#it just makes more sense for her to want a different name a different identity that has nothing to do with that role

[lameow-l]

so wait… furina is the name of the archon role that “furina” had to play

wouldn’t make more sense narrative wise to give her a name of her own?? like scara gets his own epic chapter about him ridding himself of his past and adopting a new name then proceed to ignore said name in favor of “hat guy” but the actress playing “furina” doesn’t get to be known for her own name?

like people of fontain (partly maybe) know the truth so why not let her free? let her enjoy the simple human life she so so longed for? even the other furina wouldn’t want this

#i think her story is a better use of the (give character name) mechanic that wasn’t really needed in scara’s arc imo #like yeah it’s cool and all but we literally saw him throw the actual physical manifestation of his past into the fucking void!!! #i personally think it was kind of wasted on him on top of me thinking that idea was entirely stupid to begin with and hyv keeps proving tha #no one actually refers to him as wanderer or by the name they choose online.. its just scara #thats both bad marketing and confusing burying the character away from new players #and like the amount of shit u have to go through as a new player just to name ur weird huge hat angry little dude is just.. #but imagine how impactful such a mechanic would be for ‘furina’ who spent all her live acting a role she wasn’t #at the end of all that agony do u think she could endure hearing people call her by that name?? #unlike scara she did that for the people every moment of those 500 years knowing that the fate of every person is mere a breakdown away #there was nothing in that for her or for a reward she thought deserved.. just suffering on her own #it just makes more sense for her to want a different name a different identity that has nothing to do with that role #and again i think that mechanic is stupid anyway but if it had to happen i’d loved it more with ‘furina’ #or idk give her like a clueless friend she gets to meet that keeps calling her a different name for reasons and her liking the name or smth #maybe give her a different role she gets to play.. or have neuvillette give her a name #same with scara i think it would have been a lot better if he went by a name he choose when all his previous names were chosen for him #i dont see how the entirety of genshin writers and devs agreed to this mechanic being implemented honestly #like traveler is literally there waiting for a single soul to address them by their actual name (the one we choose) but every time it’s jus #traveler traveler.. even their most beloved companion calls them traveler #like that alone should've changed the writers minds bc such a name would 1. either not ever be used or replaced by a nickname #2. the hell devs had to go through to not allow certain phrases and names and 3. the hell both teams will suffer should they add a new char #tl;dr stupid dumb mechanic but they should still give furina a new name #genshin impact #furina #fontaine archon quest #scaramouche

[drill-teeth-art]

Wow! Here’s something incredibly personal.

This is Good Bi Gender. A comic I made to express some feelings I have about my gender. I don’t really have that much else to say about it. Here it is.

[Image Description: A digital comic made with sharp, angular abstract lines and only the colors white, blue, pink, and black. The featured character is all white, except for facial features and hair colors, which changes from panel to panel. The comic reads: Cover Panel: The text "Good Bi Gender", the words colored with the trans flag. It shows a glitchy person's face, half pink and half blue. Panel 1: White text reads: "Hello. My name is apparently irrelevant. And my pronouns are he/him and she/her. But you can't call me she/her. And here's why." Someone with a half-pink and half-blue shirt looks to the side. One eye is covered with hair, and the other eye is pink while the iris is blue.

Panel 2: The character sits happily, imagining facial hair and a masculine voice. "I don't want top surgery. I love my chest. And I dream about being on testosterone someday soon." The character looks at a phone, frowning. The phone shows the male symbol with an "X" through it. Text next to it reads: “People don't seem to think that the features I dream of are very pretty though... Or they think even worse of them than that…”

Panel 3: The character’s features are all pink, and sits in a blank frame. The character reaches over to a blue frame, frowning. “I don't like the animosity. I really despise it.” A photo of the character shows an all-blue frame and blue hair, with pink outlines and facial features. “To be a boy... I aspire to be one. I aspire to be masculine in all its handsomeness. All its prettiness.” Panel 4: The character sits in an all blue panel, but reaches back out to the pink panel. “And I'm still a girl too. I was so excited to have both. To love both. To have handsome femininity. Beautiful masculinity.” The frames break and connect, and pink and blue swirl together. The character smiles in between the frames, with one pink eye and one blue eye. “So excited. And yet I get asked…”

Panel 5: Two hands hold out two different pills to the character, one blue and one pink. They ask “Male? or Female?” using the male and female symbols.The character, facial features an array of pink and blue, looks between the two hands, distressed. “It's both! I'm both! They're not opposites. Not narrow boxes. I say I'm both despite the insistence that I can't be. And I know what I look like. I know I look like a girl to most. I know that if I say people can call me she, that's all I will get from most. Because it's "easier". It "makes more sense". To have my masculinity, I am often forced to be unflinching in it and it alone. To never use she. Because if I don't, I will never get to have he.” [The words "she" and "he" are italicized.] Panel 6: Text reads: “I'm still very happy to be so comfortable in my identity. To know, despite all that, that I am indeed a boy and a girl and both. But you know. Telling people to only use he/him for me. Guarding my masculinity all just to have it. All at the expense of the part of me who is happily and unashamedly a girl.” The character cries from one pink eye, the other hidden. The character holds a pink girl in a sea of blue, the girl crying out. In the midst of the blue, text reads: “Well, it fucking breaks her heart.” End ID]

Edit: @starberry-skies wrote an ID for the comic, so I added it to the og post with its permission!

#transgender #trans artwork #original art #digital art #comic

[yaymiyas]

ISEKAI!YANDERE!CROWN PRINCE INTRODUCTION

warning: female reader, his name is saer…just so you can follow a bit lol, isekai lol

a/n: it’s structured a bit differently than my other introductions, do note that yes this is x reader but you had gotten isekai’d into a novel so….i do say her name but…..you’re also you…..if that makes sense, also he is hardly in it but its like….an introduction to the story bc its…an isekai and i needed to layout how i wanted everything to be

its not like you didn’t realize something was up. bright white lights blind you right when you open your eyes. maids coming in and out, calling you ‘miss’ and telling you not to sit up because ‘it will harm you even more’. granted, you were very thankful for their words because, around ten minutes before they came in, you attempted to sit up and gave yourself a headache. even though nobody was explaining anything, you remained quiet, trying to gather as much information from the surrounding maids as possible. the red-haired one with tight curls and an everlasting smile was amanda. she seemed to like you much, more than the other two, and tended to you more carefully. maybe she was your personal maid,or maybe she was just good at her job, but she never let up and called you your ‘name’.

admittedly, none of the other two maids called you your ‘name’ either. it was all just ma’am or miss from them. you just expected a hint of your identity from amanda, based solely on her care for you. selfish? maybe but you needed more hints. the other maids are named cynthia and tilly. the former of the two had long black hair slicked into a low bun, with a small maids hair on top to finish the look. it was a cute detail, if you must say, since the other two didn’t wear them. cynthia hardly spoke above a shout, coming off as more soft-spoken than the other two. she wasn’t really rude, nor did she have an attitude while tending to you, but she wore an expression of indifference that made you think she would rather do anything else.

tilly, on the other hand, was more bold than the other two. still not outwardly rude, but she tested your patience a few times. the main one that got to you though, was when she was rubbing your face. while she was washing off your face with the washcloth, she rubbed against your cheeks too hard, and upon this ‘realization’ she gave you a malevolent grin. her thin lips formed an o shape, mimicking the action of saying ‘oops’. luckily, it seemed as if amanda and cynthia didn’t really care for this ‘prank’ of hers. they both scoffed in disgust, continuing to pick out outfits for me to wear for the day ahead.

a soft but stern knock was heard at the door, revealing a man with black slick back hair and yellow eyes to put the look all together. he reminded you of those webtoon male leads that were cold but female audiences loved. being a sucker for those types, you raised your neck up, making sure to keep your body in the same supine position. the man standing at the foot of your bed looked down at you with an expression that you couldn’t read. an expression that wasn’t scary but wasnt welcoming. tapping along the footboard of the bed, he let out a low sigh out that resembled a growl and turned around to leave. tilly, amanda, and cynthia didn’t acknowledge the man. neither did he to them. the only thing that could resemble an interaction between the four of them was when tilly and amanda gave small bows and the slight side eye cynthia gave before going back inside your closet to look for something.

“madam,”

thats a new one.

“lord saer would like you to have breakfast with him today.”

lifting your head enough to turn your focus towards amanda, you started to guess your facial expression was a bit too expressive because amanda started to giggle. the pain in your body wasn’t really high; it was more the numbness that bothered you. moving your neck and head didn’t really take much strength, it was attempting to move your legs that was the problem. walking towards you in a shift movement, amanda placed the rich, deep purple hair piece down on top of the dress set she had picked out for you. upon arrival, she softly removed your blanket and shifted your body into a sitting position. you felt like a doll.

“okay now miss, i will be lifting you up to wash you now.”

placing her right arm underneath the backs of your knees and her left arm supporting your neck, she quickly moved you to the area you’re assuming was the bathroom. the door to the large room was already open, since once she had lifted you up, cynthia had pushed the door open and walked in herself. the room was massive, twice the size of a normal person’s kitchen. the walls and floor tiles were both the same shade of pale pink, matching the sleeping set you had on. amanda sat you down in a chair and started to strip you down. while she was doing that, the other was running the bath water and testing if it was safe enough. every time the water was a bit too hot or too cold, you saw cynthia’s eyes squeeze shut.

“alright madam edina,”

cynthia sighed, standing up from the clam shaped tub.

“it’s all set for you. please do not make it hard as you have always done.”

not sparing you even a small look, she and amanda were already picking you up and guiding you into the tub. quietly instructing you to lay back, wet, cold liquid found its way both on your scalp and on your legs. edina? are you sure thats what she said? the only edina you knew of was the villainess from the hit novel “obsession falls”. you never really read the book, but you knew of the characters and the content that surrounded it. it was rather controversial for how obsessive and dangerous the male lead was. he had stalked the female lead for years, and it didn’t stop once he got married. with a wife so dismissive and uninterested, the male lead was given all the time in the world to go hunt his prey.

unfortunately for him, once edina randomly started to care about what her husband was doing during the day he had to slowly stop. losing the love of his life to the second male lead, alastair. due to this very random string of events, saer had grown irritated by the events his wife was clumsily stringing together. he then decided to take care of his wife, edina. the night before he was to go and kill alastair, he had poisoned the dinner he had helped make for his wife. from your memory, this was one of the few times in years he had asked his wife to sit at the table and eat with him. she would usually just take her food into her room separately. this night, edina came into the dining room with her most expensive jewelry and dress. she thought this was the night her husband was going to admit his faults and leave the female lead for her. however, what actually ended up happening was that the moment she took a bite out of her steak, her vision went black and her head banged on the table.

focusing on the soft brushes of your hair, you start to put the pieces together. you don’t remember the faces of any of the characters in the story, you just remember the basic blot and conflict. if what cynthia said was true, that you are in fact edina tudor gwynn then that means the reasoning for your stiff body was because of your ‘husband’ trying to kill you. sharply sucking in some air, you seek strength within your legs. even though the lower half of your body was still partially numbed, the feeling of pins and needles filled the tip of your toes to the back of your knees. not wanting to cause much of a scene, even though you were sure she wouldn’t care much, you looked up to check to see if your maid was paying you any mind. cynthia was too focused on rinsing your body, while amanda stopped brushing your hair to grab towels for you.

“cynthia,”

it was amazing how you could even get that out. due to the affects of the poison, your throat had become overly dry and it hurt you to even swallow. that was mainly one of the reasons as to why you hardly spoke to them this morning. stopping in her tracks, she lazily turned her head into your direction. the woman didn’t have much of any emotion on her face. her eyelids halfway down, making it appear that she was tired or just bored. her lips were in a thin line. you had hardly seen her smile or really speak, so you started to believe this was just how her resting face looked like.

“why did he poison me?”

tilting her head a bit, cynthia’s facial expression changed. it was as if your question intrigued her. her low eyelids raised a bit, along side her eyebrows, as she tried to tame the smile that was creeping on her thin lips. this was the most expressive you have ever seen her. she began to part her lips when amanda came back through the door with the towels.

“perhaps this conversation will need to be revisited, my lady.”

#female reader #yandere #yandere x reader #x reader #yandere oc #yay ocs #yay isekai #yandere isekai #yandere crown prince #yandere prince #yandere x female reader #yandere boy

[chaedomi]

THE CROWN PRINCESS

SUMMARY . after visiting her mother, lyrica finds herself learning about the mysterious crown princess who resides inside the sun palace.

CHARACTERS . LYRICA NARA TAKAR / BRINNE SOL

WARNINGS . YANDERE, female child reader, platonic, ooc (if i missed any, kindly alert me)

WORDCOUNT . 2.9k+ / MASTERLIST.

LETTERS . i'd like to make it known that this fanfiction was inspired by lyomeii's works ─ ( one / two ) yeah, i do plan to make this into a little platonic yandere series. and since this is a little introduction to it all, there won't be as much action in this compared to others that (hopefully) will come. 'breanna' is a character made by me on the spot. oh, God, this is so bad

LYRICA WAS having the best day of her life. Her mother had just bestowed upon her something truly precious—a silver coin, unparalleled to all the riches that could be offered. Honestly, when she lost the first silver coin she had earned back in the slums, she felt a sense of disappointment. That coin had been her pride, marked and stained with all the times she held it, dreaming of a better future. She never aspired to acquire another, as it couldn't compare to the first one she had cherished for so long. But, who cared? Even if it wasn't the same coin, it was still a silver coin—her precious silver coin.

"Ah... Huh...?" Lyrica's footsteps halted as something interesting captured her attention. The Black Dragon Chamber next door was The Crown Prince's room, and right next to it was another door—the entrance to The Crown Princess's chambers. It occurred to Lyrica that she had never laid eyes on The Crown Princess before. The Crown Princess hadn't even been present at her mother's and His Majesty's wedding!

Lyrica lifted her gaze to examine the sign above the chamber door. Said signs depicted the theme of the chambers and, by extension, identified the type of dragon associated with The Crown Princess.

However, instead of the expected dragon imagery, there was what Lyrica recognized as a constellation.

"Oh my," Brinne spoke beside Lyrica, causing the little girl to startle, as the voice was unexpected. "It seems that Your Highness has stumbled across something very interesting. Would you like me to explain, Your Highness?"

"Huh...?" Lyrica blinked at her servant before finally catching on. "O... Oh, yes, please!"

