#will: respect women or die by my fist

[disaster-writer]

Ethereous

Pairing: King!Trueform!Sukuna x Reader

Summary: While handing out sentences to criminals, you’re brought in to receive your punishment though King Sukuna has different plans to deal with your crime

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: Smut, non-con, slight gore, Sukuna has two pp’s, double penetration, anal, squirting, hella size kink, suicidal thoughts, reader has long hair and is described as small in comparison to Trueform Sukuna

A/N: This is a royalty AU but don’t look too closely for any historical accuracies, this was mainly about the smut

“Next,” Sukuna demanded disinterestedly, cheek resting atop his fist as he reclined leisurely on his throne.

The guards were quick to drag in the next criminal.

”Kudo Yoshimi,” Uraume announced, just as disinterestedly as their King, “Found drunk and exposing himself to a group of young women.”

Sukuna barked out a laugh, getting a look at the old man that was chained and trembling in front of him, in a deep bow. “Thought you’d show them what you’re working with, eh?” Another chuckle bubbled from his throat, “Castrate him. Next.”

The old man lifted his head in a panic, ”But my King—“ Sukuna waved his hand and the man stopped speaking as his head was cleanly sliced from his neck. 

“Next.” The King of Curses demanded more firmly, watching his body crumble beneath him.

The guards quickly cleaned up the carnage as the next criminal was brought in.

Uraume spoke your name but little made it past the King’s ears as his eyes landed on the delicate creature that was brought in.

A sight for sore eyes, that was for sure.

Sukuna always did wonder why the criminals were rarely women, especially attractive women. It would have made these hearings so much more enjoyable.

He watched the guards force you into a kneel, bending you over and keeping your forehead firmly pressed into the ground.

The corner of Sukuna’s mouth quirked up. 

Curious.

”Step away from her.”

The guards did as commanded and Sukuna watched in rapt attention as you lifted your head and stared your King straight in his eye.

He hummed knowingly.

You wanted to die.

It came as no surprise to Uraume and the more seasoned guards when Sukuna made no move to kill you. His licentious nature was common knowledge, and here was a young, pretty thing being served up on a platter for the King.

Sukuna eyed you, drinking in every last inch and detail of you. 

You stood in a tattered, white nightgown caked and stained in aged blood. Hair unbound and cascading freely, much like the prostitutes he regularly found in the brothels. So delicate and fragile looking but with eyes as fierce and sharp as a blade.

You looked like a kitten with her fangs bared.

”And what has this little one done?”

”She murdered both her mother and father.”

”Hm.”

A silence thickened in the room as Sukuna mulled over his thoughts— so many ways to punish you with a crime like that.

Then there was also your lack of respect which deserved a different sentencing in and of itself.

”What do you think I should do to you, little one?”

He watched amusedly as your jaw ticked. 

“What you would do to any other peasant who committed the same crime.” You spat with such vitriol that the King was forced to admit:

He was impressed.

Grown men have trembled and cried in his presence before. He’s had nobles piss themselves from the fear he struck within their hearts.

”Do you crave death?”

”I have earned it.”

”And what if I were to tell you,” Sukuna shifted in his seat, giving you his complete undivided attention as he leaned forward in interest, “I had a different punishment in mind.”

Ah, there it was.

A slight furrow to your brow, eyes flashing with unease. 

Only for it to disappear.

”Strip her,” he commanded the guards, “I would like to see this beauty unclothed.” 

Your gaze had hardened further, mouth pursing into a little pout as two guards flanked you, hauling you back up to your feet.

Sukuna grinned mockingly at you, reveling in the fact you refused to break his gaze as you stood firmly on your feet all the while the guards stripped you of your nightgown and undergarments. 

The King had been the first one to break, tearing his eyes away from yours in favor of gazing upon your nude figure.

You really were a sight for sore eyes. He eyed your curves, dipped and rounded in all the right places. Particularly liking the plush of your thighs. Nipples stood stiff, pebbled in the cool air, breasts rising and falling with each of your breaths. A patch of hair hid your womanhood from his prying eyes— but no matter, once he had you in his bedchambers every part of you was sure to be bared.

In another life you could have been royalty with looks like those, he was sure. Or perhaps you could have been something else all together. 

You could have been one of those seductresses the fairytales so often warned about, luring both boys and men to their deaths.

But instead you had been born to a lowly peasant family.

Lucky him.

The King of Curses stood up from his throne and closed the distance that separated him from his new object of interest.

He towered over you in both height and width. You had to jut your chin upwards just to look him in the eyes.

He had crossed one pair of arms across his chest while a third hand took a lock of hair between his fingers. 

“Where was she found?” Sukuna asked.

”In her home on the outskirts of the city.”

”The outskirts, hm?” He hummed, gripping your chin and angling your head every which way to get a good look at you. “The poorest of the poor. You must have been a real gem all the way out there. Tell me, little one, how many suitors do you have?”

You didn’t answer.

“More than two?”

“… Yes.”

A chuckle rumbled in his chest at your reply.

”Are you a prostitute?”

You sneered at the King, “I would have killed myself before I was that desperate.”

It seemed he had touched a nerve.

”And why is that? You could have turned a pretty coin by working in a brothel. Would have given you buckets of gold if I ever stumbled upon a delicate thing such as yourself.”

“I would rather become a penniless old maid before letting monsters like you touch me,” you spat.

He laughed loudly at your words. “Must have been nice to have a choice, murderess.” He took a step back, “Take her to my chambers,” he commanded, turning back around and making his way to his throne once again. “Let’s finish these hearings quickly. Next.”

—

The pattering of rain existed in the far distance as the King of Curses gazed upon you within the quiet, dimmed room.

You kneeled on his bed, head cast down since he had stepped inside and dismissed the guards. 

Perhaps you regretted not showing him the proper respect earlier.

He did wish you’d look at him now, standing completely bare before you, both of his thick cocks hanging heavy and hard all on display just for you after having shed his robe the moment he saw your naked form once more.

Gooseflesh pimpled along your skin— you must have been freezing in his cold chambers for the few hours you had waited. He bet those lovely perky buds of yours were still stiff and hard as they were earlier, shame he couldn’t tell as you hid your nakedness the best you could behind your hair. 

“You refuse to look upon me now little one?”

You shrunk further in on yourself at the low, gravelly timbre of his voice.

”Why not kill me?” 

“Now why would I do that?” He hummed, reaching a hand out and capturing a lock of hair once more.

”Everyone said you would,” you breathed out, hands fisting against your thighs.

”You should be grateful,” he tugged lightly on your hair, “A beauty like you shouldn’t die so young.”

You sniffled— it made his cocks twitch, listening to your suffering.

”You’re letting me live… because I’m pretty?” 

“Is that not the answer you desired?”

”You would have sentenced anyone else to death. I should be no different— I’ve earned it.”

He sighed, dropping the lock of hair. Your mind seemed to be a whirlwind at the moment, concerning yourself with things he quite frankly didn’t give two shits about.

”Beauty is a currency, little one. And you have overpaid your toll.” He kneeled against the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. His finger slipped beneath your chin, jutting it upwards.

Your eyes locked with his. Watery and vulnerable, lashes clumping together with your tears. It was such a stark difference from earlier that it stole his breath. “Overpaid indeed.”

He sealed his lips against yours, claiming your mouth in a bruising clash of teeth and tongue, pushing you backwards into the plush bedding beneath you.

You whimpered, the sweet little sound being swallowed by the King.

You didn’t fight or struggle against him to which he found both shocking and pleasing, but you didn’t participate either. You simply allowed him to lick into your mouth and nip at your lips.

He pulled away slightly, strings of spit connecting your mouth to his grin as one hand stroked your cheek and another pair maneuvered your legs around his waist.

”Are you a virgin, little one?”

You tore your gaze away from him, features blank, hiding any emotion you had dared to show him just minutes before.

”No.”

”And who did you give it to? One of your many suitors?”

”It was stolen from me. I apologize, my King, but you are hardly the first man to rape me.” You spat bitterly.

He hummed, a soft chuckle of sorts as his long, pointed thumbnail traced beneath your eye. “But I’m sure to be the last.”

You shrieked, losing your composure at the sensation suddenly felt between your legs. You grasped at the bed sheets, looking to Sukuna for an answer.

”Don’t tell me you are unaware of the rumors?” He taunted.

Your eyes widened at the implication as the feeling of a large moistened tongue lapped between your folds, another strangled cry releasing from your lips.

If that one was true, then—

You attempted to look down, but his manhood had been hidden by the ruffled bed sheets. ”Does that mean?”

“All in due time, little one.”

Your head fell back into the soft pillows, softer than any pillow you had laid your head upon, but unable to appreciate it in it’s fullness as the wet muscle nestled between your legs laved over your clit.

You chewed at your bottom lip, attempting to hold back your wanton moans. 

“Tell me,” he hummed, sucking bruises along your unblemished neck, “Why did you do it?”

You didn’t answer—couldn’t- not while his second mouth worked against you as all four of his hands grasped and kneaded any and all exposed flesh they could reach.

It was— dizzying.

”I’ve asked you a question,” he stated firmly, nipping at your neck.

You opened your mouth to provide an answer but an unrestrained moan tumbled free instead as he began to suck on your clit. The sensation stealing the breath from your lungs.

You blinked quickly in an attempt to stifle your tears.

It shouldn’t feel good.

“You don’t want to anger me little one.” He murmured warningly.

”They— mmh, they sold me too— ah- a brothel!” You choked out, before biting into your lip once more, tasting blood on your tongue.

”And you found death preferable to that fate,” he hummed in understanding.

The irony was not lost on either of you.

You were such a delicate little thing beneath him, being dwarfed deliciously by him. Sukuna found it quite the mystery as to how you weren’t eaten up sooner.

He liked how desperately you tried to hold back your cries, and he’d entertain you in that venture for now.

But he would break you by the time he was through with you tonight. He was sure to have you in tears, moaning freely as you took his cocks.

But this little game was entertaining as well.

You began to pant like a bitch in heat as he continued to suck and flick at your clit, a sheen of sweat now layering your skin. Hips twitching against his abdomen, if it wasn’t for the firm hold he had on you he was sure you’d be halfway up the headboard by now.

His gaze travelled down the length of your neck before landing on your breasts. Little buds just as stiff as he remembered.

He dipped a head down, latching onto the pert nipple and sucking on it with a groan against your chest.

He continued his ministrations, not necessarily working you towards an end, pulling back every time you were close to cumming. You didn’t understand why he was drawing this out longer than it had to be.

Your breath hitched at what followed. The wet muscle between your legs licked lower and lower—

“What are you— AH!” Your eyes flew open, entire body going stiff as a board, trying in vain to pull away from his tongue as he licked over your puckered rim. “Why there—!?” You exclaimed, hands releasing the bed sheets as you tried to push him away.

He chuckled lowly, as you yelped once more while he began to press the tip of the muscle inside, past the fluttering hole. He released your nipple with a wet smack, grinning “Gotta get her ready too~” he lilted, taunted, admiring how your face screwed up in panic at the unfamiliar sensation.

He watched as the realization dawned on you and real, tangible fear flooded your features. 

“No, I don’t— I can’t do that-“

”Of course you can, little one.” He stroked your hair, voice dripping in patronization. “You have two precious little holes down there and I have all the time in the world to stretch them open for me.”

You couldn’t hold the tears back this time, letting them paint your face in shiny trails only for Sukuna to lick them up before shoving his tongue back into your mouth.

You trembled beneath him as he spent a cruel amount of time playing with you, stretching you open. Bringing you to the brink of an orgasm and taking it away just as quickly.

This was what madness felt like.

You were sure of it.

You were caught in a daze, time had become nonexistent, trying and failing to hang onto any of your senses. 

But they were all flooded and overwhelmed by him.

You hardly recognized the feeling of a cock stroking through your folds after what felt like hours of only his mouth until the thick tip breached your entrance.

Your glassy eyes found his. 

He groaned softly with a breath as he slowly pushed in an inch of his throbbing cock, captivated by you once more— caught under some sort of spell that any weaker man would have crumbled under. “You have,” he breathed, cupping your jaw and once again stroking his thumbnail beneath your eye, “The most bewitching eyes— how many men have fallen to their demise under your power?” He lowered his face to yours, trailing a nose along your cheek.

”Power?” You sniffled, staring off behind him, “This isn’t power.”

”Hm,” he hummed, pressing another inch into you, listening to the prettiest whimper get caught in your throat. “It’s a power you haven’t learned to use properly. Like a child who has been handed a sword but never taught how to wield. Born in a better situation, you would have figured out how to make men kill for you— a cleverer woman would have never had to kill her parents by her own hand.”

Your face screwed up in discomfort, breath catching as a hand began guiding his second cock into your other hole.

You gnawed on your lip, digging your nails into his arms as you tried to mull over his words. “B-beauty— ngh— is a curse.” You gasped out at the incredibly large and painful stretch both his cocks had inflicted.

His grin widened, teeth poking out, “Exactly.”

In one slow yet fluid motion he pushed into your cunt and ass.

Your back arched, body going stiff once more as you clung to him for stability. Your breath caught in your throat struggling to breathe through this inconceivable sensation. 

You had never been so full, stretched so wide you were convinced he’d tear you in two if he began fucking you— he was too big, too much.

You trembled like a leaf beneath his much larger and opposing frame, a fresh wave of tears pricking, stinging at your eyes.

It hurt.

You tilted your head, nose bumping against his own. Your eyes, the eyes he seemed to be going mad over, searched his desperately. ”My King— please, I can’t. Please show me mercy.”

A chuckle bubbled up in his throat as he grinned amusedly as you. His lower pair of arms grasped you by the back of your thighs and pushed them upwards, pressing them into your tits.

You were nothing more than a rag doll to him and the idea that he thought you possessed any sort of power tasted bitter on the back of your tongue.

”And why…” He began, sitting back up, now staring at where is two cocks disappeared into your tight holes with a rumble of delight deep within his chest, “…would I do that, murderess?”

He provided little warning before reeling his hips back and pushing back in with a forceful thrust that had any sort of control you had over your own vocal cords disappear as you cried on his cocks.

It was only fitting, you supposed, that the punishment for your crime was to have the King of Curses himself fuck you into unconsciousness.

You’ve heard stories of his concubines while growing up. He has had countless of them but none lasting more than a year before he was ultimately finished with them, slicing them up after cumming in them for the last time.

