#all neurons activated at once

[canisalbus]

Would Machete and Vasco have any interest in learning a musical instrument? If so, what would they play? ( cannon or original)

I have been thinking about re-learning playing piano again, and it struck me that piano seems to be a instrument Machete could enjoy playing if he had the chance.

Do I get to pick any instruments I want for them? Even kind of unlikely weirdo ones?

Machete doesn't play anything in original canon or modern au, but if he did, I think the only truly correct choice would be pipe organ.

16th century Vasco can play lute a little bit! It's not something he's very enthusiastic about but it was part of his education. Maybe he'd be more into it in the modern times.

Or, alternatively, hurdy-gurdy, which has somewhat of a darker sound to it. I just think he'd look smashing cranking that big ol' thing.

[nhi-theuserof-this]

I think that watching episode 52 of ninjago activated a whump neuron as a child because I can specifically remember just rewatching that episode all the time specifically to see the scene at the end where lloyd is just going though it and almost fucking drowns

[marcusagrippa]

I LOVE THE NEW (? I TJINK) THEME

YES IT IS NEW AND THANK YOU!!!!

[xavalav]

i need to eat a glow stick i think that would fix me

[sifwithagun]

a cool fact about me is that I look at souls games much the same way a 13 year old girl in 2004 might have looked at an issue of tiger beat. i think this is because there is something deeply, deeply wrong with me on a fundamental level

[capitanonice]

https://comment-tube.tumblr.com/post/688704114085019648 (original)

[preciouslittlefawnie]

Purring so loud

[autistickaitovocaloid]

I don't play prsk and probably never will but I want to throw vbs kaito at a wall like he's one of those water filled splat balls.

[robo-bozo7125]

i dont know much about the robot that answers the phone in vacation simulator but i think im in love with him

[basi-boy]

listen to me. listen. The Boy seems like an incredibly boring, shitty movie. I know that. I can see that.

however,

[brood-mother]

babe are you okay you've listened to hoziers new single swan upon leda on repeat for an hour and a half already

[gatitties]

Web of love

─Yandere!Jujutsu Kaisen x fem!reader (platonic)

─Summary: forced to abandon your family and being spit out into a world of curses where everyone seems to gravitate towards you

─Warnings: a little angst¿ obsession, toxic behaviors, yandere stuff

Part Two / Part Three / Part Four

The blank pages: Part One

ok I had a burst of inspiration and I needed to write also need more platonic yanderes for jjk 😔 (I'll probably write another part because I left out many characters and villains… 😈)

SOMETIMES you think that you had to do something very terrible in your old life, something unforgivable and unimaginable to be punished right now, sometimes you think that the easiest thing would be to bang your head against the wall until you are stupid enough to have a caregiver and stop worrying about many things.

You just wanted to help your parents with the family business, being a time of high demand in the hostelry sector, taking advantage of your school holidays, you loved your family very much and helping in the business was the least you could do.

But the moment a group of children come in screaming excitedly and running from one side to the other you lost your nerve, yes, they are kids celebrating a birthday, but so much activity, noise and annoyance made a vein swell on your forehead, you were reaching the limit, but at least there were only a couple of hours left to be able to close and surreptitiously remove the last people with brooms.

You swore you were losing years and hair, that the minutes passed slower and slower as if you were stuck in an endless hour.

"I think if you keep squeezing the tray like that you'll break it, honey."

Your mother squeezed your shoulder, you turned to look at her, she was behind the bar, cleaning with a cloth while she glanced at you from time to time, she certainly knew how to detect when you were losing your temper, after all she saw you have many crises nervous before.

"Sorry, you know I can't stand so much movement and annoying noises, it's exhausting."

"Oh, I think you can go home if you want, you've done enough for today miss."

A new voice joined in, your father made way with a couple of plates, he left them on the bar to place his hands on your shoulders and rub circles on them, calming you with his touch, you smiled in agreement, your mood improving as you heard that you can go home once and for all, they wouldn't have much work at this hour.

"Don't forget the jacket love, it's already night and it's cold outside!"

"I know mom, bye, love you two!"

You shouted as you were already walking through the door, you waved to both of them before walking out onto the lonely streets, luckily your house wasn't too far from the family business. Without wasting time you grabbed your faithful life companions, your headphones, connecting them to your phone to listen to music at a ridiculously high volume. You let music be your final destination, if you ever suffer an accident, at least it'll be listen to something you like.

Moving your head slightly to the rhythm of the sound, looking at the ground as your legs moved on their own, knowing the way back by heart, you concentrated on drowning out the thoughts leaving your mind blank, it wasn't very difficult since you barely had enough active neurons at this time to have too deep thoughts.

"Huh?"

Some mist came out of your mouth when you felt something tiny cling to your leg, confused, you looked down with a blank look and an imperturbable face, you saw like a kind of fairy-bug, a strange thing was sticking to your leg, looking at you with eyes of a kicked dog. Oh yeah, you started seeing these kinds of creatures, monsters, whatever they are, a couple of months ago when you decided to walk into a 'witchcraft' shop just because a bracelet seemed cute to you.

When you wanted to question the old woman who sold it to you ─after checking that you hadn't spent too much time on the Internet to be hallucinating─ she was no longer there, as if she had disappeared from the face of the earth, no one seemed to remember her except of you.

You grimaced, holding the little thing carefully, pushing it away from you as if you had just taken unidentified food out of the sink after having washed the dishes, without hesitation you threw it like it was a snot, you didn't even hear the squeal that came from it as it crashed to the ground because you hadn't turned the music down.

You continued your path, ignoring how more of those monsters began to appear, larger ones, with more or less human shapes, you didn't know if you had reached the point of emotional exhaustion that you no longer cared about those things, or you were so desensitized to certain things that you barely changed your expression.

"Help… help please… my son- oh- it burns…"

Your feet stopped suddenly, almost falling face first to the ground as you felt one of those monsters cling to your arm like an old woman crossing the street with a helper, looking at you with tears flowing down her cheeks, murmuring things you wouldn't understand if you weren't able to read lips, her hand went higher and higher, absorbing your body in a kind of wrestling-like lock-hug.

If you could you would pinch the bridge of your nose, you started to struggle with the woman, she started screaming the further you got away from her, you cursed silently when you couldn't get her off. This was it, the only thing that bothered you about seeing strange things was that they clung to you as if you were some kind of helper or salvation, you are not a saint, you are not a savior, you were nobody, but they kept coming to you like bees to pollen.

"Looks like you need some help"

You turned your head slowly, dramatizing the side eye you gave to that familiar voice, you heard by chance because of the song change and the small silence, but you could feel his presence for miles. Your frown deepened as you saw the albino look at you with a smile, oh, not only did you have to deal with these curses on your own, as if that were not enough, being one of the few people capable of perceiving these things certain people became interested in you. Sorcerers, it was funny, you didn't believe in magic until you saw this albino lunatic exorcise a curse in front of your eyes, even though you were somewhat skeptical, you refused to attend his institute, but they kept showing up to persuade.

"No, I can take care of this."

"Aw sure, go ahead then, I want to see how you do it."

This time you didn't listen to shit, but his shit eating smile told you everything you wanted to know, you started to struggle with the cursed woman again, it didn't work until you started talking to her. You found it was easier if you tried to give comforts to the poor cursed souls, and you had to do it reluctantly on these types of occasions, removing your headphones for greater concentration. You were terrible at comforting people, so it was like an uphill climb to get that curse to leave you alone.

"And that was ten minutes, you could have done it in twenty seconds if you knew how to use cursed energy."

"Just get lost, I already said no."

"We are offering you free knowledge, how can you refuse it?"

"Aren't public schools there for that?"

