#The Swan Dress Murders | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

starsinmylatte · 2 months

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𝚃𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚂𝚖𝚘𝚔𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙵𝚘𝚐

Here is my submission for @kentopedia's wonderful Love Through the Ages collab!

➻ Summary: Trapped in the gilded cage of Victorian high society, you were determined to rebel. You ran the streets in disguise at night and threw yourself into your work as a typist for Scotland Yard during the day, rejecting the label of “quiet, submissive woman.” Further rebuffing the ideals of your time, you scoffed at the idea of love and marriage, but a certain blonde Detective Inspector always seemed to make your heart flutter. You’re assigned to work a case under him, and your feelings only grow more complicated… but will your budding romance be able to survive one of history’s most infamous murderers?

➻ Pairing: Nanami Kento x afab!Reader

➻ Rating: Explicit (18+, minors DNI)

➻ Word Count: 8.2k

➻ Warnings: Explicit sexual content and Discussions of the Jack the Ripper case/thematic elements related to the case/time period (rape, poverty, etc.)

➻ Song recommendations (in order):

Toxic- From “Promising Young Woman” Soundtrack performed by Anthony Willis Les feuilles mortes- Jean-Michael Blais The Swan- Camille Saint-Saëns

➻ Author's note: I did a ton of research to make sure I had my details correct, so there are tons of easter eggs hidden in the fic. I had a lot of fun with this one!

Join my taglist here!

Colors flew through the air as you tossed various skirts, bodices, and any other accessories unfortunate enough to catch your ire clear across the room. They hit your quilted bedsheets with an audible thunk as Misato shook her head at your antics, tsking at you from the corner.

“Love, you’ll be late if you carry on like that. Wipe that scowl off and pick one already.”

You shot the maid another half-hearted frown, looking as grim as a young woman clad in only her chemise, garters, and stockings could. Misato strode over with matronly confidence, snatching the next garment out of your hands before it could grace the top of the pile. She held the bodice up, inspecting it in the clear morning light before giving a brisk nod.

“Right then, this will do. It’s posh enough to keep your father happy without all those extra frills and ruffles you hate. Grab that skirt, and let’s get on with it.”

You did as you were told, albeit extremely unenthusiastically. Misato hummed soothingly, draping the familiar weight of a corset around your waist. This was a dance you knew the steps of all too well. You fastened the busk up quickly before bending down to grasp at the foot of the bed, adjusting your decollete into the supporting garment. Misato tightened the laces systematically, just as she had done for every year you’d been old enough to dress as a woman.

Standing back up, you moved your body around, wincing and rolling your shoulders as you reacclimated to the squeeze of the steel boning.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured, dropping your head in apology at the sight of her soft frown. “I know I’m bull-headed, and I know it only causes trouble for you.”

With a gentle sigh, the maid slipped a muslin camisole over your head before moving to fasten a bustle around your waist. “I understand, love. But you’re a woman of society, and you’re to dress as such. Now, bear you in mind, I’d rather die than see you in trousers like the men, but I think there’s a middle ground to be found yet.”

You smiled at her, grateful for the affection, “I know, but I’m still glad to hear it.”

“Who knows… Maybe you’ll finally attract a husband who’ll let you run as wild as you’d like.” The older woman teased you, pinching your cheek affectionately as she slipped several layers of skirt over your head. Her loving prodding pulled an imperceptible flush across your cheeks, and you distracted yourself with the buttons of your bodice. “Lord knows some of those peelers can’t be too horrible to look at.”

“Love,” you scoffed, choosing to ignore the way your mind immediately wandered to a certain stoic, blonde detective, “is for little girls who still believe in fairy tales.”

You continued on, selecting a hat from a drawer. “I work because I want to do something important… something beyond embroidery and gossiping at garden parties. There are people out there who need help, Misato.”

The maid laughed softly, pinning your hat at a perfect, jaunty angle. “I’ve known that since you stood at the height of my knee, but I can still hope to see you happy.”

You bade Misato goodbye with a quick kiss on the cheek, finally venturing out from your family’s warm, comfortable house to wait by the road for your carriage. An icy breeze brushed past as soon as you stepped outside, ruffling through your skirts and causing you to shiver. As you waited patiently, the damp air slowly seeped under your multiple layers of clothing; the strangely oppressive chill only took a few moments to carve beneath your skin like an icy dagger.

Normally, little birds would flitter throughout the small yards alongside the street, filling your morning commute with their cheerful racket, but there was only silence today. Your only companions were the ever-present fog and smoke that blanketed the city, but today, they seemed so much thicker than usual, making the overcast sky feel even more bleak.

Thick tendrils of gloom trailed over the cobblestones, swallowing the flickering gas lights one by one. There were no people on your street this early, no signs of life to be seen anywhere. Another shiver shot down your spine, but this time, it had nothing to do with the cold. The world was grey and eerily silent as the fog finally reached you, blanketing your entire body with frigid mist. The downy hairs on the back of your neck began to stand on end; everything felt off… like an ill omen.

A moment later, the clacking of hooves on the cobblestone echoed throughout the street, and a familiar carriage finally appeared in the gloom. You barely waited for it to come to a stop before you opened the door and climbed in, not caring to observe the proper etiquette.

“Cold, miss? It’s a chilly mornin’ innit?” The driver chuckled, shouting loudly as he snapped the reins, urging the horses to return to their steady gait. “Don’t worry; we’ll get you back inside soon enough.”

“Ah, yes… It is a bit chilly.” You smiled and brushed your actions off with a laugh, but the feeling of dread still weighed heavily on your heart.

Even the horses seemed restless, rolling their eyes and tossing their well-groomed manes back and forth as they plodded eastward. You were grateful to finally see some sense of normalcy as you reached Victoria Street, where people of all ages milled around, setting up their businesses both on and off the street. Shops opened their doors, and street vendors set out their wares, squabbling loudly over placement and price. You smiled wryly as a young boy snatched a steaming pie from the corner of a table, eyes shining with delight as he shoved the greasy pastry into his mouth. He disappeared into the teeming crowd with the shopkeep still blissfully unaware of the theft.

The sight was as endearing as it was heart-wrenching; the cute little boy probably stole out of sheer necessity. If he hadn’t stolen the pie, there was a good chance he wouldn’t have eaten at all today, even in this area of the city. You suddenly felt guilty that you had the privilege of being able to turn down breakfast.

“So much needs to change,” you murmured, drumming your gloved fingers against the lacquered side of the carriage. Most of the people from the upper crust simply wanted to hide the poor away; their attitude was just to keep them out of sight and out of mind.

Your thoughts continued as you looked off into the alleyways and then glanced eastward to where the worst parts of London were concealed. If your family had their way, you’d have never known those parts of the city existed; you’d have been kept on a pedestal in the opulent West End. To them, all you needed was decorative knowledge meant to accent your pretty face and attract a rich husband, but no one had counted on your tenacity. You had been too intelligent, too fierce of a little girl, always demanding answers from your tutors, rejecting their half-baked excuses about the world and how it worked.

Before long, you figured out that not all people grew up similarly. You fished stories out of maids and butlers, learning about how other people suffered in the cruel workhouses and filthy alleyways hidden in the background of the city you loved. But the most appalling thing by far was how little your parents and their wealthy friends seemed to care.

When you turned ten, you convinced Misato to help you sneak out for the first time, mainly by threatening to go even if she refused to be your accomplice, and from that night on, you began exploring the real London. When your parents thought you were safely locked away in your room practicing embroidery, you were actually exploring the streets wearing ragged clothes “borrowed” from the nearest bin. It was dangerous and wholly irresponsible for a lady like yourself, and if anyone found out, your reputation and life would be ruined forever…. So, of course, you loved it.

“It’s no wonder I ended up here, in the last place a ‘lady’ should ever be.” You murmured, smiling as the carriage finally jolted to a stop outside the stately, brick-and-stone building at 4 Whitehall Place. The driver opened your door with practiced ease, and you entered Scotland Yard’s world of cops and criminals.

“Odd, there’s so few people here…” You murmured, arching an eyebrow in curiosity as you walked in and reached your desk.

Typically, the station was filled with men waiting on their orders for the day or waiting to go on patrol. The few men who were present milled about restlessly, and most wore the trademark blue peeler uniform. However, two men were notably different; they were dressed in everyday clothes and stood off to the side of the Chief Inspector’s office. If you didn’t know better, you could’ve guessed they were gentlemen who simply wandered in off the streets.

“I haven’t seen those two before. They must be detectives.” You pieced together, noting the tension that hung heavily around them.

The two men were certainly young to be detectives, but one seemed more experienced and slightly calmer than his counterpart. They each wore black frock coats and trousers, but from there, the appearance differed. The composed man had kind eyes and tawny, disheveled hair covered with a bowler hat, whereas his friend sported a red vest, fluffy hair, and no hat. He looked younger and full of nervous energy; for some reason, his hair seemed oddly…. pink?

You sighed, chalking it up to a trick of the light as you set up your desk for the day. In a valiant attempt to neutralize your own nervous energy, you began to clean your typewriter, stealing glances at the young detectives, trying to parse together what was going on from snippets of their conversation.

“Do you really think- how long will it take?”

“I don’t know, just wait and see.”

Suddenly, two more men you did recognize walked into the room without fanfare. Chief Inspector Yaga led a tall, serious-looking blonde man over to the others, and your heart fell through your chest at the expression on his face. Not many of the detectives treated you well, but in all the time you’d worked there, Detective Inspector Nanami Kento had never failed to greet you with a small smile and a polite greeting every morning at the bare minimum.

This morning, however, his expression could have cut through stone. The stoic man’s lips were set into a cold, hard line, and he didn’t even notice your presence. His dark eyes glittered in intense concentration, and the two young men snapped to attention as soon as he approached them.

Something has happened. Those aren’t the eyes of the gentleman I know… that’s the gaze of a detective entirely focused on his case.

Scotland Yard and its detectives were no strangers to tragedy and brutal events. They carried the weight of investigating the most unspeakable acts people could inflict on each other, but you had never seen DI Nanami look quite this grim. You watched the four men talk quietly for what seemed like ages before they finally walked over to your desk. Chief Inspector Yaga looked you up and down with a critical gaze as if to size you up.

“How can I help you this morning, sir?” You met his eyes calmly, the feeling of dread rising, squeezing your heart once again.

“You’ve been with us for almost two years now, correct?” His gruff voice rumbled through you like thunder promising an oncoming storm.

“That’s correct, sir.”

“And you’ve never had any-” He paused, gesturing around as if searching for the correct word, “trouble with the cases up until now?”

Nanami’s chiseled jaw clenched as the Chief Inspector questioned you. He seemed to be looking just past your face, staring at a spot on the wall in a manner that seemed as though he was willing it to spontaneously catch fire. You didn’t try to hide the way your brow furrowed in concern at the question.

“Trouble, sir?”

He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Deep, dark bruises were blooming under the man’s eyes; it looked as if he had gotten little-to-no sleep for weeks. “I know you’ve certainly heard… more than a few disturbing things in your time here. The paperwork you tend to has details of crimes, and you’re around the men every day…. God knows they don’t know when to hold their tongues.”

You nodded along, still confused and growing exponentially more concerned. His words were true; you’d certainly heard more than your share of gory details from the policemen as they returned from their patrols, whether it was just accidentally overheard or they told you directly as if it would impress you.

“Well… It is never enjoyable, but I deal with it in the same way the men do, sir.” You pointed out deftly, unwilling to seem fragile.

Nanami remained grimly silent, but a small smile played across the corner of his lips as Yaga watched you closely. After a moment of silence, the burly DCI sighed again. “Then there’s a job for you. I am about to ask more of you than I would like to, but you’ve excelled at your current position, and this situation calls for related skills.”

For the briefest moment, you could’ve sworn that you saw Nanami’s fist clench at his side. Still, the stoic man stayed silent as Yaga continued on, “You’ll be working under DI Nanami, and your main responsibility will be to organize and keep a running record of the evidence as it comes in. You’re to help them keep track of any papers they need to revisit during their investigation. Other duties will be assigned as needed.”

Yaga nodded stiffly and walked back to his office, shutting the door firmly as if to signal the finality of his decision. You looked up at Nanami with concern, as the man had barely moved since he arrived at your desk; he still looked silently furious. “Are you… do I need to do anything right now?”

His mood seemed to shift to calm in an instant. “No, nothing right now. I’ll have a file to give you as soon as I return, but I do need to introduce the case to you so that you’re not blindsided when you… see it.”

Nanami motioned for the two young detectives to step forward, “First, this is DC Itadori, and this is DS Ino. They will also be working under me for this case; if you have any issues and I’m unavailable, you can go to them.”

The two young men tilted their heads in polite acknowledgment as they were introduced, each giving you a small smile, almost like the one Nanami usually reserved for you.

Ino spoke first, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss. Even under these circumstances.”

Itadori nodded enthusiastically, “Yes! It isn’t often we get to work with a-”

“And I think it’s time for us to go secure transportation to the scene. You’ll have to excuse us.” Ino butted in quickly, placing a firm hand on Itadori’s shoulder and hauling the young man away, blatantly ignoring his noises of protest.

You turned back to the Detective Inspector, whose expression was unreadable as he sighed, “He means well. Please forgive him.”

A small, reassuring smile touched your lips as you gazed up at Nanami, “I’m not offended, Detective. I’m no shrinking violet and a bit of levity won’t go amiss every now and then.”

Your small quip made the blonde man chuckle lowly despite the situation. “I’m well aware. But this case….” His expression shifted once again. “I don’t like involving you in it.”

Hurt shot through you, stabbing through your heart with a dull ache. You had worked alongside him for two years, and he’d never seemed like the other men who constantly doubted your abilities for the supposed sin of being born a woman. You liked this man; you had trusted him.

“Do you really not think I can be of help?” You frowned as indignation seared through your veins.

You must’ve looked truly hurt because Nanami shook his head. “It has nothing to do with ability. You should know that I hold your abilities in high regard, but…” he said softly, “this case- it’s nothing like you’ve ever seen before, and you should never have to see things like this. No one should.”

Your firey attitude froze instantly, turning to shame as you realized his true intent. “Forgive me, I’m used to….”

A flush crept across your cheeks as you took a deep breath, smoothing the fabric of your skirt and regaining your professionalism.

Why is it so easy for me to make a fool out of myself in front of you?

“ I understand,” he murmured, studying the typewriter in front of you with a strange intensity. “You may as well come into my office and have some tea.”

–

It took you no time at all to understand exactly why everyone seemed on edge and why the Detective Inspector was so affected by the case. You had read files of violence, murder, and rape before, but what Nanami had to sit down and tell you was beyond all of that. There was a monster, some sick freak brutalizing and murdering women throughout the streets of Whitechapel. He toyed with and desecrated their bodies, and all evidence suggested that he had acted multiple times and was going to continue unless he was caught or killed. This wasn’t some random act of criminal violence or murder of passion committed by a jilted lover…. this was something only the devil himself could be capable of.

The warmth of the teacup against your hands brought you some comfort, but you couldn’t bring yourself to drink any of the tea. Your stomach roiled violently; you were suddenly immensely glad you’d skipped breakfast as Nanami softly explained what had happened to the women and the events that led to Yaga deciding that you’d join his team.

“They found another body this morning,” he spoke plainly, but his deep brown eyes roamed over your face, his expression full of gentle concern. “Worse than the last, even.”

You glanced at the thick file in front of you, your stomach lurching as your eyes landed on the sketch of the previous victim. If it was only growing worse… God, you couldn’t even imagine…. The room suddenly felt too hot, your corset too constricting as you leaned forward, fighting the bile that rose in your throat.

Nanami was by your side instantly, his large hand warm and soothing on your back as he knelt beside you with surprising grace. “If you don’t want to do this…. I understand. I swear I do. Just say the word, and I’ll have you home.”

It took a brief moment, but you swallowed thickly and straightened up, your eyes glittering in determination as you gazed down at the kneeling man. “No. I can’t- I won’t- sit idly by, knowing I had a chance to help, even if it’s just in a small way.”

An entire moment passed as the two of you stared into each other’s eyes. Nanami rested his hand on yours for a brief moment, giving it a gentle squeeze, and you could feel your brain short-circuit. You were much closer to a bachelor than society would deem appropriate, but the desire to uphold proper values wilted against your need for comfort.

The moment was over quickly, and the Detective stood, brushing dirt off his tan pants. “It’s time for me to head out to the crime scene. I’d like you to use my office while I’m gone.”

Nanami gave you an achingly soft smile, the exact smile you had craved before he tugged his coat on, slid his unique, round glasses into place, and left the room.

–

Weeks turned into months, but the monster who called himself Jack the Ripper still hunted the women of Whitechapel. It didn’t take long for the press to run with the story, drawing more attention to Jack than his victims. An endless flow of letters and tips began to pour in every day, and the monster had even penned a few himself, mocking the police for not being able to catch him yet.

You spent every day working beside Nanami, who insisted you move into his office, claiming you could work more comfortably there. The attraction you felt towards the stoic detective grew as you spent more time with him, sharing the intimate workspace. He was always so busy and stressed beyond measure, but he was unfailingly kind and considerate of you. In return, you went above and beyond your assigned duties to care for him. You ensured that Nanami ate as regularly as possible, brewed him tea when he was having a particularly hard day, and provided him companionship.

You had always known that Nanami was intensely intelligent and focused, but he truly gave all of himself to this case. Unfortunately, the Ripper seemed to be a shade able to pass through walls for all the helpful clues he left behind. You watched, feeling utterly helpless, as the pile of bodies grew and the dark circles under Nanami’s eyes deepened. Despite putting on a brave face, he seemed frustrated and permanently exhausted; if you had to guess, he even slept at his desk some nights.

As the case progressed and even more women were killed, Nanami made it a point to make sure you were safe, even though you lived on the opposite end of London from where the murders occurred. You reassured him that you’d be fine, but he still gifted you a small firearm, a Derringer, that you kept tucked in your handbag every single day as both a good luck charm and a deterrent. The detective also insisted on escorting you home at night, and on the rare nights he was unavailable, he sent Ino or Itadori in his stead.

However, most nights, you only waited inside for an hour or two before sneaking back to the streets. You were convinced the people who frequented the bustling pubs and taverns of Whitechapel had to have more information. Many people weren’t keen on sharing any information with the police, but you knew they’d talk amongst themselves and certainly to a pretty girl at the bar. You knew it wasn’t smart, but you were determined to help in every way possible; too many women were living in fear. However, a small part of you did know that you were also desperately trying to ease Nanami’s burden.

Even though you were determined, you still felt incredibly guilty about the situation. It would undoubtedly drive Nanami mad with worry if he knew what you were up to, but you promised yourself that it was safe enough, that you’d always sneak back home before nightfall. You had even planned only to visit pubs on Whitechapel Road itself, knowing that proximity to the main road made your outings safer. Weeks passed as your covert outings continued without a hitch, but one night, everything changed. You had been far too distracted by the bartender you were conversing with, and before you realized it, the sun had fully set. You might’ve been right on the main road, but you were alone in Whitechapel after dark, where the monster was certainly lurking in the shadows.

Every bump in the night made your heart seize in fear as you started down the street, desperately heading back toward safety. You managed to make a decent headway, but the sound of a familiar voice stopped you dead in your tracks. Nervously, you glanced around to find DC Itadori at the building right in front of you, blissfully unaware of your presence as the young man chatted with a passerby.

You knew that the proper thing to do would be to approach him for help, to admit that you had made a mistake, but you couldn’t ignore the small voice in the back of your mind that whispered, “You know he’d tell Nanami, right?”

Telling DC Itadori would be bad enough, but the thought of his mentor being disappointed in you or even hurt by your actions made your heart lurch.

“It’ll be just a quick detour,” you promised yourself as you turned and headed down the closest alleyway.

Your journey was fine for the first few minutes, but it didn’t take long for you to garner unwanted attention. Your dress lacked the finery you usually wore, but it was still the dress of a respectable woman, and this dark alley was no place for any woman. Drunken men leered at you from every shadow, trying to coax you closer. You ducked and weaved your way out of their clumsy attempts to grab you, but you were forced to run down alley after alley to avoid them. The familiar weight of the Derringer that you’d tucked into your garter was the only comfort you had as you fled deeper and deeper into the heart of Whitechapel. An icy chill crept down your spine as you grew painfully aware that you’d gotten lost in the maze of alleyways.

Thick, oppressive fog curled throughout the already cramped alley as you hurriedly turned the next corner, only to hit a dead end. Your blood ran cold, and tears of exhaustion and fear ran down your face as you glanced around, desperately trying to figure out where you were, but it was useless. The fog was too dense, and you were too lost. Two sets of footsteps were still following you. You could hear them approaching faster and faster, and you shrank back into the corner in fear, reaching under your skirts for the cool metal of the pistol as a last resort-

Suddenly, you heard the sounds of a brief scuffle around the corner, followed by the sickening crunch of a nose shattering. A man yelled out in pain; you could hear him sprinting back down the alley as another voice rang out into the night, “Miss, are you alright?”