You would not allow yourself to succumb to the same fate.

The wet slaps of skin smacking against skin mixed with his grunts and your uncontrollable yelps made you want to curl up, the repetitive filthy sounds making you sick.

Why couldn’t he have just killed you.

”I think you might just be the tightest and prettiest little thing I’ve ever stuck my cocks into,” he growled, driving his hips harder against yours, forcing a broken sob free from your lips, body jolting upwards with each of his thrusts, “A goddess for my own pleasure.”

”G-goddesses are— hngh— worshipped!” You choked out.

”Is this not worshipping?” He grunted, pressing your thighs further into your chest, leaning his weight into you and speeding up his thrusts. “I believe if you saw how I treated my concubines, you’d think this was the highest form of worship.” 

You didn’t know what to say, not that you even could as he forced out higher and higher pitched whimpers and cries from your lips.

”How did you kill them, little one? C’mon, hah— tell me,” he growled, suddenly lifting your legs and putting you into a mating press— mounting you like a beast.

”I— hm!” You choked as one of his hands winded between your legs and played with your clit, rolling it beneath the pad of his thumb. His face was close to yours once more, sharp gaze searching your tearful one. “We— ah— w-we had an ax!” 

The King quirked an eyebrow in interest, the idea of you lifting and swinging an ax hard enough to kill your own parents amused him. You would have had to hit them more than once, no doubt.

He found the image of you standing above your parents, holding an ax, covered in their blood startlingly arousing.

Perhaps he’d hunt down the men that had raped you in the past and watch you kill them yourself before he fucked you… or perhaps he’d make them watch him fuck you first before having you kill them. 

His mind reeled with the possibilities.

“A goddess indeed.”

He continued his brutal thrusts into you, the stretch still feeling wildly unnatural even as some of the pain subsided. 

You were close.

And you hated it.

You screwed your eyes shut as both holes fluttered and clenched around his cocks, only forcing Sukuna to grow rougher with you, which in turn drove you closer to your end.

And this time he didn’t pull your orgasm away from you as he did when he used his tongue, instead he found you teetering along the edge of oblivion and pushed you off without hesitation.

The air was knocked out of you, causing your back to arch almost inhumanly so as your vision went stark white. Your cunt clenched around him like a vice, barely registering the wet splashes that escaped you and hit your skin.

He fucked you like an animal during your seemingly endless fall. He groaned out curses and praises about your cunt, repeating over and over again how the gods he hadn’t believed in sent him a goddess to play with— to worship in his own sick way.

His own orgasm hit him harder than any jujutsu technique ever had.

You were better than any of his concubines— milking him like he had never cum before, strings of white painting your womb and he had even entertained the thought of his very own brat growing within you, knocking up a goddess.

Your power was unmatched.

He had crushed you beneath his weight after his orgasm subsided, never having felt so weak in his life. 

The idea was unthinkable— The King of Curses weak.

”What are you, little one?” He whispered breathlessly against your neck.

His tone had taken you aback even within the hazy daze your mind was caught up in, he sounded so reverent. 

“‘M nothing b-but a peasant… with a pretty face,” you panted.

”Hm,” he hummed, breathing against your neck. “If I find you were sent to distract me… I will cut you down without hesitation.”

Your breath had caught in your throat. “You’ll only be giving me what I want.”

”A goddess who is a murderess… and craves death herself,” he dragged his nose along your neck, moving upwards until his lips caressed your ear, “Perhaps you are even fit to be my Queen.”

You stared at the canopy above you, absorbing his words. What you had said next had only earned you a patronizing chuckle and a kiss to your neck.

”Perhaps I’ll just kill myself then.”

[theemissuniverse]

I love your writing! I saw that your requests were open do to mind doing Johnny Cage x reader? (Gender is your choice) like reader is a god/goddess and somehow falls in love with an earthrealmer?

“TOO CLOSE TO THE HEART” JOHNNY CAGE X GODDESS!READER

A/N : surprisingly this is my first Johnny fic lmao. Also a little bit of info the goddess is of nature and virtue

WARNINGS ; none

MASTERLIST

Johnny was a ladies man. Usually he turned on the charm for every woman. But then he met you and his sole attention was on you.

You’ve told him time and time again that you did not mingle with mortals but he didn’t give up.

Johnny often flirted with you but not like how he usually flirted with women. He still kept it respectful because at the end of the day- you were a goddess.

Usually you were able to not fall for his advances but this time you couldn’t resist.

You were in your garden and helped your pretty flowers blossom. You looked over to your left and saw Johnny looking upset with a flower pot. He was sitting at a picnic table.

The flower pot held a flower that was barley alive.

You were quite concerned for Johnny. He was usually full of light but he looked really upset.

You walked over to him and sat down next to him. “What’s the matter? Someone make fun of one of your films?” You chose to joke.

Johnny sighed. The joke didn’t hit with him. You now were extremely worried. He scratched the back of his neck and he passed you the dying flower. “I know how much you like flowers so I was trying to grow one myself for you but…taking care of a flower is a lot harder than I thought.”

Something about this notion was incredibly thoughtful. You were the Goddess of Nature. Flowers were your everything. So, for Johnny trying to bloom one for you melted your heart. It meant he did care about the things you cared about.

You took the pot. “Lucky for you, I am Goddess of all things nature so…” You used your power and the flower started to regenerate into a healthy golden tone. “It’s all healed.”

Johnny smiled at what you did. “That’s pretty cool that you can do that.”

“Oh really? Because what I heard from Kung Lao, you thought it was pretty lame.”

“Well-that was before I got to know you and now I think it’s kick ass.” Johnny stated. You chuckled a little.

You then thought of something. “Why did you do this or try to do this for me any way?”

Johnny gave you a look like it was obvious. “Come on, doll. Don’t be naive. You know I like you.” He sighed a little. “But you don’t got a thing for mortals so I probably should just leave it be.”

You watched as Johnny was about to stand up from the table. You grabbed his arm and made him sit back down. “You are sweet…when you want to be Johnny and it’s not that I don’t want to but it’s unrealistic to be with you. I am immortal. One day, you’ll die.”

“Hey, I’d be one lucky old man to have you on my death bed and you’ll still look that good.”

You shook your head slightly. “I have a lot of responsibilities. We can’t be together twenty four seven.”

“And I’m a hot shot director now. Same here.” Johnny could see that you were starting to get convinced so he took your hands in his. “Come on! One shot. That’s all I’m asking, babe.”

You thought about it. Johnny had been showing relentless interest in you. And after the flower thing, you couldn’t help but say yes. “Alright. We’ll give it a shot.” Johnny fist pumped the air and you rolled your eyes playfully.

Your eyes glowed a bright green. (Because of your Goddess nature.) Johnny tilted his head as he stared into them. “Say, how do you walk out in public with your eyes like that?”

“I don’t.” You stated simply and your eyes changed to your human eye color. Johnny blinked his eyes in shock as he saw them. “Wow. You should wear your eyes like that more often.”

You return your eyes back to their God like nature. “You don’t like my eyes, Johnny?”

“Nah. You look hot either way, babe.” Johnny leaned in to give you a kiss but you placed a finger on his lips.

“In time I will see if you are worthy of that.”

“You know I like a challenge.”

[starkwlkr]

Hiiii! So I do not know if you are making requests but if you are doing can do: Charles x Reader where she is a medical student and will do an internship in formula one, Charles does not like her much until he gets hurt and have to take care of her which makes the two approach

kiss with a fist | charles leclerc

warnings: needles and blood mentions and charles being an asshole <3

Y/n was nervous. She was starting her new internship with none other than F1. She watched a couple of races, but she wasn’t a die hard fan. But she wasn’t here to watch men drive in circles, she was here to work.

When she first arrived to the paddock, she was already making enemies. She didn’t mean to, but a certain Ferrari driver had woken up on the wrong side of the bed that morning. Y/n bumped into Charles, nearly dropping his hot coffee on himself.

“I’m sorry! The photographer was backing up and I-”

“Do you not watch where you’re going? There’s all this space around you.” Charles groaned as he dropped his coffee into a trash can. “What? You want an autograph?”

Y/n rolled her eyes. “Not everyone wants your autograph. And I said I was sorry. By the way, I’m more of a Red Bull fan.” She really didn’t know anything about Red Bull to be honest. You could have someone explain every single detail of f1 and she still wouldn’t understand. All she knew was that Red Bull probably had more haters than supporters.

She quickly left Charles and walked to her boss’ office where she was supposed to meet him. Y/n was already wishing the day was over so she could go back home and bury herself in her blankets after her interaction with Charles, but she had a long day ahead of her.

“Charles Leclerc crashes into the barrier!”

Y/n watched from a monitor as Charles’ Ferrari crashed. The replay kept on going, sort of a reminder to the Ferrari fans that this season wasn’t going their way. Charles stumbled out of his car, almost tripping over his feet.

“He’s okay, right?” Y/n asked her boss. Sure, he was an asshole to her that morning, but she would never wish for someone to get injured.

“Yeah, I got confirmation that Leclerc is fine. Have you met him yet?”

“Sort of. Had to leave before I could even get an autograph.” She said sarcastically, but her boss didn’t pick it up.

“I’m sure you’ll get one.”

Yeah, no.

After the race, Y/n was going through the piles of paperwork she was told to do. She was writing down on her clipboard when she heard a knock on the door. She figured it was her boss or someone else other than Charles Leclerc.

“Yes?” She looked up to see the driver. “Oh. Finally brought me an autograph?” She went back to writing in her clipboard.

“No, someone made me realize that not everyone wants my autograph. I was just wondering if you have time to check if I’m dying.” He said casually.

Y/n dropped her pen and looked at him, wondering if he was serious or not. “Check if you’re dying?”

“Yeah, I crashed today. My head is hurting, I think I might pass out. I’m not dying, right?” Charles explained.

“Fine, I’ll check. Sit down.” Y/n pointed to the examination table next to the desk she was currently using. Charles followed her instructions and sat on the examination table.

“Are you going to give me a shot? Because I hate needles. And sometimes I get weirded out if I see my own blood.” Charles admitted.

“Why would I give you a shot when your head is hurting? I can if you want me to.” Y/n said, standing In front of Charles.

“Nope, I am good.”

“Great. So just let me check if you’re dying real quick.”

Before Y/n could even do anything, Charles spoke up. “My head actually doesnt hurt at all. I lied, I wanted to come here to apologize for this morning.”

“Did your mom find out and made you come apologize?”

“No, my mother doesn’t know but if she did she would pull my ear and tell me to treat women with respect. And I do treat women with respect, but I’ve been having a bad…” Charles sighed and looked down.

“Day?” Y/n guessed.

“Season actually. Point is, I shouldn’t have been mean to you and I’m sorry and i understand if you don’t accept my apology. If I were you, I wouldn’t.” Charles nodded and got off the examination table. Before he could leave, Y/n called his name making him turn around to face her.

“You forgot your lollipop. I have this thing where I give my patients a lollipop no matter what age they are so here,” Y/n handed Charles a red lollipop. “You’re still an asshole, just the sweet kind.”

“Was that intentional? The sweet comment then you giving me a lollipop?” He chuckled as he took the candy.

“Just take the damn lollipop, Leclerc, or I will give you a shot.”

[zoros-sake-bottles]

What you’d argue with them over ! Pt.1 (Zoro, Sanji & Law)

Zoro

-Your arguing about him not taking care of his body

Zoro is willing to stretch his body to any length in order to defeat his opponent, he will break all his bones and loose half of his blood-he doesn’t care at all

He cannot and will not lose before he fights Mi-hawk and steals the title of greatest swordsman

You understand….BUT YOU CANNOT STAND IT

After every battle your left pale at the sight of Zoro, mortified at how he lays on his back in a sweat, bleeding and breathing so heavily 

By the time Chopper gets to him he’s barely conscious and each time you fear the worst. But of course since this is Zoro he pops right back up after a couple hours rest and instantly tries to train

“Lay down” you say your eyes meeting his

He sits up against your wishes and tries to stretch resulting in a spurt of blood from his abdomen

"moron" you mumble forcing him down

Its silent between the two of you as the topic of the afternoon hangs over you both

Your glaring at your boyfriend and he can feel it, so he turns his head away from you

He knows that your arms are crossed and your jaw is clenched

He knows your livid and he also knows why but no matter how intimidating your stance is he won't back down

"Oi, stop looking at me like that-"

"Shut the hell up" you say, your voice sharp and pointy like the edge of a knife

Zoro turns his head as he's about to give you a piece of his mind 

"I don't want to hear it, I'm done. You don't care then I won't care" 

"Go out and die then, selfish prick" you spat

Zoro huffs in disbelief, you've never gotten this callous with him before and he can't believe it 

"If I die that means I failed my goal and didn't deserve the title I was going after, I'm going to push myself beyond my limits whether you like it or not y/n!"

You get up and walk out of the room

You seemed so calm but underneath you were just seething

Zoro had basically just told you that your opinion meant nothing to him and that if he died then he just died

Did he ever really think about you? Did he think about how his death would affect you? How it would affect the crew? 

You bet Mi-hawk recuperates, you knew for a fact that he wasn't dumb and reckless like your boyfriend was

By the way Zoro was doing things, he was going to die from over exhaustion, rather than an actual fight

You cared so much and you hated it

Often there were times when you wanted to tell him "No, you can't go yet" "Zoro your wounds are still healing" "Don't lift weights the stitches will come loose" 

But you never said anything because you knew he would ignore you, telling you to stop nagging and that you were over exaggerating

You were sick and tired of it, so now you were going to let him be 

 Sanji

-Your arguing about him being sweet to other women

Arguments are rare things , that's how good the two of you get along

You’ve always been that solid couple that remembers everything: dates, anniversaries, birthdays-etc.etc.

So for the two of you to have a disagreement it kind of freaked you out

Your fights were always centered around two things: Sanji’s hyper attentiveness to other women's needs and you putting yourself in danger for the safety of others

Today it was the hyper attentiveness

You just couldn’t understand it sometimes, why he went out of his way to do things for girls who clearly had no intention of making nice with him

He would be any woman's doormat! It drove you insane!

You were all for the “respect and never hurt a woman” attitude but the things he allowed-it was a cross of boundaries ! 

