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nightswatchdisbandmentera · 1 month

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Prince Rhaegar as a character often gets some deserved criticism - and a lot of underserved hate. And one of the things that I think he unfairly gets blamed for is Elia Martell's tragedy. Elia's death is one of the primary objections people have towards Rhaegar and Lyanna being depicted as a romance, with readers believing that if they were just tragic lovers, then that diminishes Elia's own tragedy.

I...disagree. It is understandable (and honestly right) that readers would rally behind Elia. Not only was she horribly brutalized and murdered, but her children suffered absolutely terrible fates as well.

However, in trying to center Rhaegar and Lyanna's doomed dalliance in this, a lot of readers are missing the answer that has been already provided to us within the narrative. Not only that, but this line of thinking also ignores the key context in which Elia's senseless murder is portrayed.

As far as the text goes, Elia’s death is laid squarely at the feet of Tywin Lannister and his men, Ser Gregor Clegane and Ser Amory Lorch. It's House Lannister's burden to bear.

Doran for one, Elia's brother, directly blames Tywin Lannister:

“You mistake patience for forbearance. I have worked at the downfall of Tywin Lannister since the day they told me of Elia and her children.”

The Princess in the Tower, AFFC

Even Oberyn agrees:

“Dwarf,” said the Red Viper, in a tone grown markedly less cordial, “spare me your Lannister lies. Is it sheep you take us for, or fools? My brother is not a bloodthirsty man, but neither has he been asleep for sixteen years. Jon Arryn came to Sunspear the year after Robert took the throne, and you can be sure that he was questioned closely. Him, and a hundred more. I did not come for some mummer’s show of an inquiry. I came for justice for Elia and her children, and I will have it. Starting with this lummox Gregor Clegane … but not, I think, ending there. Before he dies, the Enormity That Rides will tell me whence came his orders, please assure your lord father of that.” He smiled. “An old septon once claimed I was living proof of the goodness of the gods. Do you know why that is, Imp?”

Tyrion IV, ASOS

“Is that the game we are playing?” Tyrion rubbed at his scarred nose. He had nothing to lose by telling Oberyn the truth. “There was a bear at Harrenhal, and it did kill Ser Amory Lorch.” “How sad for him,” said the Red Viper. “And for you. Do all noseless men lie so badly, I wonder?” “I am not lying. Ser Amory dragged Princess Rhaenys out from under her father’s bed and stabbed her to death. He had some men-at-arms with him, but I do not know their names.” He leaned forward. “It was Ser Gregor Clegane who smashed Prince Aegon’s head against a wall and raped your sister Elia with his blood and brains still on his hands.” “What is this, now? Truth, from a Lannister?” Oberyn smiled coldly. “Your father gave the commands, yes?” “No.” He spoke the lie without hesitation, and never stopped to ask himself why he should. The Dornishman raised one thin black eyebrow. “Such a dutiful son. And such a very feeble lie. It was Lord Tywin who presented my sister’s children to King Robert all wrapped up in crimson Lannister cloaks.”

Tyrion IX, ASOS

“Elia Martell, Princess of Dorne,” the Red Viper hissed. “You raped her. You murdered her. You killed her children…“I came to hear you confess.”

Tyrion X, ASOS

Varys and Tyrion both understand that House Martell (but more specifically Doran) hates the Lannisters.

“The Dornishmen thus far have held aloof from these wars. Doran Martell has called his banners, but no more. His hatred for House Lannister is well known, and it is commonly thought he will join Lord Renly. You wish to dissuade him.” “All this is obvious,” said Tyrion. “The only puzzle is what you might have offered for his allegiance. The prince is a sentimental man, and he still mourns his sister Elia and her sweet babe.” “My father once told me that a lord never lets sentiment get in the way of ambition … and it happens we have an empty seat on the small council, now that Lord Janos has taken the black.” “A council seat is not to be despised,” Varys admitted, “yet will it be enough to make a proud man forget his sister’s murder?” “Why forget?” Tyrion smiled. “I’ve promised to deliver his sister’s killers, alive or dead, as he prefers. After the war is done, to be sure.” Varys gave him a shrewd look. “My little birds tell me that Princess Elia cried a … certain name … when they came for her.” “Is a secret still a secret if everyone knows it?” In Casterly Rock, it was common knowledge that Gregor Clegane had killed Elia and her babe. They said he had raped the princess with her son’s blood and brains still on his hands. “This secret is your lord father’s sworn man.” “My father would be the first to tell you that fifty thousand Dornishmen are worth one rabid dog.” Varys stroked a powdered cheek. “And if Prince Doran demands the blood of the lord who gave the command as well as the knight who did the deed …” “Robert Baratheon led the rebellion. All commands came from him, in the end.” “Robert was not at King’s Landing.” “Neither was Doran Martell.”

Tyrion IV, ACOK

Really, all the nobles know where to look at when assigning blame for Elia's murder. Tywin.

“Prince Doran comes at my son’s invitation,” Lord Tywin said calmly, “not only to join in our celebration, but to claim his seat on this council, and the justice Robert denied him for the murder of his sister Elia and her children.” Tyrion watched the faces of the Lords Tyrell, Redwyne, and Rowan, wondering if any of the three would be bold enough to say, “But Lord Tywin, wasn’t it you who presented the bodies to Robert, all wrapped up in Lannister cloaks?” None of them did, but it was there on their faces all the same. Redwyne does not give a fig, he thought, but Rowan looks fit to gag.

Tywin, for the most part, quite shamelessly tries to disassociate himself from his own moral failings; this is nothing new, because he follows this same MO with squarely blaming the Freys for the Red Wedding even though he played an integral part in planning for it.