You could’ve wept at the achingly familiar, husky tone as your Detective Inspector appeared out of the gloom, lantern in hand.

“I seem to have made a mistake,” You managed weakly.

Nanami froze instantly at the sound of your voice. He raised the lantern to illuminate your tear-stained face, and a look of sheer horror broke over his handsome features. You crumpled against the wall, and the Detective Inspector rushed forward to support your body, his strong arms cradling you with breathtaking gentleness.

“Are you hurt?” He asked quickly as his gaze scanned you over systematically, desperately searching your body for any sign of injury.

“No, just cold, afraid….. and more than a little ashamed. Thank you for saving me.” You admitted meekly, fighting the urge to lean into his warmth.

Nanami groaned audibly in relief, tipping his head back as if thanking god. His arms tightened around you slowly as he embraced you, holding you against his broad chest while you shook with latent fear. You flushed furiously as you reciprocated his embrace, drawing enough comfort from his presence for your heartbeat to calm.

“You’re trembling,” he murmured, voice low and soothing. “let’s get you somewhere safe, and then you can tell me why you’re out here.”

“I can’t go home. It’s too late; I won’t be able to get back in until morning when my maid returns. Perhaps I should rent a room here for the night? No one will know me this far out. I do have some money.” You rambled, trying to keep from crying even more.

Nanami sighed, stepping back slightly to look into your eyes. “I’m not leaving you out here alone. It won’t be ‘proper,’ but I’d like to take you somewhere where I know you’ll be safe.”

You felt a pulse of clarity flow through you, and you placed a hand on his muscular forearm, gently squeezing it in reassurance. “I trust you.”

The detective’s warm, brown gaze softened as he saw the honesty written across your face.

“One more question, then. Do you think you’re up to walking? I could carry you, but that may draw more unwanted attention.”

You shifted on your feet, testing them out. “I think I’ll be alright.”

Nanami smiled down at you before deftly unfastening his tan, woolen greatcoat. He draped it over your shoulders with heartbreaking gentleness, ignoring your mild noises of protest as he secured it around you.

“It’s cold tonight,” was all he said as he offered you his arm.

You held onto him tightly, instantly comforted by his solid frame and the quiet strength Nanami carried himself with, even in a tense situation like this. You had never been more terrified only moments ago, but now you felt safe and protected, almost warm despite the cold air around you.

“Thank you…. It is quite comforting.” You murmured.

Nanami smiled down at you briefly before guiding you through the maze of alleyways, letting you dictate the pace. Funnily enough, the fog seemed to dissipate as the two of you walked down the streets of London together. You could see the stars twinkling above you, and if you didn’t know better, the two of you could’ve been a couple out on a nighttime stroll together.

Time passed quickly as you walked together in comfortable silence, and soon, you arrived at a comfortable-looking townhouse near Bedford Square. Nanami unlocked the door without any preamble, ushering you inside out of the cold. He led you up the stairs into a tastefully furnished drawing room with a beautiful bay window that overlooked a moonlit garden.

“Please, make yourself comfortable,” he encouraged, leading you towards a plush settee. Nanami busied himself with lighting the ornate fireplace as you curled up against the arm of the furnishing, still wrapped up in his coat. You snuggled against the soft wool, surreptitiously enjoying how it smelled of his fresh, woody cologne undercut with the deeper scent you could only describe as his.

As soon as Nanami finished tending to the fire, he began to pace around the room in a manner you knew meant that he was thinking deeply about something.

“What is it?” You asked softly, almost afraid of the answer.

He took a deep breath and stopped pacing, turning to look at you. Nanami’s expression held no anger as the firelight flickered across his face, but a profound sadness filled his beautiful brown eyes as he spoke, “I don’t think you understand what it would’ve done to me if you were the next body found.”

You dropped your head, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as Nanami continued his pacing, “When I realized it was you in the alley, I- I thought the absolute worst had happened.”

He ran his hands through his hair, pacing even more frantic as he tousled the normally neat blonde strands. “You must know by now…. You have to know…”

Nanami turned to you once again, dropping his arms to his side in defeat. “I love you.” He rasped, voice raw with emotion. “I’ve known for months. I didn’t think I could court you properly until I caught this bastard, so I didn’t say anything. You don’t deserve to be associated with me if I fail, but after tonight, I just can’t take it anymore. I understand if you say no, if you need a better man, but-”

He didn’t get to finish his sentence. In the blink of an eye, you flung yourself across the room and into his arms. Nanami caught you in surprise, scarcely able to believe he wasn’t dreaming as you clutched desperately at his sides. Uncontrollable tears fell from the corners of your eyes as you gazed at him in unabashed adoration.

“I love you too,” you confessed, “ I don’t think a better man exists.”

That was all the encouragement he needed. Nanami smiled lovingly, softly as he leaned down to press a slow, feather-light kiss against your forehead. You sighed in bliss, and the detective breathed deeply as if he hadn’t had fresh air in months. Months of stress and fear melted away from both your bodies, the negative emotions paling in comparison to the warmth of your love. Nanami ghosted more kisses across your cheeks and nose, taking his time to savor every inch of your beautiful skin before finally pressing his lips against yours.

The kiss was soft and sweet. Your eyelashes fluttered shut, and you acted purely on instinct, leaning further into his embrace. One of Nanami’s strong, steady hands moved to cup your waist, holding you like precious china as your lips parted from the chaste kiss. As you shared another intimate breath, his other hand slid under your chin, tilting you forward to capture your lips again.

“Marry me.” He mouthed against you, voice rough with emotion. “Let me protect you, love you, worship you. I want to hold you in my arms, to keep you by my side until I die.”

“Yes,” you nearly pleaded, clawing at the material of his blue vest in an attempt to somehow pull him closer. “Kento, please…. I’m yours.”

He groaned desperately at the intimacy of his first name on your lips as his hand moved from your waist to wrap around your back possessively. Nanami trailed his other hand to cup your jaw as he kissed you even more passionately, almost devouring you whole. You had kissed before, but it was only mild, adolescent flirtations with boys you didn’t bother to remember; it was nothing like this. This kiss was searing, threatening to burn you from the inside out if you stopped for even a second. Your chest lay flush against Nanami’s, your body moving against his in a way that made his trousers grow uncomfortably tight.

Nanami realized instantly and broke the embrace, stepping back to hide the way his cock strained against the fabric. The desirous look in your eyes and your attempt to follow him nearly shattered his resolve completely, but he touched your shoulder gently.

“It will get increasingly hard for me to remain the gentleman you deserve if we continue.” He warned breathily, a light dusting of pink gracing his cheekbones. “If you need, I can go stand outside until morning.”

A whimper left your kiss-swollen lips. Your body ached in a way you’d never felt, craving the sweet burn of his touch in places you’d rarely explored yourself. The world felt hazy and syrupy as you tried to regain your mind, but it was a futile task. Your breasts felt heavy, your nipples sensitive as they rubbed against the fabric of your chemise.

“That’s not what I need,” you pleaded, and Nanami shuddered.

“Can you tell me what you do need?” He murmured, taking a tiny step towards you.

“Kento, I-I’ve never done this before,” you stammer, blushing furiously and shrinking back in embarrassment.

Immediately, Nanami is at your side, holding you tightly once again. “That’s nothing to be ashamed of, darling. I wouldn’t love you less either way. All it means is that we’re on equal footing here.”

He pulled you into another hug, intent on soothing you further as your mind spun.

“You’ve never….?” You questioned softly.

“No,” Nanami murmured, “I haven’t been with anyone.”

“That does make me feel better,” you admitted, biting the swell of your lower lip. “What I’m feeling right now is new…. strange, even. I want you to touch me so badly that it hurts.”

Nanami groaned again, pulling you against his broad chest; he could easily feel your heart racing, and he wasn’t faring much better.

“Do you want me to touch you now, or do you want me to wait?” He asked, voice deadly calm.

“I think I’ll die if you wait,” you pleaded, pawing against his vest again.

He chuckled roughly, grasping your wrist and pulling it to his lips. Your breath hitched as he kissed the tender skin of your pulse point, savoring the way your pulse raced under his touch. Without further preamble, Nanami reached down for your skirts, slowly drawing the fabric up past the soft leather of your garters. He reached down, tracing up your thigh with his fingers until they caught the cool metal of the Derringer, which you had completely forgotten about.

Nanami tugged it free as he kissed you once again. He smiled into the embrace, pulling you with him as he stepped over to set the small gun on a nearby table. You glanced at him in astonishment, unsure how he had known. As soon as the firearm was safely put away, he scooped you up into his arms with another soft laugh, “Darling, what kind of detective would I be if I didn’t know?”

You smiled up at him, “I suppose you do have a point, darling.”

He sighed in bliss as you turned the affectionate nickname against him. You traced your hands up Nanami’s broad chest greedily, slipping them over his shoulders for support as you leaned in for yet another desperate kiss, unable to sate your desire for his lips. He somehow managed to walk and return the kiss at the same time, only stumbling slightly as he brought you into another room.

You giggled against him, and he smiled, devouring the sweet sounds and eager to hear more. Nanami leaned down, setting you gently on his large bed. He pulled back to gaze at you in utter adoration, loosening his golden cravat and undoing the buttons of his blue brocade vest. He discarded them both, leaning forward to cage you between his arms as you drank in the sight unashamedly.

“You know it isn’t proper for me to see you in just your shirtsleeves yet,” you teased, snaking your hands up his arms and growing bold enough to nip at his bottom lip.

“I don’t think anything that we are about to do is too ‘proper,’” Nanami smiled affectionately as he circled his hands around your corseted waist, pulling you forward to sit at the edge of the bed. He unfastened your boots, caressing your stocking-covered feet gently as he set your shoes to the side. Afterward, his hands returned to your waist, meeting in the middle to trace over the small buttons of your green bodice.

“May I?” He implored, voice low and breathy with anticipation.

You nodded, biting your lip nervously. “Please.”

Nanami’s deft fingers began to undo button after button, exposing the other layers of clothing underneath as he went. You’d chosen to forego wearing a camisole, as none of your outerwear was fine enough to need protecting, so he was immediately met with the sight of your corset and the lip of your chemise beneath. The silken chemise you favored was thin enough to be nearly transparent, and Nanami’s breath hitched at the sight of your pebbled nipples peeking over the top of your corset.

He knelt slightly, enraptured by the sight of your breasts rising and falling with every breath you took. Nanami stared at you ravenously as his breathing grew heavier. You blushed prettily, shrugging the bodice off as the once-stoic detective’s tongue darted out to wet his lips. His hands dug into the fabric of his duvet as he fought the urge to caress and kiss every part of your body.

“I want to explore every part of you with my hands and tongue,” he confessed with a groan. “I can’t hold myself back much further, but promise that you’ll stop me immediately if I make you uncomfortable.”

You noticed the pupils of his brown eyes were blown wide and dark with lust as he looked at you, fully enraptured but waiting for your response. His expression forced an involuntary whimper to tumble from your lips, and the heat in your core spiked once again.

“I promise, but please… I didn’t think I could feel something like this.” You begged sweetly, guiding his large, warm hand to rest on the swell of your breasts.

He caressed the area gently, watching your face as his clever fingers explored your soft curves. You sighed in delight as he squeezed and traced the barely-covered skin, prompting him to investigate further. His fingertips grazed your nipple, and your back arched instantly, mouth parting in a perfect “O” at the waves of pleasure that shot through you. Nanami’s gaze grew half-lidded and hazy; he squeezed the small bud in response, and you outright moaned as your core clenched in need.

“Feels good?” He purred, utterly shameless in wanting to learn your pleasure.

You nodded vigorously, unable to speak, as you pulled his other hand to your back. He knelt on the floor, pulling you to stand over him as he reached around to unfasten your skirts and small bustle. They dropped to the floor, and he leaned forward to pepper kisses across your stomach and the tops of your thighs. You couldn’t feel his lips directly for the corset and chemise still in the way, but you could feel the warmth of his body close to yours. The intimacy of him kneeling before you, kissing your body so hungrily, made you throb with need once more. Acting on pure instinct once again, you began to rub your thighs together, desperate to relieve the ache.

He reached for the strings of your corset, successfully untying the knot. Nanami felt around for a moment before leaning back to look the silk and leather garment up and down. The detective chuckled lowly, “Would you mind helping me, darling? This is the first I’ve dealt with a corset, and I’m afraid it’s not as straightforward as the other layers.”

You gazed down at him in adoration, guiding his arms to grasp different parts of the lacing.

“Pull here…. and here.” You murmured, and the corset loosened under your combined ministrations, finally becoming loose enough for you to unfasten the busk.

Nanami watched breathlessly as it fell. He grasped the hem of your chemise, the final major barrier separating him from your soft skin, and rose from his kneeling position to pull it over your head. Finally, you stood before him fully topless, and he shuddered in desire as he removed your drawers.

He picked you up again, setting you back on the bed to work on the layers of his clothing. You whined in protest, wanting to undress him as he had explored you, but he simply shushed you, only speeding up his movements as he spoke through gritted teeth, “Darling, I promise you that we will have ample time for you to undress me later…. but right now, I need you, or I’m going to fully lose my mind.”

Nanami was barely able to choke out the words as he threw his shirt aside, granting you a beautiful view of his muscular chest and the smattering of honey-blonde hair that covered it. His arms were just as well-built, and you bit your lip once again, squirming on top of his sheets as you watched him. Nanami hooked his fingers into the waistband of his trousers, drawing your attention to a patch of coarser blonde hair that trailed down his lower stomach, hinting at what you’d see next.

You felt hot, fully and shamelessly filled with lust as you stared at the outline of his thick cock tenting the fabric. Nanami groaned as he saw your reaction, palming his erection as he started towards you, only clad in his trousers.

“Lay back for me, darling,” he cooed, guiding you onto the mattress. It dipped beneath his weight as he joined you, running his fingers over your leather garters. He pulled them down with his teeth, pressing kisses to the bare skin that forced a litany of moans and pleas from your lips as he rid you of your stockings. Dimly, you realized the space between your thighs was sticky with your own arousal. Nanami realized a split second after you, trailing his fingers up to your core after disposing of the garters and stockings.

“You’re beautiful, gorgeous…. Perfect.” His deep voice rumbled against your ear as he traced his finger through your folds. You shivered and moaned in response, your legs falling open even further, begging for him to explore more. He slid up on the bed next to you, leaning down to kiss your bare, sensitive breasts as he toyed with your soaked cunt.

Nanami carried on like that for a few minutes, noting that you grew the most desperate as he circled the small pearl of flesh at the top of your sex. He caressed it, noting with no small amount of satisfaction that his ministrations made you beg for more and whimper his name. Tension coiled in your stomach as he gently circled the puffy bud and kissed you passionately, relishing the taste of his name on your lips. It didn’t take long for that tension to snap in your stomach like an elastic band, and your back arched off the bed as you came hard.

He growled praises into your ear, teasing his fingers into you as your cunt spasmed around nothing. “My future wife… a goddess.”

Your eyelashes fluttered shut in a moment of discomfort that soon gave way to the blissful feeling of being filled. There was no pain as the other women had complained of; your world was a haze of syrupy bliss as your lover prepared you with his fingers, gently stretching your velvet walls.

Nanami rutted his hips against the bed, delaying his own pleasure until you were ready for him to truly fill you. The two of you moaned and sighed, almost in sync.

“You’re so soft and wet,” he cursed under his breath. “I won’t last much longer… Do you think you’re ready?”

You leaned up to kiss him passionately, mouthing your desperate assent against his lips. Nanami unbuttoned his trousers, unclothing his lower half in record time as you lay back against the sheets, eyes fully glazed over with lust. He spread your legs, slotting his hips between them, and you felt the swollen tip of his cock kiss your needy sex as he positioned himself properly. The two of you were panting, moaning together like animals in heat as he pushed in slowly, desperately trying not to hurt you. You cried out at the stretch, digging your nails into his back, the pain pulling another guttural moan from your lover. Any discomfort quickly turned to blinding pleasure as he sank into you fully.

Nanami paused arduously, his cock twitching, desperately begging for him to move.

“Tell me… when.” He forced the words out through gritted teeth, his expression almost a grimace as he fought the urge to thrust into you.

The warmth and pressure of his body, the feeling of being stuffed full, the feeling of his cock twitching inside you… It was all too much. Your fingers scrabbled at his back, desperate for purchase, as you whined, high-pitched and needy in response. “Now, please- oh, God. Need you now.”

Nanami groaned as he began to move his hips slowly, dragging his thick cock along your velvet walls. He began to move slightly faster as you writhed beneath him, your mind too sex-addled to form a coherent thought or sentence as his swollen balls slapped against you.

Your future husband fucked you slowly but thoroughly, filling the room with the salacious sounds of your lovemaking. A familiar tension began to build in your core, and Nanami groaned as your walls squeezed his cock. Unlike earlier, there was almost no warning as you shot straight over the edge of a mind-shattering orgasm, and you cried out desperately.

Nanami growled and cursed against your neck as your cunt milked his cock, desperately begging to be filled.

“So close. Need… need to pull out.” He rasped, almost whining as he left the plush warmth of your sex. You watched him in a lust-filled daze, melting against his sheets as Nanami leaned back, furiously stroking his cock. He grunted and moaned shamelessly, hips still shallowly thrusting against his hand as he desperately sought bliss. His head tipped back as he panted; you could see a beautiful, rosy flush color his chest and neck, and you wanted nothing more than to kiss every inch of it.

Nanami’s thrusts started to falter from their original pace, and you watched, wholly enraptured, as his brows furrowed and his perfect mouth fell open. He came a moment later with a hoarse cry; thick ropes of his seed coated his hands and stomach in spurts. He stroked his cock a few more times, fully milking out his orgasm before collapsing on the bed by your side. You both lay there in silence for a few blissful moments, basking in the warmth and security of each other’s arms.

“I love you,” you whispered, breaking the silence with a smile.

“I love you too, my darling future wife,” Nanami murmured back, entwining his hand with yours.

Tagging some friends: @pseudowho @saradika @thefact0rygirl @babygirl-leon-kennedy @hereforthesunrise @ashotofspotchka @ironandglass @amyroswell @cassandrablacker @lady-valtieri @justanothersadperson93 @orangecremepuff @belle-smith07 @outspokenbrat @enchantedsylveon @khaleesihavilliard @spam-love @silverliningsandstorms @msniks @panteramarron @eldritchbeauty @unoriginalidea @cindyneko-strider @markleeisdabestdrug @gabbyburgers @its-chickenwing-450 @luneariaa @akiiireix @tojispookiebear @dangoank0 @ifuckinghateschool @barryatsumu @voids-universe @mahgyu @themoonmonologues @byul9158 @starlitnotes @makingtimemine

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aveegrex · 2 years

Text

ONE PIECE DATING HEADCANNONS

Monster trio + Smoker and Crocodile gn!reader, SFW cw: mentions of murder, mentions of blood (all metaphoric), PDA, jealousy

Sanji Vinsmoke:

At first he’s really incredulous, still shocked his feelings are mutual. So instead of his usual over the top antics, you get a smitten clumsy boyfriend who stumbles upon everything he does and says.

“Bonjour appétit", “In this dress you look like a swamp, eh-... A SWAN! I MEANT A SWAN!!” - yeah, he’s a mess at first

In fact, he’s so anxious and nervous that the Strawhats suspect someone might have kidnapped him and they are sharing the deck with an imposter, because for a few weeks he undercooks, oversalts and burns every meal. You decide to step up and put an end to that chaos, sitting him down for a long reassuring talk.

When he gets used to his new status as a taken man, it’s like watching a flower bloom: he’s confident, attentive, his strength grown tenfold.

Expect a lot of touching. Kisses, hugs, cuddles: his head on your knees when you chat with Nami on the deck, his fingers interlaced with yours as you indulge in reading, his legs intertwined with yours as you both doze off at night. This boy has been touch starved for years and you’re the one to make up for all that hunger with.

You’ll definitely be waking up to fresh flowers every morning, even in case the ship has been cruising for days without a speck of land in sight. Don’t ask him how he does that. There are secrets only to be shared between a gentleman and his fridge.

He’ll be super inquisitive about EVERY detail of your daily routine. This precious baby needs to know everything, from the ways you do your hair to your toothpaste preferences and favorite islands in all the seas.

If you have dietary restrictions for whatever reason, throw those at him without hesitation. It’s no disadvantage, but a challenge to him. Lactose intolerance? Hell yeah, prepare your nipples, oats and almonds. Vegetarian? Eat up your steaming veggie stew. No garlic and onions? Fuck those, vampires are hot!

Never misses a single important date or event. I personally hc him as someone who has a tiny notebook in his pocket at all times, so everything that matters is written down, ingrained in both his brain and paper.