Not to mention he was totally oblivious to when women were subtly flirting with him, every time he got bumped against, groped & touched- he just smiled politely

You were a calm and rational person but unfortunately someone got a fist to the face today

You had stormed away, with him apologizing to your victim and chasing after you in your wake

He tried to stop you and talk but you ended up blowing up on him

"Darling-please-" he tried to reach out for your arm

"Don't Sanji! Don't even-I can't do this right now!" you yank away from him

Still he follows behind you like he almost always does

"I can't believe you let that woman touch your chest!" 

"Ma cheri she simply fell into me-”

“What did she trip on Sanji?! The air!?

Sanji loves you more than anything so he didn’t shout not once but you could hear it in his voice that he didn’t agree with the way you handled things

It was no point in talking if he wasn’t going to understand so you left him there and didn’t talk to him much after that

Law

-Your arguing about him not communicating with you properly

This man is a loner

Even with a complete crew, he’s still a loner

You can’t even fathom how your relationship had gotten this far

There's so much he doesn’t tell you, even the small things everyone should know “oh I'm allergic to….  I don’t like when you….  I changed the ….” NOTHING HE TELLS YOU NOTHING

He often does this thing where he underestimates you 

Law operates on his own, he goes by what he thinks is best

You could talk up a whole plan for battle and research ! He would tell you “okay” but when it comes to the day of acting out the plan he’s changed EVERYTHING about it and hasn’t spoken a WORD to you

“Law, are you dead serious?! Wha-I-I looked like an idiot out there! Why didn’t you say anything sooner?!” you stressed running your hands through your hair

“Y/n- ya it wasn’t that much of a change I simply-”

“I was telling everyone the wrong information! I cost us time and-and-”

“It was fine, I'm telling you, your overthinking it…Bepo and Penguin took over and in the end everything was ok, we didn’t draw much attention either” he stood in the door of your shared room with his arms crossed

He clearly didn’t understand why you were so upset, he didn’t understand the magnitude of the issue for you

“Law, look at me…” you glared at your boyfriend

“I WANTED to help, I WANTED them to trust and follow my lead as a fellow member of this crew! Today all I showed them was that i am a clueless buffoon who just so happens to date their captain” your fist balled up

“Nobody thinks that” he raised an eyebrow, dismissing your thoughts and feelings

You were a steaming pot and just like that you were over boiling

“Will you stop treating me like I'm some blasted kid?! I'm 24, for goodness sakes Law are you even listening to me when I talk?!” you shouted but it seemed to have no affect on him

Law stayed silent in the corner and he didn’t move a muscle

You felt like you were talking to a wall

Your eyes glossed over and you stood up and pushed past him, tired of being dismissed and handled like you were incapable 

https://www.tumblr.com/zoros-sake-bottles/730292614007603200/what-youd-argue-with-them-over-pt2-zoro-sanji?source=share

[giorno-plays-piano]

No Apologies

Pairing: orc!Bucky Barnes x reader x orc!Steve Rogers

Warnings: noncon, kidnapping, forced marriage, breeding, magic tattoo, double penetration, my usual orc filth, bad dirty talk.

Words: 2.6k

Summary: Strange, you thought, nervously biting your already hurting lips as you watched them giving you a simple massage, their callous thumbs gently drawing circles on your skin. You'd never thought they would prostrate themselves before a human woman they abducted and married against her will.

P.S. Ok, it was not me who wrote it, it was a horny spirit possessing my body yesterday 👀

__________

"Fucking finally!" A huge dark-haired orc twice bigger than any man exclamed, inadvertently making you jump as you stared at him and his friend.

These two barbarians were the ones who captured you and brought you to the orcs' caves where other human women abducted recently were held - before they were forcefully married to those who kidnapped them, that is, just like you were a couple of hours before.

"Did you mark her with a tattoo?"

The orc behind you smirked, proudly gesturing to your naked crotch with a faintly glowing heart - a magic emblem of sorts, an orc's claim to demonstrate you were a monster whore, a wife of an orc. Or of the two of them, like in your case.

"You're scaring her," the other male said gently, his hand on his friend's shoulder as he eyed you up, humming with satisfaction when you tried to stop your tears, humiliated and afraid, completely naked in front of him. "Thank you for preparing her, brother. We'll take it from here."

The orc behind your back let out a sound close to a bark - he was probably laughing - before finally taking his hands off you and marching back to the main cave where the girls were held before they were given to their respective husbands. A couple of hours before you were presented to your personal orc bastards, you were scrubbed clean, marked with a crotch tattoo, and fed a few sickeningly sweet fruits for your first mating night, as orcs called it. Although, technically, tattoo was binding you to your orcs, the ceremony was considered official once they both filled you with their seed, your kidnappers informed you kindly. It was in your best interest, they said, since if your husbands wouldn't fill your baby room, other orcs could make their claim and take you for themselves. All you had to do was to spread your pretty legs and get a good fuck, they smirked, making your nauseous as you clenched your fists, your arms bound behind your back from the moment you were captured.

Well, you couldn't imagine sleeping with these two brutes with their cocks the size of your arm and staying alive.

"It's gonna be alright," the fair-haired orc smiled at you, gesturing to their bed - a pretty fancy bed for crude creatures like them - and stepping closer to you as if he meant no offense, and you wed him willingly. "We won't hurt you."

"Sure," you whispered as you watched the dark-haired orc licking his tusks as he stared directly at your naked chest. It was cruel of them to pretend to be kind, but they were orcs. Cruel was what they were. "You gonna tear me apart, and I will die."

"What? No, no!" The orc protested immediately as you took a step back, shivering, your arms aching from the rope. "We will prepare you properly before doing anything. It won't hurt, I swear!"

Yes, sure. As if they cared about your well-being, dragging you here like a sac, not listening to you wailing while you plead for your life until your throat started to hurt.

The other male narrowed his eyes at you, visibly irritated, before advancing at you and holding you by the arm. You flinched, your eyes on the ground not to provoke him further. You'd probably die if he decided to punch you. "You humans think anyone different from you is a monster, but, unlike you, we never marry a woman to abuse her. You'll be fine, stop trembling like a mouse."

The hot touch of his rough, work-weary hand only made you shake harder. They were two scary, scary creatures, and you could do nothing to protect yourself, naked and bound, alone in the caves full of orcs who treated you like a child's toy. Nothing good was gonna happen to you here. It was bad enough to be kidnapped, but kidnapped by monsters...

You didn't even feel it when tears welled up in the corners of your eyes. Again.

"Please don't hurt me," you mumbled, afraid to raise your eyes to your captors, your knees trembling.

The orcs looked at each other silently, and the blonde one shook his head, sending his friend a sad smile. The other one softened his grasp on your arm then, gently guiding you to the bed with his other hand caressing your back. "We won't, little girl. I promise, it won't hurt at all."

He waited until you landed on the bed with an anxious look on your face and gestured to the several little bottles on a nightstand you haven't seen before, the other orc opening one of them and pouring some sort of oil on his hand. "Look, all of this is to make you feel better. We'll oil you well before doing anything, and magic will help. It won't hurt even a second. It's your mating night, it's for your and our pleasure."

He nodded to his friend who eagerly spread the thick herbal substance between his huge palms, and the man landed on his knee, taking your feet and massaging the oil into the skin. For a second you shivered, expecting something weird to happen, but you felt nothing except warmth slowly spreading beneath orc's fingers. It was... alright. He wasn't beating you into submission, at least.

"See? We'll put it all over your body, and you'll feel fantastic," the fair-haired male sent you a reassuring smile, pouring the oil directly on your skin, massaging it into your feet and going up as you stared at him, dumbfounded. He was really giving you a massage, an orc who kidnapped you and forced you to marry him just a couple of hours before. "Bucky, help me, please."

You stared at them, unsure, when they both put themselves of their knees in front of you, each taking your foot in their hands and slowly rubbing in the oil. It was still scary to let those huge men, almost complete strangers, touch you, but at least they weren't actively trying to rape or punch you. Strange, you thought, nervously biting your already hurting lips as you watched them giving you a simple massage, their callous thumbs gently drawing circles on your skin. You'd never thought they would prostrate themselves before a human woman they abducted and married against her will. Why were they doing it? Why bother about what you felt? They clearly didn't care for your consent before, so why?

The more oil they used, the less cold you felt, you came to realize as orcs rubbed your unbound hands and shoulders with care, their breathing deep, calm as if they weren't aroused by your naked body. You could almost believe them if you didn't see their cocks bulging beneath the fabric of their pants. Instantly panicking, you raised your eyes to the ceiling to avoid looking there, and they softly rubbed your wrists where it hurt the most from the ropes.

No, they said they wouldn't abuse you. Surely, there was no reason to lie to you? They could have already taken what they wanted, there was no need to coax you into mating with them. It would still feel good for them even if they tore you apart. Instead, they kept spreading this strange magical essence, making sure you were all covered in it, their hands travelling to your shoulders and stomach as they kept rubbing your skin glistening from oil.

It almost felt nice, especially Bucky's arms on your belly. All of a sudden the dark-haired orc you were so scared of turned out to be really affectionate with you, his hands massaging your tummy tenderly but not going lower as he stood on his knees in between your thighs, his friend sitting on the bed behind your back, his fingers softly rubbing below your shoulder blades. It felt good. Serene. The orcs seemed almost disarming now. Was it the magic of the oil? It must have been. But weren't you supposed to feel hot by now? You thought the oil definitely contained some form of an aphrodisiac, considering they were going to bed you, anyway. But you just felt calm and nice, and it didn't make you want to jump on their cocks.

"I thought you'd put something arousing in there," you admitted as Bucky put his hands on your hips, and the other orc, Steve, chuckled. "So that I'd do it with you."

"We don't need any sex potions to arouse you. This oil is to make you relax. Doesn't it feel nice now?" he whispered into your ear gently, his hands cupping your breasts. "You'll be soft and warm, that's all you need to feel pleasure. Now please spread your thighs for Bucky, he has to put this oil inside you, and you won't feel pain at all when we bed you."

Letting your body relax and lean on Steve's chest for support, you slowly spread your legs for Bucky, and he generously poured magic oil onto his palm before covering your crotch with it, his thick fingers rubbing your lower lips and your clit as you exhaled loudly, turning your eyes to the ceiling. It was better now. Maybe you hadn't wed them willingly, but they treated you far better than you expected. Now you believed they weren't going to tear you apart, and you let out a sigh of relief, tears finally falling down your cheeks before Bucky gently wiped them away, his fingers caressing your face as you stared at his soft, warm expression.

Your breasts were already slick with oil, too, but Steve was still massaging them, pressing his thumbs in your nipples, rubbing them in between his thick fingers so that they became puffy and started to itch. Soon it felt really good when he pinched and tugged them a little, leaving nice little kisses behind your ear.

When Bucky slipped his fingers inside your already leaking pussy, you were kissing Steve then who stuck his longue, thick tongue down your throat. It took just a little fingering till you cummed nicely, Bucky's hand slick with your juices as you moaned, your lower belly pleasantly hot. You cummed two more times once your orcs started eating your holes out, their lovely tongues reaching every right place as you orgasmed with your legs spread wide, your knees trembling. Yes, it felt really nice now when Bucky's tongue pressed that spongy spot inside you, and you cummed on his face.

When you let out a moan again, Bucky left a loving kiss on your crotch tattoo gleaming softly in the dark. "That's a good girl. See, told you it would feel nice."

You caressed his thick, coarse dark hair absent-mindedly, "It's because you didn't put your horse cocks in me. They're too huge."

You heard Steve snickering as he hugged you from behind, his pulsing member rubbing your lower back. "Horse cocks, baby? That's a very nice thing to say."

Bucky smiled at that, his fingers on your aching clit, "Don't worry, the oil is working. Now we can breed your cunt, and you'll feel real good, kitten. I bet you'd ride me first thing tomorrow morning."

"Doubtful," you murmured before Steve turned your face to him and made you open your mouth, his tongue licking yours as his cockhead teased the tight ring of your muscles, slowly penetrating your ass.

Bucky was getting as much impatient, his monstrous cock sliding with ease in your pussy while you let out a sigh: it felt so good, just as they said it would. They were warm and strong and gentle, and even their cocks felt right once they started moving in one rhythm, stretching your holes. Your pussy had been tiny for Bucky's member thick as your arm, but now when his cockhead kissed your cervix, you just cummed a little, your pussy spasming and clenching around a nice, thick cock. Having Steve fuck your ass was even more bizarre idea, and yet it didn't hurt either. On the contrary, when his cock was rubbing against Bucky's, separated just by the back wall of your vagina, you orgasmed again with your eyes rolling inside your skull.

Fuck, that was it. You needed to mate. You wanted your holes full of orcs' seed to consummate your marriage and have them fucking you whenever you wanted. Wouldn't it be nice? It'd be so lovely if you could just stroke their cocks whenever you felt like fucking, and they'd sandwiched you between their bodies like now. You imagined walking up to Bucky and just getting your panties down, showing off your aching pussy to have him hammer his cock in you immediately. Or perhaps complaining to Steve that your empty cunt hurt, and you needed his thick, fat cum to feel better. Surely, it would be lovely to have them constantly use their cocks to please you.

You were cumming your brains out. You couldn't even count how many times you orgasmed already, the orcs changing angles and poses to have you on cloud 9. They were talking to you - Steve said something about the restriction to cum in your mouth unless you got knocked up, but Bucky assured him you were getting pregnant real soon - but you couldn't say much with your brain switched off. Now you could only think with your pussy. Sure, why not get pregnant with little orclings? Your orc husbands said they'd keep fucking you, anyway. They'd be so proud of you with your tattoo getting bigger, showing you were knocked up with orcs' seed, a sweet little slut with monster babies in your belly. Your orc husbands would fuck you as much as you wanted them if that happened, they promised to you as your pussy started spasming again, the tip of Bucky's cock kissing your cervix.

"I think it's time," Steve licked his lips, slowly taking his cock our of your ass while you moaned in protest. "Shhhh, baby. We have something special for you."

The other orc smirked, pulling out his member, too, his tip rubbing your drenched lower lips until Steve's cock joined him. You opened your eyes right away.

"It can't be," you said, your voice hoarse as you stared Steve in the face. "You're joking."

"No, baby, you're ready to take us both," he murmured, squeezing your perky nipples as his cockhead penetrated your cunt, Bucky's member entering your poor leaking hole at the same time, stretching it enourmously. "We have to end the mating ceremony like that, fucking you in one hole. Look how good you're taking us."

