#and they will show you absolutely no mercy

[sagesskies]

ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴅᴇɪᴛʏ

✒ ᴄᴜᴘɪᴅ ᴍɪꜱꜱᴇᴅ ʜɪꜱ ꜱʜᴏᴛ

ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇꜱ: ᴏʙꜱᴇꜱꜱɪᴠᴇ ʙᴇʜᴀᴠɪᴏʀ, ꜱᴛᴀʟᴋɪɴɢ (ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴡᴀᴛᴄʜ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴀ ꜱᴄʀʏɪɴɢ ʙᴏᴡʟ), ᴍᴀᴊᴏʀ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ, ᴜʜ. ʀᴀᴄɪꜱᴍ (ᴛʜɪꜱ ɢᴏᴅ ʟᴏᴏᴋꜱ ᴅᴏᴡɴ ᴏɴ ᴍᴏʀᴛᴀʟꜱ!), ᴇxᴘʟɪᴄɪᴛ ɢᴏʀᴇ, ᴍᴜʀᴅᴇʀ, ʀᴇʟɪɢɪᴏɴ, ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴡᴀʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ, ᴇxᴘʟɪᴄɪᴛ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ, Qʜᴇᴛᴏʜʀ ᴊᴜᴍᴘꜱᴄᴀʀᴇ, [ɴᴀᴍᴇ] ɪꜱ ᴀ ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ ꜱᴀᴄʀɪꜰɪᴄᴇ, ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍᴇ ɪꜰ ɪ ᴍɪꜱꜱᴇᴅ ᴀɴʏ!

Yandere Love Deity whose temple you grew up in; Intricate paintings and marble sculptures depicting their ethereal figure surrounding you as the years pass and you go from being one of the children raised within the temple’s immaculate halls, to the most devoted priest serving Luvarin. 

You firmly believe that love goes beyond just romance, the love between two partners in union, but extends to a love that matters just as much; the love between family, between friends, or even the simple love for your neighbour. It shows in how you preach, emphasising the importance of that connection and teaching the children that just as they should pursue the kind of love depicted in the sacred partnerships of the Gods, they should search for the love between two great friends, like that of the Merciful One and his sibling Qhetohr. 

Yandere Love Deity who hears your name in only a few months after your induction into priesthood. But really, they took notice of your presence before that. It was hard not to. Not when your offerings were always of the highest quality: Intricate carvings of sparrows, wines brewed with the strawberries grown in the temple, and not to mention the hymns you sang and wrote for them which were always a delight to listen to. 

But what really drew them to your offerings was not merely the quality, no, no, they had no shortage of extravagant offerings from their wealthy followers. It was the fact that you had taken the time to create them yourself. Now, handcrafted gifts weren’t uncommon either, but really it was the dedication. To truly devote yourself to creating such impeccable displays of faith… why, it was enough to make their heart flutter. And that was no small feat. Luvarin decides that it’s high time that they reward you. 

It’s small at first. Little things that build progressively till you realise that life has been treating you suspiciously too well recently. Your recently published text debating the moral lesson one should take from the fall of the house of Arus has taken off to unforeseen heights. You’ve been promoted in the temple. You managed to avoid getting hit by a vase dropped right on top of you, unintentionally of course, because it somehow, miraculously, got blown away by the wind. 

Yandere Love Deity, who is of course, the one responsible for it all. It’s almost like you know that, because your prayers become more intimate and personal. Truly grateful for everything Luvarin is doing for you– Well you don’t exactly address it to Luvarin, you’re praying to the Gods in general, but still. They’re the reason why you’re so lucky in the first place, and hearing you passionately thanking them so genuinely, is enough to have them giggle and kick their feet with absolute delight. 

‘O Children of Kases, hear my call, I offer you my deepest gratitude, for the countless blessings you bestow upon my path, For the love that surrounds me, both seen and unseen, for the beauty of the world and the kindness of hearts.

Thank you for the lessons, both gentle and harsh, that shape me, mold me, and help me grow. For the strength to overcome challenges, And the wisdom to see the truth within. 

In the quiet whisper of the leaves, In the gentle glow of the moon, I feel your essence, ever near, Guiding me, loving me, holding me….’

Laying in the fluffy, warm, and comfortable surface of their bed, Luvarin sighs. Truly, they were amazing. They’re aware that your prayer is not just for them, but for all their siblings as well, but sheesh, who were they kidding? Of course, this prayer was meant for them! Who else has been aiding you so much? Giving you such powerful blessings and bountiful gifts, their merciful brother had competition!

Luvarin sits up, and summons their scrying bowl. It was a new one that they haven’t used yet, it was a gift from you, one of your beautiful wood carvings. 

They don’t usually like using wood in their equipment, it was for commoner mortals. But this bowl was of a perfect shape, the width was of their exact preference, it wasn’t flimsy and easily scratched or damaged, and it was designed with carved drawings of myths that centred around Luvarin themself. 

Seriously, how lucky could they be, to have a follower as devoted and as considerate with his offerings as you are. Compared to the rough and unpolished quality of the mere commoners and the superficial and needlessly gaudy level the nobles reached, yours were a breath of fresh air in how much care was placed into them. 

Thinking about it is enough for Luvarin's already present smile to widen further.

Luvarin waves their hand in a delicate flourish, and the bowl fills itself with a clear, mystical water, the surface shimmering with images of the activity below the heavens. They press one tawny finger, and it pauses. 

Their brow furrows in concentration, Luvarin purses their lip, and close their eyes as they search for your presence. 

“Aha!” There you are darling.

Luvarin's eyes open, gleaming purple, and they clap their hands with delight as the water morphs to show them the familiar sight of your room in the temple. The bed on the right, blanket strewn haphazardly on the soft mattress. Your desk is on the left covered in the drafts for your latest text. Then there's you, on your knees in front of the window, hands held in prayerful position, head bowed submissively and your eyes closed in concentration. The moonlight pouring in and shining down on you.

Despite being one of Kases’ powerful children, a literal god, Luvarin was a mere afterthought to the mortals. Unlike mighty Uren, or their fearsome twin Qhetohr, why should one concern themself with the deity of Love for anything more than matters of romance? They were a joke in the Heavens, mortals literally painted them as a cherub with a pathetically small bow and a heart tipped arrow. 

Not to mention that a lot of their priests were nothing better than scammers who tricked desperate and lonely people and naive mortals who believed that serving in Luvarin's temple could give them luck in their love life. 

But, then there was you. [Name]. Sweet, genuine [Name]. 

Luvarin traces their finger around your face, enjoying each and every detail. Sometimes, when they watch you, from the scrying bowl or in the form of a sparrow, they have the desire to just reach out and touch you. To truly feel the warmth that you radiated. To know that you're real, and not just something that their mind has come up with. 

A wisp blows in. Luvarin clicks their tongue, less than pleased about the interruption. They snatch it out of the air, it wiggles and tries to escape from their grasp, but eventually it tires. 

“Speak,” Luvarin drawls, tapping on their leg impatiently. 

Wisps, little creatures born from the mist of the Jaurdenia River and used by Luvarin and their siblings as messengers. Round, bouncy, balls of wind that glowed far too brightly for Luvarin's keen eyes. They were cute and Luvarin loved to throw them around their palace and watch them zip and crash into the walls, but right now it was [Name] time, and [Name] time was as sacred to them as the annual Luvercalia ritual. 

The wisp squirms a bit, their golden centre glowing darker in concentration, before relaxing as the honey-like smoke pours out of it. The whispers of their merciful brother carried by the fumes, “Luvarin, please do know that I will be visiting you soon to discuss some matters.” 

