#yes hes singing set it off in the first image. i like set it off. fight me

[insertsona]

hello tumblr. can i interest you in more doodles of this guy

[cupcakeslushie]

For your brainwash au, do we get so see exactly how Donnie got captured by Kendra? And would this au be a full comic or just bits and pieces here and there? (Not pressuring just curious) Love the au and I hope you’re having a good day! :)

Don’t know why, but I felt like writing this part out instead of drawing it! (Sorry for bad grammar. I wrote this lying in bed, sleep deprived and did no editing)

——

The sad, pained look on his little brother’s face is enough to set off that dark protective fire in Donatello’s belly. And Michael has been a tiny storm of negative emotions since Leo slapped the small cast on his ankle. Donnie may not be able to pick apart and decipher all of the subtitles his brother is feeling right now, but he knows he’s in pain, and that’s enough.

“How many strips of bacon do you think we can get from Meat Sweat’s corpse?” Donnie ponders as he wraps an arm around his little brother’s shoulders, and carefully pulls him closer. Mikey lets out a quiet huff, but the joke doesn’t land the way Donnie had been hoping.

“Michael?”

“I’m okay,” Mikey assures. Then a hesitant second later adds, “it’s stupid.”

“Oh well if it’s stupid, allow me to grab ‘Nardo. He might be able to help you better.”

That gets the laugh he was looking for.

“I’m not in pain or anything. It’s just, tonight was the midnight signing of Joshua Bear’s new cook book. He’s a YouTuber chef that I’ve been following for years, and I went to his first release…I really wanted the second for my collection.”

Donatello does vaguely remember Angelo telling Raph something about this event last night, during dinner. He’d been so excited, and now he looks crushed at the idea of missing it.

“What if I went?” At the suggestion, Mikey’s face becomes brighter than a super nova, almost too bright for Donnie to stare at directly. It takes a moment for Michael to really calm down enough to speak.

“You’d really go wait in line for three hours? Just to get a book?” Donatello laughs at the question. Any opportunity in which his brothers were interested in the world of literature, no matter the subject (except maybe geology) was a time to be supportive.

Mikey pulls him in for a tight hug, and holds up his phone to snap a picture of them. Donnie snorts and slides out of his little brother’s hammock, careful not to disturb it too much. Mikey is already bouncing enough that he’s in danger of falling out.

“Yes, yes. Sing my praises on all your media socials. Let the world know how I’m your favorite older sibling!” Mikey drops the phone to his chest and holds his arms up, practically vibrating for one more hug. Donnie complies. He’s long given up maintaining his bad boy image when it’s just the two of them.

“You’re the best, Donnie! Really!” The words do a hell of a job replacing that previous fury he’d been harboring, the smile and warmth coming from Mikey, now fully restored. The proper order of the universe righted with a simple solution. This was what he loved most about being a brother. Fixing his siblings problems, in any way he could. And if healing the broken bone outright was (for now) out of his control—at least he could do this.

Donnie glances at his watch and notes he should get going if the turn out is going to be as big as Angelo predicts. He sneaks past the living room where he can hear his other two brethren yelling over a game of Mario Kart. He has zero interest in either of his brothers tagging along. He loves them, but neither are suited to standing in a long line for hours. For the last Jupiter Jim reboot, Donatello was seconds away from a double fratricide before they were even allowed into the theater.

Besides. He’s practically 18 (in four weeks). He can run up to the surface for a few hours, without having to call upon the archaic buddy system.

———

He’s in line for about an hour, when he sees suspicious movement out the corner of his eye. A young woman, parting the line a little ways ahead from where he stands, walks quickly into the closest alley. That alone might be no cause for alarm—maybe it’s a short cut. But the tall, hooded creep trailing after her, has his metaphorical hackles rising. It’s a clear case of sinister intentions. He quickly glances around to see if anyone else has witnessed this, but he’s the only one who seems to be showing any type of concern. Typical New York.

“What a town” Donnie sighs. He doesn’t bother asking the old man behind him to save his spot, seeing as he’s practically at the end of the line, and quickly races to the alley to play hero.

It’s a deep one, the lights of the street not quite hitting all the eerie nooks and crannies. Plenty of blind spots.

“Hello there? Stalker and or damsel in distress? Is anyone in need of assistance? Anyone hopefully bear maced and in need of a being escorted to the nearest precinct?”

No answer.

The non-existent hairs on Donnie’s arms stand straight up. Just as he’s reaching for his ninpo to materialize a bo-staff, something thick wraps around his neck from behind. The arm is almost as big as Raphael’s, if lacking in the muscle department.

But before his can break the hold, the solid feeling of a needle slides into the meat of his neck and something rushes into his veins. Within seconds he’s released and stumbling from the lack of support.

Someone is talking to him. It takes a second of his gaze bouncing around to pick them out. Mildly embarrassing, considering they’re standing right in front of him now. Out of all the colors popping in and out of his vision, Donnie only just catches the same turquoise hoodie that seemed to belong to the unassuming young woman.

A honey pot trap, he realizes, stumbling and falling pathetically backwards on his own ass.

He sees pink hair and is almost relieved, if humiliated. With all their enemies, the Purple Dragons are D tier. But the chances he can free himself before his brothers even notice his absence is high. Just the thought of the savage teasing he would be forced to endure if his brothers found out—Donatello is not eager to hear any of it.

As the nauseating colors finally bleed away, and start to leave black growing in their wake, Donatello swears to cause a big explosion on his way out.

[sashi-ya]

𝑨𝑩𝑶𝑽𝑬 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑪𝑳𝑶𝑼𝑫𝑺 ⛈ [chapter 1: introduction] 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐭! 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐋𝐚𝐰 𝐱 𝐅! 𝐂𝐄𝐎! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫.

⇝ Interactive fic format welcome to the first chapter! as mentioned previously this will be an interactive fic! how does it work? by the end of every chapter you will find a poll section where you will be able to vote for what's coming in the next chapter! what will reader do? what will be the consequences? have fun! ⇝ tw: the story is set to be an awakening for reader. you will find topics as loneliness, hints of depression and suicidal tendencies. be specially careful if this topics are triggering for you. there is no smut in this chapter, but it will be in the following ones. ⇝ don't forget to vote at the end of every chapter! ⇝ masterlist

Nobody, never, told you no. And nobody, ever, will. Miss Independent. Miss Successful. The Boss.

“I don’t care about a stupid storm, get me a damn ticket NOW” you order. The sound of your voice echoes against the many glass windows of your rooftop office. You don’t mind, nor care for your safety… all you have in your life is your job. Biggest enterprise that leads many markets and won’t ever stop growing. At least not on your watch.  

Your hills click harder against the cold marble of the floor, a tuft of hair gets curled around your finger, the insides of your mouth are heavily bitten. Nobody, however, knows you can get anxious. And nobody should, either.

“The… the airport is closed, Miss” your assistant, Usopp, informs.

Your eyes are glued to the blurred image of the city. You can see almost all of it from your position. And it’s that, exactly, what money and power makes you feel; like you are above them all.

“Then get the jet” you venously spit, as if your assistant was stupid enough not to think of that already. “I don’t give a fuck if it’s closed, we are taking off from the vineyard runway”

You notice your secretary nervously trying to find any type of words that could stop you from doing such stupidity, but he finally gives up and simply says “yes, boss...”

He walks away, already with his phone in his hands. He needs to call the private pilot on a Thursday night, with a cyclone outside, just because you couldn’t wait.

The tuft you’ve been playing with around your finger is now behind your ear. You tucked it. As always, your hand did it. Your long red nails did. Loneliness never made you less successful; in fact, quite the opposite.

Through the glass wall, covered in uncountable raindrops, your blurred vision finally fixes into the many buildings around. All of them, so late in the evening, begin to show candid lights throughout them. Families that join and play together. Lonely people hugging their pets. Couples dancing and kissing, or even looking through their windows. None of them, but you, show a single silhouette tonight.

“Boss, I’m- I…” your assistant breaks your bubble of hate and self-awareness. “The pilot says he is not flying tonight. It’s too dangerous” he excuses himself. In fact, his head bowed down exposes how mortified he is by not being able to accomplish your orders.

You turn around and massage your temple. There is a very important meeting you need to attend tomorrow morning. You can’t wait.

“Put Doffy on the line and leave me alone” you straight and coldly say.

He nods, leaving immediately, closing the heavy doors behind him. Not even five seconds after, the sound of your phone announces  Mr. Donquixote is waiting on the line.

“My sweet (Name), to what do I owe the pleasure of your call? Are you feeling lonely tonight? You can come home whenever you can” the excentric billionaire, who you sometimes fuck with, sings through the phone.

“I need your private pilot. Now. Flying my jet from the vineyards” you say, not much information is given. He probably understands.

He laughs. Extremely loudly.

“No pilot will take you anywhere tonight but let me see if my nephew wants to risk his life. The kid wants to die often, and apparently you too” he keeps laughing while telling you such terrible statement.

“I need a pilot, not a kid Doflamingo” “He is, indeed, a pilot. Give me twenty minutes, I’ll send it to your vineyard. But you owe me one… you know exactly those lips are my weakness”

Done. Problem fixed. You always know who to call when you need something; you know nobody really cares about your wellbeing but only the things they could get in return if you owe them something.

A carry on is always packed with essential stuff on your office; many are the times you spend travelling compared to those you spend at your own house. You grab it along with your coat and your keys.  You don’t wait for your chauffer; you don’t want to hear blabbering about safety.

“It’s just rain. What’s gonna happen? Am I getting my stilettos wet? So what?”

There isn’t much traffic, the many lights are indeed going the opposite way to yours. Everybody seems to be returning home, while you are driving straight to the outside of the city. Your vineyards aren’t that far but are certainly on a much rural zone.

Thunder roar in the open sky, the darkest night seems to be only illuminated by the power of those flashing lights inside growing grey towers of fluff.

“Bet is gonna be a very fun flight ~” you hum, as you imagine the little powerful plane crossing the menacing clouds ahead.

It takes you little time to arrive to your destination, the engine of your car is way more powerful than most of the automobiles out there.

Right by the door of your vineyards, a man that seems to be on the bones, salutes you.

“Yohohoho! What are you doing here, Boss? Welcome! Do I prepare a glass of Merlot or maybe a Pinot Noir for you tonight? ” he asks, taking his hat off, revealing an amazing afro underneath.

“Brook, take this to the jet. The pilot will be here at any minute, he is a new one so let him pass the door” you instruct your housekeeper, throwing your carry on at him.

His eyes, deep into the sockets of his skull, open wide. Of course, nobody expects you to fly with such storm outside… but that’s just you, and exactly how you are.

“Sure, Boss. I’ll sort everything out for you right away”

You take a swift look at the main house of your vineyards. Everything is perfectly clean and well kept. You are satisfied; your personnel works perfectly well. Except your private pilot, that one is already fired.

You sit down, flopping maybe onto a fancy couch. Nobody is watching, you are allowed to rest for at least just a moment. However, the calm lasts no longer than a couple of seconds.

“Miss (Name), the pilot is here” Brook comments, making your shut eyes to open slowly and -mostly- annoyed. You didn’t expect to see a man standing right next to your employee, but there he is.

