#necklace patern

[innko]

it is absolutely not in the budget but i really would like some fine jewelry that doesn’t have any loaded meaning attached to it

#i have one ring i bought for myself as a uni student for around $100 but it was lower quality than i thought #one of the cz crystals fell off #and i have another i got really cheap at a thrift store but is fairly decent quality #and a moderately decent quality one from my grandma ~ 10 years ago #but the real fine jewelry i have is a cross necklace from my paternal grandfather and it has all sorts of complicated emotions attached #and also a ring that my mom got from her first husband then gave to me #also full of complex emotions #i wish i had something that nice that i just bought myself joyfully with my own money #or was given to me purely out of love no confusion no difficult feelings #innko talks

[chaoticwholesome]

.

#not a super venty post but. one of my big regrets after my grandparents passed was that i didnt get to keep her star of david necklace #my family would have thought it suspect if i wanted that but not the crucifix jewelry #christianity has never felt comfortable to me and ive been agnostic for years but like #yeah idk man i'd love to connect with my jewish roots a bit more? sadly my entire living family is christian #and i have no idea when my paternal grandmother or her mother converted to xtianity #just gonna slowly keep doing my reading about judaism but if anyone has recs for Babys First Jewish stories/research im happy to hear it! #(childrens media recs encouraged)

[kanekisfavoritegf]

Paranoia

Click here! For Pt. 1 : SHAMELESS

This actually took forever cause of my hiatus and severe writers block so I'm super sorry :((

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI you will be blocked!🩷

Warnings: Smut, BJ, face fucking Cucking, rough sex, kinda deranged Sukuna, breading, hate sex, voyeurism, exhibitionist, mentions of prior infidelity. Sukuna x reader x toji??? (more in the first part)

Sukuna had been living in a state of paranoia.

Ever since your son had been born, he’d been taking notice of how different they looked.

He wouldn’t say anything to you. Not until three months in when one day at work…

He was in Toji’s office going over some business plans for a big upcoming merger. He was about to leave when his eyes flicked to a framed photo on his desk. His heart dropped for a second before rising once again to its rightful place when he realised it was a baby photo of Megumi, circa 2003.

“Your son?” He nodded to the image.

Toji smirked a little before nodding, “Yeah, he is now four, about to be five in a few weeks. Time really goes by fast.”

“He looks exactly like you.”

“Yeah, he always has, even when he was a newborn.” Toji fought off the incoming smirk.

Sukuna’s brain clogs were slowly turning as he pierced everything together. Anger simmered in his blood.

“Cute runt.”

“How old’s your kid now anyway, Ryo? Like two months?”

“Three.”

“Cute.” Tojis said not really caring to look up from his screen.

Half an hour after Sukuna left his office, he felt his eye twitch every other minute. It was like there was a devil on both his shoulders. One telling him to get a paternity test and kick you to the curb, the other telling him to call you to his office and make you suck his dick until he wasn't angry at you anymore.

Option one would definitely solve his paranoia, but he would lose you. And Sukuna refuses to give up his favourite treasures, especially not to Toji of all people. He’d rather kill you than have him call you his wife.

Totally very sane.

So option two it is.

When Sukuna’s assistant called telling you to come, with no explanation. You honestly felt the air leave your lungs. You knew he knew, and he knew that you knew that he knew. But none of you acknowledged it. You don’t know why.

You had a plan the day Toji left your house the morning after you two defiled every single wall in yours and Sukuna’s shared home. You planned to leave your husband and start a new life. But then it hit you. Guilt like no other. A guilt that had left you crying for half the week and drinking for the rest.

Upon your husband's arrival, he pulled you into his embrace, covering your face with kisses and shoving an expensive bouquet your way and a diamond necklace in his briefcase. His form of apologising was gift-giving. Along with eating you out right there on the floor, until, you had made a mess of his face.

How could you leave him after one measly fight? How could you cheat on him after a small hiccup in the relationship? This was your marriage and you acted like a complete whore. You let temporary emotions and anxiety take control of your vagina and like a shark smelling blood you raced your way to the closest dick you could find.

And everything just went down hill after you found out you were pregnant. The anxiety of finding out who was the father killed you. You spent many tearful nights hoping your child’s face would grow to resemble your husband more. But that wasn't the case. So you did your best to be the perfect wife and stay in his good graces, for how could you lose the love of your life?

So there you stood, at the door of the meeting room knocking softly at its smooth wood. You fiddled with your hair and straightened out your dress as you waited for your husband's response.

“Come in.” The voice was deep, like your husband's but its specific rasp had you hesitating as you turned the door knob.

“Hi, sweetheart.” The scar on his mouth twisted with his smile. He looked overjoyed to be here. And you couldn’t be any more annoyed at him.

“Why are you here?” Your voice was laced with annoyance.

“Baby, that’s not how you greet people.”

“Don’t call me baby Toji.”

“You’ve been avoiding me.” He stated, eyes piercing yours.

“So?”

“So, you have my kid-”

“Could you keep it down!” You slammed the door shut behind you, hoping no one overheard. “Sukuna is the father, not you.”

“You have MY kid, Y/N, my kid, and you don’t talk to me. You barely even look at me.”

“Because I have a HUSBAND and a life I want.” You shook your head at him.

“That’s not what you said last year.”

“Is that why you called me here? To try and convince me to leave my husband?”

“He is here because I invited him.” You jumped from your position. Turning to face your husband with a shocked face.

“Ryomen.” You put on your best smile, trying to keep it together as you stare at him; paying no mind to the growing grim expression of your past lover, or for better words, past mistake.

“My love.” He smiled with a twinkle of something dangerous in his eyes.

“Why did you invite him here?” You watched as he locked the door behind him, closing all the curtains and stalking down the long table passed all the empty chairs. Until he reached the end. The CEO’s chair.

He sat himself down and looked at you, raising his eyebrow until you got the hint, and hurried your cute self onto his lap.

“Hello, my wife.” His head pressed into your neck roughly, taking in the scent of you. “God, you smell amazing.”

“Sukuna, Toji is here.” You sighed out dreamily as Sukuna busied himself with kissing your neck.

“You are truly a shameless slut.” You froze in your movements.

“What?” Your voice shook.

“Oh, I was talking to Toji, but I guess it can apply to you too.” Your heart had now dropped to the pits of your stomach. Was this it? Was this the end of your marriage?

“Sukuna wai-”

“Shut up.”

“Ryomen, please.” His hands grasped your hair tightly, moving you off of his lap and onto the floor. All the while, Toji watched with a smile on his face. This was it for him. The moment in which Sukuna would kick you to the curb and let him have you. At least, that’s what he thought.

“Suck my dick.” Sukuna didn’t even give you time to process what he demanded, because as soon as your mouth was open he plunged his length down your throat. Groaning at the feeling of your immediate gags. You begged him to kick Toji out with your eyes, pleading for privacy as he used you.

“You know, I watched the clips of you screwing my wife over and over.” Your husband's attention was fully on Toji now, as held on to your hair. Staring him down as Toji watched on, not giving a response to Sukuna’s obvious attempt to get to him.

“You made it seem like they were erased, but I only had to put in a little effort to find the security camera's videos on your hard drive.”

His hand guided the movements of your head so roughly, tears already streamed down your face.

“If I didn’t want you to find them, Sukuna, I wouldn’t have let you.” Toji finally gave a response back.

“Now, now. Is that any way to talk to your boss?” He tutted at him. Smiling at the growing annoyance on Toji’s face.

“The one mistake you made wasn’t fucking my wife, or trying to take my child.” He scoffed at him. “It was thinking I’d ever let my wife go.” Sukuna had pulled his now fully erect cock out of your mouth and slapped it against your tear-stained cheeks. You used this time to breathe and rest as he assaulted your face with more slaps. But this reprieve didn't last long, as he was plunging back into your mouth as he continued talking to Toji.

“You what? Thought I didn’t know she was a whore the day I married her?” You couldn't help but moan at your husband's words, rubbing yourself down onto his shining shoe. “I mean just look at her, humping my leg like a bitch in heat.”

And as you completely ignored the attention of your past love, Sukuna came to the resolution that he’d never leave you. Not ever. He would punish you for all your worth. But leave you? Never. You were like a drug to him, an incubus who had her fangs lodged deep into his soul. So, while yes, he was angry at you for sleeping with another man, he realised he just needed to fuck the much-needed sense back into you.