Luvarin groans, frustration rolling off of them in waves. They loved their merciful brother. Really who didn't? But they'd much rather get back to watching you from the scrying bowl and listening to you sing their praises. 

However deep down Luvarin knows that if they were to not show up, then he would worry and tell Qhetohr to check on them, and then Qhetohr would find about you and then– 

To the deepest pits of Demorta, why are they dreading the mere idea of Qhetohr discovering you? Their beautiful, precious, fragile mortal. Oh, it's precisely because of that. You're mortal, you're fragile, and Qhetohr would delight in absolutely tearing you to shreds if they found out you're the reason why Luvarin stood up their merciful brother. 

Luvarin gnashed their teeth, their hand squeezed the wisp so tightly in their stress, they're snapped out of their furious thoughts by a sharp pop and the cool mist that seeps through their closed fist; the remains of the unfortunate wisp. 

Fine. Fine! If that is what must be done to keep you a secret, safe from Qhetohr’s blade. Then they'll do it. 

Luvarin waves away the scrying bowl, and with a flourish of their hand, a regal purple chlamys settles over their shoulders and they rub at the cool, golden brooch holding it in place. 

Their steps echo through the lavish, empty halls of their palace. A bird flies through the nearby garden, sunlight seeping in through the gaps between the chiselled pillar, and the smell of rain-soaked leaves pervades the air. Last night they forgot to renew the barriers that prevented the rain from getting in. Usually they would just flick their wrist to get the job done, but they were watching you work away at your latest text on Uren's Rebellion. 

Luvarin halts as a realisation dawns on them. When did they start to care for you? If they paused and took a look at the situation, it was strange. It shouldn’t even be possible. 

Them, a Love God. Twin to Destruction and Insanity themself. One of Kases’ powerful children. A literal living legend, responsible for the Fall of the House of Arus. And here they are, pouring their time and attention into a simple priest, their very own servant, and practically mooning over him instead of doing literally anything else. 

Before they can ponder further on this topic, a familiar figure enters their view. He waves, and flashes them a smile that Qhetohr would kill to keep for themself. Luvarin beams, pretty portrait perfect smile reserved for greeting guests and people they would rather not deal with at the current moment. 

They’ll deal with you later. They have all the time in the world, after all. 

Yandere Love Deity who starts to fall in love with you. They would like to say that it’s a slow and gradual process. But honestly, it’s not. It’s humiliating how quickly it all happens. One day they’re watching you writing your newest text, one moment you’re pondering your next sentence, then your eyes light up with a brilliant idea and Luvarin can’t help but genuinely smile, because they’re happy for you, for your breakthrough, because it’s something that you wanted, and what you want they want you to get and when that thought pops into their head that’s when they realise what the burning flame in their heart actually is. 

Yandere Love Deity who has had mortal lovers. They were all the same; Bold, filthy little creatures full of hubris that thought they could surpass the children of Kases. Luvarin’s infatuation with them never lasted long, they weren't meant to. They were all only mortal after all. And they completely expect the same to be true with you. Yes, they know what they’re feeling is love, but really what is the difference between loving something and desiring it?

So they descend to earth in human form, ready to charm you, have a bit of fun, and then leave like it’s nothing. It should be easy, right? 

Yandere Love Deity who disguises themself as a wandering traveller, settling into the town for a short while. After all, Luvercalia is coming soon, what traveler wouldn't want to take this opportunity to partake in the festival right in the town that Luvarin had once used as their base of operations during the rebellion? Mortals were weird, but they get it. To witness the sacred ritual dedicated to Luvarin take place on the very soil their holy blood was once spilled on, any god worshipping mortal worth their salt would not hesitate to take this opportunity. They are simply as one would say, blending in with the locals. 

Yandere Love Deity whose first meeting with you is not like what they imagined at first. They imagined that they'd charm you first, then they would sweep you off of your feet and seduce you into breaking your vow of chastity, pardon you from whatever punishment they dished out nowadays and then leave. 

Yandere Love Deity who barely even  gets to say since you're running through the town, making preparations for the upcoming Luvercalia festival and the ritual. Instead of a proper introduction where the two of you exchange pleasantries and get to know each other, all you get to say is: “Ah, hello traveler. Please, make yourself welcome here.” Before being pulled away to select a sparrow to sacrifice for the ritual.

But then they manage to catch you in your downtime, and you look at them for a moment as if you're trying to figure out where you've seen them before, and then you snap your fingers and you smile, your eyes creasing and wrinkling a bit at the edges and you apologize for not getting to introduce yourself properly earlier, but you remember them. You remember them even if they were probably nothing more than just one nameless face in your hectic day, and that… for some reason the mere fact that they were still important enough for you to remember amidst everything else that was going on, it just… 

Yandere Love Deity who isn’t prepared for how you make them feel. Holy.. the way you have their heart racing has them thinking you are the one who’s the god of love here, and they’re the one who should be worshipping you and singing your praises. Just seeing your smile has them weak in the knees. It shouldn’t be possible, you’re just some mortal destined to die out and fade away while they are a literal God, who has seen kingdoms and empires fall and rise in what to you is centuries, but to them is merely a small drop of water in the vast ocean of their existence. 

Yandere Love Deity, who still thinks that they can get out of this. Just like their destructive twin, they’re as stubborn as a mule. An immovable object that refuses to budge no matter how hard you push them. 

Yandere Love Deity who changes their mind so quickly it’s embarrassing. They try to distance themselves from you and pull themself out of whatever hold you have on them, but each and every attempt is foiled, not even on purpose, by you. You and your natural charms that has them caught, hook line and sinker. How can they not fall deeper in their love for you when you make it so easy to just descend deeper? 

Yandere Love Deity who continues to interact with you in mortal form. Slowly they become as much of a daily fixture in your life as you are in theirs, and they can't be more pleased about it. However their joy is short-lived when their greatest fear comes true; Qhetohr finds out. 

Cruel, wicked Qhetohr. Obsidian eyes curling with a malicious delight as they remind Luvarin that though beings such as them, deities, will continue to exist even when they will be forgotten and turn from reality to mere myth, that you will return to the dust and dirt that Uren used to mould your kind into shape.

Yandere Love Deity who comes to the realisation that a life without you is no life at all. And so they waste no time in ordering the clouds to part, for the sun to shine down right in front of you, and then descend down to you in their godly form, their entrance announced by pale rose petals gently floating down from the heavens.

Yandere Love Deity who does everything properly. They had a ring forged by Ularus, encrusted with small, absolutely dazzling rubies. They've wrapped it in a pure white cloth, with sparrows and roses embroidered into it. 

They get down on one knee and unveil the ring, and say those four famous words. 

“Will you marry me?”

Your eyes are wide and your mouth is gaping. Clearly you're shocked. They understand. You've just learned that sly, mischievous Erasmus is the very God you worship, serve, and mention in each prayer— and now they're proposing to you! It would be mind blowing for any mortal. 

But they let you calm down and process everything, they're patient like that, and they wait with bated breath and an eager grin for your response and the words that leave your lips are–

“I– Forgive me, Lord,” You take a shaky step back, your eyes dart around– People are staring– you purse your lips, “But I cannot accept your proposal. You're a god and I'm a mortal and it just– It won't work!”

“[Name], darling, please,” Luvarin laughs, clearly you're not thinking straight, still in shock they suppose, “In all the years that I have walked this earth, I have had many, and I am not joking when I say many, lovers. And many were just like you my love: Mortal. With crimson blood running through their veins and fragile bodies doomed to age.” 

They stand up and reach for your hand. You flinch and try to pull away, and even if their heart twinges, they soften their smile– Remember Luvarin, mortals are sensitive creatures. Be patient– and grip it tighter. 

You wince and they swear they can feel a phantom around their own hand in response.