“Who are you? why aren’t you on the plane already?” you ask, not even standing up but crossing your legs as you stiff your back muscles. Your thighs, flash a little bit of them underneath the cut of your pencil tight skirt. Your red nails carve on the sides of the armchairs.

The man, of steel eyes and dark hair smirks just a little with defiance and superior demeanour. Something you most likely don’t fancy but makes your insides… anxiously alive.

Wearing nothing but a private pilot uniform, he stands right in front of you. It shows that he is clearly not used to serve, but to be served. And you soon remember this man, who’s been called a “kid”, is in fact Donquixote Doflamingo’s nephew.

“You must be Doffy’s nephew; you are just like him; you don’t bow before anyone. Don’t you?” you ask, this time standing up. Not even your high heels are enough to surpass his height.

He hums. “Trafalgar Law, and I’m not like him” he spits. Apparently he is not only spoiled, but also hates his own family. “I’m not here to work for you, I am here because I’ve been told you needed a favour. You should know how to fly planes by now” he states.

You burn. How dare him tell you are not independent enough.

“Indeed, I do. Apparently you aren’t aware of the fact that I can’t fly without another pilot because of stupid laws and regulations. This isn’t a helicopter; this is a jet” you inform him, walking right pass him and asserting dominance with your hand on his shoulder.

You look him in the eye with a side look. Law, does the same. You are close, so close you can hear his breathing. And your image, imponent and beautiful, reflects on the golden hoops that hang from his right ear.

Both, intensely fight in silence. For what, however, none of you exactly know. And the energy between you two, could probably alter the weather, and the world itself…

“Come on, I have no time to waste. I need to be in London by tomorrow morning” you break the silence. Walking towards a big hall that takes you to the hangar, you turn around just for a couple of seconds to give a last lethal look at your new young companion.

Just a hint of flustered cheeks show in his face, but it’s enough for you to feel like you have won the battle of dominance. Or that’s what you thought.

The heavy steps behind you, makes you internally smile. You are used to be followed by almost mute employees, walking on eggshells not to piss you off. But Law is different; he is not doing this for the money, nor status. He is as suicidal as you, flying in this weather should be prohibited… in fact, it is. But the rich never ask for permission. You are know you are above everything else. And that includes the clouds, too.

“Give me a second, let me sort the charts” Law says, taking a look at the papers in his hands before climbing into the jet.

You nod, as you do the same with your laptop. Something inside you tells you to stop; that those conditions will bring more than mere turbulence. Yet, your cold heart, tells you something louder than your reason; “who cares if something happens, after all? Just do it”

Half an hour after, and a couple of swift looks at each other, Law and you are already set to departure.

For the first time since he arrived you notice the tattoos on his hands; knuckles inked with the word “D.E.A.T.H” rip a scoff from you. It is quite funny to you, that those hands could most likely either fly you to death if you aren’t lucky enough, or to London if you are.

“We don’t need to fly now, we can wait until the conditions seem better” Law murmurs, as those inked fingers turn on every button of the plane. “Your plans aren’t more important than any life”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤOh. So, he is not that willing to die as Doffy said…

[love-lilly02]

The Challenge pt. 4

AN: This chapter was supposed to be out yesterday but I got kinda sick so I couldn't edit it, Anyways, enjoy!!

“Would you mind spotting me?” 

The question seems innocent enough, if you weren’t asking it to the scariest man on the base, much less your lieutenant.

Ghost lifted his head from where he was sitting on a bench, unwrapping his hands after his own training session. 

You quickly back tracked at his expression, rethinking your choice. “You don’t have too, I think I got this set-“

“No, no I got it.” He stood, moving behind you, standing a little too close, but you chose to ignore it. 

The set was fairly easy, and you finished quickly, thanking him quietly as you moved to put the weights back on their stand. 

“Can I ask you somethin?” Ghost questioned, and you turned to see that he was studying you intently. 

“Yeah?” You prompted, tilting your head slightly. 

“That bet… Why’d you do it?” 

You shrugged. “I was drunk, mostly. Figured there couldn’t be any harm. What’s the worst that can happen, anyways?” 

That made him chuckle. “You have no idea, do you?” 

“What do you mean?” You asked, furrowing your brow in confusion. The tall man walked closer to you, moving you slowly till your back hit the wall. 

“This ain’t just a game to those boys, it’s a challenge. Whoever wins you won’t be kind, I hope you know that.” He places an arm above your head, effectively pinning you against the wall. You can feel his breath through the mask, and the warmth against your neck sends a shiver down your spine. 

“Honestly, darlin’ You’re a right fuckin tease when you wanna be, hm? Acting all innocent, like you don’t know how much we all want to-“

“I’ve got it!!” 

Soap’s voice cut through the whole training room, as he ran in frantically waving a piece of paper in the air. “I found one! Take that bitch, I’m in the lead!” 

“Wait, what? Found what?” You and Ghost jumped apart from each other, both running over to where Johnny was doing a -frankly crude- victory dance. Your heart was absolutely pounding, heat still flying through your body at the encounter with Ghost. 

We all want to what? What do they want to do…

“You did not find it, I did.” Kyle huffed, diving for the photo in Soap’s hand. “Give it back you pathetic excuse for a-“ 

“Hey,” Price said in warning. Kyle just huffed and backed away from Soap. 

“Finders keepers,” Soap teased in a sing song voice, throwing the photo on the bench. “The first of ten. Which puts me in the lead.” 

“You aren’t in the lead if you stole a photo, that’s not how it works.” Ghost said, kneeling down to pick up the image.

“Like I said, finders keepers. S’not my fault Gaz wanted tae hoard the photos till ‘e got all ten. His loss aye?” Soap nudged you playfully on the shoulder, but you were too busy trying to see the image to acknowledge him. 

Gaz looked pathetically over to Price, opening his mouth to plead his case. Price beat him to it, however. “Soap, that’s not nice. Gaz found it, he takes the credit.”

“Awe, come off it captain, It’s just a bit of fun  huh?” 

“Johnny.”

“Yes sir.”

“Still dont think it’s fair,” Ghost threw in. 

“Whadya mean? I found the image-“ Kyle protested, turning to Ghost now. 

“Yeah but from where?” Ghost challenged, placing the photo back on the bench 

“Online? Don’t see how it matters, it’s a photo.” 

“But it’s not creditable, this could be edited-“

And so it continued. You had long since tuned out the bickering, leaning down to look at the photo. It did look like you, a smiling child holding an award for something you couldn’t really read. 

The closer you looked, however, the more you started to see the imperfections. The girl in the photo had straight hair, at that age yours was more curly. And she was holding a ball in her hands, a basketball. 

Of all the sports you played, basketball was never one of them. 

“That’s not me.”

They were still shouting, yelling over each other to be heard above the voices. Johnny was pressing Kyle for where he got the information, and Kyle was refusing to say, under the excuse it would give them a ‘better advantage’ than he had. Johnny was still trying to insist they should share the win, and Price was just yelling for everyone to calm the fuck down. 

“Hello?” You called, trying to raise your voice above all of them. “Hey, I said that isn’t me.”

But the yelling continued. It seemed to go on forever, all of them arguing over one small image. The topic slowly changed, however, till they started crossing into uncharted territory. 

“Look-“ Gaz snapped, breathing heavily. “I found the photo, just like the deal said. That makes one out of ten for me. You lot can do what you will but I’m not sharing.”

“You didn’t have a problem sharing last night, isn’t that right?” Ghost hissed, and the gym was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Your head ached trying to figure out what the boys were saying, the double meanings behind everything, but you couldn’t keep up. 

“I don’t give a fuck what I did and didn’t do last night, what’s fair is fair.” Kyle snapped, turning to grab the photo. 

“You’re just mad cause you don’t want to think about one of us fu-“ 

“That’s enough!” Now it was you who was yelling, and the boys watching you in disbelief. 

“Look, this isn’t like that, okay! I’m sick of you all objectifying me like i’m some fucking doll. I don’t know what side bets you have going on but I want out of this one. I made the deal drunk and you all watched me try to get out of it the next morning, and now you’re yelling like fucking children over a picture that doesn’t even have me in it. I never even did basketball for fucks sake! And you would know this if you acted like normal fucking human beings, much less behave like the grown men you are and ask me.” They all looked at you in absolute shame, as you threw the photo on the ground. 

“And for the record, I am not fucking one of you on a deal. I don’t work like that so get the thought out of your head.”

You shoved past the wall of muscle made up by both Price and Ghost, storming off to your room.

For the longest time, he sat there and thought about exactly what happened in the gym. 

Kyle was no fool. He understood what bringing up the photo would do, and he knew Soap would try and take the credit, as they had agreed the night before. 

He didn’t actually know why he changed his mind. Kyle had no problem sharing you with the others, they were right anyways. 

He shared all the time. 

But something about introducing you to… this… scared him. As if they could frighten you off. 

He knew that wasn’t true, so why did he think that way?

An apology message sat, typed out on his phone. He was procrastinating, heavily, on sending it, worried that it might be a little too much for you to handle. 

Was it? You had taken your the whole team so nicely, he thought you would be ready… 

 More photos of you sad scattered on his desk. A lot of them looked like what Price had found before, a bunch of family photos with you missing or images of a girl who looked exactly like you but she wasn’t you. 

Today’s events proved that. 

Anyone else might have been saddened at the revelation. Putting weeks of work into one image, just to be wrong? Enough to crush a man, if it was done correctly.  

But Kyle Gaz Garric is no ordinary man.

Before he can think about it too much, he hurriedly hits send on the message and closes his phone. 

Now, we wait.

My Masterlist

[rose-tea-and-strawberries]

𝖎𝖌𝖓𝖎𝖙𝖊

AKA: this one quote from Book!Frollo made my mind go crazy. 

Yes, I was listening to “It's A Dangerous Game” from the Jekyll and Hyde Original Concept Recording

(also, please forgive my Latin, I used google translate)

Reader/Yuu is female and has hair (which is implied to be long)

Masterlist

It was mesmerising, how perfectly your bodies melded and moved together, how easily and harmoniously you were brought to a hitherto unknown rapture. To be caught up in such a state, where you were free of the chains that bound you to the horrors of purgatory and had ascended you to heights you had never felt before, to feel him guiding you to a place where you had never even begun to dream about.

Minutes had passed since the twelfth ring of the Bell of Solace yet the two of you stayed in your tower, pressed against a shadowed alcove, away from everyone and everything, your hands wandering and blood singing as the rest of the city drifted off into their fanciful visions of the dusk.

With the Witching Hour descending upon you, veiling you in the covers of the night, you only had the stars and the spirits above as witnesses to this tryst, your secrets laid bare for their silent judgement.

But their judgement didn’t matter, nor did your schoolmates’, if the silent covenant between you and him were to be obeyed, if the unvoiced sermon in blue flickers that glowed against the scorching green of his eyes that seared into you as he took a lock of your hair and pressed it against his lips were to be acknowledged.

His cold touch, like fire, burning your figure as it trailed across your face, your neck, your shoulder before settling on your waist, pulling you closer - long, chilling fingers burned along your skin, setting ablaze every thought, every word, every semblance of rationality. 

