#julia’s sin posts

[saintlike78]

hey jules! could i request a "i'll cry if i want to" for jaime lannister with the royal guard being in love with the princess trope pls? just a lot of praise and gentleness and maybe jaime being a little cocky or mischievous so its not too out of character lol. thank you!

NSFW (16+)

“Look at you,” Jamie grunted with his signature sly grin lighting up his face, “my pretty princess.”

His gentle hands that caressed your left cheek and drew comforting circles on your lifted thigh were a stark contrast to the unforgivably deep and hard thrusts that pushed you harder against the stone wall. The candles flickered light onto your sweaty skin; the glimmering of your soft skin had Jamie looking down at you with so much admiration he was afraid his heart would explode.

“Jamie,” you whimpered, gripping every inch of him you could reach as he buried himself in you. It was intoxicating, the pleasure ran up your back and spread throughout your entire body.

His skin was sticky under your touch and you knew there would be red claw marks on his back when he was done with you, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care; you couldn’t display his marks - which never stopped him from giving you multiple each night - but it never stopped you from marking him up just as much.

Jamie’s grunts were music to your ears and it made you tighten your thigh around his hip in an attempt to be closer - if that was even possible.

“That’s right, my love. Tell me who’s making you feel this good,” his grin was shit-eating, but his lips against your temple were so soft, “tell me.”

“You, Jamie… so good, always so good,” you moaned, burying yourself in the warmth of his neck.

He let out a grunt and thrust of approval, snaking his hand in between you to play with your already sensitive clit, “that’s right, princess, only me.”

#it’s my party 5.2k celebration #jamie lannister #jamie lannister blurb #jamie lannister x reader #julia’s sin posts

[calliecarmenauthor]

#NEW RELEASE & COVER REVEAL #from the talented Author Susan ViolaRussell #https://amzn.to/3LQmlfk #Enter the post-war world in this family saga of the Mooney family. A Savage Publication. #The Legacy: Sins of the Fathers #As war rages in Europe and Asia #Jude Mooney’s progeny battle to survive. From Europe to Asia to the Home Front #the Mooney clan faces the terrors and danger in the jungles of Asia or the city streets of Europe. In New Orleans #war offers its own challenges. #Daniel—the son who married his brother’s wife to protect her. Daniel thought he would surrender the beautiful Esther to his brother Paul if #but his feelings for her now smolder #surpassing the friendship he’d initially proposed. Nonetheless #he and his brother must resolve the tension between them as they embark on a dangerous mission. #Paul—the son who escaped from the hell of Colditz prison only to find that his brother had married the woman he loved. He is caught between #Esther—the beautiful Jewish operative skilled in espionage is adapting to her life as a wife and mother #but she sees a world of hate and vengeance enveloping her. When war ends #she will be faced with a monumental choice. #Julia—Jude’s niece #trapped in San Tomas. She wrestles with a sin for which she can’t forgive herself as she treats Allied prisoners of war. Scarred by war #she sacrifices for her captured friends. #Jade—Jude’s step-daughter and friend of Julia. Like Julia #she cares for prisoners in San Tomas #but her love for a handsome British officer could lead to disaster. #Wally—Jude’s nephew #reckless and daring. He fights his way through the jungles of the Philippines to rescue his sister and to save the beautiful Filipino woman #Peppy—Wally’s honest and honorable brother who suffers but endures in the hell of a burning Europe. #On the home front #Jude and his wife #Marjorie #wrestle with the challenges war brings to the United States and with the changes taking place within the beautiful and passionate Aoife

[blood-orange-juice]

I promised a "Furina is Jesus" post. It's kind of a shitpost but also it's not.

The theatre of the courtroom

I'll first have to note that law is a peculiar thing. It is created through practicing it.

It's not just the written rules, it's how we apply them, and who gets to write and rewrite them, and there's no solid foundation underneath.

It's supposed to be treated as immutable until it's suddenly not. Until an insurgence turns into a revolution or the divine right of kings becomes a symbolic relic of the past. In the mildest scenario a bunch of old farts just gather and vote for new rules. Sometimes the very same rules that give those old farts the right to decide rules.

A law remains a law as long as enough people agree to believe and enforce it. How much is "enough" is also debatable (often depends on the size of your army).

It is very much like theatre. Humans like it when the world is molded into coherent stories so they happily participate.

Furina making a show out of trials is not a perversion of law, it shows she understands its very nature.

Transgression and transcendence

Now back to Christianity. The essense of Christianity is transgression. No, seriously.

It's as punk as a religion can get. A god hanging out with publicans and harlots? Killing a god in the most humiliating way possible and being forgiven for it? Symbolically eating a god?

It's insane.

Such practices are usually reserved for small communities of a very special sort (*ahem* left-hand path tantrics*ahem*). It's the only religion I know that gleefully and unashamedly incorporates such things into rituals meant for the lay public.

(this is probably a good time to mention that I'm not Christian and it's a look of an outsider fascinated with philosophy of religion in general)

It's actually one of the real reasons a lot of pagans rejected Christianity so fiercely: it's spectacularly nonchalant in dealing with things that would be considered "unclean" by most archaic cultures.

Now this is important.

As post-structuralist theories state, any attempt to establish a power structure, to set rules or to define self will also produce things that would seem unclean. Impure. Things that should be cast off. It's in the nature of our psyche. The concept of uncleanliness is one of the core mechanisms that allow our mind to function.

(I'll redirect you to Julia Kristeva and the concept she names abjection if you want to dive into it.

I also want to note that abjection and horror go side by side and it makes a lot of sense that Fontaine is also the Lovecraftian expansion)

And what did Christianity do? It subtly removed the importance of "cleanliness". The gravity of it. It established as the norm that norms can be redefined and transcended. That the outcasts and the sinners are not to be forgotten.

It fucking changed the rules of how human psyche and society function. Added an extra possible move.

A sin can be forgiven. A criminal executed in the most ignominious way can turn out to be a god. You never truly know. And also anything can be made clean. Go wash it kitten.

(yay)

(and yes, I know a lot of modern Christians practice the opposite of what I describe. I'm not a fan of these folks too. doesn't matter. the possibility is there. it's glorious. also horrifying and a bit disgusting)

That dude from two thousand years ago

What about him.

I often see people calling a "Jesus figure" anyone who is sacrificed to save others. Or anyone who is reborn. The thing is, this is not how it works.

A god dying and being reborn is the oldest myth on this planet. Last time I checked it was connected to the sun worship, day/night cycle and winter solstice rituals (although it could have changed and also I didn't check very thoroughly). In any way, it predates Christianity by millennia.

Sacrificing all kinds of things and beings to get something in return or to offer gods something else in your stead is also pretty old and very much not Christian.

The unique beauty of that story is that a supreme being, ultimately more worthy than any human, wilfully chose to sacrifice himself for lowly mortals. Actually, allowed them to betray and kill him. And then forgave them.

Do you see how it ties to the previous section? It defied the previoisly established world order (where gods were incomparably more important than humans). It created a paradox. It broke the rules, or rather it destroyed the rules.

Theological debates aside, on a symbolic level it pretty much destroyed the old concept of sin and the idea of a fundamental difference between a god and a human. Everything a paradox touches stops being fully real and needs to be redefined (ceci n'est pas une pipe).

'Sin' doesn't mean the same thing anymore, and 'god' doesn't mean the same thing anymore, even 'death' means a different thing now. The world just starts to function differently after a story like that happens or is told.

(since it only needs to mess up the symbolic order it doesn't even need to happen, only to be told and believed)

And there we have it. A Jesus figure should establish new rules. Preferably better ones. It's someone who fundamentally changes the world with their sacrifice.

That's also where we get back to "law is established by practice". That was the process of establishing a new law.

(this is also why I dislike the idea of Childe as a Jesus figure. he is not a supreme being, he's not the type to sacrifice himself for people he perceives as lower than him, and he is not integrated into society enough for his death to establish new rules. he can still die and be reborn in a new quality, he can even change the world in some way but that would be a different type of story)

Our precious girlfailure

So. Furina.

Fontaine's prophecy speaks of all Fontainians being born with some kind of 'sin'. And the way Neuvilette is talking to the pool of primordial water in 4.1 implies that its ability to dissolve Fontainians is not some kind of natural law but an intentional wrathful act.

And Varunada Lazurite (we know that ascension materials contain the final lines of the archon quest) says this:

"My ideals have no stains. I must correct you. People here bear no sins in the eyes of the gods... Only laws and the Tribunal can judge someone. They can judge even me. So praise my magnificence and purity."

I assume the solution will not be simply killing the eldritch whale or "cleansing" the sin or locking the sea away.

I think Furina will in some way redefine what is considered a sin, or how it should be judged, or who gets to administer judgement. She will create new rules for the world. Probably by dying in some way (temporarily or symbolically) to create a paradox.

(maybe we'll also get to learn that death in Teyvat is not true death)

As I said at the beginning, she understands the law and the very nature of law very well, probably better than Neuvilette. Who else would be better suited for this task.

And no one will notice the beauty and insanity of her gesture, like no one really noticed with that guy two thousand years ago. They'll just think things got fixed because they sacrificed Someone Important.

But that's all right. She'll forgive them.

#focalors #furina #fontaine #maybe this is not what will happen but then you get to enjoy this theory until 4.2 comes out #I do not accept the authority of this court to judge me #and yes I include post-structuralist theories in my shitposts #you can't stop me #can't stop won't stop #but honestly #this is why I strongly dislike jesus figures in media #if an author wants to do it they should at least try to match the scale of the original story #otherwise it's just cheap and pathetic #childe #tartaglia #(since he's mentioned here too)

[squadxx4392]

Jegulus as angsty song lyrics (from previous list posted)

(If The World Was Ending by JP Saxe and Julia Michaels)

James : I know, you know, we know, you weren't down for forever and it's fine

Regulus : Think I figured out how, how to think about you without it ripping my heart out

(Rewrite the Stars by Zac Efron and Zendaya)

James : You know I want you, it's not a secret I tried to hide, I know you want me, so don't keep saying our hands are tied

Regulus : You know I want you, it's not a secret I tried to hide, but I can't have you, we're bound to break and my hands are tied

(when the party's over by Billie Eilish)

James : Tore my shirt to stop you bleedin', but nothin' ever stops you leavin', quiet when I'm comin' home and I'm on my own, I could lie, say I like it like that, like it like that, I could lie, say I like it like that, like it like that

Regulus : But nothin' is better sometimes, once we've both said our goodbyes, let's just let it go, let me let you go

(Daylight by David Kushner)

James : Oh, I love it and I hate it at the same time, you and I drink the poison from the same vine, oh, I love it and I hate it at the same time, hidin' all of our sins from the daylight

Regulus : Tellin' myself it's the last time, can you spare any mercy that you might find, if I'm down on my knees again? Deep down, way down, Lord, I try, try to follow your light, but it's night time, please, don't leave me in the end

(Astronomy by Conan Gray)

James : We've traveled the seas, we've ridden the stars, we've seen everything from Saturn to Mars, as much as it seems like you own my heart, it's astronomy, we're two worlds apart

Regulus : We're two worlds apart, stop trying to keep us alive, you're pointing at stars in the sky that already died, stop trying to keep us alive, you can't force the stars to align when they've already died

(Bubblegum by Clairo)

James : Sorry I didn't kiss you, but it's obvious I wanted to, bubble gum down my throat and it's a curse, but my luck couldn't get any worse

Regulus : You look so nice in your shirt, it's sad because it just hurts, I'd do anything for you, but would you do that for me, too?

