.

You were taken aback.

You had been chastised by Wyll and to some extend Shadowheart, for your recklessness. But why did this one, cut through your heart?

"That's not... what I was ... "

But, is that what you were doing? Or is that what he thinks you were doing. Either way, you felt, ashamed. You would surely never. You had promised to be the Hero and Savior to others who needed saving. You wanted to love those that needed it. No. He was not right. It was not true. You won't let it be true.

You found your voice.

"Is that what you think I was doing? ha. I bet you got all worried, thinking your only source of higher blood would disappear. isn't it?" Your voice was laced with bitterness.

"And is that what you think of me?" His face was in the shadows. You could not see the glare in his eyes, but you could feel the disdain in his voice. "Well, in that case, maybe it is time for our nightly trysts to come to an end".

No. I didn't mean that.

You felt gripped by a sudden fear. No. Do not cast me aside. That is my only use to you. Do not take that away from me too. Please. That is not what I meant or wanted. That is the only time you look at me. You know of my existence. Only way I am needed by you. Only time I am wanted by you. No. You could feel tears choking you.

You couldn't speak. So he turned and resumed walking back to camp.

You turned too and then you broke down. You could not stop your tears. You felt so sorry. So very sorry for yourself. You almost lost yourself today, for this man. Why? Did you just want to be seen that badly. Only to be thrown away entirely. You watched the tears drop on your hands, and you knelt on the ground with your hands propping you up. Nothing you did would ever matter.

This was the bitter truth you so desperately wanted to deny. You never mattered to begin with. You were nobody to him. And you almost died for him. How could you hate yourself so much? Why would you not value yourself. Was he worth all that? You will never be Shadowheart. For it is she, who was in his heart and mind. You were just a convenient transaction.

You felt warm hands, from behind.

Hands that held you up. As you cried your eyes out. You were held in an tight embrace. As if the person wanted to take all your pain away. The harder your cried, the tighter you were embraced. You were found, by someone. Someone was there. Someone cared. That's all that mattered to you at that instant. You didn't care who it was. You were grateful it was...someone. You absorbed all the warmth in their body, and you felt the support of their broad chest against your back, as they buried their face in your neck from behind.

You felt his soft caress on your neck.

You felt so happy, that you started crying even more. You felt eternal bliss, you felt cared for, seen and you felt loved. You felt wanted. Your yearnings, came rushing out in salted tears. You wanted to laugh and smile, but you cried instead. Tears of joy, if only you could tell him that.

"I am sorry. I did not know. I am sorry. What can I do. How can I help you, please tell me a way." he whispered. "I cannot see you like this. I need you. Yes I need you. But not for your blood. You are our salvation. You protect us. From our personal demons. And in Wyll's case, quite literally".

You finally laughed a little.

He loosened his grasp a bit at that. Realizing, that the worst may have passed. but he did not let go entirely. Still resting his head next to you, kneeling on the ground with you, he held on. "I will one day, somehow, give you a reason to live on. Something you will want to hold on to. I promise you. Can't you wait a little bit. I don't know what that is yet. But you have my word".

Those were the last words you heard that night.

Because your pain and exhaustion and happiness came crashing on you at once. You felt your consciousness slip away. You felt swpt up, carried. You heard Karlach on the way. "What did you do to her Astarion! You better not have hurt her! she was already in bad shape. Did you make her cry?! Why are her eyes so swollen?" You drifted to a very sweet dream that night. Content somehow.

Part V: our futures bound, our bodies known

[crownmemes]

Angry & Irritated Sentences, Vol. 17

(Angry and irritated sentences from various sources. Adjust phrasing where needed)

"I'm going for a walk before I say something I deeply regret."

"You're not the only person here with feelings."

"You're such a snob!"

"If vengeance is all you seek, seek it elsewhere."

"Stop being so frightening in front of my friends!"

"For once in your life, admit that you are up against something bigger than you!"

"Be quiet. I need to think right now, and you are grinding down my ears with all of your babbling!"

"Maybe there's nothing worth protecting in your life. I'm not ashamed that there is in mine."

"Don't you dare play the innocent with me!"