“Pulchra,” you could feel his voice against your mouth, wafting and caressing like tendrils of smoke, sonorous to your ears, “puella pulchra, so pure, so perfect. Like a goddess in mortal form.”

You could do nothing but listen, to submit to the dark velvet of his dulcet tones, to close your eyes and let this fiery passion incinerate and eradicate the demons that plagued you. Ordinarily, you’d be against this, to let your shackled hands hand the reins of your petering control to another, but his providence proved otherwise. With your destiny enshrouded in so much unknown, the danger of staying and the risk of fleeing your perennial torment in the clutches of your captors yet with Rollo before you, you felt at peace. 

Fate, free-will, nothing mattered in this sanctuary he created.

His conviction begets your reprieve, his resolution ameliorates your soul from the horrors that had stained it with their inky fingerprints. The singing brushes of his fingertips cleansed you, and like a blazing phoenix, you emerged anew. 

With both great reluctance and great desperation his lips left yours and made their home at the apse of your neck, whispers of orisons against your skin, your name an endless epiclesis. 

Even with your sight inhibited, you could see the worship in his gaze, through the reverence in his touch, the cardinal way he regarded you in every action. His hands gentle yet formidable as they kept you against him, the golden shank of his ruby ring digging into you with the pads of his fingers.

“I wanted to see you again,” his deep timbre, dark, soft and smoky against your ears, “touch you, know who you were, see if I would find you identical with the ideal image of you which had remained with me and perhaps shatter my dream with the aid of reality.”

“And?” you hear yourself say, too lost in the fiery haze, too blinded by the flaming reds and golden ambers that danced under your eyes.

“At all events, I hoped that a new impression would efface the first, for the first had become intolerable to me. I sought you, Prefect, again to behold you. When I had seen you twice, I wished to see you a thousand more times, to always have you in my sight. You claim to be magicless, Angelum Meum, yet you have completely bewitched me. With you, I’m no longer my own master. You’ve become my salvation from perdition, shown me the true meaning of righteous. Please, I say in obsecration, grant me the blessing of speaking your benediction, of proving how far my devotion runs. Let me be your acolyte, your protector against the tainted crowd.”

His lips pressed against the apples of your cheeks, his hands on your waist, the fury of the flames within you.

It’s dangerous. But this fire won’t char you, won’t scar you, won’t leave you tearstained and broken.

It emboldens you, ignites the snuffed out hearth within you.

You nod once, a small jut of your chin through the keening of your throat and you slowly feel the ribbon of your nightdress tugged loose before it falls and pools at the ground at your feet.

[helloiamadrawer]

𝐶𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑒𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑠 ~𝑁𝑆𝐹𝑊 𝑉𝐸𝑅𝑆𝐼𝑂𝑁~

tw: fingering, use of a vibrator

he..kinda knew you've been a little anxious than usual lately so one day..

you were waiting for yet another adventure to end and once it did, you dashed to your room and look for your only outlet of stress..but it was gone. You were now silently panicking mumbling, "Oh no,no,no. What'd I do Caine? Was it because I didn't put all my effort into it? I promise I wi-"

"Looking for this my dear?"

You snapped your head around to the voice seeing no other than Caine holding your precious vibe, his fingers fidgeting with the ball-like tip. How the fuck did he get in your room? No, no time for questions, you wanted the relief now, the image of the set of dentures working his fingers inside of you actually sounds great too. After all, those hands did conjure up that toy..

"C-Caine, I need that, i've been really-" "overworked? I can see that. You usually would come and talk to me but im guessing it was for this contraption i conjured up for you." Caine explains still playing with the device. Not a surprise that he was this observant plus you thought that maybe he made it because he knew you liked him when you first entered the circus idk

caine's dual toned eyes scanned the room and since everyone has basically gone to their own quarters to do whatever, a discreet question popped into his head.

"Perhaps you would like me to be your stress reliever?" 👉👈 (he would do this as he asks the question) "Ah! Sh!t..yes." you winced as said question sent your face ablaze and an ache in your loins causing a sharp pain in between your legs. The ringleader approaches you as he puts the vibe down on your nightstand.

He scoops you up in his arms and in an instant pins you down to the mattress by your wrists as the ringleader gave you light literal love bites across your shoulders up to the nape of your neck, his hands slowly let go of your wrists as they languidly traveled down from your chest, shaping down your waist until they stop at the center of your thighs, rubbing your clit through your panties.

You couldn't lie though, Caine's hands are godly touching every crevice of your human form, and since he chose to be a tease, it's made you be a little more louder than usual. "Oh god Caine~please I-" you whine, your back arching from the stimulation. This was the perfect embellishment that Caine fantasized for a long time, it's like he's almost dreaming.

His free hand snaps as your vibrator appeared in his grasp as he replaces his hand with the vibe on the highest mode against your now sensitive nub, rubbing it in a circle, causing you to yelp at the sudden sensation. The pleasure was increasing by the minute and you were already praising his name for more but you couldn't make it out cause it felt so damn good.

"lovely sounds my dear~" the ringleader purrs, '' I've been hearing them ever since I gave you this..device..I would have stopped you but the name I heard you sing out one day--" "C-caine~..i'm gonna cum"

"Like that, yes. I must have made the right decision." his thumb turns off the vibe, you whine for the pleasure to come back until he discards your panties and quickly inserts two fingers into your wet,needy hole starting a fast thrusting pace. The intrusion was pure bliss as you threw your head back and rode out your orgasm on his hand, moaning your last string of curses.

Stress? Gone.

[jmdbjk]

Golden

Kookie had a runny nose. He said when he's just hanging out with nothing to do he's fine but as soon as things start ramping up and getting hectic, the cold that won't go away comes back. Jimin was on to something when he said he was concerned about Jungkook staying healthy with such a busy schedule.

As usual he has stayed true to himself and I admire that a person of his age can be so honest about himself.

He was trying to keep it real and said things to lower everyone's expectations: About writing songs, he said he can't really write songs. He said he just doesn't have it in him. He said when he tries it always ends up being about Army.

He wondered if it was because he was so simple. This is what makes me love him as just a human being: he says things about himself that WE might not agree with but that he feels about himself. He's just so honest and unpretentious, and he doesn't even try to be that, he just is himself.

He said he thinks he doesn't have the intellect and that he doesn't have anything to write about, and if he HAD things to write about, he couldn't say them prettily and that there are so many other talented creators that he would just fall short. He mentioned RM, Yoongi, Hobi... they are so talented.

It is understandable that Kookie, being last, he saw what the other members did, and truly, it had to be intimidating. He may never feel confident enough but I bet if he gives it a try he’ll do great.

All of what he said adds another nuance as to why he said “something amazing" is coming when he did that live back in March and Set Me Free Pt 2 was about to drop. He saw how hard Jimin worked through that process and the end result WAS amazing. Intimidating indeed.

Perhaps he still needs to live some life before he can have enough emotional baggage to pour out some lyrics (lol). Give it time, Kookie, life will throw some shit at you. Or maybe expressing whatever is inside of him will never come out in words to a song. And its ok. Not everyone is a songwriter or poet.

I can accept this album as "this is where he is in his life right now". He said they worked fast. That's a lot to accomplish in the amount of time from start to finish.

My thoughts on the songs...

The lyrics to several of these songs are a little ... meh..., sort of disconnected. THAT BEING SAID... I can see some lyrics that probably did resonate with him.

But I am not going to focus so much on the lyrics but more on JK's vocal work and think about how he was trying to sing and pronounce well. THAT is what he was trying to do. He said lyrics are lyrics and images are images... they are not meant to be autobiographical so the lyrics will be secondary to the vocal production for me.

Jungkook explained that the pronunciation was a challenge. The producers each had their own idea of how the lyrics should be delivered to achieve the color of the song. English not being JK's first language, he was coached on what to do in the studio. He said especially pronouncing the "EEE" sound was a challenge.

I recognize some sounds that seem trendy. Some of the songs remind me of other songs I've heard in the past by other artists.

Closer has that flute and Afro beat that reminds me of another song but I just can't remember it right now.

Standing Next to You is giving me Michael Jackson Rock With You from his Off the Wall album or Remember the Time off his Dangerous album. A rockin' groove... "... when it's deep like DNA..." and "leave your body golden like the sun and the moon..." yes, those lyrics definitely resonate.

Yes or No, I can definitely hear the Ed Sheeran throughout that song. A nice song about that first thrill of love. Ed Sheeran is a great song writer. I've always liked his work.

Please Don't Change would probably be the song that comes closest to expressing how Jungkook feels about his fans. Though his life has been spent on camera, things might change and if he's no longer on camera, he'll still be the same but he hopes we please don't change. This song also has the same little flute sound as Closer.

Hate You. This is the Shawn Mendes song. It is one of those angsty relationship songs that are popular now like what Olivia Rodrigo and her ilk does. If Jungkook had not gotten this song, I could see it easily going to a female artist. It's quite painful. Kookie does a great job expressing the tragic drama of it all with his vocals.

Somebody is where he really lets loose with his range. Its a sad song. Like many, his opening lines had me doing a double take. I don't think we've ever heard Jungkook sing in this tone before? Very nice.

Too Sad To Dance. This is the kind of song I think Jungkook could write. It is simple and straightforward. The song is cute and poignant at the same time. He was able to keep his tone simple to match the vibe, he didn’t try to make it over the top… I love this song especially the very last line: "...you don't need no one to dance..." Stand on your own and be yourself, just like Kookie is doing.

Shot Glass Full of Tears is the best song on the album. There, I said it. He really reached down and brought JUST enough edge into his voice to pull it off. I could actually get emotional over this song. I will repeat, this is the best song on the album.

Well done, Jungkook.

Overall, Kookie is relieved the pressure is off. Now he can get out there and do what he’s knows he can do and that’s performing

And then he said it again: BTS is the most important thing to him.

Kookie knew he had to do this album. And now he's done it and ready to move forward.

When he finally realized Tae had commented:

The panic over his house not being clean hahahahahah!

Because he wasn't sure what kind of chaos they were going to bring to his house, Kookie ended the live in a stress-clean panic.

My, what a turn of events... not long ago he was laying in bed naked causing mayhem trying to convince Jimin to let him come over and take a shower and now here they come to his house bringing trouble LMAO!

I hope they had a great evening together. I loved seeing Tae and Jimin out and about, it really hits a spot in my heart.

A little while ago, I picked up a copy of Golden at Target, I don't know which photo card is the Target exclusive but this is what I got:

It's a nice package with a hard cover photo book and a case it slides into. The stickers are nice. Jungkook was wearing an earring with the that motif so I suppose it will show up as merch on the Weverse shop soon.

Anyway, that's my review of Golden.

[aviradasa]

The sight of two stars

Aaravos x Startouched elf! Reader

(art from Pinterest if you know the original artist let me know so I can give proper credit!!)