Luvarin slips the ring on your finger. They wrap an arm around your waist, they ignore how you whimper and the fear in your eyes, and they bring you closer. 

“But you… darling, you are special. Compared to all those shallow creatures, your soul is vast, as wide as the earth, and the only one able to captivate me in the way that only you are uniquely capable of.”

“None of them can compare to you. Nobody can,” Luvarin can feel you shaking as they press a kiss to your temple, “And that is why I want– no need to marry you. I need you in my life [Name], and it's because you're mortal that we need to get married as soon as possible.”

You push them away, and this time they let you just so they can see the look on your face. 

Your brows are knit, and your lip is stiff. They've never seen this expression on you before. But they've seen it on Uren. On their merciful brother. On countless other gods and mortals through the ages. 

It was an expression that told Luvarin that they were about to hear something they didn't want to hear. 

Yandere Love Deity who thinks that you made an attempt to be gentle in your rejection, at least at first. But then it was their persistence that got to you. 

They saw glimpses of it in their time masquerading as a mortal. Your anger. It simmered underneath your skin and has been burning since you were young and pure. 

Their merciful brother told them, he knew you before when you barely reached their mortal form's waist, that you came from a pagan land. A land that was ransacked and pillaged and absorbed into Uren’s ruling. You came in, resentful and bitter with no desire to listen and obey to the people who killed your family. 

They know that you don't like the gods. Even now that you're a priest. But they thought that they were an exception, you got to know them as not a god after all, as Erasmus and not as Luvarin. 

Yandere Love Deity who is met with your frigid glare and… Gods, they can't bring themselves to remember the words you wielded like sharp blades. All they remember you telling them before they allow themselves to be swept away by the wind is that they should find another god to marry instead

Yandere Love Deity who weeps with such force that the skies turn grey, the oceans crash and churn, and the wind blows so violently it's nearly enough to have you whisked away from the earth's surface. It's enough to draw the attention of Qhetohr who cackles at the sight of Luvarin’s tear-stricken face. 

“I told you so!” Qhetohr’s obsidian eyes flash menacingly, “Mortals are fools. Arrogant, bumbling, fools. You could promise him the world and he would still turn up his nose at the thought of spending an eternity with you.” 

Luvarin clicks their tongue and avoids Qhetohr’s gaze, they wipe away their tears before facing their twin with a burning glare, its force lessened with the redness of their eyes, “Are you done?” 

Qhetohr snickers, they plop down on the kline beside Luvarin and hook an arm around their shoulders, ignoring their protests as they bring them closer, “Don’t be like that. After all,” Qhetohr smirks, “I’m here to help you.” 

Yandere Love Deity whose love for you turns bitter, it’s still there but it’s tinged with resentment, and Qhetohr only fans the flames higher till Luvarin doesn't think twice before saying yes to whatever Qhetohr has cooked up for you.

Yandere Love Deity who continues to watch you, watching as you experience misfortune. It starts with you injuring yourself more frequently. You struggle to think of what else to write in your latest text. The roses you've been growing in the temples wilt. If your public rejection of them wasn't enough already, this was enough to convince the town you're bad news. The temple's head priestess who once told you she understood why you refused Luvarin now glares at you coldly as she hands you your things and tells you you are no longer welcome within their walls.

Then it intensifies, your bad luck bleeding out into your surroundings. The food in the stores turn foul and rot. The animals start dying, flies surrounding their corpses and crows picking away at the meat. The village falls to unidentifiable sickness that the physicians and priests are not able to cure. It all comes to a head when the waters become infected and run black. 

Who else could be responsible other than the ex-priest who rejected his own god? 

They scream at you, they curse you out as your ‘brothers and sisters’ hold you down with flinty stares on top of the stone table. Your bare skin pressing on the cold surface. They stripped you down to your loincloth and doused you in the freezing waters of the Yulerine River all in preparation for this moment.  

One acolytes light the candles at the feet of the altar, and another one pours wine into a bowl and sets it in front of the statue of Luvarin behind you. A priestess lights the incense sticks and the air is filled with the scent of smoke tinged with roses.

The head priestess holds a hand up and closes it, the crowd goes quiet. You can see them, their purple eyes framed by their golden locks, royal and cold, narrowing with what you can only describe as a sadistic glee.

“We stand here today,” The head priestess bellows, “To witness the execution of a traitor to the temple, to our patron and god: Lord Luvarin.”

“Sister, please–”

“He has offended our Lord!” Her voice drowns out your pitiful voice, “And by his death, we shall rectify his foolish mistake. We shall offer his life as an offering to our Lord and beg for their forgiveness by giving them the man who has refused their love that which he does not deserve to have!”

You search the masses for somebody, anybody who can see past this farce and save you. But amidst the mass of people who you have grown up with, who you have helped, who you have supported through the hardest of times only to find aggression and rage that should not be directed at you. 

The head priestess starts to chant the prayers for ritual. The damn Luvercalia ritual. You want to laugh. You spent weeks planning everything meticulously down to the tiniest detail, and you don't even get to see the fruit of your labour because now instead of the sparrow you picked out from the town's aviary, the adorable little bird you've spent so much time grooming and preparing for this exact moment, you are now lying here, being rushed through the sacrifice preparations that should've been done over the course of two weeks. 

You want to laugh, and so you do because now that you're going to die you don't have to care about maintaining appearances. 

One of the acolytes holding you down, a teen boy with freckles and mousy hair named Kreo, glares at you, “Shut your mouth, swine.” 

You only laugh harder, because this little boy is trying to act tough when you've already seen him bawl his eyes out when he broke an ankle trying to save a cat from a tree. 

A balled up piece of cloth is shoved into your mouth and you choke on your own spit and gag as it touches the entrance of your throat.

Usually you love it when it rains, but when it starts to fall in slow drops, building up till eventually you're shivering from the rain, you want to cry because when you died, you at least wished for golden haired Ebris to grant you the mercy of letting the sun shine down on you in your final moments.

As the head priestess starts reciting the prayers, and the men and women who you grew up with in the temple anoint with you oils and salts for the sacrifice, you search for them in the sea of faces and you find them easily. Their lips spread into a devious grin, teeth shining from beneath their hood, and they mouth to you: This is your fault.

“This is your fault!” A grieving father screamed at you as he held his dying daughter. 

“This is your fault,” Your friend hissed at you from between her teeth when the cows on her family's farm began to drop like flies. 

“This is your fault,” The head priestess spoke with a measured tone when you were removed from the temple and your position as priest, “And that is why you are no longer welcome here.” 

The head priestess lifts her head from her prayer, and she spreads her arms wide, “Let the ritual begin!”

The people cheer as your eyes widen and you struggle against the hands holding you down. You try to find somebody with even a hint of pity in their face, but all you see is disgust and resentment.

Despite your struggle and the clear panic and fear in your eyes, an acolyte holds out a wooden box decorated with intricate carvings of flora and sparrows, too pretty to be holding the deadly sharp blade forged from Ofriedian metal that you had personally shined and sharpened to perfection. 

The head priestess plucks it out daintily, holding it with reverence. She weighs it in her hand, before gripping the hilt and pressing it against your bare skin. 

She leans down into your ear, you can barely hear her voice amidst the raucous noise of the eagerly awaiting villagers, “You have cursed us all with your actions,” Her breath that smells like citrus and ice fans against your sweaty face, “But today… today you can repent [Name]. What we are doing may seem wicked and cruel, but I assure you. This is for the greater good. By your death the village will be saved and our Lord Luvarin will forgive you.”

“You will thank me for this. You will thank us all.” 