Brinne laughed in response to Lyrica's enthusiasm. "Recall when I mentioned that His Majesty and House Takar trace their lineage to dragons? I also explained that House Wolfe descends from wolves, and House Sandar's ancestry is tied to a colossal snake as thick as a tree."

Brinne’s eyelids fluttered open, and Lyrica could see for herself the fondness swirling in her amethyst-hued eyes.  Lyrica's curiosity deepened even more as a result of this reaction. Minor details about The Crown Princess's existence are known, yet she already fascinates Lyrica. In the 'White Dragon Chamber,' Lyrica remembers the information Brinne shared with her. The Founder of the prosperous Takar Nation was a dragon, leading to the Imperial Family (comprising Takars) being named after these mythical creatures.

So, why is it that you, The Crown Princess, aren't named after a dragon? Your hand was given to The Crown Prince, which rightfully places you within the Imperial Family. However, you carry the identity of something different—a star, or more precisely, a constellation of stars known as Pollux.

Lyrica resisted the urge to ask, concerned about overwhelming Brinne with questions she might not have answers to. However, the more she thought, the more she wanted answers. Despite the unsettling tales she had heard about The Emperor, her stepfather had proven to be benevolent. It wasn't as if The Emperor despised you otherwise, he wouldn't have permitted you to reside in The Sun Palace and ''''marry'''' The Crown Prince. So, why...?

Lyrica bit her lip and groaned, ultimately yielding to her curiosity. "The Family Crest of High-Ranking Nobles symbolizes their ancestry. However, considering House (L.N) bears the crest of a star, does that suggest that The Crown Princess is descended from a star?" Brinne tilted her head and beamed, satisfied with Lyrica's analysis. "Exactly!"

Although Brinne appeared content, Lyrica felt the opposite, her eyebrows furrowing in dissatisfaction. "But... I thought all Takars were named after dragons. What about The Crown Princess?" It's only at that moment that Brinne understands the confusion of The Young Princess. Brinne's smile widened further, momentarily causing Lyrica to worry about the strain on her jaw muscles.

"It's as you mentioned, Your Highness. All Takars, even those married into The Imperial Family, bear dragon names. But, The Crown Princess is only engaged to His Highness.” Brinne replied, a sly smirk gracing her stunning features. Lyrica's expression faltered as she processed her servant's words. “Your Highness, let me make it known that His Majesty deeply admires House (L.N), especially The Crown Princess."

As the realization dawned on her, Lyrica almost jumped in surprise. Tolerance and respect were one thing, but admiration? Another question was… why did Brinne tell her all of this when she had first moved into her chambers? Did she forget…?

Brinne giggled at Lyrica’s reaction. "With admiration comes a deep bond. As we know, His Majesty cannot rule forever, nor will it be advised for his nephew to rule alone. And so, because His Majesty trusts no one as he trusts House (L.N), he decided that one of them shall ascend to the throne alongside his nephew. Despite the many good suitors House (L.N) had to offer, The Crown Princess was chosen as she not only captured him with her abilities but her personality as well."

“Of course, to be a Crown Princess, you need to marry The Crown Prince first. However, His Majesty’s instructions to address Her Highness as such regardless is a way of showcasing her permanent ascension.”

Lyrica's eyebrows rose at the revelation. Well, now it makes sense why you weren’t identified as a dragon. Forget what she said about the marriage thing too. "But wait! Even if The Crown Princess didn’t receive that privilege, would she still be considered important, perhaps more so than High-Ranking Nobles?"

Brinne hummed in thought. “She would still be considered as a High-Ranking Noble even if she and those in House (L.N) hold more privileges than the others in the same noble class. …It’s all because of His Majesty’s orders. Everything is. You are aware of how absolute His Majesty’s orders are, right? If His Majesty commands people to act like animals, they will do just that. If His Majesty says to idolize an object, they will do just that! Even more so if His Majesty orders his people to respect House (L.N) just as they respect House Takar, they will do just that. It doesn’t matter if people are pleased with the arrangements or not. ...His Majesty’s reason for doing so all aligns with the shared history of House Takar and House (L.N).”

Lyrica became intrigued by that bit of information. "Shared history?" She leaned in, eager to learn more. "Can you tell me more, Brinne?" Unfortunately, Brinne responded with an apologetic smile, disappointing Lyrica.

"Regrettably, that's the extent of my knowledge regarding the relationship between House (L.N) and House Takar. It's a limit for anyone," Brinne's lips tightened. "The narrative unfolds after the nation's expansion and the allegiance of House Sandar and House Wolfe, undoubtedly including the deeds of House (L.N) that earned His Majesty's favor."

"However, crucial details of this significant historical period somehow vanished. Consequently, over time, people began crafting theories about how House (L.N) and House Takar evolved into their current relationship. Some theories were logical, while others were entirely nonsensical. And, of course, some seized the opportunity for profit, as seen in the widely popular children's fairytale, 'The Dragon Who Fell In Love With A Star.' You must have heard of it, haven't you?"

Lyrica recalled hearing a similar story in the slums, never imagining its connection to something so crucial. "That's incredible!" she exclaimed.

"Despite these theories, none have been confirmed. House (L.N) and House Takar are the only ones capable of such confirmation. However, His Majesty has maintained silence on the matter, and House (L.N) feels compelled to align with his decision."

"Yet, certain aspects remain clear. Regardless of factual evidence, His Majesty holds House (L.N) in high regard. Thus, we are to treat them with respect, just as we will respect House Takar. Whether others agree or disagree is unimportant."

“Either way, the latter is not a concern,” Brinne continued. “Everyone in this nation is fond of House (L.N), or in this case, The Crown Princess.”

Lyrica cocked her head to the side. “Even you?”

"Yes, Your Highness! Why wouldn't I?" Brinne laughed. "Allow me to explain how House (L.N) operates. As we are aware, High-Ranking Nobles align themselves with the symbols on their crests. Given that House (L.N) traces its lineage to a star... it's worth noting that House (L.N) is the largest Noble Family in the nation. This serves as a symbolic representation of the countless stars that adorn the sky."

"B-Billions!?" Lyrica stammered, staring at Brinne with widened eyes.

"Oh, dear." Brinne covered her mouth. "Your Highness, House (L.N) doesn't quite literally have billions. However, like certain traits are inherent to specific Noble Families, having large kin is one characteristic of House (L.N). So, fear not, Your Highness; having a small family circle is normal. House (L.N) just happens to multiply at a very alarming rate... to the extent that they are scattered throughout all corners of the nation."

"Due to their extensive family, House (L.N) has implemented a system within their household to maintain order. Drawing inspiration from astrology, where eighty-eight constellations are recognized, House (L.N) has structured itself into eighty-eight classes, each with varying levels of power and status. However, within these eighty-eight classes, there exist twelve classes that house the highest positions. I find myself intrigued by the method they use to organize it all..."

"But, moving on!" Brinne placed her hands on her knees. "Your Highness, are you familiar with the twelve constellations of the universe?"

"Yes! Glendelyn taught me about them! It's uh... Aries, Taurus, Gemini, Cancer, Leo, Virgo, Libra, Scorpio, Sagittarius, Capricorn, Aquarius, and Pisces... right!?" Lyrica grinned, pleased with herself for recalling both the names and pronunciation.

"And those would be the twelve classes of House (L.N) with the highest status and power! The Crown Princess oversees Class Gemini of House (L.N), in part. As we know, Gemini is a twin star encompassing both Pollux and Castor. Therefore, Gemini is responsible for two individuals, with The Crown Princess having authority over Pollux."

Brinne's eyes crinkled with amusement. "It makes me wonder... if House (L.N)'s class sorting is also influenced by personality traits..."

"What makes you think that...?" Lyrica inquired, tilting her head to the side.

"Pollux means 'very sweet' or 'fit for royalty.' And when compared to both Castor and Pollux, Pollux is the brighter star of the two." Brinne giggled. "'Fit for royalty'... truly describes The Crown Princess! The Crown Princess can also be characterized as... bright and pure. Undoubtedly, she possesses the most beautiful soul in the entire nation."

In Lyrica's thoughts, she argues that her mother is the most beautiful soul of all!

"Generous, selfless, and loving. The Crown Princess consistently treats everyone impartially and respectfully, ignoring class or personality. When she had more freedom before getting engaged, The Crown Princess frequently visited the lower class, playing with the little children there. She gave them gifts, food, and clothes, disregarding the opinions of those in the Noble Status," Brinne explained.

"Now, with increased power, The Crown Princess has expressed her intent to enhance the quality of life for the lower class. His Majesty has already given his approval, leaving the timing of the project's initiation to The Crown Princess." Brinne hummed. "In summary, The Crown Princess is admired not just for her history and status. It's her demeanor and how she treats others, whether good or evil, that truly highlights her charm."

By now, Lyrica's eyes were gleaming. "She does sound amazing..." As someone who had previously lived in the slums, hearing about how The Crown Princess cared so tenderly for her fellow people deeply touched Lyrica. Typically, individuals of higher status tended to be snobbish and avoided those from lower classes, using harsh and insulting labels. Lyrica was all too familiar with that. However, there were exceptions—The Crown Princess, who cared for them despite their backgrounds, striving to improve their lives! Lyrica's thoughts began to wander, imagining what her life might have been like if she had encountered The Crown Princess in the past.

The only issue in her thoughts was, "Brinne, how exactly does The Crown Princess look?"

"Hmm... Let me think about how I can describe this. Your Highness, when you gaze at the stars at night, what's the first thing that comes to your mind?" Brinne inquired.

"Well, I always think about how beautiful the stars look tonight," Lyrica responded promptly.

“It’s the same for House (L.N). They possess a certain essence that makes them shine, glitter, and sparkle. The Crown Princess is no exception. She has gorgeous (h.c) hair that sparkles under the sunlight, and (s.c) skin that glows with the moonlight. However, what truly sets The Crown Princess apart within her House is her eyes. Those eyes of hers... are the physical embodiment of her lineage. With (e.c) eyes that sparkle like fine jewels, she carries the entire universe in them."

Lyrica's jaw dropped in amazement. "Is that another form of symbolism...?"

Brinne shook her head. "This time, it's quite literal." Seeing Lyrica's face scrunch up in suspicion, Brinne resisted the urge to giggle. "Oh my, Your Highness. I assure you, I'm not making fun of you for thinking House (L.N) consisted of billions of members. I don't blame you for being skeptical. Eyes resembling the universe? It does sound far-fetched, especially when no one else is known for having such a trait. But, it is the truth."

Lyrica pouted, fiddling with her clothes. "All of this talk just makes me want to meet The Crown Princess!"

"Huhu~ I'm certain The Crown Princess would have loved to meet you too, Your Highness. Unfortunately, current circumstances just won't allow her to do so. With The Crown Prince currently absent, The Crown Princess has temporarily taken over his responsibilities, attending to any work that needs to be accomplished in his stead."

"I can recall a day when The Crown Princess looked like a disaster, seconds away from collapsing onto the ground," Brinne shivered. "As much work as it may be, it's what needs to be done. Again, The Crown Prince and The Crown Princess are destined to ascend to the throne one day, signifying the future management of the nation. Thus, they must demonstrate their capabilities to the people, and most importantly, His Majesty."

“Oh!” Lyrica blinked.

“Hmm… Now, I’m not sure, but, come to think of it, you should be able to see The Crown Princess soon, Your Highness.” Brinne added.

“Oh!?” Lyrica exclaimed in a louder tone.

“His Highness should be returning from his feudal territory very soon. And once he does, Her Highness should be able to take a breather from her piles of work.”

Lyrica fell silent, staring at Brinne with a soft expression. Lyrica then smiled fondly, clasping her hands together. “I know The Crown Princess isn’t fully inside the family as yet… Even so, she would be my cousin. But, still… The Crown Princess… would be some form of big sister, right…?”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“YOUR HIGHNESS! I come to you with great news! His Highness should be returning soon!” Gracefully entering the 'Constellation Pollux Chamber,' a maid carrying a golden tray of food and treats hastened toward you, seated upright in your bed, gazing at the scenery beyond your window.

Turning your attention forward, you stared at your maid with widened eyes. "Is that so?" Your surprise quickly morphed into happiness, a smile spreading across your lips as you interlaced your fingers. A flowery aura surrounded you, and your excitement was visible. "That is good news! How long has it been since Atil was gone...? Six months?"

"Precisely," your maid, Breanna, hummed, gently placing the tray on your bed tray table, which you wasted no time digging into. "I can tell that you have many ideas running through your head, Your Highness. I, too, would want to greet someone I cherish with a warm welcome after not seeing them for so long."

"For Atil...? Erm... No, that's not why I'm so excited... I'm excited because I won't have to work as hard as I did anymore!" You beamed without shame. "Ugh, it was torturous... Left, right, and center, it was just piles of paper. Any more, and I would have begun to see the pearly white gates of heaven..."

"Oh, my, is that all? His Highness would be upset if he heard that's the only reason you missed his presence," Breanna giggled.

"...Seriously...?"

"And then there are your new family members, Your Highness."

You paused, fingers clasped around the handle of your spoon. Slowly, you lifted your head to meet your maid's gaze, (e.c) eyes locking with amethyst eyes. "Yes, I have heard about the news. How His Majesty has taken a commoner as his bride, and her child as his daughter."

Your smile widened, lips encased around the tip of the spoon. As if nature were in sync with you, the sunlight cast an ethereal glow on your frame, making you appear more enchanting. Even your maid, who wore a sly smirk seconds prior, jaw slackened, staring at you in awe.

"It's a shame I am unable to do anything at the moment. I can't express just how eager I am to meet them. But one thing's for sure... I already see them as family."

In your eyes was the universe. Stars served as pupils, they glowed with endless glee and anticipation.

©chaedomi. please do not modify, edit, copy or reproduce any of the works published.

#🥛━ 𝓒𝐇𝐀𝐄 #my mom got a contract marriage #mmgacm #mmgacm x reader #manhwa x reader #manhwa x you #yandere manhwa x reader #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #platonic yandere #yandere platonic #child reader #female reader

[thehighladywrites]

— “it’ll be our little secret, professor”

☀︎ - pairing: eris vanserra x reader

☀︎ - summary: you hook up with this delicious older man for one fun night to forget your scummy ex, what do you do when the same man turns out to be your new professor?