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

{Fluff}

warning: none

I had this idea for a while about Aaravos with a reader who likes to find constellations on his skin and I started this oneshot expecting it to take a completely different path but I love how it turned out and I'm low key proud with the idea. The execution is not my best work but we have fun here!😂. Anywho, I hope y'all enjoy! I hope this will be able to hold you over for a few more days as I have 3 more one shots/images in the making that should come out shortly! Anyway, it's almost 3 am and I have to drive for 5 hours back home tomorrow 😭.

(ps:I had to make up a constellation for this that sounded more magical so I did! But all the other constellations are either from the show or a real constellation!)

Don't forget you can leave a request! I will link my master list here make sure you read before requesting! Love you all my little goblins 🖤

I have always loved the night sky And everything that belongs to it. I've especially always been drawn to constellations. The way the stars are set just perfectly to make a work of art when in reality they are so far from one another that they are not aware that their portrait is beautiful in a way.

It's been so long since I was able to gaze upon them. Being imprisoned for centuries with no windows or fresh air is a burden in itself, But losing my Night sky, it almost felt like I had lost myself. Well, I didn't lose all of myself. My lovely husband keeps me Sane (When he's not driving me Insane).

He's the reason I’m here in the first place. What is it with dragons anyway, It was just a couple of war crimes and whatnot, And I wasn't even involved. With the crimes that is. yes, I may have given my lovely starman some ideas every once in a while, But I never got my hands dirty. I was just a performer, Singing and dancing in town squares, Taverns, inns you name it. But alas here we are. Here I am. Stuck in this hell, with no sky, just that Damned mirror. I hate that mirror, Well I hate being in range of that mirror. To know someone could be watching me from the other side unnerves me and I avoid it at all cost.

I hear the door open to the room I have placed myself in, another room in this prison. It's a little library with books on all sorts of things. it's my favorite spot in this wretched place. My little slice of heaven.

I glance up from my book watching Aaravos enter the room with that cloak on, I can’t help but love the way he looks in it, and with the way I look at him, I’m worse than any man.

“My love, Why do you gaze at me in such a way? I can feel your eyes from here” He teases, taking his cloak off and hanging in on a small hook by the tall doors before looking over at me with that Smirk he gives. I love this elf but by the Divines why must he do this?

I shake my head with a chuckle, placing my bookmark in the spot I left off before closing my book. Setting it down gently on the table beside the little sofa I've curled up on. “ Am I not allowed to admire you?.’ I jokingly ask with a small grin as I allow him to take a seat beside me.“So how was your dramatic entrance? Did that Dark mage see you this time like you wanted?” I ask turning to face him resting my arm on the back of the sofa and using my hand to prop up my head.

“Everything went according to plan. His candle went out. I went in, confused him, and left. Just as Intended.” He tells me with a cocky smile.

“Now everything should fall into place, he’s a curious desperate, power-hungry human. That is just the combination we are looking for if we wish to get out of here.” I say with some excitement,

“but my love do not get cocky yet because if one little piece is lost, broken, or forgotten, we will be stuck here. And If we are stuck in here for another century I will skin you alive.” I warn with a stern expression before I chuckle a bit.

He laughs a bit “ No you wouldn’t, 'cause then you would be all alone in this place and we both know you couldn't take that.” He says pulling me closer to his side.

“What are you talking about? Some peace and quiet would be lovely. Maybe then I could finish my book.” I joke as I adjust to get a bit more comfortable. “Ah yes, what book are you reading currently again? It was something to do with the differences between human interpretations of constellations and Elven interpretations correct?” he asks genuinely curious about my interest,

He remembers my love of the night like no other, for he loved it as well. but now it's hard to remember what it's like. Of course, there are illustrations in the books but those illustrations can only capture so much, yes some books do better than others but the true beauty of the night sky can only truly be appreciated in person. Well, maybe something can come close.

“Yes that's right, and honestly humans need to get a bit more creative. I mean they Named Garlath the Annihilator the Big Spoon… Because they thought it looked like a spoon." I say with sarcasm as I roll my eyes. “ and also they call Leolas' last wish the South Star. Talk about imagination.'' I speak with disappointment. Aaravos just simply chuckles “Those names the humans gave them came to be long before this generation, they are simple and easy for their minds to comprehend but I do agree they were quite lazy.” he says in agreement.

I think he gives them too much credit. but what can I say I lost patience with humans during my time performing. Aaravos on the other hand has plenty, but then again he was more respected by them due to the whole giving them magic ordeal which I understand but still, humans are like an annoying younger sibling. you love them and would do what you could to protect them from others, but you would definitely rip their vocal cord out and strangle them with it as soon as they call you ugly.

I sigh “Perhaps I'm a bit harsh on them sometimes, but I can't help it. I feel like I'm losing my mind here, I'm not even sure how much time has passed anymore.” I explain as I absentmindedly trace little patterns on his freckled arm that rests around my waist, as I'm doing this a particularly bright star freckle brings my mind back into focus and I notice something. “Wait a moment…” I say suddenly as Aaravos gives me a confused look “What is it?” he asks simply before I place my thumb over the spot on his arm to not lose it reaching over I grab my book and open it to a certain page leaving him to his confusion as i scan the books page.

“Aha! I thought that looked familiar, darling." I say lifting my thumb off the spot on his arm and placing the book's page next to it. The page has an illustration of a constellation on it, and it just so happens that the little star freckles on his arm connect to make the same one. “Hm well isn't that interesting? I had not noticed that none yet ” he says, grabbing the book from my hand to examine it.

“ Well it says that it's called the eye of Izora, it has 8 stars on top making the upper eyelid, and 5 stars that make up the bottom. The iris is made up of 4 stars in between with the pupil being a completely different constellation (Leola’s last wish). The eye has 7 stars above it making it appear as though the eye has three separate eyelashes with another 7 on the bottom doing the same. In the human kingdoms, it's not known” he reads with a hint of interest. He looks between the book and the spot on his wrist where I found the constellation.

“ isn't that interesting? Oh, I just love finding new ones they are harder to find on you than they are on me for some reason.." I tell you with a grin, snatching the book back. I search through the pages as I scan the rest of his arm looking for more connections. this is one of my favorite things to do, I've found plenty of constellations on myself but with Aaravos they are harder to find because he has a lot more stars on him then I do and they make it harder to connect them,

Minutes pass before I find another new one… It was right in front of us but my eyes couldn't make it out right away. “I see one right there but I can't make out what that one is, It's definitely something though. Can you tell what it is?” I ask Aaravos looks at it for a moment, tilting his head to the side a bit trying to get another angle to look at it but failing.

he seems to think for a moment before he grabs a quill out of the inkpot that sits on the end table next to the sofa, he places the tip of the quill on his skin tracing in between the stars on his arm. As I look through the book I hear him hum “It looks like a scorpion look it up in the book I think we finally found it.” he says, showing me the connected lines.

“I think you're right.” I say glancing at his armbefore turning to the next page and seeing the scorpion-like constellation, it matches the one on his arm and I grin “We found it, I knew it was around here somewhere, we all have our star sign on us, yours just was hiding all these years.” I laugh and he does too “I found it once before I believe but I lost it and didn't find it again until now.” he says holding it up

“ well maybe once we get out of here you should get it tattooed so you don't lose where it is again.” I joke And Aaravos laughs a bit “My love you know I would never do that, it's not my style, besides I am already vastly decorated anyways.’ he says in a kind of sassy tone. As we both laugh some more

As the day? Night? Carried on We both continued our search for more constellations on his skin. It wasn't long before we had mapped out at least a dozen from his wrist to his shoulder connecting the stars with thin lines of writing ink that was smudging in some places but neither of us cared because this was one of the few moments where neither of us are frantically searching or planning. It was just us, then again it's always just us, but moments like this bring us back to reality when we didn't even realize we were drifting away from ourselves, and each other. I know we are gonna make it out of this prison one day, and once we do I know it's going to be just the two of us against all of Xadia. But that's ok I know we will be able to take care of it. And at least I'll have my night sky back.

[ultraericthered]

A tale of two evil Disney kings.

I put this out not to make any statement about how one villain compares to the other, but to compare how similar in the spirit and the details of their evilness these two are; the last straight up Big Bad of a Disney animated movie before the next decade and the first straight up Big Bad of a Disney animated movie we've gotten since.

And I also want to touch upon something that confounds me.

King Magnifico, despite the film teasing at him being a nuanced and even sympathetic character at first, ended up becoming a villain vile and irredeemably heinous enough to be upvoted as a Complete Monster on TV Tropes. Majority vote approved, so that's fair. ...But Turbo, the dude with a similar rap sheet, is still not only ruled a non-example, he's in the "never to be discussed again" category for all the nixing of adding him to the trope ever since 2012. Because why, exactly? I am legitimately finding no good justification for this now.

Turbo locked away his subjects' memories within Sugar Rush's code without giving them any say on the matter (whereas with Magnifico it's at least a contractual arrangement between him and the people who give their wishes to him), and while the Sugar Rush characters don't appear to be acting all that off in any way besides not remembering Vanellope, no one in Rosas really seems to be suffering, depressed, dispirited, and poor off from having given up their wishes and forgotten about them either: it's a frequent criticism that they all seem to happy and prospering, and that the bad side of Magnifico's reign is more told to us than shown. The suffering only really visibly occurs on-screen when Magnifico takes and breaks the wishes (though even then it's written off as "making people feel sad" by a lot of watchers, so it's not easy to argue it's all that heinous). And sure, Turbo's manipulation of Ralph left Ralph with more of a choice to make regarding Vanellope's cart and her ability to race compared to Magnifico with Simon, but that could be argued to make Turbo that much more insidious and reprehensible in his approach.

And then we have Cy-Bug Turbo vocally making clear his intent to overtake all games in the arcade he chooses and forcing Ralph to watch the Cybugs attack Vanellope, comparable to Magnifico vocally making clear his intent to break all wishes in Rosas in order to enslave the despirited masses forever and forcing them all to watch him torture Asha. Yes, the latter might hit harder since it's such a betrayal of all the people he was supposed to be protecting and caring for, but that doesn't make Turbo's climactic villainy any less heinous. Turbo lacks magic powers, he's just a program who overrode that of a Cy-Bug and intends to make full use of the bug's capabilities to infect the lifeblood of other games and to physically harm others, namely Ralph, who he tells straight to his face that he wants to kill. And like Magnifico with the dark magic tome, Turbo's code merging with the Cy-Bug doesn't destroy his moral agency, it only makes him into a more unhinged, unfiltered and destructive version of the same cruel, egomaniacal asshole he already was. The fact that he uses the words "virus", "arcade", and "game" in the same sentence proves he's not merely another instinctive Cy-Bug; he knows exactly what he's doing, and sets out to hurt countless others knowing that he's hurting them not caring, and even relishing it.

Well at least we have other trope wikis to look to if we wish to find Turbo under his rightful classification. He is a Complete Monster, period. With the raw deal TV Tropes has given him for over a whole decade, he's the one who should sing "This Is The Thanks I Get?"

Yes, I am aware that the Complete Monster trope is not a badge of honor or trophy for whatever villain ends up on it,

No, I could not pass up this image.

[cats-obsessions]

Dark Urge/Gortash

Just a Drabble I cant get out of my head- Durge is able to recover more of his memories along his travels back to Baldurs Gate, and Orin doesn’t bother telling Gortash that her kin has returned.