And that's when Sukuna decided to fuck you until the very idea of Toji had been completely erased. Again and again.

Sitting prettily on the table, Toji was forced to watch Sukuna take you over and over just like he did all those months ago.

You made no attempt to be quiet because you knew you would be met with Sukuna’s hand squeezing your cheeks, forcing them open as he plowed into you. Every moan and every whine was one pulled from your husband, as he took you, sitting on the table.

Toji’s eyes were kept to the ground until Sukuna noticed his aversion to the scene.

“Look at my wife while I fuck her, Toji. You know what you put me through this year? You should be beaten bloody and fired. You have it easy. Now, watch her face as I make her cum.”

Even with his eyes pressed on yours as they rolled back in pleasure, Sukuna didn't stop his verbal attacks at the man. Continuing to talk as he fucked through another orgasm.

“I’d fuck your wife to prove a point, but she’s dead already, isn’t she?”

“She’s always been a screamer but listen to her now. Any louder and someone might hear through the soundproof walls.”

“Do you miss fucking her?”

“God she's always so tight and wet.”

“Look at how lovely my wife squeezes around me.”

Wanting a change of position, Sukuna thought it best to throw you over Toji’s lap as he took you from behind.

“Don’t touch what isn't yours.” Your husband warned as Toji went to pat your head as you drooled over his lap and his very prominent hard-on.

“Ryo—fuck. Break. Plea-Oh fuck.” You tried pleading for a break.

“Nuh-uh, baby. We are gonna keep going until I say so.

Pressing your nails into Toji's thighs for stability only caused him to groan out in pleasure.

“Oh. You like watching me fuck my belongings?” Sukuna laughed at Toji’s glare. Knowing that if he tried to leave, it would be over for him, he'd lose his job, along with you.

Slowing his movements down a little, Sukuna reveled at the way you shuddered over his cock. He was getting close and could feel it.”

“Should we give our baby boy a sibling? Hm? A girl or a boy? I think I want another boy. What do you think, baby?”

You gave no response, only the moan of a cock drunk whore.

“Since my wife can’t answer. Toji, tell me. Should I give my son a sibling?”

After being met with silence again. Your husband took it upon himself, cumming in you, triggering your climax immediately after.

You fell to the ground, your weak legs giving in after The hard fucking they withstood. Cum seeped out of you and onto the floor. “What are you doing? Get up. How many times did it take for it to stick in the security footage?” He asked you, keeping eye contact with the other man as he spoke. “I want to make sure you leave full.”

Taglist: @mcnooberton @watyousayin @lazullywinter @llovergirlll @sanrioglocks @ramonathinks

#cat writes ★ #jjk #jujutsu kaisen toji #sukuna smut #sukuna x reader #toji x reader #toji smut #jjk sukuna #sukuna ryomen #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #sukuna ryomen smut #sukuna jjk smut #jjk smut #jujustu kaisen #jujustu kaisen smut #toji zenin #toji fushiguro #fushiguro toji smut #dilf toji #dilf sukuna #sukuna x black reader #toji x black reader #black reader #black y/n #jjk x black reader #x black fem reader #toji fushiguro smut #ryomen sukuna #ryomen x reader #gojo smut

[babyyoda234]

Three Times the Batfamily has been disgusted by your love life...

Dating is hard... but dating in Gotham... Oh Brother... Here are all the times the Batfamily has been involved in your love life.

1st time: Valentines Day

I've really gotta stop going for nerdy guys. This never ends the way I want it to.

"You know Eddie. You could have bought me dinner..." I call out to the rambling rogue behind me, "Scratch that... I can list off a hundred different date ideas.... That DO NOT INVOLVE THE BATMAN."

I can hear a swift crack followed by a muffled cry.

"I like flowers... I'm sure there was a way you could incorporate a riddle with those."

Footsteps draw nearer.

"I honestly don't even think you are trying. What does a child make, but never see? Come on dude... Work on on yourself. Restraints are fun, but this is ridiculous."

Suddenly, my restraints loosen. Stumbling to my feet, I swiftly turn around to see Batman's foreboding gaze. Eddie lies face down passed out 3 feet away.

"Are you alright?" Batman questions carefully noting my lacy heart pj's on top my push up bra. My diamond question mark necklace glitters in the darkness.

"Uh... yeah... Guess I should probably find an apartment where the Riddler doesn't live next door."

Batman sighs before patting me on the back. I am weirdly comforted by the paternal look in his eyes.

"That would be for the best."

2nd time:

Nightwing raises a pointed eyebrow before covering Robin’s eyes. Robin smacks his gloved hand away.

“Come on…. Y/N…” Nightwing trails off.

I interrupt him before this can get anymore humiliating. Being left to be eaten by a man sized Venus Flytrap after a date is not how I imagined my night to go.

“I do not need a life lesson; I have work tomorrow.”

Robin dutifully unties my restraints. He carefully looks anywhere else except my green lingerie.

Nightwing clears his throat. Rummaging through fallen leaves, he asks

“Do you know where she might have left your clothes?”

I shake my head before I start searching the drawers to the nightstand. My sweaty palms create some difficulty turning the knobs.

“You know…” Nightwing continues leaning against the wall, “If you ever wanted to go on a date with someone who wasn’t going to be sent to Arkham… I’ve got this brother.”

My heart starts pounding. This is not happening. Robin’s jaw drops in disbelief.

“Are you seriously trying to set up Red Hood right now?” He gasps incredulously.

Both vigilantes listen to something being said into their ear pieces.

“Well, Jaybird. She’s prettier than anyone you’ve been talking to lately.”

My mouth gasps silently like a fish. Robin finally looks me up and down. He nods before agreeing. This child did not just....

Trying to ignore the hot waves of embarrassment, I finally force words to come out.

“GET OUT! I’ll find them myself!”

3rd time:

“Okay… but this time was not my fault.” I explain raising my hands in surrender. “How was I supposed to know that Two Faces favorite song would be ‘22’? I have to make a living somehow!”

Batgirl tries to keep a straight face, but when she glances back at Red Robin… they both burst out laughing.

“I’m sorry….” She says trying to be professional, “This isn’t funny.”

“Uh huh…” I respond narrowing my eyes at them.

Realizing my mortification, their laughter slowly dies down. The teenage vigilantes grow as serious as possible.

“So, Two Face took you captive after you dedicated 22 by Taylor Swift to him?” Robin questions analyzing the crime boss’s de office.

“Yes, I work at the iceberg lounge as a singer.”

“Where you ever an associate of Harvey Dent before his accident?”

My face goes red. This is not how I wanted today to go. I hate adding fuel to their fire.

“Something like that. I made some mistakes early in college.”

Batgirl bites her quivering lip to avoid laughing again. She checks her clip board left by Gordon.

“We’ll make sure GCPD gets back your… 2 themed underwear that went missing?”

I fantasize about those birds that slam their head underground to avoid conflict.

“I just want my computer. He can… keep the rest. I’m sure he’d like wearing it more than me.” I awkwardly trail off wrapping the robe tighter around my body.

Red Robin nods before muttering something into his ear piece.

“Okay, we’ll be on the search for that. I’m sure Red Hood can drop it off when he raids the lair tonight."

I start laughing before taking a step back. Putting my hands up, I interrupt.

“I can pick it up at Gordon’s office tomorrow. There’s… no need for… any of that.”

The two teens share a glance.

“Are you sure?” Batgirl inquires with a knowing smile in my direction.

I raise an eyebrow.

“Leave me out of this. I do not need to end up dead in crime alley because you guys thought it would be a good idea to set me up with your brother.”

Laughter can be heard in their comms. I vaguely make out “She’s got a point” in Nightwing’s voice.

With a reluctant grin, Batgirl shrugs. Before the vigilante duo leave, Red Robin flashes me an ornery grin.

“See you later.”

I respectfully flip them both off. Laughter echoes down the hallway as they leave.

#batfamily #batbros #batfamily x reader #batman #red hood x reader #batfam #red hood #tim drake #jason todd x reader #jason todd #robin x reader #bisexual

[princessanonymous]

When Night Comes

Platonic Yandere Vampire

Previous Part | Next Part

First Chapter

7. 𝓜𝓪𝓼𝓺𝓾𝓮𝓻𝓪𝓭𝓮

The governess had begun her tutelage several weeks ago, immersing (Y/n) in a world of etiquette, reading, writing, and history. (Y/n)'s nights unfolded like the pages of a meticulously crafted novel as the governess wove a tapestry of refinement and knowledge around her. In the vast library that echoed with the whispers of ancient books, (Y/n) delved into the intricacies of literature, guided by the cold and rigorous teacher.