“Then why did the Mountain kill her?” “Because I did not tell him to spare her. I doubt I mentioned her at all. I had more pressing concerns. Ned Stark’s van was rushing south from the Trident, and I feared it might come to swords between us. And it was in Aerys to murder Jaime, with no more cause than spite. That was the thing I feared most. That, and what Jaime himself might do.” He closed a fist. “Nor did I yet grasp what I had in Gregor Clegane, only that he was huge and terrible in battle. The rape … even you will not accuse me of giving that command, I would hope. Ser Amory was almost as bestial with Rhaenys. I asked him afterward why it had required half a hundred thrusts to kill a girl of … two? Three? He said she’d kicked him and would not stop screaming. If Lorch had half the wits the gods gave a turnip, he would have calmed her with a few sweet words and used a soft silk pillow.” His mouth twisted in distaste. “The blood was in him.”

Tyrion VI, ASOS

“And when Oberyn demands the justice he’s come for?” “I will tell him that Ser Amory Lorch killed Elia and her children,” Lord Tywin said calmly. “So will you, if he asks.” “Ser Amory Lorch is dead,” Tyrion said flatly. “Precisely. Vargo Hoat had Ser Amory torn apart by a bear after the fall of Harrenhal. That ought to be sufficiently grisly to appease even Oberyn Martell.” “You may call that justice …” “It is justice. It was Ser Amory who brought me the girl’s body, if you must know. He found her hiding under her father’s bed, as if she believed Rhaegar could still protect her. Princess Elia and the babe were in the nursery a floor below.”

Tyrion VI, ASOS

Tywin tries to alleviate himself of any responsibility by blaming his men, but the narrative actively calls bullshit on this (through Tywin's own son no less).

So the narrative shows through multiple POVs that Elia's murder is contextualized exclusively as a failing on Tywin Lannister and his men; not only was it a moral failing, but Tyrion also questions if it was politically necessary in the first place. It's also important to note that ASOS is when we really dive into the matter of Elia and her children (mostly through Oberyn), but we also have to remember that this is the same book as the Red Wedding. The Red Wedding, another one of Tywin's senseless massacres that he tries to postulate as politically necessary.

So, we have agreed that the blame and context for Elia's (and her children's) murder is presented through the lens of Tywin as an immoral politician who often makes politically unnecessary moves. But then we ask ourselves, can the responsibility of this tragedy be extended? Well, yes it can. And it has been in the text.

Ser Barristan extends this tragedy beyond Tywin and his men

...to King Robert.

“Prince Rhaegar had two children,” Ser Barristan told him. “Rhaenys was a little girl, Aegon a babe in arms. When Tywin Lannister took King’s Landing, his men killed both of them. He served the bloody bodies up in crimson cloaks, a gift for the new king.” And what did Robert say when he saw them? Did he smile? Barristan Selmy had been badly wounded on the Trident, so he had been spared the sight of Lord Tywin’s gift, but oft he wondered. If I had seen him smile over the red ruins of Rhaegar’s children, no army on this earth could have stopped me from killing him. “I will not suffer the murder of children. Accept that, or I’ll have no part of this.”

The Kingbreaker, ADWD

Ned Stark does as well.

Ned did not feign surprise; Robert’s hatred of the Targaryens was a madness in him. He remembered the angry words they had exchanged when Tywin Lannister had presented Robert with the corpses of Rhaegar’s wife and children as a token of fealty. Ned had named that murder; Robert called it war. When he had protested that the young prince and princess were no more than babes, his new-made king had replied, “I see no babes. Only dragonspawn.” Not even Jon Arryn had been able to calm that storm. Eddard Stark had ridden out that very day in a cold rage, to fight the last battles of the war alone in the south. It had taken another death to reconcile them; Lyanna’s death, and the grief they had shared over her passing.

Eddard II, AGOT

And so does Tywin, who uses Robert's tacit approval as justification for this senseless act.

Lord Tywin stared at him as if he had lost his wits. “You deserve that motley, then. We had come late to Robert’s cause. It was necessary to demonstrate our loyalty. When I laid those bodies before the throne, no man could doubt that we had forsaken House Targaryen forever. And Robert’s relief was palpable. As stupid as he was, even he knew that Rhaegar’s children had to die if his throne was ever to be secure. Yet he saw himself as a hero, and heroes do not kill children.” His father shrugged. “I grant you, it was done too brutally. Elia need not have been harmed at all, that was sheer folly. By herself she was nothing.”

Tyrion VI, ASOS

So if we can't extend the blame to Rhaegar, because the narrative doesn't do so either, what can we hold him responsible for? Let's take a step back and look at Rhaegar's culpability in this whole thing.

Was Rhaegar (and Lyanna) responsible for starting the war that would eventually lead to Elia's murder?

No. GRRM doesn't think so. The war actually started when King Aerys murdered the Lord of Winterfell and his heir, a bunch of other northern nobles, and then called for the heads of Robert Baratheon (Lord of Storm's End) and Ned Stark (the new Lord of Winterfell). Aerys broke the feudal contract, and so Jon Arryn declared war.

I don't think I would have stayed loyal to the Mad King. Do I think they were justified? Yes, and no. [...] There was no doubt that the Mad King was mad. He was paranoid and he was abusing his power. And Westeros has no Magna Carta or anything like that. There was no way to handle this within the rule of law. But was what they do justified? Especially when you consider that it was triggered by a personal grievance. The execution of Ned's father and brother was really a thing that radicalized Ned and put him in opposition to it. Robert was just rolling for a fight and didn't like the fact that he'd lost his girlfriend. So you know, the personal informs the political.

source

Rhaegar and Lyanna's disappearance was merely the spark - it led to a misunderstanding that caused Brandon Stark to ride to Kingslanding. What really caused the war was Aerys' Targaryens subsequent actions as the king. So if we want to blame someone for causing the chain of events that led to Elia's death as well as her children's, the author himself says to blame Aerys; even though I don't think this is right either because we once again stray from the necessary (and sole) context of Elia's murder - Tywin's bloody hands.