“Hello, Lordling”

The Dark Urge, Son of Bhaal, Nox leans back against the old, mahogany desk in his dear friend, Gortash’s office where he’s been waiting, ever patiently, for the tyrant to arrive.

It’s luxurious to a point Nox had once found gaudy, but the room gives him a warm feeling in his chest now.  Some parts of his memories echo through his empty brain as mere feelings and impressions. Some remain vivid, yet the bulk of what he could access shows glimpses of his life only in the months before Orin’s attack, but he knows they go deeper. Flashes of late night scheming, shared heists, interrogations, pools of blood, carefully plotted assassinations, then, the smell of avernus clinging to their skin amidst a first kiss. All of it went back to him- Gortash, not Bhaal. Not his fathers wishes or the Urge or even the temple. Everything in Nox’s empty brain was bringing him here.

He let his companions greet the new archduke on their own, but he watched from the shadows, the disappointment in Gortash’s eyes betraying the tyrant, but this was a meeting better had in privacy. The very same newly coronated archduke stands in front of him now for the first time in only the gods know how long.

“Fuck off,” Gortash grumbles, a tight frown on his face. The large double doors of the office swing closed behind him. As their eyes meet, Nox can see the extent of exhaustion that permeates the tyrant’s being. Circles much darker than usual shroud his near-black eyes. His hair had grown in the past two months, resting on his collarbones in disarray. Even the way he breathes sings of discontent.

Nox tilts his head, unmoving from his spot on the lord’s desk “Not the welcome home I was hoping for. I can understand your anger, but-”

“-Orin” the duke hisses sharply, “I have better things to do than this. As do you. Make yourself useful for once.”

Orin. Something in Nox’s chest sinks with the realization, “She’s been mocking you with my face? Gods- I’m going to kill that inbred little bitch the second I see her” he growls.

That earned a raised eyebrow from Enver, but the duke keeps wary eyes trained on his assassin “I’m not playing your games this time” he sighs.

“I assure you, Enver, I am not here to play games.”

Nox watches as Gortash moves across the room to his liquor cabinet against the wall, fine wood gilded in gold. The duke’s eyes stay trained on him, even as he begins to pour a glass of fine, amber whiskey. “Yes, yes, you will slash me in two, bathe in my blood, and what was it-” Gortash pauses to take a long, slow sip, sighing once again “-wear my intestines as a scarf? No matter- all the same, uncouth drabble with you.”

“Not until the end. And not like that. I won’t kill you until- unless we are the last two living in all the realm. First you, then me.” Nox clenches his fingers, his jaw tightening and untightening as he feels the images of Enver’s death set in behind his eyes. The Urge whispers for him to take the Banite now, but he knows better. He takes a slow, deep breath, reaching instinctively to the band around his wrist. He focuses on the feelings to ground himself for a moment before continuing. “I believe that was the promise I made you before- Well, things are hazy- a lobotomy does that to you.”

Enver stops, his glass half raised to his lips as his eyes widen. Nox can nearly see his thoughts, debates. He’s questioning if Orin could have such knowledge, if Orin could keep calm this long in a conversation, if Orin could push down her Urge. Nox gives a lopsided smile as he continues. “I don’t remember everything, but I remember you. I came back for you- to stand by you. As we are meant to be.”

It only takes a few seconds for Gortash to cross the room, his glass crashing into the golden tray below it, well abandoned; and Nox smiles, allowing his shirt collar to be grasped tightly in the duke’s hands. Gortash crowds his space, leering at him. There’s venom in his expression, but just below that lies hope.

“Prove it or die.”

How many times had Orin tried this? How many times did she dangle Nox in front of Enver? Did she pretend to return to him just like this? Or simply take his form to berate the tyrant lord? The thought makes the teifling’s blood boil. But he will save that rage for later.

Nox huffs out a chuckle, “If I were Orin, I would have my fucking dagger, and this goddamn tadpole wouldn’t be in my head, Enver.”

His words are enough, and Gortash yanks the collar of his shirt forward until they are pressed against each other, their lips colliding in a rough, forceful kiss that dissolves into desperation. For Nox, it’s familiar and new all at once as if he were acting out a scene he had only seen in a play; he knew Enver’s taste, his smell, the way he was rough and gentle all at once. Yet, feeling it rather than seeing it through a haze of lost memories and confusion was enough to make his knees weak.

“You have a tadpole in your head. You gods damned idiot.” Enver smiled against his lips, words devoid of venom. His hands move up to cup Nox’s face, warm gold of Gortash’s gauntlets pressing against his cheeks. “I have missed you so, my dearest.”

“I missed you, too.” Nox chuckles, and his cheeks warm up as if the words were meant to stay inside his mind- as if he was supposed to be ashamed by such thoughts, but the way Enver pulls him closer makes him think perhaps it is okay not to be ashamed about some things. Perhaps, whatever lingering worry circles in his mind from before does not matter anymore.

[not-goldy]

https://www.tumblr.com/not-goldy/748392902553649152/httpswwwtumblrcomnot-goldy748386443834048512?source=share

Let's make one thing clear i wasn't the og anon who asked you about the "did jungkook said all those vile things to jm" but i did saw it so i commented on it and i stand by the fact that making fun of someone's looks when the said person is insecure about his looks is "evil" cause it is. The male treat e/o differently bs you can keep to yourself cause teasing is one thing but making fun of someone's insecurity is not the same get that fact clear.

Did i anywhere said jungkook is not jimin's friend? NO i did not so idk exactly what y'all are yapping about. Did i say "And jk is the standard of love for jkkrs" refering to his past self which jkkrs romanticize and glorify? Yes i did. so now what all it means is i said jungkook is not "the partner" for jimin and i never commented on their friendship and there's difference between friendship and romantic relationship. You can't always chose your friends or even best friends as your romantic partner cause you don't feel it and it doens't work like that. Just because someone's friends with you doens't mean you see them as your partner cause you want more and different. Also the ppl who says we make jm looks pathetic nahh bro fact here is it's you who love the "jm fell first jk fell harder" edits not us. Jm is sweetheart with everyone and he especially takes care of his younger ones, he babies V too who's literally 2 months younger than him. Just because jk learned how to be nice over the years doens't mean it can erase what he said when he was 18-19-20 yrs old. He did say all those things to jm it is what it is.

About the anon who said you have been waiting for jm and jk to reveal their partners from 2017 cause ppl said so then you and those people both are dumb cause why on earth would you think they're gonna reveal their partners at their peak?? By revealing their partners i completely mean them officially introducing and CONFIRMING their partners which is also not the case with taennie (i know they dated but they never confirmed so doens't fit in what i mean). Like they debuted in 2013 and you were expecting their partner's official reveal in 2017 cause some ppl said so? Lol. But here i say wait for some more years. Let them get to the age of 35-40 and you'll see. And the list you posted to show how jungkook treats jm can be applied to how jungkook treats other members too then, so maybe he's dating them too (again except one gcft yet). Btw we all did saw jungkook with a woman at night in his apartment, back hugging her....yes he doesn't have a gc now but does that earse the exsistance of that video? The times when jkkrs were like "he's missing his love of life jm" while the guy was having women at his home? Sure. He was missing jm so much that rather visiting jm at any of his sets or anything like other members jungkook was at home doing lives singing songs live..i see how much he was missing. I'm not telling this because i expected that from him it's because y'all make big deal out of nothing.

Anyways, idt y'all gonna be here after those many yrs but if y'all stay I'd love to see that reaction.

Again with the anachronisms

I'm running out of patience here-

When did you find out Jimin was insecure about his looks??? 2013, 2014? 2015 when he was in his hypermasculine state doing 360 flips in the air, flexing his biceps, talking bout girls chasing him, when he was strong confident in his masculinty and showing it off- is this the same year he opened up about his vulnerabilities???

In fact when did Jimin discuss this self image issue???

And when was Jungkook teasing Jimin????

Making fun of his insecurities bitch you're crazy. Lost it. Pulling stuff from your ass get a life cos your whole existence is an illusion.

In your crazy delusional head what did you think was happening???

Poor poor insecure Jimin walking around shy hiding from people explaining to everyone he has body image issues while his younger maknae followed him around pointing to him telling the world his biceps was fake his abs had been drawn on????

Same Jimin who had the hyung line busting their ass off to catch up? Same Jimin whom the company used as a model for the others to emulate Same Jimin whom the company preferred him showcasing his gorgeous body and the others had to work had to attain his level of physique but even that they were still passed over for Jimin???

Same Jimin?????

Use your brains for a sec, with the way he looked and the way he carried himself around who could tell he was feeling insure??? You only know that NOW years forward into the future when he opened up and not the actual moment it was happening.

You think Jungkook would play like that with him if he knew any of that ? And ever since he'd become like that- well as you put it, he's been "nice".

Well well well

Again confirming my diagnosis of you and your kind

"Just because JK has learned to be nice over the years don't erase what he said and did when he was 18 19 20

Actually he was 15, 16, 17 you creep.

Also you are not saying anything we don't know. Like I said WE KNOW HOW YALL WORK you not difficult to figure out.

At least you admitting he's a nice person others of your kind have a hard time admitting that.

If you want to Judge a grown man you claim is nice over his playful ribbings with HIS FRIENDS WHILE HE WAS A MINOR that's your crazy to deal with.

But do tell that to your new recruits and the impressionable minds you try to twist and brainwash like the fine Tuktukker relative you are.

I simply disagree with you. That's all.

I don't see any of what he said and did as malicious. He did it with everyone and especially Taehyung. Jimin simply wasn't comfortable with that which is fine because he's after all not a very typical or traditional male in every sense of the word and how was Jungkook to know he couldn't just toss him around and throw him in the air and break his back like he was doing his other friends.

We all have our idiosyncrasies and I think BTS work so well because they have learned to respect eachother's boundaries- well some of them.

I think if that was Jimins boundaries he is entitled to his boundaries and all anyone can do is respect those boundaries.

But I'm starting to also appreciate why JK solos would equally hate Jimin and Jimin stans like you.

I mean for one he was also constantly disturbing that dude trying to kiss him and bug him when CLEARLY JUNGKOOK ALSO DIDN'T WANT THAT especially as it was done publicly. For an introverted fella I can see how stressful that whole experience must have been for him 🥺🥺🥺🥺

Poor poor guy 🥲

Respect goes both ways Anon.

You can't insist on your boundaries while also constantly pushing someone else's. Especially since Jungkook was the shy type and didn't like being the center of attention. If someone doesn't want to be bothered or doesn't want to be friends with you you leave them alone. You don't act sad about it on camera and inadvertently put your fans on their back.

I'm open to discussing all the toxic things Jimin did as a teen with you since you enjoy living in the past but ll rather redirect you to another toxic Jk solo who is equally stuck in the past as you so you two can take each other out.

For me, jikook grew and I grew with them.

Take care.

[oliversrarebooks]

The Rare Bookseller Part 23: Alexander's Purchase

Masterlist

September 1925

TW: Captivity, mind control, human auction

Oliver regained his senses to the sound of chaos and commotion all around him. He was bouncing in midair, and it took him a moment to realize that he was being carried by Miss Lily. They had left the stage and were headed down a hallway filled with auction patrons.