To make things more intense, she had been attending dance lessons with the vampire. As twilight enveloped the mansion, (Y/n) exchanged her quill for dance shoes, stepping into a realm where elegance and danger danced in tandem. The vampire nobleman led her through a series of intricate steps under the flickering candlelight of the chandelier. Each movement was a symphony of precision. The vampire was truly a demanding instructor. After each lesson, her feet ached, and the simple act of walking became an arduous task. The nobleman had relentlessly drilled her in dance, squeezing months of instruction into mere weeks.

Before the sun dipped below the horizon, casting its last golden rays upon the world, he roused (Y/n) from her slumber with an urgency that hinted at the gravity of the impending event. In the soft glow of dawn, he requested that she don her most exquisite evening gown, a garment he had purchased just for these types of occasions.They were to attend a grand ball, a rare outing that (Y/n) was looking forward to after her time of confinement within the manor's walls.

Following a soothing bath, a maid arrived to assist her in dressing. The process was notably more time-consuming tonight due to the intricate hairstyle and the numerous layers of her dress. Her gown was an exquisite blend of black and crimson, exuding an air of sophistication. She wore long gloves that extended up to her elbows, and a glistening ruby necklace adorned her neck. A red bow adorned her hair, and she completed the look with dainty satin red shoes.

"We will be departing soon, child," she heard the vampire call from the corridor outside her bedroom. "You ought to be prepa—" His sentence hung in the air, unfinished, as he stepped into the room and abruptly came to a standstill, his eyes fixated on (Y/n).

(Y/n) flinched as she wondered if she had inadvertently done something wrong, causing the vampire's sudden pause. He, however, broke the silence with an unexpected smile—a genuine one that reached the depths of his crimson-tinged eyes.

The vampire closed the distance between them, his movements deliberate yet filled with an odd warmth. A fondness colored his words as he addressed her. "Oh, my dear doll," he beamed, his voice full of fondness. "Crimson suits you impeccably. Smile for me," he gushed, his fingers delicately cupping her face, as if sculpting a moment in time.

His reaction was entirely unexpected, and she had never witnessed him being so effusive. The vampire's gaze, once intense and inscrutable, softened into something akin to paternal affection. With a subtle nod, (Y/n) complied, summoning a hesitant yet genuine smile to grace her features. She attempted to swat his hands away, but his genuine enthusiasm was uncontainable as he continued to coo and lavish her with compliments.

The vampire's smile widened, his satisfaction evident. "There, my dear, that is the spirit," he praised, his tone a melodic cadence that echoed in the room. “You look so much better when you behave.”

The vampire's outfit matched hers as he was wearing a red and black frock coat paired with a high-collared vest with silver buttons. As accessories, he wore short cream-white satin gloves and a single-layer jabot with a ruby brooch.

They eventually left the manor, once the man had stopped gushing about her clothing. As (Y/n) walked out. The moon was bright in the cloudless sky and stars shone brightly. The night was a bit chilly and she felt a cold breeze in the air.

A grand black carriage and a coachman were waiting for them by the entrance. She marveled at the beautiful horses. They were tall and imposing, one was black and the other was white. (Y/n) tried approaching them, then the vampire slapped her hand away and tutted. She glared, rubbing her hand to soothe it as they entered the carriage.

As the carriage journeyed toward their destination, (Y/n) couldn't help but confess, "I've never been to a ball before," she admitted with a mixture of excitement and nervousness, her eyes reflecting the glint of uncertainty. "I hope I won't make a fool out of myself."

"Do not concern yourself with such matters," the nobleman dismissed with a lazy, yet elegant wave of his hand. "You've learned everything you need to know, and you shall fit in perfectly."

Her gaze met his, finding solace in the conviction of his words. A small smile tugged at the corners of her lips, a flicker of gratitude for the guidance he had provided in the weeks leading up to this momentous night. With a subtle nod, (Y/n) redirected her eyes on the road for the rest of the journey.

The carriage came to a regal halt in front of the grand estate. It loomed like a castle in the moonlit night. (Y/n), stepping out onto the cobblestone courtyard, couldn't shake the feeling of déjà vu as the estate's dark and gloomy façade reminded her of the mansion where she had resided for the previous months. As she was observing the place, she wondered if all aristocratic residences were eerie.

They approached the entrance gates, where vigilant guards admitted them upon presentation of the vampire's invitation. Proceeding toward the colossal entrance doors, they were momentarily halted by a figure standing next to a butler.

"Duke de Beauvoir," he greeted politely. A subtle hush fell upon the conversation as he leaned in, adding in a voice barely above a whisper, "Madame Rossignol has been eagerly anticipating your arrival."

With the vampire's hand resting on (Y/n)'s shoulder, she only faintly registered the conversation, her mind wandering elsewhere. The duke's lips tightened as he responded, an undercurrent of frustration palpable in his tone, "This woman is quite persistent."

"As you are aware," the other nobleman continued, "with your companion's frequent absences, people are starting to inquire."

He squeezed (Y/n)'s shoulder absentmindedly. "I wasn't aware you had taken up the habit of conversing with coffee-sisters*, Marquis de Sauge," he inquired with an icy demeanor, his gaze piercing through the veil of polite exchanges.

The marquis, momentarily taken aback, appeared somewhat affronted. "Not at all," he hastily clarified. "I merely wanted to inform you that Madame Rossignol still maintains her interest."

A flicker of annoyance crossed the duke's expression. "I am not interested in that harlot," he responded with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Thank you for the warning, Marquis de Sauge," he stated, effectively closing the conversation and dismissing the man, who seemed to have received the unspoken message.

The butler approached, extending a red ribbon to the vampire. He declined it, squeezing (Y/n)'s shoulder once more. "She is accompanying me," he declared firmly, a possessive edge in his tone that piqued (Y/n)'s intrigue.

The butler nodded, replacing the red ribbon with a black one. The vampire graciously accepted it and turned to her. He tied it in a delicate bow around her neck, ensuring it was neither too tight nor too loose.

His face morphed into a somber expression and he said darkly : "Under no circumstances are you to remove this."

She nodded, gulping slightly. She entered beside him, taking her first steps into this breathtaking place. This place was truly a sight to behold. (Y/n) stepped through the opulent doors of the grand ballroom, her heart aflutter with a mixture of awe and trepidation. The ballroom itself was a masterpiece. Crystal chandeliers hung from the gilded ceiling, casting a warm, golden glow over the throngs of elegantly dressed guests. The walls were adorned with intricate tapestries that told the stories of the aristocracy's history, each thread spun with tales of grandeur and wealth. The very air seemed to shimmer with anticipation, carrying the faint scent of delicate perfumes and fine wines.

The strains of a waltz filled the room, courtesy of a live orchestra that played with such precision and grace that (Y/n) felt as though she had stepped into a world of magic. The dancers, resplendent in their lavish attire, twirled and swayed in perfect harmony, their graceful movements a testament to the elegance that defined high society.

(Y/n) couldn't help but be overblown by the sheer spectacle of it all. She watched in wide-eyed wonder as the rich and powerful whirled around her, their laughter and conversation like music in itself. She, a mere peasant girl, now stood on the cusp of a life she had only ever imagined, surrounded by beauty, refinement, and the intoxicating allure of the ballroom.

Yet, (Y/n) couldn't shake a growing unease that had settled within her. After mere seconds, she understood why. The guests, who had appeared so elegant and refined, now seemed to be hiding a dark secret. Their movements, appearing graceful and enchanting, were too fluid and eerily silent, their smiles revealing an unsettling gleam in their eyes. The orchestra's melodies that had filled her heart with wonder now carried an ominous undertone, a discordant symphony that sent shivers down her spine. The red drinks were served by servants and then there were the sharp, incisive glances exchanged between the guests, a silent communication that betrayed their shared, hidden nature.

Her heart pounded with terror as the grand ballroom transformed into a surreal nightmare, the once-elegant figures now revealed as creatures of the night. (Y/n)'s grip tightened on the duke's arm, her fingers clinging to him in a desperate bid for reassurance. Trembling, she sought refuge, instinctively hiding behind him as if the vampire's presence could shield her from his kind.

"They're..." The word caught in her throat, the unspeakable truth lingering in the air.