Fine. Rhaegar was not responsible for the war. But surely he is responsible for leaving Elia in King's Landing, right in the clutches of Mad King Aerys. Well, this again, is not true. As far as Rhaegar knew, Elia was in Dragonstone with Aegon and Rhaenys where he left them.

As cold winds hammered the city, King Aerys II turned to his pyromancers, charging them to drive the winter off with their magics. Huge green fires burned along the walls of the Red Keep for a moon’s turn. Prince Rhaegar was not in the city to observe them, however. Nor could he be found in Dragonstone with Princess Elia and their young son, Aegon.

“The Year of the False Spring”, The World of Ice and Fire

At some point, Elia was called to King's Landing. And it was Aerys who kept her hostage there as insurance against possible Dornish betrayal (remember, he was paranoid).

Side Note: Aerys kept another important political hostage in King's Landing along with Elia - Jaime Lannister; this is to deter anyone from trying to blame Jaime for doing nothing. He was a teenager and a hostage himself!

“My Sworn Brothers were all away, you see, but Aerys liked to keep me close. I was my father’s son, so he did not trust me. He wanted me where Varys could watch me, day and night. So I heard it all.” He remembered how Rossart’s eyes would shine when he unrolled his maps to show where the substance must be placed. Garigus and Belis were the same. “Rhaegar met Robert on the Trident, and you know what happened there. When the word reached court, Aerys packed the queen off to Dragonstone with Prince Viserys. Princess Elia would have gone as well, but he forbade it. Somehow he had gotten it in his head that Prince Lewyn must have betrayed Rhaegar on the Trident, but he thought he could keep Dorne loyal so long as he kept Elia and Aegon by his side. The traitors want my city, I heard him tell Rossart, but I’ll give them naught but ashes. Let Robert be king over charred bones and cooked meat. The Targaryens never bury their dead, they burn them. Aerys meant to have the greatest funeral pyre of them all. Though if truth be told, I do not believe he truly expected to die. Like Aerion Brightfire before him, Aerys thought the fire would transform him … that he would rise again, reborn as a dragon, and turn all his enemies to ash.

Jaime V, ASOS

Ok, fine. So Rhaegar did not abandon her with Aerys then run off to Lyanna. But he should have done something when he came back, right? Why didn't he leave more Kings Guard with Elia and the children?

Well....this is a war. The knights of the KG are important assets on the battle field. Kings Landing, at the time, was not the most dangerous location. The KG were better off at the Trident, as a victory there would protect those who were left behind in KL.

And it's not that Rhaegar didn't do anything. Beyond going off to lead the battle himself, he tried to make moves that would help those who were back in KL (Elia and the children included).

He floated in heat, in memory. “After dancing griffins lost the Battle of the Bells, Aerys exiled him.” Why am I telling this absurd ugly child? “He had finally realized that Robert was no mere outlaw lord to be crushed at whim, but the greatest threat House Targaryen had faced since Daemon Blackfyre. The king reminded Lewyn Martell gracelessly that he held Elia and sent him to take command of the ten thousand Dornishmen coming up the kingsroad. Jon Darry and Barristan Selmy rode to Stoney Sept to rally what they could of griffins’ men, and Prince Rhaegar returned from the south and persuaded his father to swallow his pride and summon my father. But no raven returned from Casterly Rock, and that made the king even more afraid. He saw traitors everywhere, and Varys was always there to point out any he might have missed. So His Grace commanded his alchemists to place caches of wildfire all over King’s Landing. Beneath Baelor’s Sept and the hovels of Flea Bottom, under stables and storehouses, at all seven gates, even in the cellars of the Red Keep itself.

Jaime V ASOS

And Jaime's POV once again shows us that Rhaegar banked on victory at the Trident, and was fully expecting to come back to KL and amend the fraught political situation.

The day had been windy when he said farewell to Rhaegar, in the yard of the Red Keep. The prince had donned his night-black armor, with the three-headed dragon picked out in rubies on his breastplate. “Your Grace,” Jaime had pleaded, “let Darry stay to guard the king this once, or Ser Barristan. Their cloaks are as white as mine.” Prince Rhaegar shook his head. “My royal sire fears your father more than he does our cousin Robert. He wants you close, so Lord Tywin cannot harm him. I dare not take that crutch away from him at such an hour.” Jaime’s anger had risen up in his throat. “I am not a crutch. I am a knight of the Kingsguard.” “Then guard the king,” Ser Jon Darry snapped at him. “When you donned that cloak, you promised to obey.” Rhaegar had put his hand on Jaime’s shoulder. “When this battle’s done I mean to call a council. Changes will be made. I meant to do it long ago, but … well, it does no good to speak of roads not taken. We shall talk when I return.”

Jaime I, AFFC

So Rhaegar wasn't leaving with no care about what happened back in King's Landing. We don't know what he wanted to do with Aerys, Elia, Lyanna, and the aftermath of the war because he died at the Trident. But we do know that he, at the very least, was planning to do something.

So we can't blame Rhaegar (and Lyanna) for starting the war and we can't blame him either for abandoning Elia in King's Landing with no care about what happens next. So, again, what can we blame him for?

“It's not entirely correct that the Martells stayed out of the war. Rhaegar had Dornish troops with him on the Trident, under the command of Prince Lewyn of the Kingsguard. However, the Dornishmen did not support him as strongly as they might have, in part because of anger at his treatment of Elia, in part because of Prince Doran's innate caution.”