You stared with horror at your bulging belly, their cocks stretching you so much it looked like you were already pregnant. Shit, why did it feel so good to have them in your cunt together? These too monstrous, barbaric cocks pounding your sweet human pussy, soiling it with their dirty cum, forcing you to bear them babies... Could you ask them to do it more? To have their cocks in you every day? Bucky said something about you riding him tomorrow, right? You could do that. You could milk his horse cock till he emptied his balls in you. And you could suck Steve off real good, regardless of the taboo. You were definitely gonna get knocked up today, why waiting when you could give him a great blowjob with your tight throat?

Shit, two monster cocks abusing your cervix felt so fucking good.

Yeah, you were gonna make babies with them. You were gonna let your orcs have you where they wanted you if you got to command them to fuck you whenever you wanted to.

"A nice creampie for you, baby, for being so good to us," Bucky murmured into your lips, kissing you as your belly grew bigger with his and Steve's seed filling your baby room. "Look, your tattoo is already glowing. Congratulations on becoming an orc mama, you sweet slut."

____________

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki   ​@helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @navegandoaciegas @rosalynshields @sllooney @angrythingstarlight @lookiamtrying @buckysbunny @soleil-dor @dillybuggg @literate-lamb @cosicas-cuquis @sarge-barnes-sir @buckybarnesplumwhore @jaysayey @megzdoodle @gotnofucks @lux-ravenwolf @biiskuitx @stupendouslovegardener @melodierin @yeolliedokai @what-is-your-wish @lou-la-lou @gachawipes133 @eralen @eclecticpatrolroadlawyer

[dark-and-kawaii]

This is for Zevlor mostly because he’s such a fucking knight. Like he drinks respect women juice as though he’ll die without it. Give him a woman who loves having her ass grabbed/spanked. They’re in the heavy make out stage of sex or whatever and maybe he’s lost in the moment. He gives the booty a strong squeeze or maybe his tail swings around and spanks her. He totally didn’t do it consciously and he’s about to start stammering apologies but she just moans and starts whining for him to do it again. She was fairly in control but now she’s a squirming mess for him.

“Zevlor drinks respect women juice”

Leopard you are sooooooo right and this is such a true statement!!! Ughhhh when Zevlor stood up for Tav when Aradin ran his mouth I basically creamed my pants!!!

FUUUUUUUUU~ PLEASE YOU ARE GLOWING WITH THIS ALL!!!! Because yes!!!! *shakes your hand* My god Leopard you have me a mess right now and so inspired!!! Thank you for coming into my ask box and dropping this beautiful- marvelous ask!!!! I salute you and love you!!!

You’d be standing there in his embrace, enjoying the intimate moment only to feel Zevlor’s tail swish behind you- whacking you on your bare ass. His mouth covering yours suppresses your startled cry, but fuck did you enjoy that. He breaks the kiss to apologize, but as he pulls away he sees how you start to crumble in his arms. How your thighs are rubbing together as your slickness coats your inner thighs. Hells, and your mouth- it’s parted, drool dripping down your chin, your eyes glossed over as your flushed face stares up at him.

“Z~Zevy need it ah~ again~ ♡” You whimper, desperate for more of him, desperate to feel used by him, like a whore who needs to be punished.

Zevlor didn’t think his cock could get any harder but gods you were making it a challenge.

His nostrils flare as his nose twitches, scenting you as he looks you over, drinking in your submissive form before him.You were practically a puddle in his hands all because his damn tail had a mind of his own. But he could not deny you his precious little delight. Pulling you to his chest roughly, “ah~ ♡~” his much larger hands wrap around you grabbing fistfuls of your ass, his nails digging into your soft flesh, his claws threatening to rip into your skin….

“Fu’ZEVLOR~ ♡♡!!!” He was kneading and pawing at your ass like a madman, squeezing and pulling and groping- you were a moaning mess. Hoisting you up he presses your back against the wall, his hand cupping your ass while the other grabs a fistful of your hair, forcing you to look him in the eyes.

You didn’t think this old hellrider still had this in him, but you were thankful nonetheless.

Soon he had you bent and pressed against whatever he could find, his nails and hands never leaving your plump ass as his tail came down upon it hard. You’d have tail shaped bruises and welts come morning. But that’s okay, because you knew your Zevy would kiss each one. His hands caressing the marks he left until you were soaking wet once more.

[nica-my-beloved]

Ikemen Men In Ikemen Series

(Ikepri, Ikevil, Ikegen)

Businessmen

Sueharu: "I love women."

Silvio: "Women are bitches."

Jude: "Women should be respected!"

The Kings

Gilbert: "I'm a King."

Akihito: "Me too."

William and Elbert: "So are we"

Poster bois

Leon: "Ofc that's me."

Yoritomo: "Originally it's me, but my brother gets more spotlight from fans."

William: "I'm a poster boi as well."

Leon and Yoritomo: (Why does he have white hair?)

Tsun Tsun bois

Yves: "Want some cake?"

Shigehira: *Ahem* "Not like I'm dying to eat it or anything. But since you asked, as a decent person I'll have some.......Mm....Ahhh, it's so delicious"*starry eyed*

Yves: *blushes* "Hey! Stop making that face! As if you're enjoying my cooking!"

The ZzzzzzZ

Luke: ".....zzz....Honey...."

Yoichi: "....zzz..Young..zzz...master..."

Harrison: ".....zzz....Liam...."

That guy

Nokto: "Hey, how is that girl!?"

Jin: "Yeah. She's cute but the boobs aren't big enough."

Sueharu: (At least I'm decent than these two-----Ah! Yoshino's boobs!)

Best big brothers

Luke: "I'm younger than Emma but I still treat her like my younger sister."

Harrison: "I'm not even a big brother type. I simply got added here because Kate thinks I am one.

Morinaga: "I want to see Yoshino as my little sister but I can't help it. I get these indecent thoughts about her sometimes."

Luke and Harrison: "You need help."

The most beautiful ones

Azel: "Hah. I'm a god. Of course I'm the most beautiful."

Tamamo: *flips his hair* "Hmph. Well I lived here for more than 800 years. I'm the most beautiful one."

Elbert: "..............................."

Alfons: "Lord Elbert. No." <- not included in this category, just came here to avoid potential murder.

The babies

Luke: "Believe it or not, I'm the youngest prince."

Ellis: "Nice to meet you guys too. I'm the youngest villain."

Shigehira: (Wow...they are so tall and...those muscles...)

Someone from the audience: "Don't worry Shigehira, Yoshino still loves you."

Shigehira: *blushes* "Shut up!"

The unreasonable brats

Kurama: *points his fan* "Hey! Give me everything you're wearing right now. Yes, those shiny necklaces, bracelet, rings and also the shiny items in this room. Actually, give me your whole palace. Give it all."

Silvio: "Huh!? Who the hell are you? A thief?"

Kurama: "How dare you call me a thief. Do you wanna die you bling bling covered sleazeball?"

Silvio: "Who the fuck told you that name!!?"

Kurama: "Hm? A girl looking like a brown rabbit."

Silvio: "That bitch! I'm gonna kill her for sure!"

The most loved ones

Yoshitsune: "I don't know why everyone loves me. They say I have a very innocent personality but I don't understand."*cutely tilts his head*

Jude: "I'm most popular because everyone here likes to be choked for some reason." *rests his head on his fists looking bored*

Gilbert: "Well, I'm here because I'm so handsome and everyone falls down on their knees as soon as they see me."

Yoshitsune: "Why is that?"

Jude: "Obviously because-----forget it. I was paid by a blonde guy to not taint your mind."

Chevalier: *ignoring all of them because he's listening to an audiobook*

The villains

Ibuki: "I heard you love manipulating people for fun."

Gilbert: "I heard that about you too. Looks like we're...."

Ibuki and Gilbert: "Kindred spirits" *fist bumps*

Ibuki: "I have a kid."

Gilbert: "I have raised a kid too."

Ibuki: "I have tried manipulating the evil fox princess to break her heart."

Gilbert: "I too have tried tainting little rabbit's heart."

Ibuki and Gilbert: "But I failed."

Ibuki and Gilbert: "........!"

Ibuki and Gilbert: "Hahahahaha!"

[shesjustanothergeek]

His Love

|Aegon II Targaryen x Fem!Reader|

Part Five

Master List of Series

Summary: Being a bastard born in the slums of Flea Bottom was all you were known for. Not the streak of white you had in your dark hair, the violet ring around your pupils, or how your sharp tongue and skills with the blade resembled your father, Daemon Targaryen. You were just a bastard, nothing more, but to him, to Aegon Targaryen, you were everything. You were his love.

Author's Note: I appreciate your support as this story progresses. Make sure to check every two weeks for an update! Honestly, if it weren't for you, I wouldn't have continued this story because it's just so messed up, but even so, thank you once again.

Chapter Warnings: Larys Strong jump scare

"Let me out of here!" You screamed, pounding on the guest chamber doors. "What is wrong with you, people? You have no reason to keep me here!"

Ma must have been worried to death by now, scowering across Kings Landing and pulling any strings she could. How had you been so stupid? So immature to follow a strange man that could put you in chains if he so wished. Ma was right. She had always been right about everything, and you were too caught up in your selfish desires to see it.

Aegon was a sick and twisted man. A vile, wretched, disgusting creature to ever be blessed by The Mother. You slammed your fists into the solid wooden doors as you felt pain radiate up your arms, willing them to burst open. You refused to sit ideally and become Aegon's plaything. You slept in a room next to the women who were, seeing what men like him do.

You were unashamed by the tears that streaked your cheeks, the snot that ran down your lip, and the back of your throat. Anyone being kept as a High-Born prisoner would feel the same way.

You couldn't wrap your mind around it-- around everything that had happened in the past days. Your absent father coming to pay you a visit, the heated argument with Ma, Aegon whisking you away for a night of fun and debauchery.

Nothing made sense. You were the daughter of a dead whore and a loafer, raised by a brothel madam on the streets of Flea Bottom. The Targaryen madness people gossiped about must be true; Aegon was proof of it.

The fight refused to die out, kicking at the doors as your sore arms shook. Your leathered foot nearly collided with a man as the doors opened, his cane stopping you. You were stunned, not expecting to have your freedom given to you so soon, but that hope did not last long as they locked behind your guest.

"Who are you," you questioned the limp man heatedly, ready to throw hands at any moment.

"Forgive me, my lady," he bowed, his body leaning onto his intricate stick. "I am Lord Larys of House Strong," he answered politely as if he were speaking to royalty.

"You say that as if it means something to me," you quipped. Lord Strong walked further into your prison chambers, tired from standing so long and resting on a plush armchair. He smiled as he sat, inviting you to the one opposite him, but your feet stood planted, arms crossed.

"I do not expect it to, my lady. Being the younger, unimportant brother of House Strong is not a trait many people consider to be remarkable." He spoke in riddles as if he knew something you didn't and was proud of it, disdain hidden within his messages.

"You are Ser Harwin 'Breakbones' brother," you said more for yourself than anything.

"Yes, my late brother," he answered, bowing his head in respect. He showed all the proper body language of someone in mourning, but you could not hear a whisper of sadness. You tilted your head, stepping closer to him but leaving enough room away from his cane if need be.

"Ah yes," you smiled mirthfully, squinting your eyes as you studied him. "Your sudden inheritance of Harrenhal must have come as quite a shock. Your poor family finally meeting the Stranger. But how fortunate for you, I suppose."

If it were any other circumstance, speaking to a Lord as this would end with a flogging, perhaps a missing tongue, to ensure you never made the same mistake again. But this was nothing of the ordinary.

He chuckled sarcastically, shifting his cane as he shook his head. Lord Larys was not a man to be trusted. He embodied everything your fellow common folk poked fun at during the drinking hour. He had a pompous attitude, like he knew more than everyone around him, with elegant dark clothing and short, well-trimmed hair. The only difference was that he did not seem one for gossip and parties. You assumed it was because of his deformity, nobles not wanting to be around such a "cripple."

Lord Larys didn't need a sword or army to conquer his enemies. He only need a few moments within the conversation background, a few slips of secrets into one's ear to cause chaos. That was what made him dangerous.

"I enjoy your sense of humor," he laughed, looking underneath his lashes at you, "it reminds me greatly of someone I know. Perhaps you will meet him soon." He laughed again, a joke you were not in on.

"Speak plainly, Lord Strong; I tire of your games."

Oh, you so greatly reminded him of that certain someone.

He hummed, slouching back into the chair and lifting his lousy leg to cross over the other. "I know your stay here in the Red Keep is not voluntary," he began, and you rolled your eyes. "I wanted to be the first to speak with you. Become a sort of confidant, my lady."

"I have no need to align myself with you. You have nothing of value," you quipped, pacing to sit in the chair across from him. The man was intelligent. He could read body language like a traditional Westerosi book, writing notes in the margin of his mind for later,

"Then, let me be the first to water our newly planted friendship," Lord Larys grinned, looking away for a moment as he thought of his next word carefully. "You wish to know why you are being kept here, yes?" You refused to answer, only scowling at his smug figure.

"They believe you are the bastard child of Prince Daemon Targaryen," said plainly. You threw your head back in a laugh as your hands went to your beating chest.

"You wish to start our friendship with a lie? Men are truly unbelievable." You shook your head as your mind returned to the King's eldest son. "Did Aegon put you up to this?" You asked suddenly, not finding the humor in this anymore.

"Of course not, my lady. Do you genuinely believe I would lie to you? I, a man at a significant disadvantage, am begging for the allyship of a Princess. As a young girl being thrown into a den of vipers, surely you would want a knife to cut off the heads?"

"Not when the very hand who gave it to me was one of them. The hilt laced with poison." Lord Larys stood, using his cane for support as he slowly made his way over to you, his lips in a tight purse.

"I do hope you consider my offer. It would be advantageous for us both to become allies, not enemies."

His words hung in the thick air, an ominous feeling sinking into your stomach as he left the room, the door latching behind him. He only left you more confused, your heart nearly beating out of your chest as you tried the door one more time.

You were the daughter of Daemon Targaryen, his firstborn, his bastard with black hair and brown eyes, the child of a dead whore, a member of House Targaryen.

You were a dragon born of fire and blood.

You should have been running around the marketplace this time of day, stealing until your pockets bulged with fruits as the City Watchmen struggled to keep up with you, but instead, you sat in the great armchair inside a gilded cage, staring out of the pane-glass windows.