In a hushed tone that cut through the disconcerting whispers of the undead gathering, he whispered, "They will know you are meant to be treated properly." His fingers, gentle as a whisper, traced the black ribbon around her neck. It was a silent promise of protection.

______________

*: A 19th-century term for “malignant gossipers,” according to this website.

#platonic yandere #yandere platonic #yandere vampire #yandere father #obsession #yandere #vampire #platonic #x reader #female reader #reader insert #child reader #yandere x reader #kidnapping #tw kidnapping

[tojigasm]

Heavy with Blood and Sick

Authors note: thank you so, so much for 10k!! I adore you all endlessly and cannot thankyou enough for the joyous support and adoration you've all expressed towards my work. I hope you all enjoy this celebratory piece ♡♡

Warnings: 18+, minors dni, nsfw, labor, pregnancy, pet names, unexpected pregnancy, graphic birth, blood, pain, crying, fluff, love, angst

Synopsis:

"Easy, easy, sweetheart." He's soft behind you, grounding you as another contraction rips itself through your body.

"Breathe fr'me, deep breaths," he strokes his hand down your shaky arm, "good girl," Jake presses a kiss to the back of your head when you groan again.

"I cant- I cant..." your cheeks are swollen and hot as you pant into his hold.

Jake pulls you into him, pulling your hair behind your ear, "you can," he nods with his words, reaching down to cup the underside of your heavy middle, "calm down, kid."

He doesn't understand it. Doesn't know why you don't just come out with whatever the hell it was that was so obviously bothering you. It annoys him that you're crying in his lap, sobbing and choking, sniffling against the thunder and rain that shatters in the sky, making you jump ever so often. Yet you still won't tell him what's wrong.

He eventually stops prying, settling on running a big hand up and down your back in gentle rows.

"You okay?" He only asks once your broken cries have dissolved into quiet sniffles.

You don't say anything. Nodding into your arms cupped over your knees.

Jake eyes you at your quiet response, moving to speak before he pauses. He realizes he doesn't know what to say. Doesn't know what you need and how to help.

"Sweetheart?"

"M'pregnant." You cut him off. It's so sudden Jake thinks the confession shakes you as well.

It does.

Jake nods, humming softly before tucking you back into his hold. "Tsuy wasn't happy I gather?" He motions languidly to your position in his lap and you nod. He sighs through his nose at that.

And he's so warm. So warm and big and rough. So stern that you nearly start crying again. The blue stripes and scars a mocking reminder of tsuy. He doesn't let you go back to your home that night.

-

Jake hates when you do this.

Hates the way you look over his children with sorrow eyes. Whether its watching the three by the river, helping Neytiri with Tuk, briading Kiri's hair. It's all the same, the same look.

He knows the last six months havent been kind to you - riddled by your surpise pregnancy ontop of your mate leaving you. He'd taken you under his wing at that, both he and Neytiri taking you in as their own which had soon bloomed into much more.

Often Jake finds himself thinking back to the day the three of you had mated. Making the bond between the two of you had brought upon something he hadnt expected; rather than a flush of excited heat he'd been met with a heavy sorrow.

He often wonders what you think of, what you need. He doesnt quite know.

"Hey hon," Jake nuzzles your cheek as you thread blades of grass together. He takes a seat next to you, pulling his own handful of green from the root to start braiding together.

You hum in acknowdlegement, crossing your legs under your swollen middle. You like days like this, days where the wind in the forest is soft and cool and the trees seem to sing.

You can tell Jake wants to say something. He's always been that way, very straight to the point and naturally paternal to those he loves.

"What is it?" you sigh, folding over the last blade of the strewn plants.

He's quiet for a moment, eyes shifting from his hands of bent grass to your figure beside him. "Are you alirght?" He asks finally, dropping the ripped blades to the ground.

"Why wouldnt i be?" you answer sharply, fingers pulling a bit tighter at the ends of your necklace. He doesnt respond but you know whats coming, know that he'll eventually unravel your soft walls you so despeartely tried to build up over the past few months.

Jake's hand cups under your chin, stroking the base of your ear soflty. "Hey," he calls gently, placing his free hand on your wrists to push them down to your lap.

"Look at me, sweetheart," Jake speaks so softly you could cry. His hand on your chin turns you gently to meet his eyes. His amber ones search your teary ones before he's pulling you into his lap with a soft hum.

He doesn't try to coo you, doesnt quiet your heartfelt sobs and your choked cries. He lets hismelf be there, lets himself soothe a hand up and down your back as you cry into his chest.

"You're gonna be okay. I'm gonna take care of you, you're gonna be fine, honey."

—

Neytiri had been out on a hunt. Away for a week at least and heavysome you became with worry, sick, and labor.

It'd only been a few hours since your contractions started to get closer together. Every ache and pull against your womb simmering in the heat of your strength.

You rocked back and forth on your hands and knees in the heat of the nearby springs. Jake helping to relax your muscles as you felt another contraction rip its way through your womb.

 Jake, beside you, kneeling and running his hand over the skin of your back, gently massaged the rough of his palms into your shaking nerves.

"Haa... haa Jake” you cried, the pressuring heat in your belly so heavy you can feel your knees buckle beneath you. You nearly collapse at the intensity of it. Grasping for Jake as air catches in your throat.

He catches your arm, finding a soft patch to meet your heavy eyes.

“I’m right here, whatta need, sweetheart?” He stroks the skin of your shoulder, moving his hand from your back to rest on your wet cheek.

You whimper, “just,” you look back at your belly through a pant. "I want 'tiri," you cry, head dropping between your shoulder blades.

Jake nods softly.

“I know, hon. I know."

—

“Jake, i can’t.” you pant, back to Jake's chest. 

"Easy, easy, sweetheart." He's soft behind you, grounding you as another contraction rips itself through your body.

"Breathe fr'me, deep breaths," he strokes his hand down your shaky arm, "good girl," Jake presses a kiss to the back of your head when you groan again.

"I cant- I cant..." your cheeks are swollen and hot as you pant into his hold.

Jake pulls you into him, pulling your hair behind your ear, "you can," he nods with his words, reaching down to cup the underside of your heavy middle, "calm down, kid."

You sob, falling into his hands.

"Hurts so bad."

“i know," he nods, rubbing your shoulders softly, "m'right here.”

—

“Jake, pease,” you said mumble through a sobbing pant “please, just make it stop.” 

You couldn't breathe - you felt like your lungs were being crushed, your legs had gone numb, pins and needles stabbing into the heels of your feet and tail, running up the muscles of your swollen caves. Child birth was sickly.

Jake sat behind you, his chest to your back and his arms beneath your own, stroking the taut skin of your belly.

“Shh...c’mon, c’mon another push for me please.” Jake whispers into the back of your head, the scent of your heat claiming his nerves slightly.

“I cant. Jake, really, I can't.” you were so exhausted. 

“Yes you can.” Jake slid both hands under your arms to hoist you up to be sitting more. The abrupt change in position startling you.

“Kay, on three you're gonna give me a big push, okay?” Jake bent his head over your shoulder to kiss your cheek, lips against your damp skin as he did so. 

You nodded and readjusted yourself as much as you could, gripping your hands on his muscled thighs which sat on either side of you. 

“You ready?” Jake asks, rubbing his hands up and down your arms comfortingly. 

“Mhm” you nod again, preparing yourself for the inevitable contraction. Right as the first tendrils of pain passed through your belly you grit your teeth and pushed, eyes screwed shut. 

Jake's soft praises soothe you as you groan. “Such a good girl for me.”

—

Your legs were beginning to twitch from supporting your weight for so long. tail heavy to the ground and ears droopy with unease.

You sat in a squat, your legs spread and your nails digging into Jake's thick skin.

Jake sat in a squat in front of you, large hands holding the tops of your spread thighs.

“Ya doin’ okay?” Jake cooed, looking between your legs as he asked, quirking his head a tad to look up at you.

You nodded through a sob “Y-yeah- ah!” another contraction ripped itself through your body making you curl in on yourself, dropping a hand from Jake's thigh to cup your belly. 

“Jake, get him out,” you sob, lids heavy and cheeks hot.

“m'doin' the best i can, hon,” he rubbed your thighs with his rough thumbs. “you're doin' so good." 

You nod tiredly.

“Kay, gimme another push, you can do this." Jake nods, tilting his head to get a better look at your face. 

With a hiss, you bore down into another push, legs widening as a white hot pain stroke itself through your opening. 