SSM, 09/11/1999

GRRM states that Dorne was angry about Rhaegar's treatment of Elia. What is this treatment, though?

Ned remembered the moment when all the smiles died, when Prince Rhaegar Targaryen urged his horse past his own wife, the Dornish princess Elia Martell, to lay the queen of beauty’s laurel in Lyanna’s lap.

Eddard XV, AGOT

Specifically, Rhaegar riding past Elia to crown Lyanna the Queen of Love and Beauty. Yes, that is a humiliation. And it's undeniable that no one was happy.

The crowning of the Stark girl, who was by all reports a wild and boyish young thing with none of the Princess Elia’s delicate beauty, could only have been meant to win the allegiance of Winterfell to Prince Rhaegar’s cause…Yet if this were true, why did Lady Lyanna’s brothers seem so distraught at the honor the prince had bestowed upon her? Brandon Stark, the heir to Winterfell, had to be restrained from confronting Rhaegar at what he took as a slight upon his sister’s honor…Eddard Stark, Brandon’s younger brother and a close friend to Lord Robert, was calmer but no more pleased.

“The Year of the False Spring”, The World of Ice and Fire

But, humiliating Elia is not the same thing as being responsible for her death. The narrative never equates these two things in any way. Elia's death is about Tywin's immoral and blood thirsty political actions. It's about Dorne's desire for justice (or is it vengeance?) which they know they will not get from the Lannister regime. House Lannister's downfall in King's Landing will be brought about by Prince Aegon's rise - Aegon who is proclaiming to be the long lost son of Prince Rhaegar, and who is being supported by House Martell as of now.

We can criticize Rhaegar for some things, but Elia's death is surely not one of them.

#I generally don't like talking about the whole rhaegar-lyanna-elia stuff partly because I don't really care for either of them #but mostly because these topics often devolve into extremes that help absolutely no one #but I just wanted to hop on here and say that blaming rhaegar for elia's death is imo not cannon compliant #the narrative already give us an answer to this - THE LANNISTERS but more specifically TYWIN and GREGOR and AMORY #it's not rhaegar or lyanna or their child Jon to bear any of the blame in this #dorne's decision to join the war against the crown is entirely because it's in opposition to the lannister regime #that's not to say that rhaegar cannot have responsibility for the humiliation of elia - because even grrm says he does #but saying he bears the blame for her murder is just a bit.....😕#also rhaegar is one thing but blaming LYANNA of all people is ummm well #rhaegar targaryen #robert's rebellion #tywin lannister #ser gregor clegane #ser amory lorch #house martell #elia martell #asoiaf #valyrianscrolls #pls forgive any spelling and grammatical mistakes its midnights and I'm tired af thanks #my stuff

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strxwberrylemonxde · 2 months

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joker joker 😣🙏 please pleaseee

a/n: SKDNJS I'M FINALLY FREE TO ANSWER MY ASKS 😭 allow me to use this ask to insert some random headcanons of our favorite pookie bear while I work on the other joker fics I got for you 🤩 these are so bad im so sorry

There is something about the Joker that gives "DARRRRRLLINNGGGGG GUESS WHO JUST ESCAPED THE PSYCCHHHH WARDDD"

He would say this to Batman after escaping Arkham for the millionth time

Kicks feet and giggles

Someone please sedate me

I know damn well they had to put a muzzle on this man in Arkham because he bit someone for talking bad about Batman

It was Killer Croc 💀

I think this man loves sprinkles for some reason -- specifically rainbow sprinkles

Like he needs it on his ice cream or else he won't eat it

Like he would rob a store at gunpoint for rainbow sprinkles

And then go, “Oh nooo, I hope a big, bad, Bat doesn’t come and stop me” type shit 😭

Speaking of ice cream, I wholeheartedly believe Joker is lactose intolerant

Does he care?

Not in the slightest

He is guzzling milk, cheese, and ice cream at all times

He went to extensive lengths to smuggle in a picture of Batman into his cell in Arkham, but don’t ask him how he did it

You don't wanna know

He has a tattoo on his lower back a tramp stamp of the bat symbol

#i hope this was at least somewhat enjoyable 😭#i haven't written joker fics in AGES #kind of embarrassed of this 💀#🌻: lynn’s answers #🍯: freshly baked #🌙: midnight meadow runs #the joker #dc joker #batman x joker #joker x batman #joker headcanons #joker x reader #the joker x reader #dc comics #dc universe #batman #dc batman #batman comics

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midnight-vixn · 1 year

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You love being Solomon's apprentice, but some of his experiments are definitely strange or really vague. He asks if he can cast a spell on you to see how you react during the school day, and you agree.

What you don't know is, that it was actually a linking spell to his fleshlight.

While you're sitting in class taking notes, you feel the strangest thing start to rub against you. You shift in your seat and try to ignore it. But it really feels like fingers starting to press into you. You go so red and bury your face in your book as you feel like you're being stretched.

You pull out your phone and ask Solomon what he did, but he leaves you on read. Then you feel his cock press into you. You ask to be excused to the bathroom and slam the stall shut as you feel how big he is.

You text him again and he sends back a picture of what he's doing. You think it's hot, but are definitely going to get back at him for this.

Your biting on your fist to stay quiet as you lean against the wall. A phantom cock fucks into you and it feels amazing. When you come, Solomon feels it. And when he comes, it still stuffs you full and drips down your legs.

Maybe he'll challenge you, see if you can cockwarm him for the rest of the day and he'll reward you. You end up sitting through all your classes, your eyes glossed over and mind so fuzzy. Every so often he'll rut into you and come again.