"There are no exorcization courses that I know of."

You rubbed your face desperately, you didn't want to learn sorcery, you didn't want to get in trouble, you didn't want to have to comfort anyone, you wanted your simple life, helping your parents, studying, getting a decent job. What kind of future would guarantee you knowing how to control that cursed energy? Clearly nothing good.

"I'm going to put it another way… you attract cursed energy, until now you have been lucky enough to find desperate souls in search of comfort, but what will happen when something much worse is stalking you? Something that seeks blood, your blood."

"Then I'll die, isn't it obvious?"

You raised your thumb with a sarcastic smile, you were too tired to continue a conversation, unfortunately Gojo's next words resonated in your head like a scratched record.

"What if they were your parents? They will not be safe by your side, as I said you attract bad energies."

A lump formed in your throat, letting a shaky breath escape your lips, he watched in silence as he had managed to hit your weak spot, your family, it was something you wouldn't change for the world, they were people who would die for you without a second thought, and just like them, you would give your life for them, they showered you with love and affection, the least you could do was protect them from your own problems.

As annoying as it was to give Gojo an affirmative answer, you had to swallow your pride for a greater reason, and just a week later you were already making the move. Covered as a kind of “Erasmus”, your parents were happy that you were going to explore and meet friends on your own, you wanted to tell them that you didn't want to go, that they would refuse to allow that decision, but that wasn't the case.

Then began what seemed like torture for you, as if you had fallen into a spider web and the more you struggled, the more you got caught in the webs. It was strange, everyone there seemed to have knowledge about who you were and where you came from while you were completely uninformed, it felt strange to be greeted so warmly by unknown people, inside you it was stressful to receive such a degree of attention, but you kept your expression unfazed.

You were like an extension of Megumi, only less expressive and definitely more stupid, you had no thoughts beyond your lost eyes staring into space, nothing made you flinch, nothing made you laugh, nothing made you have a hint of emotion that wasn't nervousness or tiredness. And yet the three first-year students, your classmates, could hear how you tried to drown out your nightly sobs, longing for your home and your family, how you secretly laughed lightly when you saw something stupid on your phone. Why didn't you want to share your emotions with them? Weren't they good enough for you?

You don't know what you triggered by strictly trying not to get emotionally close to people who from one day to the next could be in a grave, just because you couldn't stand it, just because you couldn't stand giving up more parts of your little heart to have them break later.

Itadori started to stick to you like a sticker, are you going for a walk? He needs to stretch his legs, do you want to laze around? He too! He is new to this world of curses like you, so he thinks it is better that you help each other in the face of complications and training. The first time he saw how a curse clung to you for comfort it almost gave him a seizure, he would never think he would be able to exorcise something so quickly, it worried him how used you were to being 'attacked' like that constantly and it only increased his worry, he needed to keep you safe from this dangerous world, it was a promise.

Megumi felt sorry, unlike him you had a normal and happy family, people to turn to, a little envious, he wasn't going to lie, but he tried to make you as comfortable as possible, maybe a little too paranoid about your well-being now that you were a novice unwilling to learn, he felt like he was your big brother, he wasn't going to take an eye off you even for a second, you could get hurt or worse and he had already experienced the bitter feeling.

Nobara was persistent that you open up to her, after all girls should be close, maybe she got too obsessed with that phrase when she watched suspiciously as Itadori dragged you to do something stupid ─against your will but without the energy of to refuse─ and you weren't going with her to have a snack or shopping, she felt a pang in her heart, what if she's not there and something happens? She doesn't trust anyone to take care of you, everyone is inept in her eyes.

Gojo proclaimed himself your fake father, no matter how hard he tried, he would in no way replace the real one, but if he wanted to play the family game you would let him if that made him happy. His attitude was the one that bothered you the most because it made you look like a helpless person at his side, he made you look like you needed him to take care of you. You accepted being the weakest link, but you could fight your own battles, especially after discovering some of your abilities, but he wouldn't allow it, you're too adorable to let go.

After some tests, missions and training, they discovered that your cursed energy acted like an antenna, attracting all curses that wanted to be forgiven or sought freedom. You were cursed with the 'gift' of forgiving and freeing from torture curses that wanted to cease to exist, and you acted as a peacemaker on some occasions. Luck was definitely not on your side or it was kicking you for having laughed at so many other people's sorrows on the internet, couldn't you punch? Kicks? Do voodoo? Summon shikigami? No, you had to pat and release cursed souls.

You didn't have enough suffocating attention from the sorcerers that you also had to have that from the curses. You were going to look for the old woman who cursed you the day you entered her store in another life and you were going to sacrifice her in the name of barbatos.

"Hey there you were! We're going out to dinner, are you coming?"

Nobara opened your door without knocking, you didn't stop looking at the ceiling while you lay motionless in your bed, you shook your head slowly in denial, you weren't in the mood, you were never in the mood.

"Don't talk nonsense, there is no way you can stay here alone, come on, come on! Gojo will pay for everyone."

Itadori entered immediately, pulling your wrist to drag you, you slid off the bed like a dead body, looking blankly at the boy who was giving you a puppy dog look, it wasn't that that made you accept, but if you didn't accept you would pass more time arguing with them in a useless way. You had learned to accept your destiny, you had learned to stay still in that web, maybe if you manage not to move you can free yourself, just maybe.

"I'm glad you decided to accept! It is good to have bonding time with your classmates and teacher, it encourages communication."

You nodded, looking absentmindedly at your phone, scrolling through the screen without looking at anything in particular but not wanting to have to look at the albino's expression, he knew you were going to accept, he knew you were going to go with them because they wouldn't give you any other option. He put his arm around your shoulders dragging you towards the car while he chattered things that went in one ear and out the other.

"Will you sit next to me?"

" No way, she will sit with me!"

And the tug of war began between Itadori and Nobara over who you would sit next to, too stubborn to 'share' if you sat in the middle, they would prefer to be the only ones next to you, Megumi on the other hand was the smartest when entering the first, if he sat in the middle he would assure him that you would sit next to him, however, absorbed in the discussion, they did not notice how you moved towards the passenger seat, end of the discussion and the headache, now you just had to rack your brain thinking about how to solve the fight next to who you would sit at while eating without giving anyone the benefit.

Sometimes you think that you had to do something very terrible in your old life, something unforgivable and unimaginable to be punished right now, sometimes you think that the easiest thing would be to bang your head against the wall until you are stupid enough to have a caregiver and stop worrying about many things, now you had four caregivers but no concussion, for now.

[redbleedingrose]

Hey it’s the anon that had the nightmares. Headcanons about dealing with nightmares would be absolutely amazing if you’re up for it, thank you so much. You truly have no idea how much you’ve helped me 🥺

Of course dear!!! Here you go!!! (sorry this took so long sweetheart)

Edit: This ask has been sitting in my drafts for months and I am so sorry I didn't post it until now. Writers block and general insecurity does crazy things to me.

How the Bat Boys would help you with your nightmares!

Rhysand

Okay, the thing about Rhys is that I think he remains fully aware of your presence at all times, even in his sleep. He can feel you next to him, your body pressed against his, your heart beat thumping at his side, the weight of your head on his shoulder, he can feel it.

He also, is very in tune with your emotional state. Maybe it has to due with your mating bond, but tbh, I think his love for you has brought him a number of powers that allows for the deepest sort of connection to you. He can feel the emotions that you feel. It can go as far as Rhys feeling the roof of his mouth ache when you burn your mouth from drinking too hot tea, it can go as far as him feeling like someone has poked him hard when he is entirely alone in his office (when it is Cass who is poking at you, whining at you to share your summer imported mandarain oranges with him) and if Rhys really sits on it, he can also feel your mixed emotions of amusement and teasing towards Cass in that moment.