☀︎ - warnings: smut, oral (m.receiving), hint of degradation, taboo relationships, student x professor, both are obviously old enough, i just want him so bad GOD

☀︎ - amara’s note: this is going to be a series where i’ll post text threads with prof eris, headcanons, just different things. I’m planning this series to be about 10 chapters, but I literally have no structure, I just write. also i hope you like this as much as I do. and if you see any mistakes, no you don’t

In the corner of the club, everything felt a bit fuzzy. The air was thick with a mix of excitement and different scents. Dim lights created a soft atmosphere, and the distant sounds of the crowd and music blended together. It was like time slowed down, and you were in your own world, just soaking in the low-key vibe of the club corner.

The earlier shots hit you, and now you're in a blissful, relaxed state. All you could focus on were the hands exploring your body, lips locking with yours, and captivating scent surrounding you.

In the heat of the night, you ended up kissing a stranger without a second thought. The risk of being alone with someone unfamiliar did register – you just didn't care. Discovering your boyfriend's cheating after a difficult three-year relationship, marked by numerous breakups and makeups, left you feeling free from a toxic situation.

Now, free from those shackles, you embraced the chance to breathe and have some carefree fun. You had gone out with your friends, planning to originally get black out drunk but you suppose there’s better ways to cope.

Coming up with the idea of harmless fun, you and Elain came up with new identities for everyone to play out. Providing a random name, you spun a fat lie of being an up-and-coming writer, in the middle of writing your latest novel. Falsely claiming to be older, you described a beautiful house situated on the outskirts of Prythian that you owned. It was all part of a lighthearted game, with no harm intended since you believed you'd never cross paths with the guy again. It was ridiculously easy to bag the man since he didn’t tell you anything about himself, only nodding when you talked about yourself.

The attractive stranger had dark copper hair, captivating amber eyes, and stood several inches taller than you. His eyes glistened in mirth mixed with hunger. His muscular build caught your attention, and you found yourself grabbing onto his strong arms.

If his looks didn't captivate you, his mouth certainly did. His wicked tongue unleashed clever comebacks and tantalizing dirty talk that sent shivers down your spine.

The best part? He was older, more mature, more confident and much more good-looking – just so much more than your ex. Comparisons might be wrong, but if you had to choose, the man in front of you was a no-brainer.

Because he wasn't some guy; he was a man who acted like a man, who spoke like a man and touched you like a real fucking man.

The man had been touching and kissing you for what felt like an eternity. You greedily wanted more from him. You didn't want to regret not taking the chance, and almost as if he could sense it, he invited you back to his place.

You nodded, excusing yourself to let your friends know about leaving. Approaching them, you shared your decision to go with him, and Gwyn, Nesta, Em and Elain cheered you on. However, Feyre, always the protective friend, expressed her concern.

“Go get some, but I swear I’ll hunt him down if anything happens, got it? And have your location on.”

Her words, while somewhat playful, held a genuine undertone of worry.

You nodded and promised her you’d be safe before hurriedly made your way outside to the handsome man.

“Still want to come with me, sweet thing?” he asked curiously, making sure it was still something you wanted.

“Mm, yeah, still wanna go. Unless you've changed your mind?” Stepping forward, you grabbed the man's tie, pulling it gently as you looked up at him with half-lidded eyes. A playful glint clouded your gaze as you cocked your head to the side, oozing confidence.

He smirked down at you with a wicked glint, clearly showing his mind was nowhere near changed. The man stepped forward, rubbing his clothed cock against your dress, making you feel his hard on through his pants

“Does it feel like I’ve changed my mind?”

The chemistry you had was unmatched, he was so clever and witty and you wanted to know more about him as he led you to his car, a sleek, black one, indicating money.

You’d blame your forwardness on the alcohol tomorrow when you remembered how you just blurted out the question.

“Hey, you rich or something?” you giggled.

The man opened up the backseat door for you and through the side of his eye gave you an amused smirk.

“Or something.” he teased.

You rolled your eyes, grinning, as you hopped into the backseat, enjoying the warmth of his hands securing your seatbelt and closing the door.

But hold on, the backseat?

Weren't you supposed to sit upfront with him? Before you could ask, he opened the other backseat door and slid in beside you.

Maintaining eye contact, he grinned at your confusion and said, “Alden, please take us home.” A faint "yes sir" was heard, and the car started moving. Shocked, you realized he had a driver – clearly, he was quite wealthy.

You scanned the spacious car, realizing there was more than enough room for the fun activities on your mind. With a screen separating you from the driver, you unbuckled your seatbelt and moved closer, straddling his lap.

His hands instinctively found your hips, guiding your movements over him. Lips on your neck, he left dark marks as your hands ventured lower, reaching his cock, which elicited a groan from him. Your eyes widened as you felt the size of him. The man simply flashed you a subtle smile and raised his eyebrows.

You unbuckled his belt, maintaining eye contact as you carefully watched his face show pleasure as you put your hand down his pants and stroked him. You gave him a few lazy strokes, eventually shuffling off his lap and kneeling infront of him, ready to put your mouth to use.

Time became irrelevant and all that was heard were the sinful, obscene noises mixed with his hisses of pleasure as you sloppily bobbed your head up and down, swirling your tounge around the head, running your finger over the slit.

“Fuck yeah, that’s it. Could use this slutty little mouth forever.” he rasped, hips bucking as his hands went to your hair, slightly pulling on it as you let out a muffled whimper.

Pre cum and spit dripped down your chin, slowly making it’s way to your chest and floor as you pushed your head down further and further, feeling satisfied at his sounds of pleasure.

Once, twice, you grip on the shaft and slap the tip on your tongue before sucking on the sensitive head.

With a quick twitch of his cock, he cums, experiencing euphoria in his buzzed state. He gasps and moans pitifully as his lips twitch between his teeth and his hips buck into your mouth against his better judgement. You pump your hand at the base of his cock where you are unable to fit, swallowing as much of the hot, sticky ropes that coat your mouth as you can. As he pours into you, the walls of your pussy clench around nothing, so badly wishing your were sitting on the cock that was currently on your tongue.

His cum was everywhere - your hair, your face, your tits. He slumped against the seat and moved his eyes down back to you, catching you licking of the sticky residue of your fingers.

Before either of you have a chance to say something, the car slows down to a halt signaling that you’re probably at his place. He tucks himself into his pants and doesn’t buckle them before he opens the door and grabs you, throwing you over his shoulder as you laugh. Your mind forgets about the fact that you’re covered in his cum and just blanks when you take a look at his so called house, a mansion or a fucking estate is more like it.

The lengthy driveway opened up to a stunning front yard adorned with red and orange-leaved trees, an unusual scene for the end of summer. A well-lit, ornate fountain with three tiers stood proudly infront of the house, enhancing the beauty of the surroundings. The massive Victorian mansion, with its beautiful windows and overgrown vines stunned you.

He set you down and held your hand as he led you into his room, and it overmet your expectations. Instead of a dark, edgy space, it was spacious with earthy tones and bathed in soft ambient lighting. The room exuded comfort, making you wish to stay longer. His bed, adorned with a large fluffy comforter and a million pillows, looked inviting.

Various trinkets and figurines adorned the room, but what captured your attention was a massive bookcase showcasing your favorite books. Intrigued, you dropped his hand and made your way over. Your eyes widened at seeing a book from your wishlist, yet to be released. Confused, you asked how he had it, and he explained that Sellyn Drake was an old family friend and had gifted it to him.

You decided to tease him about the book, saying, “You know, I've heard great many things about this book. How about you tell me what it's about? I heard it had some... exciting scenes.”

His eyes met yours, and with a subtle smile, he stepped closer and closer, “How about I show you instead?” The air seemed to thicken with a hint of tension, leaving you curious and captivated by the possibilities that lingered in his suggestion.

——

Your legs trembled as you hastily stood up, determined to make your exit. Having been fucked stupid all night, dawn was approaching, and the new semester was starting tomorrow, leaving you with a load of preparations. You located your dress, bag, and heels, putting the clothes on carefully. Quietly, you ordered a cab to avoid startling the man still asleep. Before leaving, your eyes lingered on his bookshelf. Tiptoeing closer, you took the book you'd eyed the night before and read the teaser on the back. Glancing between him and the book, grabbed it, and silently left his room and house.

——

Feyre, Elain, Nesta, Gwyn and Em, your friends and roomates, practically pulled you across campus to grab your schedule and check out the new students filling the cafeteria. The buzz of excited chatter and the aroma of coffee and sweet pastries filled the air as you scanned the room. After a few moments, you parted ways, each heading to your respective classrooms, the anticipation of a new semester buzzing in the atmosphere.

You wandered through the literature building, searching for classroom LE4, the place where Advanced Literature with Professor Beron awaited. Memories of your first year with him being an absolute ass lingered, so you hoped he'd calmed down over the summer, giving everyone a fucking break.

You finally entered the huge lecture hall and climbed the stairs, opting for a seat at the back, hoping to fly under the radar in case Professor Beron was in a bad mood.

A few rows down, you spotted your ex, Ilias, with a new girl on his lap. His sleazy smile and wandering hands were more icky than anything ever. Reflecting on why you ever went back to him so many times, you turned around, focused on bringing out your notebook and computer from your bag. As the doors opened, the click-clack of quality shoes echoed through the hall, accompanied by girly giggles and voices creating a murmur in the background.

A jolt of surprise froze you, and your heart seemed to pause for a moment as his voice unexpectedly filled the room. All your previous movement ceased, and a sudden hush fell over the surroundings, creating an atmosphere charged with unexpected tension. The shock of hearing someone you hoped thought to see again made time momentarily stand still.

“Hello. I'm Professor Eris, and I'll be taking over this class. My father used to teach it but has passed away, so I'll be filling his shoes. I anticipate a productive year together. If you doubt your ability to keep up with the rapid pace of this advanced class, I suggest you leave now and spare yourself, as well as me, the trouble.”

Panicking, your eyes scanned the room for any possible escape route. There was just no fucking way you could be in this class when your professor had fucked you against his bookshelf, or when you had his dick shoved down your throat. Sinking in your seat, you desperately opened your computer, using it as a shield, praying he wouldn't notice you. The need to escape intensified, but the fear of drawing attention kept you frozen in your seat.

As dread crept in, he pulled out an attendance list. The sinking feeling deepened as he insisted everyone state why they chose the course. Hiding behind your computer, you debated revealing your presence or attempting to stay under the radar.

"Ilias Smith?"

"Emma Wilson?"

"Jess Lennox?"

"Amanda Gomez?"

Each one confidently declared "here" and delved into passionate remarks about Hemingway, Austen, Kerouac, all the authors that made them choose this course or whatever. Your hands started sweating as Professor Eris called your name. When you hesitated, he repeated it louder, his gaze scanning until it locked onto you.

Anticipating an intense reaction, all you saw was a slight narrowing of his eyes.

“Well? Are you here, Y/N L/N?”

You mumbled a faint "yeah," and when he asked why you were there, your words fumbled, “Uh, I suppose because I like books. A huge fan. Yes.”

Your classmates chuckled at your less-than-impressive answers, and you sunk back into your chair, just observing for the rest of the lecture. A few rows ahead, a group of girls giggled, thinking they were discreet as they whispered about Professor Eris. Their discussions about their fantasies sparked a tiny irritation within you.

Like who the hell gossips about someone, so crudely in broad daylight and during a lecture, especially when it's about a professor? It wasn't jealousy, no, no definitely not.

You just found it… super unsettling.

——

After two suffocating hours, you hastily packed your bag, eager to escape. But just as you were about to disappear, your name echoed in the room.

“Miss L/N, do you mind staying behind? There seems to be a problem with your email,” Professor Eris announced, leaning against his desk with his massive arms crossed. He bid the remaining students goodbye and waited until they all left before locking the doors.

The moment those doors clicked shut, the atmosphere in the room shifted dramatically. The tension became so thick you could practically cut it with a knife.

He turned back around and approached you, merely a few inches away, face a mix of amusement and curiosity.

“Hello there, little liar. I certainly didn’t expect to see you here.”

Your cheeks heated and nervousness filled you at the memory of the depraved moments you'd shared, causing your gaze to involuntarily drop to his chest and wander downward, reliving those sensations.

However any nervousness vanished as you remembered that he was the one who came to your university. If anyone should’ve been surprised it should’ve been you. A mischievous smile played on your lips as you toyed with the idea of making his year more challenging. Testing how good of a man he really was became a tempting game.

After all, a man like him wouldn't indulge a student, right?

This could turn into a fun little project to spice up an otherwise dull year.

Lifting your chin up, you looked him square in the eyes as your lips twitched in anticipation.

“I could say the same, Professor Eris. You definitely don’t seem like the lecturer type.”

His eyes narrowed at you, jaw clenching as his intense gaze bore into yours. The intensity made you shift a little, almost causing you to lose some of your confidence.

“Do you think you're funny? I believe you understand the situation here. You lied and now you're here of all places. As my student. Well, this is an unexpected twist. One of us will have to quit and report this,” he stated, injecting a hint of playfulness into his serious tone.

Wait, quit? No, you really didn't want him to leave. This could turn into such a nice little distraction, and there was no way you were losing it now. The thought of him leaving added a layer of urgency to the situation, making you quickly reassess the potential consequences.

“Come on, professor. It doesn't have to be like this. I won't tell anyone. And who says we have to stay away from each other? I mean, what the dean doesn't know won't hurt him, right?” you suggested, a sly smile playing on your lips as you flirted with the idea of bending the rules.

Eris looked you up and down before throwing his head back and letting out a hearty laugh. Your brows furrowed as you twisted your lips, wondering if he was laughing at you. Was he not taking you seriously? Despite the uncertainty, the desire to keep playing this game with him intensified.

Eris seemed to notice your mood turning sour and promptly clamped his lips shut.

“I promise, sweet thing, I'm not laughing at you. I’m just amazed at your boldness.” he assured you with a more serious tone, attempting to dispel any misunderstanding.

“Promise?”

He stepped forward, “Cross my heart and hope to die.”

You both knew that under no circumstances should you be doing this. If anyone caught you, there would be hell to pay. Expulsion and blacklisting from any other Ivy League universities for you, and definitely prison or some sort of pesky law thingy for him.

Yet the mere thought of engaging in something so wrong and secretive made your stomach flip, a mix of thrill and anxiety churning within you.

Looking up through your lashes, you blushed, a deep crimson hue spreading across your cheeks as you once again grabbed his tie and pulled him closer.

“I promise I won't tell anyone, professor. It'll be our little secret,”you whispered, the words laden with a taboo excitement that sent a shiver down your spine.