ENCHANTED SEX TOYS DOCJSNDND YES! Solomon is such a little shit (affectionate)

afab!reader x solomon

Agreeing to help Solomon was always a gamble, but as his apprentice you found yourself taking the risk far more often than you should. When he asked to cast a spell on you that should’ve raised some flags, but it didn’t. When he said he wanted to see how your body reacted during the day that should’ve been your clue, but it wasn’t. Now you were trapped in class with a burning heat between your legs.

At first you didn’t notice, you felt something brush against your folds but thought it was all in your head. Then it brushed against your folds again, this time stopping to rub slow circles on your clit. You crossed your legs in an effort to stop whatever strange feeling this was, obviously a side effect from that stupid spell, you pull your phone out and shoot a very annoyed text to Solomon who’s quick to open your message and then ignore you.

Trying to focus on class again you put your phone away. A few minutes pass, the feeling on your clit continues to stimulate you so you squeeze your legs together more, the feeling stops and you sigh in relief that it’s over. Your eyes suddenly go wide when you feel something sliding into you, spreading you open ever so slowly. You know what’s happening now, that feeling is all too familiar. You ask to be excused and take off down the hall in an awkward little run as you feel the phantom object slide in more.

You lock the door behind you and send another very accusatory text to Solomon. A few minutes pass, you can feel your walls stretch and relax as the object inside you pulls out a little and then slides back in. Your phone goes off and it’s a short video from Solomon, his cock fully erect with thick veins on either side and a fleshlight in his hand that matches your skin tone a little too well. He slides his cock in just barely and pulls back out just like you had felt, you start to text back when you feel his cock slide all the way in. His tip pressing against your sweet spot and his girth stretching you wide, you cover your mouth as a moan rips from your throat.

Your legs give out as he starts to fuck into you, dropping to the ground and throwing your head back as he stuffs you full. You manage to hit the video call button even with tears filling your eyes, Solomon answers almost immediately and you can hear the lewd sounds of his cock thrusting into the fleshlight. “Fuck you.” Is all you can manage as you watch his cock on the screen and feel it inside you at the same time. You hear his teasing laugh off screen, “No baby,” his cock twitches inside you and he moans “I’m busy fucking you.”

You attempt to roll your eyes but can’t as Solomon starts fucking into you faster, the two of you moaning and calling out each other’s names as he continues to pound into the toy, causing your hole to stretch and clench around nothing. You try to stay quiet but you can feel the heat building inside you, Solomon continues to tease you over the phone, slowling his strokes and making you beg for him to speed up again.

You watch his thumb start rubbing against the toy and immediately feel his touch on your clit again. The way he thrusts into you and the way his thumb circles on your sensitive bud makes your brain melt, you’re so close it’s not fair. You bite down on your fist as your climax hits, Solomon can feel you clench around his shaft as you cum and he can’t stop himself from releasing inside you. Your mind is too foggy to worry about how this spell works but you watch as his cum somehow leaks out of you and runs down your thighs.

You try to stand, expecting him to pull out finally but instead he buries his now half hard cock deep inside you. “Let’s make this fun shall we?” He says as he tries to catch his breath “make it through the rest of the day with my cock inside you, and I’ll reward you tonight with the real thing.”

You waddle back to class and take your seat. Your mind is fuzzy and your heart races, you can feel yourself clenching around the phantom cock inside you as well as him throbbing against your walls. He bucks into you once and you stop yourself from moaning, it’ll be a long day but you’re determined to get him back for this. He doesn’t know what’s in store for him tonight.

#obey me smut #midnight thirsts #obey me solomon smut #obey me #babe I’m SO sorry this took me twelve years to answer akdjsns

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ikemenomegas · 4 months

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There's that scene in Phantom Parade where Gojo tells nanami that if he didn't go with him, he would scream and cry on the spot and in your au, id expect nanami to slowly turn to gojo's alpha and go: 😕😮‍💨

😆i have no idea the context of that interaction, sounds like something inspired by Gojo and Nanami's terrible Hokkaido work adventure, but it did make me giggle bc you're absolutely correct

"Why is he like this?"

"Hmm?" you turned slowly. Satoru had kept you up last night. You stifled a yawn. You'd spent over six hours humoring him through losing spectacularly at final fantasy fifteen. Or at least you thought it was losing, could you lose that kind of game? Either way, you were pleasantly sleepy and the world felt washed in cotton.

So you thought Nanami had spoken, but maybe that was just many years of getting good at reading the gradation of Kento Nanami's Shades of Exasperation.

Nanami was staring at you and so was Satoru, with a kind of familiar hesitation that indicated he was awaiting some kind of reaction from one or both of you. So you decided that whether or not Nanami had spoken was probably irrelevant.

Your kouhai's expression now told you he was seriously wondering whether or not you'd been hit on the head when he wasn't looking. It wasn't like you'd complain about it if you had been.

"I'll go with you, Satoru," you said, equably, gazing up into your mate's covered eyes and falling back on something that occasionally satisfied whatever mood he was in, although efficacy tended to depend upon what exactly he wanted. Where were promising to go? No clue, but hopefully somewhere where you could get something to drink. As you'd grown older, staying awake all or most of the night seemed to make you more inclined to dehydration the next day.

A loud, whiny "Noo-ooo," left Satoru's lips. They were glossy with just a slightly darker shade of pink at the center like he'd freshly applied the lip tint you'd bought him last week. He'd said it was some limited edition thing that tasted, or at least smelled like it should taste, like umeshu.

"Of course you'd come--" Satoru had continued with making a scene, and Nanami looked like he was starting to grind his jaw a little, which was a bad habit both you and Shoko had been trying to break him of, "--unless you're the kind of alpha to leave me alone--".

You reached for Nanami's shoulder to prod him but your hand was snatched from the air and enfolded into Satoru's, a jealous tint to the air that you knew was all performative. Probably.