"Your ego is astounding."

"Don't you think I know what I sounded like today? Do you think I enjoy being humiliated and laughed at like that?"

"You show your face, you coward!"

"Do you take me for the sort of fool who'd make myself look so suspicious?"

"Forget logic. Try empathy."

"You’re staring at me. Stop!"

"Don't interfere. It's not of your business."

"Your politeness is so grating."

"Every once in a while, I like to hear the voice of someone who's on my side."

"Don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about!"

"I almost died and you're cracking jokes!"

"Everything you've ever done, you've only ever done for yourself."

"Have you nothing better to do than sit with your feet on the desk, slurping tea?"

"Don't you ever get tired of hearing yourself talk?"

"I detest you more than you could ever know."

"I don't think you have the right to be this angry with me."

"You have no clue what it takes to do what I do!"

"I get a bit sick of you using your mouth as a cattle prod."

"Obedience doesn't come naturally to you, does it?"

"You're nothing but a petulant child!"

"I just asked you a straight question. I want you to give me a straight answer."

[arpmemething2]

Batman the Animated Series sentence starters

Send one for my muse’s reaction.  Feel free to change pronouns as needed.

"All right, scum bucket, it's you, me, and thirty stories. You're gonna tell me exactly what I want to know."

"That's one way to remove a splinter."

"I have this natural immunity against poisons, toxins, the pain and suffering of others. Go figure."

"I failed you. I wish there were another way for me to say it. I cannot. I can only beg your forgiveness, and pray you hear me somehow, someplace... someplace where a warm hand waits for mine."

"Last time we met, you tried to throw me off a building."

"If you think I've been bad news before..."

"Old and infirm as you are, I'd trade a thousand of my frozen years for your worst day."

"What kind of a saboteur uses a six-thousand dollar Metronex to set a time bomb?"

"I never counted on being happy."

"A strong mind can fuel a frail body."

"I need a new car."

"There's no way you could have escaped from that explosion! How did you get out?"

"I'm gettin' too old for this."

"I suppose what they say is true: society is to blame. High society."

"Succumb to the fear!"

"Gee, it's amazing the things you find in people's glove compartments."

"Children and guns do not mix. Ever."

"I'm having a BAD DAY! I'm sick of people trying to shoot me, run me over or blow me up!"

"They're not stupid, and it's your party."

"Aren't they just the cutest family you've ever seen?"

"It's midnight darling, time to unmask."

"It's gonna be one of those nights."

"When you look too long into the abyss, the abyss looks back through you."

"If you're so smart, why aren't you rich?"

"You've got to admit there's something between us."

"There's always time to heal."

"I didn't realize you'd taken up listening to rock and roll."

"Choosing a weekend date?"

"I don't believe in fate."

"An entire city screaming in fear. I wonder if we'll be able to hear it."

"Some thought I'd gone mad. Others thought I always had been. And so they put me where they thought I belonged."

"Ask me no questions and I'll tell you no tales."

"This city would fall apart without you!"

"I love that trick but I can never make it work."

"Taking up video games, are we?"

"I hate it when he does that."

"You are strong... but not strong enough!"

"They don't make straight jackets like they used to. I should know."

"He's not samurai. He's NINJA. They're spies and assassins. Their only code is to get the job done."

"A pixel is worth a thousand words."

"I am vengeance! I am the night!!"

"And who says opera has to be boring?"

"He always knew how to make an exit."

"Hey! Do I hit your kids? Oh, actually I do..."

"Now boys, didn't your mommies teach you that's not the way to get a lady's attention?"

"Not the robot theory again."

"Freeze, maggots! You're all under arrest!"

"You said you'd never let me go home!"

"What was she before she went bonkers?"

"This used to be a beautiful street. Good people lived here once."

"'Tis better to have loved and lost, and made a small profit, than never to have loved at all!"

"Chance is everything. Whether you're born or not, whether you live or die, whether you're good or bad. It's all arbitrary."

"But you've forgotten the first rule of comedy: if you have to explain the joke... THEN IT ISN'T FUNNY!"

"I told you not to speak!"