So I think that if you were having a nightmare, Rhysand would know. He would feel your heart racing from fear, it would make his own stutter. He would feel the panic pumping through your veins, and it would nearly send him into a frenzy.

Rhys would be awake, shushing your tired whines, and peppering the softest kisses all over your face to slowly ease your mind. The high lord of night would absolutely slip into your mind like butter, easing all the fired up neurons that have built up from your nightmare, slowly detangling the knots of emotion twisted inside your mind without waking you. He would pull you impossibly close, his heart beating against yours, his hands tangled in your hair, rubbing at your scalp, and naturally, you tuck your forehead into his neck, a quiet sigh leaving your once quivering lips.

Your nightmare would have dissolved without your knowledge, and you would be lulled into a dreamless sleep with your mate holding you close, his warm cheek resting on your head with one hand resting at the back of your neck and the other hand stroking up your spine, protecting you from anything and everything, even your own mind. You would wake up without any memories of the nightmare, and if I am being honest, Rhysand wouldn't want to remind you of it either, so he keeps this part of his duty towards you to himself.

Cassian

I am not gonna lie, this male is a heavy sleeper. He is dead to the world once his head hits the pillow. And he freaking snores too. Actually, he is famous for how loud he snores. Cassian can be heard snoring from across the house of wind. And initially, it was really hard for you to fall asleep to. In fact, you would force Cass to stay awake until you fell asleep because you just could not with his snoring.

And now?? Now this fucking male has you unable to fall asleep without his snoring. You need his heated, and I mean this male is a literal furnace, nearly naked body beneath you, with his burly arms wrapped tight around your waist, with your head pressed against his male tits, your legs tangled with his, in order to fall asleep. The snoring has become its own sort of white noise to you, and without it?? You will stay up the entire night and be extremely grumpy the next morning, often resulting in the back of Rhysand's head getting smacked for his taunting. (if Cass is out on a mission for longer than a day or two, Rhys actively avoids you for fear that you will end up choking him for sending his general away. Not that that has ever happened before.... nope... never................)

So. On good nights, you are usually snoozing it away with your hunk of a male, and you end up waking up to a lovely "surprise" poking at your tummy and a male who is too turned on by you to be ashamed in the slightest.

On bad nights though, on nights where you worry about Cassian, on nights where all of your fear of losing your loving mate culminates into nightmares, don't ever doubt that Cass wouldn't be there for you. Cassian is the general of the night court of a reason. He, like Rhys and Az, has been trained, for centuries, to be aware of his surroundings, even in his sleep. So while he might sleep heavy, his body are attuned to taking note of his environment, and that means, his body and his bond is focused on you throughout the night.

So he does wake up to you tensing, to your quickened breathing, to your restlessness, immediately too. His eyes would snap open, with his arm around your waist firm and tight, his other automatically reaching for the dagger he has hidden under his pillow, looking out for any signs of immediate danger to you. Not to himself. To you. His instinct does not edge towards self preservation. It hasn't since he met you. His instinct is to protect you at all costs.

Once he realizes that there isn't any physical threat that is causing your distress, his attention goes back to you, an ache burrowing itself in his chest as he notices your hand is clenching into a fist against him, as he notices your face is screwing up in fear, as he notices your body shaking. His mouth drys at the sight of you looking so scared, and he wouldn't be able to help himself.

Cass would murmur quiet reassurances, rubbing at the space between your shoulder blades and planting kisses onto your furrowed brows, "wake up sweetheart, s'jus a nightmare" and "shhh, I got you love, I'm here" and "s'okay baby, you're fine" and "c'mon, that's it, that's my girl, wake up f'me beauty"

When you wake with a start, he hushes your cries and pulls you in even closer. He would turn you both onto your sides, your front melding against his with his arm tucked under your head and around your hip with his leathery paper thin wings shield you both from the outside world. It's this warm cocoon that he forms around you where you spend the rest of the night and into the early morning.

At first, you would apologize for waking him up so early, knowing that he has training in the morning with Az and the others, but he dismisses that immediately, stressing to you that his only concern, at this time and forever, is you. He would stay awake with you, attentively listening to your ramblings about your nightmare, playing with the ends of your hair while you tell him all your secret fears. And he would kiss you and promise to protect you no matter what, and he would promise to keep you safe. Eventually, you would end up falling asleep, the closeness of your mate, his gentle breathing, and the warmth he brings relaxing you enough to a dreamless rest. And Cass, the ever diligent and loving male, would stay awake for the rest of the morning, skipping out on training to watch over the love of his life and make sure that you don't have any other nightmares.

In the morning, after you wake up feeling rested, Cass would finally let you go, a soft kiss to your lips and a wink in goodbye, only to come back within ten minutes, bringing you some warm, fresh chai that he made for you with some oatmeal that you both share in bed together. You spend the rest of the day cuddled up with your mate with slow and sweet love making, hushed oaths to each other to protect one another, and long naps in between.

Azriel

Azriel is a completely attuned to you. And so are his shadows. He has one that you have noticed that constantly follows you around, that learns every single thing about you to report back to its master. And then there are a couple that you haven't noticed. Ones that stay hidden in the darkness with full intent to take care of anything that puts you in harms way. And it stays that way always, regardless of the timing.

So at night, when your heart rate jumps, your blood pumping through your veins, your eyes furrowing shut too tightly, the slightest bit of sweat breaking out on your skin, they are the first to notice. And they are the quick to notify their master about it, hurridely slithering to his ears to wake Az so he can help you.

Azriel would initially try to soothe you in your sleep, his heart aching at the thought of you being afraid of something he can't control. A quick command to his shadows has the curtains to your balcony eased apart, the light from the moon and stars beaming in through the large glass doors. His scarred hands would stroke at your cheeks ever so gently, your mating bond humming at the barely there touch. Az wouldn't hesitate to place his lips in the space between your brows, moving from one soft edge of your face to the next with small pepperings of kisses.

He would thumb at your edge of your jaw, the calloused tip of his finger reminding you in your sleep that he is there. That he didn't leave sometime in the night. That he would never leave. That he would always be there to protect you. To care for you. To love you. He knows that you have your own traumas that you deal with, and he wants you to feel in control of your problems. Nightmares... they make you feel out of control. And he is there to give the power right back to you.

Most nights, Azriel's simple touch is enough to soothe you. I'm ngl, it does stroke his pride a little (a lot) that he is able to calm his mate with just the touch of his hands. With something that he used to keep hidden behind his back when he talked to others, something that he would cover up from the shame of his past, something that he feared would one day lead to a disgusted look on your face. And on those nights that his touch is enough, once you are settled, he pulls you closer to him, tucking his arm around your waist and wrapping one of his large wings around both of your figures, burying his face into your neck so he can fall back asleep to the feel of your pulse against his skin.

On the nights where the nightmares are just too much, where you are too deep in the dream that you can't feel anything but the fear, Azriel will wake you. He loathes the thought of disturbing your sleep, he hates that you will most likely not feel rested in the morning, but his heart shatters into the tinest pieces when he can feel the end of your mating bond crying out for him in your sleep. So he lays a firm hand on your forehead, his other hand rubbing at your shoulder, tenderly shaking you awake: "wake up my love, it's alright," and "you're fine my sweet girl, I'm here," and "I promise I'll always be here my dove, now be a good girl for me an wake up"

He would hush you as you startle awake, the jolt of your body causing him to wrap his arms tightly around you with mumbled, "that's it, there's my starshine" and "s'okay moon, it was just a bad dream" and after a good long while of him calming you down, he would whisper into your hair with a final kiss to the top of your head, "c'mon love, let's get you something to drink."