Zoro is grateful for your existence since now his quarrels with the cook die down way faster and cost him way less bruises and nerves than before. And he gets to nap longer.

Which leads to an unexpected outcome: on yours and Sanji’s dates and outings you never get interrupted because the mosshead is secretly guarding your calamity from afar, keeping all possible troubles at bay.

On a sadder note: I believe Sanji is a rather self-conscious guy around those he loves and values the most. So it’s hard for him to stand his ground and state his boundaries, since he’s scared of being “too much trouble for you” or “scaring you away”. You gotta be patient and weave the truth out of him. It does get better the longer you are together, but at first you should be on guard for the little tell-tales of his discomfort.

His jealousy is not obvious, but it is there. It stems from the same fear of losing you, so you gotta be the one to initiate the talk in this regard too. Since his adoration and love are pure, and his respect to you is immense, it doesn’t take much explanation convincing that when you’re making Zoro laugh or talking to some other man you still love him and him only.

His flirtiness towards other people dies down a lot when you start dating. He doesn’t turn into a stone-cold robot, of course, still treating women gallantly, but his heart eyes are for you only now.

Most thoughtful gifts ever. He has a special compartment in his brain dedicated to information about you, and his imagination never runs empty on how to make you smile and kiss him in excitement.

Overall score: absolute husband material. Even though he does have flaws, he’s open to growth and listens carefully when you express your discontent with something.

Please treat this baby with patience and care, and don’t abuse his love. He deserves the world.

Roronoa Zoro:

It might seem like Mr Bushido doesn’t undergo any behavioral changes when you two start dating. It might seem so. He does though.

He’s now more careful with his words, which only you, Nami and Usopp pick up on at first. He’s well aware he can be brash and rough around the edges, so even though he’s simply trying his best to be better for you, he perceives being more attentive to other people’s feelings as a way to train this new trait. Wrong route - correct destination. Whatever works, works.

Since you prefer to take your naps on the actual bed and not just shove your body in the corner on the deck, he now does the same thing. Zoro is happy since he gets to sleep with you. You’re happy since he’s treating his body with more care. Chopper is happy since Zoro doesn’t get colds and sore back anymore. Win-win-win situation.

Trains even more. He views himself as your main protector, and although he knows you can stand your ground just fine, he would never forgive himself if something happened to you.

Might forget important dates and details, but does make up for that. It’s not for the lack of attention, but more so of his usual unawareness of temporal and geographical context.

Absolute shit at giving gifts though. He’s not very materialistic, opting for asceticism in his belongings, and he subconsciously transfers the same thought process onto other people. If you need something, it’s better for you to get the thing yourself. If it’s not a necessity, why even buy it?

Eventually (with Nami’s help, Sanji’s patience ran thin here) gets the concept of cute little nothings like flowers, candy and trinkets, but still opts for things of use. Lost a hairband - he’ll buy you the prettiest one. Need a clothing article - let’s go shopping. Your weapon broke down? He’s already at the blacksmith’s with the remains.

He’s not a very touchy person, and absolutely not into PDA. All the signs of affection are happening in private, please and thank you.

Being a pirate with a huge bounty over his head, he’s careful not to show his infatuation with you, since he doesn’t want his enemies to use you as a way to get to him.

But being a loner, he surprises you with propositions to do things together all the time. Training, eating, hunting, picking up food and utilities for the trip - you name it. You’re doing it together.

Even the crew doesn’t know you’re dating for the first couple of months. Luffy was just looking for Zoro once and barged in on two of you making out, quick to announce his discovery in his booming voice. Saving Luffy’s ass from drowning became Usopp’s responsibility for the next few weeks, your boyfriend just watching the captain sink with bloody revenge in his eyes.

His jealousy is more of a “protect the territory” type. He sees outsiders as danger, and is quick to assume the worst intentions. Deep-rooted issue which he dutifully works on with your help.

He spent most of his life alone, relying on no one and needing no one. Joining a crew was a huge step for him, and opening the deepest bottoms of his heart and soul to you is even bigger. He’ll be cautious, awkward at times, rough around the edges, but if he ever hurts you he’ll make it his life mission to make up for that and to never repeat the same mistake again.

In the world where he’s not bound to any land, floating in chase of his dream around, you’re his little anchor that reminds him how precious here and now can be.

Captain Smoker:

Absolutely horrified at the thought of doing something wrong and letting you get too close at first.

Does eventually find great comfort in you, making it his priority to be as open about his feelings and hesitations as possible.

Not very much into PDA, he has a reputation to uphold and begs you to understand that the “White chase Smoker” should stay a bloodhound with a foaming mouth to every single pirate out there. Bloodhounds don’t hold hands with beautiful angels like you. Please. PLEASE.

Allows the crew to see how he kisses you hello and goodbye. Those fuckers should treat you like royalty and serve you tea the second you’re around. If anyone dares to look at you the wrong way, he’ll growl and bark till they piss their pants.

Luffy knows about you.

When in private, melts under your touch and looks at you with bloodpuppy eyes. He worships the ground you walk on, kisses your hands when you’re in his lap, nuzzles his face into your neck. The setting of his job is rough and brutal, cold and has no space for intimacy and love. Smoker gets every ounce of those he can from you.

Let him vent to you about the higher-ups. There might be a lot of swearing, but after he’s done for the day, he’ll hug you tight and mumble sweet nothings into your chest.

Might easily miss the important dates due to his line of work. Buys you a small snailphone and calls you the second he’s free to talk if he’s away on the job. If someone dares to disturb the call, they risk getting murdered, dried into thin paper and used as a filler for his cigars.

The one to call you his husband or his wife the week after you start dating.

Tashigi is now getting her degree as a marriage counselor by the way. Make sure to remind him to cut her a little slack from time to time, the poor girl was not expecting this when submitting her job application.

He struggles with loving words or elaborate gifts and surprises, but when those happen, they stun you for life.

To your surprise, not a jealous type. He’s confident in his partner and knows that you both value trust and loyalty in a relationship. Even if someone advances you romantically, Smoker won’t interfere, just watching from afar amused as you kindly reject.

Sir Crocodile:

Big thick daddy 3000 gives no shit about someone finding out he has a significant other. He’s a fucking warlord, wealthy and powerful man, and it’s his whole damn right to parade you and show you off to everyone around. You’re his prized possession, his love, his one and only.

In fact, he shows you off so openly many people find it straight up obscene and indecent. He has you on his lap in all his meetings, his huge hand resting on your hip or even on your ass. When he wants to highlight how little he thinks of his collocutors, he’ll purposefully feed you berries and fruit from his hand, not even looking at the person speaking, but listening intently. He does it so openly that it’s them who get flustered and embarrassed.

Huge sugar daddy energy. He earned his wealth, he can allow himself to splurge on whatever it is you want. Clothes? He’ll have a separate warehouse built for your wardrobe. Jewelry? Baroque works get overtime to find the rarest pieces. You want to visit some new restaurant? It’s closed for other customers for the whole evening. And don’t even think of getting out of bed with him if you want to eat something, just snap your fingers and everything will be brought to you on a silver platter.

If he misses an important date, no he doesn’t. He’ll only care about remembering your birthday though, other things like anniversaries and whatnot being moved around to fit his schedule. Sorry not sorry.

Takes you with him on every trip. His big ass ship is a fortress, and is fit to accommodate any of your needs and desires.

Does like venting into your neck about his day, please listen to him mumble and whine, it’s a rare sight.

Is very rare to get vulnerable with you, but when he does you know it’s his earnest feelings and emotions being shown to you. Make sure to cup his face and look him in the eyes when he’s in that state, and he’ll go above and beyond to never lose you.

The realization that he loves you dawns on him when he takes off his hook before joining you in bed. He never cared for such consideration before, but with you he just does it on autopilot. He then later extends the “no weapon” rule to any situations where he’s in your presence.

It’s hard to make him jealous though. Like really really hard. What did you think, he’s a mature weathered man with a bottomless bank account, confident in himself and in your infatuation with him. So no, whatever advances someone might try on you won’t ever make his heart sting.

Overall, being in a relationship with Sir Crocodile gives you a very clear sense of stability and security. He’s a lifetime partner. You two are mates for life.

Monkey D. Luffy:

He hasn’t changed a bit since you started dating. Well, of course some habits come and go, some new rules and skills are learnt, but overall Luffy stays the same old Luffy.

He just announced it to the Strawhats one morning, casually chewing on Sanji’s artwork. “We’re together now. We love each other. Is Zoro still asleep?”. And that was it. You do in fact feel like you’ve always dated, because it feels only natural to have him wrapped around you at night, to have him holding your hand, to have him kissing you in the night.

Spends a little more time with you, but since he always liked your company, it doesn’t feel like a change. Although again, if he’s off to do something stupid, he forgets about everyone, including you. That is something to work on, and he’s trying.

Absolutely no jealousy. Like none, what’s that? When you’re chatting away with someone and Nami asks if he’s jealous, Luffy’s like “Huh? Why? We’re together, remember? ”.

Doesn’t understand what PDA is because if he feels like kissing you, he’ll do that right away. What do you mean there are people around? They probably kiss too from time to time.

Might easily say something stupid and hurt you. Needs a lot of explanation on why that was hurtful, but even if he fails to get it, he knows that “if it hurts it’s no go”. So just tell him it was not a nice thing to say and he won’t do that again. Baby’s clueless to social subtones.

Also might easily forget the important date. Again, he’s really not aware of his surroundings, and that includes date, time, location. The guy fell asleep when chasing Crocodile and has thrown Zoro off the ship accidentally more times than anyone can count. He just is not aware. So in this regard, please tell him right in the morning that it’s actually your birthday or anniversary, and he’ll bring you the most unexpected and heartfelt present ever.

Have beef jerky on you at all times and you’ll be best at finding him when he’s lost.

Relationship with Luffy is a journey, an adventure, You’re in for a good time and you live today. Tomorrows mostly don’t exist. Carpe diem.

He loves you with all his heart and soul. If something happens to you, the world is over. Everyone’s fucked. Villain Luffy arc ensues.

MDNI, reblogs and comments are welcome, wish everyone finds their love

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ofmermaidstories · 2 months

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if u were bakugou's girlfriend (which u are) and got to pick out all his outfits what would you dress him in?

okay, okay first of all we gotta establish his style: he seems to favour baggier pants (🙄), and t-shirts. looser fits! i’ve always wondered if that was a deliberate choice on his part—if it hides his build (one of the manga extras says his fits tend to hide how explosively muscular he is), or if it’s like, a movement thing? like, if he had to spring into action while in his civvie gear. because his hero costume pants are also quite baggy, as well, and he tends to fling himself around like a small russian-child training for gymnastics gold medal in the olympics so—if i was buying him clothes, or trying to convince him to try new things, i’d probably keep that in mind. 🥹 because you never know when your rare date-night with your pro-hero boyfie is gonna be interrupted by some asshole with a attitude problem and a quirk to back it up!!! 🥺

so to start with, if i was sneaking pieces into his wardrobe, i’d stick with like, more of the same—the baggy pants, or at least wide-cut legs. maybe a couple of pants or shorts with a lower crotch? i would stick to blacks, and greens and oranges—his brand colours lmao—because he seems to like them. skull motifs, because i doubt great explosion murder god is ever really gonna outgrow that lmaooo. i would make a gift out of a really cool, expensive pair of sneakers. and then a little while later i would start trying to slip in a little more high end fashion. like a pair of tabi boots. 🥹 i’d try and convince him he needs a nice, tailored jacket, for fancy date nights although tbh i think those would be a rare occurrence lmfao. but once i had gained his trust with my choices, i would then slowly ramp up my campaign. 😈

we’re gonna start trying to introduce some creams, whites. bolder graphics. distressed denim. i might make a point of getting him a cool—skulls—bracelet or two, since hori’s drawn him in a couple in official art. i’d buy him a more upgraded, fancy pair of his church loafers lmfaooo. he seems to favour them outside of his hero getup and i’ve always wondered if it’s because he just can’t be fucked dealing with boots outside of his heroics? anyways. i would try and slip in something cutesy—like a decapitated teddy bear hoodie lmaooo—but if he never wore it or otherwise really hated it i would just pout and move on.

a lot of the pieces you see here are like—american and japanese streetwear brands, with a couple of fine-leather craftsmen sneaking in. i’d keep buying like that: japanese brands where the flagship store is tiny and makes you feel like you’re on the inside of a very sparse egg. local designers that try and incorporate some of those traditional physiques into their ranges: hantans in leather or a modern print, for example.

fine leather belts and boots would make more gifts—dickies work pants, because i think he’d appreciate the cut of them. the occasional techgear piece—pants cut like his pro-hero ones, for example. funny tees, maybe a vintage all might one, or an edgeshot piece. 🥺 i’d stay away from jeans just bc i think if he really wanted them he’d get ‘em from jeanist lmfaooo.

there’d be a real pleasure in playing dressups with a man that has the build of a literal superhero, lmfao. i would try really hard to honour his tastes though!!!! maybe wheedle and sulk and bribe with head scratches for more experimental pieces, or ones outside of his wheelhouse lmfao. like there was this really beautiful swan tapestry jacket on one of these sites that i think a man like bakugou—built like a god, with that intense ember glare and that shock of blond hair—would look ethereal in. 😩 but i like bakugou because he seems so decided, in a lot of things, lmfao, and if he didn’t wanna wear something, i think he just wouldn’t wear it. 🥹

#ofmermaidstories-asks #passion for fashion: the dress-up tag #this is why we don’t ask mermie for her opinions about anything involving shopping or clothes bc she will do This 🙏🏽#and then ur all gonna have to sit there and pretend u like it!!!!

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celticbotanart · 6 months

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ALRIGHT, since Halloween is just around the corner and this blog is ALSO about sharing and talking about my full-time hyperfixation (music), I want to make some recommendations of "unusual" or just unknown songs that very well fit the theme! I've mentioned before that I love making thematic playlists and that I have rules for them everything (it's serious shit!!), so I wanna share some of the songs featured in my "Ecclectic Halloween" playlist. The two basic rules I applied for that playlist are:

The song MUST include anything supernatural, spooky, bizarre, "murder/serial killer", classic creature and so on

The song can be of ANY genre; is it metal? Prog? Disco? Electronic? Soundtrack? COOL, ALL ARE WELCOME!

Let's get started!

1 - Rainbow - Tarot Woman

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As an unapologetic 70s dad rock advocate, I HAVE to start with one of my fave bands of the genre! The song begins with a DOPE synth/keyboard solo, and then iconic Dio (the one Dio from Jojo's Bizarre Adventure was named after) comes in with a bunch of cryptic imagery, like the predictions the tarot woman is telling him as she turns the cards side on:

Something in the air Tells me to beware - No, no, no! Her love is like a knife She'll carve away your life - So go, go, go! Beware of a place, a smile on a bright shiny face I'll never return, how do you know? Tarot woman! But I don't know, I don't know!

2 - Blackmore's Night - I Guess It Doesn't Matter Anymore

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From the same breed of the first song, cause Blackmore was the guitar player / composer for Rainbow - except that Blackmore's Night is a project he made way later (late 90s), with his wife Candice Night, who sings all the songs and composes with him. This song is about the CLASSIC tale of someone giving a lift to a mysterious woman they found wandering at the side of the road; when they get to the place she wanted to go and asks to leave, the driver turns around! And the lady, she's suddenly gone!!!!!

Standing in the rain, the cold and angry rain In a long white dress, a girl without a name She stood beneath the light, Glowing like a candle bright I guess it doesn't matter anymore (...) Finally she spoke, 'come pull off the road' Saying she was headin' home I turned and she was gone, I was all alone

3- Loreena McKennitt - The Bonny Swans

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You might be asking: "Oriel, what the fuck, why is soft spoken-christmas songs-traditional folk medieval instruments Loreena McKennitt in this playlist at all??? With a song named like THAT?? What is so scary about pretty glorified ducks anyway?" - And to that I'll say right off the bat this is the most metal song in the entire playlist, and I say this unironically. This song is inspired by an old ballad and it tells about a girl who was drowned by her own sister out of jealousy of her betrothed; the sister kills her so she can have the lad for herself. It already has murder, as you can tell - but it gets WORSE, as the body of the drowned girl floats down the river and is found by a miller's daughter; a passing-by bard then uses the dead girl's bones and golden hair to make a harp that plays on it's own, possessed by the dead girl's spirit???? She (as the harp) asks to be taken to the court, the bard takes her, and AS A CURSED HARP MADE OF BONES the dead girl outs her sister as her murderer, in front of the entire family and the court. Look. If this isn't METAL AF, I don't know what ELSE can be. The "bonny swans" from the title comes from the comparison Loreena makes of the pale girl's body floating in the water, to swans swimming along. kkkkkkkkkkk JESUS.

He made harp pins of her fingers fair With a hey ho and a bonny o He made harp strings of her golden hair The swans swim so bonny o He made a harp of her breast bone With a hey ho and a bonny o And straight it began to play alone The swans swim so bonny o He brought it to her father's hall With a hey ho and a bonny o And there was the court, assembled all The swans swim so bonny o He laid the harp upon a stone With a hey ho and a bonny o And straight it began to play lone The swans swim so bonny o

4- Sting - Moon Over Bourbon Street

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Probably one of the most fun songs in this, because it's a song written by Sting, inspired by Anne Rice's "Interview With the Vampire"! The song is under Louis' PoV, and he laments his current condition as a vampire and also as a man of god, as he wanders through New Orleans's streets. This Sting's live performance of this song (the live in Berlin, 2010) is my favorite by far - there's a whole ass epic orchestra and even a theremin! hehe

I pray everyday to be strong For I know what I do must be wrong Oh you'll never see my shade or hear the sound of my feet While there's a moon over Bourbon Street It was many years ago that I became what I am I was trapped in this life like an innocent lamb Now I can never show my face at noon And you'll only see me walking by the light of the moon

5- AQUA - Halloween

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Yes, THAT AQUA - turns out they DO have more songs other than Barbie Girl, and they actually slap - I was there in the 90s, when the Deep Eurodance Magic was written. I LOVE this one because it has such a fun vibe, and obviously, inspired by the "Halloween" movie franchise - Lene plays as the girl alone at night who receives a call from René, playing as the psycho who's after her. They even act that scene at the begining of the song dsjfhjsdgf so cool!

The sound of shoes, a shadow that moves Something odd is tic tac ticking Someone's in here, I'm so full of fear The telephone is ringing!!

6- E Nomine - Das Tier In Mir

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ONE OF MY ALL-TIME FAVES IN THIS PLAYLIST. E Nomine was (?) a German electronic music project who DARED to mix in dark techno/trance beats AND CHANTS IN LATIN, as this deep-voiced dude sings/borderline-raps in German. ITS HARD TO EXPLAIN, BUT I PROMISE, ITS SO SO SO DOPE. They also sang about all sorts of religious / dark fantasy themes - they have an entire album based on the Bible, which I promise, they made it a LOT MORE RAD AND COOL than it sounds; and another album about the supernatural and all kinds of creatures, like vampires, ghosts, werewolves, demons. "Das Tier in Mir" or "The Animal In Me" is their "werewolf" song - it starts off with this kid singing in Latin about the forest, and the moonlight, and the song goes on with Deep Voice Dude singing under the werewolf's perspective; it even features a dramatic transformation sequence!!

[Latin]The forest is hidden, in the moonlight, My home is the forest In the starlight (...) Dark clouds and dark thoughts, The full-moon night smashes my barriers down. The animal desire that I massacre comes in me. I feel this bloodlust here and now. Deep in the night the twinkling stars, A sweet smell is drawing me into the distance. But careful if my passion gets aroused quite gently in the night And the hunter wakes up in me! (Translation from here - it's rather clunky, but that's the gist of it!)

7- E Nomine - Mitternacht

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Yep! Another one by E Nomine, BECAUSE THEY JUST SLAP TOO HARD. "Mitternacht", or "Midnight" is pretty much about the Witching Hour, all the spirits comes out when the bell strikes midnight!! This one is SUCH A FAVORITE of mine because it sounds EXACTLY what a DJ would play as vampires dressed in fancy, old outfits and masks waltz around in a haunted, opulent manor

When the gondolas are in mourning and the dead's lament resounds horror is breathing down your neck When the clock starts striking cold thick fog is touching you gently ...midnight! [Latin] midnight, dark night, cruelty of the soul the bell is ringing twelve times ...midnight! (Translation from here - same from previous song, kinda clunky but we get it)

8- Dead or Alive - Something In My House

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Another classic banger with the catchiest fucking tune ever, by You-Spin-Me-Right-Round-Baby-Right-Round Dead or Alive, sung by ICONIC genderfucker wizard Pete Burns (the Gender Envy of him in this video is real). I have to admit, this one is SLIGHTLY cheating on my rules, cause the "something in my house" in question is not anything supernatural - it's a metaphor for a gone-wrong relationship, lol. Ngl, I think this is kinda fucking brilliant. But like, the spooky, Halloween-y vibes are all there nonetheless: wolves are howling, Pete is singing in an old castle and looking 200% like a vampire. Even if I'm cheating a little, it still fits!