"Coming through! Hot stuff!"

"The snow is beautiful, don't you think? Clean, uncompromising..."

"When the going gets tough, the tough go shopping."

"What a pleasant surprise. Though I should warn you - breaking and entering is against the law."

"This could cause a stampede to pork."

"You really know how to put the fun in funeral."

"You ought to put your toys away."

"Would not, could not... would not, could not... oh, could not join the dance."

"Home. I never thought that could sound so good."

"Then I'll see you in your nightmares!"

"As the Bard said, "the fault lies not in our stars, but in ourselves.""

"You know what I'd have given for a death scene like this. Too bad I won't get to read the notices."

"He's a little protective of all this. I think he likes bats better than people."

"All your power and money has bought you an empire of misery."

"Don't try this at home kids!"

"I feel ill."

"Well, that was fun! Now, who's for Chinese?"

"You're about to fall out of orbit."

"Why can't he ever stay dead?"

"They can bury me in the ground, as deep as they like. But I'll grow back. We always grow back. Don't we, baby?"

"All men have something to hide. The brighter the picture, the darker the negative."

"You thought I was just another bubble-headed blond bimbo! Well, the joke's on you, 'cause I'm not even a real blonde."

"When the wage slaves start acting like they own the place, it's time to pull the plug."

"I've been known to be foolish, but ain't nobody calls me a liar and goes to bed happy."

"Since you don't like my side-splitters, how 'bout a skull-splitter?"

"This is kidnapping, mister! Last time I checked, it was highly illegal!"

[racefortheironthrone]

Why was queens pardoning prisoners seen as good? Like murders and sexual assaulter ect? Wouldn’t the public be against that?

This is an area where I think Foucault was actually right:

"...The public execution is to be understood not only as a judicial, but also as a political ritual. It belongs, even in minor cases, to the ceremonies by which power is manifested.... The public execution, then, has a juridico-political function. It is a ceremonial by which a momentarily injured sovereignty is reconstituted. It restores that sovereignty by manifesting it at its most spectacular. The public execution, however hasty and everyday, belongs to a whole series of great rituals in which power is eclipsed and restored (coronation, entry of the king into a conquered city, the submission of rebellious subjects); over and above the crime that has placed the sovereign in contempt, it deploys before all eyes an invincible force. Its aim is not so much to re-establish a balance as to bring into play, as its extreme point, the dissymmetry between the subject who has dared to violate the law and the all-powerful sovereign who displays his strength. Although redress of the private injury occasioned by the offence must be proportionate, although the sentence must be equitable, the punishment is carried out in such a way as to give a spectacle not of measure, but of imbalance and excess; in this liturgy of punishment, there must be an emphatic affirmation of power and of its intrinsic superiority. And this superiority is not simply that of right, but that of the physical strength of the sovereign beating down upon the body of his adversary and mastering it by breaking the law, the offender has touched the very person of the prince; and it is the prince - or at least those to whom he has delegated his force - who seizes upon the body of the condemned man and displays it marked, beaten, broken. The ceremony of punishment, then, is an exercise of 'terror'... The sovereign power that enjoined him to kill, and which through him did kill, was not present in him; it was not identified with his own ruthlessness. And it never appeared with more spectacular effect than when it interrupted the executioner's gesture with a letter of pardon...The sovereign was present at the execution not only as the power exacting the vengeance of the law, but as the power that could suspend both law and vengeance. He alone must remain master, he alone could wash away the offences committed on his person; although it is true that he delegated to the courts the task of exercising his power to dispense justice, he had not transfered it; he retained it in its entirety and he could suspend the sentence or increase it at will." (emphasis mine) Michel Foucault, Discipline and Punish, ch. 2

Unlike a modern conception of criminal justice, which is premised as an objective, rational, truth-seeking process in which precise identification of the right suspect and their level of guilt and the appropriate nature of their punishment, criminal justice systems in premodern Europe (although not necessarily limited to the same) were meant to emphasize the terrifying arbitrariness of royal power. With rituals put in place in order to ensure guilt through public (often coerced) confessions, the point wasn't whether the sheriff and the judge had "got the right man" or whether "the punishment fits the crime," but that the king could either enact public displays of bodily obliteration or public displays of mercy at their sole discretion.