Azriel wouldn't let you lift a finger or a toe for that matter. Male would take your comforter and wrap you up like a burrito and then carry you all the way down to the kitchen where he settles you onto the counter, sending you the most beautiful, tired smile while he makes you some chamomile tea. He would be slow in each of his steps, the small smile on his pretty lips never leaving his face as he feels your gaze watching his every movement. He adores doing things like this for you. He craves doting on you. He thinks you are his treasure. A gift from the mother herself. And he plans to make sure you feel that way, all the time, forever, until you and him only exist as stars in the night sky.

A/N: 😫🫠🥲 Sorry this was a bit repetitive, but I hope you liked it ❤️❤️❤️

[tismrot]

HOW FATAL IS YOUR GOOD OMENS BRAINROT ? a checklist

Give yourself a point for everything that applies to you.

LEVEL 1 [ ] I have seen both seasons.

[ ] I can name at least one character that isn’t Aziraphale or Crowley.

[ ] I know that Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman wrote the book. Points: [ ] of 3

---

LEVEL 2 [ ] I have seen both seasons more than once.

[ ] I know I can write “Aziraphale” without spelling it wrong. Bonus point if you have actually written the name anywhere, for any reason.

[ ] I have had a conversation about Good Omens with a person outside of the internet in the last 3 months. Points: [ ] of 3 + [ ] bonus points --- LEVEL 3 [ ] I experienced any negative feeling beyond "ouch, that sucks for them!" after the ending of season 2.

[ ] I have looked up anything related to Good Omens, Neil Gaiman, Terry Pratchett, Michael Sheen or David Tennant in the last 3 months.

[ ] I know what #payyourwriters refers to.

[ ] I have had at least one (1) thought about Crowley or Aziraphale (or both). Bonus point if you told anyone (Tumblr counts).

[ ] I read the book before the show came out. Points: [ ] of 5 + [ ] bonus points ---

LEVEL 4 [ ] I have seen both seasons more than three times and some scenes more than that.

[ ] Somebody watched Good Omens because of me. One extra point for each additional person!

[ ] I catch myself thinking about Good Omens when I should be thinking about other things.

[ ] I have listened to Queen more than I usually do during the last 3 months.

[ ] I have read or listened to the book (don’t have to have read/heard all of it for 1 point) after season 1. Points: [ ] of 5 + [ ] bonus points ---

LEVEL 5 [ ] I have analyzed the lyrics of most of the songs and experienced moving emotions.

[ ] I have either made a new account or revived an unused account somewhere ONLY to browse Good Omens related media. One bonus point for each additional new/renewed account. (Renewed = you haven't touched it in at least 2 years)

[ ] I have watched at least 5 videos on YouTube about Good Omens.

[ ] I no longer blush while reading fics.

[ ] I have a stash of saved images on my phone/IG account/Pinterest/other I would very much not like anyone to see.

[ ] I have made any game character look like characters from the show. Three bonus points if you googled 'south downs cottages' while playing The Sims. Points: [ ] of 6 + [ ] bonus points ---

LEVEL 6 [ ] I have genuine, tangible heartbreak due to Good Omens, and I have experienced heartbreak before - so I know what it feels like. (Friend/platonic/aro heartbreaks count, ofc.)

[ ] I have shared my support for the strikers multiple times.

[ ] I know more than I’d like to know about the anatomy of male snakes.

[ ] I have published Good Omens related media - fics, artwork, big metas (spent more than three hours researching/writing it), music, videos. Bonus point if this happened on a recently created or renewed account.

[ ] I have had dreams about something Good Omens-related. If this was a spicy dream, collect 3 extra points.

[ ] Things that shouldn’t remind me of the show, reminds me of the show. (Flies, clocks, ducks, classical music, drinking coffee, anything related to England, biblical references, etc.)

[ ] I have a set of beliefs and theories that I stick to - example: coffee theory, body swap theory, Crowley is Raphael, etc. Bonus point if any of these are genuinely from your own head.

[ ] I have a favorite Crowley (Bildaddy?).

[ ] I have listened to other people’s Good Omens themed playlists/music on YouTube or Spotify. Points: [ ] of 9 points + [ ] bonus points ---

LEVEL 7 [ ] I have experienced a spike in learning/skill after watching the show. (Read Shakespeare, history, philosophy, books mentioned, shown or referenced l, learned or improved a craft and any other neuron connection boosting activity).

[ ] I have experienced an increase in my preferred destructive coping mechanism after watching the show, but I’d rather have it this way than not having watched it.

[ ] I have been sad that I am not an immortal, celestial being fighting for the opportunity to finally be with my soulmate and lover, another immortal, celestial being forced to work for a rival oppressive government, after 6000 years of queer yearning and forbidden desire. I have been sad that I - due to human life expectancy, at the very least - can NOT experience such love. Ever.

[ ] Good Omens has affected my sexuality (kinks, roleplay, thoughts, type of desired partner, etc.)

[ ] I know what the archangel Michael’s ring looks like, and what it’s modeled after.

[ ] I have made my own playlist with music reminding me of Good Omens.

[ ] I have had trouble sleeping because I thought about my fic narrative (even if I haven’t started writing it yet), unfinished drawing, video idea or similar.

[ ] I can, with worrying accuracy, correctly guess the episode when watching a scene from the show.

[ ] I read an insane amount of layered theories and possible references and so on, into every word said by Aziraphale and Crowley, to the point where watching is difficult because I get so many fan theories in my head I have to write down.

[ ] I want to travel to London. Bonus point if you already have been to London pre-brainrot and hated it. If you live in London, you get a point if Good Omens made you visit Soho even though you know it wasn’t filmed there. If you live in Soho, you get a point if you've been to the South Downs because of Good Omens.

[ ] I have thought of or prepared a Good Omens costume for Halloween. Bonus point if you have already found a reason to wear it. Bonus point if you wear it casually. Bonus point if the costume is inconspicuous enough that you can go to work/school without it being too weird. Bonus point if, when wearing your costume, you sat on a bench on purpose. Points: [ ] of 11 + [ ] bonus points --- INSANE LEVEL [ ] I have been a fan of the book since 1990. [ ] I read queerness into the book independently (be honest). [ ] I have made money creating Good Omens-anything. [ ] I have met and/or talked to Neil Gaiman/Terry Pratchett(RIP)/the actors outside of social media (mail and cons count, Tumblr does not) specifically about the book or later, the show. [ ] I have hosted a Good Omens themed event (wedding, birthday party, con, baby shower, etc). One point for each event.