A wicked gleam flashed in Eris's eyes, and a subtle smirk tugged at the corners of his lips.

“Well then, miss L/N,”he whispered, his voice low and conspiratorial. “Let's see just how well we can keep our little secret.”

#talkswithamara #acotar #acotar x reader #a court of thorns and roses #acotar imagine #eris #professor eris #i need eris so bad rn y’all i’m not joking #eris acosf #eris vanserra acotar #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra #eris acotar #eris x reader #professor eris vanserra #student x professor #professor x reader #tabooromance #nesta archeron #feyre cursebreaker #feyre archeron #elain archeron #emerie #gwyneth berdara #feyre archeron x reader #nesta x reader #elain x reader #azriel x reader #rhys x reader #cassian x reader

[mmountseb]

Your Shirt

Warnings: fluff, mentions of sex

Notes: haven’t wrote one in so long and decided to finally give it a go hope you like it

Your Shirt - Mason Mount fluff

As Mason lays beside Y/N in his bed, his heart swelled with a potent mixture of desire and pride as he gazed upon her wearing nothing but his England shirt, with his name proudly displayed on her back.

As much as she was from a different country she still felt the need to wear his country shirt with his name on her back

The fabric draped over her curves in a tantalizing display, accentuating her beauty and igniting a fierce sense of possessiveness within him.

He wanted her in a way they hadn’t been intimate yet

With each glance at her, Mason felt a surge of desire well up inside him, knowing that she had chosen to wear his shirt, a symbol of their connection and intimacy.

The sight of her wearing it filled him with a sense of validation and belonging, as if she had willingly wrapped herself in his identity, embracing all that he was.

It was the deeper, more profound sense of intimacy and trust that it represented.

In that moment, as they lay together in the quiet intimacy of their shared space, Mason felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the woman beside him, for her unwavering support and love.

As he reached out to trace the letters of his name on her back, Mason couldn't help but feel a surge of desire course through him, the warmth of her skin beneath his fingertips sparking a fire within him that burned with a fierce intensity.

Their bodies pressed together in the quiet intimacy of their shared space, as much as he was supposed to be paying attention to the film she had picked he couldn’t help himself but letting his mind wander to how would it feel to have her ride him while wearing his name on her back

His mind was travelling to forbidden territory, fueled by the intoxicating sight of her wearing nothing but his England shirt.

With each gentle movement she made, the fabric of the shirt shifted against her skin, accentuating her curves and igniting a primal desire within him.

As he watched her, a vivid image began to form in his mind—a fantasy of Y/N pleasuring him while still wearing his shirt.

The thought alone sent a shiver of anticipation down his spine, his body responding instinctively to the imagined sensation of her hands roaming his skin beneath the fabric.

Lost in the intensity of his desire, Mason couldn't help but hug her from behind while hiding his face on the curve of her neck and pulling her even closer enough to let her know that he was turned on

Y/N's innocent apology cut through Mason’s reverie, snapping him back to the present moment with a jolt.

He blinked, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment at the realization of where his thoughts had taken him.

Y/N: "I'm sorry, Mase. I didn't mean to... you know, make you feel... turned on."

Her words were tentative, laced with a hint of uncertainty as she glanced at him, her cheeks tinged with a delicate blush.

Mason: "No babe it's not your fault. You have nothing to apologize for."

His voice came out a little too hastily, a touch of awkwardness coloring his tone as he tried to reassure her.

Mason: "I mean, it's just... you look really good in my shirt, and... well, I couldn't help but let my mind wander a bit."

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise at his candid admission, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she processed his words.

Y/N: "Oh, um... thank you. I guess I didn't realize the effect it would have on you." She said turning around to face him on his embrace

Mason: "Yeah, well... you have that effect on me, Y/N. You always have."

His words came out softer than he had intended, tinged with a vulnerability he hadn't planned on revealing.

But as he looked into Y/N's eyes, he knew that he couldn't hide the truth from her—that she had always held a power over him, a power that transcended words and boundaries.

Y/N's smile widened at his admission, a warmth spreading through her at the depth of his feelings

She felt bravely enough to bite her lips and take her hands to his hair.

Not before taking his hands further down on her body earning a gently tugging on her soft but cheek

Y/N: "You have that effect on me too”

In that moment, as they shared a knowing glance, Mason felt a sense of connection and understanding wash over him

He felt the need to pull her even closer even if it wasn’t physically possible anymore

As their eyes locked in a shared moment of understanding and vulnerability, the air between them crackled with unspoken tension. In a surge of longing and desire, Mason leaned in closer, his lips hovering just inches from Y/N's.

With a whispered exhale, Y/N closed the remaining distance, her lips meeting his in a kiss that ignited a firestorm of passion between them.

Their mouths moved together with a fervent hunger, each touch sending sparks of electricity coursing through their veins.

His hands found their way to Y/N's waist, under the shirt, pulling her closer as he deepened the kiss, their bodies melding together in a primal dance of desire.

Y/N responded eagerly, her fingers tangling in his hair as she pressed herself against him, her heart racing with the intensity of their connection.

Their kiss was filled with an urgency born of longing and need, each touch a silent plea for more.

They lost themselves in the heat of the moment, the world falling away as they surrendered to the raw, unbridled passion that consumed them.

In that fleeting moment, as their lips met in a fervent embrace. There was no turning back anymore now

Lost in the intensity of the moment, they surrendered to the fire that burned between them, their kisses growing more urgent and desperate with each passing second.

Time seemed to stand still as they melted into each other, consumed by the raw passion that ignited their souls

Mason reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair from Y/N's face as he searched her eyes for any sign of regret or hesitation after pulling away from the kiss

Mason: "Are you okay? I didn't mean to... I mean, I hope I didn't..."

Y/N silenced him with a soft kiss, her lips meeting his in a tender embrace that spoke volumes more than words ever could.

Y/N: "I'm more than okay, Mase. I've never felt more alive than I do in this moment."

Mason felt a surge of relief wash over him at her words, his fears and doubts melting away in the warmth of her embrace.

Mason: "Good. Because I... I don't want to stop kissing you. Ever."

Their laughter mingled with the soft sounds of their shared breaths, filling the air with a sense of joy and contentment that seemed to transcend time and space.

Y/N: "Then don't. Kiss me again."

And with that simple invitation, Mason leaned in, capturing Y/N's lips in another electrifying kiss

#mason mount fics #mason mount smuts #mason mount fluff #mason mount #masonmountblurb #mason mount smut #mason mount x reader #masonmountimagine #mason mount imagine #football imagine #england football #football fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction

[kenjakusbrainstem]

Too Much (Kenjaku x Reader x Mahito)

Contains: Double penetration in one hole, manhandling, cunnilingus, m/f/m threesome.

Hello! Day 16 of Kinktober: Double penetration in one hole! This was fun as I just love writing Kenjaku and Mahito together. No real thoughts on this one other than how nice it was to write them having a consensual threeway for once! Crossposted to Ao3 under the same name and shared to twt at kenjakusbrain! Comment or rb if you like <3

Over the decades of devotedly following Kenjaku, you’d met a lot of eccentric people. From strange sorcerers, to power hungry humans, you really felt like there was no way anything could surprise you anymore. However, with Kenjaku’s curiosity and love for chaos, he always managed to keep you on your toes. 

His latest group was no exception, though they did treat you a little differently. While Kenjaku was playing the role of Suguru Geto, you found yourself in a role not too far from your true identity: a devout follower, someone that would do any and everything they were told. While you had more autonomy than that, it did amuse you to be so open about your dedication. To the group of curses he was working with, you were sure they thought of you as some mindless curse user, regardless of how much work you did for their cause. 

The only one that seemed interested in you was Mahito, ironically the one parading as a human. You felt that he understood you in some way, the same way Kenjaku did. While you never explained too much about your technique or identity to the curse, his curiosity showed you that he saw through your mindless devotee mask. Though you did choose to humor him on the occasion you saw each other, Mahito’s near ignorance was integral to Kenjaku’s plan.

You never minded helping either of them though, so when Kenjaku approached you with an odd proposition, you were inclined to agree. His interest in breeding and creating ideal offspring to be vessels had waned over the years, but you knew how much fun he had when experimenting. You’d aided him when he inhabited the body of Noritoshi Kamo, so you were intimately aware of what he was capable of. You weren’t sure how much of this proposal was about procreation, or if he was genuinely interested in exposing Mahito to new human experiences.

Kenjaku had asked you to aid him in teaching Mahito about sex. You knew he’d fucked the curse before, so it wasn’t too far fetched for him to include you. Something about being able to get the full experience, he’d said. Apparently it was harder for him to properly guide Mahito when he was buried inside the curse, which made sense to you. The vessel he currently inhabited was more sensitive than others he’d used. 

That was how you ended up in your current situation, fully nude on Kenjaku’s bed with Mahito in between your thighs. The curse’s tongue was something you’d never experienced in all your years. It had split in two and was lazily pumping inside of you while circling your clit at the same time. You convulsed in pleasure, not expecting to feel so much from a curse that needed to be taught. 

The only thing grounding you was the body pressed up against you. Kenjaku lay at your side, head resting on your chest as his hand was in Mahito’s hair, making sure the curse kept up the pace and didn’t stop until you were ready. The way Mahito’s tongue wrapped around your clit, flicking at the sensitive bud made your thighs quiver. 

“Make sure she’s ready to take you, Mahito. I showed you just how important stretching is, now give her the same courtesy I gave you,” Kenjaku ordered, his voice gentle as he pressed Mahito’s face against your pussy. You knew Kenjaku wasn’t speaking to you but you still felt the need to do as he said, there was just something about his tone that made you want to please him. 

Shifting your hips, you ground your pussy into Mahito’s face, his tongue pressing deeper inside of you with each thrust. As if he too wanted to do what Kenjaku said, you felt the tongue inside you become thicker, pressing against your walls instead of teasing them. Before you knew it, Mahito’s tongue was almost too big to fit inside of you.

Each thrust of his tongue made you feel impossibly full, it was more than you’d ever had inside of you at once before. You could feel how wet you were, a mix of your juices and Mahito’s saliva coating your thighs. It was hard to tell because of how wet you were, but you hadn’t even hit your peak yet. The curse was making you feel so good, but it just hadn’t been enough to push you over the edge.

Mahito’s tongue increased in pace, fucking inside of you just a little faster. The speed change made you clench around his tongue, he was so close to getting you off you could almost taste it. 

Suddenly, the fullness was gone along with the hot tongue wrapped around your clit. You whined, clenching your aching pussy around nothing. Opening your eyes you noticed Kenjaku wasn’t at your side anymore either, he had pulled Mahito up and was kissing him feverishly. You were accustomed to Kenjaku’s more eager, violent kisses, but it was more than arousing to watch him suck your juices off of Mahito’s tongue.

Mahito’s eyes rolled back as Kenjaku held him by the hair still, forcing his head back in a deep kiss. You enjoyed the view, being able to watch Kenjaku take control of someone like this, watching his body and tongue move when you knew how they felt made you want him even more.

“Switch places with her Mahito, I think I know just what you both need,” Kenjaku said, his suggestive voice adding even more fuel to the lustful fire inside of you. You watched as he let go of Mahito, reaching out to you. 

You grasped at his hand with both of yours, allowing him to help you pull yourself up. Forgetting Mahito’s presence for a moment, you pressed your face into Kenjaku’s broad chest, loving the feeling of your bare skin pressed together. He places a soft kiss to the top of your head before he turned you around, your back pressing against his torso.

Looking down at the patchwork curse’s nude body, you had to admit he was the most attractive looking curse you’d ever seen. His features were similar to Kenjaku’s but body was much more lithe than sturdily built. His cock was hard and leaking against his pelvis, not too big to intimidate you. Though knowing he could manipulate his body at will did make you a little nervous.

Kenjaku’s hands went to your hips, urging you forward. You followed his lead, putting your knees on either side of the curse’s hips. When you were in position on top of Mahito, you felt Kenjaku’s hand on your back, pushing you down onto the curse. Leaning forward you felt Kenjaku’s hand slip in between your bodies, grabbing Mahito’s cock and rubbing the tip up against your entrance. 

You moaned, unable to keep your sounds in any longer as you felt Kenjaku press the head of Mahito’s cock inside of you. Kenjaku’s hands moved out from between you and grabbed your hips, pushing you down and forcing the curse’s cock inside of you. You watched Mahito’s face contort in pleasure as he throbbed inside of you. According to Kenjaku, he’d not let Mahito fuck him yet, only sucked him off, so this was likely the first time he’d been buried inside someone else.

A little more manhandling from Kenjaku and you were full of Mahito’s cock, he pulled you up, your back flush with his chest once more. Kenjaku’s hands didn’t leave your hips, he wanted full control over both of you and it seemed you were both eager to give it to him.

As Kenjaku started to bounce you on Mahito’s cock, you let yourself get lost in the way he felt inside of you. Mahito was average size, so you wondered why Kenjaku had been so insistent on stretching, but you were barely able to even think about that with the way he moved your body. Being on top was always fun to you, but now it felt so good, Mahito’s cock bumping into your spot with ease as Kenjaku controlled the pace. 

Mahito’s hands reached out, sliding up your body and grabbing onto your breasts as they bounced in front of them. He squeezed the flesh harshly, making your pussy squeeze around him. It was like he wanted to touch you, but didn’t know what to do exactly, the curse’s inexperience showing.

Kenjaku slowly bent your body forward, your sensitive breasts rubbing up against Mahito’s chest with every bounce of your hips. You were now face to face with the curse, both of you moaning messes. With your open mouths so close, you couldn’t help but kiss Mahito. The kisses were sloppy and both of you moaned into each other's mouths, pleasure too much to keep inside.

Trailing kisses down your spine, Kenjaku sat himself upright, leaving you to focus on kissing Mahito for a moment while he got into position. The whole point to this, the guise of teaching Mahito how to properly fuck someone, was so that he could enjoy you both together. You likely would have agreed even without that, but it was fun for him to have another layer of motivation.

One of his hands left your hip, the other continuing to guide you up and down Mahito’s cock. You wondered what he was doing, but it didn’t take long for you to figure out. Kenjaku’s movements paused, the hand that was bouncing you was now holding you both still with Mahito still buried inside of you.

Before you had a chance to ask what he was doing, you felt the head of his cock prodding up against your entrance alongside Mahito’s. Your eyes snapped open, lips still pressed up against Mahito’s so you were unable to speak. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Kenjaku, you were just worried Mahito hadn’t stretched you enough. 