(Fourth of July by Sufjan Stevens)

James : The evil it spread like a fever ahead, it was night when you died, my firefly, what could I have said to raise you from the dead? Oh could I be the sky on the Fourth of July? Well you do enough talk, my little hawk, why do you cry? Tell me what did you learn from the Tillamook burn? Or the Fourth of July? We're all gonna die

Regulus : The hospital asked should the body be cast, before I say goodbye, my star in the sky, such a funny thought to wrap you up in cloth, do you find it all right, my dragonfly?, Shall we look at the moon, my little loon, why do you cry? Make the most of your life, while it is rife, while it is light, well you do enough talk, my little hawk, why do you cry? Tell me what did you learn from the Tillamook burn? Or the Fourth of July? We're all gonna die

(Heather by Conan Gray)

James : I still remember the third of December, me in your sweater, you said it looked better on me than it did you, only if you knew how much I liked you

Regulus : But I watch your eyes as she, walks by, what a sight for sore eyes, brighter than the blue sky, she's got you mesmerized while I die

(I Hear a Symphony by Cody Fry)

James : I used to hear a simple song, that was until you came along, now in its place is something new, I hear it when I look at you

Regulus : I used to hear a simple song, that was until you came along, you took my broken melody, and now I hear a symphony

(lovely by Billie Eilish and Khalid)

James : Oh, I hope some day I'll make it out of here, even if it takes all night or a hundred years, ned a place to hide, but I can't find one near, wanna feel alive, outside I can't fight my fear

Regulus : Isn't it lovely, all alone? Heart made of glass, my mind of stone, tear me to pieces, skin to bone, hello, welcome home

(Train Wreck by James Arthur)

James : Unbreak the broken, unsay these spoken words, find hope in the hopeless, pull me out of the train wreck

Regulus : Unburn the ashes, unchain the reactions now, not ready to die, not yet, pull me out the train wreck, pull me out, pull me out, pull me out, ah, pull me out, pull me out, pull me out

(Something in the Orange by Zach Bryan)

James : But I miss you in the mornings when I see the sun, something in the orange tells me we're not done

Regulus : To you I'm just a man, to me you're all I am, where the hell am I supposed to go? I poisoned myself again, something in the orange tells me you're never coming home

(Two Birds by Regina Spektor)

James : Two birds on a wire (oh-oh-oh), one says, "C'mon" and the other says, "I'm tired", the sky is overcast and I'm sorry (oh-oh-oh), one more or one less, nobody's worried

Regulus : Two birds on a wire, one tries to fly away, and the other watches him close from that wire, he says he wants to as well, but he is a liar

(Water Fountain by Alec Benjamin)

James : Now I'm grabbing her hips, and pulling her in, kissing her lips, and whispering in her ear, and I know that it's only a wish, and that we're not standing by the water fountain

Regulus : Now he's grabbing her hips, and pulling her in, kissing her lips, and whispering in her ear, and she knows that she shouldn't listen, and that she should be with me by the water fountain

#lgbtq #harry potter #marauders #jegulus #gay #these songs are so them #sunseeker #starchaser #james x regulus #james potter #regulus black #this is actually so depressing tbh-

[kotias]

WIP Ask Game

The rules:

Post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous.

Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! Then tag as many people as your have WIPs.

Thanks for tagging me, @gaiaseyes451 !

... I have a lot, and will categorise by fandom. THANKS, GAIA.

Dragon Ball (Z/GT/Super)

Wish of the Oozaru

Amber Lily

Attached

A Saiyan's definition of Love

Eyeshield 21

Tanabata

Avatar

Mirrors

Supernatural

My Cover, My Shield

Inuyasha

Ookami no koinu

One Piece

Himawari

Cooking up trouble

Communion

Hitsuyo

Pirate King

Swapped

Give me your hand

Bleeding Love

Tsubaki

Dreams

Good Omens

In Spite of Heaven and Hell

Lost Memories Still Cast Love (with @daneecastle )

We Are In Our Eden (with @daneecastle )

Down the Path of Sin (with @daneecastle )

Sense of Persuasion

Starved For Your Touch

The art and science of asking questions

Vein of Love

Sheltered Scars

The Unfortunate Door (for @daneecastle )

Smut prompts

My Arum Lily

...

Let's tag 30 people now.

@daneecastle @thescholarlystrumpet @cheeseplants @rhosmeinir @feiandart @saucysmutpigeon @gingerhaole @quona @aidaran-alha @hakunahistata @lauramoon1987 @vavoom-sorted-art @gahellhimself-blog @mintounette @nonbayanary @dbzsenpai @rykundsz-art @yumchxa @aolihui @jorongbak @amartbee @julia-shephard @imgomis @where-does-the-heart-lie @lirhyapetitpain @inpolariis @toboldlymuppet @astharoshe @hgatoart @saurgazing-arts

Good counting everybody!

#wip ask game #my fic writing #wip wednesday #ask game #good omens #one piece #inuyasha #eyeshield 21 #supernatural #avatar: the last airbender #avatar: the legend of korra #dragon ball #dragon ball Z #dragon ball GT #dragon ball Super

[polite-pandemonium]

[LISTEN] -  always an angel, never a god - a Shoko Ieiri playlist that very much is meant to represent her post chapter 236. Sad tunes by female musicians. Also - female rage. Gege doesn't seem to want to show us her feelings, so I will do it through song! All songs are Shoko centric, but some definitely could be directed towards either Satoru or Suguru or both!!!!! I tried to have this sort of follow a narrative that takes place pre, during, and post the Shinjuku Showdown arc, while making sure the music still flowed. IDK, I took this very seriously lol. Tracklist: 1. I don't like my mind - mitski 2. in hell - japanese breakfast 3. final girl - chvrches 4. days of oblivion - metric 5. not strong enough - boy genius 6. doomsday - lizzie mcapline 7. both all the time - faye webster 8. you always get what you want - the japanese house 9. when was that? - angus and julia stone 10. only the strong - laura marling 11. girls against god - florence + the machine specific lyrics for each song under the cut!

I don't like my mind | mitski I blast music loud and I work myself to the bone and on an inconvenient Christmas, I eat a cake a whole cake all for me and then I get sick and throw up and there's another memory that gets stuck inside the walls of my skull waiting for its turn to talk and it may be a few years but you can bet it's there waiting still for me to be left alone in a room with the things that I've done a whole cake so please don't take take this job from me

in hell | japanese breakfast with my luck, you'll be dead within the year I've come to expect it there's nothing left to fear, at least there's that and under the fluorescence, another sterile room where no one ever tells you just how clinical death looks and I can't unsee it the two shots it took hell is finding someone to love and I can't have you hell is finding someone to love and I can't see you again

final girl | chvrches swallowing the seeds of sin we sewed into the ground keeping secrets until everything became a bit too loud I would wash it down, I could drown it out by filling up the silence with an organ sound and by writing sentences I used to think were quite profound and it feels like the weight is too much to carry I should quit maybe go get married only time will tell in the final cut in the final scene there's a final girl does she look like me?

days of oblivion | metric all the times that now and then appear as only dreams all the stuff from way back when that's coming up don't self destruct you don't have to call for the wrecking ball or burn the world to ashes all you have to do is ask me to I'll stop you where the descending stairs drop I've unlocked all the doors and I've lost all the keys and I live in a mansion made up from memories I know I need you don't ever leave me I'll never leave you behind I know you need me the way I need you I'll never leave you don't ever leave me behind not strong enough | boy genius do you see us getting scraped up off the pavement? I don't know why I am the way I am not strong enough to be your man I lied - I am just lowering your expectations half a mind that keeps the other second guessing close my eyes and count always an angel, never a god I don't know why I am the way I am there's something in the static I think I've been having revelations coming to in the front seat, nearly empty skip the exit to our old street and go home go home alone doomsday | lizzie mcalpine doomsday is close at hand I'll book the marching band to play as you speak I'll feel like throwing up you'll sit and stare like a goddamn machine I'd like to plan out my part in this but you're such a narcissist that you did it on Halloween I had no choice in the matter why would I? it's only the death of me both all the time | faye webster will I stop crying for once? it's hurting my eyes there's a difference between lonely and lonesome but I'm both all the time I'm loneliest at night after my shower beer and I'll go to sleep without turning out the lights pretend like somebody's here you always get what you want | the japanese house and you've left now but it's better that I know you're gone and I breathe out dizzy from the last hour of holding on and does he do right by you? and does he work so hard? I know you'll miss me, but you'll call me back you always get what you want when was that? | angus and julia stone I wonder if you can hear me wonder if you can feel my heart beating now I wonder if things will be okay wonder if things will keep changing will I fall down? take me back to when things were easier take me back to a place where I belong take me back to a place that feels like home when was that? only the strong | laura marling we've been here a thousand times wish I could go back and find letters I wrote you in my mind perhaps I could unknot us from this awful bind hope that you can change my mind had to leave this crying all behind I hope that you don't think that I'm unkind just somebody told me only and only only the strong can survive

girls against god | florence + the machine if they ever let me out, I'm really gonna let it out I listen to music from 2006 and feel kind of sick but, oh god, you're gonna get it you'll be sorry that you messed with this oh, tell me it's not over yet and in my darkest fantasies, I'm the picture of passivity waiting for you side of stage suppressing all my private rage oh, it's good to be alive crying into cereal at midnight and if they let me out, I'm really gonna let it out when I decided to wage holy war it very much looked like staring at my bedroom floor but, oh god, you're gonna get it you'll be sorry that you messed with me

#shoko ieiri #ieiri shoko #jjk 236 spoilers #jjk spoilers #spoilers #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #sashisu #satosho #(if you squint lol) #god I have been working on this on and off for weeks #I just need to get it out there #I took selecting all of these songs VERY SERIOUSLY #DM if you want specifics as to why I chose them cause I have feelings about them all

[kasunex]

Hello! I found you in the TCOAAL tag, hope it doesn't bother you lol, I just enjoyed reading your opinions on this game.