His head was still reeling. He'd been bought by Lord Alexander. Lord Alexander had bought him for twenty thousand dollars. How could he possibly be worth that much? He'd just been sold. He had an owner. What would Lord Alexander be like? What happened --

"Ooh, you did so well, you beautiful perfect dear!" Miss Lily was singing happily. "You have made me so much money."

"I have, sir?" said Oliver, dazed.

"That's right! Colette took you, so she gets fifty percent, but since I was your primary handler and conditioner, I get twenty five. That's five thousand, if that rat Colette doesn't try to cheat me out of it," she explained eagerly. "And I conditioned a lot of the other merchandise, and get a cut from each one. I'm going to get that new phonograph I've had my eye on, and, ooh, a new fur coat, maybe silver mink..." She trailed off, lost in her daydream.

"Do you... do you deliver me to Lord Alexander now, sir?"

"Oh, no," she said, the question snapping her back to reality. "Not usually. We'll have to wait for the check to clear or the money wire to come through or what have you, and then we'll deliver you. Eager to see your new owner, are you?"

New owner. He wasn't sure if he was or not. "I was merely wondering, sir."

Miss Lily carried Oliver into a small room that held little more than a desk and a few chairs, kicking the door shut behind her. "We do need to complete the transaction first. Colette will bring him here so we can finalize everything." She set Oliver back on his feet, her hands hovering nearby in a way that indicated she was ready to catch him again if he fainted. "So, my dear, did things turn out how you wanted?"

An image flashed through his mind of the life he thought he might have, of cultivating his little bookshop, of visiting local cafes and museums, of growing old with the city. And then it was gone. "Yes, sir, that was what I wanted," he said. "Will Lord Alexander treat me well, sir?"

"Oh, absolutely. I've known him for ages. He's a grumpy sort, but a real peach with a soft spot for humans. His last thrall lived better than most vampires do."

"Last thrall, sir?" said Oliver with a twinge of fear.

"Alexander has a number of enemies," said Miss Lily. "But it's nothing you need to worry your pretty head about. He'll be extra protective with you, I'm sure."

Oliver nodded, processing this new source of terror that he hadn't previously considered. And Alexander, who had warned him of the auction, had known Lily all along...

The door swung open, and Oliver immediately recognized Miss Colette, the vampire who had kidnapped him on his last night of freedom. A cold, panicky sensation settled in his gut as he recalled how scared and helpless he'd been when she'd frozen him to the spot and carried him out of his beloved bookstore, and he retreated behind Miss Lily slightly, as though she were some kind of ally here.

"There's the prize sow!" said Miss Colette, turning Oliver's stomach. "And the lady of the hour. You really outdid yourself with this one, Lily."

"I trust I'll be receiving my full pay, then. Twenty five," Miss Lily said with a fake smile.

"Of course! Wouldn't dream of anything else," said Miss Colette dismissively. She opened the door and peeked out, waving someone in. "This way, gentleman."

Lord Alexander entered the room. Their eyes met. And Oliver was frozen to the spot more surely than he'd been the night he'd been kidnapped.

"Now, then, to business," said Miss Colette. "Twenty thousand, and if you could sign this paperwork..."

Lord Alexander took the clipboard from her, skimming down each page before signing it. 

"And if you require any additional services, any conditioning or training --"

"That won't be necessary." He then took out a wallet, filling out a check and handing it to Miss Colette. "Here's your money. I'll be taking my thrall, now," he said. "Excellent job, Lily. We need to catch up sometime. It's been too long."

"Now, hold on, Lord Alexander," said Miss Colette. "We can't release your thrall to you until the check has cleared. It shouldn't take more than a few nights, and then we'll deliver him right away."

Lord Alexander scowled. "You're not keeping my thrall." His tone of voice, the way he practically growled the words "my thrall," sent shivers down Oliver's spine.

"He'll be returned to our secure holding facility, where he'll be --"

"I won't have my thrall kept in some nasty prison cell, guarded by half-witted newborn vampires that pass for security guards," said Lord Alexander. "If a single hair on his head is harmed -- "

Colette bristled. "Our facilities are safe --"

"Like hell I'll --"

"I'll take him, Lex," said Miss Lily, before the argument could escalate. "It's hardly any trouble, considering I'm lining my pockets with so much of your fortune, and I'll be staying at the auction house until the thralls have all been cleared out anyway."

Lord Alexander relaxed a bit. "You'll keep him safe, then?"

"I'll keep him locked away with Miriam. They'll get along well, and you know I wouldn't let anything happen to my Miriam," she said reassuringly. "Besides, I've grown a bit fond of him."

Lord Alexander took a long, hard look at Oliver, an unmistakably possessive look, and Oliver felt his mind bend.

His new owner.

"Fine, fine, if that's how it must be," said Alexander, breaking his gaze, "I'd far prefer him with you -- even with the tight spot you put me in."

"Then it's settled!" Collette clapped her hands together. "If you'd like to do any final inspection of your merchandise, Lord Alexander..."

"Just one word to him," he said, approaching Oliver. 

He was close. Oliver could smell a faint whiff of lavender soap, or perhaps perfume. "You'll be under my protection, Oliver, such as I can manage," he said. "I'll do my level best to be a good master."

Master. "Thank you, sir. Thank you for buying me."

He truly meant that, given the alternative. If Lord Alexander hadn't known him, hadn't taken such an interest in him, he would have surely ended up in an animal pen.

"You needn't thank me for that. I bought you primarily for my own pleasure," he said. 

He took Oliver's chin in his hand, oh so gently, and tilted his head back and forth, gazing on his neck. Oliver could feel his mind flooding with submission as Alexander brushed a spot on his neck, just a little above his left shoulder. That must be the place -- the place where he would drink.

"If there's any mistreatment of you before you're delivered to me, remember it. I wish to hear of it," he said sternly. "But you can trust Lily. It shouldn't be difficult for you to be obedient for her, will it?"

"Not at all... sir..." He was so eager to please.

"Is there anything in particular you would like procured for you before you arrive? Anything you can't live without."

"...Books... sir..."

There was a moment of silence, and then Lord Alexander snapped his fingers near Oliver's face. "Wake, Oliver."

Oliver startled out of the hypnosis he'd slipped into. "Sorry, sir. Did I say something wrong?"

"I asked if you needed me to procure something for you, and you told me books. I have books. Quite a few of them. And you know this," he said. "You really are quite easily entranced, aren't you?"

"I suppose I am, sir."

"Well, that's not a problem. I'l have to be mindful of it, though," he said. "Anything apart from books that you'd like?"

This time, Oliver actually considered the question. "May I have coffee, sir?"

"Of course. I drink it myself," he said. "Anything else?"

"I'm... not sure... sir. Food?" His head was still too fuzzy to think, already exhausted from the auction house, and he wasn't sure what it would be okay to ask for. Could he ever fetch his possessions from the bookshop, or were they lost for good?

"That's fine. I'll provide you with all of the basics -- food, toiletries, sundries. We'll make a list of your favorites. And if there's anything else you think of, we'll simply get it when you've arrived."

"That sounds very agreeable, sir."

"Good. Then if everything's settled here, I had better take my leave. I need to make it back to the city before the sun rises."

"Yes, sir."

Lord Alexander wasn't moving. He was looking at Oliver. Looking at his eyes. His face. And especially that spot on his neck. Oliver felt trapped in his gaze.

"Are you finished here, Lord Alexander?" said Miss Colette shortly.

"Yes, I am. Farewell, Oliver, Lily," he said, sweeping out the door, Colette following after.

"Well, it looks as if you're stuck with me for a little while," said Miss Lily jovially. "But you needn't worry. If I treat you wrong, Alexander will have my head -- if he isn't already inclined to drive a stake through my heart. Is there anything special you'd like to eat? Anything at all. You've certainly earned your keep, and I'd like to get something nice for Miriam as well."

"Roast chicken, sir?" he said, hoping he wasn't asking for too much.

"Splendid idea! I'll catch a servant and order up a whole roast chicken and whatever side dishes they have in the kitchen. And cake. And a bottle of dry white wine." She hooked an arm around Oliver's and led him from the room. "We should celebrate, don't you think?"

"I don't see why not, sir."

Part 22 >> Masterlist >> Part 24

Thank you for reading this story about an emotionally significant financial transaction.

@d-cs @latenightcupsofcoffee @thecyrulik @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @wanderinggoblin @whumpyourdamnpears @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are @pressedpenn @pigeonwhumps @amusedmuralist @snakebites-and-ink @sl33py-pup @ivycloak @irregular-book @whumpsoda @mj-or-say10 @pokemaniacgemini @whumpshaped @whumpsday @morning-star-whump @shinyotachi @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl @steh-lar-uh-nuhs

[musingsanddrabbles]

Anonymous asked:

I don’t necessarily have an exact prompt but just maybe something sweet or fluffy with Carlesme?

How About a Dance

Word count: 707 | Characters: Carlisle & Esme | No Content Warning | Time-frame: Post Volturi Confrontation, Breaking Dawn

The majority of the covens who came to testify had left after their testimony or simply followed closely behind the Volturi’s own departure. Whoever remained were seen off by Carlisle and Esme, their contribution to the Olympic coven’s safety deeply appreciated; an appreciation made known to those as they said their goodbyes.

The silence that encroached after everyone had left was almost unsettling. The last few months of their lives had been nothing but a flurry of noise and panic, plans chopping and changing. Nothing could be set in stone, no-one dared to live beyond the next hour.

With their safety now assured, Carlisle and Esme find themselves alone. Bella, Edward and Renesmee have taken themselves to their cottage, Rosalie and Emmett have gone away to one of their various wood cabins, and Alice and Jasper have taken themselves away to indulge their nomadic ways for the time being.

With the house having previously been full to the brim with vampires, being the only two occupants left has the house feeling nothing more than too big— bordering on lonely.

Esme has taken herself to their bedroom. As much as she has the whole house, she feels safest here. Snow is freshly falling outside, the sight hypnotising with vampiric sight; every single flake is noticeably different and unique. She spends hours watching snow fall most winters, utterly mesmerised by its beauty.

Carlisle finds her fairly easy. She can see his reflection in the window, his golden gaze content with the image of her and nothing else.

Eventually, he makes his way to the record player and places the needle against the spinning record. The familiar notes of Paul Whiteman’s Wonderful One replaces the comfortable silence between them, and she sees Carlisle unbutton the first three buttons of his shirt; he rolls his sleeves to his elbows before offering out his hand to Esme.

“How about a dance?”

She accepts his hand with biggest of smiles, her arms draping lazily across shoulders to clasp loosely behind his head. His own arms snake around her waist and eventually his forehead finds her own as they sway, the song the same one Edward played for them on the piano after their wedding— their first dance.

Carlisle playfully twirls her around, caramel curls brushing against his face and tickling his nose which causes him to briefly scrunch it up. Esme laughs, inviting his own before he pulls her close again and Esme’s head rests against his chest as her arms hold him around his torso.