“Jake, it burns!” You throw your head back into cry out as you continued to push. 

Jake took his hand from your belly to place both in a cupping position beneath you. “That’s okay, its all okay. Just means the baby’s crowning.”

Suddenly the pain spread itself throughout the entire bottom half of your body, spreading through your legs and numbing your toes in pure aony as you pushed. 

“Ta- agh!” you hissed and pushed again. 

“Keep your push, right there sweetheart, I can see his head.” Jake's tail perks and his tongue falls out to lay across his bottom lip, eyes zoned in on the small tuft of hair that would've been nearly invisible to the naked eye. 

“It hurts, oh my god it hurts.” you hissed and bore down again, your swollen lips drawing into a straight line. 

“Stop, stop, stop.” Jake interrupts you. 

“Why? What's going on?” you heaved. 

“Nothin’ relax.” Jake looks up at you, “You just gotta let yourself breathe, you're gonna pass out.” 

You went to say something when another contraction shook your core again. 

“Oh god, help, Jake, help me!” You could feel the baby began to crown, your legs widening to accommodate. 

“I’m right here, sweetie, you're doing so good.” Jake ooked at you, putting his hand between your legs and feeling around, focusing on what he was doing as he copied breathing with you. 

“In-” He took an exaggerated inhale “And out” he exhaled dramatically and you copied, the breathing exercise going on for a couple of seconds.

“Whew!” Jake laugh, shaking his head a bit, “Getting' dizzy haha.”

You side eye him which he returns in a sheepish smile. The small moment being interrupted when you groaned again, squeezing your eyes shut and curling in again to push. 

“Can you feel him?” your eyes fall shut.

“Yeah, kid, I got him, don’t worry, just keep breathing.” He cups the baby’s head, letting you push again as he helps to maneuver the top of the head out. 

“Ah! gentle, please- it hurts.” you sniffled and opened your eyes, craning your neck to try and see over the curve of your belly before Jake pushes your head back up some.

“You’ll hurt your neck.” he scolds, taking your hand from his shoulder to bring it around your middle to his own. Your fingertips graze a small tuft of hair and you're left to gasp lightly.

“Th- that's him?” you look up at Jake in exhaust, too tired to fully register whether or not what was happening was real. 

Jakes eyes are watery, “Yeah, kid. That’s our baby." He looks back down, moving your hand back to his shoulder, grounding you as you pushed again. 

“Oh, wait, wait, wait- right there, one more big push, his nose is almost out.” Jake readjusts his weight on both feet, stepping side to side slightly. 

You pushed again, a smooth pop! Filling out your body as you felt the head slip out of your body. 

“Oh there he is,” Jake stroks the small tuft of black hair on the smooth skin of the baby’s head “Hey, lil' bud."

You still sat in your squat, eyes closed and taking deep breaths as you try to calm yourself down, brows furrowing at times when a small jerk of pain would make you jump. 

“You okay?” Jake notices asked, baby’s head still in his hands, looking up at you. 

You nodded, trying to stop yourself from crying. 

“You’re okay baby, I’m right here. If you needa' cry then cry.” he reaches up and to kiss your forehead. 

Shivering, you begin to push again, the shoulders slowly breaching your body. 

“So good, so good, he’s almost out.” jake soothes, pulling lightly at the shoulder being pushed from your body. “C’mon just one more big push, you’re so close.” 

“Fuck!” You exclaimed and bore down once more. 

Finally the shoulder slipped out, followed by the baby’s body, falling into Jake's grasp, his huge blue hands dwarfing the baby. 

You fall back onto your bum at the release of the baby, going to reach for him as Jake scrambled to swaddle the infant within thatch wraps before handing him over to you. 

You cup the baby in your hold, hands shaking as you run your finger over the plumpness of his cheek. 

“Hey baby,” you coo through tears, leaning down to kiss your baby’s head before looking for Jake who had grabbed a blanket and was wrapping you in it. 

Squatting behind you, he leaned over your shoulder to turn your head and kiss you. 

“Hold his head, honey, like this- there you go.” Jake corrects gently, bringing his hand under your own for support.

#dilf jake sully #jake sully x reader #avatar #avatar x reader #jake sully

[veryintricaterituals]

I am Jewish, what does that mean?

I was born in Colombia on the 49th anniversary of Hitler's suicide, I was raised here but I lived in Israel for about four years. I am not white, I don't look white, and my first language is Spanish. I came back to Colombia three years ago because of the pandemic.

I grew up Jewish and swallowed all the pro-Israel propaganda, I moved there looking for better opportunities and somewhere safe where I could come out of the closet. It took me less than a month to understand where I really had ended up in. It wasn't so different from my own colonized third world country filled with violence.

I did my best, I voted against the current Israeli government four separate times, I worked with and was great friends with many Palestinians and Arab Israelis (there unfortunately is a difference), I went to protests, I donated blood, I donated food and money. I fucking hate Netanyahu with all my heart.

For two years I taught English at a low income school in Jerusalem where all my students were mizrahi jews (from Arab countries) whose families had been kicked out of various surrounding countries in the 20th century. When I spoke to their parents and grandparents they talked about Iran, Morroco, Egypt, Yemen, with such longing and they brought me the most delicious foods. (Two of my students were killed two weeks ago, kids, barely 18 now, much younger when I taught them, I remember them).

My great grandmother on my mom's side was born in Jerusalem and raised in Egypt until all Jews were expelled and she had to flee with my newborn grandfather. They ended up in Colombia because she spoke ladino (Jewish dialect that is close to Spanish) they were undocumented, without a nationality because Egypt had rejected them, they had to lie and pay for falsified documents in order to get a passport, I still have a Red Cross passport in my house with my grandfather's name that determines he has no home country.

My great grandparents on my dad's side were born and raised in Bielorrusia and had to escape with my newborn paternal grandfather from the progroms after they destroyed their shtetl, they tried to make it to the US but they wouldn't take any more Jews so they ended up in Colombia.

My great grandmother on my paternal side was born in Romania, at the age of 12 she got on a boat with her 15 year old cousin, not knowing where it would take them. Her parents had both died and antisemitism was on the rise. She was so afraid that they were going to send her back that she threw her passport (that said JEW in capital letters) into the sea when they arrived at the port of a country she had never heard of, to this day we don't know when her birthday was.

My maternal grandmother is Colombian, she was born and raised here, Catholic until she converted to marry my grandfather, and yet when I went looking up our family tree I found we came from Sephardic Jews that had been expelled from Spain almost 500 years ago by the inquisition.

There are less than 400 Jews in my city that homes over 4 million people. My synagogue has been closed since October 12th, our president has equated all of Israel with Nazism on multiple occasions in the last few weeks. The kids that go to our tiny Jewish school have stopped wearing the uniform so that they cannot be identified. Ours is one of the countries with the least amount of antisemitism in the world. Someone in my university saw my Magen David necklace and screamed at me to go back where I came from. I went online and saw countless posts telling Israelis to do the same.

I am Jewish, I am latina, I am gay. My story is complicated, my relationship with my community is complicated, my relationship with my country is complicated. My relationship with G-d is complicated, my relationship with Israel is incredibly complicated. My history is complicated.

I am Jewish. What does that mean?

#this is my story #jewish people are complicated #our stories are complicated #please reblog #judaism #jumblr #jewish #israel

[two-white-butterflies]

coaxed you into paradise - c. 21

Description: The life of Saera Targaryen told in four acts. She was her father's forgotten daughter, cast aside as she looked nothing like her mother. Her younger days were spent beside her uncle. Years following her marriage with Ser Harwin Strong, she catches him in an affair with her older sister. She returns to seek solace in the arms of her uncle, that she's loved all her life.

(Coaxed You Into Paradise and High Infidelity Rewrite.)

masterlist for this series

Chapter Twenty-One: Blood of Two

“Take my hand in marriage. I’ll marry you in the sight of our gods.” he offered, reaching to cup her face. “Be my wife, bear more of my children. If it is revenge that you seek - I will be your servant.” he professes, not wanting to freely love his niece. “I have a husband, Daemon.” She reasons, staring deep into his dark-purple orbs. 

“My blood flows for you. I won’t mind being your second husband - as long as I am the first in your heart.” he whispered in return, hoping that she’d listen to him. They were Valyrians - carved in the same fire that sought to destroy the world. They were beyond the laws of men. 