[ ] The amount of text I’ve written (fics, metas, song lyrics, poems, whatever) is equal to or greater than the amount of text in the book. Points: [ ] of 6 + [ ] bonus points --- GOD'S FAVORITE-LEVEL [ ] Michael Sheen retweeted you or referenced something of yours in any way. This one is worth 25 lazerii, which is more than all the other points combined. You only need this one checked to have 100% fatal Good Omens brainrot. --- Total points: [ ] of 48 + [ ] bonus points = [ ] points SCORE 1 - 3 points: Why did you take this test? Go do something better with your life, you don't belong here. Enjoy your freedom, the lightness in your heart and the fresh breeze upon your unbothered, youthful face. 3 - 6 points: I bet you still know how to feel happiness. It's still time, you can turn this around. I suggest you just leave this now, and come back whenever you see an ad for season 3. Let yourself be happy in the meantime. 6 - 16 points: You've ventured into dangerous territory, but none of your loved ones have realized you have a problem yet. And you might not... The lines are blurred here. You can still come off as an adjusted person when you talk about the show or anything related to it. 16 - 23 points: A scan of your brain reveals that almost 20% of your prefrontal cortex has rotted away. Friends and family have a negative kneejerk reaction to any mention of Good Omens related subjects. You spend most of your free time on your phone, browsing Good Omens media. The only possible cure at this point, would be a new hyperfixation. 23 - 36 points: 33 % of your total brain volume has been affected. The rot has infected almost every area, and trying to introduce any unrelated hyperfixation causes anxiety, confusion and depression. Doctors are baffled to discover that there is a fungi growing from the rot - it seems to connect with your brain, allowing for an extreme learning curve should you hyperfixate on any subject in any way related to Good Omens. If you ever wanted to read up on Shakespeare, this would be the time to do that. 36 - 48 points: 89% of your brain is affected by rot and mostly replaced by fungi - the only uninfected areas are the reptilian brain (the words 'reptilian brain' reminded you of Crowley) and the medulla, which means it hasn't affected your breathing and your instinctive reactions. You still flinch when cars almost hit you, as you wander aimlessly roadside - lost in thoughts about Good Omens. 48 - ?? points: I'm here if you need to talk. No therapist will understand this without labeling it as a severe breach with reality. (I mean, excuse me - the show is right there on Amazon Prime, it’s real.) The medical field is far behind, years and years will go by before they recognize your diagnosis; 100% fatal Good Omens brainrot. It controls your breathing, your heart rate - everything. This condition is fatal because it lasts until you die, and then you'll have a Good Omens themed funeral. 25 lazerii: How does it feel to be loved by God?

[ohtobeleah]

Secret Sacrifices // Jake Seresin

Chapter One: [Mermaids Don’t Exist]

Summary: Jake continues to plays your knight in shining armour when tensions rise between you and an overly intoxicated patron. Bob brings up a mutual memory.

Warnings: Jake Seresin x F!reader. Witness Protection F!reader. Sexually degrading comments made towards reader. Sexual tension, trauma. Mentions of death & violence.

Word Count: 3.5k

Author Note: Still not writing as much as I once was but I’m getting back into the swing of things. Any comments, thoughts or concepts are welcome!

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Dreams mainly occur when the body falls into a stage of sleep referred to as R.E.M. Rapid eye movement occurs when the brain and body are finally able to completely rest. But that doesn’t necessarily mean that when your body is able to rest, it allows you to do so. 

“We’ll find you, Y/n!” 

Nightmares are typically thought to be an evolutionary conserved trait. Some researchers believe that nightmares provide a rehearsal for life-or-death situations. Before you lived one? You would have said something along the lines of ‘that checks out.’

“No no no no please, Patrick, stay with me—“ 

Some researchers believe nightmares to be a practical experience for many people as it allows the brain to run through multiple different algorithms to find the most desirable strategies, and solutions to often critical and complex situations. 

From a procedural standpoint, simply imagining doing an action can improve your performance.  

“I love you—take Charlie.”

This applies when we simply imagine doing an action such as playing the piano or running for your life after being run off the road, it activates something called a mirror neuron. 

“You have no idea what you’re dealing with here, girly.” 

In theory, the more nightmares you have, the more of those algorithms your brain is able to run, and the more prepared you’re likely to be for the daily struggle of survival. 

But evolution herself is seen by the scientific community more so as a tinkerer than as an inventor. 

“Oh god—please, not my baby, please! Someone! Help us!” 

So, that’s probably why you have the same nightmare over and over and over again every single night. 

Every morning you wake in the same way, with your face pressed into your pillow and your chest sinking into your mattress. Secretly, every morning you wished that your pillow would have suffocated you in your sleep so that today would forever be unobtainable. But you couldn’t do that, no. Not when the only way to bring a sense of worth to your life was to keep putting one foot in front of the other. 

With a groan and a look that spoke volumes to your lack of self-esteem, you rolled onto your back and let out a heavy sigh. Your hands were quick to shield your eyes from the mid-afternoon rays beaming into your bedroom via the slightly cracked windows. 

“Your name is Y/n Y/l/n, you are doing the right thing.”

Guilt and grief aren’t linear emotions. They don’t have a perception of how much time has passed. Realistically it had been three years, six months, and two days since your entire world had been flipped upside down. But every morning, after seeing your husband bleeding to death as he sat pressed against the steering wheel, and having held your five-year-old son in your arms while he took his last breath, the wound was reopened.

And the clock always resets.

“Ah, there she is.” You couldn’t help but hang your head in shame almost. Penny’s glare from behind the bar was as piercing and sharp as it was endearing and playful. Like a woman who took no shit from no one. “You know, you’d think management would be here on time more frequently than whatever the hell this is.” All you could do was take the semi-serious scattering from the owner of the bar you’d been lucky enough to be set up with a pretty good gig at. “Get over here and give me a hand will ya?” 

“Sorry, Penny—” There wasn’t much more you could say to justify yourself. You woke up late, got ready slowly, and got lost in the steam of your mid-afternoon shower as you fought off the existential dread that was your current situation. “Flat tyre,” You shrugged like it wasn’t that big of a deal that you were currently twenty-three minutes late for your shift, “I’ll make it up to you.” 

“Yeah well, you can start by clearing off the table by the piano,” Penny smiled as she nudged her head in the direction of the unruly table of patrons that had surely had far too much to drink. “Think Rick’s had a little more than his liver would care to admit.” 

“Yeah righto,” you sighed as you came behind the bar, doing up your apron as you looked around at the utter mess that had become the place. “I’ll sort him out.” 

North Island wasn’t somewhere you ever saw yourself living, but that was the real kicker in all of this. You didn’t mind the picturesque town with clear blue skies and water that mirrored it. But being the outsider, being the new resident, being the Hard Deck’s newest manager was all some of these people saw you as. Six months in a small Naval town was barely a dint in the years some of these families had been living here. 

“Aw hello, Brewer!” Rick Spencer, the resident rioter, cooed as he beamed your way. For someone in their mid-sixties, he surely went alright. “What brings you in on this fine Saturday afternoon?”

Typical - If you could have, you would have rolled your eyes so far into the back of your head you would have fallen over. Instead, you chose to smile and settle into the nightlife festivities with a can-do attitude and a rather cheeky smile. 

“Came to check on you, Spence? How’s everything over here boys?” It wasn’t uncommon for you to entertain the banter most of the patrons would give you. Most of the locals had caught on quickly that you enjoyed a good laugh every now and again but also knew how to handle your own. 

But there's always one in every group, isn’t there? 

“Would be a hell of a lot better if the barmaid was a little more topless! Right boys!?” A man you hadn’t seen before interrupted before a roar of ‘yeahs’ and agreements were made. Fists and beer bottles along with spirits alike slammed against the tabletop. “Come on girly—” The man continued as you stood there holding the empty bar tray, ready and waiting to collect the empties that littered the table. “Get your kit off.” 

“I don’t think so, boys,” You politely declined the offer of public indecency. “Perhaps in another lifetime.” 

“Sorry about him, Brewer,” Rick explained as he shook his head and stood from his seat at the booth. “My nephew’s here for a few days.”  

“Yeah well, so long as he remembers I run the joint and can have him tossed any time,” You replied sternly. “Keep him in line, Rick.” 

“Oh come on now, sweetheart, I was only joking!” The man you only knew as the nephew chuckled as he overheard your comment. “It’s slim pickings around here anyway, you just look like the best of a bad bunch is all.” 

“Hey!” That voice, that far too familiar voice echoed through the crowd. “You speak to her, or any woman for that matter, like that again? So help me god I’ll punch your teeth right through the back of your skull.” Jake snarled as he came to stand in front of you with his back nearly pressed right into your chest. “Got it!?” The close proximity, the overwhelming aroma of the familiar cologne, and the notes of burnt orange and bourbon made your heart warm. It all had your heart beating against your chest with a force so intense you thought it might break through. 