Since I saw you questioning Andrew in the Decay route, I wanted to offer you my two cents about it, and why Andrew is so snappy at Ashley there: you can enter the Decay route in two ways, if either of the siblings fails to commit to the other and don't break away from their unhealthy coping mechanism.

If Ashley refuses to let Andrew watch over their parents, she is giving in to her own paranoia and mistrust. Her controlling tendencies towards Andrew stem from her fear that he doesn't really love her (because she is fundamentally impossible to love, that's what everyone told her), and if he has a choice he'll always pick the other choice. No matter how much Andrew commits to her, she is always scared - this is what causes the big fight in the room 302. So her solution is to simply cut out the other choice. She let Nina die, she harassed Julia into breaking up with Andrew, and now, she won't let him talk with their parents. This is the same "Leyley orders Andy around" dynamic that Andrew wants to desperately break free of, and the very reason he despises the nickname Andy - which Ashley keeps using in this route to exercise control: "I love you, Andy. I love you, I love you, I love you". If you choose this option, Ashley ruins their relationship further by caving in to her insecurity, the fear that Andrew would lie to her, abandon her for anyone, and that he really gives her nothing (read: not the all-encompassing love she craves, since she's "no pretty lady he can fuck"... also, sidenote, Ashley's obsession with sex and what it says about her selfworth is fascinating). Of course Andrew would be mad that no matter what he does, it's never enough for his sister, and she will always try every dirty trick in the book to keep him under her thumb.

If Ashley trusts Andrew with the parents, but Andrew accepts their offer to leave Ashley behind and live a normal life, Andrew sinks once again into denial. He is a normal person, really! He could live a normal life! But he is stuck with Ashley. It's all Ashley's fault for pushing him around. It's all Ashley's fault for ruining his life. Andrew is her doormat, and nothing more. Like this, Andrew builds up resentment and resentment, choosing to put all the blame on Ashley's shoulders instead of admitting to himself, like he does if he refuses, that he's just as fucked up as Ashley is. Case in point: in the Decay route he's disgusted when chopping up his parents, a normal reaction which makes Ashley smile, while in the Burial route he's completely detatched, which worries Ashley because this isn't the weak Andy she knows and loves.

So it's not that Andrew in the Decay route is OOC, I think. You, player, simply choose to exarcerbate the issues between the two siblings, whose relationship was already strained by that point, mostly by Ashley still calling Andrew "Andy" which symbolizes her not wanting to move on from the relationship they had as children. The Burial route allows them to say "fuck it, it's us against the world" in their own way: Ashley by accepting that she can slightly let go the leash she put on Andrew because he's her ally, and Andrew by stopping pretending he's just a victim of circumstances.

Sorry for the long rant lol. Have a nice day ^^

No worries at all - in fact I'm posting this publicly so it can be seen by more eyes. It's very well put and does a good job of explaining.

I had my concerns about the route splitting, but I am curious to see how the different routes ultimately play out. Especially because, to be honest, I don't know what the best path forward for these two is.

The part of me that is playing as them, empathizing, thinks they should just embrace their degeneracy and enjoy burning in Hell together - a la Burial - and the part of me that is watching and judging thinks they deserve to drag each other to the grave for all the awful sins they have committed - a la Decay.

Sans the "less incestous" Burial route. That one seems passable.

#The Coffin of Andy and Leyley

[toxicruins101]

Too much for the soul to take.

(commission, feel free to ask in DM's or pinned post for a commission)

Tag: @wishlist022

Carmen Sandiego and Gn! Reader

Tw: character death, angst, hyperventilating, existencial crisis, funeral.

Rear at your own risk.

Everyone knew it was a risk.

That it might be too much this time around, yet they pressured on.

And look at the consequences.

Carmen yelling and crying, player trying to comfort her over the comms.

The twins stayed silent while tears fell, not saying a single word.

Chase and Julia hadn't been told yet, granted they wouldn't have such a heavy reaction as the others, but it still hurt.

And you? You stayed silent, saying nothing as Carmen yelled at you.

You should have done more she exclaimed, her hurt voice booming around the bases walls as she did so.

It all started with a simple stealth mission, get in, get the information, and get out, but the universe has a tendency of messing up things that aren't supposed to be messed up.

The alarms blared, the white walls stained with red from the flashing lights.

Carmen and you ran as fast as possible to get out of there.

The yelling of urgency from everyone was almost too loud to hear and understand, but the fear in their voices was more than audible.

Carmen managed to run out the gates as they were being forced down, you weren't as fast as her, guards running after you.

You heard a gun shot, missing you just by an inch of your hair. It took you by surprise, your feet stumbling on each other, making you fall to the ground with a harsh thud.

The sound of rapid footsteps and someone helping you up was the only thing audible to you right now, your vision blurring in and out.

You blinked a few times, you were so close! So close to the outside.

Just as the person who was helping you stepped foot outside the barrier, you both came crashing down.

Gasps surround you, slowly blinking your eyes open at the feeling of a warm runny liquid staining your skin and clothes slowly.

Your vision un blurs.

"Shadow san.."

You whisper shocked, the gate had closed down, leaving you and the team alone in the silence.

There he laid, dead, in a pool of his own blood and it was all because of you.

A month had passed, yet the tension was obvious.

It was a shiny day on the wrong occasion, you watched as they carried out the casket, and put it underground.

Player even flew out to the team in order to mourn Shadow san properly, guilt clouded your heart and sadness your mind.

Nobody said it, or mentioned it, but they didn't need to. Their cold looks told you everything you needed to know.

That if you had been faster, quieter, more skilled, Shadow san wouldn't be buried 6 feet underground as you mourned.

People dressed in black surrounding you, familiar and non-familiar faces alike surrounded you.

White roses, each slowly but surely dropped into the casket until it was finally Carmen's turn.

She walked up, her steady pace slowed down with hurt. She took the only red rose and laid it with the others, right in the center.

The casket was covered up again, and it was done, everything was done. Shadow san was officially gone.

Carmen broke down, falling to her knees but refusing for anyone's help except Players.

You felt so bad, so so bad.

To know the death of such a loved person was caused by your recklessness, your stupidity. If you had known you would've never tagged along for this mission.

Yet you did, and not even a God could fix this now, if you repented for all your sins and found the holy light, nothing could fix this.

Nothing.

"you have to understand, Carm is..."

One of the twins start out, trying to help out like they could.

It had been two months since the funeral but everything was just too cold now, to empty.

"Mad? Yeah I figured as much. I killed her only family. There's not much I can say to make it better."

You say with a sigh, looking down at the ground.

"Just give her some time yeah? Maybe she'll understand eventually. This is hard for her like it is for all of us, let's go inside, mate. It's freezing out here."

Their voices ringed in your head, lies, all lies.

"they are useless! What happens when they screw up another mission huh?! When more lives are lost because of their idiocy!!"

Carmen yells angrily, her voice booming off the walls as she yelled back and forth with a nervous Player on the comms.

Tears brimmed your eyes and you ran, not knowing where to or when to stop, you just ran.

You panted, looking around at the secluded part of the city, you looked down at the floor and your knees buckled under you.

You held in a sob and wrapped your arms around yourself in an empty embrace.

You just wanted to be reminded what it felt to be loved again, to be part of a team, but then it got messed up, and there's nobody to blame but yourself.

You sobbed on the ground, desperate to scream and yell.

Breathing un-tense and useless as you wailed on the lonely ground, slamming your fists down in sadness and anger until you bled.

You doubted your existence, if not even Carmen could see your use, what were you good for?

Maybe she was right, you think.

You shouldn't be on the team, more death will surely follow your unlucky path and anybody that crosses it.

Your tears ran cold against your face, the on-coming cars seemed almost invisible as they edged ever closer to your shivering frame.

It isn't anger or happiness that makes the soul breakdown, most of the time it's pity for oneself or the pity towards others.

At the end of the day,

Sometimes guilt is just..

Too much for the soul to take.

#writing #fanfic #reader insert #gn reader #angst #carmen sandiego #carmen sandeigo 2019 #carmen sandeigo netflix #x gn reader #x gn y/n #character death #x reader

[andrews-graves]

Welcome to the blog

My name is Andrew, I’m one of the three Andrew’s in our system. Please refer to this post for info about us & our sisters

Our sisters blog is @ashleys-graves

You’re welcome to ask questions about us, our memories, and our AU’s we’re from.

Also like, don’t get mad about my source, none of us care. You open the incest cannibalism guy blog you get the incest cannibalism guy blog yk. Just block us and our sisters.

Me and Andy love attention so feel free to stop by and chat, graves might post sometimes too if he feels like it.

Not claiming any of our memories as canon, may post about our AU’s though.

General blog space info :: proship friendly, coffincest friendly, all system origin friendly, welcoming of everyone as long as they’re nice ftmp, no real dni other than no one under 18 please. Generally a freak zone thanks.

Tags & etc. bellow the cut

Tags ::

𖤐 — posts | 𖤐 — rambles | 𖤐 — rbs

𖤐 — asks | 𖤐 — anons | 𖤐 — misc

𖤐 — tar soul (posts about ashley)

𖤐 — deadly sin (posts about me/andrew)

𖤐 — sweet sunflower (posts about Julia)

𖤐 — corpse talk (nsfw and related posts)

𖤐 — the demon speaks (obsession/yandere posts)

——————

Us info :: intersex, 19, it/shi/gore, ASPD, HCDID, testosterone transfem, dyke/butch/mutt (gender), lesbian, asian/indigenous/jewish/etc., taken, neurodivergent.

#tcoaal #the coffin of andy and leyley #coffincest #gravecest #andrew graves #Andy graves #leyley graves #Ashley graves #Andy and leyley #Andrew graves introject #Ashley graves introject #introject #fictive #plural #proship

[elder-dragon-reposes]

Kynadora- The Wheel Turns, Chapter 1

Summary: Julia Kynadora Lastblood had only intended to come to Skyrim as a healer and help whoever she could. Instead, she finds herself front and center in the Dragon Crisis and being drawn into the Civil War. Between that and trying to find her place in Skyrim while still managing to do what she came to Skyrim for originally, the internal turmoil she’s been struggling with since her childhood becoming worse shouldn’t be that much of a surprise. Being Dragonborn certainly is though.