—

All those years of torment brought them back to Dragonstone. The yearning and longing combined led them back to each other’s arms. Saera takes a deep breath - eyes meeting those of her twin children. 

“What about father?” Alyssa asked, eyes swelling with tears. She leans down to their level, cupping both of their faces with her hands. “My children,” she began and the girl crossed her arms. There was no love between Harwin and Saera, both of them knew it - but their children didn’t know that. 

“Do you spurn me?” she asked, staring deep into her daughter’s eyes. Alyssa’s gaze softened. “I am not the mother that I wish I was.” she confessed with a deep breath, “- and I have wronged you, all your lives.” she added, a single tear flowing down her eyes - she had her children too young. She didn’t realize that she was still oblivious to the world in those times. 

“I don’t understand you, muña.” Alyssa admitted. Saera gives her a bitter smile. “You both wonder why you look more Targaryens than your cousins.” Saera’s left hand returned to her necklace, opening her right hand further - pulling the children so they’d be embracing her. 

She inhales their scent - of honeyed limes and cinnamon. Her children and her blood. The fruits of her soul. She wanted to tell them about their real paternity - but she fought upon that thought seeing that they were still children. 

“Daemon will not replace your father, I promise.” she kissed the top of both their heads. “The conqueror had two wives, did he love one of them more than the other?” she questioned and the Twins shook their heads. 

—

The traditions of Valyria were lost in time - but not lost to Daemon and Saera. Weddings of Old Valyria were typically simple and modest, they didn’t wear fancy gowns or host luxurious feasts. Saera was wearing borrowed clothes that she had sewn the day before. It was shining white - with black and red threads. 

“Hen lantoti ānogar, (blood of two)” Saera recited while taking the obsidian dagger, cutting her palms and watching as the blood seeped through her stained forearm. “Va syndroti vāedroma, (joined as one)” he answered - sharing a smile before taking the dagger and cutting his own palms. By this time, rain began to pour from the clouds - coating the soil with water. 

He looks in her direction again, losing himself in her lavender hues. Saera Targaryen - his niece, his wife, and flesh. “Mēro perzot gīhoti, (ghostly flames)” she responded, eyes locked in his own. The sides of her mouth turned upwards, smiling softly while their hands entwined together - their blood flowing and mixing. “Elēdroma jārza sīr, (and song of shadows)” he recited, taking the blood from his palms and writing the Valyrian words on her forehead. 

‘Blood’ he wrote. 

‘Fire’ she added on his. 

He resisted the urge to lean over and kiss her forehead. He looks over her shoulder to see their children watching them. “Izulī ampā perzī, (two hearts as embers.)” she whispered - like a prayer. She takes the dagger from his hand, allowing the moment to linger. She reaches for his face again, creating a soft line in the middle of his supple lips. “Prūmi lanti sēteksi, (forged in fourteen flames)” he whispered, doing the same thing to her. 

“Hen jeny māzīlarionr, (to a future promised in glass)” she answered, feeling the blaze graze her lips. “Qēlossa ozūndesi, (the stars stand witness)” they say in unison, as the priest descends with a goblet filled with blood. “Syndroro ōñō jēdo, (the vow spoken through time)” they say at the same time. The smell of petrichor enters their lungs. It was a prophecy. 

Saera takes a sip from the goblet — tasting the delicious taste of rust and iron. "Ry kīyla mazvestraksi, (of darkness and light)" he breathed out as her lips left the rim of the cup, offering him a chance to drink too. He takes a sip of the blood — smiling as he feels her hand delicately touch his forearm. After his lips leave the goblet. She wipes the crimson from his lips and brings her thumb to her mouth, tasting the iron of his tongue.

Dragons of thread, weaving dragons of destruction. 

“To fire and blood,” she whispered - grabbing his forearm and tasting the blood that he recently drank. “To the promise of spring,” he answered. 

—

Viserys placed the parchment loudly on his table, rattling the previous paperwork that laid waste. It was a letter informing that Saera had married his brother in Dragonstone - and that there was nothing he could do to stop them. “I’m sure that they are jesting,” Lord Lyonel says uneasily - angered that his good-daughter has brought shame upon House Strong. 

“We will get to the bottom of this, I assure you.” Viserys comforts, the dragon inside of him stirring awake. He didn’t mind seeing his daughter and brother around and making children - but marrying each other? It was too ambitious, even for Daemon. “Prince Daemon has never been one to think about the long-term outcomes of his actions. He is doing this for attention, your grace - you should pay him no mind.” Ser Otto responds, reading the letter. 

“It is a sin against the seven gods.” Lyonel gritted his teeth, prepared to drag his good-daughter away from Dragonstone and barred in Harrenhal. “I understand if they were cousins - but uncle and niece? Princess Saera has known Prince Daemon since she was a babe.” Lyonel antagonized. 

Oh the nobles were going to make fun of him. 

Question his grandchildren’s legitimacy, even. 

“According to the letter - they will arrive here tomorrow. I advise both of you to keep your opinions to yourselves. You are speaking of the prince and princess of this kingdom.” Viserys reprimanded, still having a soft spot for Aemma’s second daughter. 

next chapter>>

taglist: @watercolorskyy @sweetybuzz25 @newtsniffles @loveandlewis-reads @lovecleastrange @julkaamazing @schniiipsel @mirandastuckinthe80s @areaderinlove @i-yam-awesome @ladystardvsts @gracielikegrapes @sweethoneyblossom1 @issybee0611 @tato0od @delaynew @thisbihreadstoomuch @plutoscosmoss @immyowndefender @marvelescvpe @batmans-love @luanasrta @tesha-i-guess@valeridarkness

#daemon x reader #daemon targaryen x oc #daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x reader #prince daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen headcanon #daemon targaryen fic #daemon targaryen smut #daemon targaryen imagine #daemon targaryen fanfic #daemon targaryen fluff #house targaryen #house of the dragon #daemon headcanons #daemon prince #daemonism #hotd daemon

[bonefall]

BB!Firestar

[ID: Firestar from Warrior Cats with his tail on fire. The text reads, "Ssoen kafyar-ul ulnyams ssarshefpa," which is "Fire Alone will save the Clans" in Clanmew]

The man, the myth, the legend. Bringer of change, righter of ancient wrongs, ancestral patron of fire and of breaking bad habits.

Clanmew Name: Kafyarbabi, Kafyarshai [Wildfire + Heartbeating = Behaves like a wildfire.]

Alignment: ThunderClan

Relationships: Mates (platonic) - Sandstorm, Onestar (ex) Family - Squirrelflight, Leafpool, Cloudtail (nephew), Princess, Jayfeather, Lionblaze, Hollyleaf Mentors - Bluestar, Spottedleaf, Yellowfang Friends - EVERYONE. Graystripe, Deerfoot, Iceheart (Scourge), Brokenstar (post-death), Longtail, Cinderpelt

Chelford cats do not track paternity. It's not known who Firestar's father is, and it's probably not Jake anyway.

Firestar is aromantic. He is platonic co-parents with Sandstorm. He did not realize he was aromatic when he was seeing Onewhisker.

Other Clans consider him nosy. He's always trying to help out others, even when their sense of pride makes them hesitate to accept it.

Incorrigible. If he thinks he's right, you can't stop him. He also thinks it's important to make sure his Clan is well cared-for and doesn't give in to fear.

His personality is very passionate and outgoing.

Bonefall TPB:

To begin with, Rusty had to learn a new language to join the Clans. Clanmew and Townmew are sister languages but there was still a learning curve.

Spottedleaf was a big sister figure to him, she taught him how to connect with StarClan, what the rules are, and how to break them.

Bluestar left a deep impact on him as his mentor, she was the inventor of the mercy and grace which comes to define Fire Alone.

Like canon, he opposes Tigerclaw at every step once he realizes the cruelty within him.

Unlike canon, Better Bones is about having a strong anti-authoritarian stance, and to do that there's even MORE allies that Firestar connects with.

Oakfur, Stumptail, and Deerfoot in ShadowClan, and Mosspelt and Dawnflower in RiverClan are all cats who work directly with Fireheart, and were at times his Aftergathering buddies.

The end of Bonefall TPB is the battle with BloodClan, where he spares Scourge by defeating him honorably, ripping his collar off and forcing him to call a retreat.

The thesis of the arc is that Fire Alone can save the Clans because it's a radical change to the xenophobic, authoritarian culture of the Forest Four.