“Yeah right,” the man only known as the nephew agreed. “Sorry, sweetheart, I’ll get on the waters for a while.” 

“That and a pretty big tip should call us even,” you added with envy conviction laced in your voice that you even had yourself fooled that everything was alright. “Let me just grab these empties for you fellas.” 

You didn’t mess around with it, you simply let the group fall back into their regular chatter as you filled your tray. 

Jake stood with crossed arms a little off to the side, eyeing off all the men who sat idly. Fucking pricks. 

“Been here all of five fucking minutes—” Jake could sense your frustration as you turned into him. At first, he didn’t move, he simply stood there drinking you in as you held the now full tray of dirty glassware. 

“You didn’t have to do that for me,” was all you said. 

With wandering eyes, Jake didn’t miss a single inch of you. 

“I know,” Jake smiled softly as he reached around to lead you back to the bar for a moment to decompress. His hand gently fell to the small of your back as you walked side by side, “I know you’re capable of taking care of yourself, but just because you’re capable? Doesn’t mean you have to go it alone.” 

Alone, that’s all you’d ever been for the last three years. 

“Yeah, yeah I guess you’re right,” the sigh that left your body allowed your shoulders to relax as you placed the tray onto the bar and slid it over for Penny to take. “Thanks, Jake, I owe you one.” 

Jake Seresin had never been the kind of guy who saw himself settling down. But when he first saw you, that thought hadn’t left his mind. 

“Name a time and place,” Jake teased as he sent you a wink. It didn’t take Jake long to find himself at home up by the bar, perched on one of the bar stools as he entertained his favourite bartender. “I’ve always wondered what our first date would be like.” 

“Do I look like I came down in the last shower, Seresin?” You knew Jake had a thing for you, it wasn’t all that hard to put together. But it could never work, not in a million years. Not when you were playing pretend on a professional basis.

“What’s that even mean?” Jake asked as he leaned his elbows on top of the bar, grinning ear to ear as he pressed your buttons more. 

“It means—“ You cooed as you leaned into his space, making it known that the flirting was welcome, but the end goal wasn’t in sight. “I know you’re just trying to get in my pants.” 

“Pretty good-looking set of pants if I do say so myself,” Jake teased as his eyes trailed down the expanse of your body, then back up. Those emerald cities of his were full of complex wonder and undoubtable loyalty. Something you could never give back. “But despite the fact I think you’re pants would look a hell of a lot better in a pile on my bedroom floor, I’m not just doing any of this for a chance to, well, you know what I mean.” 

You did know what Jake meant, and for all intents and purposes you could admit to yourself that it sounded very tempting. But you knew what the repercussions would be.

“Jake, that’s all very sweet of you,” you felt as if you had this very conversation every week. The gentle let down. The kind-ish conversation where you reminded the overly-confident and somewhat self-assured Aviator that you weren’t looking for love or lust, or anything. Besides, there were already too many people looking for you. “But you know, as much as I think you’re a good guy and friend, I’m not interested.” 

Jake stood silently before you, drinking in all that was you. From the lines etched into your forehead to the small scar that ran through your left eyebrow. He wasn’t listening, there was just something about you. Something so intriguing that he couldn’t stop trying to win you over. He couldn’t stop trying to get you to give him just one chance. One chance was all Jake wanted to convince you he wasn’t everything he knew people had told you he was. 

“What would you say if I asked you to–” Before Jake had a chance to finish his question, the echoing sound of a glass shattering into smitherings against the wooden flooring, interrupted his train of thought. 

“OOOIII– TAXI!” It was almost as if all the patrons, besides Jake that was, had all congealed into one as they yelled shouted and cheered towards the man who had dropped his glass. With a heavy sigh and a quick roll of the eyes, you knew you would be the one who ultimately had to clear the mess. 

“I should probably get back to work.” The silence that came from Jake was deafening as you pulled away from where you had been standing far too close to a man you thought you didn’t want. A man you couldn’t have even if deep down you really wanted. Life was unfair like that. You couldn’t have anything you wanted, anything you loved. Anything that made you happy in the smallest of ways. 

“There’s really no chance of getting you to agree to just one date, is there Brewer?” Jake watched as you made your over to where you kept the cleaning supplies in a small section behind the bar. 

“If you already know that then why do you constantly make such an effort?” It was the look on your face that told Jake everything he needed to know. There was no chance in hell he was ever getting that date. 

But Jake Seresin never gave up without a fight, and he sure as hell wasn’t about to now. 

“Because you gentled me, Brewer,” Jake Seresin had never been the type of person who wanted to settle down. He was always so content with the relations he chose to have and the way he chose to have them. Short simple quick flings. Girlfriends who lasted no longer than a year and one-night stands he’d promise to call but never got their numbers. But then there was you. “No one’s ever done that before.” 

“Please don’t put that on my shoulders, Jake,” You weren't sure how to respond to that, how to process that kind of admission. “Just lay off the heroics for a while alright? I don’t want people getting the wrong impression.” 

“That impression would be?” Jake questioned like you’d just insulted his very being. That it would be a crime to love him. 

“Jake, I have a job to do alright,” It wasn’t that you were angry or upset that Jake cared for and about you. It was more frustration on your part for not being able to act on your own feelings towards him. It had been three years since your husband died. Three years since you felt the loving embrace of another human being. That alone was enough to frustrate anyone. “Please, just–just, I need to get back to work.” 

The thing about nightmares is that they often don’t stick to their own parameters. Sometimes, you end up living a nightmare more often than you dream one. Right now? As Jake looked at you like you’d just shot him through the heart, you knew you were wide awake. Living a nightmare that continued to punish only the good. 

“You’re untouchable,” Jake sighed to himself softly as he shook his head in defeat. “The untouchable woman who won’t let anyone in, you’re too proud or something aren’t you?” 

“It’s just–” All you wanted to do was explain yourself, pull Jake aside and let him in on why you couldn’t allow him to love you the way you wanted him to. But no words came out as you stood there holding the old dustpan by your side. 

With every blink, you saw flashes of Patrick. The love you lost too soon, too suddenly. He made sure to haunt your dreams to keep you safe. For a brief second of all-consuming anguish, you saw him too. Standing right behind Jake, warning you not to. “I need to get back to work, I’m sorry.” 

“Right,” Jake clenched his jaw when he felt the word vomit about to spew from his lips. He wasn’t mad, rejection just wasn’t something he was familiar with. “When you get a chance, put a Budweiser on Bradshaw’s tab.” Jake pressed his lips together into a fine line of regret, instantly kicking himself for pushing. He knew he shouldn’t have, but the chase was as addicting as it was thrilling. With a simple knock of his knuckles on the bar before, he turned on his heels. Leaving you to stand there in your own self-loathing. 

Your heart sank as you watched Jake shove his hands into the pockets of his jeans with a head that hung so low you almost wondered if his neck would be sore. Guilt, shame, it all felt the same. But you couldn’t let Jake in, you couldn’t allow him into your life more than what you’d given him over the last six months. 

You’d tangled yourself in barbed wire so you couldn’t be reached by anyone. Unknowingly bleeding when as it digs into you more and more. You would think the touch of skin on yours wouldn’t be so terrifying, but you’d been bruised before. You couldn’t allow Jake to fall into your web of lies that kept you safe from harm’s way. If hurting him was the only way to keep him safe, you’d hurt him twice over every single day.

Perhaps it would be safer to stay the untouchable woman. 

***~***~***~***~***~****

As a child, there was magic in the mundane. You often found yourself missing the mermaids among the koi in the pond, their glittering scales reminiscent of a childhood fairytale. Summer mornings you’d make bouquets out of the same flowers adults would now mow away while wrinkling their noses at the weeds. 