The head priestess rises from where she bent down, and then she lifts the blade and presses it back down on the area of your upper abdomen, the cold blade digs into your skin, and the blood starts to seep out. 

At first as the knife pierces your skin, the pain is equivalent to an ant bite, if the ant's mandibles were aflame. Then she drags it across his skin like she's making one long stroke with a paintbrush, and a guttural scream is wrenched from your throat but is muffled by the gag and drowned out by the people's cheers.

–

Luvarin felt suffocated within the large mass of people, mortals. Sweaty, ailment stricken mortals burning with rage and righteous fury. Despite how sickening this was, they had to be here. 

They meet your gaze that is resentful and full of fear at the same time, and despite the tension between you two their heart flutters and their face breaks into a lovesick smile. Though it quickly morphs into a frown when you turn away. 

People keep jostling them and the mortal woman with grey streaks in her blonde hair is speaking, but the only thing that Luvarin cares about right now is you. 

You who have the kindest eyes they've ever seen. You who held them in your arms when on the nights they'd visit and pretend to be cold. You who despite your past continued to respect the gods and adhere to the strict rules that came with being a priest. 

Then they remember Qhetohr's words. And Luvarin remembers your other side.

Your other side. The you who looked at the ring, their genuine feelings, and listened to their heartfelt confession, who they allowed to see their vulnerabilities. The you who chose to turn your back to them just like he did all those years ago. 

Luvarin's hands clenched into fists, and their immaculate nails dug into their divine skin. They can hear you laughing from the altar, and that is enough to fan the flames of anger higher. Their skin breaks and golden ichor drips to the earth. 

Eventually your laughter is cut short when you are gagged, and somehow that only infuriates them even further. Emotions they can't understand are brewing inside of them, and it reflects in how the earth responds to them; the sky darkens, and the sound of distant thunder approaches. 

Rain starts to pour from the sky, and they can hear some of the mortals around them start murmuring about how Luvarin must be watching them. Yes, they're watching alright.

Luvarin flinches when you look at them again, they hope you don't notice. Looking at your eyes again, the fear seems to have only increased, and the anger is slowly being replaced by… regret. They smirk, and slowly it turns into a grin. 

Their lips move quicker than their brain, “Yes. This is your fault. Regret it. Regret it and wish that you had just come to me instead.”

They can see that as the rain runs down your face, so do tears. Tears that despite whatever they may want right now, they feel the need to wipe away with gentle kisses.

No! They curse in their head, You can't be thinking this again. Remember what Qhetohr told you. 

You could give him the world and he still wouldn't choose you. 

Before Luvarin knows it, the woman with greying hair lifts her arms to the sky and exclaims, “Let the ritual begin!”

Despite Luvarin's superior senses already being overrun by the harsh sound of ecstatic cheers, they can still hear your pitiful whimpering, like you're a wounded animal. 

The woman is handed an Ofriedian dagger and then–

Thunder strikes the same time you scream. 

Luvarin can't look away. It's like cold hands are digging into the sides of their head and are forcing them to witness consequences of their action.

The Luvercalia ritual traditionally has them cutting open the stomach of a fattened sparrow, removing the organs, and then cleaning it with purified water and then filling it with herbs before wrapping it with a rope soaked in purified oil and tied to a stick before it is lit on fire. 

You kick and fight, tears streaming down your face, indistinguishable from the rain. The woman cuts your stomach open, stopping when the blade reaches the beginning of your loincloth. Blood starts to seep from the wound, the flow intensifying when two acolytes dig their hands in your wound, ignoring your thrashing, and pull the wound open wider. Luvarin feels as if their own stomach is being ripped open as they continue to watch this.

The woman's face is calm and serene, but her eyes have a satisfied gleam as she rolls up the sleeves of her pristine white robes. She reaches a hand in and starts to pull out your organs. The way she goes about can only be described as methodical. First she cuts out the liver, then the gallbladder. She's unbothered by the crimson that begins to stain her skin and bleed into her soul that no amount of prayers or bathing would remove. Hair falls in front of her face as she is pulling out the stomach and a priestess immediately steps in to tuck it behind her ears. 

Luvarin has seen no small amount of blood in their lifetime, before they were an adorable cherub, they were a war hero who walked a road soaked in gore and ichor but this… They… They can't bear the sight of your violent but ultimately futile attempts to break free that only grow weaker as the light begins… Oh gods. 

Luvarin shoves a hand over their mouth and pushes their way out of the crowd, ignoring the protests of those pulled out of the trance the ritual placed on them. 

They barely step foot out before their immortal body is no longer able to hold any of it in. 

As they heave, they try to grasp your heartbeat and stabilise it. You don't deserve this. They made a mistake, but they could still fix this. But just as they're trying to anchor you in the land of the living, something else, a deity or something of equal power, is dragging you to Demorta. 

No, they weren't going to let you leave them, you were going to stay with them and they were going to fight harder than before, and this time they won't accept any rejection you may have ready for them. 

However maybe it was the vomiting, or the opposing force was simply that powerful. Whatever it was, when they whip their head around as soon as they can no longer hear your already fading heartbeat, they use their enhanced eyesight and you– You've stopped moving. The blood is slowly pouring down the altar, moving slowly, oozing even. 

They are already cleaning the now hollowed out stomach of your body and reciting the blessings to purify the herbs. Rosemary. Basil. Sage. Lavender. Thyme.

Luvarin is still as they watch the woman, hands cleaned but forever dirtied with your innocence, place the herbs inside, and then sew up your chest before closing your eyes. 

She claps her hands, and they tie you to a large wooden pillar with the rope. They recognize the wood, they– they can see the little carving you etched into its surface when the two of you visited the grove. 

You smiled as you sheathed the dagger back on the strap in your leg, satisfied with your work.

The first letter of both of your names with a + sign in between the two of them. 

“Some of my finest work yet,” You chuckled, but the look in your eyes tells them it's more than just a joke. 

They brush their hand against the letters, and they smile. It's not perfect, but it's.. it's human. 

“Do you like it?”

“I… I love it.” 

The woman recites prayers before your body as an acolyte waves a golden thurible around your body, letting the smoke curl itself around your corpse and purifying the body these so called holy servants of theirs have sullied with their cruel, filthy hands. 

A man, the village chief, steps forward with a burning torch that struggles to remain lit against the rain that has only grown stronger. He turns to the woman, “Priestess, are you sure that this will work? The rain–”

“The fact that it is still lit is a sign Xander,” She nods toward the unlit pyre, “Please, get on with  it.” 

He nods, and lights the pyre. It is weak, sputtering, and despite the muttered prayers of the temple’s servants and the mortals watching, the flames die out. Killed by the rain. 

“Priestess…” The village chief starts, but the priestess raises a hand. 

“This is… It is an issue with [Name],” She looks to the sky, “Luvarin may not want anything to do with him anymore.” 

Those words cause something to snap inside of them, and as if in response lightning strikes the pyre. The priestess gasps, the village chief falls on his ass, and the people are struck with fear. However the lightning does not set the body aflame, instead the fire lights the earth and it spreads faster than the rain can extinguish it. It bites at the feet of the acolytes trying to put it out and burns them with all the strength of Luvarin's rage.

What happens next is a blur. 

Qhetohr's told them about this before. When your body becomes nothing more than an extension of your weapon and it's like you're not in control of it. 

Everything you do in this state is controlled by instinct alone. 

When they wake up, one of Luvarin's hands is caked in blood and bits of flesh are stuck beneath the nails. They are standing over that woman's corpse and her neck has been punctured with holes that could have only been made by their hand.

Her body is floating, half submerged, and they are knee deep in water. The rain has stopped, and they're no longer wearing their robes. They see that it's wrapped around the village chief's neck like a noose. The village in the distance has been ruined by the flood, and there are more bodies floating around them. 