At least that had worked. Nanami looked like his mouth was about to drop open.

You wanted to point out that Satoru was already well on the way to crocodile tears by this point. "I thought the crying was going to be for Nanami," you teased with a tired, almost fond sigh.

A loud, near approximation of a whining, petulant sob left Satoru's pink lips. You wondered if there was actually any alcohol in the lip tint. Maybe the fumes were going to his head.

"Why are you ganging up on me!?" he exclaimed, ridiculous and provocative, and clearly angling to see where this was going.

Fine. Never let it be said that you didn't know how to go for a killing blow, even against Gojo Satoru,

"Well, you look awful pretty when you cry. I just thought I'd give you a chance to show it off," you said, reaching up to cup his cheek, the very image of an alpha placating an omega.

Nanami's palm hit his face with a near audible little smack. Whoops.

Satoru snickered as he drew you up the street, long legs eating up the distance so smooth it was almost like he was gliding. You followed along, trailing for a bit just to make sure Nanami was in fact, grudgingly, trudging along in Satoru's wake.

It occurred to you that you still didn't know where he thought you were going.

#omegaverse #jjk #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #myy oc #they're both freaks by the way #kento nanami #who has to learn to live with that #i do think he loses a little bit of respect for you once he leans you've married gojo while he was away and sort of hates himself for that #because he thinks it's unfair to you #shoko thinks it's more than fair lol #ask answered #from the notebook #omega!gojo #alpha!reader #barely edited #midnight fics #goodniiight #io.omegas

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hairbleached · 1 year

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reputation/midnights this or that: …ready for it? or question…? look what you made me do or anti-hero? gorgeous or bejeweled? delicate or you’re on your own kid? dress or maroon? call it what you want or sweet nothing? new year’s day or dear reader? this is why we can’t have nice things or karma? king of my heart or paris? getaway car or midnight rain? so it goes… or lavender haze? dancing with our hands tied or the great war? i did something bad or vigilante shit? end game or mastermind? don’t blame me or would’ve could’ve should’ve? reputation or midnights?

#question...?#lwymmd #bejeweled #delicate #maroon #ciwyw #dear reader!!!!!#karma #komh #midnight rain #lavender haze #BOTH #idsb #end game #don’t blame me #i’m…not answering that #they’re tied 7v7 #tag games

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miss-midnightt · 3 months

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Gold Digger/Hit & Run!Lock

1st one is her 'casual' wear, her second one is her more, formal wear, keeping with the white theme because, apparently, this family has a weird obsession with white for some fucking reason even I don't know!

ooh pretyyyy!

#answering at midnight

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soapskneebrace · 1 year

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Gimme your favorite Soap HC’s sfw and NSFW 👀

Drawing HEAVILY from the unhinged conversations @guyfieriii and I often have about making Soap whine. This’ll be entirely NSFW because hey, I’m in the mood for it.

What is John “Soap” MacTavish like in bed?

The first thing you need to know about Soap is that sex is an incredibly positive outlet for him—he loves every aspect of it, loves the mess and the smell and every tiny awkward thing that can happen. It’s about having fun to him, not being the best or proving anything about himself. Soap loves to have a good time with his partners, and that’s all that really matters to him.

Because of this? He’s really, really great in bed. Communicative, eager to please and to encourage, Soap is the kind of partner you might have thought you could only dream of.

He’s perceptive, too—he’ll figure out your tells very quickly, and will end up surprising you with how easily he can figure out how much you might like it if he touches you this way or that.

Also, he’s really down to try almost anything. Positions, toys, sensation play—he’ll give it a fair shot if it sounds like fun. He can’t roleplay, however, to save his own life. He cracks up too often to stay in character.

In between rounds, Soap is handsy, stroking your body and kissing you all over. His love language is touch, and the last thing he wants to do is take his hands off you. He just genuinely loves to feel the dips and curves of your body, loves getting to know your shape in such a tactile way.

Oh. Pull his hair. Pull his hair. He will blush a deep red, all across his face and down his chest, and his eyes will go glassy and unfocused with pleasure. He really likes it when you manhandle him.

Remember when I said Soap loves the mess of sex? Yeah, what I really meant is Soap loves to make it messy. Meaning, Soap loves sex when it’s sweaty, when he and you are sticky with each other’s cum and slick and saliva. If neither of you need a shower after you’re done, then you’re not actually done.

Soap’s the kind of nasty that is not deterred by the musk of exercise. In fact, he’s pretty eager to go down on you after you’ve being working out or doing chores all day. “Just like a bit a’flavor, bonnie, don’t I?”

On that note. I said before in my alphabet, and I’ll say it again—Soap is a panty thief. A borrower, he’d insist, if you ever confronted him, and that’s true enough since your underwear does eventually make it back to you, usually when your smell has worn off, or he’s finally home from a long mission and doesn’t need to settle for them anymore now that you’re back in his arms.

He is also the kind of nasty undeterred by menstruation. He’ll put a towel down and fuck you as enthusiastically as he does at any other time of the month. If you mention the blood, he’ll tell you very sincerely that he’d rather see it coming from you, like this, than from any of the usual times he sees blood on the job.

Because he’s in great shape, Soap not only can last a long time, but he can go again pretty soon after finishing. If there’s time, and if you’re willing, three rounds is pretty normal for your sexual encounters with him. It will surprise you very often, just how eager he is to go again after he’s just practically blown your back out.

But Johnny, in the end, is really just insatiable. He can’t get enough of you. After you’re both finally tired out, he still wants to go for another round, and it’s slow and a little sloppy and it’s entirely possible that neither of you can actually come again, but he doesn’t care. He just wants to draw this out for as long as he can, seize every moment of pleasure with you that he can get ahold of.