There is something in my house - my house, It's just a ghost of a long long dead affair, There is something in my house - my house, I just keep a hearing you runnin' on up my stairs, But you're not there

9- League of Legends - Fiddlesticks, The Harbinger of Doom

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Finally, some soundtracks! I don't play LoL, but I absolutely love some of the character's themes, and Fiddlestick's is one of them! For what I've got, Fiddlesticks is like this ancient, nightmare-ish Freddie Krugger-like entity, and BOY, does the song reflect exactly THAT. It SOUNDS like a horror movie, and I'm obsessed about it!!

When fields lie calm and wind stands still (Run home, run home) As the crows make night of the fading Sun (Hide now, hide now) When the trees do bow, as if they weep (Stay down, stay down) Though its light beckons forth, a melody calls out (Too late, too late)

10- The Alan Parson's Project - The Cask of Amontillado

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And!!! Last but not least!! Closing this playlist with THIS ULTIMATE DAD PROG ROCK BANGER, which as you can see, is inspired by Poe's tale "The Cask of Amontillado". In fact, the entire album where that song comes from, "Tales of Mystery and Imagination - Edgar Allan Poe", is inspired by his work. Yeah there are also songs on "The Raven" and "The Fall of the House of Usher" too for example! It's just so cool! But "The Cask of Amontillado" is by far my favorite, specially with the instrumental part at the end, ughhhh <3

By the last breath of the four winds that blow I'll have revenge upon Fortunato Smile in his face I'll say "come let us go I've a cask of Amontillado" (...) You who are rich and whose troubles are few May come around to see my point of view What price the Crown of a King on his throne When you're chained in the dark all alone

This is definitely a long ass post, and I really had to cut it even shorter bc of Tumblr's dumbass video limit, but that's alright. I might even put up a part II, hehe I hope you like the Halloween-y songs recs!!

#music posts #halloween #long posts

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madwomansapologist · 7 months

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figurants still exist even during commercials break | agatha harkness

synopsis: You are lucky. At least, that's what you've spent your whole life believing. After the blip, seeing what the world has become, you finally understood: you were a witch. Afraid of what that meant, you decided to isolate yourself. It would be safer for everyone. You just didn't think you would end up in a sitcom. Or that you wouldn't be the only person to realize that. [6K]

warnings: agatha fantasize about killing you (you want to fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid). mutual hate to reluctant allies to future lovers. sunshine x grumpy. murder (but only if you really think about it. so just don't). reality stone powers. what if... manifesting was a power. probability control. post-blip. discovering powers. blue magic!reader. reader is pretty much a reckless being to the point there is a borderline suicide attempt. curse words. female!reader. wanda maximoff. pietro maximoff (dead). geraldine (monica rambeau). dottie (sarah proctor).

Some people have difficult lifes. Some people need to work hard and don't even get what they want. Some people always lose. Don't matter what they do, don't matter how much they try. Of course you feel terrible sorry for them. You just can't relate.

You don't have the time to count how many times you heard stories about people hating their new haircut. That must be sooo awful. Or that myth that some people don't like how they look in front of a dressing room mirror. And imagine how painful it must be to break a nail.

You can't even imagine how complicated this might be. Life is just... easier for you. You collect coincidences, are best friend with chance, can guess the writings of fate. What else can you say? You're lucky. Very, very lucky.

Yes, you don't know how it feels to miss a bus. And yes, you quickly got a new, better job everytime you got fired. And yes, it's true, you are guilty. At least if having what you want, how you want it, when you want it is considered a crime.

But apparently you are not that lucky.

Because all those things... they don't really matter. Your life wouln't end if you got one or two B grades at school. And breaking a nail probably isn't that painful. At least you think so. Having a bad haircut must be a... humble experience. Working in a horrible job because money is the only thing that separates you from death must be a traumatic lifestyle, but you can do it. You can. Yes, you totally can.

There was only one moment that you needed to be lucky — you didn't want to, you didn't prefer if you were, you had to. You needed to be lucky, you needed to. And in the only moment that really mattered... all that lucky just vanished.

And it only took one snap.

In a moment, you were trying on the earrings you saw through a shop window. Swarovski. You didn't intend on buying it, dear lord, you just wanted to see how they would look on you. Black swans in pavé on two-centimeter pearls. They cost more than half your salary.

And when you turned around to ask if you could try on the white swan pair, all you saw was an abandoned storefront.

There were no more display windows, no more sparkling crystal, no more saleswomen with bright smiles and elegant attitudes. There were no other customers, no mirrors, no white light. No furniture, no movement, no life. Empty. Countertops smeared with dust. Sheets covered the display cases, but dim light filtered through them.

That must be a weird dream. You pinched yourself and the pain surprised you. You could hear your heartbeat, feel your hair tickling your face and your mouth drying. Awake. Alive.

You guess that, well, that mean those earrings... are yours now?

Slowly, you walked to the locked door. The moment you grabbed the dusty doorknob it broke in your hand and the door opened by itself. The light blinded you when you left the store.

Everything was different. Completely different. It wasn't in that street you walked on earlier. These cars... you've never seen anything like this before. And why is it getting dark? You were on your way to work, it's still early. Why it is so dark out of sudden?

Then you noticed the powder... no. Not powder. This was different. These particles came together and in moments there was a person in front of you.

You... No. No. That's not happening. You're not... Nothing made sense. Nothing was right. Your heart began to ache in your chest, your heartbeats deafened you, your mind no longer knew what to imagine.

Horns woke you up. You were in the middle of the street. Have you been walking? You don't remember moving. You tried to cross the avenue, but there were so many cars. Some managed to stop, causing others to hit their rear. Some drivers swerved to the side and ended up hitting other cars.

When you reached the sidewalk, there was only chaos left behind you. And you didn't have a single scratch.

You're lucky, you always knew that, but this... This is not a coincidence. This is not chance. Something is really wrong.

It didn't took you that long to understand what happened. Five years for others, mere seconds for you. For days you felt like you were trapped in a nightmare. But there was one thing that kept you on your feet. One thing that stopped you from going batshit crazy.

Your luck. Or, well, something else. Entirely. You can't call it luck anymore. It's a Thing. A Thing that helps you, that protect you, that shapes the world around you.

Little by little, you started to notice things. How you never got sick. How you don't remember feeling pain. You just don't. Nothing bad really happened to you. Your life wasn't perfect, and certainly you don't enjoy being blipped for five years, but before that nothing bad happened to you.

And the world has changed a lot. Its been so long since powerful people started to show up. And you saw somethings. They were really so different between one another, from a nordic deity to a rich genius, but they were more than normal people. And since you come back, you think you might be more too.

So you made a decision. And you assume it was reckless. You assume it may have gone really wrong. But you never were know by your caution.

You started to test that Thing. You started to try it out. To play with its limits. To see at what point it would stop working. At what moment it would break.

You crossed the street without looking. Let knives fall towards your feet. Went to places without knowing how you would get out of there. Ignored police warnings. Touched bloodstained blades. Walked towards the subway stop. Took off your belt during turbulence in the plane.

You did everything you could, but it just wasn't enough. Not enough to prove that something wrong was happening to you. So you did something else. Something stupid. Something so uterly reckless that it was borderline a suicide attempt. Something that, if you survived, would mean that you were right.

You had no idea it was so easy to climb over the railing of a bridge and hang over the river. Shouldn't it have some kind of protection? What if someone tried to do something to themselves?

You hesitated. You prayed. And then you jumped.

In your defense...

You have none.

Except that you didn't fell into the water.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Westview wasn't on Agatha's initials plans. She didn't plan on going to a bankrupt small town in the middle of nowhere. Agatha could be anywhere, doing anything, but she sensed it. The power. The desolation. The inexperience.

It was such a strong presence it seemed like a trap. Agatha couldn't help but to give it a chance. The reward was worth the risk.

When she saw the hex, Agatha couldn't help but feel hunger. Crossing the deep layer that separed the town from the rest of the world, Agatha was able to read the signs. Read the project signature so to speak. That made her giggle in antecipation.

Agatha got so melancholic when Thanos snapped and Wanda Maximoff was turned to dust. She had so much potential. Within good condition and time, Wanda could grow. She could become stronger, wiser, effective. Agatha always wanted to drein it from her.

Now she has the chance.

And that's how she became Agnes, the nosy neighbor. She enjoyed the black & while aesthetic, and its been long since Agatha got the chance to have fun with her prey. Pretending to help Wanda with her special dinner, Agatha settle everything for her to fail. For her to wake up from this humiliating dream and left those stupid things behind.

She assumes that making Mrs. Hart beg for Wanda to stop was a little too much. Agatha thought she needed to be abrupt, sudden, but it's not the case. That dinner was too much. Agatha needs to be more subtle, more unerving.

There was the moment she came up with Dottie. Intimidating, but not violent. Assertive, but not too aware of her surroundings. Confrontational, but too busy to focus on something.

Dottie was the perfect character to ruin Wanda's ilusion. It was suppossed to create just the right amount of fear and anxiety to make Wanda stop that bullshit. It was suppossed to be the end of Agatha's struggle and the beginning of Wanda's. It was suppossed to be so many things.

But you.

Disobedient, friendly, conciliatory you.

"We only have a few hours until show time", Dottie picked on Wanda's distraction as quickly as she could. Such a great pawn. "So a little less cross chatter and a little more focus."

Wanda tried to hide her embarrass. When she was about to say something, you placed your glass on the table, drawing everyone's attention to you.

"I agree with Geraldine. Those are some really nice pants, dear", you smiled to Wanda. Looking at Dottie, your smile seem to grow even bigger. "Please, go on, Dottie. It's an honor to count with you to bring a smile to those little boys and girls. For the children."

"For the children", the women spoke in unison. Except by Wanda, who was followed by a laugh track. The same thing happened during the round of palm.

Whenever Dottie was about to make Wanda uncomfortable, you found a away to step in. You pest. You kept on smiling at the wrong moment, reassuring Wanda whenever she couldn't understand a social clue, making Dottie laugh and lose track of what she was saying.

Agatha was so close of snapping your neck. She could see life escaping from your eyes, your warm blood against her skin, your pain emanating until there were no you anymore. Agatha didn't care if you weren't her target, if she wouldn't take any power from you: she wanted to see you dead.

But Wanda would notice your abscence on this stupid nightmarish town.

So Agatha tried to stop you. To lure you into being quiet, into being mean to Wanda, into saying you needed to go. Apparently Wanda's desire for you to be the kind, young neighbor was too strong. Perhaps Agatha thought too little of her.

What Agatha didn't know was that she'd also underestimated you.

As soon as Wanda wasn't near she grabbed your wrist and pulled you to a more private place. "Stop talking", Agatha said through her teeth. "And don't be near Wanda."

Your smile was filled with distrust, but she didn't notice it. "Sure, Agnes", your sweet words were almost replaced by an incredulous laugh, but you managed to hold back. You blinked to her, still into your character. "As you wish."

You watched as that lying bitch went closer to whisper something on Sarah's ear. No. You have to make sure to remember to call them by their fake names. So you watched as that lying bitch whispered something on Dottie's ear.

You did as Agnes — or whatever her name is — said, but not because she could control you. You did it because you had a lot of questions, and you knew that being subtle was your only way to maybe get some answers.

You're getting to know Wanda. Trying to understand if she has control of what is happening. If she even understands what she's doing. Wanda is a hero. She saved so many, fought so much, lost more than someone should ever. Your know that someone must be controling her. Using her. You just don't understand for what.

But why that fucker was pretending to be part of that town? Agnes wasn't here before. She wasn't here even at the time this whole magic trap started. Why did she entered the town? What did she expect to get from here? Why she is stronger than your neighbors?

Agnes isn't the only intruder. Geraldine also is not from here, but she don't seem to get a say into what happens. Agnes ordered you to do what she wanted, Geraldine seem like someone trying to get information. While one treated you like a brain-washed puppet ready to obey, the other tried to understand why you were in this situation.

And honestly, you also don't really know. At the time it seem like a wise decision. But now... Now it just looks like you're unlucky. And you never thought you would believe such a thing.

Your powers were the reason why you runaway from NYC. Not even a million dollars would made you stay there, not now that you are so sure you have powers. It would be only a matter of time for you to end up drawing atention. This city looks like it has magnets to super villains. You didn't want to fight anyone, to be part of any group, to fear for you and your loved ones safety.

Moving on was great. You got your house in such a great deal. And in Westview you can really breath in. The world is crumbling, the blip made everything worse, but there... There you feel like a person, not like a being that lost five years of your life. You felt a little bit less empty.

You planted blue lilies. You didn't know you had a talent for gardening, it was a nice surprise. Sarah Proctor and her daughter welcomed you with chocolate cake and cherries. Your favorite. For the first time in your life you bought a welcome mat. Sharon — now Mrs. Hart — became your gossip buddy.

It was nice there. Westview was a good place to grow up and rest a little bit. You would even say it was perfect. Until it happened.

At first you thought it was just a weird sensation. You had weird dreams, dreams that looked like someone else's memories. It was entering in rooms someone had just left. Or knowing that someone is just waiting for you to get out of a room to enter it. It was words that didn't felt like yours, actions that didn't felt like yours, clothes that didn't felt like yours.

You felt trapped, but couldn't see your jail. Today you woke up after a nightmare that wasn't yours, put on clothes you never saw, and walked towards a neighbors meeting you didn't know would happen. And in that moment, when you saw Wanda entering the club area all your neighbors were silently waiting for her, you woke up.

You could hear Wanda whispering into your mind. Sending you directions of what to do, what to say, what to think. After you started to help Wanda you could also hear Agnes' instructions, normally going against Wanda's ones. They wanted different things from you. Wanda wanted empathy, Agnes wanted you away from the avenger.

So you gave them both what they wanted.

You didn't talk to Wanda for the rest of the meeting or got near her. But whenever you felt that she was scared, or uncomfortable, you just did something to draw atention to you. Dropped a glass, spoke louder than you should, fell into the pool.

For Wanda, you were the comic relieve she needed. For Agnes, you kinda of behaved.

"Wanda", Dottie called the redhead when she was almost getting out of the pool area. Wanda came back with a bright smile and anxious eyes. "You were selected to clean the area today."

"I'm so lucky to help", Wanda's smile got even bigger. So obviously fake. "Who else will help me?"

"No one", Dottie blinked. "It's work for one woman."

"I can help", you raised your hand. "Two brains are better than one, and four hands get the job done."

Before anyone could speak, you felt arms getting intertwined with yours. Agnes gave your forearm a gentle squeeze, her flashy smile catching your attention. "Haven't you agreed on helping me with my presentation? If I depended on Ralph's help I know for sure that everything would just explode."

You forced an sweet laugh, pretending to know what she's talking about. "Sorry, Wanda. But the next time you're selected, I gonna help you for sure."

"It will be soon", Dottie whispered. "Now you both should finish your own presentation. And don't forget-"

"For the children", you three shouted at the same time.

That made Dottie relax a little bit. Poor, Sarah. It may be something your mind made up, but you see melancholia on her eyes. She must be so scared. If everyone here can also hear Wanda's instructions and nightmares, than she's also so tired.

Will the Avengers came to help? Will they save everyone and defeat whoever is controling Wanda? Do they even know this is happening?

What can you do? What should you do?

Agatha started walking, what made you do the same. You kept yourself quiet, unsure if this curse made Westview' citizens stay in their character even if they are away from Wanda. You forced a smile, just in case.

"I'm guessing Ralph isn't a helpful..."

Agatha held your wrist, her nails marking into your skin. "Quiet", she ordered. You chose to do as she said. And you did it with a smile.

Walking throught the neighborhood, Agatha didn't even knew she was making you a favor. You spend the last days locked into the same scenario, and just now you could understand what was happening to your brain. With Agatha forcing you to follow her, she gave you the chance to see how things are going.

Even without Wanda near, all your neighbors acted how they were suppossed to. Infinite smiles, chores done perfectly, key phrasew repeating here and there. But the more you walk, the more haunted this town seems. The more lifeless it is.

And when you almost thought this all may be just a bad dream, Agatha pulled you against a wall. Surprised, you didn't knew how to react when she grabbed you by your chin.

"Wanda worked a lot on you." Her eyes glowed with a deep purple tone. Her hands were warm against your skin. "So obedient to her, so difficult to work with." Agatha looked into your eyes. It was so difficult to keep on looking at her, but you did it anyway. "I'll love to break you."

Before you could open your mouth, she touched your forehead and a electric wave passed through your body. When you opened your eyes again, Agatha was still in front of you. But her eyes, her forest green eyes, were lifeless.

And with a certainty you never expected to have you just knew: Agatha was into your mind. You could feel her wandering. Exploring. Trying to find a breaking point hidden inside of you and destroy it.

And you just couldn't just let her do whatever she wanted to you.

You didn't knew how your magic works. You don't know if you can be considered a witch. All you know is that reality bends towards your needs and desires. So you did the only thing that has always worked for you.

You thought about what you want to happens. You desired it with all your being, closed your eyes and begged to have what is yours, and waited. So you waited.

And before you could say hocus pocus, Agatha blinked. She spend a few seconds just looking around, completely lost. It remember you of all the times as kid where you woke up in your bed, so scared and confused because you had slept on the couch.

"I was", Agatha dry tone come out. Not those high pitches she uses to appear friendly, her real voice. It was so different. So mature and certain. "What was I doing?"

"I thought you were about to kiss me", you still used your fake tone. "I'm not Ralph, sweetie!"

Agatha stared at you, but this time you didn't feel threaned. You just felt seen. She looked at every detail, not caring about the time she was wasting. Agatha analized your eyes, looking deep into your soul. Her gaze seem to carress your skin, shivers went down your spine. Agatha eyes landed on you mouth for a second, and then came back to your eyes.

"Yes." Agatha like she has touched something secured and received a chock. "You're nothing like him." It wasn't a fight nor a battle, but she felt like she lose one. "What are you?"

Something glimpsed in your eyes, Agatha was sure she seem it. Did her little tricky woke you up from Wanda's magic? But at the moment she was sure something happened to you, that same bright smile came back to your face. "Clearly not Ralph", your forced laugh hurted Agatha's ear.

Agatha made you follow her, but this time she didn't felt the need to be violent. Her silence wasn't a threat, but a sign that she was thinking. Maybe Wanda is stronger than she thought. Maybe she was able to create a protection barrier in some of her play things.

But that does not change what she saw in your life yes. When Agatha made sure Dottie would behave, for a few minutes she saw pure fear. Dottie tried everything to get help, then everything to get away from her. But you... She didn't saw fear.

She saw determination.

When you both got near to your house, right in front of Wanda's, everything was normal again. Neighbors talking more, their gestures making sense, their eyes not showing any emotion. Wanda must be at her house now, so life quickly decided to follow her steps.

At your doorframe, you took the keys from your pockets and unlocked the door. "Do you already know what you will do for the talent show? I'm really good with flowers, but I don't think it can be of any help."

"I won't do anything", Agatha didn't noticed she answered you. A few minutes before she would ignore you, but this time she just talked back. "See you in the next scene."

When you closed your door, you locked it really slowly. When nothing happened, you breathe in and tried to calm yourself. Everything is okay. You can do it.

You need to.

On her way out of the entrance of your house, Agatha noticed the blue lilies — they were black and white, but Agatha knows they're blue just as she knows that Wanda's flowers are red and hers are purple.

It wasn't just a fabricated line. You really are good with flowers.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Your usually don't notice the decades changing.

The last time it happened everything was still black and white and you could hear laugh tracks from inside your house. You thought you were on a Lucy episode, the moment you realized it wasn't the case was when you found pants on your wardrobe.

Althought Wanda changed everything — and you have a theory that she does it at her sleep, not even aware of what is happening —, you still found little ways to retain your autonomy wherever it happened.

Like those pants. Their tissue was too thick, it didn't feel nice. You prefer when it is more silky. So you put them on your wardrobe and closed the doors, imagining what you wanted them to be.

When you opened it again, they were perfect.

Your powers don't look like the witch movies you grew up watching, nor with the things you know Wanda can do. You don't cast spells, no one taugh you magic, you don't have black cats waiting for you at your house. But you do have a way with changing reality.

And, yes, it can be seen as a selfish act. Like when your hair was cut during your sleep. You took a bath and your hair grew while you washed it. Easy, peasy. Mostly selfish, but you also use it to help your neighbors.

You restored your neighbors clothes. You know it worked because you saw Sarah using her worn out mom jeans at her bedroom during the 60's. And you also shut Wanda's mind. Now they can have dreamless sleeps. All those horrible nightmares now are only hers. And yours.