They stand wrapped in each other’s embrace as the song finishes. Carlisle pulls back slightly only to find Esme’s eyes, gently singing the closing lyrics directly to her:

“Just you, only you; in the shadowy twilight, in silvery moonlight. There’s none like you, I adore you. My life I’ll live for you, oh, my wonderful, wonderful one.”

Esme can’t help but beam, her hands coming to rest against his chest as fingers lightly curl around the material of his shirt.

He places a kiss against her forehead, soft fingers coaxing her chin up so he can place a kiss against her lips too. He leaves for the briefest of moments to remove needle from record, opting instead for the saved playlist of 1920s love songs on his iPod to avoid scratching vinyl.

Before they can continue their dancing, he’s on one knee as he was all those years ago, a ring held between them in the daintiest of boxes.

“Will you do me the honour of renewing our vows?”

Just like then Esme feels him steal away her breath, but not before she can whisper yes.

Carlisle whisks her off her feet, his smile as wide as her own before placing her back down and drawing her into the deepest of kisses, one that hadn’t been shared between them like this since Alice’s vision.

He slips the ring onto her finger, capturing her hand so he can hold it as his other arm comes to wrap around her waist. And they dance until the sun rises, their eyes never straying too far from each other’s own, the memorisation of their features no longer fuelled by fear that that memory is all they will have left of another.

[itsagrimm]

He Who Comes From under the Water

Chapter 8 - A Fishing Line of Memories

Monster!König X she/her afab Reader

CN fear of water, mentions of previous sexual assault, drowning, women drowning or cannibalising their abusers, blood, isolation, mentions of death, accidental bondage and rope play

Notes for better understanding at the bottom!

Beta-read by the amazing @queenquazar.

2.5k words

Masterlist

I am really unsure about this one since i am dragging both character and plot development with highspeed into something dramatic that I have planned. I really would like to have some feedback on this chapter.

Time moved on like it always had. You barely remembered how the summer days had gotten longer as it all flooded into one endless string of memories, closing in above you. Just like the sun rose and set, your mood and memories changed from the highest of highs to the lowest you have ever felt. Nothing was anchoring you anymore, leaving you lost and confused in a sea of impressions.

X

First, there was the Palace.

It was an odd sight as it grew in shape with frightening inevitability.

The lake in which the Palace was built was green, dark, and deep. Surrounded by a thick forest as if blanketing the palace to keep out the harsh outside world. In the middle of it was an island. It had become the centrepiece of the ‘Half-palace’ as König called it. Half in the water, half above it. Half for you. Half for him. Like an odd creature lifting its head out of the water, the Half-palace rose from the lake, reminding you more and more of König as time progressed and the high time of summer approaching with the beginning harvests, merriments, and festivals… And weddings.

The moment König showed you the spot of your new home, you had asked for a boat. There was no way you would be able to fight and crawl your way through the forest to live there. As much as you had gotten used to being guarded and accompanied, there was no way you would ask for help every time you wanted to leave the palace for a simple stroll. At least you hoped you would not have to, not wanting to exchange one cage for another.

Much to your relief, König had obliged without any further question. And so, you had ended up with a boat, built by your fiancé to ferry you to and from the palace as you pleased.

It had a fish head (of course) and little rows for you to move it. Not that you had to do much rowing. Often rusalkis picked you up quickly, accompanied you and curiously asking you about the life on land while pushing your boat where you needed to go as if you were a cousin that rarely visited who had stories to share from far off lands.

Yes, as you had started to move on the water more often you met them - beautiful women with long hair, laughing and playing in the waters and around it. They were human - sometimes. Sometimes they were terrifying goddesses, singing songs about eating unfaithful husbands and drowning rapists. You had shivered when you had heard them the first time, the images of violence invoking memories you weren’t entirely over with. But they laughed and assured you that as long as you were no cheating husband, they would not eat you, making you smile.

“Alright then,”you had replied once, “sounds like I should not become a cheating husband then.”

They had giggled, calling you to play in the water with them but you had only waved from afar. No matter how inviting the rusalkis might be, how nice the thought of finally having friends to talk and laugh with, they were in the water. And you couldn’t imagine anything more terrifying than getting submerged in the dark abyss, be it in play or not.

X

Second, there was the net incident with König.  

Once you had tried to fish after finding an old net left by your grandfather.

It had some holes, and you spend half a day trying to fix it with the Heron giving advice about fishing and the Fox sticking around in the hopes of stealing a few bites, should you be successful.

You weren’t successful.

Instead, you had gotten yourself tangled in the net, forcing the Heron to get König as the only one with suited hands and fingers to help you free yourself instead of tearing the newly mended net into pieces.

He had laughed at the sight of you.

“Did I catch myself a bride?” He teased and you felt yourself going from irritated to relieved knowing that König would save you.

“I might have done that for you, dear.” You wiggled, showing how you had gotten yourself stuck, “Can you help me?”

He bowed down and traced the knots and threats with his eyes before tilting his head in concentration.

“May I?” he asked, and you nodded, your lips suddenly too dry and brittle for words.

His fingers felt warm on your body, not clammy like when he passed you something right out of the waters or unpleasantly hot like steam for a burned pot.

It was as if his hands belonged on you as they glided over the curve of your waist, your hip, your legs. You lowered your gaze as he untangled you, unsure if you could not breathe from the tight net around your chest or because you forgot how to. König was so close and you wanted to lean into him, stay bound in his arms. The tight threats on your skin made you feel like drunk as he moved your body with his hands like he needed to.

It was over so quickly.

“Thank you,” You rasped coarsely and he turned away from you, leaving as quickly as he had arrived to continue his work on the Half-palace.

That night was the first time you had dreamed of him. A few blurry thoughts and dreamy images of König coming into the house instead of always guarding your sleep. You felt breathless and confused as you woke up and stared at the all-familiar ceiling and not König leaning over your bed, asking you to stay the night. With you.

I am doomed. You thought as you tried to ignore the heat and warmth in your chest and abdomen, burning persistently with dreamy temptations.

It will never happen. Get used to your maidenhood for it will stay. Just be a friend to him like he had become to you. Nothing more.

X

And like a friend you had continued - pushing and locking your desires away deep within you where you kept all those little other maiden secrets.

Instead, you tried to be like you had always been. A nice smile there, a joke here. Physical touch grew rare between you as you kept away from him, not daring to taste more of his warm skin and feeling like a thief every time you accidentally did.

Sometimes, it could not be avoided when he asked for your help.

“Why are you building along the island in the lake and not just on it?” You had asked as you helped König with his hair one day. It had become a nuisance to him while building and he had requested your help to comb and braid like you did with your hair to keep it out of the way.

That’s what friends do. They help each other out. This is normal.

He shrugged, sitting before you as you weaved.

“Don’t you like plants? I saw you grow them at your house. Thought you liked that.” He answered.

His words coaxed a smile out of your concentration pressed lips.

“Yes. I do like that,” You said. “Thank you very much.”

He nodded and you protested he shouldn’t move around so much or else you would not be able to braid his hair properly which had resulted in him groaning but stilling under your fingers.

When you were done with the braid, you tied it with a band you had knotted and dyed for him.

Little things friends do for each other.

You were finished with braiding his hair. Yet you did not want to be.

He was so close, his shoulders strong and that pleasant warmth like his hands had on your body as they leaned against your legs. It would have been easy to lean forward and embrace him as you bathed in his oh so warming presence. You could whisper that you liked him. That every new discovered piece of König was precious to you. That you trusted him and that you wanted more than what he had offered.

And then you did nothing.

Foolish girl. Foolish, foolish girl. You scolded yourself as you stepped away. He is just friendly. You are just a lucky girl marrying a man that became a friend. Don’t be a burden.

Embarrassment flooded you every time the memory arose despite your best attempts to suppress your amorous thoughts and turning to more pragmatic things.

You needed a new dress to marry in. Your old clothes were fine to work in or crawl around the forest. But it would not do for a wedding. More importantly, it would not do for your wedding. You might marry a man from the swamps and waters, but your mother would not stop haunting your dreams if you would not at least attempt to do your part in looking like a proper bride the day you married. So, you spent much time behind the loom spinning and weaving in the hopes of at least finishing something resembling a proper dress until your fingers bled, while you did not even attempt making a kokoshnik in time. I will be his show-off wife. Nothing else. I just need to look and play my part as well as I can - you reminded yourself as you worked on your dress, bloody and in misery while trying to not think much about your life after the wedding.

It was best to forget that part. Best to forget how you had giggled with friends talking about who had kissed whom. Best to forget how you had tasted lips before. None of that for you anymore. You would be a married woman soon – unharmed, unkissed, untouched.

What else could you ask for?

You would be a proper woman with a palace!

You stilled, the spill in your battered hands.

Oh my, you would be a proper woman with a palace!

The dread and horror of it washed over you as the realisation caught up to you. How were you supposed to run a palace on your own? And what was it like to be a proper woman? Suddenly you were hit with the grief of missing your mother who would have known. In your despair you wished for Baba Yaga back. At least Farah was alive and would have had answers for you.

But your mother was dead, and Farah was away. You did not know how to reach the lady of the chicken legged house, not even able to write a letter because you hadn’t mastered that yet except for a few scribbled words König had taught you until now.

No, you were on your own.

Desperation was another persistent memory of those hazy days, waved into your mind like the blood-red stains into your wedding dress.

X

But there was hope.

Every evening you walked with König, nearly swaying drunk from his attention, and talking about your days, wondering what the personal sacrifice was that König had to do to save you from potential drowning.

“Is it maybe some kind of pendant for me to wear? A pretty stone from a riverbed you kept or some magical jewellery that can protect me?” You wondered aloud as you slowly walked the little beach at the lake.

“It sounds more like you would like to wear something pretty.” König responded.

“Well, I wouldn’t object.”

He chuckled, a deep grumbled sound - like bubbles coming up from the bottom of a forgotten pond.

“I am sure I can dive and find you some pretty stones in the water if you want, Bride.” König said, “but I have none now for I never had use for them. So, I cannot sacrifice what I never possessed or cared for.”

You sighed.

“I suppose just something pretty out of the water for me to wear would have been just too easy, wouldn’t it?”

“We can try it out.” He suggested.

You eyed the lake you walked along, the Half-palace rising in the middle of it surrounded by water – so much deep water.

“No thank you,” You squeaked.

He hummed.

“I am sorry, you know.”

You glanced at König.

“I am sorry how we met and how I…” He tried.

You watched him as the mighty King of Everything from Under the Water searched for words. How he struggled with those dreadful and disrupting things in your odd coexistence.

“I am sorry for being so careless back then and nearly drowning you,” He finally said, “I regret how I, a Ruler from the Waters, instilled you with a fear of water. You will be the queen of a kingdom you not only cannot enter, but fear. And that is because of me. I am sorry.”

X

You stopped. And with it the memory, floating away like a piece of driftwood.

A part of you wished that you remembered what had happened that evening.

Maybe you said something funny or forgiving. Like that you did not blame him or that fear of water was well deserved considering unkempt men from the swamps lived there to snatch away women as brides. Maybe not. You wished you remembered anything, but your memory of those hazy days was slipping out of your fingers as you floated down through the water and the last bubbles of air escaped your screaming lungs.