You often wondered to yourself when the awe of the day-to-day faded away and when you stopped believing in your ability to see mermaids in the momentous world around you. 

“Another round fellas?” You tried not to think too much about the way Jake’s eyes burned into you like a fiery sunbeam as you stood behind Rooster. “Same old same old? The usual orders of Bradshaw’s table?” The squad, affectionately known as the Daggers erupted into laughter all the while Rooster remained silent and brooding. 

“You are all bleeding my dry,” Bradley sighed as you made the rounds and collected all the empties onto your bar tray. “Seriously, I know you aren’t all working for free, cough up.” 

“You could– just apologise for being a Neanderthal and I’ll close it out?” Your statement left a bad taste in Rooster’s mouth, he wasn’t one for apologising for things he didn’t think he’d done wrong. 

“I could,” the brooding moustache-having man replied. “But it’d be an empty lie.” There was something about Bradley Bradshaw that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand to attention. He wasn’t necessarily a bad person, he was–an only child. He probably never imagined mermaids among the koi.  

“Appreciate the honesty there, Bradshaw,” you chuckled deeply as you finished you collecting all the empty glasses and beer bottles. “Guess the next rounds on you.” 

“Here here,” Coyote chimed in with a Cheshire Cat grin. “All in a hard day’s work there Rooster, you always know how to piss off the barkeep.” 

“Works out in our favour,” Bob smiled as he passed you two empty glasses. “I don’t think I’ve paid for a drink of my own in a few weeks now.” 

“No, you just keep trying to convince everyone Brewer here was your first kiss,” Phoenix smirked as she finished off her beer. 

All the air inside your lungs felt like they had been sucked right out. The chills that ran down the expanse of your spine made your blood run cold. You stood tall with your now full tray of old beer bottles and empty glasses and sent a polite smile Bob’s way. 

“You still riding that wave?” 

“You just really look like Y/n from Nurellun Public,” Bob countered with an almost pleading tone. “She was my first kiss by the sandpit and I remember she had a little yellow dot in her right eye.” 

“Brewer has a yellow dot in her right eye,” Jake decided to enter the conversation from his place in the corner of the booth. “Tell you what Floyd, you must have been one shocking kisser if you got Brewer here to change her damn name.” The table erupted into a loud boisterous laugh as the Weapons System Officer sunk a little lower into his seat. 

You felt for Bob, being the butt of the joke was never a good feeling. But when your case officer relocated you to North Island, he didn’t bank on one of its locals being your first snog. You hated gaslighting the guy, but you had no other choice. Bob Floyd had to stay in the era of Meridamis and weed bouquets. 

“Like I told you last time Bob, you’ve got the wrong girl,” It was as nonchalant as it was dismissive. “My first kiss was with Johnny Bennett out at some random guys shed.” You had gotten used to lying about your life and who you were. At the very beginning it was almost impossible, but three years on? You’d gotten pretty good at playing pretend. 

Only you wished it could be with the mermaids in their fairytales. But much like all those mermaids and all those fairytale stories……you didn’t exist. Much like Johnny Bennett.  

***~***~***~***~***~ 

Tags: 🏷️ @a-reader-and-a-writer @xoxabs88xox @hiireadstuff @buckysteveloki-me @athenabarnes @els-marvelvsp @blindedbythelightt @tayl0rhuynh @na-ta-sh-aa @kmc1989 @sunlightmurdock @mamachasesmayhem @jaxfart @lauenderhaze @sugarcoated-lame @maisie-rebloging-blog @captainmoonknight @seitmai @shanimallina87 @kajjaka @imnotcreativeenoughforthisblog @imladrisofabookdragon @buckysteveloki-me @mrsevans90 @allepaula @els-marvelvsp @djs8891 @paperbag33

[moodymisty]

The words “blood hungry Sanguinius” in your announcement post activated all of my neurons at once. Anyway request time, lemme lay the scene. Sanguinius is in an established relationship, she’s a diplomat or his seneschal, somebody of great importance to him both personally and professionally. The planet they’re currently Crusading™ has put up enough of a fight to be troublesome but peace talks are finally happening, which our dear angel’s beloved is the head of. Except not everybody wants peace. Sanguinius has been waging war on this planet, not everybody is gonna be a fan but people also aren’t stupid enough to just pick a direct fight with the 10ft tall dude who could chuck a spear into space. So they aim smaller, where they know it’ll still hurt. An assassination attempt is made on his beloved. It fails, mind you, but it was too close for comfort. She was hurt and suddenly the great angel isn’t feeling so angelic. He wants cathartic visceral payback and his sons couldn’t agree more. Now that kind of adrenaline-fueled murder rampage will get anybody’s blood pumping so once he gets back he’s headed straight for their room. Obviously he’s relieved that she’s fine, patched up and everything at this point but she still smells like blood and sweat and he just desperately needs to know she’s okay. Needs to hear her voice crying out for him rather than in pain, feel her pulse against his lips. Needs to lick the blood off her. It’s precious after all, he’d hate for it to go to waste (and crucially of course he has to erase the traces of that attack, only he is allowed to draw blood from his beloved, nobody else gets to do that and live)

Do with these brain worms what you will, Misty. Go nuts ❤️

[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕬𝖔3 ]

Author’s note: Thank you for the fucking FOOD, friend. I hope you enjoy it, I tweaked a tiny bit just to make it flow better in my head because it was going to keep getting longer if I didn’t stop send help

Relationships: Sanguinius/Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, semi-graphic depictions of violence in the beginning, Blood drinking/licking/vampirey stuff, fingering, If you squinted you could consider this dubious consent because making out after a near death experience probably isn’t the best trauma response but it’s 40k so whatever, Slightly Yandere Sanguinus also to be honest

Sanguinus lets his perfect veneer fade for a moment, as he drifts off into thought. Tactical planning and logistics fade into the background, but Sanguinus can still comprehend it all and join back in a moment without anyone noticing.

She’s asleep right now, oh how I wish I could join her.

After a tense few weeks of failed diplomacy and eventual war, you needed rest; While Sanguinus needs such a thing much more rarely, he still wishes to join you. This whole debacle has been little more than aggravating to him.

While he is used to waging war like this, he knows you took this failed diplomacy as a failure for yourself. You’re still new to this, he knows it’ll fade with time but he wishes he could at least comfort you for a little while.

Though, this whole crusade has been less than what you all expected. Fierce electrical storms have made teleporting or even using Thunderhawks or smaller landers from the Red Tear to planet-side dangerous, so they’ve set up temporary base on solid ground while the war effort continues.

He hates the feeling of it; The nature of it being less secure. He knows you’re surrounded by Astartes, but these walls are old and they don’t know the landscape, or if this old fortress has anywhere to hide. This isn't their home territory, the safety of the cold, metal walls of the Red Tear and it's sister ship-

The door suddenly barges open, and in rush two blood Angels who's armor screeches as they freeze to a halt. It manages to startle Sanguinius somewhat, as his wings shift close to his body.

“Lord Sanguinus! Someone is attacking Our Lady!”

The sentence brings him to high alert even before they finish speaking and he’s already pushing past them to make his way towards you. He barely even notices the title they used for you, one that has only been said a handful of times as they slowly became used to your presence beside him.

Sanguinus is out of his armor at the moment, a rare time for him to stretch his wings and back after being in it for nearly a week straight, and the lessened weight makes his strides even faster as he races to you. His wings are tight to his body to avoid hitting anything or catching drag, and he hears the sound of bolters and ceramite plates crashing into weaker armor. He had them guarding the room at all hours, and as such was able to get alerted to the assassins- he assumes by their dark regalia and deftness- instantly.