Wanda has a lot of them. About her parents, her brother, her husband. She's always suffering, remembering her bombered country, her days at Hydra, her moments with the Avengers. A monster after another, a death after another.

You could feel melancholy taking over your body, rising like static through your legs and freezing your mind. It is impossible to speak, move, change something. It's disabling. Is this how Wanda feels?

Is this how Wanda always feels?

You wanted to be able to help her, to fix everything, but you never have a chance to be alone with her. Maybe if you could only talk to her, not playing a character or trying to fool her, you can do something. Just a genuine sign of kindness, of care, of worry. A friend. Maybe this all she needs. A good friend.

But they are always following her. Vision — you were so sure he died, but now you don't know if you can trust the things you heard —, Dottie, Mrs Hart. Geraldine. She is still a question mark for you, but you feel she have good intentions. But it wasn't just them. It would be so easier to make them go away. The real problem is Agnes.

You're sure she's plotting something. You know that. Maybe there is someone hidden in this town and Agnes is using Wanda's powers to found them. Maybe she's dreining her. Or she's being paid to do that. You wished you were smarter. Than you may have already found a way to stop her.

But what can you do? What could you ever do to those help people? You don't know how to fight, how to protect you, how to protect them. You don't even really know what exactly you are. What scares you is... what if this is all you can do? What if this is your best? That all you are able to do is make them sleep better at night?

That night you went to be wishing for someone to taugh you how to use your magic. You desired it with all your heart. And in some ways your wish was granted. But not how you wanted. Not how you expected.

It was as easy to noticed when it changed to the 70's as to hear the babies' crying from Wanda's house. When you got there, accompanied by your closest neighbors, the next hour where the scariest of your life. You've never felt so uncomfortable, small, impotent. And you have your reasons to be sure about it:

1) Wanda wasn't pregnant the day prior her labor;

2) Those babies were way older than just a few hours;

3) Geraldine was at her house and now she is nowhere to be found;

4) You have a husband.

And that is way more than you can take. Isn't enough all the anguish you're going through enough? All this concern, fear, hopelessness? Apparently you are the only person that could do something, but you can't and this is killing you. And now this. This!

He followed you everywhere. Talked to everyone. Held Billy and Tommy while implying that you both would be the next couple to have kids. He even tried to kiss you!

And no matter when it was finally night and you went to your house: he kept on following you. Calling you love. You did all you could, screamed at him and slapped him across the face,but it never worked: he ate dinner with you, walked around your house with you, went to sleep with you.

His snoring kept you awake all night.

You knew that being subtle was the best choice, but your bondaries have been crossed a long time ago and now you can't take it anymore. That's enough.

"My husband will dissappear", you murmured to yourself. You kept on saying this again, and again, and again. A new mantra, your own way to fall asleep.

You had a dream, and in this dream you were a witness.

You saw two kids. They were young, their faces so rounded, you couldn't help but to smile. They were watching something, a old soap opera where someone finally revealed their true identity. One of the kids, the little boy with naive eyes, gasped so loud you almost got scared.

You only looked at her when the little boy stared at the other side of the couch. Somehow you knew that he wanted a confimation that this was really as surprising as he thought. But when you looked at the redhead girl, all you saw was a blank expression.

She wasn't bored. You knew that. She was just sad. Filled with melancholy, she glared at the TV but didn't really payed attention.

The little boy got up. He was what, four eyes old? Maybe five. He left the room, keeping the sad girl even more apathetic on her seat. Time passed, the commercials started, and when the boy came back he was holding a glass.

"Your happy juice", said the kid. He reached for his sister, waking her up from her daydreaming.

"What?"

"You are sad", the boy explained. She took the glass from him, it was so full some drops fell on the couch. "And you always smile when you drink your juice. I want to see you happy again."

"Thank you", the girl smiled, and it reached her whole face. It was like a breeze passed through her, taking all the sadness with it. She drank everything in two big sips. "Now lets clean the mess you made at the kitchen, Pietro."

You woke up with tears running down your cheeks. You touched them, your hands trembling against your face, and imagined Wanda doing the same thing.

With lights turned on, you saw that you were alone. Barefeet, you wandered around your house. No one was there. You were alone. Just like Wanda. Lonely, confused, hurt.

Back in your room, you saw by your window that Wanda's bedroom. And you saw the lights turned on.

You didn't planned anything when you get out of your house and runned towards hers. You just knockes on the door, using all your strenght, and screamed her name until your throat ached.

Wanda was in need of a friend. A true one. And you can be that person. You can be her person.

When someone touched your shoulder, all did was shiver. "What do you think you're doing?" Agatha was right behind you, so close you could feel her warmth.

You tried to clean the tears marking your face. "I had a nightmare", you whispered. You couldn't think of a good lie, so you told her a half truth.

Agatha sighed. She's getting tired of this mess Wanda created. Nightmares, really? She should've be able to control them. "Come with me", she ordered.

You didn't move an inch.

Before you could even understand what was happening, something pulled you. Not a hand, not a body. Looking down, you saw a purple energy around your waist. It made you float, following Agatha as she walked towards your house.

She only let you free in your living room. You fell on the couch and immediately try to go back to Wanda's house. Without even looking at you, Agatha locked the front door. "Don't try me, sweetie."

Agatha touched the photos hanging on your wall. Real photos, with real people. She touched your friends smiles, pouted at your childhood friends, slid her fingers throught your degree. Her eyes land on a photo of you in front of the house you're in now.

"Damn", Agatha couldn't help but laugh. "You're new here? How unlucky you need to be so this happens right when you move in?"

You didn't answer her. Agatha turned her head, glaring at you on your nightgown. "It will end soon. Don't worry so much."

You swallowed hard. "Why do you say that?"

Agatha noticed your voice wasn't a high pitch. No pretty words, pretty expressions. Just you, with traces of tears on your face and a real question. "She will be done soon."

"And when will you be done?"

Agatha crossed her arms. "You're a really talktive puppet", she got closer to you. Agatha was taller than you, and she seen stronger too. You felt vulnerable under her watch, but not scared. You don't have time for that anymore. "You really will never behave?"

You breath in, closed your eyes, and gave her the best smile you could. "I need to sleep, Agnes. Good night, girl!"

Without giving her time to say something, you went up the stairs. You don't want her at your house, touching your things, messing with your life. You entered your room, turned off the lights, and when you were about to lay down her voice came back to haunt you.

"Where's your husband?" Agatha asked you.

Fuck.

"On the bathroom."

"No. He's not." Agatha pointed at the open door. "Where's he?"

"Well, I-", you sttutered. You never did that before, and Agrha noticed it. Agatha understood it. "He must be doing something in the garage. You know, men and their endless projects."

Agatha smiled at you. "Sure." She turned around, and you turned your back to her. You heard the sound of the door closing, the silence lingered, but you knew. Agatha was still there. This stupid chase reached its end. "What's your coven?"

You sighed and sat down on the bed. Agatha managed to see you, without any trace of acting or pretending. She saw your tiredness, frustration, impatience. You tucked your hair behind your ear and rubbed your eyes. "I have no idea what that means."

Purple cables attached themselves to your limbs. They were made of the same energy that forced you to return home. They pulled you, stretching your members, glowing against your skin. "Who are you?"

"Oh, don't you know?" Even though it was the worst thing to do, you provoked her. "You couldn't find anything in my mind, witch? Was that what you did to Wanda? Did you mess with her head so you could control this town?"

Agatha stepped closer to you. Instead of screaming at you, using her magic to hurt you, she did something pretty simple. She laughed. At you. "You think that was me?"

"You're using Wanda."

"Oh, sweetie", Agatha held you by your chin. Even with all the lights off, her eyes seen to shine. She carressed your skin. "Your hero is the one doing that. I'm only trying to stop her."

"No", you defended her. "Wanda would never do that."

"Can you tell me who's nightmare woke you up then? Who's desires are being attended by this act? Who's dead husband is alive?" Agatha touched your hair gently. "Done thinking already? I gonna give one more chance of saying the truth. Who are you?"

There was nothing you could do. No wish that would change Agatha's memory. That was the end of his little theatrics. And if this really is the end, you will not die in despair. You won't die begging. If this is the end, then so be it.

"You already know my name. If you want to know what I am, I won't be able to give you that answer. I don't know what I am. I can't cast spells, no one taught me magic. I don't even know what is happening here. So if you want to kill me, just do it already."

With your eyes closed, you were at peace. No one could say you didn't try. That you didn't want to change the situation for the better. Waiting for pain, the mercy of a quick pain or the sadism of a slow one, the strands of energy disappeared. Slowly you fell onto the bed, the feeling was like waking up from a bad dream.

When you opened your eyes, Agatha had her hand outstretched to you. You hesitated, but accepted the touch. She helped you sit down, and it was impossible to silence the question. "You're not going to kill me, Agnes?"

"Agatha", she corrected you. It was a pretty name. "You want to save this city, don't you?" Agatha asked. That was the first time you felt like she actually cared about the answer.

"More than anything."

"Good." Agatha breath in. "So help me make Wanda wake up from this scripted nightmare. Make it end and you will have your town back. As well as your life."

You blinked a few times. "Why are you offering me this?"

"The people of this city are useless to me. Their life or death doesn't hurt me or make me happy. I don't strive to hurt them in the same way I don't strive to save them. But I need Wanda to wake up. For her understand reality. Be my partner, do what I ask, and your life will be yours again. I think offering you this is a purely logical decision", Agatha extended her hand to you with the intention of sealing this contract. "Or maybe this is just your lucky day."

You didn't know if that was a genuine response from Agatha or her desire manifesting itself. You didn't know if Agatha cared about Wanda, if she was trustworthy, if what she promised you was true. You didn't know who Agatha was, what she wanted, how she would treat you. You didn't know so much.

Lucky day. Yeah, that part kind of makes sense.

You shook Agatha's hand. "We have a deal."

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

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thecarnivorousmuffinmeta · 7 months

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What are your favourite “Bella” moments from either your fics or the source material

My top ten Bella Swan decisions from canon.

Beyond that I love Bella deciding Jessica's the worst after the movie adventure for not wanting to hang out with her anymore, Bella's "I'll make it so my dad isn't traumatized by my disappearance" speech during the James debacle which is "I hate you dad and I'm running away!", her impassioned Switzerland speech that she honestly thinks will make the shapeshifters and Cullens get along with one another, Bella's "you're killing my buzz" when Edward's panicking post sex because she looks like she's been beaten with a baseball bat and Bella's trying to tell him it was the single greatest night of her life, Bella's speech to Jacob that "I can totally have sex with my vampire husband like any normal person" and not blinking an eye with the wolves have to literally drag him screaming out of her wedding reception, and well basically every moment.

Bella's a fucking delight and honestly, I am but a humble apprentice who cannot capture the sheer insanity of Bella Swan compared to the master of Stephanie Meyer.

I try and always fall short.

But from fics (hijacking from my and @therealvinelle's cowritten stuff as well)

Bella the Sad Fucking Clown from Blue Moon

Bella thinks she's having sex with Edward, that he's inviting her to his house to have sex or at least get closer to having sex. Bella takes this very seriously and decides to make herself look sexy with makeup. Trouble is, Bella has 0 experience applying makeup and ends up looking like a clown.

The worse trouble is that Edward wasn't there to have sexy with Bella: the plan is Bella's now having sex with his father.

Bella gets dropped off by Edward to fuck his dad while dressed as a sad sad clown.

(She decides to have rebound sex anyway and convinces Carlisle into this by being too pathetic to function.)

Bella I Need to Pass My Classes but Oh No I Put in No Effort from Painting Red Madonnas

Bella fucks up and signs up for the wrong class. Bella then proceeds to forget she's actually taking the class and ends up failing it both to her absurd lack of talent as well as the fact that she stopped doing any work in class.

She then proceeds to move in with the aliens so she can... save Marcus... maybe... it's unclear.

Bella the Aliens Want Me to Get Pregnant from The Less Than Immaculate Conception (by me and @therealvinelle)

Bella concludes from Marcus being in the right roman baths (while Bella's in the wrong one) that Marcus must want to sleep with her because his alien overlords want to study human intercourse/get her pregnant with a weird mutant alien baby.

Bella decides this is a great idea and proceeds to have sex with Marcus.

Marcus thinks she wants sex because she's a virgin and her only other option are creepy dudes at frat parties.

Bella Everyone Killed Jacob from And Then There Were None (by me and @therealvinelle)

Unable to cope with the idea of parting with Jacob or Jacob's suspiciously timed death, Bella proceeds to blame her entire family, including Edward, and murders them all. When she's shown proof that her family did not, in fact, murder Jacob and it was all a tragic accident she decides that they made her kill them because they made her think they killed Jacob.

She then proceeds to kill everyone else for killing Jacob.

Bella's Impassioned Speech from For the Love of a Woman (bu me and @therealvinelle)

At the end of the story Bella has learned things about not letting your romantic relationships define you. She's learned so many things. She's also learned that being hot and a vampire is amazing and solved all her problems.

She kind of lost the thread of that speech somewhere in there.

Bella "Let's Form a Polycule" and "Jacob, I've Come Up with a Brilliant Plan to Murder Esme" in Leech in the Rain (by me and @therealvinelle)

In the emotional fallout of Bleach on the Brain (by @therealvinelle) Bella looks to Jacob for emotional support as Edward... isn't doing so well. She decides that she and Jacob and Edward have always been in a polycule because uh emotions and needing each other and emotions. Bella convinces exactly 0 people that this is a legitimate and non-toxic relationship. Bonus points that Carlie gets to hear about this from Renee.

Also a winner, Bella's plan to kill Esme that backfires horribly when Jacob ends up dying instead.

Bella "I'm in Love with Hong Bellamy" from The Seventh Seal

Bella decides she's in love with what, to her, looks like a supernatural god-like pretty boy who can tell the future among other things. She's actually fallen in love with an almost personalityless alien, derived from her own soul, who is sick and tired of her bullshit and just wants to make a baby in a cave.

Bella then gets upset when said alien doesn't tell her the truth about being an alien but later elopes with him and becomes a vampire (much to Carlisle's infinite distress).

Bella "Renesmee is Really Ruining this Vacation" from Last Christmas (by me and @therealvinelle)

Bella loses her three-year-old daughter at the airport, said daughter is then held hostage by the Volturi. Bella decides this is all Renesmee's fault, she clearly wanted to be lost then kidnapped, and that she's singlehandedly destroying the family out of her self-centered actions.

Bella "I'm Not Cheating on Edward" and "Oh my god, does Edward actually love me?!" from Dark Fantasies/Writhing Coils (by me and @therealvinelle)

Upon realizing she's been bamboozled by a shapeshifting tentacle hentai monster, Bella has to justify to herself whether or not this was cheating and decides it's not because she's helping a poor creature and the Cullens would definitely do the same if informed. For a variety of reasons, the Cullens don't get informed, Edward makes Hentai monster's acquaintance and Bella then wonders given Edward's response if he's actually attracted to her at all. She then slides into a deep depression where she dislikes the tentacle monster (she quickly forgets about this the next time she and tentacle monster meet but not before she explodes with tentacle hentai squid larvae)

Bella's "Carlisle is wrong! Sex is amazing!" and "Maybe Carlisle was right :/ Sex kind of sucks" from Prima Nocta (by me and @therealvinelle)

Bella and Edward get talked into sleeping with Tanya and Eleazar. Bella briefly feels very liberated and sexually awakened and is appalled that Edward's curmudgeny unenlightened father is upset about this. Later, Eleazar sleeps with Edward in front of her roleplaying as Edward and Carlisle (Bella is a sexy lamp) and Bella's feelings do an abrupt one-eighty.

#twilight #twilight meta #twilight headcanon #twilight renaissance #bella swan #meta #headcanon #opinion #vinelle #therealvinelle

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neechees · 1 year

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Looking back on Twilight criticism is so funny because mainstream crit (that I saw anyway) was all focused on "Ew girls like it" when literally the ENTIRE BOOK NEEDS CRITICISM IT STARTS WITH A CREEPY DUDE WATCHING A GIRL WHILE SHE SLEEPS AND WHEN SOMEONE ASKS "How much racism will Smeyer add?" SHE ANSWERED "Yes."

Exactlyyy. White ppl will like hide behind any type of marginalization they face (like misogyny, homophobia, etc) when they wanna dodge either being accused of racism, or things they like that are racist & being critisizes for that racism, even when said marginalization has nothing to do with it.

Twilight itself is an extremely misogynistic book, where it places White women as the ultimate standard of femininity, particular thin rich White women who are stay at home moms, home makers, etc, and places all other women as not as good or "pure" as them. Bella at 17 literally looks after her dad and cooks and cleans for him. Leah is demonized as a Native woman for literally no reason & gets used as a punching bag throughout the film & books. Abortion is seen as "murder", even when the fetus is slowly killing the mother & clawing its way out of her. There's more obvi but those are just a few examples.

But even if you ignore the racism or misogyny (which you shouldn't) it also romantisizes abuse, what with Edward fitting ALL "signs that your partner is abusive" ticks.

If you ignore the romantisization of abuse, it's also classist: the Cullens are upheld as this angelic set if vampires who are literally billionaires, and could go any fucking place in the world, but they decide to go to the one place they agreed not to go near (due to a treaty with the Quileute Forks) & where they were literally already colonizers who disrupted & harmed the Native population & where they're a threat to the Quileute & they go there for no reason. Edward replaces Bella's old car that her dad & Jacob had fixed up for her (which she had already stated to adore, one reason being that she has an interest in old things) with a sports car, purely to one up Jacob. They all drive various sports cars & Alice routinely wears & throws out clothes. They're held up to this romantisized standard against Bella & the Quileute tribe's middle to lower class status, & this is meant to be another point of why Edward is supposedly better than Jacob (because he is rich).

If you ignore the classism, racism, & misogyny then there's also the weird Mormon ideology literally baked into the entire series, & it can be considered essentially Mormon propaganda. The Native characters are demonized, obviously (considering Mormons literally think Native people are evil). None of the vampires have tattoos but all the werewolves do, & according to the lore, any and all tattoos get removed after becoming a vampire (which is what Mormons believe happens to tattoos in their afterlife). In the books, any poc who become vampires become pale regardless of their skin color in life, & again, this is what Mormons believe happens to poc who become Mormons & enter the afterlife. The whole "no sex before marriage" thing & the abortion thing. Bella & a lot of the other non-demonized female characters dress pretty conservatively, & Edward finds a full length skirt sexy & "indecent". The (white) vampires are repeatedly compared to "angels" & called beautiful & perfect. Other non Christian, non-Mormon religions (& the people that belong to/practice them) in the series are routinely demonized & mocked. Vampirism, but namely for the White characters, is literally an allegory for White Mormons in heaven.

If you ignore all the above and a bunch of other bigoted & weird shit in the series that I haven't yet mentioned, then it's genuinely just very dumb & badly written with stupid logic. Bella thinks it's weird how the Cullens all have really old names when HER name is literally "Isabella Swan". The Cullens literally hate the Quileute & "werewolves" for no fucking reason since they literally trespassed on Quileute land as colonizers in the 1800s, & it's already been established that the shapeshifters aren't even actually real werewolves in the lore so therefore they have no inherent quarrel with them based on the vampire vs werewolves thing, so they just hate them for no reason. The vampires keep going to high school & learning the same shit over and over again when they could be going to COLLEGE or idk doing something productive. Jasper apparently has to teach the Natives how to fight so obviously Smeyer has never seen a rez fight. Jasper is considered a "newborn" even though he was literally turned in the 1860s. Bella gave her kid the dumbest name ever. Ppl have been memeing & making fun of this series since it came out, & I feel like it's hypocritical for twilight fans to both say "ppl only hated it because girls liked it but its actually really good!" While also saying they find it hilarious even the actors made fun of it & hated making it because of its many faults (like so you agree? People made fun of it even back then?) And while also saying they "enjoy it critically" meaning. They admit there's something wrong with it, but still get mad when ppl critisize it.

#twilight anger on main #long post #& of course a lot of all its problems intersect with each other #ESPECIALLY the racism

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saltygilmores · 2 months

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Dance Marathon Episode-Part 9-The Bloody Finale. RIP Shane.