You never imagined yourself as someone who would miss the foul stench of small folk in high summer, but here you sat, your chin resting on your hand as your nose was filled with the sick smells of amber and ash. To those who were not trapped in the palace, they would welcome the scents, but you, it only made your head hurt.

You needed to return home and find some way to escape these impenetrable stone walls, chisel teeth, and nails if necessary, but what would happen once you returned home? You were still in Kings Landing, where they could easily find you. Perhaps Essos or the North, where you could find your mother's family? They still had jurisdiction over the areas, but if you were far enough away...

The doors burst open without warning, a guard in armor you had not seen before marching into your elegant cell. He bowed his head, raising an arm across his breastplate as he announced your small gaggle of handmaids' arrival, leaving without another word.

You stared at them blankly, partially because you were still upset about being confined to this room and partly because you had no idea what to say. They saw you as royalty and not some common girl, treating you with respect someone of your raised status was not accustomed to.

"My name is Sara, your grace," she curtsied. Her voice matched her appearance. Seemingly around your age, with fair skin and pale blue eyes that starkly contrasted against her brown hair, a slight tremble in her hands. Their arms were full of extravagant dresses.

You still sat, blinking at them with no expression as Sara shifted the heavy gowns from one limb to the other. You were still determining what she wanted as the lack of conversation became awkward.

"May I sit your dresses on the bed, my lady," she asked quietly. You felt pity. What had this girl experienced to become so... small?

"Will they fit?" You decided to say, finally leaving your seat.

"I pray so," Sara said, seeming to be the pack's leader. A red-haired girl smiled slightly and looked at the thick pile they had carried through the many floors of the Red Keep.

High fashion was gaudy. You ran your fingertips over the fabrics, feeling an array of cotton, wool, and silk of every color imaginable. You sorted through the piles out of curiosity and not because you wanted to see the fruits of the Targaryen's coin. It must have been Aegon's doing, getting you so many dresses.

Indeed they would not look through the wardrobes of the royal family for just a bastard. You could feel Sara's eyes on your back, taking note of the white streak in your hair as you grimaced at a hideous red dress.

One dress, thank the Seven, was not entirely terrible. You made no move to indicate you liked the creamy bronzed gown, its enchanting tan designs glimmering in the candlelight, its sleeves cut halfway down the arm, and wrists flowing with an accent of fabric.

It was alright, you thought, moving the other heavy materials away.

"Beautiful choice, your grace," a girl who had yet to speak complimented, grabbing it and quickly taking you behind a decorated partition as the others hurried out of the room. She grabbed the laces of your dress, untieing them without a second thought. You gasped, raising onto the tips of your toes as you attempted to gather purchase.

"My Gods what in the Hell do you eat? You are stronger than half the Kings army!" You nearly fell backward as she yanked the threads out of their holes.

"My apologies, your grace. I did not mean to hurt you," she said in a rushed tone, dragging your dirty clothes to the floor. "We have a bath drawn for you, and I do not want the water to get chill."

You heard the several other maids return, their footfalls sounding shuffled as a loud 'thump' vibrated the floor. You peeked around the partition as the redhead attempted to comb through your knotted hair, the brass teeth catching on one.

Once nearly half of your dark hair was pulled from your scalp and you naked as a babe, she ushered you to a round wooden tub, vapors rising above the water. With your mouth agape, she removed your dirty smock, and two other women helped you in. You could have laid there for hours, inhaling the relaxing smell of Clarey Sage and Lavender as they scrubbed the sweat and oil from your skin.

Unbeknownst to you, another person also enjoyed your bath, observing how the woman rinsed your hair. Aegon wished it was him kneeling beside the tub, watching the water drip down your neck and into the pool, rubbing oils over your delicate breasts. He watched from the crack in a secret passageway as they helped you, wrapping a thick cotton towel around your damp body. He sipped at a goblet he brought with him, the cool Arbor Red sliding down his throat. Not even his favorite drink could quench his thirst as he watched you ready.

Your handmaid ushered you to a vanity, rich mahogany with intricate designs carved into the wood. One brushed your damp hair, as the others laid out some cosmetics. A fine white powder dusted onto your face with a puff to get rid of any shine, crushed rose petals mixed with animal fat to create a balm, and a subtle rouge on your cheeks.

You had not realized how much effort went into becoming presentable with nobility. The most you had ever done was do a washing once a week with the other ladies of the house. Your face felt heavy as if they had rubbed soot onto your skin, but what you saw in the mirror looked as if nothing had changed. Though you had a light flesh-toned powder, redder cheeks, and stained lips, you still looked like you. Your natural features enhanced, and you felt like a... royal. Like you truly were born of Targaryen descent.

"Why am I dressing like this, Sara?" You asked, eyes downcast as a blonde servant braided your hair, staring at your white streak of hair.

"You will meet Prince Daemon soon, and he will escort you to dinner." You turned to face Sara as she compared different pieces of jewelry. The blonde yanked your head back in place as she continued.

You hadn't realized how hungry you were until Sara mentioned the prospect of food, your stomach suddenly feeling its emptiness. But once you processed you were going to see your father, the man Madam had kept you from all your life, nausea replaced it. You were glad you had not eaten today.

"It is nothing to worry about, my lady," the blonde said. You looked at her through the mirror, unconvinced. "My name is Caldia. I have served the Targaryens for many years now, and if I have learned one thing, it's that if Her Highness Princess Rhaenyra tells the Prince to do something, he will listen."

You weren't sure what that meant but didn't question her, nervously biting your red lip as she pinned the braids to your head.

Aegon wanted a better view of you, but he could only if he made himself known. His imagination was crazy with thoughts of what you looked like. What dress did you choose? Was it the color green? What hairstyle did you wear? Was your jewelry the pointed star of the Seven?

It was odd for him to be wondering such things. He never much cared for religion, let alone women's fashion; he was more focused on what lay underneath. He took another sip from his cup, a few dribbles spilling down his chin.

Caldia put her hands on your shoulders and gave you an encouraging smile as Sare put a silver bracelet on your wrist. "I am frightened," you confessed as you stood, wrapping your arms around your torso.

The four women, now yours to command, exchanged nervous glances. They knew about as much as you and could offer no words of comfort. Not one to let people suffer, Sara grabbed your hand and leaned close to your ear.

"Madam has eyes everywhere. Just give her time," she whispered. You wanted to gasp but held it back, not wanting to make any other girls suspicious.

Eyes were everywhere in the Red Keep.

Two Kingsguard stood stiff at their post outside Prince Daemon's chambers, watching you with expectant eyes, breathing deeply. The bodice of your borrowed dress constricted your chest, frying your nerves. You pulled a piece of loose skin with your teeth, feeling the soft trickle of blood into your mouth as you gave the men a curt nod.

The doors opened with a loud clang of metal and a groan of wood, revealing what seemed to be a dark empty room lit only by a fire out of view. They did not announce your arrival. There was no need. The Rogue Prince was expecting you as his chamber doors shut.

You walked further in, your leather shoes tapping on the hard floor, as you saw a lithe man standing at the hearth. It was Prince Daemon; there was no one else it could be as you heard him sigh and lean against the fireplace. You were moments away from meeting your father, to a man you only knew by name. Neither of you spoke, you observing the stranger and him watching the flames.

"They say I am your daughter," you spoke with a small amount of courage. "That you are my father. But how can they claim a man who I have never met be called my father?" Though they were calm, there was a hint of malice behind your words.

You heard him snicker as he turned to you, a smirk on his face, still leaning on the hearth.

"Come," he said, inviting you to watch the dancing orange flames contained by metal. "Who is your mother?"

"My mother is dead." Daemon pursed his lips, shifting. "But her name was Elaina Black." The hole that she left still bleeds, even years later.

"How did she die," he asked, eyes never leaving their spot.

"In childbirth. A few weeks after I was born."

You couldn't read his emotions, his face blank but contemplative. A man this quiet did not fit the title of Rogue Prince.

"Come," Daemon said again, leaving his spot and going to a small table with a metal box. He flipped the latch, revealing a deep blue velvet lining, a necklace, and a matching pair of earrings. The onyx-colored jewels reflected like a lake, a midnight pool encased in steel.

You were speechless. This was the first time you had received a gift such as this. Your mouth hung open as word failed. Daemon motioned you to turn so he could clasp the necklace, the black crystals contrasting your soft, creamy dress.

"What is it," you questioned, gently stroking the fine accessories, still trying to remember your manners.

You could form no thoughts, no words other than what was expected of you. "It is zīrtys perzys, Dragon Glass, gathered from the mines of your home, Dragonstone. And Valyrian steel, some lasts of its kind."

Your home

"Thank you, Prince Daemon. This gift..." you struggled to form a sentence. "Is the greatest gift I have ever received." You spun, doing an awkward mix of a bow and curtsy. The jewelry was extravagant like all royal fashion was, yet tasteful, even if it didn't match your attire.

"No need for that. You are a Targaryen; we bow to no man except the King," he proclaimed, briskly walking to the exit.

You stood there confused. That was it? No questions or apologies for abandoning you?

"That is it, then," you exclaimed before you could catch it. "No apologies for the years of believing my father did not love me enough to visit? To raise me as any good man should?" Prince Daemon turned around, standing in a defensive but relaxed stance as you stormed over to him. "No condolences for the loss of a mother? For the loss of a family?"

"You have been brought to me now. That is all that matters."

Your face scrunched up in confusion, gesturing your hands in a stop motion and shaking your head. High-Borns were really that emotionally stunted.

"That is not all that matters, Prince Daemon. Do you have no concerns about how your child was raised? If I am even your child," you added, done with the treatment you have received from these Targaryen men. If this was how they all acted, you wanted no part.

"I am your father, and you are my bastard. This discussion is finished," he declared, finally letting some anger slip through his facade.

"Why," you yelled, going closer to him, "how do you know? How do you know?"

"Because I have always known! I have always known that there were bastards of mine running around Flea Bottom!" He charged towards you, grabbing you by your biceps with the strength of ten men, shaking you as a vein popped from his forehead. "You are the only one who has lived long enough to claim the title publicly!"

You settled, fear replacing anger at the implication.

"You... You murdered your own children?" Daemon said nothing, his face red as he stared. 

It all made sense now. Why Ma did what she did, why she hid you from everyone, why your entire life was spent smothered into her bosom, it wasn't simply her being overprotective. She was saving you from death, from the man who gave you an extravagant present, from the man who went from being aloof to screaming, from the man who stood right in front of you.

Your father could not be as vile as him. You wanted the hands of this filicidal maniac gone.

You grimaced, mustering all the saliva you could and spitting it on the Rogue Prince's cheek. Why would he hesitate with you if he already called so many of his kin?

He let go, and you scrambled out of the way, not wanting to face his wrath.

Instead of being met with the sharp blade of Dark Sister, you heard a laugh. A genuine and honest laugh.

Daemon had a pleased look on his pale face, the same look Lord Strong gave you hours earlier but smug. He knew what to say to boil your dragon blood because you were the same as all of the true Targaryens.

"You're a mad man!" You shouted, looking frightened.

"You are my child," he declared, sauntering over to clap a hand on your shoulder. "Enough with this fun. Let us eat. I have gown rather hungry." 

You had a sense of Deja Vu before the wide entrance of the dining hall, only this time, you were not alone. Next to you was your supposed father. You chewed on your lip nervously, pulling the thin scab that covered your marks from earlier. 

So many things were left unanswered you had no idea where to begin.

Your mother was a prostitute; how could he be sure? How did he not know she was pregnant? That is not an easy thing to hide. How many brothers and sisters did you potentially have, was Daemon the monster Ma believed him to be, and who was watching you now, ready to report back to her?

"This is unnerving," you decided to say, not brave enough to voice your questions yet. He snorted, his eyebrows raising for a moment before he shifted his weight and took your arm in his.

"It is unnecessary, but is that not all customs to those unaware?" You mimicked his expressions but turned your gaze down, retaking your lip between your teeth. "Stop that," he chided as a father would, and you obeyed. You couldn't help it; the feeling came as an instinct. 

Two guards opened the doors, and another from inside the dining room announced your presence to the family that sat upon the great table. As you walked arm-in-arm with Daemon, you became even more ridged than the crown's sworn protectors. 

Master List of Series

Sorry for the no smut in this chapter. Quite dull, actually, but we have to lay the ground before the real action can happen, baby. Also, this is the dress the MC is wearing, and the necklace and earrings Daemon gave her. :)

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Tagged Peeps: @zeennnnnnn, @malfoytargaryen, @targaryencore, @justasmallbean, @alexandra-001, @buckysmainhxe, @omgsuperstarg, @sommornyte, @minttea07, @silverslive, @unclecrunkle, @prettykinkysoul, @duesobabe, @djlexi, @ynbutbetter, @honestlykat, @graykageyama, @legolas017, @iiamthehybrid, @brezzybfan, @dd12004dd, @ladybug0095, @millies0bsimp, @kalfilit, @sheislonelyalways, @tempt-ress , @bellameshipper, @minttea07, @trikigirl271, @esposadomd, @buckylahey, @justarandomflowerchildofthenight, @partypoison00, @please-buckme

[verdemoun]

in response to this ask, kieran being reunited with his gang:

Arthur is always the victim of Kieran meeting people from his past. Typical day of accompanying Kieran on whatever adventure he has decided is his goal today. Outlaw hypervigilance goes off like spider-senses: there's someone tailing them.

Stalls a little, backtracks. Grabs the guy by the collar and draws fist back, because it's always better to be on the offense in a situation where you're unarmed. Guy immediately surrenders, acting too friendly with nervous energy squeaking about just wanting to see him.

Before Arthur chases him off Kieran's furrows his eyebrows, and takes a curious step forward. The guy lights up, looking through Arthur because 'sergeant! it really is you!'. Salutes despite Arthur still holding his collar, and Kieran very quickly urges Arthur to let go.

The fact Kieran is comfortable enough with the guy to actually talk is enough to make Arthur confused, hell even the guy (let's call him Declan) looks confused and slightly starstruck because Sergeant Duffy is actually talking to him, little old private so-and-so him. Fortunately Declan is a nervous rambler and the second Kieran tries to give a happy dismissive 'he was a member in my old gang! before...', Declan's right there to give Arthur allllll the tea.