“I want at least one alive! I want to know how they got past our perimeter!”

The first intruder he catches sight of has their shoulder blown away by a bolter shell before they could comprehend Sanguinus’ orders, and the second gets grabbed by an Astartes and yells in pain at the audible crack of bone. The third Sanguinus notices behind him and he batters him with the end of his wing, and an Astartes manages to obtain him by grabbing his neck. No matter how skilled they were, they stand absolutely no match to his sons. Even their advantage of surprise offered them nothing in the end.

Sanguinius eventually snags the last one and hands the wretch to his sons, and the lot are carried away.

They might be alive now, but once Sanguinus gets what he wants from them, they’ll wish they weren’t. Especially after he looks towards you.

Your sitting on the floor leaned against the wall, arms tight to yourself. He can see your thin nightdress is stained with blood at the neckline, and your arms also have small bits of blood. Your cheek has a small gash that’s growing a bruise around it, like it’s from a punch or slap.

You have an Astartes combat knife in your hands, blood soaking the blade. He knows you put up a fight despite the odds. It was probably you that alerted his sons.

He can hear them communicating amongst themselves, making sure the room and perimeter are clear. The assassins are removed and will probably get prodded around in by a curious techpriest in the future. He knew that a forward base such as this was a dangerous idea, and this only further cements it. Despite the meteorological issues.

Though his thoughts are on less immediate things, now that he knows you’re safe. His clears his throat slightly but the motion does nothing to distract him.

Something Sanguinius had learned in his younger years was that all blood is different; In taste, smell. Some of it is superior to others in those ways.

As while the room is soaked in blood, he can only smell yours.

“All of you check everywhere for any others. Leave us alone unless I call.”

The Blood Angels present hesitate to move, and their lieutenant speaks why. His helmet rests in his hands.

“Should we not stay to keep you both-“ Sanguinus turns to him and his voice is firm and unwavering.

“Go.”

The captain almost seems surprised, before placing his helmet back on. His men dip their heads for a moment and leave, closing the door and leaving the two of you alone.

The Primarch comes closer, lowering to his knee in front of you.

“You’re not hurt?” His hands grasp your shoulders, and you shake your head.

“No. Not badly enough to complain about at least.” Sanguinus lets out an audible sigh of relief.

He moves to let you stand, offering a hand you take for a moment. You move away to look into a mirror and splash some water on your face, wiping the blood away from it. It does nothing to cut the scent overwhelming the air that only he can parse.

“I’ve sent them to figure out how those men got in, and if there’s more.” You look up at him, before bending down to pick up one of his fallen feathers. He lost a few in the battle, as he does all the time. The Red Tear also has many strewn about in the places he frequents. You hold it in your hand and brush along the quill shaft, smoothing it. It’s a habit you’ve developed.

“Shouldn’t you go with them?” Sanguinus furrows his brow, confused.

“I want to stay with you, so I know you’re safe. And that you feel safe.”

The way you look up at him is worried; What could you possibly be worried about right now besides yourself? You were the one who was almost killed, because he was ignorant enough to bring you here, selfish because of his desire to keep you at his side. He kneels close to you, and tries to hold his breath as his mouth waters.

“What is it, my love?”

You look at him and continue holding his feather, seeing the way his eyes leer at you. You’ve seen it before, and it’s obvious why.

“Sanguinus, you’re hungry.”

How well you already know him, even after such a short period of time.

He gently cups a hand to the side of your face, before leaning inward.

“I’m sorry my love, I can’t help it, you’re like my own personal wine.”

His lips brush across your own, and he can suddenly taste the tiny droplet of blood from where your lip had split. You eagerly return his kiss and the desperation has you gripping him like a lifeline, as if your mind is finally catching up with what’s happened. He eagerly holds you back, his massive hands cupping your waist and swallowing most of it.

Before you know it, he has you in his arms, and he gently drops you onto the bed. It creaks and groans under the weight of him, but you’re little more than a feather to it.

He can see the cut across your collarbone; They must’ve tried to put a knife to your throat, and cut along below it instead. Your heart beat rushes just underneath it.

“Let me help you forget all of this ever happened,”

He whispers, half lost on the smell of your blood. You still feel almost stunned, like everything is a dream, but you’d never refuse him with how safe you always feel in his arms.

Sanguinus’ hands drift up your nightdress until it’s off of you, the stained fabric getting tossed aside.

He leans down to drag his lips along the cut of your collarbone, tongue sweeping away any traces of blood. The droplets that ran down your sternum get wisked away as well, his tongue traveling between your breasts.

He would hate to see it be wasted. The ones who spilled it and attempted to do worse will spill their secrets, and suffer for what they’ve done.

He’ll keep his head turned if they end up bloodless as well. His sons can sate their appetites on them and he’ll mind little.

Meanwhile you writhe underneath him, a hand on your shoulder holding you down while the other presses down close to your hip. Your free hand grasps at him, nails digging into his skin. He hears you saying his name, whispering it like a prayer, but he can barely hear it over the sound of your heart in his ears.

He can stay under control, but that doesn’t mean that you don’t test his willpower.

He loves to call you his wine; Though in some ways it’s almost as if you’re a drug he can never allow himself to have too much of, lest he get lost in it.

His left hand drifts closer and brushes over your hip, his massive palm dwarfing your smaller body. His fingers push between your thighs with ease, and he slips his fingers into your folds and hears the way you whimper at the soft touch. It isn’t long before they press against your entrance and slowly he teases one inside, before slipping in another once he’s readied you enough for it.

He feels the heat of your body as he presses his hand against you, all the while his face never leaves your neck. It’s an awkward angle for him at his overwhelming height, but he makes it work. His teeth ever so gently scrape across the pulsing vein of your neck where old scars from him lie, and he feels the way you shiver.

His fingers curl inside of you as his lips press hard against your neck, tasting every last little bit of blood until your skin is clear apart from the thin sliver of red.

He leans away and presses his lips to yours again, catching your bottom lip between his own. The cut on your lip had just stopped bleeding but his rougher kiss aggregates it enough to make it bleed just a tiny bit more, and you moan into his mouth as he tastes it.

Your hand desperately grasps at his own pressing against your shoulder, trying to grip his fingers and keep you grounded. He loves the way you writhe underneath him, earlier events completely forgotten.

He pulls way from your lips with a soft pop and his hot breath returns to your neck.

He wants to bite it so badly. It’s tormenting him, eating at him. But then he feels when he finally reach your peak, tightening around him and crying out to him in pleasure and not pain. It’s like music to his ears, after hearing your heart race so much in fear barely hours ago. To hear you call his name not to save you but to have him make you feel like this.

He pulls his lips away from your neck as you catch your breath. Another time.

His wings droop slightly, though even folded they take up so much space, shadowing so much more than just your body. They drop even more, and it almost feels like he’s trying to surround you with them and his body.

He gently pulls his hand from your folds but you feel his finger brush against your inner thigh, and the corners of his mouth twitch as you shiver and tense.

“I will never allow your life to ever be threatened again,”

He says, a part inside of him fuming at the fact it happened to begin with. He shouldn’t have been so presumptuous, careless, though deeper down he knows he did everything he could. He’ll do more now. His sons are becoming used to you, accepting of you, they’ll do it with no complaints.

You look up at him with soft, shining skin; Lips swollen. He wishes he could stay for longer, and take advantage of his time without his armor.

“Just don’t worry yourself into dropping feathers,” You joke and smile, voice slightly hoarse. He can still hear your heartbeat racing in his ears, but it’s calming down as you lay underneath him.

Sanguinus laughs and presses a kiss to the tip of your nose. He swallows down his only partly sated hunger for another time.

“I’ll try not to.”