In a sense, the pardoning of the guilty was a necessary justification for the deliberately disproportionate brutality of a pre-carceral system of punishment. This promoted the logic of submission to the guilty and innocent alike: if the king could sentence you to the ultimate physical dehumanization whether or not you were guilty, the only hope was either the mountain and forest refuge of the outlaw or the hope of a pardon as a quasi-divine act of unearned grace.

[rpmemes-galore]

Dorothy : ROCKISDEAD album ... sentence starters

"Kiss it, baby."

"You're my evil."

"This city's too cold."

"You are not worthy."

"But this war is mine."

"You can take all I got."

"Your heart is a plague."

"Gonna raise the dead."

"You can lie to my face."

"I've seen dark nights..."

"Gotta raise a little hell."

"You can tear me apart."

"Will you still let me in?"

"Don't send me no angel."

"Will you give me shelter?"

"You're the only home I know."

"Give me what I'm hurting for."

"You can't raise hell with a saint."

"Preacher tried to make me see."

"Vengeance is a cold thing, baby."

"No tellin' what I'll do on my own."

"Why did love open up my scars?"

"You know what the broken need."

"Set me free and change my ways."

"No words gonna change my mind."

"Darkness is gonna break your light."

"Ain't no good love comes from pain."

"Give me a harbor, what do you say?"

"Why did love put a gun in my hand?"

"Ain't no sleep when the wicked play."

"This night ain't for the faint of heart."

"Why did love put a knife in my heart?"

"I need a man who will fight for his own."

"I need a man with a black heart of gold."

"You're fuckin' with the wrong wolf, baby."

"Was it for redemption? Was it for revenge?"

"Ain't the right way, but it's the only way I know."

"This night ain't for the holy man with the holy plan."

"Was it for the thrill of pushing my hope to the edge?"

"I need a man who's got blood on his hands and the truth on his face."

[virusinfected-memes]

TUMBLR TEXT POST SENTENCE STARTERS, PT. 2 ;

75 starters. CW: blood mention, cussing, death. Starters come from various text posts floating around Tumblr. The only thing changed for this post was adding capitalization and punctuation. Feel free to change words and pronouns as needed! [PART 1]

“Academia is cool and sexy until I’m expected to work.”

“An anime with more than a hundred episodes is a bigger commitment than marriage.”

“Anyone who believes all water tastes the same is no acquaintance of mine.”

“Anyway, that’s every reported eyewitness account of Mothman through ‘68, and that’s just in West Virginia! Haha, but enough about me. Let’s hear about your top five cryptids!”

“Aside from being the worst person alive, I am literally perfect.”

“At the end of the day, I’m just a girl who loves her bed.”

“Being equally obsessed with each other sounds hot to me.”

“Being good doesn’t get you anything.”

“Be the worst you can be.”

“But do aliens believe in me?”

“Don’t let anyone dehumanize you. Dehumanize yourself. Be the creeping eldritch horror you’ve always longed to be. Rain furious vengeance down upon those who would unmake you.”

“Do something today that would’ve gotten you burnt at the stake four hundred years ago.”

“Do you ever just want someone to come over and sit on the floor with you for a few hours?”

“Do you ever wanna listen to music, but every song is just not the right song?

“Feeling safe around someone’s energy is a different kind of intimacy.”

“Flirting is childish. We’re grown. Just tell the person you like that you see God in their eyes.”

“Friendly reminder that the age of technology is coming to an end and a new age of blood magic and dark rituals will take its place.”

“Friendship is temporary. Blood pacts are forever.”

“Girls don’t want boys. Girls want to live in a Victorian estate and be the most feared widow in the village.”

“Half of me is a hopeless romantic and the other half of me is, well, an asshole.”

“Having a body causes me so much agony. I wish I was just a floating entity with no physical form.”

“How do I overthink so much and still make the wrong decision?”

““I can fix him!” You can’t even fix your sleep schedule, bestie.”