Author's Note: Hi everyone! I've been working on getting this out for a bit now and Chapter 1 is now ready to post. I'd really like to thank @nerevar-quote-and-star for all the support as well as for acting as a beta reader for me!

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Tag List:

Let me know if you'd like to be added to the tag list for future updates!

The first thing that her mind can register is the sounds of nature and the roll of a cart along a bumpy stone road. One hard bump along the road shoots pain through her head and shoulders, forcing her eyes open, and yet not a sound of pain out of her. The pain subsided slightly, but she could still feel her head throb and her eyes still took a moment to go from still seeing black to seeing only in a fuzzy haze, to finally allowing her to see the world around her enough to make out the details of the world around her. The first thing her eyes truly notice is the landscape around her, mountains and snow, and nothing familiar to her. The second thing is the blond man sitting on the cart before her. His focus is somewhere off in the distance, and his attention doesn’t shift until another bump of the cart causes her to hiss in pain. 

“Hey, you. You’re finally awake.” She nods, which her body registers as a mistake for her as soon as she follows through with the motion. Her head throbs in pain again harshly, before slowly easing off into something more manageable. It gives her the confidence to finally pull herself up into a sitting position so that the harsh bumps of the road don’t dig into her neck and bother her injury. Injuries? She’s not quite sure of what exactly is wrong with her yet. “You were trying to cross the border right? Walked right into that Imperial ambush, same as us, and that thief over there.”

It was too much information all at once. Imperial ambush? Thief? The blond man’s armor wasn’t the type that just any bandit would wear. Or just any mercenary. And as she looked around, others in the carts in front of them wore similar garb. Why would the Imperials have ambushed them? And how did she get in the middle of it? She tried to focus on the questions, looking for the answers in her mind, but the memories surrounding the event weren’t coming to her. But it was causing more hurt. The blond’s eyes softened, a concern dancing across his features and she wished that it didn’t hurt a bit more than the physical pain dancing around her. 

“Damn, you Stormcloaks.” She knew that name. How? Wait. Stormcloaks. The Civil War that had broken out in Skyrim months ago. The thing that she’d sworn to her uncle that she would avoid to the best of her abilities. That she of course had already gotten caught up in. 

Wait. Where was she? She’d been heading towards a town, tiredness had been seeping into her bones and she’d been excited to finally be in Skyrim. Then noises of distress, and she’d gone to help and the world had gone dark. Her attention drifts from the conversation and onto the world around them. Things looked familiar and yet not. She didn’t know Skyrim well enough to try and even attempt to figure out where she was. 

A gentle wind pushes through and her shoulders settle in a way. She’d still done it. Even if she had no idea where she was right now. She’d crossed the border into Skyrim. This was still it, the place that she’d wanted to see since she was a child and her father had told her stories that had been passed to him from his father. She was the first of her line to be in Skyrim since her great-grandfather had left for Cyrodiil. It was still more beautiful than she’d expected it to be, and she’d been expecting so much. 

Her study and focus on the landscape rolling past them was interrupted by the man sitting on the left side of the blond calling out to her, dragging her attention back to the people sharing the cart with her. “You there. You and me – we shouldn’t be here. It’s these Stormcloaks the Empire wants.” That was true enough. She’d never done anything herself to warrant being arrested, no matter what the Empire and the Thalmor said about her family history. And she’d never left Cyrodiil until now. So it wasn’t even possible for her to be a Stormcloak, or really any other manner of criminal in Skyrim. 

“We’re all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief.” Unfortunately, also true. After all, the fact that she was also currently a prisoner of the Empire would be why she couldn’t heal her head wound, and whatever else was wrong with her, the binds blocked magicka to try and circumvent any potential escapees. Or property damage. After all, a mage who doesn’t know anything beyond flames is just as dangerous as a mage who knows many spells beyond conjuring fire. Sometimes more if they couldn’t control the flames beyond conjuring them up. From what she could tell though, she seemed to still have her armor on. Her hood was missing and so was her pack and sword, but the rest of her armor seemed to still be attached to her. 

As the dark-haired man was about to respond, the soldier driving the cart turned around and smacked the wood of the cart. “Shut up back there!” He turned back to the road, and the two men looked at one another before choosing to look away completely. Her own eyes drifted to the blond and then to the landscape around her. 

The dark-haired man was ultimately the one to break the silence once more after their shared moment of silence. “And what’s wrong with him?” Her brows furrow and she turns her head as far as it will go without another shot of pain to her right. Finally noticing the man who had been sitting there this whole time and whose eyes had been on her for who knew how long. He was gagged and wearing a level of finery that no one else she’d seen was. He wasn’t a normal prisoner, and a hint of danger settled in her chest. 

“Watch your tongue!” The blond man’s temper pulled her attention away from the gagged man, a shock as he had been nothing but calm in the minutes she’d been lucid enough to take note of what was around her. “You’re speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King.” Her heart dropped. He really wasn’t a normal prisoner. This wasn’t a normal group of prisoners being transported Stuhn knows where. The dark-haired man seemed to be catching up to her thoughts as his next words registered in her pounding skull. Where were they taking them? Once more the conversation in the cart stalled. The blond mentioned Sovngarde, and all her focus went there for a moment. Had she earned a place there? Earned the ability to see her father again? Or would she join her mother in Aetherius, with the rest of her Imperial ancestors?

This time, it’s the blond who drags her out of her thoughts. He speaks softly once more, the anger he’d held before having dissipated. “Hey, what village are you from, horse thief?” 

“Why do you care?” The thief’s hands were shaking, and when she looked down at her own for a moment she saw that her own were as well. It was getting more difficult to breathe, and her head hurt more from the accidental clenching and grinding of her jaw joining the head wound. 

The blonde looks ahead for a moment, seeming to gather his thoughts before continuing down the path of discussion he wished to. “A Nord’s last thoughts-” his eyes drift to her and he seems to correct himself, “anyone’s last thoughts should be of home.” He was right of course. She thought of many things. Of the castle and shops of Skingrad that she’d grown up in and around. Of rolling hills and smiling faces that she’d left behind. And of the little home in Rivercrest that she’d grown up in. The home that no longer existed, but lived on in memories. She wished that she might have seen the town once more before now though. 

The thief’s own eyes glazed over for a moment, his focus far away from this cart and the road beneath it. Likely on what he had left behind for this potential fate too. “Rorikstead. I’m… I’m from Rorikstead.” She heard of that village. She wasn’t sure where, but she’d heard of it. A song perhaps? One her father had sung? The blond nods and his attention turns back to her. 

“And you?” His eyes are tired and for a moment she’s not quite sure how to answer him when the answer feels so large to such a small question. 

She thinks of kind smiles once more. Of graves that had yet to be dug when she was taken from Rivercrest. Of open arms and strawberry treats. Of friends that she may never see again. She hopes that Baura will not blame herself for whatever may occur at the end of the road that they are all on. And that her uncle wouldn’t cause too much trouble for those responsible. Her voice is rough as she speaks, like when she would get sick as a child. “Skingrad. This is my first time in Skyrim if you’ll believe it.” The soldier driving makes a noise. Of realization or recognition, she couldn’t be sure. The Jarl sitting next to her made one of clear frustration, which drew her eyes back to him. He looked away when they finally landed back on him. 

“Oh. What brought you to Skyrim then?” The blond was good at this. Calming people down and distracting them from their situation. She’d had to do the same for some of her patients and appreciated being on the other side of it for right now.

“I’m a healer. I needed to be out of Cyrodiil for some time, and Skyrim seemed like as good as any place to start helping.” The blond nodded and the man next to her made another muffled noise from behind his gag. She couldn’t decipher what it meant this time though. “And you? Where are you from?”

He seemed to be surprised at the question as if he hadn’t expected another of his cart mates to ask him anything in return. “Riverwood. It’s a small logging town not far from here.” She nods and tries her best to smile reassuringly at him. When this ended, she swore to find her way to Riverwood and find his family. Tell them of his kindness in the face of an upcoming execution. If she herself was not killed as well, that is. 

The conversation stalled once more and with it came the view of a walled town covered in the banners of the Empire. From the view at the top of the hill, she could see homes and what appeared to be a keep. Likely a town that was being used as a command post by the military. It was a good spot, especially since she couldn’t imagine that it was too far from the Pale Pass. At least not if she’d gotten her geographical bearings right. It was especially hard to tell since she wasn’t quite sure how long she’d been out. Hours? Days? It was hard to tell. 

As they passed through the entrance, a soldier shouted out to General Tullius that the headsman was ready and waiting. She’d met him once before now. Her uncle had been called to the Imperial City for some business or another, and he’d been at the gathering. From her view of his back, it didn’t seem that he’d changed that much. She’d spoken to him about something that seemed important at the time but had been ushered away from him by her uncle shortly after. 

The thief begins praying to the Imperial Divines, and she can’t stop herself from sending her own prayers off. She focuses on Kyne and Stuhn. Her action drew the attention of both the blond man and the Jarl. It made sense. She doubted that they’d run into many Imperials that worshiped the Old Nord pantheon. 

It isn’t until the blond mentions the Thalmor that she notices them over by Tullius. A chill runs down her spine, and she tries to control her breathing. Her eyes slam back down to her hands, sending a shock of pain through the area of her head most near them. For a moment she looks to her right and notices that the Jarl’s position now nearly matches hers. 

“This is Helgen.” Her attention is drawn away from her panic, anxiety crawling up her throat, at the sound of his voice once more. “I used to be sweet on a girl from here.” His distraction works. It gives her more questions though. Was that girl here? Would she watch him lose his head? “Wonder if Vilod is still making that mead with juniper berries mixed in.” He laughs bitterly. “Funny… when I was a boy, Imperial walls and towers used to make me feel so safe.” She wondered what that was like. Even before the killing of her parents, Imperial soldiers and walls had never equaled safety for her. She imagined that that was likely due to how her father had been the one truly caring for Rivercrest though, and not some strange commentary on the failure of the Empire and its soldiers. After all, she’d never really interacted with or seen many before Skingrad. Even though her interactions there didn’t necessarily prove very helpful in giving her a positive view of them. 