“Both of you hold still. It’s my turn to join the fun now,” Kenjaku said, voice an almost whisper as he tried to press the head of his cock into your already full pussy. If Mahito was average, Kenjaku’s cock was large, his vessel was more well endowed than nearly all of the ones you’d been intimate with in the past.

It wasn’t long before his insistent rubbing against your wet entrance allowed the head of his cock to slip inside. The stretch was unlike anything you’d ever felt before, it burned but didn’t exactly hurt. The feeling was indescribable, you could feel your pussy clenching around them but tried to relax your muscles. You knew it would be harder for Kenjaku to fuck you like this if your pussy was trying to push him out.

Kenjaku’s hands both returned to your hips, thumbs massaging circles into your flesh as he slowly pressed further into you. Your kiss with Mahito had turned into you trying to focus on breathing while he kissed around your lips, tongue cleaning up evidence of the sloppy kiss you’d shared. His little moans told you that he was also enjoying the way Kenjaku’s cock felt beside his.

Once Kenjaku was fully inside of you, you felt like you were on the verge of passing out, the stretch and feeling of his cock so much further inside of you than Mahito’s made your legs tremble. 

“You’re so tight like this, it shouldn’t take long now just hold on,” Kenjaku said, voice barely composed as he slowly started thrusting in and out of you. Being so full, you felt so much more. Each thrust, no matter how slow you could feel every vein, every twitch of Kenjaku’s cock inside of you.

Even Mahito’s cock felt like too much, Kenjaku’s cock forcing it to stay pressed up against your spot. With every one of Kenjaku’s thrusts it rubbed up against it and filled you with even more pleasure. 

After a few thrusts, Kenjaku picked up the pace and began to fuck into you in earnest. You hadn’t known it was possible to feel this full, or that it could feel this good to have your pussy stuffed with two different cocks. The sounds leaving your mouth were pitiful, each thrust left you whining, only able to stop moaning when Mahito’s tongue entered your mouth. The curse kept trying to kiss you, as if he was unsure what to do with himself. 

You could see that he was enjoying this too, his moans blending in with your own to make a lewd chorus of praise for the way Kenjaku used you both. The only other sound you could register was the slick squelching noise of Kenjaku fucking into you. It was almost embarrassing to know that such a sound was coming from you, but you were far too lost in pleasure to care about that.

Kenjaku’s fingers moved to spread you open more, making it so he could look down and watch his cock disappear into your messy pussy. You felt so tight even though you had never been more open for him. The sight made him pump his cock into you faster, harder than he had been. The gentle edge to his thrusts gone as he fucked into you, chasing his own pleasure.

It was too much for you, from the stretch of the cocks inside you, to Kenjaku’s rough thrusting, even Mahito’s insistent sloppy kisses were pushing you over the edge. You felt yourself release, pussy spasming around the cocks inside of you. The intensity of your orgasm was so much more than you had expected, you weren’t sure if you had blacked out for a moment or if your eyes had rolled back into your head too far. Everything around you felt dizzying.

At the feeling of your pussy spasming, Mahito also was forced over the edge. His cock throbbing as he spilled inside of you. The pleasure being too much for him, he bit down on your lip, adding the taste of blood to your kiss. 

Through both of your orgasms Kenjaku just kept thrusting, it was hard for him to not get off immediately when your pussy was trying to milk him dry with each twitch of its walls. He was close though, leaning down he rested his forehead on your back, body bending at a strange angle to give him more leverage. Fucking into you as hard as he could, not caring about keeping rhythm or how violent his thrusts were.

It was easier for him to move inside of you with Mahito’s cock now soft, each thrust felt different than the last and that was what finally pushed Kenjaku to join you both in bliss. Pressing in as deep as he could, Kenjaku emptied himself, hot release filling you up. You could even feel it leaking out around his cock. 

The three of you stayed like that for a moment, Kenjaku being the first to move when Mahito started whining about being sensitive. After he pulled himself out of you, he lifted you up off of the curse’s cock. You’d hoped he was going to let you rest but when your back hit the mattress you felt him lift your trembling legs into the air. 

Kenjaku kissed at your thighs, not caring that Mahito was watching the strange display of affection. Gently, he spread your folds open to look at the effect he’d had on your pussy. It was puffy and leaking, you wanted to close your legs at the thought of him looking into your gaping entrance. He pressed a sloppy kiss to your clit, pulling a high pitched whine from your throat.

“You did so good, once you rest a little more we can show Mahito even more fun he could have,” Kenjaku said, grinning up at you like he had more in mind. His words were teasing and threatening at the same time. You were, as always, excited and aroused at what he meant.

#kenjaku #mahito #getomahi #jjk x reader #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #jjk smut #mahito smut #kenjaku x reader #kenjaku x mahito #kenjaku x mahito x reader

[coexistentialism]

Finding Your Identities: Figuring Out Your Alters When Your Alters Aren't "Distinct" "People"

I have been wanting to make this post for a very long time now.

I have talked countless times on this blog about how a lot of the "how to figure out your alters" lists do not and cannot apply to me, or systems who may be like me, for a variety of reasons.

We do not have distinct senses of selves, we don't feel like our own distinct individuals, in any way whatsoever. There is no specific, unique, distinct "cue" or feeling or anything that tells me I've switched, or tells me that a specific, distinct alter is fronting who is different from any other alters. There is no specific, distinct THING that tells me "okay yeah that was very obviously and specifically and undeniably a different alter."

It's easy to deny you have alters when your alters are not distinct individuals who know they are their own unique, separate selves. It's easy to deny you have alters when it always feels like "you."

If you don't experience your alters as distinct 'entities' where you can obviously and distinctly refer to them as "that is (that specific alter) and that is not (these other alters)", it can be nearly impossible to figure out your alters at all.

This has been a horrible aspect of my denial since essentially the beginning. I mean, when everything online tells you that DID involves a distinct sense of "not me" to it, how can you know if you have it if it doesn't feel that way to you?

Now obviously I DO have that feeling of "not me"... It's just not described using those specific words. I was taking it all way too literally (thanks, autism NFKDSFDKJ).

It's more like "I don't really feel that way anymore" or "yeah I felt that way, but not anymore."

Or "I don't really relate to that anymore" or "I don't really like this as my identity anymore" or "I don't like this name anymore."

Or "this feels like someone else's life" (but more of a feeling, it's not like I just suddenly don't know anything in my life anymore. I know my girlfriend and love her still and I know I live in this house, etc.)

I'll feel like I am attending therapy because I have to, or I'll feel like I'm relaying information that I know factually, as if I was told a story of things that happened and I have to relay that information to someone else.

Or just generally a weird feeling that something is off.

And that's the thing - dissociation (for me personally) is less like "things aren't real" and "I'm not real" and more like just a vague feeling that something is OFF, and you don't know what, and you can't explain it.

I remember as a kid feeling like I'm the "only conscious being" or "feeling like I'm in an anime" or "acting out a dramatic scene in a movie." Now all three of those descriptions still fall under "feeling like things aren't real/etc." but I never interpreted it that way, because of how literally I take things, I didn't make the connection, because I never used the SPECIFIC wording of "feeling like I'm not real/feeling like the world isn't real/etc."

I straight-up told one of the first therapists I saw for a DID diagnosis that I "don't really dissociate at all" because I don't really experience the "nothing is real/I'm not real/etc."

This, too, brought me a lot of denial, because people only describe dissociation as "things don't feel real", "you don't feel real", "you feel like you're floating", "you're watching yourself", "you're watching the world through fog/glass", etc. And because I never really used those specific words to explain my feelings and experiences, I figured I wasn't really experiencing any dissociation, or at least just very rarely and mildly so.

That's a key thing here - the WORD CHOICES being used to describe alters, systems, CDD experiences, etc. don't really match up with my experiences at all. I take things extremely, extremely literally, and when everybody describes their alters and refers to them as distinct, different people, it's hard to feel like your experiences are the more common experience, especially when people around you might continue to reinforce that denial, by assuming you must not have alters, or you have a different disorder, etc., because you are "always awake and present no matter what alter is fronting", etc.

Your personal interpretation of your experiences matters a LOT when it comes to CDDs, figuring out if you have a CDD, and it also plays a large role into how your system might present/feel/look/what alters you have/etc.

For example, many people interpreted their alter experiences and switches as creating characters. That, then, might become a huge aspect of figuring out your alters - you might realize that many of the characters you've made (or all of them) through the years were actually alters. With that lens, you might, then, be able to have a lot of knowledge about your alters based off of that alone - those "characters" might have specific characteristics, lore, designs, etc. that you then realize were all a part of that alter.

You might also, then, find that each time you find yourself making a "new" "character", it's actually just a new alter forming/splitting (or perhaps them just finding out their own identity).

The way you personally interpret your experiences, your feelings, your life, memories, etc. all impact your alters and your system - the way your alters identify, the way it FEELS when alters front, the way your system presents, etc.

I grew up believing I was making things up and lying for seemingly no reason, for attention, because I liked being cool and special. Or that I was purposely acting out a fake, dramatic movie, just to add more drama.

In reality, I was experiencing alter switches and dissociation, but because I interpreted it in those ways, we now have a very difficult time trying to accept and believe that these are real feelings, real experiences, outside of my control, instead of me just saying things for attention and acting dramatic just because.

I also very much grew up feeling like "nothing ever sticks, so why bother taking anything seriously." Now, pretty much all of us still have this attitude, this feeling of "why bother coming up with a name, why bother taking (my feelings, etc.) seriously when it's just gonna go away and not come back."

I would feel confident in a decision or an identity or a name change and so on, only for me to change it the next day, or the next week, and so on.

This made things like questioning my gender identity and wanting to change my name extremely difficult and impossible because I could never be sure if it was going to actually STICK or just be a temporary, fleeting "phase." I became upset (and still become upset and distressed) every time everything turned out to just be a "phase" instead of a real, actual thing. I still have trouble with this. If I want to cut my hair or dye my hair or get new clothes, I will never be able to know for sure if I'll still like it in a different state. If I want a name change, I don't know if it'll be long-term or if I will change my mind the next day.

DID is more like this, and less like "I'm a totally different person with a distinctly different personality and a different name and I am not ("host")."

And if this is relatable to you, this post may very much help you figure out who your alters are.

A lot of things online that try to give suggestions and ideas for figuring out your alters in a way of "ask (your alters) these questions."

For me, I can't really do that, for a variety of different reasons - our dissociative barriers are too high, there's no inner world, and there's no kind of "distinct voices" that I "hear" speaking to me that are coming from a distinctly different "person." And since we as alters do not experience ourselves as distinct individuals where we just know who we are and know we are our own distinct individuals, it's less like asking my alters these questions, and more like asking MYSELF these questions. I want you keep that in mind going into this post.

When it comes to figuring out alters, what helps me is trying to keep track of patterns of changes in my behaviors, likes, dislikes, hobbies/interests, and more.

The following is a TEMPLATE of things you can ask yourself at different times, during different moods, modes, self-states - whatever you wanna call it.

I tried to make them as general as possible in order to hopefully make the questions apply to a general audience/a wide variety of people, instead of being too specific where they might not apply to most people.

You do not have to ask yourself all of these questions! If you don't know the answer to a question, and/or you don't want to answer a question, it can be important to write that down too! You can skip any questions or change them in any way you like.

If a question feels unhelpful to you, feel free to change it into something that might feel more helpful to you personally, and/or just remove it altogether.

Feel free to expand upon these questions! For example, if a question seems helpful to you, you might have further ideas to expand upon that question into further, more specific questions. I actually totally encourage other people to expand upon these questions and come up with more questions that could help others! Definitely share your thoughts in reblogs if you want.

I want to make it clear, first, that this post is NOT trying to make people OBSESS over this!!!! These questions are meant to help figure out alters, but don't obsess over it!

The purpose of these questions is to simply try and keep track of possible patterns of behaviors, etc., not to obsess over figuring out your alters, not to obsess over figuring out what alter you are, not to obsess over making sure your alters are "consistent all the time" or something. It doesn't matter about knowing "who" you are so much as it matters to let yourself exist as you are, at any given moment. It's to allow yourself to exist and see if there is a pattern of emotions, opinions, preferences, likes, dislikes, interests/hobbies, behaviors, and more that crop of every so often - this is what alters are for a lot of people. Like I said, it's less like "distinct, separate person" and more like a recurring pattern of the same/similar emotions/behaviors/traits/etc. that crop up every so often, oftentimes in response to things, such as topics that you may find triggering (for example: feeling like an angry wolf every time the topic of physical abuse comes up, or feeling like a scared child when you feel like someone said something upsetting), or even positive topics, such as feeling like you become a girl whenever the topic of fashion gets brought up, or feeling like you're 13 when the topic of a childhood beloved TV show comes up.

While "feeling like (xyz) in response to (xyz)" does not necessarily mean you have a CDD, this post is specifically about those experiences under the context of having a CDD. If you relate to anything I wrote in this post, it does not necessarily mean you have a CDD! Similarly, if you DON'T relate to anything in this post, it also doesn't mean you DON'T have a CDD! I am sharing this post with the assumption that the people reading it already know they have a CDD, and/or strongly suspect it.

Questions to ask myself for figuring out alters:

Month day, year. Time (or whatever way you want to write down the month/day/year/time).

What name(s) do I like?:

This doesn't have to be names of specific alters (by that I mean, you don't have to go through your list of alters with specific names to figure out if you like one of them). You can write a vague idea of what name/names you might like (such as "a name related to plants" or "a name that reminds me of the ocean"). You can write down multiple names. You can write down no name. You can write down that you're indifferent. Anything!

What pronouns do I like?:

Again, you can write down anything. If multiple sets of pronouns vibe, write that down! If nothing vibes, write it down! If you don't have any strong feelings/if you're indifferent, write that down too! If you don't know, write that down!

Are there any particular labels I feel drawn to/feel I identify with?:

It can be an LGBTQ+ label (bisexual, demiboy, aromantic, lesbian, etc.), or a label related to something else

What kind of color(s) am I drawn to?:

Darker colors? Pastel colors? Neon colors? Light colors? Etc.

What do I want to do? What would I do if I had the resources (time, money, 'skill', motivation, energy, etc.) (for example, maybe you wish you could play guitar, but you can’t play guitar, don’t have a guitar, etc.)?:

Similarly, is there anything that I might normally be interested in that I find myself no longer wanting to do?:

-- Listening to music: What songs? Am I singing along? What are the songs about? How do I feel about the music? Are there any songs I dislike? Any particular common genre/theme with the music I find myself liking right now?