The Army didn't just not 'work out' - Kieran was actually a sergeant in the cavalry in charge of a dozen or so officers. And needless to say, war is fucking shit. Down to three of his officers, trapped, watching those he had eaten meals with and considered comrades massacre Native American men, women and children indiscriminately meanwhile horses lay wounded and screaming as they died slowly on the battlefield, Kieran turned to his officers and gave the one word command they were 'dismissed'. Mounted his horse and ran the hell out of there - admittedly, running is a talent of his. Being deeply loyal idiots, they respected their sergeant for being an objectively good and uncharacteristically kind person. Despite his flat affect and quiet nature, they followed him like lost puppies.

Picking up stragglers and being good people when they could afford to be, Kieran accidentally became the leader of a fairly reputable gang in the north-east of the great plains. Being deserters, as well coach thieves, cattle rustlers and robbing the occasional bank, Former Sergeant Duffy leader of the 'Coward Gang' may have had a bounty on his head at least equal to that of Arthur's.

While Arthur is hanging onto Declan rambling like it's the best campfire story ever told because 'holy shit you really got a lot of origin stories Duffy', Kieran has reached for a cigarette which is one of the biggest red flags he can give that he is not okay. Because, inevitably, there comes the question of 'what happened'.

And, like seemingly every significant event in Kieran's life, the O'Driscolls happened. They came into camp late one night and overpowered those on guard duty by sheer number. Colm lost a good amount of boys in the process: they fought back hard but sometimes it is as simple as numbers. The O'Driscolls hogtied, lined up, and systematically slaughtered every single one of his gang before taking Kieran back to Hanging Dog Ranch for the 'blessed are the peacemakers' treatment. Despite timewarping, Kieran still has the scars.

After weeks of torment, when the option 'ride or die' came, Kieran knew his gang was dead. 'Die' wouldn't be fast: it would be selling him to Pinkertons for the bounty, more torment before death by public execution to make an example. So he went from sergeant to stableboy, not allowed to carry a weapon because Colm knew he would turn it on himself instead of living with the constant fear of being turned over to pinkertons and the sheer trauma of seeing his officers and friends, his first found family, murdered.

Not being allowed so much as a hoofpick, let alone a knife, Kieran grew a beard and let his hair grow long, almost unrecognizable from bounty posters of the clean shaven sergeant. Even if the VDLs had heard of him (which they hadn't - being from the west) they wouldn't know it was him. Kieran took the opportunity to become a nothing, because he desperately wanted to feel like nothing after being helpless to protect his gang.

But his whole gang is there, together because they died minutes, some mere seconds apart. They stuck together because that's what sergeant had always told them to do, and they were all doing okay! They were still living like a gang - having gutted a small 2 bedroom house and turned it into an open concept of exposed foundations, sleeping on mattresses around a wood burning stove that was both kitchen and campfire but they were all happy, and they were together, and they welcomed him back like a hero.

Kieran visits his old gang regularly but also doesn't want to impose on them because they've had a good few years to adjust to modern era and have their own lives, because unlike Dutch he feels awful that the mere association with him meant they were all wanted men and women and it lead to their demises.

His gang adore him though, and it's always awkward when they meet the VDLs because they will drop gang leader Kieran lore that makes him sound terrifying and awesome meanwhile they still just think 'aw kieran, our little horsegirl who collects stuffed toys and horse models..' and no amount of 'Kieran killed 8 lawmen at 500ft range in 15 seconds' would change that.

[augment-techs]

prompts based on lines from fanfics that hit different after the tenth read

Slayer, Slayer, Monster Killer//Into the den//A blazing Inferno//Defender of the Innocent

Cauterize the wound.

Blood quickly began to fill the water.

Blue tint surrounding the lips.

He'd take jazz over a symphony, rock over jazz, and a crazy buscar in the tube station creating something insane with a violin, a beat box, and a pedal drum over rock.

I also wrote a gay version, if anyone wants it.

The thinness of the shoulder bothered him.

The curse was simple but badly done; convoluted and too mixed up with his own energies to be easily removed.

"Your parents are fucked up. I'm serious, that's Fucked Up."

With a coat like blood. Like cherries. Like candy.

"...Correction...I might be bleeding."

It was the best protection he could give.

"I can't believe you just called your own behavior petty harassment."

Cleaner than he'd been in eight months.

"Go curse somebody else. He doesn't belong to you--you can't have him."

Never had to initiate a virgin before.

The thought was idle.

Imagine if you will...

"The game is over. Do you understand?"

He was pissing blood.

"You asked for respect, I'm giving it to you."

Too tired and weak to fight properly.

"I haven't felt any strong emotions since I was a kid."

"What color is the sky right now?"

"So they will be the same age. So they can have adventures."

"I'm done keeping secrets for you."

"Sure. Why not take away the last thing I have left."

'Pretend.' It rattles in his brain.

No wonder people talked.

"Although this totally explains why you were in love with me like once a year for three years in a row."

"No, I do not have a scrunchie."

He'd never been brave enough.

"It's basically a game of sexual preferences."

It wasn't the personality serum, but it was some form of mind control.

It had been so goddamn long since they had heard any sort of tune at all.

"It's one of my grounding techniques."

"Please. Never say anything like that again."

He was also good at being randomly, devastatingly kind.

"I bet I could pick you up. Wanna see if I can?"

"I will not elaborate."

Carefully lit gym thirst traps.

He bit his fist, dried his eyes, and didn't make a sound.

"Because I am through with you. You aren't worth the effort."

Sees them glimpsed in mirrors and reflective surfaces; and the newest ones most often.

"Thanks for letting me feel alright for a bit."

It was homemade, and heavy, and hurt.

"You're not afraid?"

It was just as well.

"If I planted something on him there's a chance it could get lost."

"You're too good for me."

"Please. I don't want you to disappear again."

With an awkward, coltish sort of grace that makes her look decades younger than she is.

'Strange' is a family trait.

"Just want to rest with you. This is good."

"I shot my dad when I was fifteen."

Refreshing. Invigorating--where the fuck are these words coming from?

"Go find a nice ditch to crawl into and die there, not on our floor."

"I'm used to the cold, darling. Don't worry. There are worse things to endure."

"They gave us twenty dollars for nothing."

"Amazing, for once, your remarkable ability to repulse and horrify women saves the day."

"...Okay, okay, don't look at me like that; I'm a huge asshole. But not in that way."

"Like organizing your pornography collection."

"I just need some time. Right now, I don't know what I'm feeling."

They started it out like the leads in a bad B Movie.

"I said that about Jaws. That movie was terrible by the way."

"You're still my first choice."

Three years in the womb.

To be honest, they'd expected to die.

Looking back on it now he felt like the biggest idiot for not realizing what a huge Red Flag that had been.

"You want to come with us?"

"Back then I didn't even know about consent."

"If my dad ever comes back from his 'business trip' you kill him and we're even."

They have no idea what their Tragic Backstory is, so they make up a new one every time someone asks.

Don't want to train today? Too bad, you either fight the giant centipede or DIE.

"They ain't that bad compared to some of the shit I've eaten."

"I hate being brainwashed. And mind controlled. And sold, and handled without asking, and...being a thing for people to have."

"The research I took to find the gag I was thinking of was very uncomfortable. No, Google, I don't want BDSM gags, please stop giving me that option."

"I have a room and extra blankets. You'd probably fit into a few of my shirts, too."

"You're not trying to burn my apartment down?"

'Oh. Oh, it's going to kill me.'

"You refuse to take a shot at Adolf Hitler because you are not a murderer."

"Because she totally didn't punch that guy to defend your honor, and you totally didn't swoon."

It's a perfectly common ingredient in a lot of cultures! There's blood pudding, blood soup, blood tofu--that's a real thing and it's delicious.

"Did you just make them tell us about their sexual awakening?"

It's red berry jam. It's not really blood at all. They just call it that to make their kids think they're tough blood-eating warriors.

"Now stop having a crisis about being an eldritch abomination."

And that's exactly why broken bones are a testament to their mercy.

"I've been gone a long time, haven't I?"

Seems like a normal breakfast, right?

They are not friends. And yet.

"They're innocent. They never asked for any of this."

"I thought you loved me, but you're just like everyone else."

The candies are always gone within a day.

Backpacking across the end of the world.

"I should be worth, like, at least two goats. Or even one of those cute mini pigs, maybe."

"Apparently I'm from the past and you're from the future."

"Well, I drove an ice cream truck and didn't die."

The common areas became populated with candles, dishes of salt near the doorways, little piles of pennies in crevices.

The small bruise they expected to see is not small at all. It's huge and almost black and it's spread against the entirety of the left side of the stomach.

"You mean because you beat the shit outta me? Nah. I've got a pretty high tolerance for getting beat up. Seems like I just end up friends with them, even when I lose my S/O to them."

[honeybeefae]

Be Happy For Me, Please. (Eris Vanserra x Reader)

Summary// The mortality rate for fae women giving birth was drastic, a stat that kept you up most nights ever since you found out you were expecting the future heir of the Autumn Court. Eris’s mother had reassured you countless times that you were strong enough, that the fire in your blood would keep you burning even in the darkest of times. But when the day arrived, and the darkness closed in…you couldn’t stop it.

(I wrote this and it is very personal to me. It was a reality that I was facing, and the only thing that helped me was turning my fear into something beautiful, something that hurt and relieved me all at the same time. I know this won’t be everyone’s cup of tea and I completely respect that. However, if you do like it, I hope it makes you feel as deeply as I did when I created it. That it leaves you with a pain that wants to turn into something awe-inspiring rather than soul-crushing. I love you guys.)

WARNINGS: Death, blood, angst, I mean heavy angst, but also hope and new beginnings

Another ear-splitting scream wrenched itself out of your throat as your stomach tightened painfully. Labor had started suddenly, your water breaking in the middle of breakfast, and seemed to be keen on staying throughout the night. 

Eris was out on a hunt with no known time of return. The healer and midwives had assured him that you were nowhere near ready to give birth and you had even pushed him to go, knowing things would soon change between the two of you. You had no idea what the babe in your stomach was brewing when you had sent him off.

“I can’t, I can’t do this any longer!” You wailed tearfully, fists gripping the sheets tightly as one of the healers pressed a cool cloth to your forehead. 

“My lady, everything will be okay, I swear it.” Lenear, the head healer, promised as he examined you once more. As another contraction hit and you threw your head back into the pillows, you missed the grave look on his face. “Have you called for his lordship yet, Kilen?”

Kilen, his assistant, nodded fervently. “As soon as it was confirmed she was laboring we did.”

“That was hours ago…she needs-” Lenear started to huff before the doors to the bedroom flung open. You blinked the tears away and saw the blurry shape of Eris’s mother, her hair tied back and dressed in plain clothes, rushing towards you.

“Oh, oh, my child,” She cooed, pushing away the sweat-soaked strands of hair around your face. “I’m sorry I did not come sooner.”

The presence of her calmed you quickly, focusing on the soothing tones of her voice that seemed to fade in and out. You tried to pay attention as she talked to the healer, noticing the edge of his tone, but it was so hard to piece it all together. 

Your fists curled tightly again as more pain electrified your body, your back almost arching off of the bed as you sobbed. With every contraction you could feel yourself growing weaker, your body just wanting to rest, and it was getting harder and harder to fight against that call. 

His mother must have noticed because one of her strong, soft hands cupped your face and turned you, so you were looking into her eyes. 

“Do not lose your fire, Y/N.” She commanded as if she herself could control your fate. The will in her eyes made you believe it, at least in your mind. “You are the fire within…don’t let it die out.”

Her words made you want to weep in frustration and love. If you could stop it, you would. You didn’t want to die. You didn’t want to leave this Earth, your mate, your child. It was everything you had ever wanted, and now that you were on the brink of having it, fate seemed to want to tear it away.

And what power did you have over that? What could you do to stop the will of the Mother?

The last question seemed to snap you out of the survival mode you were in, bringing you back to your body as you watched the healer pull away a blood-soaked rag. It was scarlet red, like the dying embers in a flame. 

It should have scared you, should’ve had you crying out for your mate and for the Mother to save you, but in what you once saw in fear you now saw in acceptance. You now saw the cards laid before you and knew this was the hand you were being dealt.

His mother watched you with furrowed brows, confused at your lack of reaction until you spoke clearer than you had since this started.

“Something is wrong.” You stated, raising up on your elbows as Lenear hesitated. “A choice must be made.”

“My lady, there are some newer practices we can try…” He replied though it did not sound firm nor hopeful. You knew he was just trying to make you feel better.

“Save them.” You said, leaving no room for arguments. “I will go, but you must save them, Lenear. Promise me.”

“I cannot make such a promise-” He began, but you were quick to silence him, sitting up completely as the blood continued to seep out. How you were able to do that, to ignore the pain that was prickling at your senses, you did not know. Even Eris’s mother was shocked as you restated your declaration.

“Save. Them.” You ordered, feeling that fire in your soul light anew. However it wasn’t for you to keep…it was for someone else, someone who you would hopefully meet one day in a field of flowers.

The doors once more slammed open and Eris stormed in, still in his hunting clothes. “What is going on? You had assured me she was fine, that I could leave, and-” He stopped dead in his rant when he saw the rags of scarlet red. “No, no, no…”

You could feel a strong urge to push as Eris rushed to your side, grasping your hand while looking you over for any other signs of distress. Lenear must have noticed as he started to bark out orders for his assistants, giving you one last look of doubt as you turned to look at your mate.

“Eris, my love,” You smiled, stroking the pad of your finger over his knuckles. “I’m afraid I must depart early from here. Please forgive me.”

“No, Y/N. You won’t, you can’t. Lenear has everything under control, and if not, I will do it myself.” He swore, wetness collecting in his eyes as you let out a small laugh before the urge grew again. You squeezed him tightly as you began to push, a warm light starting to fuzz around the edges of your eyes. “I can’t do this without you.”

“I will never leave you. Never, ever.” You whispered as the muffled sounds of people running and fretting ebbed in and out. “In the whispers of the leaves in the wind, the twinkle of the stars through the nursery window, even in the warmth of the fire, you will always find me.”

“My lord…” Lenear said worriedly, trying his best to stop the bleeding as you brushed away the tears falling down his face. 

“Please…” Eris said, calling on whatever higher power there was to either help you or take him instead. You took in a deep breath before turning to look at Lenear, nodding your head as you gave one final push. He caught the tiny baby with ease, immediately beginning to stimulate its back to try and get it to breathe.

You watched as your mate looked over to the baby, all sorts of emotions running across his face as the seconds passed by. The healer was no better, going between trying to help you and helping the baby, until you held your hands out shakily.