She turns as much as she can to get a look at the town. At the very least before this ends, she wants to know the town as well as she can. She watches as a father orders his son inside their home, not wanting him to see the death that the soldiers he seemed fascinated by would be dealing with his own eyes just yet. She respected it. The boy seemed far too young to watch an execution, no matter how his family may feel one way or the other about the Civil War. Death wasn’t something that you could ignore once you’d been confronted with it. And it was hard to forget the memory of the first death, the first body, that you saw. 

The carts all come to a stop and she releases a breath that she didn’t know she had been holding. Her heart drops, and nausea rises in her stomach. “Why are they stopping?” The thief’s voice is quiet, and she doubted that she would’ve heard it had it not been for being in such close quarters with him. 

“Why do you think? End of the line. Let’s go. Shouldn’t keep the gods waiting for us.” She prays silently as they begin to stand and move to the edge of the cart. She ignores the exchange between the blond and the thief as she does so, focused on keeping her feet straight. Standing had caused darkness to cloud her vision once more, the wound once more rearing its ugly head. As she made it to the edge, she lost her balance and slipped clumsily off of the cart causing her leg to catch wrong on the cobblestone ground. The soldier who had been driving the cart helped her to her feet, and she walked it off, continuing to where the soldiers were grouping them. 

As she walks, who she assumes is the Captain gives them instructions to step to the block when they hear their name. What was she going to do when they didn’t call it though? Would they finally realize that she didn’t belong here in this group? Or would she be sent to the block anyhow? While wrong, and technically against Imperial law, she didn’t imagine that it would matter much to them. She didn’t trust the Empire to do the “right thing” here. Its citizens didn’t matter quite as much as it pretended that they did. 

Darkness clouds her vision once more as she comes to a stop, and she has to put more weight on one leg over the other to prevent her legs from buckling underneath her. “Ulfric Stormcloak. Jarl of Windhelm.” The Jarl stalks off to the block, making more muffled sounds from behind the gag. 

“It has been an honor, Jarl Ulfric!” The blond’s voice is sure in this. The Empire could say a lot of things about the Stormcloaks, but the idea that they weren’t loyal to him would be a complete lie. 

The soldier holding the list continues, “Ralof of Riverwood.” The blond walks off to the block with that and a look to the list maker. Or Ralof. Ralof walks off to the block. He was sure in his steps, and she couldn’t help but admire him for his confidence, even as he walked to his death. 

As the soldier moves on, a look thrown at Ralof’s back, the thief –Lokir– bolts upon his name being called. “Halt!” calls the Captain, but he keeps going. She calls for the archers, and he is downed nearly as quickly as he took off running. “Anyone else feel like running?” The Baura that lives in her mind says yes. 

“Wait, you there. Step forward. Who are you?” She wasn’t on the list. She was expecting this, but something about it still felt strange. The fact that they’d just loaded her up with the rest of the prisoners, though she’d had her armor donned. And it certainly didn’t look like the Stormcloak’s armor or the Empire’s armor. 

She remembers her uncle’s words. Hold your head high and look them in the eye when you introduce yourself. You have reason to be proud of your name. Your heritage. “Julia Lastblood. Of Skingrad.” If the soldier could look more confused, he likely would. She’d gotten many weird looks over the years as an Imperial with Nord’s surname.

He turns, “Captain, what do we do? She’s not on the list?” Here it was. A moment of truth for the place she’d lived all her life. Would she be sent to the block? Killed mercilessly like her parents? Or be spared

“Forget the list. She goes to the block.” Disappointed, but not surprised. Julia had known that this was a possibility from the very beginning, but the venom in the Captain’s voice drove the dagger of betrayal deeper into her heart. 

The soldier seems surprised though, then disappointed that he will have to follow those orders. “I’m sorry. We’ll make sure your remains are returned to Skingrad.” Hopefully, they would go to Rivercrest after. She liked the idea of being buried next to her parents, even if she would only see one of them in the afterlife. Whichever one she was going to.

As she walks to the block, she prays under her breath. All of the gods her father taught her to worship, from Kyne and the Hearth gods to the Dead ones and even to Alduin. Praying that the world’s end would come far in the future, in the hopes that her family that she had left behind would have long lives after her. She stands by the other prisoners and meets Ralof’s eyes. There is anger there that she hopes will disappear before his head is removed. 

Tullius addresses the leader of the rebellion, trying and succeeding at making himself look taller while he does so. “Ulfric Stormcloak. Some here in Helgen call you a hero, but a hero doesn’t use a power like the Voice to murder his king and usurp his throne.” Stormcloak grunts in protest, but the gag does not let him get out whatever words would be his last. “You started this war, plunged Skyrim into chaos and now the Empire is going to put you down, and restore the peace.” Julia would laugh if it weren’t for the circumstances. She’d been born after the Great War, and Cyrodiil had never been peaceful in her lifetime. Besides, they may as well be declaring Ulfric a martyr themselves. 

Whatever Stormcloak was going to grunt in response was interrupted by a sound coming from the mountains above them. A screech. It felt wrong in a way. Like something had broken. Had torn. “What was that?” The soldier’s words echoed her thoughts. What kind of creature could sound like that? It had to be large. She didn’t know enough of the creatures in Skyrim to make a guess though. 

“It’s nothing. Carry on.” Tullius’ voice brings her eyes back down from the mountains, and back to the Headsman’s block. Back to her execution, and not the mystery that was above them. 

The Captain calls for the Priestess to begin her prayer, and Julia prays soundlessly once more. For herself? For those she loves? She’s not quite sure anymore. One of the Stormcloaks walks forward, interrupting both prayers. “For the love of Talos, shut up, and let's get this over with.” She could respect that. They hadn’t been allowed their complete last rites, though she doubted that they would be executed twice if one of them had prayed to Talos. “Come on, I haven’t got all morning. My ancestors are smiling at me, Imperials. Can you say the same?” She knew that she was likely not included in that sentiment, but she couldn’t help but wonder. Could she?

After the headsman’s axe falls, some of the bystanders made their thoughts known; there were those calling him traitor, and those like Ralof that called him fearless. “Next, the renegade from Cyrodiil!” The renegade? The renegade? Julia doubted that anyone had ever referred to her as such, and it distracted her from the situation for a moment. It is interrupted once more though. The sound comes from the mountainside once more. But closer. It was louder. Whatever was making that sound was coming closer to Helgen. The soldier once more draws attention to it, but the Captain calls her forward. 

“To the block, prisoner. Nice and easy.” She moves forward, and Ralof once more meets her eyes. As she lowers herself down, her vision darkens once more. The leg she’d landed on ached as well. Neither pain would last much longer though. She closes her eyes as she sets her head on the block, and tries to empty her mind of every thought that was running through it. 

Before the axe could fall and connect with her neck, the execution falls into chaos. A large, black creature lands on the tower that looms above her. It seemingly called down a storm of fire and meteors from the heavens, hitting the ground and the people around them. One of them hits the headsman, and another lands next to the block, causing it to rise and knock her on the head. She rolls off of it and regrets the movement. Her head screams in pain and it takes her a moment to orient herself. 

“Hey, you! Julia! Get up! Come one, the gods won’t give us another chance!” Ralof was suddenly by her side, leading her into another tower across from the one that the dragon had landed on. Her ears ring, and it makes it hard to hear the chaos around them as they rush in, Stormcloak closing the heavy door behind them. “Jarl Ulfric! What is that thing? Could the legends be true?” 

“Legends don’t burn down villages. We need to move, now!” As they discuss the plans moving forward, one of the soldiers comes up and cuts the binds holding Julia’s hands. As the binds break and fall to the ground, she can feel her Magicka regenerate and flood her body. Thanking the soldier, her hands raised to her head, and she cast a simple healing spell on the source of her head wound. As the spell worked itself, the world stopped spinning around her and the ringing in her ears halted. She blinked and looked around the entrance room of the tower that they’d entered. 

Her eyes landed on two of the soldiers lying injured on the ground and she made her way over to them. As they argued about the next steps, Julia could help here. Her bag had been taken, so she didn’t have any healing potions she could supply, but she could use her magic to help them get back on their feet for the time being. 

The same soldier that had cut her binds came up to her with scavenged bandages and other supplies, and assisted her in applying them to the injured. It would be nice not to have to drain her Magicka completely while trying to help, especially since they may need to throw spells at the thing flying around the skies. The dragon? It was a terrifying thought. Julia pushed it to the back of her mind, she could follow that thought process later when everyone was out of immediate danger. 

Almost as if she’d summoned the thing, the ground shook and they could hear another one of the spine-chilling sounds coming from what felt like every direction. Ralof looked around the tower, panic clear on his face. Even after his outburst earlier, it was the least calm that she’d seen him through this whole ordeal. His eyes landed on her for a moment and his brows furled as he took in what she was doing. 

His attention went to the stairs and several emotions crossed his face. “Up through the tower! Let’s go! This way, Julia! Move!” The soldier and her helped the injured to their feet and began making their way up the stairs. Before they reached them though, her place was taken by one of their fellow Stormcloaks and she made her way to Ralof’s side. 

“We just need to move some of these rocks to clear the way!” Ralof and her rushed forward up the stairs to try and help, but they were interrupted by something crashing through the wall. The rocks that came down crushed the soldier, and the dragon’s face came into the tower through the hole that it’d created. 

Julia could barely hear Ralof over the sound of outside and the dragon seemed to speak, and then fire rained from its mouth. “Get back!” She threw up a ward just in time, shielding them as best she could, but they could still feel the heat coming from the fire it spat. It flew off nearly as quickly as it came. Ralof looked at her and a small smile came to his face. “Thank you.”

She claps his shoulder, returning his smile. “Of course.” They made their way to the hole in the wall, looking down at the town surrounding the foot of the tower and the destruction that had been waged on top of it. She turns to Ralof for whatever step he felt was best to take next. 

“See the inn on the other side?” She could, it would be quite a drop, but they could make it. “Jump through the roof and keep going!” Julia turned to Ralof and shook her head. She wasn’t just going to leave them. Not when they’d helped her. “Go! We’ll follow you when we can!” He nearly pushed her through the hole in the stone wall, but she jumped before he could. 

She rolls as she hits the floor of the top floor and looks back up at the tower. Fire and smoke obscure her view of where she has jumped from, and she waits for the next person to come crashing through into the building next to her. They do not come, and the ground shakes the building in a way that demands her to keep going. They’ll follow when they can. Ralof promised. The least she can do is try to make sure that the path is safe for them too. 