He lost a life in the process, from a huge slash across his chest and shoulder. It's meant to look like a mayoral sash, of sorts. His first deputy was Whitestorm, and after his death, his second was Longtail.

After the battle, he went a step further by bringing the collar back to Scourge as a gift of goodwill. He offered to uphold whatever he could of Tigerstar's Impossible Deal, and was shocked at the simple solution. BloodClan simply wanted things they couldn't get in Chelford; timber, glue, flowers, new types of foods they'd never tasted before.

Together, they forged a trade route that promised a bright future. During the destruction of the forest, Scourge eventually decided to lend his strength to the Clans for their Journey, eventually deciding to retire with them.

Scourge was eventually given the name Iceheart, so that he may live out his days with them in quiet peace.

Firestar's Quietus:

Brokenstar is the guardian spirit of the 5th tree of Fourtrees, which blighted and died after SkyClan's exile

His spirit cannot rest until SkyClan is safe. Firestar gets freakish dreams, Runningnose contacts him, and brings him to the Moonstone to figure this out.

It's there that he learns about Brokenstar trying to break into StarClan to make them do something. On learning that they just let an entire Clan get exiled, Firestar tells them to shove it and agrees to help.

Runningnose gives him a very emotional and significant acorn necklace which channels Brokenstar-- this item becomes important many arcs later.

Broken and Fire go back and forth a lot on what SkyClan should look like, what it needs, and how they should rebuild. The lesson learned is that SkyClan needed help, but can handle its own destiny.

Leafstar and the Warriors of SkyClan are not a Clan like the Forest Four. They will do things their own way, and that is a beautiful thing.

Brokenstar's final action is possessing Firestar's body (establishing the rules of possession for TBC later) to eradicate the rats; which were the earthbound, tormented souls of SkyClan's ancestors.

That's how Brokenstar and Firestar become the saviors of SkyClan

Bonefall Po3, Cruel Season, and Bonefall OotS:

In the episodic revamp of Po3, Firestar is aiding the other Clans through their struggles with the new environment, and helping to raise his grandchildren to be honorable cats.

So, his role is essentially as both the Clan's leader, and as Grandpaw Firestar.

His deputy is Brackenfur, who was promoted after Firestar and Brambleclaw agree that he isn't ready for deputyship yet after his lapse of judgement with Hawkfrost.

Brackenfur is killed towards the end of Po3 in the Battle of the False Eclipse, a trick from Sol, God of Chaos, a preview of the night that is to come where the dead can walk the earth.

Brambleclaw succeeds him.

The Fire Scene is in the in-between book between Po3 and OotS; Cruel Season.

It was started by Whiskernose of WindClan, aided and abetted by Thornclaw and Breezepelt, as an intentional distraction so they could get Firestar alone to kill him on the Dark Forest's orders.

He has one last big scene after his death; coming down from Silverpelt when Jayfeather summons StarClan warriors to fight the Dark Forest.

After winning a rematch with Scourge, Tigerstar finally gets the battle he's always wanted, and Firestar deals with him once and for all.

His Legacy:

He becomes known as the Patron of Fire and Breaking Bad Habits. He's invoked frequently during wet days when it's hard to start a cooking fire.

Firekin are renowned as a family of heroes, something that can cause a lot of pressure for its youngest members.

Fire Alone and Traditionalism are the competing ideologies by the modern era, with support of Thistle Law being kept very quiet.

#BB!Firestar #Better Bones AU #wc au #Bonefall Po3 #Bonefall TPB #Bonefall OotS #Bonefall Cruel Season #art #sketch requests #Clanmew #character summary

[sweeteaacakes]

♡》 Solomon's Descendant ~ Haneul "Hannah" Choi

WHB OC??? LET'S GOOOOO huehehehe

More Info About Hannah:

tw: mention of death, mention of bullying if squint.

Aliases

"Descendant of Solomon" / "Child of Solomon"

"Starlight" (by her aunt)

Extra

Confidence Point: ...her whole body ( · ᴗ̵ ‹ )

Favourite Accessories: necklace/chokers

Ideal Type: "...Someone with heartfelt smile...?"

Ideal Body Type: Someone with warm body

Trivia

Her parents' death was around her young teenage years. She stayed with her paternal aunt's household;

During her young years, she had few purple hair strands that children used to pluck for being weird

Her aunt dyed her hair and made her wear contact lenses to have a "natural hair and eye color". Once Hannah left she kept them natural.

Philia Info:

!—philia are most often referred to be sexual however they can also be non-sexual by nature which and instead a term of fondness!

Ablutophilia: sexual excitement from baths or showers.

Neophilia: love or enthusiasm for something new

Katoptronophilia: sexual arousal from having sex in front of mirrors.

#.sweeteaa draws #.sweeteaa oc #what in hell is bad #whb #whb oc #whb mc

[palesweetscherryblossom]

The two wicked creatures carry their new hatchlings to the cave that serves as their den. Once they were past the small entrance the big cave opened up. In the heart of the cave was a huge nest with all sorts of soft materials. "Clean up, would you dear." Tomura cooed after he and Dabi laid the new additions to their family into the nest.

When he heard the other give an agreeing hum he didn't hesitate to slide into the neat and kiss each other the little one's foreheads. His tongue slipped out of his mouth as he started to groom his hatchlings. He took his time with each one to bathe them in his scent, claiming them as his own.

Soon he had both against his body while his tail was wrapped around them. His paternal instincts were purring when they saw the little ones against his body. Even more when his mate joined the nest as well, first giving his mate affection and then their little ones. It made his chest swell with pride when he watched the ravenette lay down next to him, so that the new ones were between them.

"Not what I was expecting to get out of this trip," the Naga commented and kissed his mate's forehead and then the leather necklace with countless fangs that his sadistic mate kept as trophies.

"Well, we aren't disappointed now, are we?" He teased him a little before he laid his head down, his crimson eyes closing as he fully trusted his mate.

"Of course not, after all. We have had this wish for quite a while now, to have hatchlings." He explained as he continued to groom his mate now. All of his attention on the homicidal maniac that he called his dearest.

Just god tier writing. I devour this blurb like it’s my breakfast, lunch and dinner.

#platonic yandere #yandere mha #yandere shigaraki #yandere dabi #naga shigaraki #naga dabi

[magnetothemagnificent]

Questions 3, 8, 16, 17, and 20 all for Magneto, your tumblr namesake. Wanna see your hot takes. (I paraphrased a bit for the questions) Wasn't sure the acceptable amount of questions to ask so I settled on five but totally understandable if you only ask a few.

3) Least favorite canon thing about this character?

8) What's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you despise?

16) Least favorite ship for this character?

17) Ship that you don't hate but it's not your favorite/you're fine with it?

20) Which other character is the ideal best friend for Magneto?

3) Least favourite canon thing about Magneto:

It's gotta be the Marvel canon retcon that Pietro and Wanda aren't his biological children and aren't mutants. I think it's stupid and Marvel needs to stop retconning famous mutants as non-mutants. I guess another canon thing I don't like is. Well. Obviously the fact that he killed Pietro that one time lol.

8) Something the fandom does to Magneto that I despise:

I notice the fandom has this tendency to either woobify him and make him out to be this paragon of progressivism and leftism, the saviour of all minorities and oppressed people, incapable of any prejudice, etc etc.....or completely demonizing him and making him out to be an unredeemable monster. He is a very complicated character and so many people just are incapable of nuance.

16) Least favourite ship for Magneto:

I mean. There's a lot of canon pairings in the comics that are Questionable, just, the writers tacking on some female arm candy for him to have just to make him that much cooler, but honestly I don't consider them "ships" because they never went very far. My least favourite ship and canon (although alternate universe canon) pairing is Magneto and Rogue. It's just. Why. I think Magneto if anything would have a more paternal relationship with Rogue, seeing in her what he experienced as a child. But a romantic relationship that even culminated in having a child with her???? Yeah. No.

17) Ship that I don't hate but isn't my favourite and am fine with:

Magneto and Storm. I think they have a *super* compelling relationship and they are just *so* powerful together, it's like their powers were made for each other (Electromagnetism and meteorology? They are so intertwined). I see them more as having a very strong platonic relationship, maybe having dated once but deciding not to pursue it further. But if it was made canon of their relationship being romantic (which I honestly see as happening given recent comics), I would not be unhappy and honestly they are a literal power couple, whether it's platonic or romantic.

