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#zigfried von Schroeder
starleska 10 days
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"the rose motif you've got going on is kind of impressive!" whatever do you mean. i have always, always been normal about pretty men associated with roses 馃ゴ馃尮
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kaibacorpstocksplit 6 months
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YGOctober Day 28: Amelda, Diva, Siegfried von Schroeder
Everybody wants to be my enemy. (another idea from @rainstormcolors!)
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sktachi 6 days
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ZigFREAK 2.0
(I actually fixed my bad sketch lol)
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pinkhairswagtourney 2 months
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Pink Hair Swag Tourney: Niche Edition , Round One , Part Three
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nireey 2 years
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the dub is funny sometimes
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unfriendlyamazon 2 months
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lavender (fanfic)
pairing: Marik Ishtar/Zigfried von Schroeder
rating: T
warnings: discussions of kink (including breath play, rope, impact play, and dominant/sub roles), references to marik's abuse
expanding my yugioh relationship web, and i learned that the ship name for marik/zigfried is lavendershipping, which i adore. i wrote this as a kind of experiment, especially since i haven't written marik very much until now. still working on my headcanons and fanonizing ray but i liked this enough to share it.
....
He brings you lavender, no matter what you do to him.
Flowers decorate his halls, his clothes, his garden. The rose is his emblem, and he wears it with pride. Pink as the color of his hair, as the rosy highlight of his cheeks, of his lips as they open and gasp. The sun shines on him like a garden flower, and he blooms in its light. You like to take his love of beauty and make it ugly. Bruises turn purple then ugly yellow, you rain gold on him in humiliation, and those pink lips turn puffy and red. Roses blemish his skin with each strike, and thorns tear ribbons through his palms. In the beautiful halls of his home, with the rich dark wood, and the gold decorating the walls, and the brocades of delicate patterns, you make him ugly.
You are a creature of darkness, of dirt and pain. You were entombed before you were even born. Like a ghoul, your fingers scratched at the stone that held you beneath the earth and clawed your fingers to the bone to be free. There is a rage inside you. Your skin is tattooed against your will, scarred and mutilated to appease someone else鈥檚 vision. Some days it is too tight, and you imagine peeling the skin from your muscles until you are blood and bone.
From the moment of your birth your destiny was written in your own blood and branded to your skin so you may never forget. You were a creature lowlier than dirt, never meant to see the sun. Your whole life, you have felt like a slave. He makes you feel like a king.
You are cruel to him, you know that. Your hands make their way to his skin, pale and fragile like a porcelain doll鈥檚, and with only a touch it blooms in pinks and reds. You lay lashes against his skin until blood wells to the surface. You hold his throat tight and watch his mouth gasp for air. Ropes leave burns on his thighs, and the tender meat on his back is decorated with bruises in the shape of your hands. Every time you leave him, he is feeble, emasculated, unable to even cry for all the emotions you鈥檝e wrung out of him. Every time you abandon him and know you have left him ugly, abused, and he should run from you. Everyone should run from you.
And the next day he brings you lavender, because it matches the color of your eyes.
He calls you beautiful. He calls you master. He threads his fingers through the white blond of your hair and smiles as you close a fist around his throat. He says hurt me, begs for it, until his mouth encircles you and you ensure he can speak no more. When you slap him, his eyes fill with stars that you were never allowed to see beneath the soil. When daylight touches him, it shows the ugly marks you鈥檝e left behind, and he revels in how beautiful he finds them. He says he is your canvas, that you are an artist. You tell him to leave and he begs for you to stay. He finds you, crawling on hands and knees, crying for you to take him. You are forced to oblige. A king must tend to his subjects.
And now your life is full of flowers. He brings bouquets, his own roses, but others as well. Gardenias are for secrets, he tells you as he buttons his shirt over this bruised back. Hibiscus is for delicate beauty, like the shape of your eyes, and the curve of your hip. Lily-of-the-valley represent tears, and he holds them to his face so you can see the way they drop from his eyes so beautifully. It鈥檚 the wild roses he likes to add, both pain and pleasure at the same time. Lavender, he tells you, is for peace, as though you ever bring him that, but he tells you too it is for devotion. You watch him tut and fuddle and place the bouquets in the perfect spot so the sunlight reaches them. You wait for them to die and rot so you can shatter the pretty vases against the ground, but he never lets them. He is diligent with it. He removes the old ones without you even seeing. They are always fresh, they are always lovely, and they always mean something.
You have rarely known devotion. Those that serve you do so because they want to touch your power, and the only person who has ever taken on your pain has done so out of want of what you have. Now, every night, every hour if you wished it, there is someone who wants your pain, not because you are first born son, not because of your lineage, but because that pain brings him pleasure. He has everything. You sleep in his mansion, on his silk sheets, touching the luxurious fabrics he offers to buy for you, with stables and gardens and a legacy built on power, not servitude. He gives it all up to you. He wants it to be yours.
You linger longer. You draw baths with rose petals on the surface. You wash his skin and apply balm to his wounds. He thanks you. He says this is what love should feel like.
This is how love has always felt to you. It is a thing of cruelty, but this is the first time you have felt that that鈥檚 okay. That to say someone deserves it is not a punishment. It is a blessing. It is freedom. And your rage and your anger, that is freedom too, not to be scared of, but to accept and use. Your hands, with filth and blood beneath the nails, are not weapons. Not anymore than he wants them to be.
You sleep in his bed, breathing in the smell of lavender.
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thewittyphantom 3 months
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I found a really neat story told in news articles where, at the end of DSOD, the Quantum Cube explodes and spreads psychic monster-summoning powers all across the world, and things start to change on a worldwide scale.
https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14327472/1/Yu-Gi-Oh-Minus
"It's time. Mokuba, you're in charge." They were the last words he heard from his brother. Mere moments later, Seto Kaiba would vanish in the Quantum Cube's unexpected explosion. As the world is left to pick up the pieces, something incredible happens. Only time will tell if this miracle is for the better... or worse.
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ap-kinda-lit 6 months
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Seto: So we're supposed to just wait until it turns into an epidemic? You're like the League of Nations of '36: just hoping the Abyssinian Crisis resolves itself.
Zigfried: That's the lesson you draw from the fall of Addis Ababa? Seto, you sound so naive.
Seto: And you sound like Victor Emmanuel III.
Yugi: I can't tell who's winning.
Seto: I am.
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humanoidtyphooon 1 year
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EUH
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graygauze 1 year
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Back after over a month to draw a guy I haven鈥檛 even seen in the show yet.
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glowintheart 9 months
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07/30/23 - Touhou Artist Draws Man?!? (Zigfried von Schroeder from Yugioh)
I can't believe my girlfriend and I are almost done with yugioh second series my brain is so full of yugioh. Life has been busy so I haven't been drawing as much but I have a few ideas I'd love to work on!! Same goes for music, work is busy so I usually just game in my free time but I wanna work on more creative projects too ^_^ maybe I'll post more small things like this!
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starleska 12 days
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the YGO dub is the gift that keeps on giving 馃槼
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neenack 6 months
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SASAMI DOES THAT BE YOU???? IN MY YUGIOH???
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sktachi 10 days
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ZigFREAK
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justasuta 2 years
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Happy belated Birthday to my special boy and HIS special boy <3
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He got him a new outfit and they're now furries because that's how I like it and they're MY SPECIAL BOYS TOO.
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nireey 2 years
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I totally stole borrowed this from ygotas.
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