The only thing unaffected? Your body. The grey clouds have parted and there's a beam of sunlight shining down on you. Your eyes are closed, your head is slumped, and your wet hair sticks to your face. 

You're still beautiful, even as your skin begins to grow pale with death. 

Luvarin sees the Ofriedian knife, they pick it up and sever the ropes. They catch your body when it falls, they drop the blade, and they wrap both arms around you. 

They inhale whatever remains of your scent that hasn't been washed away by the rain and the ointments. 

Luvarin frowns when they feel the unfamiliar sensation of tears stinging the corners of their eyes. They burrow their nose in the crook of your neck and mumble into your skin, “I'm sorry. I didn't mean for this to happen.” Their voice is like a sputtering torch about to succumb to the harsh rain. 

If they strain their ears and focus on the wind, they swear they can hear you. 

They can hear your voice, but they don't know what you're saying. 

“I'm sorry,” Luvarin croaks once more, “I didn't want to hurt you. I never did. I just wanted you to notice me. Not Erasmus. Not Luvarin the Deity of Love. Just me.” 

“A- And I couldn't take it when you said no. I need you in my life [Name], and I still do. But I'm not so selfish tha- that I'd do something stupid. It was Qhetohr,” They can't stop their voice from quavering, “Qhetohr made me do this, s- so if you're gonna be mad at anybody just be mad at them okay?” 

Your silence is deafening but they press on, “I'll do anything,” They look up to the sky, as if begging for any of their siblings to help them. Dignity be damned, “I'll do anything.” 

But nobody answers. Not Qhetohr. Not their merciful brother. Not Uren. The only response is the quiet, occasionally interrupted by the sound of rain dripping from nearby leaves. 

Yandere Love Deity who fixes your body. They place back your organs, mend your skin, and make everything normal again. Or as normal as it can be now that there's a gaping hole left in their existence.

Yandere Love Deity who keeps your body in a coffin they make from their own hands. You have made them countless gifts, but their favourites were always the adorable wood carvings that they can tell you poured more time and effort into than they would ever deserve. 

It is imperfect and made of mistakes, but it is sturdy, and it is genuine. Ularus volunteers to help, he insisted, but a flinty glance is enough to discourage him from continuing further. They need to do this. This is the least they can do for you after all you've done for them. 

Yandere Love Deity who is visited by their merciful brother the day that they lay your body to rest in the coffin. 

“He was always such a bold child.” 

“[Name]?”

“Oh, of course! He may not seem like it now, but well, you remember what I told you.”

“Who else would, if not us? We're the only ones who know now. We're the only ones who will ever remember him.”

“He loved you.” 

“He loved Erasmus.”

“Are you not also Erasmus?” 

“Dear brother, no. Erasmus is the mysterious charming mortal. I am Luvarin, to him I am nothing more than the master he hates– hated and would have never had to serve if he had the choice.” 

“He loved you Luvarin. He was simply confused. He can respect the gods but that does not mean he likes them, and well– to love the god he detests the most is not the easiest thing to come to terms with.” 

“What are you trying to say here?” 

“I'm saying that the two of you could have worked if there was simply time, time that you no longer have.”

“...” “My condolences to you, Luvarin. He was a good man.”

☏ - ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇᴍᴀɪʟ: ᴍʀ. ꜱᴀɢᴇ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴍɪɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ᴏᴘᴇɴ, ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ'ᴅ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴇᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜɪꜱ.

[lord-squiggletits]

Part of why I hate this fandom's take on Autobots vs Decepticons is ppl (mainly 'con fans honestly) who can't have any nuance of the situation whatsoever and love to write plots like "oh the humans are racist and abusive towards Cybertronians so this is how Megatron is right" no actually I don't think colonialism/imperialism and racism are justified so long as you can point the finger and say "they were the aggressors first" or "their hands are no cleaner than ours bc their society sucks too" sorry. Please come up with better sociopolitical narratives in your war story.

[erwinsmithsmissingleftarm]

hello i was reading your works and are really good may i request zeke x reader smut hc? Or warriors smut hc? thanks you

Warriors and how they fuck you

Zeke is a real beast. He plays dirty, teases you until you beg on your knees for him to touch you and fucks you until you nearly pass out from pleasure and exhaustion. This man does not show you any mercy when he pounds into you from behind. Real nipples play enjoyer and addict with your chest, Zeke is sucking on it like a leech until your breasts are covered in purple, red and blue marks. His favorite position is the doggy cause he likes to mate like an animal in heat. Bonus fact: Zeke often falls asleep with his head on your boobs, using them as a comfy pillow. Sometimes he even sleeps with one of your titties in his mouth, like a baby.

“What do you want? Sorry, did not hear you speaking.” “You like it when I touch you here, right? Yeah, that’s my good girl.” “Eh, you are already wet and I only touched your breasts? Needy brat.” “I said, I want to hear you beg for it…”

Reiner is a secret softie when it comes to making love. He’s pretty shy about the subject but all the embarrassment disappears once in the bedroom. This guy is a big cum eater and there is nothing better for him than you riding his face. He needs to feel your weight on his face and your wet cunt on his lips. Gets really whiny if you tease him because he’s such a needy man for you. He prefers traditional positions like the missionary when it comes to penetrative sex as he knows how to do them well. Also, a LOUD man. Whimpers and moans escape his lips non-stop, and he does not even hold them back. Bonus fact: he absolutely despites wearing condoms. Reiner says that they are uncomfortable and reduce his sensitiveness.

“You taste so fucking good. Could eat you out all day, baby.” “Hey, keep them spread for me, alright?” “Stop teasing and put it in already or I’m going to put it myself.” “God, you drive me crazy… pussy feels so tight and warm.”

Bertholdt the most lovey-dovey of the Warriors. He makes love to you like it’s described in a romantic book: slow and passionate. His thrusts are precise and gentle so you could feel every inch of his cock going in and out of your pussy. He often puts you legs on his shoulders and pulls your hips forward to hit the deepest parts of you. Bertholdt is a silent one, the only noise you can hear coming out of his is a gasping sound when he cums. He likes when you ride him, the view of your face twisting at the pleasure while you lower yourself on his dick drives him nuts. Bonus fact: foreplays can be very long with him because he takes the time to kiss all you sweet spots and caress every inch of your exposed skin.

“Does it feel good here? Need me to hit that spot again, uh?” “Can I move? Alright, I’m going slowly in.” “I’m gonna show you how much I love you tonight.” “Take a deep breath… yeah that’s my darling.”

Annie is not often in the mood for sex but when she is, she is giving her 110%. You are this woman’s dearest thing and that’s why she can’t help but praise you every time you do something good. Her cold hands run up and down your curves until her fingers reach your moist spot. Annie is gentle and soft with you, like if she is scared to hurt you by accident. Her hand works quickly but carefully on your genitals before she leans in to suck on it. Annie does not have a favorite position, but she prefers when she can see your face because it reassures her to see the pleasure of it. Bonus fact: She also likes to receive oral, soft sounds escaping her lips while your tongue works on her wet pussy.

“Yes, right here please. Feeling so good-” “You are so good for me. Fuck, I’m going to cum if you continue like this.” “Someone’s excited? Don’t lie, I can see the wet spot on your underwear.” “You are so needy, aren’t you?”

Porco is more of the mean and arrogant type. He’s always bragging out to his friends about how good he is at sex and how much you love it and it’s true. Porco is fucking you better than anybody could have. His thrusts are quick and harsh, hitting your cervix every time he moves into you. This man spanks your ass when you start to give him attitude or when you try to hold back your moans because there is nothing he loves more but hearing your voice. He enjoys making love to you against a wall, your legs and arms wrapped around his hips and shoulders while he lowers you into his cock. Bonus fact: Porco likes to spoil you by buying you sexy outfits to wear in the bedroom. He loves the way your cheeks turn red when you are standing in front of him in that red lacy lingerie he just bought you.