Now I know my readers have lost untold hours of sleep pondering the origin of all this Shane is Dead nonsense. Fret no more, my 4-6 regular readers. Fret no more. After her public dumping for the ages, Rory retreats to Money Laundering Bridge, where the soon to be homocidal maniac follows close behind (Shane's current whereabouts are unclear, but he won't let her get too far). A brief, gloomy conversation between Jess and Rory ensues, where it is established that Jess and Rory Like-Like each other and are comitting to not knowing a moment of peace or sexual intercourse for the next 6-8 months. Yippee. So, we are to believe that the thing that needs "taking care of" is presumably, ending his "relationship" with Shane. But a normal, not-murderer person could have said something like "I have to go talk to Shane." Or he would have not said anything to Rory because Shane was not even his girlfriend anyway, so who gives a crap? If we have just established that Rory and Jess have decided to make a go of this thing, it's a given that Shane is history. She's off like a prom dress. So why did he have to say it like that? What, exactly, has to be "taken care of"? You know what kind of people say things like that? People who are in the mob, before they erase someone. (but instead of "sleeping with the fishes", Shane will be sleeping with the swans.) On top of that, why are you using that absolutely bone-chilling tone of voice? And such a creepy Okuh, too. That's an okuh that will make your blood run cold. Also, that creepy way he's staring at Rory, like he's contemplating evil. You can see it in his eyes that the evil gears are turning in his evil brain. How convenient that after he says this Ms. Campbell is never seen or heard from again. RUN SHANE! RUN! Run as fast as your slutty little legs can carry you!

Shane Campbell B. 198? D. 2002 Shane Campbell was born sometime in the mid 80s to Mr. and Mrs. Campbell, who were those really cool kinda parents who let their daughter have boys in her bedroom and said things like "drinking is okay as long as you do it in the house". Until her untimely death, Ms. Campbell was employed by Stars Hollow Beauty Supply. She prided herself on being gainfully employed and sex-positive and being the creator of new words such as "bloaty". She was educated in the Stars Hollow school system, causing some of her detractors to believe that Ms Campbell did not know how ice was made. She had plans to attend cosmetology school and looked forward to a career in the beauty industry where she would have made more money and met way cooler people and had a lot more sex than other people who went to Yale instead. We will miss her spicy customer service, off the shoulder tops, low rise jeans, and love of tonsil hockey. RIP. I will remember you, will you remember me, don't your let your life pass you by...weep not for the memories... Jess departs the lake to locate his victim and comitt certain felonies and busy himself with cleaning up bodily remains. As she posed no real threat to his relationship with Rory, his motive for Taking Care of Shane remains unclear. He is just a blood thirsty maniac. God forbid a boy finds a hobby, right? He has a long night ahead of him. Rory and Lorelai return to the dance a few moments apart, where Rory's absence has disqualifed them and Kirk wins. Rory cries into Lorelai's arms over the loss of Butthead and the gaining of Jess The Mess. As Kirk circles the gym with his trophy, the Rocky theme song plays, which drowns out Shane's screams of terror from behind the school. With the same superpower that he utilized to abscond with 500 baseballs, Jess manages to drag Shane's lifeless body from the school and back to the lake and feeds her to the swans. The end.

#RIP Shane #we'll miss you queen #until you come back as a Swan and give your killer a rightful beaking #such a go getter #denise rewatches gilmore girls #gilmore girls season 3 #they shoot gilmores dont they #tsgdt #jess mariano #jess the killer #in the arms of the angel #may you find some comfort there #shane's obit has to be one of the silliest things ive ever written #at least I crack myself up

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keepingeahalive · 11 months

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Lizzie Hearts Headcanons

Her full name is Princess Elizabeth Bicycle Hearts.

Her official title is Princess of Hearts, but she prefers to be “Queen and King, best of both hearts!”

Her favorite tea is cardamum.

She likes to use nonce words in her speech.

Lizzie has her own Itsy shop where she sells her dresses.

She was mad at Daring for cheating on her with Duchess, but she realizes that they never made anything official. They didn’t communicate well about their dating situation other than keeping it a secret. After cooling down, she wanted to talk to him. But he ran away from her because he was afraid she was going to chop off his head. They’re on good terms now, and she still has some feelings for him, but they both agree that they’re better as friends and fellow Royals.

She, like the rest of the Wonderland refugees, has a close relationship with the Mad Hatter. Having been her guardian for several years, he developed a fatherly relationship with her and Kitty. Lizzie plans to knight him when she becomes Queen.

The Mad Hatter and Lizzie’s mother have a complicated relationship. She once planned to have him executed for “murdering the time”, but she has since pardoned him because he took Lizzie in. He is now set for execution again, this time for “murdering the space”. Lizzie plans to pardon him for this as well.

Do not mistake her for the Red Queen’s daughter. Then she really will cut off your head.

She loves botany and horticulture. She personally tended to the gardens outside her castle in Wonderland (to make sure all her roses were red) and the Wonderland Grove to stay closer to home. She also tends to the Garden of Live Flowers.

She’s constantly losing her voice from yelling so much. She has Maddie or Kitty on speed dial for when she needs tea, because putting tea in a thermos would be blasphemy.

She hates Duchess’s trumpeter swan, Pirouette. She may be a morning person, but she doesn’t appreciate being woken up when everyone else is still asleep. She doesn’t say anything for Duchess’s sake, but she is this close to turning that swan into a croquet mallet.

Lizzie has a little brother named Timmy, and he would annoy her to no end. After fleeing Wonderland and leaving him behind, she found herself missing his annoyances, and chasing him around the castle.

She once built an entire house of cards out of the Card Soldiers when she was nine. Unfortunately, a strong gust of wind blew them away. They were all found eventually.

She had a childhood crush on Alistair.

Of the three who took refuge in Ever After with the Mad Hatter, Lizzie had the most trouble adapting to her new environment. She felt guilty for leaving her family and kingdom behind. She sometimes has nightmares about her home’s suffering and her loved ones blaming her for leaving them.

She has a musical side to her that she never shows people. She can play the dulcimer, the calliope, the glass harmonica, and the hurdy-gurdy.

She takes competition very seriously, especially croquet. It is Wonderland’s official sport, and she will not see anything less that perfection and victory from her family’s sport.

She and her mother are the owners of the vorpal sword. The original White Knight used it to defeat the Jabberwocky the first time and left it in the Queen of Hearts’s care. It is now only used for knighting ceremonies and slicing cakes.

@janellemeap

#eah #ever after high #ever after high headcanons #lizzie hearts #eah lizzie #The Wonderland characters are hard

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snowbellewells · 9 months

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MY CSSNS23 MC: "Carolina Moon" {prologue}

**Thank you SO MUCH to my event artist @eastwesthomeisbest for the absolutely amazing cover art she created (in much less time than I should have afforded her). I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE it, and am thrilled to be able to put it with each update of my story. Also, I'm so grateful to have @xarandomdreamx as my beta for this fic as well, though I did not give her this prologue, so any mistakes here are absolutely and unfortunately mine! And thank you too to the @cssns as a whole for once again providing such a great event of which to be a part!!***

Here is my second submission to the @cssns23 event!! This one is a modern au of the Nora Roberts novel and subsequent tv movie Carolina Moon. The main female character in the movie is psychic/clairvoyant (I’ll admit, I’m not too sure about the distinction between the two) and I thought her visions and what she goes through in connection to them made a nice real-world parallel to Emma’s magic. (There’s also a scene in here where the male lead says something that I could so perfectly see Killian saying to Emma… I just cannot wait to get to that point!)

Anyway, I hope you will enjoy this romantic thriller with some murder mystery elements. There are some instances of abuse and violence in here though - which I feel like I should mention, since that’s a little darker than my typical style. Most of them are in flashbacks of Emma’s past, or in visions she has of victims, more than in the actual present day plot; still I wanted to make people aware before we got too far.

Please enjoy! (I’d love to hear what you think.)

Prologue

July 1993

The water at their hideaway always feels so good. She could sink into it until her head slips below the surface and never, ever want to come up for air. It’s cooler, more luxurious than even the rich, satiny sheets on the trundle bed those rare nights when she gets to sleep over at Rose’s. Emma Swan’s gangly, 13-year-old limbs slice through the murky water as if the constant humidity and sultry air of Storybrooke, South Carolina can’t penetrate here in their little forest haven. She knows, of course, logically, that the real world isn’t all that far away. The shaded pond she and Rose discovered two summers ago is just a short trek into the woods at the furthest edge of Rose’s family’s boundless acreage. Still, it feels removed enough to bring Emma a sense of peace and contentment she gains nowhere else.

Looking over her shoulder to the large, smooth boulder jutting out of the pond at the bank where they left their flip flops and cutoff denim shorts, she can see her best friend stretched out with her new book where they had spread their towels on the rock’s surface, just in the wash of warming sunlight that streams through the tree branches overhead. Rose’s flawlessly creamy pale skin is prone to burning, but at the moment her friend seems willing to take the risk for the benefit of lazing cozily to read as she dries in the sun after taking a quick dip. Shaking her head, Emma plunges back under, happy to stay in the chilly water a bit longer herself. She knew as soon as they’d met outside Rose’s house that afternoon, and she had seen that Rose held a new Boxcar Children book in her hand, that her friend would not be able to resist burrowing into those pages for long.

It’s funny, Emma supposes, but that’s exactly what bonded she and Rose Jones in the first place. They might seem different on the surface, but in the end, neither of them quite fit with everyone else, and so they gravitate to each other, and have ever since Emma first arrived in Storybrooke as an eight-year-old orphan. They are each willing to give the other at least one person who takes them as they are and with whom they won’t have to pretend. Emma doesn’t care if Rose wants to read quietly and tell her about the stories she’s already finished instead of picking out dresses for the next cotillion class or preening in front of the mirror, practicing batting her eyelashes to charm boys or bragging to Emma about which ones she intends to kiss. Her sister Ruby, who shares the same thickly shining, burnished mahogany hair and pretty pink lips but little of her fraternal twin’s calming, gentle personality, does enough of that for the both of them. Their mother, a former debutante and southern belle, delights in the one daughter’s traditional coquettishness, and despairs of the other’s shyness. Cora Jones is a true throwback to another time who wants nothing more than to see both her daughters marry well and retain their places atop the social ladder. Emma could not care any less about such details; she is already clinging to the very bottom rung of such a social structure - if she and the so-called guardians with whom she lives are on the ladder at all. In turn, Rose doesn’t mock Emma for her thick, dark-framed glasses or secondhand clothes, nor does she cringe away from the “fits” that sometimes take hold of her friend, making strange, disturbing scenes Emma can’t understand flash across her mind with such intensity they sometimes knock her off her feet. Emma knows Rose’s mother and sister find her an unsuitable and embarrassing companion for Rose, but she is eternally grateful her friend seems able to see the best in anyone - even a lost girl nobody else wants - and so blithely acts as though she has no idea about the rest of her family’s opinions.

Cringing even while still submerged in the pond’s depths and practically invisible, Emma tries not to think of her unwanted visions. Her strict, hypocritical, and more than a bit deranged, foster father claims she’s possessed - and more than once has taken her episodes out of her hide. The man swears he’s beating the devil out of her and putting the fear of God in Satan’s place when he takes the thick leather strap to her shoulders, back and legs until she bleeds, but Emma has already lived long enough in a cruel and unfair world to know that his violence and “discipline” have less to do with parenting and concern for her soul, and more to show for his own twisted mind and overindulgence in the bottle. She wants to hide her spells from him, but when they come on her so abruptly and with such power, they are impossible to miss. She can’t fathom how a person like him was deemed fit to take in and care for a child, but mistreatment and injustice seem to be her lot in life thus far, and so she simply grits her teeth and survives.

It’s different though when the spells happen around Rose; the slight brunette merely rests a cool, steadying hand on Emma’s forehead or her arm until they pass, then she helps Emma stand until she feels in control again, listens as she attempts to make sense of whatever she’s seen, and most importantly… believes her. If only she could stay in the huge house Rose’s family calls home. She’d cook, clean, do chores, even stay in the servant’s quarters; Emma isn’t picky. It would still be a far sight safer than the situation she has in the rundown shack with the monster who’d been deemed her caretaker. Barring that, she would honestly rather live wild in these woods and survive off the land. She knew which plants and berries were safe to eat; Graham, her first friend, once a fellow orphan now happily adopted, had shown her ages ago, as well as taught her how to fish. It wouldn’t be easy, but she’d get by, and at least no one would lay a hand on her again.

This afternoon, those eerie images she sometimes has seem far away as she splashes up out of the water, trying to arc playfully like a mermaid as she breaks the surface. Drawing in a big gulp of air after staying underwater so long, Emma startles at the sound of teasing laughter, and whirls to see three figures on the bank where she and Rose left their shoes and shorts.

“Well, look here,” calls out a taunting voice that never fails to set Emma’s nerves on edge. “It’s the baby beached librarian and her drowned rat friend!” None other than Emma’s nemesis, Killian Jones, crows from his vantage point on dry land.

Rose sits up ramrod straight, book still in hand and annoyed scowl on her face at Killian and his friends’ interruption to the quiet peace of their sanctuary. She isn’t genuinely angry, though; for all that she and her sister share little in common, she and her two-years-older brother are affectionately close. “Shut up, Killy!” she shoots back, throwing in the childhood nickname they all know he hates. “Who asked you to come looking anyway?”

The boy standing next to Killian speaks up next, making Emma scowl just as playfully as Rose had moments before. Graham Hunter might as well be her big brother; he’s the closest thing she’s had to family since her parents were lost in a car crash and she was thrown into the foster care system. Be that as it may, he and Killian Jones are thick as thieves, and he’ll give her a hard time for all he’s worth while in the presence of his buddy. “We just wanted to swim,” he calls across the water to the two girls, smirking at Emma, who now stands in the water with one hip jutting out and hands planted on her waist. “How were we supposed to know you two were infesting it?”

“Ha!” Emma jeers back, the affront plain in her voice; despite the fact that the entire routine is like a practiced girls-versus-boys exchange they’ve all engaged in countless times. There isn’t much else to do for entertainment in their sleepy little one-horse town. “You idiots know this is Rose’s and my hideaway, fair and square!”

“Well, Rose’s anyway,” a third voice cuts in snidely.

The cruel jab reminds Emma once more that to most folks she is just a charity case, quite possibly only included in anything at all because of her friend’s kind heart, and at the intentional slight, cuts her gaze to the third member of the boys’ little crew, skulking a step back in the shadows behind where Killian and Graham stand, as he always does. Her green eyes narrow to slits in genuine dislike and suspicion. Where before her animosity was largely for show, when they land on Walsh Ozman, it is all too real.

She has never understood why the other two boys - jokers and annoyances though they may be, but good guys when it comes right down to it - hang out with Walsh at all. Where Graham and Killian are much more cut from the same cloth - athletic, outgoing, well-liked and pleasant - Walsh is a splindy, sniveling character, complaining and whining whatever their little trio gets up to. He lives not far from Emma’s foster father’s cabin with his single mother - a bushy-haired redhead who seems strangely overprotective and attached to her only child. Most people give the property a wide berth, except when high schoolers teepee it the whole month of October, and the general town consensus is that Zelena Ozman might be a witch and to steer clear. Still, beyond all of that, Emma might have been able to look past the boy’s circumstances and see him for himself - she of all people knew the gift it was not to be judged by where a person came from - if Walsh hadn’t simply given her “the willies”. Even standing too close to him made the fine hairs at the nape of her neck stand on end - and not in the way that nearness to Killian sometimes did; an altogether much more pleasant tingle, even if she was just as unable to explain one as the other.

“We could take their things,” Walsh suggests, holding up the threadbare, faded jeans Emma had left on the bank. “Make them walk back in their skivvies.” The wicked smile on his face makes Emma’s stomach turn over sickly.

Something sharp flashes in Jones’ eyes, his nostrils flaring slightly and his head giving a subtle shake of dissent that Emma can see even at the distance she stands away from him. Protectiveness, chivalry, or maybe the honor of a southern gentleman passed down to him through generations of his impressive family line; whatever it is, it sparks to life in his eyes at that moment as he quashes Walsh’s mean-spirited suggestion in no uncertain terms. “That’s my little sister you’re talking about Oz,” he growls, smacking the worn material from the smaller’s boy’s hands, even if the article of clothing isn’t Rose’s at all.

Emma feels her breath rush back into her lungs, though she continues to watch the guys warily for whatever they might do or say next. Before long, they grow bored of standing around and move on, hollering out age old taunts of “Bye, losers” and “Hey, smell ya later” to Emma’s derisive snort and Rose completely ignoring them to flip open her book again.

However, even with the intruders gone, it seems as if the perfect comfort of their retreat has been shattered by the unsettling interruption. Soon, Emma wades to the shore and Rose clambers down from her perch, to dress once more and return to the world outside. For a moment, as she refastens her jeans around her skinny waist, Emma feels a strange prickling along the fine hairs on her arms… like they’re being watched. She jerks around, searching the surrounding trees and brush, but can’t see or hear a thing.

Rose’s small hand takes hers, snapping Emma out of the moment. “What is it?” she whispers, only true caring in her voice. “Did you sense something?”

Emma nods, but can’t give her suspicions voice. Usually her visions are clearer than that - this had just been heavy breathing and like looking at herself and Rose through another person’s eyes, outside her own body.

Rose stooped to grab the little canvas bag she’d bought along with water bottles, towels, and a second book in it. “Hey, don’t worry, okay?” she offers, hopeful and kind as always. “You’ll figure it out. Wanna meet back out here tonight? Secret Sister bonfire?” she winks mischeivously. “I have to get to dinner now. You know how Mama hates it if I’m not washed up and properly attired for the evening meal - or a second late. But we can talk some more then, maybe you’ll remember more and it will be clearer.”

Emma nods gamely. “The stars’ll be beautiful by midnight,” she suggests. “And we’ll definitely have the place all to ourselves.”

“Since we were so rudely interrupted,” Rose chimes in with a giggle and roll of her eyes.

“Shake on it, pinkie swear,” they say together in practiced unison, executing a complex handshake that ends with their pinkies hooked together and wide, matching grins on both their faces.

“Thanks Rose,” Emma whispers sincerely, trying to speak around the lump in her throat as if it’s no big deal. “I’ll be out here as soon as I can sneak away.”

Rose, for her part, wraps her taller, golden-haired friend into a tight, momentary hug. “Hey, we’re Secret Sisters! You can count on me. I’ll see you then!”

They part ways at the edge of the forest; Emma heading to the rundown cabin that serves as her nightmarish version of a home, and Rose to the pristine Jones family mansion standing tall over all the surrounding land. Rose looks back over her shoulder with a smile and wave that bolsters Emma, and the memory fades back into the haze of the past…

Eighteen years later….

September 2011

The blaring of the horn as a sports car whizzed by, barely missing the nose of Emma’s beat-up yellow VW where it had begun to edge out into the country intersection, jarred her back to the present with a gasp and painful jolt to her chest. Panting for a moment as she gripped the steering wheel, Emma tried to clear her head and calm the pounding of her heart at the near-miss.

‘Get it together,’ she berated herself. It might have seemed like only yesterday as she remembered that sunny afternoon at the swimming hole, but that day had been nearly two decades ago. She was a grown woman, had made a way for herself, fighting tooth and nail for every step forward, and she answered to no one. She had learned to stand up for her rights and her needs, to control her visions and use them for good, and had even served a special consultant for the Boston PD. But, more than all of that, she had come back to this place to find peace, to lay to rest the ghosts that had followed her everywhere else she’d gone in the years between, once and for all. If she expected others to leave the past in the past, she would first have to manage to do the same.

She’d had no way to know as she and Rose parted that afternoon with promises and plans for later that it would be the last time she would ever see her friend. Emma had harbored the pain and the guilt and the unanswered questions ever since. Finally, it was time to meet the gazes of all of those who had stared at her in suspicion before she’d been packed up and moved away once more, and it was time she found answers. She wasn’t the scared, whipped, mistreated adolescent she had been at 13. What she had lived through then was not her fault, nor was what had happened to Rose that muggy July midnight.

And if she had to return to Storybrooke, South Carolina to lay that burden down… well, it was long past time she did.