“I don’t care if your body is a temple. Call me when it’s been closed down and taken over by Spirit Halloween.”

“I don’t know about soulmates, but those people who eat parts of the food or candy that you don’t like and you do the same for them... We’ve lived a hundred lifetimes together, probably.”

“I don’t think we can romanticize our way out of this one, boys.”

“If you see me in the streets, just know that my mind is in the void. I’m physically alive, but mentally checked out.”

“I guess we all learned a valuable lesson. Except for me. I wasn’t paying attention and was asleep for most of the time.”

“I hate when people ask what I would do in their situation because nine times out of ten, I would literally never be in that situation in the first place.”

“I hope manners is the next cool trend.”

“I just love sleep so much. Like, you just close your eyes and you’re gone, bitch. Brain logged the fuck off. Powerful.”

“I just realized there’s, like, a hundred new Pokémon coming this year, give or take, and I have to decide what personal memories and details about friends to forget in order to make room for them all.”

“I like my women like I like my woods. Haunted and could kill me at any moment.”

“I like to fuck around and waste time at least six to ten hours a day, and let me tell you, that puts some pressure on your schedule. You have no idea how busy I am.”

“I love to learn. Unfortunately, my brain doesn’t like to remember.”

“I love when I ‘make a mental note’ of something. It’s gone within twenty seconds.”

“I’m not a religious person, but I do sometimes think God made you for me.”

“I’m not playing hard to get. I genuinely don’t know how to talk.”

“I’m wearing dark glasses today because I’m seeing the future, and the future is looking very bright.”

“I think it’s so neat that everyone develops their own unique handwriting even though we’re all taught to write our letters the same way. Really, it’s so cute.”

“I think making sense is optional. Sometimes I just be talking.”

“I think the meaning of life is eating good food in the company of people you love.”

“It’s because I’m pretty, that’s why I have problems.”

“It’s crazy how I’m just some person.”

"It seems you are in love with your computer.”

“It’s not rude to interrupt someone to point out a dog. It’s actually more polite because then they don’t miss out on the dog.”

“I will never elaborate because I have no idea what I just said.”

“Live, laugh, love? Nah. Languish, lament, lay down.”

“Michael Myers taught me a valuable life lesson. Don’t worry about how fast everyone around you is moving. If you’re determined, just move at your own pace and you’ll kill shit every time. Thanks, Mike.”

“Moving to the forest to eat leaves and lie in the dirt. Insurance companies can’t deny me this.”

“Okay, bored of being alone now. Ready to get married.”

“Okay, hear me out... What if—now bear with me—we held hands? Maybe even kiss a little? Hugs would be nice—”

“People keep posting ‘what’s REALLY in your food’ articles like I’m gonna stop eating whatever it’s about. Listen, death is coming. Death is coming. Pass me a hot dog.”

“People who fall asleep right away freak me out. Don’t you bitches have thoughts?”

“Really starting to understand old people these days. I love letters. Love packages. Terrified of my email inbox.”

“Someone take me out. Either in the assassination way or in the date way.”

“Sorry for being so sexy and having the best taste in literature. As if I asked for it.”

“Sorry I called you a fucking idiot. I was trying to flirt.”

“So what if I love you? Shut up.”

“The fact that I have to be in the ‘right headspace’ to do even the simplest tasks is absolutely humiliating.”

“The only difference between me and a medieval peasant is that I can make a Spotify playlist to express my feelings.”

“The only reason I haven’t gone insane is because I romanticize everything.”

“There should be a dating app where you talk to people who borrowed the same books from the library.”

“There’s something inherently holy about kitchens.”

“Tired of being a person. Would much rather be an unidentifiable and nebulous entity that lives in the woods and may or may not be an omen of misfortune to come.”

“Wanna haunt the neighborhood with me tonight?”

“Well, I used to be attracted to people, but now I’m exclusively attracted to abstract art and the concept of death.”

“What is the logic behind naps leaving you with a weird taste in your mouth? I wasn’t eating, I was sleeping. It’s the spiders, isn’t it?”

“Winnie the Pooh didn’t rock crop tops our whole childhood to watch us become unconfident about our bodies.”