Julia climbs down the building through the large hole in the floor and exits it out the hole in the siding of the building. She takes in her surroundings, the destruction of Helgen had been hard and fast even with soldiers trying to kill the thing flying through the air and raining fire and meteors and other hell down on them from the heavens. A screech coming from the sky pushes her forward through the destruction. 

As the smoke grows thicker and thicker, she can only hope that she’s moving forward and not back towards the tower that she’d jumped from. Can only hope that she won’t come across the dragon as it swoops through the town raining down destruction. 

“Haming! Haming!” Voices flicker louder and louder as she moves ever closer, and the scene that unfolds from the smoke as she does makes her heart stop in her chest. The child she’d seen earlier speaking with his father was standing over what she could only assume was his father, clearly frozen in fear. The dragon’s shadow comes overhead, and Julia acts before she can even think to, running for the child and grabbing him into her arms in just enough time for the beast to land in front of them. 

Her eyes meet the dragon’s, and a shiver runs down her spine. The red of its eyes feeling like death had come for them all. And it might have. She runs with the boy, crying now into her neck, throwing up another ward just in time for the dragon to throw more fire at them. Arms grab her, pulling her behind a destroyed building, and she drops the ward once the dragon takes off again. 

“Still alive, prisoner? Keep close to me if you want it to stay that way. Gunnar, take care of the boy.” She nearly drops the boy as he shakes. 

“No! I wanna stay with you!” The boy, Haming her mind supplies, clutches her shoulders tighter in a way that she can’t be good for his hands pushing into the metal of her armor. 

“It might be best for us to stay together. At least until we can find somewhere safer.” The man who’d been crouched in the corner, Gunnar nods and gets up to follow along. 

The list maker sighs, looking at the three of them, and turns to look where the dragon has left behind. “Alright. I have to find General Tullius and join the defense. You can figure out where best to go after that.” Julia nods and pats the poor boy on the back. She focuses on shielding his face from the corpse of his father as they pass. He’d seen enough of it for his lifetime. Aetherius knows that she had at his age. 

Their little group follows after the soldier, taking cover by a wall as the dragon descends again, raining more fire at them. “Quickly! Follow me!” They duck through another destroyed building and come out to where most of the Imperial soldiers must have been firing arrows and spells at the thing as it flew through Helgen. Ahead of them, near the front and center of the fighting is General Tullius. 

“Hadvar! Into the keep, soldier, we’re leaving!” For a moment his eyes meet hers and then go to the child she’s carrying and the man following after them. He nods her in that direction too, as if she is one of his soldiers to command and not a woman he’d almost executed mere minutes ago. She follows the command though, following Hadvar through the rubble and into the courtyard of the Keep, eyes scanning for any of the Stormcloaks she’d seen before, hoping that any one of them would appear. And almost as if a prayer had been answered, Ralof appears from the other side.

“Ralof! You damned traitor, out of my way!” The venom in Hadvar’s voice is clear, adding only to what is a small amount of context of their relationship that she can only assume would fill in pages of a book. 

Her friend is quick to return that venom though, “We’re escaping Hadvar! You’re not stopping us this time!” Ralof’s brows furl at her arms holding Haming and over her shoulder where Gunnar is standing. 

“Fine! I hope that dragon takes you all to Sovngarde!” Wait, what does Hadvar mean by that? Splitting up now would mean death for them. She adjusts Haming in her grip, shoving his weight entirely onto one arm. 

“Julia, come on! Into the keep!” They’re both insane. Or stupid. Or both. 

“With me, prisoner! Let’s go! Come on! We need to get inside!” 

“Are you both insane?” Julia’s voice comes out far stronger than she’d thought it would, given the circumstances. “The dragon currently circling above us circumvents the damned war. Get in the keep!” 

She heads for the door to the left of the building that Hadvar had been heading towards, grabbing Ralof’s shoulder with her open hand on the way there. Ralof looks at her confusedly as he opens the door for her, allowing himself to be pushed inside what she can only hope is a safe harbor.  She hears Gunnar chuckle slightly, smoke inhalation making it rougher, and he pushes Hadvar in behind them.

Julia can only hope that getting them to work together becomes easier from here as she hears the large door shut loudly behind them.

#julia kynadora lastblood #kynadora #skyrim #helgen

[alastairstom]

In ur HC, what novels and fandoms would AU Modern day, Historical TSC be into rn?

Follow up, if each of them had a Tumblr , what would their blogs about be and why?

I'm just going to do my favourite characters, hope that's alright!

MATTHEW

Tumblr handle: @/wilde-wanderer. He posts travel content and dog pics a lot, and there's a lot of crossover with his travel Instagram. He also is in the Oscar Wilde fandom for sure and posts a ton of Ben Barnes thirst traps (@belle-keys, thinking of you).

5 books he'd love, because he's a romance and fantasy lover like me (queer books are blue):

The Charm of Magpies seriously. It's got Wildean weird vibes and also is just genuinely an oddball series unlike any other.

Don't Want You Like a Best Friend by Emma Alban (this is NEW btw and incredibly good, an immediate favourite

By Any Other Name by Erin Cotter

The Adventures of Amina Al-Sirafi by Shannon Chakraborty

The Carnivale of Curiousities by Aimee Gibbs

ALASTAIR

If he had Tumblr, I think his handle would be @/grumpycatcarstairs. But he'd post minimally and just let it sit and sit forever. Periodically, Thomas would remind him it exists. He'd just post aesthetic paintings and cPTSD content.

5 books he'd love, because he likes mysteries and philosophical works that make him think:

The Six of Crows duology by Leigh Bardugo

The Scythe trilogy by Neal Shusterman

The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins

The Sins of the Cities series by KJ Charles

Not really modern, but after his time. I think Maurice by EM Forster would hit him hard in the solar plexus.

THOMAS

His handle is @/thomas-the-tree. He's a pretty active Tumblrina and he posts a lot of his own content, mostly aesthetics and moodboards. Maybe some stimboards ala @caterpillarstims. He also posts a lot of positivity for people with mental illness.

5 books he'd love because he loves both action and comfort literature:

The Sum of All Kisses by Julia Quinn

Two Rogues Make a Right by Cat Sebastian

The Heartstopper comics by Alice Oseman

A Lady for a Duke by Alexis Hall

Stalking Jack the Ripper series by Kerri Maniscalco

CORDELIA

I am of the strong belief that her handle would be @/kickitwithcordy and she'd have a sideblog for Cortana pics called @/kickitwithcortana. She and Alastair would also have a joint blog called @/kickitwiththecarstairs, but it's mostly on YouTube and they just have gossip videos. There's a full one where they roast Matthew's famous travel Insta.

5 books she'd love about kickass women:

Girl, Serpent, Thorn by Melissa Bashardoust

A Stitch in Time by Kelley Armstrong

The Divine Rivals duology by Rebecca Ross

Innocent Traitor by Alison Weir

The Rhapsodic series by Laura Thalassa

James, of course, always reads them aloud to her even when they're not to his personal taste. <3

#matthew fairchild #alastair carstairs #thomas lightwood #cordelia carstairs

[saintlike78]

Forever an artist [B.B]

· · ───────── ·𖥸· ──────── · ·

Navigation

Pairings: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!wife!reader

Words: 2k

Request/Summary: “Benedict teaching wife reader how to pleasure herself & he’s drawing her while teaching her”

Warnings: NSFW 16+, fingering, guided masterbation, fluffy, Benedict being a simp. As always lmk if I missed anything.

· · ───────── ·𖥸· ──────── · ·

The soft sounds of the city waking travelled in from the open window, along with the warm morning breeze that ruffled the curtains.

More often than not you found that sleeping completely bare was very appreciated by your husband, who often rewarded the action as he was now - by muffling your breathy sounds with his lips and moving his hand between your open thighs.

Benedict lay completely against you on his side, his prominent bulge resting against your leg that was thrown over and in between his own to keep you open for him. Your breath caught in your throat and your eyes fluttered with each pump of his skilled fingers in your weeping cunt and pass of his thumb on your clit.

“Benedict,” you moaned into his mouth, muffled by his tongue dancing with your own.

A low groan escaped him, from feeling your cunt squeeze his fingers. A small drop of pre-cum dribbled down and onto your thigh; you couldn’t help but moan at the feeling of his hips moving with stuttering thrusts - barely even noticeable - along with the movement of his fingers.

His lips parted from yours, pulling back slightly to take in the look of bliss on your face. Benedict always loved to admire you - your slightly parted mouth and your lust-filled eyes, still somewhat heavy with sleep. He believed that he could cum just by looking at you, if he didn’t have any self-control - which he often didn’t - only with you.

“How I wish to capture this look forever,” Benedict mused, moving his fingers in just the right way to achieve the look of pleasure blown out in your eyes. He rubbed a slow hand along your hair, only slightly obstructed by holding himself up enough to look down at you.

He slowed his movements, wishing to draw out the morning for as long as possible, wanting to watch you squirm on the mattress, to listen to the angelic sounds fall from your puffy lips. Just as he was about to allow you to slip over the desirable edge an idea came to him, stopping his movements. You whined, nuzzling into his soft chest tears brimming in your eyes.

“But,” you frowned, muffled by his chest, voice almost breaking by a sob of discontent.

“I apologize, my darling - please no tears,” Benedict cooed, guiding your face from his chest, feeling somewhat guilty for the unshed tears that lay on your waterline.

“Why did you stop?” You pouted, moving yourself even more against him as the dull ache in your abdomen made you clench around air.

“You see, my sweet, I wish to draw you.”

“Now?” You cocked your head, raising a confused brow.

Benedict chuckled lightly, “yes, now. This face, this look… I must keep it forever.”

You didn’t give any protest except for a small whine when Benedict crawled out of bed and the cool air met your body; you watched as he quickly stumbled into a pair of loose trousers before moving back to you. Scooping you out from beneath the covers he helped you to your feet and into one of his loose billowy shirts, covering your dignity before he could haul you through the house and into his study.

You pouted up at him, clearly still upset at your husband for stealing your orgasm from you.

“Do not give me that look, sweetheart… I promise you’ll feel good in a bit,” Benedict promised with a soft smile before wrapping his arms around you, “now, up you get.”

With a nod you jumped into his arms, letting him carry you through the house. Your face instantly fell into the crook of his neck, inhaling his intoxicating scent and trying to ignore the prying eyes of the household staff.

Benedict slowly eased you onto the loveseat that stood in front of his easel - purposely placed for you to read when he painted, but for this morning it served another purpose.