Tagging a few who might enjoy: @cssns @searchingwardrobes @jennjenn615 @kmomof4 @laschatzi @whimsicallyenchantedrose @teamhook @revanmeetra87 @stahlop @jrob64 @apiratewhopines @wefoundloveunderthelight @eastwesthomeisbest @xarandomdreamx @sotangledupinit @justanother-unluckysoul @booksteaandtoomuchtv @kazoosandfannypacks @anmylica @motherkatereloyshipper @jonesfandomfanatic @elizabeethan @the-darkdragonfly @donteattheappleshook @xsajx @lfh1226-linda @winterbaby89 @hollyethecurious @darkcolinodonorgasm @resident-of-storybrooke @drowned-dreamer @optomisticgirl @tiganasummertree @spartanguard @therooksshiningknight @gingerchangeling @gingerpolyglot @blackwidownat2814 @blowmiakisscolin @let-it-raines

#cs ff #cs fanart #cssns23 #carolina mooon #prologue #nora roberts au #cs modern au mc

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peachyfuck18 · 10 months

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So the other night I had a dream that one day certain Horror Icons ended up getting Disney princess powers by getting animals to love them and getting them to the killings for them cause in reality deer and swans look cute but are actually murderous fuckers. Here’s how I think that went

-Billy Loomis finds out due to a raven landing on his shoulder one day and soon discovers that he can just control animals just by singing to them but it’s more Phantom of the Opera than typical Disney songs(Skeet Ulrich singing Christine’s parts in think of me cmon just picture it) and of course nobody’s gonna believe a rabbit killed some douchebag jock with its squirrel friend and they see him with Stu and they try to get them together like picnic dates and making a gothic sun dress for Billy just to see him and Stu together

-Carrie White is of course surprised that bunnies and sheep that come to see her but their great company. Especially the doves that come by her windows to greet her and of course helping Carrie with her dress design and while she’s at prom they make sure to get the jump on Margaret and Chris giving her a good night out

-Jennifer Check has no idea why the bats in her attic are now suddenly friendly towards her but she just thinks it’s her demon powers but also goats that escape the local farm just to see her but Needy finds out and she just thinks it’s adorable and of course the animals trying to get them together especially the swans she somehow managed to befriend

-Patrick Bateman one day waking up to find a four course breakfast meal on the table and coming home to find the dishes washed and put away and his disgust when he finds out it was the mice, pigeons and sewer gators of New York City but figures could have a good use for them. Alligators with their pigeon friends have a good use for rivals of Bateman and they are good help around the house

-Ash Williams is just having an average day to his job to S-Mart til he finds a deer trying to give him a flower when he wakes and a snake picking out his clothes for him to get ready but hey he’s seen weirder. But that doesn’t mean he enjoys it. I mean think like can’t get a moments rest without some rats trying to cook him dinner or a wolf licking him in the face to get up in the morning or raccoon and hares cleaning his house. He’s not sure what the necronomican says about this but he’ll be damned if he lets this continue

-Baby Firefly wakes up one day to an armadillo brushing her hair and vultures bringing her roadkill but whatever she thinks it’s cute no matter what Otis or Spaulding say about it

Yes the other horror icons are making fun of them cause why would they get Disney princess powers when their HORROR icons but even they don’t know how they got these powers

#slashers #slasher headcanons #horror house #horror house au #based on a dream #scream #billy loomis #carrie 1976 #carrie white #jennifer’s body #jennifer check #american psycho #patrick bateman #ash williams #the evil dead #baby firefly #crack #disney princess

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mylifeisactuallyamess · 1 year

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Zaldrīzesdōron

Daemon Targaryen x F!Reader

A/N: The next prompt suggested by @a-bang-for-your-bucky was “How can I believe you after all you’ve done?” With Daemon Targaryen. This is the first time I’ve written Daemon, I found him dialogue heavy. He’s a wordy boy, stressing his point because he’s always in the right. Anyway… thank you @adrille88 for doing the job of beta!

Warnings: Explicit 18+, smut. I haven’t written smut in a while 😬 potential kidnap (but not really), mentions of marriage, death and murder, dragons. Reader and Daemon start off a little rough but it’s consensual. Some High Valyrian snuck in there. Also the first time I’ve dipped into the fanfic world of GOT/HOTD so be gentle. Reader belongs to a house but it’s not specified which one, reader wears a dress and has hair but nothing else is specified.

Translations: (I found.)

Zaldrīzesdōron- Dragonstone.

ñuha prūmia - my heart.

issa dãrys - my king.

avy jorrãelan - I love you.

se nyke aõhon - and I am yours.

Word Count: 4.6k

The wind was fierce. It grabbed at your dress and the fear of falling off made you clutch onto the Prince more than you liked. The dragon beat his wings and you swear the pressure of it pressed inside your ear, weighing into you. A scream threatened to bubble up your throat when the beast dived and the ground seemed so far away but too close at the same time. Daemon tightened his grip around your midriff as your heart stopped and you thought this really was the moment you were going to die.

Closing your eyes, you prayed for it to be over soon as nausea clawed at your stomach; maybe you weren’t cut out for a life on dragonback. It was the dream of every small child in Westeros, to have a dragon of their own but now that you were actually here, you hated it.

As soon as Caraxes landed with a shake of his massive head you slid down his side. You hadn’t accounted for how far from the ground he was still and your legs buckled at the force of your dismount. The dragon turned to watch you curiously, his head cocked and a slight whistling sound chittered from his throat.

You were utterly dishevelled. Your hair was a mess, your dress was uncomfortable and it had shifted slightly on your body so the corset dug in. Grabbing your skirts, you loudly cursed the silver haired man who strode toward you with an arrogant swagger.

“Oh stop your griping,” he scolded you. “Most people would kill for what you just experienced.”

“I will not be disrespected like this, Daemon!” Your dress wasn’t appropriate for the wet chill on Dragonstone and your body gave an involuntary shiver.

“No one is disrespecting you, My Lady.”

“Why am I here?” You glared at him but all he did was match your ire with a cocky half smile and a hand to show you the way up to the fortress. Lifting your head you glared at him harder before swanning past and walking steadily up the long and winding causeway.

By the time you reached the tall black stone of the Keep you were visibly freezing, your numb hands doing nothing to keep you warm against the constant wind as it sliced around the island. Your hair was damp, draining any last vestige of warmth you may have had.

Daemon didn’t say anything to you. Leading you into a long hall and scattering the servants with a curt word and pretending not to notice when you headed straight for the roaring fireplace. The sensation of a thick fur being wrapped around your body made you flinch, but you grabbed onto it. Daemon swept your hair to the side, gently draping it over the fur and you allowed him to smooth it down, his hands slowly travelling along your arms until you stepped out of his reach. His pent up sigh finally being let out.

“What do you want, Daemon?”

“The pleasure of your company,” his voice sounded too loud as it echoed around.

“We could have done that within my own halls. My house is one of the few who would have allowed the scorned Prince of Westeros under its roof.” He scoffed, picking at the food that had been laid out on the table.

“It’s not the same.”

“No. My halls are much more comfortable.”

“Did you not enjoy the thrill of the ride?” He asked, lifting his gaze to gauge your reaction but you refused to play his game.

“I shall ask again and I expect a straight answer.” Daemon rolled his eyes and waved a hand to cut you off.

“Don’t be so fucking boring. You’re better than this, you know you are.” Bravely you stood stock still as he approached, his eyes eating up every inch of you as he stopped just inches from you, crossing his hands on the pommel of his sword. “You’re in need of a husband.”

“That’s what this is about?!” You sounded amused but really your entire body had just flushed with a delicious warmth as ideas ran rampant in your mind. “Are you putting yourself forward as a candidate?”

“Well I thought the dragon ride would have sealed the deal.”

“There is no ‘deal.’ If you wish to seek my hand in marriage you must fall in line with the other suitors.” Cocking an eyebrow, you enjoyed the way he grinned at you, fully taking on the challenge you offered him.

“I don’t have to fall in line with anyone. I am a Prince.”

“One that has fallen from favour more times than I can count. What would I want with a black sheep such as you?”

“A sheep,” he sneered. “Good one.” Turning away from him you weren’t expecting him to grab you, pulling you to him so hard your breath hitched. “Tell me I don’t top the best offer you’ve ever had.”

“Let me go,” you gasped but his grip just tightened. His eyes never left your face, tracing your features so marked with annoyance, he liked this look on you. He enjoyed your spirit and the way it singed his fingers, like dragon fire. You were something else entirely and he wasn’t going to let you be dimmed anymore.

“I cannot.” It was all there in his mind, everything he had ever wanted to say to you. Usually he didn’t hesitate to say what was on his mind but you choked him. “My Lady…”

“You know he will never agree to this. Our King.” The second son relinquished his grip at the mention of his older brother, a grimace crossing over his sharp features.

“As much as I love my brother, you know I don’t listen to a word he says. He told me to marry that prissy bronze cunt in the Vale and I got out of that.”

“How did she die again? Hunting accident?” You queried knowing full well that was a lie.

“And your last husband? Choked at the table did he?” The taunt was quick fired and smug but you had your story straight.

“He ate too much duck. A bone got lodged in his throat.” You scowled at him, hating the way he ran the tip of tongue over his bottom lip but then Daemon stepped back.

“It’s all inconsequential anyway,” he announced.

“Is it? I was told under no circumstances, was I to entertain any advances from you.” He raised an eyebrow, nodding at the table as though surprised at your sudden admission but you could tell he already knew you were going to say something like that.

“Your advisors know best. Do you agree with them?”

“After the way you stole me…”

“Oh here we go again, I did not steal you!” He grumbled.

“I am here against my will!” You shrieked. “I was plucked from my House and flown halfway across the world…”

“Don’t exaggerate,” he muttered.

“Flown, away from my home and dumped in this…”

“Amazing fortress.”

“Ugh! You are insufferable!”

“Would you listen to me?” He hissed coming towards you once again but this time you backed out of his reach and his hand dropped, balling into a fist. “I needed to get you away from the dying ideas of those old codgers. They ruin you. Dull you. I want nothing more than to — treat you how you should be treated. I brought you here to become a fucking Princess!”

“How can I believe you after all you’ve done?”

“That!” He pointed at you, jutting out his jaw as he tried to drive his point forward. “That is what they want. To put this poisonous wedge between us and I will not have them succeed. Not this time.”

“So you’re telling me they feed me lies? You haven’t taken whores, disrespected the crown or killed your ex wife? None of these things are true?” You challenged.

“Yes of course they’re true…I’m not lying to you here.”

“And neither are my advisors when they say I should avoid you at all costs.”

“No. They’re just trying to undermine me and ruin any chance of happiness you might want.” Your face twisted with disgust at how accurate his insight was.

“I don’t want to have this conversation anymore.” You wanted to leave and in a desperate attempt you headed for the exit, not caring where it led to but he charged; almost sweeping your balance away as he grabbed your wrist and spun you back to face him with a flurry of your dress.

“We are not finished,” he spat. “I am here telling you all the nitty gritty bits of my character, exposing my flaws so you can pick at them like a rabid raven and still love me.” Your breath quickened as your back was pressed back into the wall. “I’ve never hidden who I am,” he continued.

“Maybe I don’t like what you’re showing me after all, Prince Daemon.” He smirked but it didn’t reach his eyes. They stayed steely, and focused until he released you and stepped back. Gaining control of himself and giving you space again.

“That’s an outright lie,” he said. The firelight caught on his silver hair and you found yourself admiring him now, as much as you did when you first caught sight of him at the tournament. How you had promised yourself to capture the attention of the dragon rider, now your efforts after all this time were suddenly not so fruitless.

“So what if it is.” He stood before you, one leg cocked slightly as he openly admired you. His gaze dragging over your body and you let the fur slip down around your shoulders exposing some skin.

“We are one and the same you and I,” he whispered.

“How did you work that out?”

“Because I have heard tales of your late husbands. Tragically, you don’t seem to be able to stay married a whole year before they’re falling dead at your feet.”

“Unfortunate circumstances,” you shrugged.

“No heirs,” he continued. “So all their fortune goes to you. Their dear, bereft lady wife.” The fur slipped further and his hands worked to free himself of his sword belt. “We could be formidable, you know. Together.” He began to remove his armour, taking the breastplate off and planting it in the chair near you, his eyes never straying far from your own. “You’ve got the soul of a dragon and I admire that. I enjoy its heat.”

“What makes you think you have what it takes to tempt me, my Prince?” He scoffed, allowing the brief annoyed smirk to cross his face.

“Is it the thrill of the chase for you? To have a prince come after you like some love sick fool?” he snapped with barely contained irritation.

“You are not one of those,” you countered.

“Oh but I am. That’s why I stole you, as you so crudely put it, and brought you here, to Dragonstone.”

“To make me yours?” The last item clunked to the floor and he was standing before you in a loose shirt, leather britches and boots. Within a few strides you were in his reach. Feebly you tried to resist but he overpowered your meagre attempts until your back was flush against his chest. His large hands holding your wrists firmly across your own chest. Turning your face away, he buried himself into your neck, breathing warmly on your skin.

“To make you, mine.” Your cry rang out when his teeth sank into the softness of your neck but he didn’t release you. Just spinning you round, and walking you back until the pair of you slammed into the cold stone wall. “Yes, fight me,” he encouraged, taking a slap to the cheek and working his jaw to absorb the pain.

“You like that?” You breathed.

“Mmm, now that would be telling,” he teased; pushing forward to press a chaste kiss to your lips. He had you trapped, his wide body crowding you from all sides and his foot kicked your legs wide. Once again you tried to push him away but the scuffle just ended with you in an even more vulnerable position. Hands pinned above your head as he ghosted his nose over your face; breathing you in with a drawn out sigh as though he’d been waiting an eternity for such a moment with you. “Extraordinary,” he murmured.

“I won’t give in so easily,” you snarled but there was no conviction in your voice.

“Is that so?” He stole another kiss from you, his tongue teasing you to open up for him. Your body shivering against him, excitement sliding down your spine and a soft moan was sipped from the tip of your tongue.

The rustle of your dress was loud in the quiet, his free hand slipping under the fabric to brush the smoothness of your inner thigh. His calloused touch had your yearning for Daemon reach higher, arching your back in the hope he’d take the hint. His lips and teeth left a trail of marks along your jawline, his body pushing you even harder against the wall.

He let go of your wrists, spreading a hand over your throat in a show of control and possession. Your own hands fell to tangle in his silvery locks, pulling on them harshly so he sucked in a breath between his teeth. His hand connected with your thigh and your eyes closed as the sound snapped between you both.

“Now, now,” he drawled. You had no choice but to release the hold on his hair as he flipped you round so you were facing the fire. The heat enveloped you; mixed with the heat already coursing through your body, you could feel sweat beginning to form under your dress.

He shifted behind you, pushing his britches down until they covered his boots that he was still wearing. Daemon grabbed one of your hands and put himself in the palm. Your eyes fluttered at the silky warmth of him and you squeezed the thick tip letting him thrust slightly in your grip. Fingers curled around the column of your throat, tilting your head back until his lips found the corner of yours once again.

The fabric of your dress was lifted, this time his hand went straight for the slickness of your cunt. He parted your folds, taking his time to listen to the little noises you made when he circled your clit and teased your entrance. In return you felt your way along his stiff length, silently marvelling at the way he filled your grip. Your throat flexed in his hold as you groaned, shamelessly pushing your hips forward to try and get more friction but he chuckled darkly in your ear.

“You have to earn it,” he whispered.

“T-tell me how,” you whined. He didn’t respond, instead he pulled away, leaving you oddly cold in front of the fire.

The flames licked the huge logs, burning them a hot white colour and successfully captivating your gaze as you tried to calm the rising frustration. Looking over your shoulder, you saw him leaning against the table, britches pulled up but still undone, arms crossed over that wide chest as he waited for you to make your move.

“Is this how you treat all your women?” You asked with a biting edge to your tone, allowing him to see how riled up you were.

“No,” he replied with the blunt truth. “Other women bore me so I don’t waste my time on them more than necessary.” You approached him slowly, aware that he was watching every little movement you made. You didn’t want to give him the opportunity to discard you, not after the effort you had both put into getting here.

Reaching out you pulled the ties on his shirt to expose his chest, forcing his arms down and you drank in the sight of his scarred skin. Gently you traced the rough skin, watching him tense under your delicate touch.

“Did these hurt?”

“Possibly.”

“Are they from Caraxes?” You asked, forcing the fabric off his body completely so that he let it pool on the floor at his feet. He had more scars, marking his side and back.

“They are not the result of something that exciting. Just took a few arrows at the battle of the Stepstones.”

“I heard you won that fight pretty much single handedly, my Prince.” Your sultry gaze rose and you looked at him through your lashes. Running your fingernails down the dip between his pecs.

“Are we going to talk about my battle prowess all night or are we going to fuck?”

“Wouldn’t it be a surprise if I walked away after you promised so much and didn’t deliver.” Your words had the desired effect and the sense of anticipation leapt in your chest when he grabbed your face, pulling you close so he could feast on your mouth.

You went further, pushing his hips so he sat on the table. Manipulating your dress, you carefully lifted a leg up to mount him and he helped you by lifting the other so you were kneeling over him. Immediately you ground your hips over the barely covered bulge in his britches, enjoying the way he gasped in your mouth when he felt your unclothed cunt run over the exposed tip of his cock.

He wasted no time in pushing the material back down, taking a moment to feel how wet you were as he still ravished your mouth. His thick fingers nudged into you, stretching you so much you groaned, clutching at his face as you rolled your hips.

The motions between you became greedy, your nails scraped the underside of his chin. Daemon’s teeth seemed to seek out every fleshy spot he could reach but nothing slowed the relentless pressure of his fingers. A thumb passed over your bundle of nerves and your mouth dropped open, face contorting with pleasure you haven’t experienced in so long.

The orgasm rolled over you like the waves of the sea outside. Crushing walls you didn’t even realise you’d put up and baring a part of yourself that had been hidden for years. Daemon watched every little expression that crossed your face, studying you as though it helped him get to know you.

Withdrawing his fingers, he didn’t give you time to recover. Making you stand on shaky legs only to shove you over the table. Dishes of food went flying when he cleared a space for you, the metal singing a song as they clattered on the stone floor only to be punctuated by your shocked gasp when he ripped the fabric of your dress right down the seam.

“You’d look better in black,” he spoke thickly, barely containing his need for you. The material was discarded and your spine was bent until your cheek rested on the smooth wood. He gathered your slip at your hips, passing a hand over your backside and cupping your dripping cunt to gather your wetness. From the corner of your eye you could see him rub his glistening hand over his cock before he rubbed it along your slit. Teasing your entrance and looming over your back, trailing his hair between your shoulder blades.

There was no warning when he entered you, not that it mattered. You’d been waiting impatiently for the punishing stretch and he did not disappoint. You were slick enough to let him push in without any resistance and he took full advantage. The firmness of his thrusts jolting your body, a hand pressing into your back to hold you in place as he watched the way he slid so perfectly in and out of you.

Your body was craving him, your hands fisting because they had nothing to hold onto, your walls fluttering, squeezing him so tightly he had to lean his back and close his eyes to try and think of anything but the way you felt. He didn’t want this to end too soon; he wanted your body until you were bone limp and completely pliant.

The next orgasm ripped through your body and he paused to feel every tremble and to hear every obscene cry that came out of your pretty mouth. Your eyes were half closed when he slipped out of you, helping you up into his arms so he could lay you before the fire. You moaned, barely able to form words but your hands gripped his as he rubbed it up your front. Spreading his fingers widely over your stomach and up between your heaving breasts to trail his thumb over your lips.

You shifted, drawing his attention back to your exposed cunt and he moved. Settling between your legs, your thighs resting easily against his shoulders. You were glistening already but he wanted to add to it. Gathering the spit in his mouth and looking up to see you watching him with pupils blown wide, lips wrapped around his thumb as you sucked gently.

He spat on your clit. Diving down to devour you with his mouth, tongue licking you all the way up and down as he groaned with ecstasy at the taste of you. Legs tensed either side of his head and your shaky hand gripped his hair, urging him on. The cries you had no control over burst from your chest, hips grinding into his face until all he could sense was you and the ache in his spine as his cock twitched in desperation.

Another orgasm stole your senses. Whipping you into a state of higher bliss, a place no man had ever taken you before. Daemon looked over you, stroking some hair out of your face before he began all over again.

His mouth crushed into yours, the taste of you on his lips made you gasp. His skin was slick as it slid over yours, his body covering you, a hand digging into your thigh as he brought your leg up.

He lined himself up, pushing the thick tip into your aching mess of a cunt and you moaned loudly. He went slowly but steadily, allowing you to swallow him up until he had sheathed himself to the hilt inside you. Your walls fluttered at the welcome intrusion, stretching around Daemon’s fullness, making him curse in Valyrian.

You could barely concentrate, so cock-drunk on the feel of him it was struggle just to remember to breathe. His hand grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him as he flexed his hips, testing your waning limits.

Fingers fisted in the furs beneath you as he stoked the blazing heat inside you, making your toes curl tightly. Tired cries burst from your chest as he picked up the pace, pumping forcefully into your cunt so the sound of your sex filled the hall. He might have been praising you, degrading you, it didn’t matter. The rumble of his voice was all you could register as euphoria melted over your mind. The coil in your belly wound almost painfully tight and you thought you couldn’t take anymore from him when it snapped.

Your back arched, your legs clamped around him as your cunt squeezed on his cock from the force of your release. Your vision streaked with white, hands grabbing at the man on top of you, snatching at his arms until your nails drew blood. You felt him pulse inside you, right before he came to his own end with an explosive snarl. His mouth fell on yours, the salty taste of his sweat marked the edges of your lips as you both fed off each other’s highs.

He teased as much pleasure as he could out of you, until you were whimpering from the overstimulation and your body was limp and pliable. Finally, he pulled his softening cock free and rolled onto his back with a self-satisfied exhale. He looked over at you. His features were etched by the firelight but he looked softened. This wasn’t the hard faced man that had stolen you earlier today, the man that defied everyone just to please himself…here was a man who was letting his emotions show on his face. All barriers were down and you also felt oddly exposed to him. Not just naked, no this was something else. He turned to his side and began to stroke your slightly damp skin.