“Yes, I’m dramatic! What did you expect? I read classic literature for fun.”

“You’d look prettier under six feet of dirt.”

“You don’t always need to talk. Like, it’s good to shut the fuck up sometimes. I love not talking.”

“You gotta walk into rooms like God sent you.”

“You’re beautiful, but you’re empty. No one could die for you.”

“You wanna know what’s annoying me right now? It’s me. I am annoying the goddamn shit out of myself.”

[hyprmemes]

misc sentence starters edit as you see fit

"i've missed you so, love, more than lungs could air"

"i don't see how you could possibly ask more of me, after all i've given"

"i don't consider myself kin to those who give up easily"

"perhaps you've fought too hard, have you ever thought of that?"

"maybe it's the look in your eyes, angry wisdom has most quiver in fear"

"you have offered me nought but reason to self-flagellate"

"your longing for punishment seems unreasonable even to those you've wronged"

"you mistake yourself for a god, that much is clear"

"we only suffer when we're together, you and i"

"i like to think i was meant for more than for longing"

"and you yearn? even after all this time? after all this?"

"it seems much more likely that you're in love with an idea not even you understand"

"i can't do it, what you want from me can only be achieved in your imagination"

"in your eyes i feel lesser than human and greater than god"

"it is a weight to bare, your eyes on me, on what i do and what i think"

"you give me nothing to fight for, only empty promises and empty rewards"

"perhaps i've outgrown it, perhaps i've outgrown us"

"be fair, give me a just fight with a just victory"

"i want your defeat, i want to see you on your knees, and i want mine to be the blade making you kneel"

"what ties us together is uglier than love, holier than death"

"i want justice, you see? justice for the me you killed all those years ago"

"you could ask for forgiveness, grant me at least that"

"what do you repent for, you've no soul left in you to save"

"i can see it in your eyes, the ugly suits you, you find it homely, blood, death, and vengeance"

"let us feast now, let us feast and speak toasts to all those we've abandoned to get this far"

"to forget and be forgotten is the gift of the mortals, perhaps our only one"

"that's just like you, always punish pandora for the men who have claimed her flaws and used them as excuses to maim"

"i don't like you, i never have, i never will, you are despicable and liking you would make me rot the way you have"

"consequences be damned, right? you never cared for neither living nor dead"

"halt, a moment, just one, where would you even go?"

"there is no one waiting for you there, though i suppose that's the reason you go"

"and will you ever stop? what's all this journeying for, if you have no destination"

"this is no life to live, but it makes for a good tale, does it not"

"tell me again, remind me why i am supposedly worthy to be seen by you"

"perhaps i exist only here, only now, only when you perceive me, above all others"

"perhaps i can only exist as myself if you remember me"

"i must go now, but i will leave my soul with you, guard it well, it is more yours to hold than it is mine"

"i don't want to be good or better, i want to be acceptable, i want to be the kind of person you could forgive"

[divine-donna]

Your posts are the greatest thing ever I was wondering if you could alicent and rhaenyra reacting to reader killing one of their children in combat during the dance thanks. 🥰

my god anon. that is PURE ANGST! you are despicable for giving me this suggestion /pos

anyways thank you so much for the compliment! it means a lot and i'm so happy you enjoy the content i create. there's not much that can be asked from as a creative. i love it when you guys enjoy the stuff i put out.

i do love writing angst. so umm...welp. i'll just leave this post here for you guys. i hope your heart hurt as much as mine did while writing this.

rhaenyra targaryen

it was just whispers, rumors. but the reality of war was that there would be loss. she just didn’t expect for her to have to grieve more than she already has.

daemon had a solemn look on his face when he approached her that evening. and he told her the news.

he never saw her react so quickly and violently.

the black queen threw her cups of wine into the fire with unrestrained force. her breathing was rapid and she stood from her seat, walking out.