#answered #john mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #john mactavish x you #john soap mactavish x you #soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish #soap x reader #soap #I want to write more but it’s past midnight and I’m about to black out

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liketaylorswift · 11 months

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find the other albums here (x)

#i have a reason for all of these so there are no wrong answers!#ashley’s polls #album theses #midnights #taylor swift poll

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justladders · 4 months

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*gives headpats to springtrap*

#answered ask #anon ask #fnaf #springdoodle #midnight magma things

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midnight-moth · 11 months

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May we get some angst of Dew then being comforted by the other ghouls, maybe a ghoul cuddle pile?

Oh yes. Because Dew has been feeling a whole lot of angst on this tour! Read below the cut. Thanks for the prompt anon 💖

It happened at the first ritual. And then it happened again. And again. And again. The wireless transmitter failed, the sound cut out completely, his pedal board decided it just wasn’t going to work. And then it decided that a few more times.

Dew would stomp in agitation, flip off his equipment, beckon the techs with impatient gestures. Aside from the actual malfunction, the crowd thought that Dew’s reaction was all part of the spectacle. And maybe it was, at first.

But when the number of rituals were moving into the double digits, his rage became very real. It was the first thing he felt when everything went wrong. And when he blamed himself for it.

Some of it had absolutely nothing to do with him. The cannons firing early, the lights shutting off, the curtain getting stuck as the crew tried to yank it from where it had attached itself to a rafter. It nonetheless added to his unease. The feeling that everything was about to go wrong.

Tonight seemed better. So far so good. Until he planted his boot on the pedal board and all of the sound coming from his guitar cut out. He frantically stepped on different pedals, but heard nothing coming from his monitor.

This had been maybe the 4th time this specific issue had happened. With the spotlights shining on him, because he should’ve been playing a solo, he was instead standing there motioning for techs that weren’t there.

Blinded by rage at this point, he stomped, and not in a Im so human and weak way. In a I am forged from fire and demon blood way, and managed to crush the metal frame of the phaser pedal under the heel of his boot, cracking the also metal frame of the board right in half.

Thank Satan for the new masks. No one could see his eyes. His tears soaked into the fabric of the balaclava covering his mouth. He wasn’t sad. He was angry. And when he got angry enough, he cried. And it made him feel like a kit having a temper tantrum.

Dew would say he just wanted to put on a good show, that he shouldn’t be making mistakes this late in the game, and that he too responsibility for all of his equipment. Even if he didn’t set it up.

Others would say Dew was a perfectionist. That the smallest mistake would send him spiraling. Sometimes for days. That he would mutter under his breath about it and beat himself up about it and run it over in his mind in an obsessive cycle trying to pinpoint the exact moment it all went wrong so that it would never happen again.

“We all make mistakes Dew.”

“We can’t control everything Dew.”

“Stop beating yourself up Dew.”

You’re making a big deal out of nothing Dew.”

“We get that you’re pissed but don’t take it out on us Dew.”

They didn’t understand how deeply affected he was, that each and every equipment failure, set up issue, or stroke of bad luck stick to the next, until it was a massive weight on his back that practically made him stoop when he walked.

When he walked off the stage that night, rather when he stormed off it, stalking off to the showers, taking his rage out on his own skin as he scrubbed himself raw. He didn’t bother drying his hair, no matter how tangled it would be later. He sat alone in a plastic chair at the rear of the venue in between the floodlights affixed to the wall.

When they were all finally ready to move, filtering out the back door in search of Dew they almost missed him in that patch of darkness until they noticed the Cherry of his cigarette glowing in the dark.

“Hey Dew, time to go.”

Swiss employed his softest, least obnoxious semi sing-song voice, however Dew still practically sneered at him as he fell in line.

He was the last to get on the bus. By then everyone felt the rage radiating off of him. Each trying to make individual decisions about how they’d deal with it. Unanimously, they all wanted to just leave him be. Until the boil lowered to a simmer. At these stage surely anything they said to him would just infuriate him further.

As Dew traversed the tall steps, his toe caught on the lip of very last step, his hands were full so there was nothing to prevent him from slamming his face into the wall that enclosed the drivers seat.

When his head stopped spinning he looked to see everyone had come to a halt, staring at him with what appeared to be a combination of concern and fear. He felt something warm dripping down his face, his olfactory organs immediately recognized it as blood, as did his eyes when he realized it was dripping on the light grey carpet.

No one could see the countdown that had been set, but they knew he was about to explode.

“Dew, can I help you? I’ll take your bags and” - Mountain extended his hand, slowly, as if Dew would bite his fingers off. And he might.

Dew dropped his duffle and back pack on the floor and wiped his nose on his sleeve, leaving a bloody smear across his face. He looked up at Mountain with a somewhat neutral expression that said time was almost up. They all froze, waiting to see if the bus was about to be engulfed in flames. Not this time, he sunk cross legged to the floor and let out one of the most wretched cries they’ve ever heard.

“Oh Dew, come here. Don’t sit on the dirty floor.” Mountain crouched in front of him, using his on sleeve to staunch the flow of blood dripping onto Dew ‘s lap.

“Can you walk, can you stand?”

Dew just shook his head. No yelling, no screaming, just tears and blood. Mountain scooped him up and brought him to the back of the bus, depositing them both on the couch.

“You wanna talk about it, firebug?”

Dew shook his head, he just kept his eyes downcast, rubbing at the blood that was drying down on his hand. Dew was beyond anger, completely defeated., absolutely done. They all knew it.

Swiss searched in vain for ice, remembering there was no freezer in the tiny tour bus fridge. The best he could do was a cold bottle of beer wrapped in a t-shirt.

Rain located the first aid kit affixed to the wall in the bathroom. An infection on top of everything else wasn’t what they needed. Especially since the cut on the bridge of his nose happened to lay exactly where his mask would hit.