“Do you want to know the real reason why I stole you away?” His fingers drifted lightly over your aching stomach, watching the shadow his large hand cast in the twitching light of the fire.

“I think you’re dying to tell me,” you whispered. Your throat was dry and sore from all the noise he’d pulled from you. Daemon smiled, leaning forward to kiss your exposed shoulder.

“I wanted to save you from dreary men.” Your laugh was rich as it echoed in the stone hall and he grinned at the sound. Rolling onto your front under the furs you nudged into his wide chest.

“Yes, they were dreary. It’s why I killed them,” you admitted in a whisper.

“I promise to never bore you, ñuha prūmia.”

“And I promise to keep you on your toes, issa dãrys.” Your expression faltered when he didn’t respond. Did you say it wrong? Did he think you were undermining his brother by calling Daemon your king? You meant he was the king of your heart, he always had been.

“Do you know…everything I have done that my brother has not approved of has been because of you.” He couldn’t meet your eyes as he spoke, choosing instead to concentrate on your body.

“How so?”

“Every time you got remarried. I hated seeing you tied to some simpering idiot who didn’t deserve you. I could see how much it squashed your spirit.” You gently took his chin in your hand, forcing him to look at you.

“I cannot be tamed, Prince Daemon.”

“No.” He leaned into you, pretending to bite at your face as you giggled softly. “I want to free you,” he breathed. Gazing into his darkened eyes you felt your heart stutter in your chest. Your dreams were coming true, the man you’d been wanting since you’d come of age was here, naked at your side baring everything to you. “Avy jorrãelan,” he whispered into the shell of your ear.

“Daemon…” biting your lip, you let him roll you onto your back. His mouth was hot and wet as he skimmed his lips over your throat, fingers travelling down your body, drifting over your pert nipples.

“I know,” he mumbled into the soft flesh of your breast as he tongued and massaged your other nipple. Your fingers dipped into the crown of silver hair, back arching to offer yourself to him as much as possible. “I am yours,” he moaned, closing his eyes as though it tortured him to say such words.

“Se nyke aõhon!” You cried out when his fingers dipped into your aching heat. He groaned at the sensation of you, the thickness of his fingers filling you, bruising you almost. You were still tender from what had transpired before.

“If I could stay inside you forever, I would,” he whispered hurriedly as he rose above you. His hair dripped down like hot Valyrian steel as he leaned into you, sucking the mewling cries you gave him straight from your mouth.

You didn’t want to be anywhere else. You weren’t wanting him for power or status, he was so much more than his titles and bloodline. You wanted him because he made you feel things no other man had ever achieved. And those sensations were addictive.

#daemon targaryen x you #prince daemon targaryen #daemon x reader #daemon targaryen imagine #daemon targaryen fic #daemon targaryen fanfic #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon x you #daemon targaryen x f!reader

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ultimate-blorbo-collector · 5 months

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what about winter king x summer queen reader?

here’s a scenario fionna and cake and the ice scouts are in the middle of fighting the candy people until reader breaks in fist blazing and ready to kick candy queen’s butt, like she’s super mad and saves winter and simon

Hey, sorry for taking so long! I've had a lot going on (covid and exams mostly), and I wasn't sure how I wanted to end this one. I think I'll do a follow-up fic as well since I liked this one a lot.

Warnings: Insecure reader, unreliable narrator/reader, death/murder mentions

Wordcount: 1865

You sighed, feeling the cool water lightly splash against your skin and the heat from the pool floatie burn beneath you as you moved your arm. You closed your eyes and fully immersed yourself in this feeling. You always had this luxury, but for some reason, you felt like savoring it today.

Your servant cut through the water before stopping right beside you. It held out a glass of tea, and you took it and lightly held the top of the glass to the side, unafraid of whether the salty water would mix with it.

What you really craved at the moment was to skate around the kingdom of the Winter King, your fiancé. You loved the heat of your kingdom, but the Winter Kingdom was so enticing. The feeling of Simon’s cold hands touching your cheeks or hand or holding you close made you shiver almost every time. Not to mention, encasing yourself in snow and ice instantly relaxed you, no matter what.

You took a few sips of your tea as you drew yourself back to reality. You couldn’t be with him right now. He found travelers who desperately needed his help, and you could ruin everything by accidentally melting things. You eagerly agreed at the time. It wasn’t unreasonable for him to ask that of you. Just a few months before, you asked him to stay away from the fire people who came to you for help. It was hypocritical to now be upset; he has even more control over his power than you do.

Regardless of your reasoning, your stomach hurt. You called out to your faithful servant, “Nessie?”

She made a small hum as she swam back to you.

“Be honest.” You held the glass in both hands and tapped the glass before dropping it to the side. “Should I have told Simon to stay home when I helped those fire people?”

She caught the glass with her tail. “You know my answer, my lady.”

“I know, but I want to hear it again.” Your cheeks ran hot at that confession.

She held in a smile. “I think it was the right thing to do. He could have hurt them since he gets so excited. Just a little bit of snow, and swish, they’re gone. Snuffed out.”

“Thanks, Nessie.”

“Any time, my lady.”

You called back again, “Wait.” She stopped, and you continued, “Why do I feel so awful about having to stay here while he helps someone, then?”

“I think you’re worried about him. You don’t know anything about his visitors. May even be jealous.” You shot a glare, and her expression softened. “I’m sure he felt the same way.”

You began to relax again. “Thanks again. I'm sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s what I’m here for.”

You sighed and slunk back into your floatie. Nessie was completely right. You just didn’t want anything to happen to him, and being able to pinpoint what you were feeling took a weight off of your shoulders.

You closed your eyes again, only to hear faint quacking in the distance. A penguin slid to the edge of the pool, quacking frantically. You sprung up, falling off your floatie. You didn’t understand the penguins like the Winter King, but it was obviously distressed. Something was wrong.

You swam to the edge and climbed over, grabbing your dress off its lounge chair. You took a deep breath and heated your body, allowing the droplets on your skin to evaporate.

Nessie ran over to you with your sword. “I know you’re worried about him, but be careful.”

“Thanks.” You took your sword by the hilt before calling for your huge swan. “Send the penguin home for me.”

You weren't hopeful since you already knew what happened. The Candy Queen kidnapped Simon like she did every week. You rushed to the Candy Kingdom on your swan, flying just above the cotton candy trees. The thought of him standing in his gummy cell, listening to the Candy Queen’s newest attempt to serenade him made your blood boil.

You used to sympathize with her. She had to be so lonely and sad to repeatedly kidnap another person’s partner. Simon insisted she was only crazy. A freak accident melted parts of her brain, leading her to spend the next hundred years chasing after a man who didn’t love her.

You didn’t believe him at first, but your sympathy slowly dwindled as you were forced to save him over and over. You could swear that he allowed her to capture him sometimes. He could fight, and so could his many masterfully-crafted ice scouts, yet she still always managed to catch him off-guard somehow. You gripped the reigns, only to almost drop them when the swan honked softly.

You shook your head, trying to ground yourself back to reality. Simon gets so involved in whatever he’s doing, so getting kidnapped while helping travelers seems right. He’s just unlucky. Or maybe he’s lucky to have you around to save him.

Soon enough, you made it to the gates of the Candy Kingdom. You commanded your Swan to stay and burst inside, melting any of the candy minions who came near you. You rushed up the steps of the nearest tower, the sugary stairs sticking to your heels.

You reached the top floor where the Candy Queen normally kept Simon, only to find it empty. You assumed she took him on a “date,” only to turn to your right, finding a huge room you had never seen before. You watched as the Candy Queen led Simon and another man to the top of a giant mixer.

Simon called out to you and the mixer's whirring echoed as you ran through the room and up the stairs, passing more candy minions and the ice scouts. You made it to the top and called out to the Candy Queen.

She turned, dropping the two men on the ground. “It’s you! You need to stay away from my husband, lady!”

You charged towards her, missing your swing. “No, you get away from him, you hag!”

She dodged your next swing. “You know, he doesn’t think I’m a hag.”

“No, no,” Simon yelled out, “You’re a hag. Definitely.”

She stopped to wink. “He’s just playing hard to get.”

While she posed, you hit the back of her head with the hilt of your sword, and she fell to the edge of the mixer. You glared at her with your sword still in your hands. You could kill her and be done with all of this. You knew it wasn’t right, and Simon had begged you in the past to not let your anger and jealousy come over you.

But she went too far today. She tried to kill him by throwing him into a flipping blender. She was more than just a sad old hag or an inconvenience. She was dangerous.

You clutched your sword with both hands, only for Simon rushed in front of you to grab you by your cheeks, pulling you into a kiss. The cold encased you, and you instantly relaxed as you cooled. You dropped your sword, hearing it clank against the ground as you put your arms around him.

He held you like this for a while, only to pull away as you clung to his suit jacket. He smiled at you warmly and held your hands.

“Thank you, my queen,” He spoke loudly and held his arm out, almost like he was making an announcement, “You’ve once again saved us from the jaws of death.”

You nearly choked on your breath, amazed by his charm as you always were. “I can’t believe she tried to kill you.”

“Maybe the wedding announcement got to her.”

“I swear if she tries that again, I’ll kill her.”

“Well, don’t kill her. Please. Anything we do to her, she’ll just come back worse.” His face lightened. “But you saved us, my fair lady!”

“Is she going to be okay?” A voice came from behind you. You turned to the source to see a man with glasses. Were you crazy or was he eerily similar to Simon? They were so different. If you described both of them, they would sound so different, but when you looked at him, you also saw Simon, just without the long nose and blue skin.

“Ah, my lady, this is another version of me.” Simon put his arm around you, placing his hand on your shoulder, and you relaxed from tension you didn’t notice until then. “Simon, this is my fiancé, the Summer Queen.”

You took a small bow. “Nice to meet you.” The other Simon returned the greeting.

You watched a girl and a cat walk up the steps, and you reached to the floor for your sword, only for the Winter King to grab your hand again. “No, no, they’re with the other me.”

You blushed. This castle kept you on edge. You never knew who could arrive and take Simon—your Simon— away from you again, especially now that the Candy Queen had shown her new intentions.

You started to heat up again. Why couldn’t she just leave him alone? She wasn’t awful; there were crazier people in Ooo. She could easily find someone else, but no, your fiancé was too amazing.

“I think it’s time to go.” Your Simon picked you up in one fell swoop, and he laid a trail of kisses on your neck. His cold lips tickled your neck, sending shivers down your spine. You laughed softly and moved your head away from him, exposing your neck even more.

You looked over at the other Simon, who seemed almost jealous. The Winter King gently put you down, and you continued to make eye contact with him until he abruptly broke said eye contact. If there’s another Simon, maybe there’s another you. Could he be missing that other you?

The Winter King leaned down beside you. “Don’t mind him, Snowflake. He’s just sad.” You covered your mouth and tried not to laugh. How could he talk about himself like that?

You grabbed his tie, pulling and keeping him at your level. “Why is he sad?”

“He’s so lonely, dear, and not to mention he couldn’t break free from the crown.” He held your hand that gripped the tie as your loosened your grip. “He won’t be sad for long. I’m making him a new crown, and he’ll get better.”

You listened to the silence for a moment. The other Simon wasn’t very far from you. “I think you need to whisper.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I’m sure he understands. We can’t have you in the dark, can we?”

“No, I get that, but- You didn’t have to tell me this here. You could have waited.”

“Nonsense, it’s fine.” He straightened back up. “I think we just need to get you out of here. You’re so on-edge.”

You agreed and let the entire group ride back to the Winter Kingdom on your swan, careful not to let the other Simon fly off the back. You let the group off in the new hole in the Winter King’s lab. You held your Simon close for a moment before heading home.

#Winter King #Winter King x reader #Adventure time #fionna and cake #Winter King oneshot

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short-black-diamond · 1 year

Text

Hercules? -But make it MHA!

Brainrot over Hercules! Deku, who is absolutely smitten for Meg! reader. This is also turning into a Bakugo! x reader, plus...Dabi x reader???, but I don’t know if I should make a part 2 out of it...

Yara is your name here, and you are a woman. Your pronouns are she/her in this story plus, you are thick and soft, so chubby!reader.

Read! :D

Also, not proofread...

...

Like, imagine.

Okay, so, deku is like, he was thin and lanky and in his hometown, he didn’t get much recognition. He was just some nerd who wanted to see gladiators and fighters, and become one some day.

His daily life consists of studying about the history od dungeons and heroes, getting bullied by his childhood friend by not being able to attend the ‘Hero Course’ because he was too thin, and he looked ffragile.

Like a girl.

Then, one day, something tragic happens like Katsuki bullying him or telling him to take a swan dive, because it had been both their dream to become a fighter and hunt the dungeons. But, since Izuku couldn’t really train because of the circumstances - he and his mother were mere peasants who had to work on the field- and Katsuki’s parents were proud inhabitants working in the city of athen.

so, like, after that, Izuku encounters a dungeon on his way home from selling vegetables, and nearly fucking suffocates if it weren’t for you and Yagi Toshinori (=all might) to save him.

He didn’t see your face though, because of the mask you wore. He couldn’t even distinguish wether or not you were a woman or a man, your cape or ‘toga’ (?) covering your feminine silhouette from pervy or prying eyes.

But, he gets to know Yagi Toshinori and that he had been one of the greatest gladiators the world has ever seen. He had a mighty body, and was known as ‘All Might’ by the folks. But, as time went by, he also got older and eventually couldn’t fight anymore, and the people also forgot about him.

But that didn’t mean that he couldn’t pass down his legacy to an aspiring hero. You knew the older man’s intentions and tried to stop him, but Yagi didn’t budge. And so, Izuku trained day and night, learning from the older man’s tricks and tics, unaware of your frequent visits in your casual appeal when you helped out Inko without even her noticing.

[ you: ‘Okay, cabbage and tomatoes there, cucumbers and peppers here.’ ...done. I hope that’ll be enough and not too suspicious-oh shit, she’s coming- *jumps into a nearby bush and fucks off into the forest*

Inko: Who did that? Was that Izuku? I told him to not do all the hard work!]

Soon, the townspeople found out that some new hero was fighting and killing off monsters and beasts and they could only wonder if it was their well-loved Bakugo, also known as ‘Dynamight’, because he had the murderous intent and tendency to blow the nightmares off.

It wasn’t Bakugo, but Deku, who became a man with a bulking body-like the one of a greek god- and even got a few inches taller than his childhood best friend.

That of course, made Bakugo mad and he demanded to know how the hell Izuku managed to become a true gladiator in such a short time. Cue to Izuku having to lie at the fiery blonde because Yagi wanted to keep it a secret - but also because the retired hero thought that nobody remembered him.

It all then came crashing down when Yagi ordered you to make connections with the two young men. You, a sight for sore eyes, with the most beautiful eyes and most extraordinary hair, your skin glowing etherally in the sun, your ‘dress’ (??) underlining your curves amazingly. It was really a bonus that you were chubby too, gaining the attention of nearly the entire town- or places where you shouldn’t be...

You had to talk to the two men. You knew katsuki, unfortunately, and you had to fear that he might’ve fallen in love with you.

Now, Katsuki had seen plenty of pretty women in his life, he looked and smirked and flirted - but nothing too serious, never. BUT.

But.

He felt like a hopeless romantic whenever he caught sight of you. Katsuki always made new excuses whenever he went by your little library which you owned with your father. Yagi Toshinori.

He wanted to thank the gods whenever he caught a wiff of your scent, wanting to have the same one as you, searching in various markets which selled parfume for the scent smell as yours. He wanted to stare at these beautiful orbs of yours for the rest of his life. Bakugo wanted to write you thousands of poems in which he declared his love for you.

But he never had the time, constantly being called for another attack (he spent the nights reading romance novels and imagining himself as the hero and you the love interest). He was also brutish, loud, mean, egoistical, arrogant, and only cared for the cheers that came after the draw of a monster’s blood which he drew from his sword or hands.

However, Bakugo tried to be as nice, polite, calm, peaceful and gentle with you as he could muster. But internally, he fought and restrained himself for looking you in the eyes, in fear of losing himself in them. So he’d look at your hands, shoulders collarbone. Bad idea. He thought about how your hands would feel in his hair, massaging his neck, holding his face, his hands - He’d blush.

Even when he’d go more south, his thoughts wouldn’t be any better. Free shoulders, visible collar, large chest - he wanted to bury his face in you. inhale you. kiss you. mark you all over. touch your soft thighs, tummy, arms.

So he always looked/turned away when he talked to you. You kinda found it unpolite, but at least he didn’t yell at you or ask you out.

...

With Izuku howerver, that, that was another story. You actually never met him first, just heard his failed attempts for crying for help, your father right next to you. And without wasting a second, you put on your disguise as you ran towards the source and slaughetred the demon, making the poor freckled boy fall to the groun with an ‘oof!’ sound.

His face landed on mud, and when Yagi helped him to his feet while you were checking the place for any other intruders, Izuku thanked you. And then you turned around. You shouldn’t have done that though.

He had the most genuine and pure smile you’ve ever seen, innocent eyes looking up at you through teary eyes, cute nose which was adorned with freckles and unnaturally dark green hair. He was pretty thin, but he was cute, and you fell for him the moment you properly layed eyes on him.

Sadly, you couldn’t ask the boy in front of you if he had a partner because your dad was right next to you, so you just casually replied with an “it’s alright. As long as you’re not hurt.”

Izuku found you pretty cool -in your disguise- and could even talk to you whenever he ran into you or when you tipped his shoulder from behind. He’d always talk about the different classes of fighters, demons, dungeons and more.

But when you met him in your normal being, said boy couldn’t talk. He only stuttered out a “g-g-gg-ood m-m-morining..Yara...”, too scared to embarass himself and stumble over his feet, let alone his own words.

you loved it. Him. For his nerdiness. sweetness, kindness. he was also so smart. He had you write a few rolls again because they didn’t have the right grammar or were simply wrong. your wrist was so tired and still you met him again the next day.

...

“And, did you talk with the two boys?“, your father asked eagerly as you poured him some wine into his chalice. you poured yourself some tea.

“Yes, father.“

“were they nice to you?“

“yes.“

“Did they bring you flowers?“

“yes...?“

“Do you like any of them?“

“I-Father!?“

“Yara, you’re already old enough to get married, you know? I know that you like at least one of the two guys.“, Yagi explained, taking a long sip from his wine.

You were left speechless, but your thoughts did get consumed by a certain shy boy. But, you had to brush it off, telling your father that you’d be going out for some fresh air.

...

“So, you’ve fallen for our new hero, what now?“, the god of the underworld asked, soft blue fire lighting up his dark spiky hair.

You looked around yourself, disgusted by the many spiders and whatnot in the cave Dabi has made himself at home at.

“I don’t know what I should do, but you should definitely change your....apartment.“

Dabi was taken aback by your lack of taste, but he quickly brushed it off, about to introduce his new plan to you.

“We’ll talk about that later. what’s more important is that you’re going to help me-“

“I don’t care! I’m not gonna help you hurt him.“, you answered coldly, turning around.

Dabi rolled his eyes, massaging his forehead. “Can’t believe you’re getting so worked up about some...guy!”

“This one is different, h-he is honest and he’s sweet-“

“Please-“

“he would never do anything like that!“

“He’s a GUY!“

You smiled, turning away again and looking at the view in front of you. “You can’t beat him, he has no weaknesses. He’s gonna-“

You shouldn’t have turned around. You shouldn’t have been so proud, so...cocky.

You flinched at the devilish grin Dabi gave you. He went up behind you, softly touching your arms in the process as a mirror appeared in front of you - Dabi’s doing.

“I think he does, Yara.“, he whispered, enjoying the way you weren’t doing anything to stop him. “I truly think he does.“, Dabi murmured as he kissed your neck as you watched your and his reflection in horror.

“You’re...going to use me again?“, you asked bitterly, bite and tears boiling in your gut and head. you also hated yourself of how...well, your body answered to Dabi’s touches and kisses.

“Only for a bit. Trust me. I won’t even tear a strand of hair from your body, look how well I’m treating you now...!“

He hugged oyu from behind, his body heat making you tired and sleepy, but you still blushed from the body contact he gave you.

“What about Katsuki?“, you tried to reason, knowing that Dabi won’t be able to withstand the two greatest heores of Athen.

That made him halt in his steps before he pulled you even closer to himself, brushing some loose hair behind your ear as he watched your every move through the mirror. “well, my angel. You’ve gotta decide.”, he only murmured, before he stepped away from you.

You hated to admit it but you missed Dabi’s presence on you. “Decide what?”, you were very coutious about the way Dabi circled you, looking you up and down.

“well, I know for sure that nearly all of Athen have fallen for your beauty. Especially Deku and Dynamight.“

Shit.

“So, which one do you want to stay alive?“

...

how was that? Should I continueeeeee???????

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