“Alright, my love… let us get this off,” Benedict murmured, his eyes soft as he looked at you and helped his shirt off of your body, leaving you nude before him once again.

“Benedict, how am I to feel good if you are to be over there drawing?“ you questioned, rubbing a soft hand over his chest.

He gave you a soft look, caressing your cheek. You nuzzled into the gentle touch, closing your eyes and releasing a long breath.

“You are to touch yourself and make yourself feel good.”

Your eyes opened in surprise, looking at him with interest and uncertainty. Suddenly you felt rather bashful, your eyes failing to meet his adoring gaze, “I do not know how.”

Benedict gently guided your gaze to his, smiling with nothing but love and adoration, “I will teach you.”

An exaggerated pout pulled at your lips, your hands scratching lightly at his chest, “but I want you.”

“I know, my girl… - I swear that I will make it up to you, but for now let me draw this beautiful face,” Benedict cooed, swiping a thumb over your pouting lips before giving them a small peck.

“- now, lay back… just like that… and allow me your hand,” Benedict guided, smiling when your head hit the soft pillow and you allowed your dominant hand to slip into his.

Slowly he let it run down and over your body, letting you feel your own soft skin under your fingertips with Benedict’s large hand right on top.

“Do you feel what I feel?” Benedict whispered as your fingers traced over your stomach, inching closer and closer to your sensitive cunt.

Your head lazily moved with a nod, your focus on Benedict’s face as he watched your hand closely, a grin breaking out on his already gleeful face when your legs parted without prompt.

A small gulp caught in your throat when your fingers lightly glided over your aching clit, the smallest amount of stimulation making you gasp.

“You remember how I touch you… remember how it feels, do you not?”

Again, you nodded and whimpered, “I do.”

“Excellent, my darling,” Benedict grinned, leaning forward to smear a kiss over your perspiring forehead, “move your fingers in small circles here in this spot.”

You do as he says, body tensing from your own touch, your body so sensitive after the denied release not even fifteen minutes earlier. Benedict’s touch lightened from your hand, letting it hover above yours as you moved your fingers as he had instructed - trying to mimic his usual movements.

“Go slow, sweetheart, enjoy it and let me hear you,” he slowly moved away from you to stand by his easel, looking back and forth from you to his charcoal - fishing everything out with rushed movements.

Breathy sounds escaped your slightly parted lips as you continued to draw circles. Your face felt incredibly hot, the heat of your slight embarrassment travelling up your spine and neck to warm your cheeks.

“Look at me, sweet girl, allow me see that face,” Benedict instructed; the faint sounds of the scraping of his pencil bouncing around the study.

Your hooded eyes landed on him; his shirtless figure, muscles moving with his movements on the paper, his glorious hands - already somehow covered in charcoal - it truly was a sight to behold and you couldn’t keep in the desperate moan that escaped you.

“Please, may I go faster?” you whimpered, fingers twitching to up their movement.

Benedict chuckled slightly, “of course… but try moving your fingers further down and tell me what you feel.”

Benedict watched intently when you did as you were told. He was sure if he asked you to show him your fingers they would be glistening with your arousal; he could feel his cock straining in his trousers at the mere thought of you dripping onto the velvety loveseat.

“It is so wet, Ben,” you moaned softly, feeling your own arousal coat your fingers.

A groan rumbled from Benedict’s throat, the movements on the paper pausing, drawing a breath to compose himself.

“Amazing, darling…-now, remember how I use my fingers inside of you?”

You whined, redirecting your eyes to the floor out of embarrassment, but gave a subtle nod and an almost inaudible ‘yes’.

“Do as I would do, my love, use two fingers and use your other hand to rub your sensitive spot in time with those pretty fingers of yours.”

A gasp fell from you when you let two of your fingers slip into your needy entrance - doing as Benedict said and letting your other hand fall down above it to rub at your clit as you did before. The movements were sloppy and unpracticed; it was almost frustrating to try and please yourself when you knew how much better it felt when it was Benedict’s long fingers working on your cunt instead of your own - your own fingers barely reached the places that made it feel like floating. But you kept going because it’s what Benedict wished and it still felt amazing, even more so when you watched Benedict draw in deep breaths when his focus faltered when he let his gaze travel up and down your body instead of drawing. You could tell how he willed himself to speed up the process of his art every time a lewd moan slipped past your kiss swollen lips and a squelch sounded from your fingers moving in and out of you.

“Benedict,” you moaned, getting lost in the way his body moved, the rise and fall of his chest with every breath. God - the way his tongue would lick over his lips to wet them. Your own mouth seemed to go dry from the sight.

“You will tell me when you are close, my darling,” he said - although his voice worked closer to sounding like a grunt.

You whimpered and nodded, “I am close.”

The movement of your hands was growing more frantic and sloppy, working your untrained fingers on your cunt to work you closer to the sweet blissful feeling of release.

“Good job, love… you are doing fantastic,” Benedict praised with a proud smile, wanting nothing more to release himself from his trousers and relieve the ache in his cock.

“Ben, I cannot hold it,” you moaned, shutting your eyes tight as your body tensed, trying to hold back the inevitable.

“You need not hold it… just look at me,” he ordered.

Willing your eyes to open - trying to suppress the flutter of them as you continued your movements - the squelching grew louder and louder, along with your laboured breaths and loud moans.

Your cunt clenched around your own fingers and suddenly you understood what Benedict felt - the pulsing feeling around yourself as you came with a moan of your husband's name. Your legs tensed and closed around your hands even when you tried to keep them open; you tried moving your fingers on your clit for as long as you could stand to before the sensation was too sensitive.

“There you are, my love,” Benedict purred before dropping his pencil and rushing to your side.

His charcoal covered fingers grabbed your face, forcing your hazy gaze upon his pride-filled face. You were too blissed out to care about the greyish black smear that decorated your cheeks when you were too busy focusing on Benedict’s lips as they met yours in a deep kiss.

“You did an amazing job, my dear,” Benedict whispered when his lips parted from yours to allow you to draw a much-needed breath. His thumbs caressed your cheeks gently.

“Thank you,” you whispered back with a bashful and dazed smile, “did you finish the drawing?”

“I did,” he answered, a smirk twitching at the corner of his lips.

“Are you content?” You spoke lowly, sitting up slightly to wrap your arms around his neck and bury yourself in his warmth.

His arms held you in a tight embrace, his fingers tracing softly up your back, “absolutely.”

· · ───────── ·𖥸· ──────── · ·

A/n: to be notified of future writing follow @saintlike78slibrary and turn on notifications

#benedict bridgerton fluff #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton one shot #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x y/n #benedict bridgerton #julia’s sin posts

[blushinmoon]

OC Name Meaning

Got tagged by @champagne-pain! Thank youuu 💕 I’ll tag @heirhonkful

Rules: Google and post the meaning of your OC’S name (if you made their name up or they go by a nickname, post an explanation of how it came to you)! bonus if you can find something for their last name too.

More under the cut 💕

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Selene/Sin Everafter

She/He/They ⟡ Gender Fluid ⟡ Pansexual ⟡ Polyamorous

Selene is a girl's name of Greek origin, meaning "the moon." Lunar lovers and night-sky stargazers will delight in this luminous name. Just like the moon, Selene has a calming, soothing effect, with a hint of mystique and wonder about it.

Sin in Mesopotamian mythology holds great significance and importance. It was the name of the moon God in Akkadian (1), and the given name is thought to have been derived from His title. On the other hand, in Burmese, Sin is a gender-neutral name meaning 'clean' and 'pure.

Ever after is a phrase that means "from this on." It often appears in the phrase happily ever after, a conventional ending for fairy tales associated with lasting love.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Exodus Eryx Tartarus

He/Him ⟡ Cis Male ⟡ Bisexual ⟡ Polyamorous

Exodus is the Latin translation of the Greek exodos, meaning “exit” or “departure”.

Tartarus, the infernal regions of ancient Greek mythology. The name was originally used for the deepest region of the world, the lower of the two parts of the underworld, where the gods locked up their enemies.

Eryx is of Greek origin and is derived from the name of a mountain in western Sicily. In Greek mythology, Eryx was also the name of a king and boxer who was defeated by Hercules.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Apollo Tsukiyomi Everafter

He/Him ⟡ Cis Male ⟡ Pansexual ⟡ Polyamorous

Apollo has been recognized as a god of archery, music and dance, truth and prophecy, healing and diseases, the Sun and light, poetry, and more.

Tsukiyomi (ツキヨミ), is the moon god in Japanese mythology and the Shinto religion. The name "Tsukuyomi" is a compound of the Old Japanese words tsuku (月, "moon, month", becoming modern Japanese tsuki) and yomi (読み, "reading, counting").

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Axel & Julie Tartarus

Julie ⟡ She/Her ⟡ Cis Girl

Axel ⟡ He/Him ⟡ Cis Boy ⟡ Bisexual

Axel is an Icelandic name meaning "father of peace." Axel, which also has origins in Scandinavia, Denmark, and Germany, is derived from the biblical Hebrew name Absalom. Whether he goes on to become a famous rock star or not, one thing is for sure: baby Axel will certainly take center stage in any doting parent's life! (Ironic considering Axel’s mom hated his little ass)

Julie is a popular Latin first name which originally comes from the Latin Julia which could mean youthful, soft-haired, beautiful or vivacious. It is the feminine form of Julius, and can be a pet form of Julia, Yulie, or Juliette. Julie.

#oc art #monster lover #artists on tumblr #art #monster x human #comic #monster romance #monster fucker #original character #oc #oc doodles #story

[diogenes-blorbos]

ok i forgot to send an ask until now but! tell me abt manoja! what's the meaning behind his name/how did he (or you) pick it? what's his career route and what's his villainsona? infamy? what stats does he favour ? specialisations (fighter/tactician, streetwise/techsavvy)? anything else you wanna share that isn't covered by one of the other questions? XD

Hi! Thanks for the ask.

Manoja Joshi is a desi trans guy and stands at 5’ 5”, has green eyes, and black hair that becomes slightly wavy if allowed to grow out. His body could be described as… stout? Think ‘precursor to a dadbod’ and you’ll have a pretty accurate idea of what he looks like. In his Sidestep years, he was thinner and didn’t look nearly as tired as he appears post-Heartbreak. Since Anathema’s death, Manoja has become a drinker, for his sins. He has always been a smoker. Manoja dresses in mostly black, grey and very dark blue athletic wear, like a teenage boy who shops exclusively from JD Williams.