He hesitated for only a moment before handing them over, watching in awe as you cradled them to your chest and kissed their forehead with the gentleness only a mother could have.

“I love you, my sweet prince.” You cooed into the baby’s ear, feeling that fire in your soul starting to fade. You knew where it was going, that it had found its new home, and with a bittersweet smile you nuzzled his cheek and whispered, “I’ll always be with you.”

Eris’s eyes widened as the baby cried loudly, his skin turning pink and his arms flailing. He immediately scooped the tiny child into his arms, not even minding the blood as something in his heart broke and mended all at the same time.

The window beside him blew in a soft breeze as a sweet voice whispered, “Be happy for me, please.” before the fire in the hearth went out. He turned to look at you, coming back into focus on what was going on, but your eyes were closed, and you were sleeping peacefully. 

His son squirmed in his arms, opening his eyes momentarily and Eris was shocked to find the color was the same as yours. He brushed his thumb against the soft skin of his cheek and let his tears fall freely, bringing the boy tightly to his chest as the stars twinkled brightly above.

[klutzyroses]

Hiii! This is my first time making a request. I was wondering if you could write a fix where the MC (in Ilene Sengoku) stands up for herself instead of having the ML’s do it + Their reactions. I hope I’m not asking for too much. The situation in which she stands up for herself doesn’t have to be extremely specific (In other words you can make it up). Thank you!

I hope I've met your expectations anon~

IkeSen HC: Stand Up MC

How do they react to MC standing up for herself?

Suitors: Nobunaga, Ieyasu, Kenshin, Shingen

Nobunaga

You know he is impressed right from the beginning.

A woman as strong willed as she is noble, hm? She is quite the intrigue to him.

The amount of self respect she has heavily outweighs her fear of people above her and not allowing others to treat her however they wish is a trait most people lack around here, yet it is a characteristic he most closely identifies with her very quickly.

She proves herself very capable of knocking people down a couple of levels, even those most would be afraid to speak back to. She however shows little to no fear.

The fire within her is a sight to behold, her pretty face set hard and firm, just like her clenched fists, almost poised to fight if she absolutely needs to.

Of course, if push comes to shove, he will not allow even one scratch on her being, but it's still commendable that she is undoubtedly prepared to stand her ground, even if the odds aren't in her favour.

This fireball of a woman is definitely a keeper.

Ieyasu

Well...

Knowing how prickly he himself can be, one must have quite the backbone to stand up to him.

He doesn't know what to expect from the young woman when he subjects her to his sharp tongue, but it certainly wasn't that she would put him in his place as hard as she does.

He would never show it, but the way she claps back at him, demanding his respect, and chastising him so harshly for looking down on her that he is rendered silent for a second or two as she storms off without waiting for a response from him.

Her beautifully aggressive voice has a hint of an irritated growl in it as she chided him. It'd be rather sweet to listen to if it wasn't directed at him with scathing words.

He would sooner die than say so, but he does have some form of respect for her...just a little.

Maybe she isn't so weak after all..

Kenshin

This woman...

The warmonger has always been vocal about his...opinion on women. It does however, shift upon meeting this particular maiden.

The unabashed defiance in her eyes as she stands up to him, even fully knowing who he is and what he is capable of doing to her, is something that takes him aback, though he doesn't show it openly.

He is unsure whether she is truly that brave, or that foolish. Either way, she...interests him. She is unlike most, who would cower before him, or run for dear life. She instead looks him dead in the eye with a serious expression, her lips set in a hard line, not a trace of fear in her features.

He almost finds himself wanting to find what her limits would be if he raised the stakes of his threats...yet he doesn't for reasons unknown to even himself.

He will think about it even after the incident has passed, the fiery and stoic woman who met his gaze without so much as a flinch or a tremor staying within his mind. Who was she, that she could stare the Uesugi lord and stand tall rather than cower?

These are the questions that plague him as he contemplates seeing her again.

Shingen

Ah what a fascinating beauty!

He doesn't see women like her come around very often. This is, after all, a time where more demure, quiet women are commonplace.

But that is precisely why she is all the more lovely. Especially when upset or offended when one dares to disrespect her in any way. The way her gorgeous eyes light up with anger and indignation towards the subject of her ire is captivating on it's own.

While he rather see her happy and smiling, her angry and proudly defending herself is a special kind of beautiful he didn't realize he needed to see.

She should expect to be showered in praise for her bravery and dignity...even if he is the one she was just standing up to.

He often wonders what this strong angel would be like against the likes of Kenshin. Or rather, what Kenshin would do against the likes of her.

That is a sight he would like to see indeed.

🌸

[nakachuchu]

CHAPTER NINE: PURGE

Salvation Series

SYNOPSIS: The world was at peace.

WORDS: 1k

WRITTEN: 07/30/2023

In less than twenty-four hours, Inumaki Y/N purged the Jujutsu world of the evilest of curses. Uraume and Yorozu, curses who have lived thousands of years, were choking on their own vomit and blood before Y/N could breathe.

Tsumiki was saved by the roll of Uraume's head, thus erasing Yorozu from every timeline that ever existed.

Covered in blood that was not her own, Y/N held all the power that was left in the Jujutsu world, standing on top of the palace next to Gojo Satoru, the strongest man alive.

Her goal had shifted from protecting her descendants to protecting the innocents of the world that were the prey of evil.

She erased every eyesore that lingered in alleyways and temples. She had no time to waste and her actions proved faithful.

The Elders of the Jujutsu world had no choice but to step down in the presence of a woman who could command them to eat their own tongues.

While Gojo Satoru never wanted power, Inumaki Y/N had always been in a position of power. The days of being a god to the people had returned.

Kenjaku was defeated by the Six Eyes once again. He had no chance without the Prison Realm holding Satoru.

"You — "

You smiled. "Come back again and you will face the same results. You are destined to fail, Kenjaku, as a worthless, empty object that holds no significance. Die and stay dead. Should you come back, I will open the Earth in half and chain you to Hell and you will face enteral damnation."

At the cold look in your eyes, he knew he could not win for as long as you lived. As his eyes dimmed, your eyes glowed red like the devil. You had an evil in you that was disguised as a guardian to the innocents — you were just like his vessel.

You raised your fist and Satoru pressed his knuckles against yours, forming a fist bump. Satoru taught you that whilst fighting.

"What shall we do now?" you questioned.

Satoru was quiet for a moment. "Have you ever eaten a crepe?"

"I've not eaten a thing since my awakening," you admitted.

"Let's go eat crepes," he suggested, reaching his hand out.

You placed your hand into his, feeling the warmth and softness of his hands as if he hadn't killed many curses in his lifetime.

"We should mourn," you said instead.

"Well, I don't know about that — "

"Mourning is not a sign of weakness," you told him. "It is a sign of respect. No one will say anything if you chose to mourn your loved ones."

The smile on his face dropped. "Has anyone ever told you you're annoying?" he questioned.

"I suggest we mourn Nanami Kento. I heard he was a great friend of yours."

"Yeah, he was."

You smiled. "Then that seems like a great place to start."

Satoru learned you were annoying in your own way. To others, you were this majestic beauty that descended from the Heavens. To him, you were a sneaky serpent who always knew when to strike.

Despite the smallest nagging feeling tugging away at the hairs on the back of his neck, he gravitated toward you like no other.

Despite knowing to an extent how cruel you could be, he continued to bathe in your company because he knew there was no one like you.

It took centuries for the two of you to meet, and he knew the reason for that was because you would have ruled the world had you met his first ancestor.

Unlike his previous predecessors, Gojo Satoru was the first of his blood to possess the Six Eyes and Limitless.

You could have easily overpowered the first.

You were not innocent, despite the persona you built as a regal woman who put family above all else.

You were a bloodthirsty sorceress who wanted to do whatever you wanted to. You came from a time when the freedom of women was not allowed, but now you would ensure your own freedom.

Satoru and you stopped by a flower shop and bought a bouquet before appearing in front of the grave site.

The two of you approached Nanami's grave, but you lingered slightly behind to give Satoru space.

You closed your eyes and listened to the soundless winds. The world of Jujutsu was slightly more at peace now.

Satoru stood before the gravestone, his heart heavy with a mixture of sorrow and regret. It was a daunting task for a man who struggled to embrace vulnerability.

As he gazed at the engraved letters spelling out Nanami Kento's name, memories flooded his mind. He wasn't even able to be there for this death.

You peered at him. "Do you require more time?"

"No," he replied. "I got enough time. "Come on, let's go get those crepes. I know a great little cafe nearby."

You nodded, a hint of sadness still in her eyes.

At the cozy crepe cafe, the sweet aroma of baking batter and fruit filled the air. Satoru insisted you try a little of everything - nutella, strawberry, lemon, and sugar.

With each bite, he watched your eyes light up.

"This is marvelous," you said after tasting the strawberry one. "I've never had anything like it."

Satoru grinned. "I figured you'd like it. There's a whole world of new things out there for you to experience now." He paused, thinking of those who wouldn't get to see this peaceful world.

Noticing his change in mood, you set your spoon down.

“It's okay to still feel grief, even during moments of joy," you said gently.

He pursed his lips. “Yeah, well, whatever.”

After finishing their crepes, the two of you took a stroll through the city. Though you watched the world through Toge’s eyes, the modern world still amazed you.

"Can we try that?" you asked, pointing at a vending machine.

You walked over to it, basically pressing your face up against the glass. Satoru shook his head with a small smile on his face, then demonstrated how to insert coins and press buttons, retrieving a soda for each of them.

Your eyes lit up as the can rolled out. “How cool,” you said.

Satoru couldn't believe that the bloodthirsty god he saw just days ago could hold this much childlike joy from a vending machine.

You weren't so different from him. There was a part of you that wanted to protect the childhood you never got, just like him.

TAGLIST: @phoenix666stuff @sup-zfam @woozzz @yourfavoritefreakyhan @itsmekalou

[girlreviews]

Review #293: Last Splash, The Breeders

FUUUUUUUCK I love this record, but it permanently damaged the hearing in my right ear. I caught their show at Blackheath Hall in 2005. I put myself right at the front because I really loved them that much and I wanted — no, needed — to feel the heaving guitar in my chest, it felt like, to even continue on. I was seventeen so you know, everything felt a bit extra. I might as well have been hugging the PA system. Anyway, I didn’t anticipate what would happen during the part in Cannonball where Kim sings (yells) “WANT YOU, LITTLE CUCKOO” into the harmonic mic with all that distortion. Yeah, it’s loud. It’s so loud. My eardrum burst. I’ve had tinnitus ever since. My poor left eardrum suffered the same fate two weeks later at the Reading Fez (RIP), during a Mew show. Respectable, but so much less cool than its audio peeper partner in crime. Wear earplugs my friends. It’s not a joke.

Kim Deal founded The Breeders while The Pixies were on hiatus. Well that’s not true, she had been doing both but never able to focus on The Breeders, until 1993 when went Frank Black abruptly announced The Pixies hiatus live during an interview without informing the other band members first. The hiatus was kind of due burnout from recording three albums in two years and touring the hell out of them. Really though, Kim was not getting along with Frank. Here’s the thing — nobody really gets along with Frank. I love the Pixies. I do. But I will get into a fist fight with anyone who wants to insist that they’re better than The Breeders. They’re not. And the thing is, everyone has listened to The Pixies, while most of those same people haven’t given Kim and her band the same time of day. And you know why that is? Because they’re women who are playing heavy rock music. That’s all there is to it. I won’t hear anymore about it, I won’t say anymore about it and I’m not gonna fucking argue with you or anybody else about it. I’m right. Frank Black is a man, he fronts a band, so he gets paid more attention and listened to, and his shitfuck behavior gets dismissed as creative genius. The songs are great but that doesn’t mean you’re not an asshole, Frank! I’ll die on this hill but I’ll also throw hands before I do. Come at me.

I present to you, No Aloha, which actually, beautifully illustrates my point. It is also both beautiful and knockout punch effortlessly cool. It’s dreamy, and also like “we’re here to fuck shit up”. How can I express that it’s lovely and also ass kicking in its vague but biting commentary on being a woman in the music industry, and trying to make it in a band made up of all women (I think they’ve had a dude drummer in their line up from time to time to be fair, but still). It’s about how people that gave her the time of day during her Pixies tenure don’t give a shit about her now “No bye, no aloha, gone with a rock promoter” and how the perils of womanhood impact her creative output “motherhood means mental freeze, freezeheads, no aloha”. Think about what no aloha means. No hello. No goodbye. The disrespect. Ugh. Fuck yes to putting this out there unabashedly.

Obviously, Cannonball, the song that exploded my right ear, is iconic. If you don’t immediately recognize its bassline then I regret to inform you that you need to brush up on your general pop culture knowledge and you stand literally no chance of ever placing at any kind of trivia night. But most importantly, where have you been, and what have you been doing? And are you okay? Genuinely, you’re missing out. The whole thing about them is that musically they are just making some NOISE, and rocking so hard, but Kim’s voice is also so gentle and smooth. Like warm molten wax, or thick maple syrup and butter soaking into a perfect pancake. And she’s harmonizing with her own twin sister, who has the same voice? It’s too many textures but they’re polar opposites. It overwhelms and soothes at the same time. It’s quite an experience. So get it in your ears already.

There are some really lo-fi dulled down tracks, that are really tender and only a band of women could make them. Do You Love Me Now? Literally a low energy bass-led ballad earnestly asking someone if they want to get back together. It’s heart on sleeve girl bravery: I still love you and I don’t care if this doesn’t work out for me, I’m gonna say it. Such a poignant question, followed by a command:

“Does love ever end?

When two hearts are torn away?

Or does it go on?

And beat strong anyway?

You’ve loved me before

Do you love me now?

Come on come on come back to me

Right now”

It finishes with this cascade of harmonies. And I adore it.

My favorite track, and favorite story. Drivin’ on 9. A little ditty! Who doesn’t love a ditty? Again I need to talk about Kim’s voice. It’s like. It’s like. What is it like? When you toast a marshmallow and then squish it between a graham cracker and melted chocolate. It’s like, a smooth whiskey, probably (I don’t like whiskey). It’s like a tiny bird just landed on your hand for the briefest moment. It’s so delicate and precious and you don’t know how such a voice comes out of anyone’s mouth, but especially not hers, because she’s so tough and cool. The strings in the song make me want to die in the best way. Like when people say they died and went to heaven. They pluck it AND they use the bows. Why do I love it so much? Probably because it’s a song about driving and thinking. That’s my favorite thing to do.