Rain dabbed at the cut with a swab soaked in alcohol. The scent made Dew’s nose scrunch up, between that and the burn, and the embarrassment of it all, Rain was dabbing at tears as well as the slice on his skin.

Swiss handed over the bottle, knowing that Dew preferred the calming energy of Rain and Mount when he was broken down this far.

Instead he hung back with the new guy and texted Cirrus, on the other bus with the Cirrus and Aurora. They had nothing helpful to offer. No ice and no advice. So he sunk back on the sofa and waited for some cue that told him he could be useful in this situation. The quintessence ghoul knew he could help, but he’d rather wait until he was asked rather than be intrusive.

The bus lurched forward, making it onto the highway shortly thereafter. Dew hadn’t spoken a word yet. He occasionally squeaked at the shifting of the fabric across the cut as Rain held the cold bottle to his face.

“I broke my pedal.”

“Oh, Dew, it doesn’t matter. It’s all replaceable. Unlike you. You’re the one we need to be okay.” Dew dropped his shoulders, abandoning the rigid posture he’d maintained since they sat down, giving in to the comfort that Mountain’s wide shoulders and long arms offered.

Rain pulled the beer out of the shirt and offered it to Dew but he shook his head. “You want tea instead?” Dew looked back at Rain as if he felt guilty saying yes. Rain kissed his forehead and stood to go make him one.

“I don’t know why you’re all being so nice to me. It was my fault.”

“You know that’s not true.” A gentle chiding sometimes helped snap him out of his cycle of self blame. Emphasis on gentle. Mountain continued, his deep voice as soft as he could manage.

“Maybe you did break the board. But the rest wasn’t your fault at all. I know you want to take it upon yourself to make sure everything is perfect. But this is a giant machine with many moving parts. A lot of them operated by humans. And we’re just getting started. It’ll get better Firebug, I know it will.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Dew muttered, taking the scalding mug of tea that Rain held out to him. In fact, Rain had to carry it with a kitchen towel, but that’s how Dew liked it. Even if it was like drinking hot lava.

Rain sat behind Dew, gently working through the knots in his half-dry hair. “It happens to me too, I almost kicked a stage light right off the podium.”

“That’s not the same.”

“Okay, maybe not. But we’ve all had issues. C’s keyboard not making a sound when she walked out for her solo, standing there at center stage. The crowd staring at him her. Remember how upset she was?”

“Yeah, I remember. But still. She didn’t stomp on her keytar when it happened.”

Rain brushed his fingers against Dew’s scalp, watching his head lull backwards. “I know. Yes, you did that. Yes, your temper gets the best of you. But you have a lot at stake. We all know it. You’re just gonna have to forgive yourself.”

“No, I don’t and you can’t make me.”

Rain gave his hair a playful tug. “Oh? I think I can.”

Mountain saw the half smile hidden behind the now empty mug. He pried it out of Dew’s hands, handing it behind him to Swiss who he knew was probably dying inside from feeling useless.

Dew leaned back, yawning once, and then over and over. “Someone’s sleepy.” Mountain stood again with Dew in his arms. “Time for bed?”

“Don’t infantilize me. I’m a super scary fire demon and shit.”

“Yes, babygirl. But how can you burn as all to a crisp if you’re tired?”

Dew replied with a hiss. “Your bed.”

Mountain nodded. His was the biggest. He was thrilled when their manager told them they had enough funds to make small modifications to tour bus.

“And?”

“Yeah, all of you.” Dew grunted.

“I knew it you softy.” Swiss kissed his cheek before launching himself on the bed.

“I get the middle!” Dew called out.

“Of course. We already know that, Princess.” Rain slid across the wide mattress next to Swiss.

“Not a princess.” Dew muttered as he pressed himself up against Rain’s chest. Two ghouls left. Phantom stood there looking apprehensive.

“Go on, he won’t bite you, unless you ask.”

He crawled in, sculpting himself to the shape of Dew’s body while maintaining an inch wide gap between them. Dew reached behind and grabbed his arm to yank him closer. “That’s not how this works.”

“Yeah, okay.” He sounded slightly terrified which made Dew giggle. His reputation must’ve made it down to the pit. Even though it was mostly untrue.

Mountain crawled in next, pushing the quintessence ghoul’s body the rest of the way. He usually took the edge, because his large body was like a dam keeping the rest of them from spilling on to the floor in the night.

Dew always tried to hold it back, reputation to maintain and what not, but his purr always started up first and despite his size, it was definitely the loudest.

“Feeling better, princess?”

Dew slapped Swiss with his tail. “Not a princess.”

Probably the biggest lie Dew told about himself that night. He absolutely was and he knew it.

The next morning Cumulus skipped over to the bus to see how he was. “I’m okay. It doesn’t hurt unless I touch it.”

“Well, I thought it might. But I made this for you.”

It was a sort of headband looking thing. Only it was thinner. Aside from one piece that seemed to be 3 layers thick. Knitted from buttery soft black yarn.

“Thanks - uh - what is it?”

She slipped it over his head, letting the padded part rest on the bridge of his nose. “It’s so your helmet doesn’t dig into it.”

Dew’s eyes shone in the morning light, but Cumulus just gave him a peck on the cheek and walked away. She wouldn’t tell anyone that a little piece of knitting made him cry.

#nameless ghouls #dewdrop ghoul #rain ghoul #mountain ghoul #Swiss ghoul #cirrus ghoulette #cumulus ghoulette #aurora ghoulette #phantom ghoul #the band ghost fanfic #fluff #Dew is angy #midnight moth answers #midnight moth asks #midnight moth writes #cw injury #cw blood #cw hurt comfort

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