“So pretty for me sweetheart. Come closer.” “You like when I fuck you like that? Answer me, slut.” “Keep that pretty mouth of yours open, let me hear how much you like my cock.” “You need it so bad, it’s almost pathetic.”

[savagewildnerness]

OK, Here we go: S2E7 - I could not prevent it:

SPOILERS

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...

...

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Random train-of-thought thoughts...

The thing that I find most difficult is that in the books you know nobody deserves death & you know when characters are justified or not justified in their actions or inactions.  But on the TV show I just feel increasingly all-at-sea, especially regarding Lestat seeing as we haven’t had any thing from his own perspective yet and it is just A Lot.

For example, in the books, Lestat does not deserve to die, but Claudia is 100% justified in murdering him… but Louis’ inaction is not entirely justifiable, though it’s understandable and Louis’ passivity and his regret at this is the hinge of the entire novel!  You can understand why Louis has anger towards Lestat and Lestat towards Louis and you understand that the love is more powerful and they always both loved each other.

And you know what characters want: Book-Armand wants Claudia dead from the first second he sees her; Armand & Lestat both want Louis alive more than any thing & Lestat doesn’t want Claudia to die, though if it were the only way to spare Louis he’d do any thing.  And book-Lestat is in an incredibly fragile place both mentally and physically even BEFORE he arrives in Paris.  Book-Lestat literally couldn’t have done the trial the way we saw in E7.

But in the show, all the stuff around memories mean it’s unclear exactly what anyone wants or deserves or is justified or not in in many cases. And sometimes it’s opposite.  Lestat truly does deserve death in the show to a degree he doesn’t in the book at all, which is SUCH a huge alteration.  If you haven’t read the books I can’t articulate the difference it makes.  The fact that Lestat has done absolutely nothing to deserve death in the book HANGS OVER all of the pages where Lestat is not present.  It hangs over Louis and obviously it hangs over the trial!  Louis isn’t thinking about Lestat all the time in the book because he knows he loves him anyway despite everything as Louis hasn’t realised that yet and is only starting to realise it.  He just knows he feels some thing and he knows Lestat was wronged and he misses him.

On the TV show I find it unclear whether Armand actively wants Claudia dead and if so, why?  Or to what degree he needs it?  I can see Lestat doesn’t want to be at the trial, but it isn’t clear whether he could not bear to see Louis die from this episode.  Santiago, confusingly seems to care more about killing Claudia than Louis which makes zero sense…. And I don’t understand the why of everyone.  The clearest character is Madeleine, who simply loves Claudia & that’s it. 

I hope it can all become clearer, but I don’t feel 1 episode is enough for that…?

More notes:

Anyone know what Santiago says to Madeleine?  Clearly hypnotising her, but what does he say?  And why is she hypnotised.  Just because she is irrelevant, so to keep her quiet?

Why would Santiago want to torture Claudia pre-trial more than Louis?  He absolutely despises Louis more!  So it doesn’t make sense to me why it’s Claudia who’d be put in the rat box?

“With additions made by The Vampire Lestat de Lioncourt” added to the play script.  How is this achieved?  Lestat’s telling?  Invading Lestat’s mind?

Incredible acting by everyone

Why did Santiago just go with the audience’s decision for banishment?  

Some kind of DreamStat in Dubai?  It felt that way…

Let’s talk Lestat:

I had expected something similar to Armand’s E3 story-Lestat: a very twisted version so was pleased this episode isn’t that.  Lestat sometimes seems very much his real-self… and at other times he seems like he does’t know what he’s doing… but the times he is his real-self, why doesn’t he scream about the fact that Louis is about to be condemned to death here!?!?!  I mean…. It is exquisite the way Lestat first looks at Louis, with no mercy… then turns away, a broken thing - the acting by Sam.... but like... is Armand in his head the entire time and we just don't know it yet? Some of it must be from Lestat's own volition or he would not be able to go off-script the way he does. The trial feels very different to the books.

It’s an odd mix of what seems very true and what seems total lies - there’s enough of real-Lestat that it feels real a lot of the time, but then it’s a weird mix of sincerity and insincerity crushed against each other and it’s hard to feel from when you can’t entirely tell the boundaries of this…

Lestat’s first speech is obviously scripted and it feels like Lestat is on autopilot almost.  When he says “It’s a story of love, not butchery” I already can’t tell if that’s scripted or if it’s Lestat going off-script?  BUT pointing out Armand’s influence on Nicolas’ death must surely be off-script?

After the “Come to me” bit, where Lestat displaces what he did onto Louis, which is clearly a (scripted) lie Lestat tells, we see Armand looking some way, then Lestat sits & looks exhausted/devastated… I wonder if Armand is mind controlling Lestat there to get him to say that? But it’s very confusing as at other times Lestat is clearly sincere & even goes off-script to be sincere, so it is quite confusing what we are/are not supposed to question…. I also noticed Sam mouths the words of Lestat’s Nicolas story along with Lestat speaking that, so he must have written that part of the script….

Obviously the take down of the homophobic soldier was incredibly satisfying…

I am reminded of when Claudia said the best lies contain truth, but it’s a lot.

At least Daniel knows Armand isn’t telling every thing truthfully…

So!  Let’s get to my least favourite thing - The Drop.  I believe the drop happened after this episode.  I do not see any way it didn’t.  The fight was pretty much as I expected inside.  Though Louis said crueller words than I expected, I guess.

But it seems to me the writers have decided to lessen Lestat’s responsibility in making Claudia, but to up his wronging of Louis - Louis who Lestat NEVER WRONGED!

While in themselves, these changes could be perceived as minor, the impact they have on the characters is massive.

As I say, I do believe the drop happened now.  That off-script apology - I do not see it being taken back or not being real.  That definitely wasn’t Armand making Lestat say that on stage, and in Paris Armand’s book-canon Lestat-drop wouldn’t have happened yet.  The whole feeling of it felt 100% real and a genuine apology.  It is what it is, but for me in terms of the writing it is 100% a mistake because it is a misunderstanding of the essence of Lestat.  Lestat would not do that to Louis.  Specifically, to Louis.  I cannot say it is in any way even in the spirit of Lestat.  And it seems very odd the show is including it because actually they’re emphasising the relationships more than the books so it matters even more in my opinion!  But, I accept that Lestat dropped Louis on the show.  I see no alternative scenario.  The implications of it will carry through Loustat’s entire relationship though and I do not like it.  The ending of Queen of the Damned, if they go with it as written will be SO different in feel as well, which even though that is so far away, makes me sad to even imagine how different it must feel already.

I get why there is an alteration with Claudia due to her being very different from in the books… but in the end I feel this episode should have been all about Claudia and I didn’t think that much about her or feel that much from her because there was so much else I was trying to work out, I suppose?  The biggest feeling was Madeleine choosing her, which was beautiful.  But not big enough.  Claudia deserved more.

Preview for next episode shows Louis seeing Lestat locked up AFTER the trial and with the fire gift, presumably going to kill him.  At first I was panicked that Lestat would *only* be seen locked up after the trial (and I am sure that’s what Armand will tell Louis), but we saw Lestat in that trailer in a different outfit, so we must see him pre-trial locked up too.

Yeah… my brain feels fried.  I did think Lestat would be painted more-the-villain than he was.  But the way things were it feels very confusing.  I couldn’t even guess what percentage of that trial was exactly as it happened and what percentage not…

But anyway, the episode was beautifully acted...