This was it. Foolish girl. Foolish, foolish girl. You thought to yourself and closed your eyes. I should have said something. I should have been brave when I had the chance.

XXX

Cultural Context Notes

A kokoshnik is a crown worn by eastern european women* of often high status. It’s an old tradition of complex significance so who and why it is worn has changed and shifted since at least the 10th century. The Kokoshnik is part of the traditional Slavic Russian wear. However, it is not a ‘just Russian’-tradition and to say it’s just Russian plays into many cultural imperialist norms perpetrated by mostly Russian nationalists. I read this crown as an important symbol for female dignity and power, noticeably showing up in resistance and empowerment movements in the region. Since it is also a very traditional and romanticised headwear, the kokoshnik can be found among more right-wing, nationalist, and the local equivalent of the ‘trad wife’ movements as well. The kokoshnik has a wide variety of shapes, colours, and decorative elements on it, depending on the region and taste. Also, I personally don’t think that those who have no ties to the region and no interest in learning about us but just want to wear a kokoshnik as a pretty costume, should do so as this head wear is loaded with complex cultural codes. Eastern European heritage and culture is open, and everyone is welcome to participate, but it comes with the commitment to learn and be respectful as well.

At least among Russians it is rare for men to braid their hair, but we can do whatever we want here. This is the gender affirming masculinity hair braiding edition. Also, doing each other’s hair is something done mostly among family and very close friends.

The German word ‘Hochzeit’ = wedding is a compound word of the word high / highest and time. Historically many important festivities were ‘highest times’ or highly honoured celebrations but at some point the wedding as the ‘most highest time’ linguistically stayed. In at least Russian folk traditions, the time for engagements was in spring with the wedding then following in the high time of the year so the summer when lavish celebrations outdoors with good food and enough space for everyone was possible. Kind of leaving this here for a bit of folk practice background on why König and protagonist not really plan but just follow the cultural norm of marrying in the foreseeable future of this summer.

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[teaableu]

feelin down and i just love this blog sm. i was wondering if u had any dtk (or kidstar) hc’s u wanted to share maybe. if not though i hope u have a wonderful day, seeing u on my dash always makes me smile.

OH MY GOD A SOUL EATER ASK?? /POS

i just got a huge serotonin boost tysm anon

YES I DO I JUST GOTTA GO GRAB EM

dtk:

the older Kid gets the less human he seems. Like once he's a full shinigami he gets a whole bunch of power that his dad had that sort of strip away his likeness to humans

going off of ^^ I think Kid's human form is constructed. His true form probably looks more like LD but it's not something he was particularly taught to embody/access so he just sorta stays in his human form

HOWEVER, I really like the idea that Kid just sorta.. generally freaks people out. There's a theory of horror that says monster characters can feel scary just because even though they look it, people can tell they are not quite human. and i think Kid has exactly that effect on people

Kid has regenerative powers because his human form is more of a construct/image than an actual biological organism. he's really made of the same stuff from LD's "cape". so he can't really be killed or severely injured for long, especially as he matures and gets more powerful. I think the only way he can take permanent damage is if his soul itself is affected. Sure he can be hurt and it does hurt but soon he learns to sort of turn off extreme pain, and he always ALWAYS regenerates or recovers. But he's always aware that his friends don't. so if he needs to he'll throw himself in front of his human friends if they're dealt a fatal hit to make sure they aren't severely hurt. This becomes a bad habit when he's older. But his friends always try to protect him too and take care of him, and he unlearns the habit

Liz and Patty set him up on social media and he started with a whopping 1 follower for like a week, but then got millions of followers overnight after Soul (who has a good following count bc of his family's social status) mentioned him and everyone freaked out. That was the way the world found out Lord Death's kid existed. He and Soul destroy bullies together online. Patty pretends to be Kid on his account.

Kid is the Adrien Agreste of soul eater. very popular, people love the image they see of him in the news and interviews and stuff (I think its a lot harder for him to avoid publicity after the anime), but he's a lot different in person and only really gets close to the people who get to know him. everyone else has a sort of skewed perception of him. AKA he is Death's Son and Death's son only to them

Kid can sing but he typically doesn't because he likes to prepare first but doesn't particularly want to take the time to learn a song correctly. He appreciates the art but wouldn't do it. the only thing he knows well is some ancient song his dad taught him in some sort of inhuman language. he sang it ONE time and it freaked Liz out so much she didn't speak to him for a week

Before Kid took them in, Liz would sing ONLY for Patty. And only to comfort her. She did this after they moved into the manor too, when Patty would get nightmares from their life before or just generally have a hard time or anything. One time after Patty woke up from a nightmare and Liz went in to calm her down, Kid was walking by and just stopped at the almost-closed door when he heard Liz singing because A. He wants to know if his sisters are ok and B. He probably doesn't hear many people sing casually, and has definitely never heard Liz sing before and it's... nice?? He stays there for a while but moves on the second Liz finishes so he's not caught. He doesn't say anything. But then after one awful awful mission, Liz is singing to help Patty sleep and Kid just. Stands in the doorway, disheveled and exhausted and they all just,, stare at each other for a moment until Patty opens her arms and Kid shuffles over, a little embarrassed and puts his head in her lap. They are all very tired. And then Liz (after getting over herself) just keeps singing until the two of them fall asleep

Kid only knows how to cry/to cry when he's upset because he saw Maka do it when they were young and now he's a pro. Because he only really LOOKS human a lot of human behavior doesn't come naturally for him so he learns from humans around him. He's much better at mimicking and adopting human behavior than Lord Death, which was LD's whole idea

He's shorter than Liz and Patty until he's about 20, then he's shorter than Liz but taller than Patty

Kid can pick up languages really easily. I think if he's immersed he can speak fluently after a couple hours

I've thought about a thing where individual people outside of Death City think he looks different than how anyone else sees him, like a sort of PJO Aphrodite situation but that may be too much of an identity crisis for him lol

There are no government records confirming Kid exists. The only document or ID he has is that little card from LD that says I'm LD's son I can do what I want and nobody questions it

Kid's human form ages normally until he's an adult but when he's mature his aging slows until it finally stops at some point, not sure when.. maybe around appearing 40?

he is gay and ace and has a very loose concept of gender

only Liz and Patty can touch his hair but only when they're at home

Kid and Maka are besties I don't make the rules. She is the only one he will allow to help with his detective work

Kid and Patty cannot be left unsupervised together or there will be some sort of chaos. they are scarily effective on duo missions, even though Kid doesn't use Patty as a weapon for those occasions

Kid doesn't need to sleep but he does if there are other people around (having Liz and Patty in the house helps) because it's refreshing and he read somewhere it helps build trust

Eyes glow in the dark and he can see fine in the dark

Kidstar:

They're about the same height but Black Star gets a growth spurt and is a few inches taller when they're adults

Kid figures out his feelings first (takes a bit rip) but doesn't do anything about them because he feels like he can't because of his responsibilities

^^ That being said I think Black Star has always been generally aware of his feelings for Kid but he doesn't actually put two and two together until literally the moment before he makes his move lol

I don't think they refer to the other as their boyfriend specifically (at least not often) they just sorta... idk man they're partners, they can't describe their relationship in words dont look at me i'm sobbing

first kiss in the rain lets go

majority of physical affection they do is like. hand holding or light touches on the shoulder or arm it is very special to them

more of a future thing (i got a whole future au so ofc i'll talk abt a future thing lol) i dont think they'd ever feel the need to get married bc they're both stubborn and they got all of eternity to be together and I think a lot of their relationship just generally remains unlabelled and unspoken it just IS

OH sort of ignoring my second kidstar hc I had a hc they got together sometime before the mission to the arctic but nobody except like. Killik knew

For funsies I'll throw in a couple of Black Star headcanons

Tsubaki is teaching him Japanese and how to cook

^^ he likes to cook for his friends even though he's not that good at it yet

Mom is Latina I have some stuff about her here. He starts to learn Spanish after he finds out about her

First partner and first kiss was Killik but they had a mutual and friendly break up

Somehow beats mortality while remaining human idk how he just does ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

That is all I can think of right now but I hope you enjoy :)

[upside-down-sock-drawer]

I WAS GIVEN PERMISSION TO YAP SO YAP I SHALL costume analysis for WSS 2021 guys I love this stuff you don't understand. Also this post is LONG so strap in. Also spoilers so if you haven't watched the movie go do that.

Okay okay so first thing I want to point out is the very obvious color schemes that go into the Sharks and the Jets throughout the movie. Jets are blues and greens and cool colors, Sharks are reds and yellows and warm tones. This is important.

For the purpose of this analysis I'm going to focus the most on Maria and Tony, and one of my absolute favorite things that I'm going to start off with is the dance scene. Oh my god. So in the gym dance, the colors between the gangs are extremely apparent, like in this image here

The very obvious color divide. Jets in cool tones, Sharks in warm tones. The only outliers? Maria and Tony.

As you can see here, the costume designers put Maria in white and Tony in black, to show they they're outliers to the gangs, however, Maria has a red belt and Tony has a blue tie, which ties them into their respective groups. Genius.

Also later, when Tony finds Maria on the fire escape, he takes off his tie, meaning in that moment there is no more blue in his costume. Am I overanalyzing? Maybe. Do I think they did this because it signifies that in that moment Tony feels no connection to the Jets and has eyes only for Maria, but Maria still has her red belt because she is hesitant to leave her connection with the Sharks? Yes. Yes I do.

The next costume set I want to bring up is the church scene costumes which are best pictured in this little movie poster

This right here is genius costuming, and in this picture you can also see how they work the juxtaposition to the other characters. At this point I'm the film, Tony and Maria haven't really given up their respective groups, so they still have their colors built into their outfits, however, you can see that compared to the other characters their costumes are much more muted because they are slowly drifting away from their original groups. Again, these designers are genius.

Now I'm going to be focusing on Maria specifically, because at this point in the movie she is head over heels for Tony and there is nothing stopping her from running away with him. Then we get this costume for I Feel Pretty.

Look at this! This is the first time in the movie that we see Maria in a blue dress, the Jets' color. While in this dress, she sings I feel pretty about Tony, showing that she has lost connection with the Sharks, however, she is also wearing that coral apron over the dress, which is a warm tone. The apron covers the blue dress, just like she is covering up being in love with Tony by letting the girls believe that it's Chino she is in love with. Again, genius.

I can't find a good picture to go off of, however during the song Somewhere after Tony killed Bernardo and he and Maria are crying and making up they go back to neutral tones. Completely blank slate.

Lastly, we have this dress

This is what Maria wears when she decides that she is going to run away with Tony. A dark blue dress. No accents, just the dark blue. I also think it's really interesting because dark blue in color symbolism usually means sadness, and we know how the movie ends. I also think it's really interesting how in the end Maria has come completely to Tony's side by wearing entirely blue whereas Tony (I can't find a good picture so don't be mad if I'm off) is wearing muted colors again.

So that's my character analysis based off of costumes. These designers are absolutely amazing and so meticulous to the point where people don't even realize that the costumes add to the character development but they register it anyway. All of those people deserve so many awards they are an amazing costume team.