-- Art: - What kind of art (Digital art? Doing makeup? Sculpting? Knitting? Painting? Woodworking? Photography? Any art counts.) - What is my art style like/what tools am I using? (If digital art, what program am I using? What brushes am I using? Etc. (Different alters might prefer to use different art programs and different art brushes!)) - What does the artwork depict? (Vent art? Are there themes of trauma? Dissociation? Fanart? Something else?)

-- Playing a game: - What game? - What am I doing in the game? Are there different game modes? If so, what mode am I playing? Is my character customizable, and if so, how does my character look? (Some alters might prefer to change the way the character looks to match how they might feel inside!) - Are there any games I don't currently care for?

-- Watching YouTube: - What is the topic of the video? (Is it about a hobby I like? A TV series? A video essay? Something else?)

-- Playing an instrument: - What instrument? - Am I trying to learn a specific song/songs? - Am I making my own music? Are there lyrics to go along with it? - If it’s a specific song (either writing your own, or trying to learn how to play a certain song on an instrument), what is it about? Any specific themes that stick out?

-- Writing: Poetry? Working on a book/short story? What is it about? What genre? (Romance? Non-fiction? Etc.) Is it fanfiction?

-- Reading: What am I reading? What is it about? What genre? (Romance? Non-fiction? Etc.) Is it fanfiction?

-- Something else…

What am I thinking about?

What am I talking about?

How am I feeling?

Did something trigger me to feel this certain way?

If something triggered me to feel a certain way, do I know the reason(s) why? (For example, if you encountered something that brings up trauma-related feelings, etc.)

You might describe your feelings in ways other than a simple “sad”, “mad”, or “happy.” You might be more specific, such as “I feel like white noise” or “I feel like a dog” or “I feel like an ocean.” This is completely valid and an important thing to keep note of as well. You can even write down that you feel tall, or you feel a different age, or you feel like a certain character.

There are many more questions that you could ask 'yourself' to get to know 'yourselves.' This list is not exhaustive, and like I said, you can simply you this template to bounce off ideas of what questions you, personally, would find most helpful!

I'd love to hear anybody's input, and I hope this post helps anyone. :] If not, feel free to share around anyway, if you want!

#my posts #actuallyDID #actuallyosdd #osdd system #did system

[l0v3tast3]

AHH Hello!!! I absolutely love your writing, it’s so good!!!!

I was wondering…

Y/n always wear a mask to conceal her identity, in hopes the 141 doesn’t find out that Makarov is her father!!

141 had captured Makarov for interrogation, and y/n is there. As the interrogation continues, they start to notice that y/n and Makarov know each other, by the subtle little informality they spoke to one another. And the truth starts to come out, little by little!!!!

✎ tysm i love you :(( i absolutely love this idea the angst potential is just *chef's kiss* i'm sorry this one took like over a month to make oops, also i tried to keep personal details abt the reader as vague as possible, pls let me know if there's something i can fix!!

✎ tags: female reader, military reader, major daddy issues, violence, mentions of blood, hurt/barely any comfort if at all, not proofread im too cool for that,

✎ word count: 2,704

the silence in the cold, gray interrogation room was so thick that you were choking on it. you knew you had just fucked up, badly.

you had done so well so far, too. you're fabricated identity had fooled everyone. the name you had chosen stuck, and no one ever noticed your old one threatening to jump from your mouth when you introduced yourself. you always kept the childhood memories and little anecdotes vague. you stuck to your rehearsed lines better than a world-famous actor. you did every single thing right.

and now, here he was, your own blood, fucking it all up for you, again.

technically, he had made you fuck it up for yourself. it was just how makarov worked; he was a spider weaving a web in the corner, watching, waiting. this man, your supposed father, didn't know anything real about you. he didn't know you as a father should know his daughter. but he knew which buttons to press.

he only knew what to say to you when it would allow him the opportunity of watching you fall a little deeper towards rock bottom.

you knew that the room had cameras covering every square inch, and the microphones ensured that you're accidental admission to your heritage was heard by your entire task force.

there was a red hot pit opening inside of you, caving your insides in like a black hole and threatening to consume your entire being. it was rage, you realized. something you only ever seemed to feel in the presence of one person.

you briefly considered killing him, right there and then. was this really the straw that broke your back? it truly was just another thing to add to the list. you had known he would do this.

no, you were angry at yourself.

on the other side of the door, the four men of the 141 task force were all stood still in shock. what the hell did you just say?

none of them wanted to believe it. they especially didn't want to admit that it made sense. you had done a fucking fantastic job of hiding it, they'll admit that, but even you couldn't hide everything.

price saw the way you tensed when you were passed laswell's photo of makarov in the bar, after you had all put an end to hassan's plan. he saw the way you dropped it and slid it to the next person quickly, as if touching the picture had burned your fingertips.

soap had asked you if you were okay more than once during the plane ride to russia. you were so restless, so different from your usual grounded self. you just said you were having some flying anxiety. he felt stupid now for writing it off so easily.

and kyle, the first one to trust you (and to even really talk to you), he had seen the anger sparking off of you while you shot your way through the tower to get to makarov. floor after floor, bullet after bullet, you had paved a path of blood through the mercenaries. he wondered if someone else had taken your mask and gear and was pretending to be you.

simon saw the fear in you when you all got to the last door. you had been so quick in your endeavor to get here, but he saw you hesitate to follow them in. he saw how you never took your wide eyes off of him, and how you stayed a few steps back, moving far out of the way when price began to escort him out in handcuffs.

and when they had asked you to go into the interrogation room, they all saw how you stopped breathing, and the sweat collecting on what little skin they could see above your mask. you had stuttered when you quietly agreed.

when you stepped into the room, makarov took one look at your eyes, and you knew he recognized you. no, he recognized the hatred. and it made him smile.

now, sitting in the cold metal chair, you realized that it wasn't just one mistake, but a series of them; you had let him unravel you, again. you understood, finally, that he saw you as he did everyone else. he saw you as someone that held him back.

part of you had always known, ever since you were young, still single-digits, and he would only visit you once every few months, if that. you had elected to ignore it. now you couldn't.

you couldn't move. behind you was the door that would lead you to the consequences of your actions. in front of you was the reason for those actions.

this is what you had wanted, wasn't it? it was like something snapped back into place, and you suddenly remembered that everything you had done up until now, every time you put the mask on before leaving your room, every lie you had told and every person you had killed had been to get you here. in front of your father. you remembered that the image of him with a bullet between his eyes was what kept you going.

if you killed him, would it finally absolve you? the gun on your hip felt twenty pounds heavier now. your fingers, folded together in your lap with a white-knuckle grip, felt like lead. would this sin make all the other wrongs right?

a tiny voice was telling you to just walk away, let the team's wrath come down on you and let them deal with makarov, but you had already thrown the table between you towards the wall, he was already on the ground with your hands wrapped around his throat.

you were yelling, no, screaming at him. all the compacted feelings from years and years of being as quiet as possible came up like vomit, spewing out in a mess that could never be cleaned up.

there were more than just makarov's hands on you, pushing and pulling you away from him and dragging you out of the room, kicking and screeching to let you just finally kill him, while two other blurry shapes hauled him back into his own chair.

the heavy metal door shut behind the two people practically carrying you, and they finally let you go. you stumbled a few steps away, whirling around for the next target of your fury.

your captain and lieutenant were standing in front of you, both tensed, waiting for you to do something. you couldn't exactly make out their faces- were you crying?

"what in the bloody hell just happened in there?" price snarled. it was the voice he used when he was face to face with his enemy.

"let me back in there." it was a demand. you needed to kill him.

"that's not gonna happen," simon barked. john and kyle had come out from the interrogation room to stand behind the other two men. "you need to explain, now."

they all stared at you with varying looks of anger and hurt. it wasn't the first time you'd ever had it directed at you, but this was somehow worse than all the others.

every cell in your body was shrieking at you to just run for the door, to somehow get through all four of these men, your teammates, your friends, and kill makarov. but their glares glued you to your spot.

"please-" your voice was trembling, years of grief and agony dripping from every word, "please, just let me kill him. you have to let me kill him." you spoke slowly and quietly, focusing on just trying to get the words out. you took a shaky breath and focused your eyes on a muddy bootprint on the floor. you didn't want to see the looks on their faces.

"you don't understand, you just- just let me back in there, please, i'll get whatever you need out of him, but he needs to die!" your voice was getting louder, and you briefly wondered if your father could hear you. "his men are probably already on their way here. don't you get it? if i don't kill him now, he will get out."

the men in front of you were more shocked now than anything at the change in your demeanor. you had been coined the "second ghost" throughout the units, partly for the mask, but also because of your detachment. you were kind, but you always held logic above emotion.

in front of them now was nothing short of a nervous wreck.

despite not moving, you were frantic. you were wringing your hands together, pressed tight against your stomach. your eyes darted from side to side, person to person, between them and the door to makarov.

price took a step forward and you took a step back. he was slow, bringing his hand up as if he were approaching a wild animal. if he was still angry, he was hiding it now.

"come on, kid, let's just get out of 'ere, eh? go somewhere away from him," he said lowly. the other three men watched tensely, not moving, but their hands still close to their guns. just in case.

"no, no- just let me- price, you need to let me back in there!" you were a broken record, you knew it, but there was nothing else to say, nothing else you could think about. this was what you had been waiting for, you were right where you had wanted to be for the past- how many years now? how long has he tormented you for now?

you could feel your father's presence in the next room like bugs crawling across your body. it made your head feel fuzzy and your hands shake. was it from rage or fear? you couldn't tell, so you chose the rage.

it was like bile stuck in your throat, all the pain makarov had caused you finally being unearthed. you wanted to throw it all up and spit it out onto him, lay your organs and hatred alike out on the table in front of him so he could see the decay. you wanted him to rot from the inside out like you had.

your eyes glanced at the door one last time before focusing on price. he was watching you, just a couple of steps in front of you now.

"let me back in there, john." it was a whisper, but still the steadiest thing you had spoken since they had dragged you out.

"no." he said your name quietly, and you heard it as the plea it was, but you're head decided it was done listening.

your body threw itself at him, swinging underneath his arms and onto his back to try and get him on the ground. the room exploded into yelling, and multiple pairs of hands were on you in an instant, hauling you off of price and forcing you face-down onto the ground with your hands behind your back.

cold metal latching around your wrists didn't stop your screaming and kicking, lashing out at the air around you. it didn't work well, because you were being hauled back to your feet and pushed into a separate interrogation room.

whoever was carrying you didn't bother with trying to attach your handcuffs to the table, basically throwing you in and slamming the door shut before you could get back on your feet.

outside the cell, the four men stood in silent shock. what was there to say, where would they even start? would they really be able to hear each other over your muffled screams to let you out?

you didn't know how long you had been in there once the door finally opens again, but you had stopped screaming and struggling to get out of the room. you had sat down at the table, your hands folded in front of you on the cold surface. you stared down at the blood beading and smearing around the handcuffs.

kyle squeezed in through the tiny amount he'd let the door open before he shut it quickly, keeping his eyes on you. you didn't look up, your red eyes staying fixed on one point even as he slowly moved closer. he followed them to see the red rings underneath the steel, and a pang of guilt squeezed his heart tight.

he sat down across from you, folding his hands in front of him on the table, mirroring you. you still hadn't looked up at him, or done anything to acknowledge his presence; you hadn't even moved.

"are you alright?" kyle implored. he kept his voice soft, bending over a little to try to look you in the eye.

it took you a few moments to respond; he almost started to think you didn't hear him before you opened your mouth slowly.

"is he dead?" you croaked.

kyle let out an audible sigh while he leaned back in his seat, bringing his hands up to drag them down his face.

"no, we still need him. you know that."

you didn't say anything after that.

after sitting in silence for two full minutes, he spoke up. "you realize not telling us about this makes you look really bad, yeah?"

"you don't trust me anymore?" you whispered it, like you didn't want him to hear and answer. you knew what he would say.

"you aren't making it very easy."

kyle wanted to trust you still. part of him was angry and confused as to why you had kept something like this from them. the other part, the bigger part of him, knew that you were on still on the same side of it all. and he knew the other three men felt the same, but they couldn't just dismiss this.

"we can work this out, ya' know. you just have to be honest with us," he added after you once again stayed silent.

"be honest?" you echoed. you finally looked up at him. "about what? you heard me. makarov is my father. i want him dead. that's all there is to say."

kyle took his turn to not speak, weighing your words, figuring out where to go from there.

"why didn't you tell us?" he finally asked.

you looked back down at your wrists. "if i had told you i was makarov's daughter before i joined the team, then all i would have ever been is makarov's daughter." you paused to take a deep, shaky breath. it was uncomfortable with your mask still on, wet with tears, but you refused to take it off, to give away the last piece of your identity that was still yours at the moment.

"it's something we should have known," he contended quickly. "we could have used the information you have-"

you cut him off, your eyes snapping back up to glare daggers at him. "you think i know anything more than you?" you barked. something between a laugh and a sob escaped your throat before you could continue. "i was eight years old the last time i saw him in person. i was raised by live-in nannies. he only visited, what, maybe twice a year? and i don't know why he even bothered, either."

your hands were clenched into tight fists, and the same sting that circled your wrists was appearing in your palms. you kept going though; you didn't know if you could stop now.

"every time i get somewhere, every time i start making a life for myself again, he fucks it all up. never showed his damn face, but it was him, it was always-" you finally cut yourself off, not wanting to drag more memories out from the dark.

"makarov may be my father, but i am not his daughter. i swear, kyle, i fucking swear it." you were pleading with him to believe you now. you needed them to understand.

you could see it in the way his eyebrows creased that he wanted to take your words as the truth. but he didn't say anything (what could he have said?).

the door opened once again, and price half-entered the room to wave kyle back out. he avoided your gaze, something he'd never done before. then you were alone again.

#call of duty #modern warfare 2 #cod mwii #task force 141 #simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #john soap mactavish #john mactavish #soap #john mactavish x reader #soap x reader #kyle gaz garrick #gaz #kyle garrick x reader #gaz x reader #john price #john price x reader #female reader #platonic #angst #fanfiction #— lilly writes! ♡

[yuurei20]

Hello!