“Drivin’ on 9

Lookin’ out my windowsill

Wonderin’ if I want you still

Wonderin’ what’s mine”

I last saw them play at Cannery Ballroom, and the most wonderful thing(s) happened. Firstly, they played this track, so I was happy to begin with. But there was some issue, like one of the violins was missing or broken or not able to be mic’d up correctly or something, I forget. So, Kelley Deal SANG the violin solo. And got it dead on. I cried. These women are just the coolest to ever do it.

I write these reviews because I fundamentally have a problem with the makeup of music critics being made up of men. And I notice looking back how these records and tracks are interconnected with trash men who have acted trash to me or others. I have things to say. I take issue with how they’re written as though their subjective opinions are gospel to be consumed as objective fact. This dynamic can make or break someone’s career when it’s their art and creative output that they’ve poured their heart and soul into. It’s no coincidence that music overall, but rock and alternative music in particular is made up of majority white men, too. Some with self-proclaimed “good taste” can just label it good or bad when it’s not necessarily made for someone that looks like them. These reviews are my experience and my opinion and it’s okay with me if you do or don’t agree, if you love a record that I hate, or if you hate a record I love. But more voices are important and remembering that they’re subjective opinions is pretty fucking important. Hearing someone’s passion (or lack of) about a record is more valuable than hearing their self-importance or gravitas. The Rolling Stone Top 500 is fundamentally flawed in how it’s compiled because of who it’s compiled by, and so I’m deconstructing it one review at a time, noting that as a white woman, the addition of my voice isn’t the full answer or even a big part of the answer. But like I said, I have things to say, and I hope if you have things to say, whoever you are, you’ll share too. But here we are: it’s just proving my point. I’ll be writing one review of The Breeders, but two for The Pixies.

I’m just doing what Kim did when she got sick of the bullshit with Frank Black and The Pixies and decided to do it her way. Nowhere near as loud, nowhere near as cool, and I expect your eardrums will survive my reviews in tact.

Signing off with these words from my favorite “girl” band:

“I see a boy I know

His hair's on fire

The whole world I discovered

If you're so special, why aren't you dead?

I just wanna get along

I just wanna get along

I just wanna get along

Wave bye bye

Cus it ain’t never coming down now”

[larvasmoon]

WIP Wednesday

Thank you @purdledooturt for tagging me, it motivated me to start writing the pirate AU Astarion fic that had in mind for a while already ! I don't know yet if it'll be a one shot or something lengthy, but today I'm sharing a little glimpse into what this story will be like.

While she was filling new jugs of beer near the wooden barrels, she heard the clamor in the tavern abruptly die down. The front door squeaked and heavy steps echoed in the nearly silent, yet very crowded room. 

Intrigued, Beatrice bent over and peeked over Blayne’s shoulder. She only needed one look to know that a small group of pirates had entered the Sea Bounty. 

They stood still in front of the entrance, dressed in luxurious fabrics and armed to the teeth. The steel of their scimitars menacingly shone in the dim atmosphere, barely visible in their leather scabbards. 

The man at the center bent down in a lithesome curtsy, more fitting for a ballroom than a stinky tavern, and took his red feathers adorned tricorn off. His long silver curls cascaded down his forehead and shoulders, pale and shimmery like the moonlight on a cloudy night, shining through the windows of her decrepit rented room. 

Iridescent pearls glowed amongst the soft waves of his hair, delicately dangling from his pointy ears. Countless chains and trinkets trickled down his milky neck like an opulent river of gold.

And Beatrice knew, for sure, that they were souvenirs from his many fateful raids, stolen from innocent men and women. 

She shuddered at the thought of their dark silhouettes, stripping valuables off of bodies that would have yet to grow cold after their gruesome demise. 

She had seen pirates at work with her very eyes, afterall, many years ago.

Tearing ancient family heirlooms from the necks of their rightful owners.

Sliding wedding rings off the fingers of dead newlyweds.

Undressing limp women to drag their silky petticoats down their legs. 

Before happily witnessing the sinking of yet another ship, and graciously gifting all that flesh to hungry sharks and other ungodly inhabitants of the blue abysses.

The man’s cherry-red eyes, roughly circled in black khôl, were gleaming with malice and ill-intent when he looked up. 

 “A very good evening to you, ladies and gentlemen”, he finally uttered with a voice that was as melodious as it commanded respect. 

Yet, in response, a series of hearty and hoarse laughs echoed from all parts. 

The hands of the two women behind him instinctively found the hilt of their weapon. A githyanki and a half-elf with hair as black as the night, whose piercing eyes thoroughly inspected the gloomy tavern for any signs of threat. They were as beautiful and terrifying as him, all clad in leather pants, linen shirts and majestic hats. 

“A big fish if I have ever seen any,” whispered a woman behind Beatrice, “the infamous captain Ancunín from the Moon Raider.”

Another beat of silence as the little group of ruffians walked away to sit at their table. 

“Wanted, dead or alive”, she said again, “ten thousand gold coins granted to whoever will deliver him to the flaming fists and the umberlant clerics who work under their orders.”

I'm tagging @purdledooturt again because I just can't get enough of her 9 INT Tav, @cinnamontails-ff and @davenswitcher if they have little bits of their ongoing projects they'd like to share ❤️

Here's my Ao3

[abysscronica]

Feel free to answer 1, 2 or all three \o/

11. Post something from a current wip or concept 12. The funniest comment someone has left on a fic of yours? 13. Inspiration for Captive? I know it's been complete for a while now, but I'm just curious what kicked it off. (Captive played an inspirational role in my first Eustass Kid fic, so I'm curious <3 )

Thank you Quin and sorry for the late reply! Since the answer to no.11 is quite long, I'll reply to the others in another post (here).

From this ask game. (I have some other asks for it, will get to them later)

11. Post something from a current wip or concept

This is from a One Piece fantasy AU that I'm probably never going to work on fully, so it's a good chance to share it. It's just a draft and it's a OP x reader story, even if it doesn't look like it.

Koby held his breath in the humid darkness of the inn. Or what was left of it, anyway.

The stench of death impregnated the air, stale, heavy. It was hard to make out the details of the dining hall in the moonless night, although the young commander was partially grateful for that. He could see the outlines of the corpses, maimed, men and women alike, but not their horrified faces. He could see limbs, feel the mush of their organs under his boots. The wooden beams of the floor were probably covered in dry blood.

_______________________________________________________

He could hear the buzzing of the mosquitos, always preceding them at the crime scene.

His blond companion, beside him, pressed a handkerchief to his mouth, desperately trying not to puke.

“How many?”

“Eleven, that we know of,” Helmeppo grunted, his voice sounding more like a whimper.

No wonder, Koby thought, with his heightened half-elf senses, the blonde was surely worse off than him.

“Bring the torches down, get the men to collect samples and sketch out the crime scene.”

“What for? The murderer is already in our custody,” Helmeppo said from behind the cloth.

 Koby frowned at the floor. A delicate hand lay at his feet, a feminine one, severed below the wrist by jagged teeth.

“It’s the third case in two moons. We need to reopen the investigation,”

“Fine. Ugh, I need to get out of here,”

 Helmeppo rushed up the few stairs that led outside. The faint light of the stars cast clearer shadows in the inn for a moment, allowing Koby a better view of the massacre.

He looked, trying to imprint to his memory as many details as possible. Not that he could ever forget. Then he turned and followed the comrade outside.

It was a relief when the fresh air of the night greeted him, even there in the Rats Heap, where the air always carried a lingering smell of human and animal ejections.

“Commander Koby.”

 Out of the three soldiers composing his inner squad, only Hibari saluted him as he stepped in the small clearing among the buildings. Koby nodded to her and looked at Grus.

The tall man was leaning against the tumbleweed wagon, arms crossed on his broad chest, serious eyes glued to him.

“Is the prisoner secured?”

“Yeah.” Grus banged the wagon with his fist “Chained up like a damn sausage. Not that it matters, given his state,”

“His conditions are pretty bad,” Hibari confirmed “He’s burning up, even for a half-titan. We tried talking to him, but he doesn’t seem present at all,”

“We should just kill him,” Helmeppo shrugged.

 Koby shook his head.

“What? No. We need to find out what happened.”

“With all due respect, Koby, this looks just like another case of half-titans going mad,” Grus sighed “They do that, you know.”

“It’s been too many cases in such a short time. Also, they usually don’t just fall sick and die immediately after, and yet this is the only one we managed to capture alive so far,”

“So? Maybe it’s something with the stars, the seasons, the year. These guys have demon blood in their veins, who knows what’s up with them,” Grus said.

“Even so, I’m worried,” Hibari admitted “These cases will strain the situation with the half-titans in the city… they don’t do well when they feel threatened. We risk an escalation.”

“And so close to the First Blood Tournament! I hate this job,” Helmeppo groaned.

“We need to find out what’s going on,” Koby concluded “Helmeppo, call the other squads and have them analyze the scene, like I asked you. Grus, bring the prisoner to the headquarter and give him to the healers.”

 Grus blinked.

“The headquarter? I thought we were sending him to Impel Down. They have a lot of titans working there. If anyone knows how to make him talk, it’s them.”

“We’ll keep it as last resource.”

 The soldier shrugged, then mounted on the wagon and spurred the horses down the street.

Koby took a deep breath and glanced back at the inn.

“We need to keep the capital safe.”

Three days had passed since the massacre. No progress had been made in the half-titan case, and the rest of the population was growing listless. Two teenage half-titans had been killed in the Rat’s Heap, the poorest district of Sabaody. The militia presence was very scarce there, and daily disorders were the norm, but not at this rate. They were receiving frequent reports of aggressive half-titans from other districts too.

The only information they gathered on the murderer was his name, Gin, and that he was a hunter in the marshes at the Southeast rim of the capital. Like most titans, he was on a watchlist, but his past before arriving at Sabaody was a mystery.

“NEWWS! GET THE NEWWS OF TODAY!”

 Koby walked through the crowded streets of the Sunlight Market, staying large of the people swarming around the news boys.

“PRINCESS UTA’S EIGHTEENTH BIRTHDAY IS ONLY TWO WEEKS AWAY, AND THE FIRST BLOOD TOURNAMENT WITH IT!”

 Like he needed someone to remind him that.

Humans and half-elves were throwing coins at the boys, papers were being handed over in all directions.

“THE CITY IS GOING TO WELCOME GUESTS FROM ALL OVER THE CONTINENT! ALABASTA! KANO! LITTLE GARDEN! TOTTOLAND! MAYBE EVEN WANO! AND WHAT ABOUT ONIGASHIMA?!”

 Some loud gasps rose from the crowd. Koby winched lightly.

“HOW MANY CHAMPIONS WILL THE OTHER RULERS SEND?? FIND THE UPDATED LIST IN THE LATEST ISSUE!”

 They knew how to sell their paper, Koby would give them that. Those boys were certainly trained by the Lord of Whispers, Morgans himself.

 The commander took a hard turn and put some distance between him and the busiest square of the market.

He had ditched the silver cape of the ground Militia for a casual outfit, a linen scarf wrapped around his chin not to be recognized. He walked for the best part of an hour to a small park by the river. There were very few people around, mostly homeless men hanging in the shadow of the trees. One of them, a blind one, was throwing crumbles at the ducks by the bank.

 Koby opted for a bench right behind him and sat.

“Has the mist dissipated yet?” he asked.

“The fog is all I see.”

 The homeless was wrapped in a ragged cloak, but his frame was still impressive. He didn’t turn nor greeted the visitor.

“I hope you know how great of a risk it is to meet you,” he said, offering some seeds to the closest duck.

“I know. I’m sorry, but I need to know if you have any information on the mad titans’ cases. We are grasping at straws here, and we are expecting the first delegations to arrive in less than a week.”

“I’m working to make sure we don’t get spies from Kaido or Big Mom in the city amid this new influx. Public security is your job.”

“I’m sorry, Sir Diez, but you are the only one that can get me real intel from the streets.”

“Don’t use my name.”

“Sorry. But it’s true. I need… to talk to someone. Someone that can help.”

 The other paused for a moment.

“I heard you apprehended the last titan alive.”

“Barely, yes. He’s in our custody now but he’s mostly unconscious, and when he does wake up he’s hardly more than a vegetable. They’re feeding him through nectar and blood injections, but I’m afraid he’ll die soon.”

“So what are you asking me? I know nothing of this titan madness. Unless you came to me because I’m a half-titan myself?”

“Absolutely not!” Koby yelped, pressing a hand to his mouth immediately after “S-Sorry, I mean, no. What I want is… I’m looking for someone that can get the information out of the prisoner before it’s too late.

…

“You want someone who practices witchcraft.”

 Koby hesitated.

“Yes.”

 Diez remained silent for a while. Of course they both knew that witchcraft was forbidden in the capital, but they also knew that the lower belly of society harbored many sorcerers.

“I could give you some names,” Diez said, rubbing his chin “But there’s no guarantee that you’ll get what you want. These people are criminals, they can be deceiving.”

“Well, at least it would be a start.”

“No.” Diez threw the rest of the feed in the water, and the ducks around him stormed in the river “It’s not a witch that you seek. What you need is a Mind Whisperer.”

 Koby’s eyes widened.

“Wait… we have someone like that in the capital? They’re so rare, I thought they could only be found at the Tree of Knowledge, in Ohara. I put in a request days ago but by the time the crow comes back, the prisoner will be dead.”

“There are illegal Mind Whisperers of course, albeit not many. Usually they are swindlers, or hold very scarce power.”

“So…?”

“I caught wind of someone. Not here – in Water Seven. I’ve only heard of them once, so I don’t know how accurate the intel is. But they say this one is the real deal.”

 Koby’s heart pounded. The free city of Water Seven was just a half-day away by horse from Sabaody.

“Where can I find them?”

“I only know they work as a healer in the Cherry Blossom clinic.”

“Cherry Blossom clinic. Got it.”

 Koby rose and bowed imperceptibly.

“Thank you, sir.”

 As he moved to leave, Diez called him back.

“I don’t know much about this person’s background, but I do know they are discreet and have high profile clients. People that can tamper with others’ minds are dangerous. Be on your guard, boy.”

 Koby looked at the half-titan’s back, then nodded.

“I will.”

[reader is of course the Mind Whisperer]