“rhaenyra. rhaenyra!” daemon exclaimed.

you had killed her oldest, jacaerys. stabbed through the heart and then having taken an eye out. for aemond. is what you apparently had said, according to the soldiers that fled.

rhaenyra saw white. pure white.

it wasn’t just intense sorrow, a sorrow that tore through her body like she was being burned from the inside out. it was anger. anger at you. anger at the world. anger at alicent and aegon.

she had gone to the training yard and picked up a sword and began hacking away at the practice dummies. she just kept going, screaming while hot tears ran down her cheeks.

she didn’t even realize that daemon had come to check up on her and he only watched as she tore apart the dummies and anything that could have been broken by a sword.

when her anger finally faded away and she could see the destruction she caused, she tossed the sword on the ground, panting.

she looks at daemon who communicates with her how he feels through the look in his eyes.

“i’m going to kill them! i’m going to kill alicent! i’m going to kill aegon! i’m going to kill that stupid boy aemond!” she exclaims.

“we will kill them all. and we will put their heads on the traitor’s walk when we retake the iron throne.”

“i will kill (y/n). i will kill them personally.”

“is that what you really want, rhaenyra?”

“i will kill (y/n) if it is the last thing i do. i will avenge my children!”

alicent hightower

when aemond attempted to take back harrenhaal, you were there. and you led the counterattack. adrenaline had run through your veins and with unrecognizable strength, you sunk your blade through his eye socket.

part of it was your rage. you cared for lucerys like he was your own. he reminded you of your younger brother, who had died from dornish raiders. and when the news reached you that luke had been killed by aemond’s hands, you swore vengeance.

finally, luke could be at peace.

alicent was horrified when she opened the box. rumors have it that she screamed, collapsed, and tore at her dress from the sorrow that ran through her veins.

with aemond dead and green morale low, the blacks took back king’s landing.

she was forced into the great hall for sentencing. but when she saw you, she saw red.

“you!”

“me.” you say.

“you killed aemond. how could you have killed him!” alicent exclaims. she could not even look at rhaenyra. her sole attention was on you. “you killed my son!”

“your son killed prince lucerys without consequence. is that a fair trade for your son’s eye? you probably thought so. a life for an eye.” you shrug, unbothered.

alicent didn’t even know she had such strength within her. but she tore herself from the arms of the soldiers holding her up and pulled one of their swords from its sheath.

you send them a look, deciding to let the grieving woman charge towards you with a blade. she was intent on cutting your head off.

her swings were sloppy. to be expected from a woman who had others do the dirty work for her. you deflect them easily and dodge.

eventually, you knock the sword out of her hands and drop your blade. she attempts to hit you, but you stop her hand, gripping onto it.

“i trusted you! i trusted you (y/n)!” she exclaims. “you killed aemond. my aemond!” her voice became incomprehensible as she sobbed. her cries were painful and they rang throughout the great hall.

you could only hold her there and tell her one thing.

“a son for a son.”

[aayo-whatt]

~got bored so i put the winchester gays and their angel "buddies" in an incorrect quotes generator~

PART TWO BESTIES

~~

Adam, ordering coffee: I’d like a light roast. Dean: You're kinda ugly.

~~

Cas: It’s impossible to make a sentence without using the letter a. Michael: Despite your thinking, it is quite possible, yet difficult, to form one without the specific letter. Here’s one more to further disprove your theory. Gabe: Fuck you.

~~

Sam: Oh my Gabe. Dean: Don't you mean 'oh my god'? Sam: You worship your god, I'll worship mine.

HELLO- IM DYING RN-

~~

Michael: Swear words are illegal now. If you say one you'll be fined. Dean: Heck. Michael: You're on thin fucking ice. Michael: Oh no-

~~

Michael: If I had a face like yours, I'd put it on a wall and throw a brick at it. Gabe: If I had a face like YOURS, I'd put it on a brick and throw a wall at it.

~~

Michael: What's my sexuality?! I don't fucking know! I'm not straight, and that's all that matters. Well, maybe that's unfair to the straights. Some of my best friends are straight! Well, one of them. Well, I know them, and Dean is perfectly tolerable person in small doses!

~~

Cas: Dean, you're an asshole, man. Dean: You are what you eat Cas.