Bit of a dumb question

I wanted to know if it was ever mentioned anywhere that Jade ate his siblings.. My sister keeps saying he said that he ate everyone but kept Floyd bc he looked like he'd be funny or something. I've never seen this mentioned before and I wanna prove her wrong

Hello hello!! ^^ Thank you for this question!

“Jade ate his siblings” is one of many unproven fan theories, based on a number of comments in the game that might be hints about something that may or may not have happened!

The theory goes that Jade and Floyd hatched from eggs (moray eels can lay up to 10,000 eggs at once in real life, though in-game is unspecified) at approximately the same time.

Jade then selected Floyd as the one sibling he would spare, and ate the rest. (The reason why he chose Floyd is technically not specified.)

This is based on many things that can be found throughout the game, such as this cryptic comment from Jade: “I’m glad I chose you as my partner when we were but little elvers.”

Floyd responds, “Not sure what that smile’s for, but I’m glad we survived together, too,” which may insinuate that if something did happen, Floyd might not know what it was.

Jade also says, “there are five in my family at present.” One interpretation of this line is that their family used to be larger, and might get even smaller in the future, but five is where they are at now. 

The more optimistic side of EN fandom will sometimes theorize that maybe their mother is pregnant and there will actually be a new addition to the family soon rather than a loss, but we have been given a surprising amount of information about how common it is for people to go missing in the Coral Sea, with otherwise zero hints that they will soon be getting between 1 and 10,000 new siblings.

The evidence used for the “hatched from eggs” part of the theory comes from Floyd insisting that neither he nor Jade are any older or younger than the other.

This might seem vague in English, where which twin of two was technically born first might not come up very often, but in Japanese one twin being born first would mean that one of them would refer to the other as something like “nii-san,” like Ortho does with Idia, or "aniki," as Ace does with his brother and Leona does with Falena.

(For a real-world example I recommend referring to the Twitter account of Jamil’s voice actor, Futaba Kaname. He has (弟) in his username for “little brother,” while his identical twin Yuu has (兄) in his username for “older brother.”)

But neither Jade nor Floyd refer to one another as “nii-san," "aniki" or anything but their first names.

While “bro” or “brother” will sometimes be added to their dialogue on EN neither twin has ever actually called the other “brother” in their original dialogue, because the Japanese language makes you specify older or younger (an age-neutral word for “brother” doesn’t really exist) and, as Floyd says outright in the game, neither he nor Jade are any older or younger than the other.

This makes sense if they both hatched from eggs at approximately the same time, rather than being born like mammals.

Another point that is often referenced in the “Jade and Floyd: Dead Siblings” topic is how, on the subject of ghosts they have seen, both twins mention seeing people on Halloween that looked strikingly like each other, only to realize that they weren’t. 

Floyd: “I once thought I saw Jade in three different places at once.”

The theory goes that they saw the ghosts of their dead siblings.

This may or may not be considered evidence of how the twins might have had other siblings at one point and something happened to them, but even if so, it could have just been a Finding-Nemo style incident with a barracuda or something similar.

So why do people point to Jade as the perpetrator?

(Maybe irrelevant, but Rook’s nickname for Jade in the original game is, “Monsieur Premeditated Crime.”)

Jade is a heavy eater, on par with Sebek (another thing they have in common is they have both threatened to eat Grim), saying that people are often surprised by how much he eats.

Jade says this is because his “fuel efficiency is lacking” (low blood pressure?).

Floyd is aware of this and seems to go to extra lengths to make sure Jade eats properly, encouraging him to relax and fetching food for him during Halloween.

The original meaning of Jade’s unique magic is, “the tooth that takes out a bite,” so this is definitely a theme with him.

And his official, disliked food? Eel.

To the original question: no, there is not a definitive line in the game that states “Jade ate his siblings” that we can point to as proof that it actually, canonically happened.

But we do have many cryptic lines that might possibly be insinuating that a infamously hungry Jade chose Floyd as the one sibling he would spare and ate the rest, Floyd may not know it happened, and Jade might be actively choosing not to tell him 🐬

#twisted wonderland #Floyd Leech #Jade Leech #twstask

[mvltisstuff]

Hello! ✨ 🤗 🤗 Thank you for making the request. I loved it. I cried and screamed with emotion 🥺 ✨ thank you, thank you, thank you so much. ✨

And well I had an idea 🙈 you could make an Evan Buckley petition with the song Skyfall by Adele.

Reader is an actress, an actress recognized by Hollywood. Who she is linked to different actors of the moment. Which makes Buck uncomfortable and nervous. Because he believes that their relationship could affect Reader's career. However, he is also afraid to see the harassment reader receives from the press and photographers. So one day, reader unhesitatingly takes him to an award ceremony for one of his films. They both pose for the cameras. Buck wraps her in his arms and doesn't let go of her hand at any moment. He only lets go when she receives the award and the camera points at them both.

And the next day they both learn that they received the name "Hollywood's most powerful couple".

Chim, Maddie and Eddie jokingly name Buck "Hollywood's boyfriend". (well it's just a thought) 🙈

😅 Again, thanks for agreeing to BTR's request. 🤭 🤗✨

skyfall - e.b

summary: request

evan buckley x reader

gif from @catdadeddie

buck sat in his apartment, watching his girlfriend on the tv and the trailer for her new film. if she couldn’t be here with him, he may as well just watch her. it’s not the same, it never would be but it would have to do. he missed her in his arms and just naturally being next to him without a choreographed move or line.

y/n knew buck was at home doing all of this. he’s the only thing on her mind at red carpets. instead, she was miles away at a panel for her movie. she loved her job. she amount of opportunities and gateways to success put her on top. every movie has piled up and showcased her talent, and she loves it.

every job has its downfalls, though. the complete lack of privacy is overwhelming and you can never underestimate the scrutiny of the media. all sections of her life were on display at all times. she only wanted to do what she loved on the movie sets, not have every move dictated by the press.

so, she decided that she and buck would remain low profile. there was no lie that she was in a relationship. y/n didn’t need to hide that she loves someone, but she’s horrified of fucked up people getting involved in bucks life. buck has identical fears. if he and y/n came out with their relationship, people could ruin his life because they’re angry. y/n’s seen with a-list actors every day that people would kill to see a relationship. some of it isn’t just for himself, it’s for her. he first-hand views the harassment and cruelty she gets. he reads it on social media and in the news, reporting every last drop of it. it surfaces a new insecurity in buck, feeling less than the rest because he’s just a regular man.

y/n knows he’s more than that, so that’s enough for him. she honors him more than anyone and his personality and work ethic is admired. it doesn’t matter how much money he makes or what he wants to do with his life because y/n wants every last moment with him.

when the biggest award ceremony of y/n’s career comes up, she thinks it’s the perfect opportunity to bring buck into the light. she wants to brag about him being hers, and show off all of his riveting qualities. she knows there’s not a part of him that doesn’t deserve to be in the spotlight.

she pulled up the the firehouse one time in full disguise. she ripped it all off before running into bucks arms as he lifted her off the ground. he missed her beautiful face that was across the country. his coworkers watched in entertainment as he just beamed whenever he looked at her.

“i missed you so much,” y/n smiles.

“i know, i’m just happy you’re home now,” buck says, keeping his hands placed on her forearms. it’s like the entire world disappeared behind them. every person, every noise, every sense just vanished when looking into the others breathtaking eyes.

“i, uh, need to ask you something,” y/n starts, giving buck a small amount of anxiety, but he knows they can deal with whatever it is together.

“yeah,” he says quickly. “of course, come in here.”

he leads her into a private room and shuts the door. buck moves back over to grab her hand, entwining their fingers together and giving her the support to continue. “what’s going on, baby?”

“the oscars are coming up,” she spits out quickly, and buck doesn’t know if he should be relieved or not. “and i want you to come with me. i know you might think it’s a bad idea, but i’m sick of hiding from everyone and they have nothing against you and me.”

buck laughs softly, continuing to graze her hand with his fingers. she looks up at him with an expression of anticipation and maybe even a little timidity. when she sees the smile creep up on his face, she can’t tell whether it’s an excited one or a mocking one.

“you know i would never miss that for the world, right?” he tells her and she releases a breath, dropping her shoulders and the corners of her mouth pull up. “i don’t care if you’re nominated and win or lose, i’ll be there.”

the days went painfully slow for the rest of bucks team as floods of questions and concerns came their way. he was stalled on what he should wear, what time he should get there, should he get his hair done now or sooner to the date. everyone was ready to put in earplugs at his questions, but at the end of the day, they were more happy for him. they were excited to see him on their tv screens with his perfect match on his arm. they knew buck was made for y/n from the day he met her.

when buck was picked up in the pitch black limo with shaded windows, he felt like the most luxurious man in the world. he was bouncing his leg up and down in the seat, y/n having to put her hand on it to calm him down.

“alright, so,” he begins. “what do i do? do i just stand there or do i pose or-“

“buck!” y/n giggles. “relax, it’s all gonna be ok. you’ll know what to do, trust me. i’ll be there the whole time.”

“i’ve never been on a red carpet before,” he exhales, starting to see the crowd of people outside. “can i hold your hand in there?”

y/n looks at him with gentle eyes, putting out her hand and squeezing his. as she steps out of the car with the help of the guards, buck slips his hand out. when he gets out of the car, he adjusts the buttons on his tux and connects with y/n again.

the walk down the carpet was casual, but also had buck internally panicking. he had never been in a room with so many celebrities at one time. seeing all the hot actors and actresses of the moment was so overwhelming, and whenever they shook his hand he felt like floating. he almost cried when andrew garfield looked in his direction. he was completely mesmerized by the way y/n interacted gracefully with everyone. he knew he had the right girl.

the air became thicker in the venue until the best actress category was called up. each of the names swiped through the massive screens and the names started to echo off the walls. the two actors at the front had the envelope, ready to reveal the name of the winning actress. buck felt the shaking of y/n’s hand, trying to ease her worries of losing, or even winning. some part of him knew that she won even before they called her name.

when he hears the thrilling, “y/n y/l/n in f/n!” on the mics, he jumps out of his seat. he looks at his girl with his jaw to the floor, tears already forming in his eyes. she’s still processing that her name was even called, but just looking at buck brings her back down.

“oh my god,” she whispers once he pulls her in.

“you did it! you fucking did it!” he leans away, cradling her face and giving her a kiss before letting her go up. she almost wishes she could drag him up too, or stay down on the floor with him. “go get ‘em,” he winks.

y/n’s speech ran through her lips quickly, being unprepared as she told the world what she thought. “holy shit,” she breathlessly chuckles. “thank you to everyone who helped me get here today, my family, my parents, my coworkers on this movie. i’m so thankful i even get to be on this stage. the director, greta, you are absolute magic. this is one of the best projects i’ve ever been involved in and- oh my god, why is this timed? but anyway, also evan, i love you more than words and this is all for you!” she blew him a kiss before running of stage, picking up the layers of her dress to show off her new shiny award to him.

flashes of bucks face and y/n’s director came over the screen, making y/n and him the hot topic for the night. fans all over social media were buzzing with excitement, finally getting to see the man who painted the bliss onto y/n. news headlines and tweets were filled with, “y/n y/l/n and her new boyfriend - hollywoods new power couple?”

every time she saw one, y/n smiles brightly and sent it to buck who showed it off to his friends. now, when he sat around the table with y/n or just lay with her in bed, he knew she was more than just some girl. she was the one for him no matter what, and he didn’t need the internets approval to realize that. despite the few hateful people, buck chooses to ignore them completely. they’re not the one laying next to y/n right now.

he faces the teasing from his sister and his best friends about being the new hollywood boyfriend, but as long as he’s y/n’s, that’s all he needs.

#911 #911onfox #bobby nash #eddie diaz #evan buckley #evan buckley fanfic #athena grant #henrietta wilson #evan buckley x reader #evan buck buckley x reader #maddie buckley #chimney han #chimney 911 #may grant #buck x reader #evan buckley angst #evan buckley fluff #evan buckley x y/n #evan buckley fanfiction #evan buck buckely #evan buckley one shot #evan buckley x you #evan buckley fic #eddie diaz fic #buddie fic #buddie #911 oneshot #911 fanfic #911 fic #911 fox

[egot1stical]

ramblings about how winter king is not a simon but an ice king from my insta story. no idea how much sense this makes

Not to post a serious analysis of mr oncest bait, but it's kind of... *wrong* to say the winter king is Simon? I think it's more accurate to call him an ice king who THINKS he's Simon. His whole bit is that he removed the madness of the crown from himself, but the ice king isn't just "simon but crazy". The ice king is the result of the wish crown's curse over the span of 1000 years breaking down Simon's psyche and replacing and warping and mixing it with Evergreen (specifically Gunther's warped view of him) and adding more madness and sadness till he basically experiences ego death. We know our Simon (at least at this point) considers he and ice king separate entities. They have pretty different personalities

Winter king is more like ice king than Simon:

* Physical stuff. Obviously. He's taller, has longer straighter hair, and is fucking bright blue+ still has evergreen's nose LOL. But also smaller stuff like the fact he dresses different and has different shaped glasses

* WAYYYYY more outgoing. Even before All That, Simon doesn't seem like the most outgoing guy. He would go on expeditions yes but could you imagine that guy throwing a party? No.

* Way more selfish and self absorbed. Which is in line with ice king, but now he's conventionally attractive so everyone else agrees. This is opposed to the fact Simon want to khs

* No consideration for PB. This is an interesting one, because it's the first departure from both our Simon and IK. Obviously ice king was terrible to PB LOL but like....he liked her.....because she was like betty..... And now Simon really respects her (and feels terrible about it.) while WK straight up does NOT care about her. Different from both, but closer to IK because he is a dickweed

* Deals with emotions differently than Simon. Seems to have completely blocked Betty out (assuming they were still close in this universe). And marceline bro... whatever happened there, ice marcy is the KID version of her. He has her bass, so she at least grew up and they've interacted. Maybe she saw him get "fixed" and was like.
Wow! You're not Simon!

* The name. Fionna's dream has the "ice prince", and that's what she calls Simon upon meeting him for the first time. If this was a True Simon, it would make more sense for him to be called the ice prince in universe, no? But he keeps the King title.

Simon spends a lot of the episode jealous of the winter king because he seems so well adiusted while he has the crown.