[thefooljester]

can i request ej or ticci toby dating hc?

Sure thing. I chose ej but feel free to send in another request for toby if you secretly wanted him instead >:3 (might take me some time to complete it though because you're all eagerly requesting) thanks for the request, im so glad I received a request for my fav too haha I know. I know i shouldn’t show favoritism but how I could I not go all out for my first ej ask hope this is enjoyable anon - - - - - - -

eyeless jack dating headcanons (+ scenario?)

features: eyeless jack

reader: not specified

warnings: canon-typical violence (non graphic)

...

Eyeless Jack Dating Headcanons

Meeting:

You walked into his personal hideout willingly... you had it coming, really. At first, he debated turning his quarters into one of his hunting grounds as you, in his mind, were nothing more than nutrition, but as soon as he saw that you were indeed nothing but a meek little mouse... trying to seek shelter from the heavy rain...

Truth to be told, he pitied you a bit.

Before you'd even seen him, you were nervous - Jack could literally smell the fear on you and that stench was always a horrendous plight for the senses. Sure, your anxiety may have been justified as you were probably overthinking your situation and making it all worse inside your pretty little head…

But you literally couldn't even see him from what he could tell... and monsters as frightening as him were few and far in-between indeed. So… You were simply too scared just being here.

Stupid decisions lead you right into his lair and... well, he wasn't hungry, so he had no use for you.

In a very unfortunate way, you were lucky to run into him. He had mercy and didn’t shed blood for fun. He just wanted you to leave... who could have expected that you'd faint and crack your head open as soon as he made his presence known with a mere “you’re trespassing”?

Thus, he was absolutely sure that you definitely needed protection... or, at the very least, someone to patch up your nasty wound.

Naturally, as someone whose dream it once was to nurse people back to health, he'd bandaged you right up.

Yeah, he was in a bit of a frenzy because your blood smelled positively delicious but it was all good.

You were still out cold, luckily.

He could fix your injury in peace, look around for some painkillers and send you on your merry way since you still were of no use to him and he'd prefer to have his solitude again.

Now imagine his surprise when he found you roaming about after finding some pills in a cabinet long abandoned, while you trying to find the way outside instead, all panicked and sobbing uncontrollably.

You were so loud. Could you shut up, please? Jack can't raise his voice...he hasn't used it in so long...

Well... he didn't expect you of all people to hit him with full force and scream bloody murder. For such a small creature you were surprisingly strong... or it was the adrenaline and panic that settled in as soon as he spoke to you, hoping to calm you down instead.

But NO, all he got was a punch in the face and a slight crack in his wooden mask... ugh... he'd have to carve yet another one, how utterly inconvenient...

Yes, maybe the dark clothes and mask (yeah, especially that wretched mask) didn't exactly give off a friendly intent but trust him... you wouldn't prefer the sight underneath the disguise... punching that... thing, he can get behind, but... he was as normal as he can be right now.

Besides, you weren't that far off as you called him out on being a "murderer" but he'd never hurt someone else for pleasure. It was a necessity! Jack fought for his survival, no matter how hideous his being truly was, and how much he hated himself for it, ...but you were really getting on his nerves right now. He snarled at you in anger as he grasped at your frame and you froze in shock at the sound, a whimper dying on your lips.

You'd heard how bestial if not demonic he sounded... of course you were scared of him.

Jack was a nightmare come to life.

"What the hell are you?", you'd whispered to yourself absentmindedly, looking into his bottomless eyes as a feeling of dread must have settled in. You started trembling in his arms, gasping when you felt his claws against you.

You'd... figured out that he wasn't exactly... normal. At best, you'd think he was a killer and that your mind was playing cruel tricks on you...at worst, you'd rightfully guess that he's a man possessed.

Although he couldn't see you that well due to his "condition", he could make out the outlines of your features. You were but a human being and, he guessed, pretty. Soft and pliant in his clawed grasp... just like... he remembered humans were. Seemed pretty healthy, too, from what he could tell as your heartbeat pounded in his ears like an erratic drum. He felt disgusted with himself knowing that his mouth watered at the sound, the demon in him yearning to pluck you apart...

No. You had your life ahead of you. You weren't a victim nor a target. You just had bad luck.

He let go of you. He knew that you were confused due to him setting you free, but ultimately, you were relieved and grasped at him gingerly, not believing his kindness.

At least you weren't stupid. Far from it, actually.

"Thank you..." You were still shaking like a leaf and your gaze on him was cautiously examining him. He felt your eyes trail up to his impressive height before focusing on his hands, peeking at the horrendous gray skin and his demonic features. You clearly were about to wet yourself.

Jack felt so lucky that you couldn't see his face. You would have puked and died on him from shock afterwards... rightfully so.

"I didn't mean to frighten you." He didn't know why he was explaining himself. He didn't owe you anything... and it's not like you'd believe him. He was made to scare people. Why he wanted to convince you of the truth, he didn't know. You were free to go and you'd hopefully never see him again.

"I trust you," you said with a shaky voice, "You treated my injury, didn't you?"

He was certain that you didn't believe the words you just uttered, yet it was nice to hear nonetheless. This conversation almost felt normal if he tried drowning out his sharpened senses for a moment.

"Yes." He replied.

You nodded before staring at him once more. You stole glances at his ...eyes and you were probably wondering whether it was the mask that made it appear as though he had none of his own or whether he was truly completely and utterly sightless but he would neither confirm nor deny your suspicion. Reminders of his unsightly appearance were most unwelcome.

"Thanks... and... I guess... I owe you one?" You awkwardly shifted around, trying to get into his good graces.

If you hadn't been so terrified, it would have almost seemed cute. You had nothing to offer yet you sort of insisted on returning the favor.

He chuckled and he noticed that you flinched at the sound, making him shut up again. You were a good person. He had no right to destroy your life now, too.

"I promise I won't bother you again...", you wanted to cry, he could hear it in the tone of your voice and your irregular breathing but you kept going, "I didn't mean to disturb you. I was..."

"It's okay.", he cut you off. "Go.", he demanded and you instantaneously obeyed, running off into the rain and away from his rudimentary cabin.

Jack sighed, standing around pointlessly. ...He really missed human interaction.

Too bad he was doomed to stay this way forever.

Continued:

Now imagine his surprise when you came back… Jack might have to reevaluate the impression he had of you, maybe you were stupid. …Did you suffer from Stockholm Syndrome? You must separate yourself from him if that were the case. You’re literally his prey. Don’t come closer.

You didn’t know that though.

You… ultimately knew what led you to return to this unfamiliar place, but you could have shut that thought down and… waited for a solution to come up elsewhere… but your curiosity just got the better of you in the end. Was… he real? Or were you a raging lunatic in the making, seeing demons when there were none…?

You watched him from afar, completely unaware that Jack could hear, smell and perceive you as if you were standing right next to him. Yes, even though you avoided making so many noises. You should get your heart checked, you know? At your age, even when in distress, such a pulse is terrible for one’s health.

Seeing you shush at that squeaking squirrel, mad at you for stepping onto its ‘snack stash’ – hey, your words, not his – next to you was kind of cute though.

Would it be cruel to ignore you? Or would that actually be merciful?

Jack had a pretty good hunch that you were actually here to seek him out specifically… but you didn’t know what you were getting into here. Should he give you a little scare to make you leave? Slice you once and growl at you? Or would he have to… play dead for some time, act like a bear had maimed him?

“Hey, thanks for patching me up… Sir?”

Oh my God, don’t… don’t just sneak up on him like that?!

Wait, what?! How did he not notice you?

“And I’m sorry for punching you. So… you… uh… oh, they’re real.”