20) Which other character is the ideal best friend for Magneto:

I honestly really miss the dynamic Magneto and Kitty Pryde had under Claremont, I wish we could have seen more and had it developed more. Like. When Kitty died a couple years ago we barely got any mourning out of Magneto, and it was Kurt who gave Kitty her Magen David necklace back after she was resurrected, when I really think it should have been Magneto. They had such an awesome intergenerational friendship and I'm sad that it seems to have been forgotten by recent writers.

#magneto posting #magneto #erik lehnsherr #max eisenhardt #marvel #marvel comics #x men #x men comics #ask meme

[biblicallyaccurateslut]

I just read a re-post of one of my post from a non-gaylor, and I would like to say it was a really good, respectful answer that explained their point of view perfectly and, by any means, this post is an attemp to start beef or anything.

Being said that, one of the points that really standed out to me was how some fans would "force a queer identity on her" (not quoting them, just summarizing) and how twisting lyrics to hold a narrative or using certain interpretation of a song, was not healthy, in reference to the connection I made to the album midnights and Taylors queerness.

Now, I would like to ask, isnt twisting a lyric to fit a narrative how people started saying that Taylor was the "argumentative antithetical dream girl" she refers to in hits different, when is crearly (and is a question of grammar and basic language comprension) refering to the muse of the song?

Bet I could still melt your world, argumentative antithetical dream girl. Are you kidding me?? How could you posible say this makes sense if she was refering to herself???

Then, the paternity test constantly done by swifties to look for the muse of a song is nothing more than a certain interpretation of the lyric to fit the narrative. So that is not a thing exclusive to gaylors, almost every swiftie does it.

Now, that is what I like to call a double standard. I am not shaming the original autor of the post that have inspired this text, but pointing out a more societal problem. Very often, speculation and shipping and reading into things, if done in a hetero way is okay but do not dare to do it in a way that relates to queerness.

About the "forcing a queer identity on her", there is a thing, done through history called flagging. Safo was doing it in ancient Grecee, so did Oscar Wilde and more recently Elton John or James Dean. There are signals of the queer community to signal discretely to other lgbtq+ that they are one of them.

Taylor is not subtle about her flagging. She went out in a bi pride colored jacket to sing "and you can want who you want, boys and boys and girls and girls". She did sing about wearing someone like a necklace. She did spray paint her paint the bi colors to her gay pride music video. Use the lyric hair pin drop more than once. She puts lesbian flag colors as the main lighting in her world wide tour. And much much more. Is obvious, really out there for the people who want to see it to see.

Once you see that, you have no option but to hope she is queer; because if she was not, she would only be a straight girl that harmed the queer comunity by taking all the simbolisim that lgbtq+ people have built througt the ages and making it hetero to the mainstream, erasing the very little history the comunity has managed to create in the opressed world that it had have to endure.

So, even if I think that the answer to my previous post was really well written and respectful, I do not think it is a really nuance take.

PD: To the person behind the original blog that posted the answer, if you have read this and recognised yourself on it, just know this is not a personal attack and I apologize before hand if that felt like that to you.

#gaylor #taylor swift #queer #gaylor swift #kaylor #eras tour #swiftgron #the eras tour

[dspd]

You know what we don't see a lot of in TMA'verse? The exploration of Jon's brownness. It's widely accepted that Jon is some flavor of brown in fanon but we never see him with a bindi or read that he always smells faintly of sandalwood from morning prayer to his parents and grandmother. I'd love to see fanart of a young Jon next to his tiny dadi (paternal grandmother), both wearing traditional white clothes as they pray during Narayan Bali Yagya (Hindu funeral rites for unusual deaths) for his father. Or a background picture on his desk of him and dadi, in a beautiful saffron orange and deep red sari, posing and serious at his high school graduation ceremony, his olive green dhoti peeking from behind his unzipped gown and NEHS stole, cap held carefully in his hands.

What if Martin finds out that he's more successful in getting his workaholic boss to take a meal break if he brings in Kerala food, particularly Idiyappam with Curry.

What is, once Jon has been sufficiently traumatized so like s3, he searches for comfort in childhood memories and Jon pulls out some stuff he remembers his mom and dad wearing around home when he was small, including a rather small mango mala necklace his mother wore and a couple gold bangles that match his father's heirloom ring passed down for 4 generations.

Like, he doesn't have to be Hindu (approx. 1.6% of UK identifies as Indian) but the point is we should fully embrace him being brown.

#the uk has wonderfully colorful hindi and pakistani pride and culture #also I want bb Jon to have gone to Holi with his parents and laughed and danced and thrown color and known joy #jon sims #jonathon sims #jarchivist #fanon #Hindi!Jon #hindu!Jon #tma #the magnus archives

[backjustforberena]

How would you describe Rhaenys and Meleys’s bond?

I'm really guided by what Eve says about the dragon-bond, specifically with Rhaenys and Meleys. I think she's got a lovely way of phrasing it and has put thought into it and, obviously, she has that in mind whilst playing the character.

So it's hard, for me, to overestimate how important it is when Eve says that they're almost a part of one another - that Rhaenys is a part of Meleys and Meleys is a part of Rhaenys. And then furthermore, when she likened them to the daemons from Phillip Pullman's books - saying that Meleys is really representative of Rhaenys and, moreover, a hidden part of Rhaenys - a manifestation of Rhaenys's inner wildness. She is a Targaryen and dragons are what they are. And when you're couched in Velaryon colours and held at arm's length from your paternal family, that means all the more, visually, on-screen.

Meleys has also been designed to echo her rider. One of the VFX artists describes her as "Regal, matriarchal, older, wiser," Bell elucidated. "Much more royal in the design, the horns are almost crown-like to a degree.", so all this has been done very deliberately. Whatever Meleys displays, Rhaenys is feeling. Whatever Rhaenys is feeling, Meleys displays. To me, it implies that whatever Meleys does, whatever her flights are like or behaviour, is telling about Rhaenys. Whether that's keeping far away from the wake, whether it's instructing Seasmoke, whether it's controlling her temper or doing a dive-bomb (man do I have a stupid amount of feelings about that dive bomb).

I think there are lots of things to consider, both in general with the bond and relationship and then the more specific to this dragon and this rider. We've seen that dragons are very empathetic towards their riders, that, certainly after a while, they sort of seem to create a feedback loop in terms of strong emotions; pain, especially. We know that after a certain point, they don't listen to anyone else. And with Rhaenys and Meleys, they are the longest bond we've seen.

But more than that, I think there's such a level of trust between them. Of respect. And acceptance. I don't know, that's just the impression I get. I don't believe there's any sort of fussing or infantilising of Meleys. I think they're partners. Rhaenys was willing to risk everything to get to Meleys in Episode 09. She was the first thing she asked about when Alicent held her prisoner. They've been together longer than anyone. Longer than some dragons have even been alive. There are decades of experience there.

There is such a contrast to compare Vhagar and Aemond to Rhaenys and Meleys, specifically their control when their emotions and, more importantly, their dragon's emotions are at their peak.

Rhaenys has her dragon in a confined space, surrounded by loud, yelling people, dust, and guards (a threat), after having burst through floorboards. Yet Meleys never does a thing that Rhaenys doesn't want her to do. Even anything that Rhaenys feels like doing, because she is tempted to just tear it all down. But Meleys doesn't burn, she doesn't stop, she doesn't create more carnage than she needs to. Meleys, in herself, is not volatile in that situation despite the massive upheaval and the massive emotions coming off of her rider.

Whereas Aemond, a relatively young bond, under similar strain, loses control a little bit, resulting in an outcome Aemond didn't want, despite many verbal commands - Vhagar does as she feels she needs to.

To me, Rhaenys feels most at home on dragon-back. Most settled in her skin. She spends a lot of time on Meleys, flying. Her saddle was designed to show that and show the interest and knowledge Rhaenys has in that, having her own modifications. She's tried and tested, she's at home, she's still made unbelievably happy by it.

She wears armour, red as her. A necklace of spikes, like her. Now she prepares to go to war and she volunteers herself and Meleys. There's a sense of her feeling safe, so long as she has her dragon with her. There is definitely a sense of pride. They are a team. I think being a dragon-rider is an undeniable and intrinsic part of her. Meleys has been her constant, her friend, her companion, her escape, her freedom, her heritage, her home. Her pride and joy.

Meleys is a reminder of all Rhaenys is and can be.

#house of the dragon #rhaenys targaryen #my gifs #bad meta #<- ironic tag