Simon has no magic, no nothing, but at least he has his brain back. The crown is very much directly linked to his loss of identity and to see WK be CONSCIOUS and LIKED and seemingly HIMSELF with magic is something he desperately wants especially at a time like this when his mental health is down the shitter while everyone talks about how much more fun he was when he was legitimately insane

The difference is that Simon spent every *conscious* moment FIGHTING the crown. Winter king is NOT fighting that shit. He says that he "conquered" it, but no you did not buddy. He is still dependent on it. He cannot survive without it. He just gave up. He's accepted that he's become one with it instead. So did ice king. Except without the madness of ice king, he can be a semi functional human being. He still gets the high of the crown and all its power, but this doesn't change the fact it Changed Who He IS.

Doesn't fucking matter rn becauee Simon hates himself and wants to be someone else but you get the idea. Winter king is just a version of Ice King LARPing as Simon. He can just do this way more convincingly even to himself because he can actually think now

Like “Betty? OH HAHA THE DEAD ONE” is an ice king ass reply and I swear to god at least part of the reason they didn’t get Tom Kenny to do his voice is because it would just be ice king’s voice again

also in regards to why candy queen is like that-Okay one, this goes with the name thing. Princess bubblegum. Normal. Candy Queen. Insane. Same as winter/ice king and ice prince. We cool?

Anyway

The Madness manifested in Simon/ice king in regards to Betty as romantic obsession. With the madness gone, CQ is the one feeling the brunt of these feelings- which would explain why Winter king doesn't remember feeling so Strongly about betty. Because Simon's feelings about her are naturally just fucking insane, it's so intertwined with the Madness that when that part is removed, so are any feelings towards Betty.

CQ is probably also obsessed with WK and "being together" because the sane part of her mind recognises that this madness is HIS and this is her fucked uo way of trying to like. Give it back.

That’s all I got

#winter king #simon petrikov #ice king #fionna and cake

[edenfenixblogs]

Some Excerpts As I Read

Reader Note: I have read The Color Purple and would never dismiss the importance of Alice Walker’s work. However, let’s not pretend that she’s too sacred to critique and treat like any other artist who does something racist. Her work to combat anti-black racism and highlight Black American struggles do not permit or excuse when she engages in other forms of bigotry.

I have never seen someone make a public stink about the extraordinarily racist poem, of which the section quoted above is only the tip of that particular racist iceberg.

In fact, I did not even know that Walker had written this horrible “poem” (if you can call an antisemitic diatribe with weird spacing a poem) —despite being very active in leftist spaces for my whole adult AND adolescent life and being an avid reader or both novels and poetry until 2023.

It was brought to my attention when she caught flak for being a TERF, as an incidental aside to prove that she was actually bigoted in several ways. A trait she ALSO shares with JK Rowling.

Look at these headlines. This is what comes up when I search “Alice walker transphobia.” They clearly label her as a TERF. But they do not make the same claim about her identity as BEING an antisemite. It is removed from her. Antisemitism is clearly not the focus here, which is fine. It is older news. These stories are reporting on her more recent bigotry. Cool.

These are the first results that come up when I search “alice walker antisemitism.”

The first result is from The Times of Israel, which makes sense, because that’s a place where a lot of Jews live and a lot of Jews will be upset by the things she wrote. But it also doesn’t make sense, because Walker is American. Why is the FIRST result about her antisemitism from an international newspaper that happens to have a large Jewish readership?

Why is the NYT headline about how Walker feels about her own bigotry, instead of how her Jewish readers feel?

The New York Magazine Article looked interesting so I clicked it. It was interesting. You should read it. It is an Op-Ed written by a Black, Jewish woman named Nylah Burton. Kudos to her. It was important. And non-Jews need to read it. It was written in 2018.

The Atlantic is next and primarily takes on the work of critiquing a different article in the New Yorker which also minimized the importance and harmful impact of antisemitism.

And then things get interesting. Still, on the first page of results, is this juxtaposition.

Among the many striking things here is the fact that the Jerusalem Post is writing from 2023. Al Jazeera is writing from 2019.

If you’ve read any of the above links or text you will note that yes, Alice Walker’s “offense” is indeed antisemitism. It’s not really debatable. She’s done many, many horrifically antisemitic things.

And yet, Al Jazeera jumps in, unprompted, to defend a known antisemite? Why?????? Oh, because she supports Palestine.

Well…perhaps…just maybe…supporters of Palestine shouldn’t want to leap to the defense of antisemites who spout blatant misinformation about the I/P conflict, demonize the Jews they know personally, and trade in antisemitic conspiracy theories.

Unless of course…they don’t care that they are pushing pro-Palestine Jews out of leftist spaces in the first place.

When did it become acceptable for leftists to excuse someone’s bigotry as long as the bigot agrees with you on other stuff?

#Jews Don’t Count #David Baddiel #the Jewish experience #jumblr #antiracism #antisemitism #leftist antisemitism #Alice Walker #anti racism #I dare a goy to reblog this challenge

[bimbosanddolls]

State of the Bimbo - New Year, Same Kiki

Hi Barbie!

A new year is approaching and, after the emotional roller coaster that was 2023, I’m deciding to dedicate 2024 to being the best version of myself because honestly… I deserve it. 

With that in mind, there is something that I've been debating telling you all for a long time. I’ve hinted at it in asks and such for a while, I’ve talked openly about it with people in DMs, but I’ve never actually said it outright on my blog.

I am a trans woman. I have always been a trans woman. I am also a bimbo. This isn’t just a kink for me; it’s a big part of who I am and who I'm becoming more and more every day.

So why did I wait so long to say something? Time for a quick history lesson and some Kiki lore. When I started this blog like 10 years ago, there was a super popular bimbo creator named Summer (also known as @bimboisbetter) and there was a huge controversy because Summer came out as a catfish. She was a man pretending to be Summer. Looking back, part of me wonders if Summer wasn't also trans… but it really isn’t my place to speak on that. (Also, that being said… Summer, if you’re still out there somewhere and reading this, I hope you’re doing well) Anyway, people were super upset because Summer deceived them. I, despite early accusations of being a woman, claimed I was a guy because I was masc-presenting and not even sure if I was trans or not at this point. I also RPed frequently as a tgtf (transgender transformation) that would get bimbofied. And playing a girl just… made sense. In retrospect, it felt more authentic to who I actually would realize I am way more than the masc person I believed I was “supposed” to be. But all I knew for sure that I didn’t want to face the same criticism Summer did, even if our situations were super different. Flash-forward a few years, a couple hiatuses, and a whole lot of soul-searching later, I’m now very comfortable with my identity. I know who I am. I know I was always her, even when I was making awful jokes like this. I’ve always been KIki; it’s just in the last few years that I’ve truly let her emerge from her cocoon. And I can’t wait to keep growing and becoming the best bimbo barbie I can be!

xoxo,

Kiki 💖🏳️‍⚧️

#Kiki says #my bimbofication #trans bimbo

[superectojazzmage]

Watched the Nimona movie last night. Review I guess. It was pretty damn good. Definitely would’ve probably been regarded as Blue Sky’s magnum opus if they’d gotten to release it instead of being fucked over by Disney. Very cute, very funny, very powerful in the right moments. A thing that stuck out to me is that it’s really only an adaptation in the loosest sense of the word. It takes the core premise and beats of the comic but is functionally an entirely different kind of story that does its own thing. And given that ND Stevenson was heavily involved in production, I suspect that was intentional.

The comic was much darker and more downbeat in a lot of ways, plus it was significantly longer and thus could afford to be slower paced. But more than that, it was a lot more meaty in terms of themes and scope. The whole “LGBT allegory” element was there, but it wasn’t the sole focus, the comic was a story about a lot of different things; not just an LGBT experience, but also discussion of fantasy genre tropes and clichés, criticism of other fantasy deconstructions, character study, exploring what it means to be a hero or villain, critique of the glorification of crime and cruelty in underprivileged communities, corruption in governments, peer pressure, the senseless and self-perpetuating nature of violence, the worthlessness of revenge, etc.. And above all that, it was a story about trauma and people’s responses to it, with Ballister representing people who actually deal with their problems and move on while Nimona represented people who let their mistakes and suffering and grief consume their identity, or worse, use it as an excuse to indulge their worst qualities and take out their feelings on everyone around them.

The movie, by contrast, has a much more narrow focus. The LGBT allegory is front and center and basically the entire focal point of the movie, aside from a spattering of themes about the danger of zealotry and rigid fundamentalist thinking. This gives the movie a much tighter narrative and pacing that suits its inherently shorter runtime, but also leads to a ton of changes to the story either to convey a different kind of message or just work better in a different medium. Most obviously in how Nimona is vastly more sympathetic in the movie and essentially really is the silly gremlin the comic fakes you out into thinking she is, scrapping the comic’s twist that she was a genuinely bad person who was completely serious about wanting to be a villain, caring nothing for the lives she destroyed with her behavior and idolizing Ballister because she thought he was the same as her and would thus tell her what she wanted to hear (i.e., that she was justified in killing and destroying everything around her in the name of getting even). And in the changes to the Institution’s history and nature. And all sorts of other things.

All in all, I feel if you go in comparing and contrasting the movie and the comic, arguing which changes are for the better or worse, you’ll be setting yourself up for disappointment in either direction because they’re two different beasts and it’s like comparing apples and oranges. So keep that in mind if you’re a fan of the comic watching the movie or a fan of the movie wanting to look into the comic. I think ultimately I still like the comic better, but that’s purely my personal opinion and there’s plenty that I think the movie did better.

Some other observations:

Riz Ahmed my beloved, thank you Mr. Stevenson for this perfect casting. Literally perfect for Ballister.

Acting in general was very good. You can tell this was a passion project for a lot of people, not just Stevenson.

Only two changes that are objectively bad are Ambrosius losing his awesome Van Halen hairdo and changing Ballister’s last name — Blackheart is a way cooler name than Boldheart and it’s a pointless change, one that I’d argue even hurts the narrative since it makes it too obvious that Ballister isn’t actually a bad guy.

The animation is really great with fantastic expressions, stylish movement, and wonderful aesthetics that perfectly suit the story, but there’s times where it feels a little off. But there are parts where it looks less “movie” and more “cheap mid-2000s CGI-and-Flash cartoon show from France”.

The humor can be a hit and miss, in a “going through the motions of a Hollywood animated comedy for kids” way. The movie excels when it’s either imitating the comic’s Old Internet sense of humor or going hard on the drama, but there’s bits where it seemingly slams on the brakes to do Illumination-esque Twitter humor and those bits definitely throw off the vibe.

Having an actual straight up attempted suicide in the climax was shockingly ballsy. I genuinely can’t believe they went there, but I’m glad they did because the film wouldn’t have felt nearly as raw without it.

I don’t know how they managed to make the Director even more of an asshole than in the comics, but they did.

#nimona #nimona film #nd stevenson #ballister boldheart #ballister blackheart #ambrosius goldenloin #movie review #animated movies #movies #films #comic books #dc comics #webcomic #web comics #indie comics #netflix #blue sky studios #lgbt film #lgbt fantasy

[cherry-pop-elf]

How the Weasley siblings would react to you getting a tattoo inspired by them

Don’t forget, I take writing commissions! Don’t be shy!

William: Bill

He was shocked you even took his advice, but happy regardless. He was still trying to convince his family to get protection ruins tattooed on. They genuinely work. He’s alive after all, is he not? He’s so happy you got it. He is able to sleep FAR more soundly now, knowing you’ll be safer. He also, now, had more ammunition to convince the rest of his family to get one as well. There was also the fact it warms his heart to you it was him that inspired you to get it. That what he said really did matter, to you. You listened, and that meant the world to him. That alone was what made him feel flushed. Ah, his Habibi.

Charlie

He was waiting for the day. He’s drenched in his own. Often teasing that anyone who gets to close to him leave with one, like some kind of pox’s. Yeah, Molly never found it funny. But it seemed you did, since you got your own dragon around your arm. He can’t deny it. He’s a sucker for matching tattoos. There is something so beautiful about it, after all. So, it tugs on his heart strings. Knowing that the two of you matched. That a part of him was with you, constantly. But you never heard that from anyone. Shhhhh

Percy

He shocked, and rather curious. Now why would you go and do such a thing like that? He always found them rather unprofessional looking. Often sighting his own siblings as such examples. Like he was somehow better than them, because he had none. Yeah. You are totally cooler than a Curse Breaker, or Dragonologist, buddy. Keep dreaming. However, knowing why you got it has changed his views. Just a little. To see that you had a simple word on your wrist. His name. Simple, modest, sweet, and to the point. He still hated tattoos, but maybe he just hated them on certain people.

Fred

Loves it. He’s over the moon. He found it so sweet, and teases you about it constantly. How you are his, by law. Of course that’s not true, but you kinda knew what you signed up for. That ever teasing nightmare, the second that purple ink touched your skin. But, you got your revenge. Once you saw something familiar zipping across his arm one day. Oh the war you two had from it all.

George

He’s flustered, and flattered. He found it so sweet, and pretty adorable. That he had you inspired so much. He loves touching it, whenever you two are together. Tracing his fingers over the orange skin. He just found it so sweet. He had to return the favor, and now you two match. As him a blushing fool whenever you kiss his. Expect yours to be smooched in return. He just couldn’t get enough of it. He felt so special, and kinda different. He had something Fred didn’t, and now it was a nice reminder that they weren’t as identical as the world said. He had you.

Ron

He was wondering why you were so giggly, for a while. It all made sense, when he saw it. You were waiting for him to finally notice that damn flying car. It was one time-! Course now it’s the damn guardian of the woods, and makes sure kids get returned home safely. That was kinda nice. Deep down, he does like it. Loves that you loved his story so much, you wanted to remember it forever. Made him feel special. He deserves it, and you made sure that Ron knew he was special. Just like everyone else.

Ginny

Honestly, she kinda beat you to the punch. You both couldn’t stop laughing, when you saw each other’s tattoos. Seeing that quidditch broom flying was making her laugh that Weasley laugh. There was a reason you two dated, after all. Didn’t even have to say a word, and you two found a way to have matching ink. Didn’t even try, and it had you both in stitches. The hugs didn’t stop, as you two admire your brand new works of art.

#harry potter magic awakened #harry potter #hpma #magic awakened #weasley siblings #bill Weasley #bill weasley x reader #Charlie Weasley #charlie weasley x reader #Percy Weasley #percy weasley x reader #Fred Weasley #fred weasley x reader #George Weasley #george weasley x reader #fred and george #Weasley twins #mr weasley #Ron Weasley #ron weasley x reader #ginny weasley #ginny weasley x reader #hp #harry potter headcanon #tattoos #harry potter x reader #Headcanons #hp headcanon #x reader #my commissions are open