His puppet is a mixed race, brown-eyed, freckle-faced man called Joey. He wears his hair in long locs, usually tied back off of his face, and, his body is tall and lithe bc Manoja keeps him in shape via boxing. Joey is everything Manoja wishes he was, and so, when slipping into his puppet’s skin, Manoja is simultaneously at his most authentic, and totally different in personality. Joey is friendlier, smoother and flirtier.

Manoja’s first name is a little nod to his psychic abilities! Manoja means "born of the mind" in Sanskrit. He chose the name after realising he was trans. At first, cross-dressing as a guy was purely a disguising tactic, but he figured out pretty quickly that he felt more complete living as a man. I’ve never considered what his deadname might’ve been, but that doesn’t matter, I guess; Manoja’s a pro at reinventing himself, whether that is via changing his name and pronouns, slipping his consciousness into a puppet body or by creating/destroying personas.

Speaking of personas, Mannie’s villainsona is called Innominate, so it’s probably not going to surprise you when I tell you that his stats very much leans towards anonymity rather than pursuing infamy. Manoja is also very cautious (paranoid) and likes to eliminate risk wherever possible. He is very logic driven, and is a tech-savvy tactician, above all else. For that reason, Manoja wouldn’t rule out killing if he needed to, though he does his best to keep deaths to a minimum, as he still sways towards being an empathetic person. He considers that to be his biggest weakness (it really isn’t- that would actually be his own insecurities), and is why he, unsuccessfully, tries to keep some semblance of distance between himself and Ortega. Needless to say, that isn’t going so well for him as of Retribution, as Manoja spent the night with her, and Julia then chose to break things off with Joey. Manoja has also become “friends” with Steel (they sit and brood in silence together while they watch Spoon run around the dog park) and he has a bit of a soft-spot for Los Diablos’ Biggest SideStep superfan, Herald.

Picrew:

#manoja joshi #fhr sidestep #fhr ortega #fhr innominate #Thanks for letting me talk about my boy(s) #Fhr manoja

[gaslightgallows]

2024 TBR Pile of Good Intentions

(crossposted to Patreon)

This year’s TBR pile looks very much like last year’s (hence the reused banner image) but last year was also a shitshow so I’m giving myself a do-over. Although looking back, I did actually manage to read two (2) of the books on last year’s list! I even wrote about How to Live Like a Monk for my patrons! The other one was Mexican Gothic… Y’know, I should really write about Mexican Gothic…

Lion’s Paw Reads: (aka books I’m planning to do patron content about)

Orlando, by Virginia Woolf

A Haunted History of Invisible Women: True Stories of America’s Ghosts, by Leanna Renee Hieber and Andrea Janes

The Haunting of Alma Fielding, by Kate Summerscale

The Octagon House: A Home for All, by Orson Squire Fowler

Other Reads (Fiction):

Our Wives Under the Sea, by Julia Armfield

The Ladies of Grace Adieu and Other Stories, by Susana Clarke

Radiance, by Catherynne M. Valente

Gideon the Ninth, by Tamsin Muir

Piranesi, by Susanna Clarke

The City We Became, by N.K. Jemison

Nothing but Blackened Teeth, by Cassandra Khaw

The Story of Silence, Alex Myers

A Psalm for the Wild-Built, by Becky Chambers

Viriconium, by M. John Harrison

Queer Little Nightmares: An Anthology of Monstrous Fiction and Poetry, Edited by David Ly & Daniel Zomparelli

What Moves the Dead, by T. Kingfisher *I actually finished this last week!

Phantastes: A Faerie Romance, by George MacDonald

Other Reads (Non-Fiction):

City of Sin, by Catherine Arnold

The Mutual Admiration Society, by Mo Moulton

Monster, She Wrote, by Lisa Kröger and Melanie R. Anderson

The Gilded Edge, by Catherine Prendergast

Dickensland, by Lee Jackson

I might also do posts on some of these other books, provided I get to/through them. If you’re at all interested in my thoughts on this assemblage of horror, fantasy, scifi, and very niche historical non-fiction, I hope you’ll consider subscribing and telling me what else I should be reading!

#patreon #reading #research #tbr pile #i am hopeful about this list

[hookedtheghoul]

“We might get Evilhausen! But how?”

I’ll tell you how. First things first: This leans on Sonny The Jobber’s video The Dark Fathers Curse... Malakai Black Mist Theory (AEW). Watching it is not mandatory but still advised if you are not familiar with Malakai Black’s character or the black mist. Also yes. This will be a long one. Stretch a little, unclench your jaw, and top up your beverage of choice.

Danhausen, in all his adorkable glory, is a flawed character. He is very nice, very evil, and he has pointed out himself how he is very nice only because no one roots for someone who is just evil. And why does he want people to root for him? Danhausen’s main motivation is greed and his end goal is world domination through wealth. He is the – thinly disguised – embodiment of this cardinal sin.

(One day I will probably expand all this towards Hook, who could make a heel turn and become the cold-hearted handsome devil he’s described as – fun fact: the demon associated with the cardinal sin of pride? Lucifer.)

I couldn’t begin to explain the genius that is the character of Malakai Black, so at this point, if you haven’t already, watch Sonny the Jobber’s video linked in the beginning of this post. It goes into detail on how the character came to be and how it has evolved into what it is today. What I want to add to this theory is that not only is Black able to use the black mist, but the other House of Black members are capable of doing so as well, and it seems to retain its corrupting effect. From this we can gather that even now that Black himself is absent, the black mist can be utilized by the other members – it is clear that the House still exists without its leader.

As per Sonny The Jobber’s video, the effects of the black mist depend on the life one has led up to that point. While we can all agree that until now the modern version of Danhausen has been a relatively harmless comic relief character, there is a high chance the mist would still affect him. First of all, he is, or is possessed by, a demon. The exact nature of this demon is debatable – Danhausen refers to himself as a ghoul, but doesn’t present himself as such (they are known to feast on human flesh, and we haven’t seen evidence or even allusion to this). He also uses ghoul and demon interchangeably, and while ghouls are demon-like creatures, it is not clear whether or not they are truly the same. (I would love to pick Donovan’s brain on this one).

Secondly, there is an intriguing example of what the mist does to a person who has seemingly led a virtuous life before being exposed to it: Julia Hart. Sonny The Jobber points out that Hart may have been envious of the Varsity Blonds’ success versus her own role as a mere cheerleader for them (funnily enough, some of their attire during this time was green – the color heavily associated with envy). These negative feelings festering under the bubbly and preppy facade allowed Hart to turn heel and join the House of Black.

While Hart’s emotions and motivations were hidden, Danhausen is absolutely, unapologetically motivated by greed. All he does or says (or doesn’t say, such as swearing) stems from this. I would argue that even him becoming allies with Hook was motivated by greed: Danhausen started pestering him after “Send Hook” became a phenomenon. And while we can sit here and list reasons why them becoming a tag team, even if for a moment, was ultimately a good thing (Hook’s face turn and the chance to prove his skills to stop people from referring to him merely as Taz’s son, Danhausen’s fame, them beating the hell out of Tony Nese and Mark Sterling, etc.), there was a sinister hidden undertone to all of this from the beginning.

On May 12 on Twitter, after Hook shook his hand, Danhausen wrote: “Danhausen won”. We were intrigued by this for a moment, but did we ever actually stop and wonder “Won what? Won how? How much of this did he plan in advance and why?” No. Not for long, anyway, nor seriously enough. We were captured by the Hookhausen train (the best train, don’t @ me) and forgot Danhausen’s comment so fast it’s not even funny. His very nice persona had us fooled and made us forget that there even is the very evil. What was it that some of these wrestles have been saying? The greatest trick the Devil ever pulled was convincing the world he didn’t exist.

Danhausen has tried to rub shoulders with several stables throughout his run in the AEW, more or less successfully. He has also showed interest in the House of Black on Twitter as early as January this year. He must have realized by now that one does not simply walk into the House, nor do I personally think he would be as bold as to ask/demand them to mist him – or to become allies with them outright. If this is something he wants to happen, he would plan it very carefully to look like an accident.

Let me paint you a picture. September 23, Grand Slam, New York City. Darby Allin and Sting face the House of Black. This is supposed to be a two-on-two match, but Julia Hart will most likely be there as well. This puts the Allin and Sting in a precarious situation, as they have to split their focus between possibly three opponents instead of the guaranteed two. Enter the surprise, the wild card, the equalizer. Danhausen. Always ready to spread chaos wherever he goes. Assuming that cursing a member of the House would not work, he would settle for the next best distraction tactic: the groin punch. This would not end well for anyone else. But Danhausen, the (seemingly) bumbling idiot, would not register as a high-level threat on the House members’ radar, so their attack on him would be halfhearted at best. Whatever they do, Danhausen won’t like it. Even less so, if there are swears thrown around. So he would retaliate, which would cause whichever member of the House he is facing to shred him to pieces. Only this time Danhausen refuses to give up, lie down, and take it. He has been undermined, underappreciated, underbooked. He. Is. Done. And he takes it all out on the House who are at their wit’s end with this nuisance who has gone a full-on terrier-mode on them. It is, in a way… impressive? There could be some hidden potential laying dormant within this demon. If only they could unlock it and harness it. And they could...

I entertained another option before realizing how self-centered Danhausen actually is, but there is a chance it would not have worked. This option would have seen Danhausen sacrificing himself, pushing away someone (Hook? Orange Cassidy? Darby Allin?) about to get their eyes full of black mist. But would the mist be able to corrupt someone acting so selflessly? Perhaps – we have seen it work on people with a lot less negative baggage. But as long as we have no way of knowing the ins and outs of the black mist as well as Malakai Black, there is no telling whether or not this would work.

Looking at the stories AEW has told so far, I highly doubt they would ever make something of this caliber happen – especially with a character like Danhausen, who they don’t seem to realize the potential of. This is merely the way I would do it as a writer, if I wanted Danhausen to turn heel in a manner that would not only make sense in kayfabe but also have potential to grow into something bigger in the future. How could someone who is seemingly a minor player trick the House of Black? How would the friends Danhausen has made react? Has he even made friends, or has he only been using everyone around him?

(If TK or anyone working for the AEW ever reads this (as if, but one can dream): I’m available, and due to being an amateur, I’d be cheap, too. If you want high-impact story lines delving into human psyche and morality, hit me up. I can make painful things hurt even more!)

#AEW #Danhausen #Malakai Black #House of Black #Hookhausen