CACKLING SOBBING ON THE FLOOR DYING OH MY CHUCK-

~~

Michael: A mouse! Dean, pulling out a knife: Go back to where you came from or I'll stab you. Gabe, pulling out a frying pan: It'll make a nice meal! Adam, giving the mouse cheese: You deserve a treat, little guy. Cas, gasping: It's Ratatouille! Sam: His name is Remi, dummy. Michael: I was going to say to just trap it and throw it out the window... what is wrong with you people.

~~

Michael: *standing at the top of the stairs* What are y'all doing at the bottom of the staircase? Cas: I accidentally fell down. Gabe: DEAN PUSHED ME down the stairs because I refuse to pay THEIR part of our rent! Sam: Cas bet me fifty bucks that I couldn't reach the bottom of the stairs faster than they did falling down it, so I slide down the banister to get my money. Adam: I don't know how I got here. One moment, I was sleeping in my bed, three floors up, and then suddenly I was waking up here, just in time to get crushed by Sam.

~~

Michael: So... who's the big spoon and who's the little spoon? Cas: We're chopsticks! Michael: Well... that's cute! Michael: Does that mean you two snuggle together perfectly? Dean: No, it means that if you take the other away, the only thing the other is good for is stabbing.

~~

Dean: Standing next to sunflowers always makes me feel weak like ‘look at this fucking flower. This flower is taller than I am. This flower is winning and I’m losing.’ Sam: Wow, you are not ready to hear about trees.

~~

*Dean dies in a game with ships* Cas: This ship is no longer a ship of love, it's a ship of vengeance, a gavel of justice against all that is wrong in the world, showing no mercy, as no mercy was shown to us. Cas: The spark of love will now fuel the fires of destructive glory as I wage my war across the world with righteous fury. Gabe: Legend has it that Dean still haunts the ship, stealing my fucking drinks. Dean: Of course I do.

~~

Adam with a gun to Sam's head: What happens if I pull this trigger? Heaven? Sam: Bold of you to assume I'll go to Heaven.

~~

Cas: A butterfly! Hey, little guy, gal or nonbinary pal! Michael: Can a butterfly be nonbinary? Cas: I mean, maybe? I don't judge. Adam, staring dreamily out of the window: Ah, have you ever imagine having butterfly wings? Then- Gabe: Then it would be inconvenient as fuck. Your wings would smack every doorframe and your clothes would have to have holes in the back. Dean: Also, your wing's paper thin, so even a six year old aimed a NERF gun at it would... Yeah... Sam: *sips coffee* According to all known laws of aviation, there is no way that a- Adam: No, nononono. You fuckers have already shattered my dream, you don't get the fucking privilege to make that reference. Michael: Also, it's about a butterfly, not a bee... Why would you make that reference? Cas: You clearly have not lived with them long enough.

~~

Dean: You treat an outside wound with rubbing alcohol. You treat an inside wound with drinking alcohol.

~~

Cas: I have seen a lot of murders in my time, and all six of them were today.

~~

Gabe: Hey guys! I drew everyones soul! Sam: Why is Michael's a monster? Michael: Gabe, you forgot Sam's! Its only an empty space! Gabe, proudly: Exactly

THE THING ABOUT SAM'S SOUL IS CANON OMGKBVERIUERKJ-

~~

Sam: What do you call quantums of electromagnetic radiation that don’t get along? Gabe: What did you just say- Sam: Foetons! *Laughs* Gabe: Wh-what?

that is a terrible joke i love it

~~

Dean: Wakey Wakey Eggs and Bakey! Cas: But I'm a vegan. Dean: Wakey Wakey Vegetables and Sadness.

~~

Gabe: No, this is not a mess. You know what I consider a mess? Cas: Your life? Gabe: I- well yes, but-

~~

Gabe: And here we see Dean and Sam in their natural habitat. Texting eachother variations of the word "garlic bread" to try to make eachother laugh. Dean: Gaelic bread. Sam: Grueling brad. Dean: Ha ha, glamorous beans.

~~

*when sam has no soul*

Dean: Sam, you need to react when people cry! Sam: I did. I rolled my eyes.

~~

PART 1 PART 3