He noticed that you were staring at his claws, which made him hide them from your view subconsciously.

He cleared his throat, tilting his head wordlessly. He knew that it was idiotic since you already knew that he could understand you and speak, but he couldn’t allow himself to feel anything when talking to… your kind. It would hurt too much when he… had to do what he had to do.

“S-sir… I… well. I-I couldn’t sleep after seeing you.”

Yeah, don’t worry… he figured, but ouch… you don’t need to rub it in, you know?

“You were nothing but kind to me and I betrayed your generosity. I didn’t mean to… make you feel bad or anything.”

“I’m sorry, what?” He spoke, bewildered for the first time in a long time.

“You… oh God, please don’t tell me it wasn’t you but someone else and… this is so awkward now.” You nervously chuckled, grounding yourself when he raised a clawed finger to point at himself… those things still looked… horrifying…

Perplexed, Jack didn’t understand anything at this point. You really got him there. What happened? Did he wake up looking human again or why were you so casually talking to him? Then why was every fiber of your being screaming at you to run – so loudly that he could perceive your fear.

“I’m not making this awkward!” He argued, gritting his sharp teeth in frustration, “It was me but… hello?! Didn’t I tell you to go? If you have psychological issues that stem from our meeting, I apologize, but…”

When was the last time he idly bantered with another person? A real, normal person…

“...I don’t have any money to spend on medicine. Could you give me more painkillers, Sir?”

…How could he refuse when a savior was what he was once meant to be?

Getting closer:

Okay… maybe you had a rocky start, but it improved tremendously after that… on a professional level, at least. You sort of… used each other at first. You could go to a “Doctor” for free… and he often asked you for information on his old college, current news, whether that one band was still active or not… You were his way of peering into contemporary society.

And it was honestly great, both of you thought. You loved sharing your opinions on things that you left you wondering and pondering, appreciated his opinion on these matters, too. You quickly came to realize that this… person (?) was a studious and well-adjusted… man (?). He was morbidly funny, too, you supposed, always telling you to be braver because he could smell your squeamish nerves every time you come around.

The deadpan – though masked – look he gave always made you swallow your chuckle though, for some reason…

And Jack was thrilled to… talk to anybody, really. His instincts made it hard to be around you, but he… put some measures in place to assure that you wouldn’t be hurt by him. You were… so normal, which made you so special. Ironic, right? He adored that you weren’t a nut job, that you still eyed his ‘strange’ features with unease and mild fascination – you were so, so human and humane and that made him feel like he’d never been wronged in his life. Like you two were just normal people. The fact that you didn’t make a big deal of the things you could perceive by just taking a look at him – height, claws, skin tone and the obviously weird mask – made it even better. Deep down, he knew that you didn’t want to anger him, but he was relieved that you… wouldn’t have to see what he has to face every single day. Your rejection would cement his worst belief about himself into reality: That he was an abomination.

You asked him for his name one day, and that made him pause. Did you have ulterior motives? Were you… involved with them? Trying to get him back and exorcise him or worse? He shook his head. He… followed you. Just once, okay? Just once. He had to know whether you were… aware of who he was… aware of what mutilated him, made him this beast. But you were normal.

“I’m Jack.” He said, flipping through the medical books he asked for with tingling fingers. He was so excited to have books that are up-to-date with current scientific research for once, not even noticing that he just told you his real name.

At some point, you visited when either of you didn’t need something – and that had him panicked for quite some time. Jack didn’t know when you would come these days so he didn’t know when he could even eat… or wash himself. He couldn’t let you in. You would reel at the mere thought of what he is.

Dating:

…which is why he felt terrible when he eventually fell for you. I mean… you were always around him and treated him with respect… and you were sweet. After being possessed, Jack didn’t have all too many positive interactions with anyone for that matter. He could have predicted this outcome, but he felt like he stabbed you in the back, dealt you the ultimate betrayal – you came here looking for a doctor and now you had this monster on you hands that was desperately trying to hide his crush on you.

I mentioned this somewhere in previous posts– I think, I hope – but Jack is most likely to run away from you and isolate when he is aware of his feelings. He thinks he’s doing you a favor because you would reject him anyway and feel weird being with this guy who liked you even though you hadn’t even seen his face and who doesn’t deserve good thing and-

He isn’t doing well.

You grow suspicious and… stop complying with being turned away at some point. He can’t leave you out here forever, can he?

...Jack only let you come inside when rain started coming down in buckets.

He… can’t do this any longer. He cannot act like he doesn’t want you to be his. So… he wants to make you leave forever. So that you can be free and look back without regret, and that he can stop thinking about you, your thoughts, what you may be doing right now…

He tries to hurt you, he really does. Saying things that he doesn’t mean, saying that you’re beneath his kind, that he wants you to go away.

But he does mean one thing in that moment: He wants you to hate him. That’s so wholeheartedly true. You don’t deserve to have an anchor attached to you, someone who will weigh you down and drag you into the depths… You are far too precious.

But you don’t leave him. You don’t even leave when he throws his mask aside and threatens you… you know he doesn't mean a word he says.

“Jack, I always knew you weren’t human. That doesn’t mean that I don’t want you in my life.”

Did he die? Is that what heaven feels like? He was so sure he would go to hell.

He’s very… reserved in the beginning. He’s been acting like a fool for months, he can’t just suddenly change… it will take him some time to stop denying that you’re here out of your own free will, because you love him. That obviously can’t be, he concludes, maybe the demon in him manipulated your feelings and now you’re codependent on him. Yeah, that’s it! You actually despise him and he’s just taking advantage of the situation because he’s so lonely and starved for love and affection.

It gradually gets better… he starts touching you with a firmer grip, afraid of letting you you – difference between night and day when you compare it to his once almost ghostly hugs.

He’s considerate, but… quiet. You may have to guess what he’s feeling most of the time because he’s just shadowing you around the house.

But he does appreciate your values and thoughts so much. You stimulate each others minds and he feels less lonely knowing that he wasn’t the odd one out since he always stood by firm principles and feels stuck in a moral dilemma every time he has to… eat. (A secret he keeps from you for a year… until it’s just unbearable for him any more – and he trusts that you love him enough to help him through this)

You understand him and come up with millions of plans to separate host and demon once and for all, and he adores that you try so hard for him.

Neither of you will ever be alone again.

He tells you that he loves you, a lot. Jack believes it's important to verbalize his feelings frequently... because he knows that you do most of the heavy lifting in this relationship. You make excuses when people ask to meet your boyfriend, you reject everyone who's interested in you and refer to him and you... exist in the real world. You don't just live in the forest with him. You kept your identity and your purpose and he admires your strength.

He, too, wants to be strong for you... and let's you lean on him, cry your heart out and then laugh with him until your cheeks are teary.

[ghostlee]

I FOUNDDD ANOTHER FANDOM THAT HAS ALMOST NOOOOOO TICKLE CONTENT!!! 🗣️🗣️

INTRODUCING: WIND BREAKER

I LOVEEEEE THIS SHOW SO MUCH ITS SO GOOD!!! I’ve also read (caught up with fully since it’s still updating) all the Manga for this so far!!

SO HERES SOME STARTING CONTRIBUTIONS FROM ME FOR THIS FANDOM!!

WINDBREAKER TKL HEADCANONS!!

Sakura

- 1000% denies that his ticklish without fail every time. He could be actively being wrecked and he would still say that he’s not ticklish.

- Nirei was one of the first people to find out that Sakura was ticklish and immediately starting writing it down in his little journal.

- As soon as Sakura saw Nirei start writing in the journal about him being ticklish he tried to grab it from him but Nirei started to poke his fingers into Sakuras side as he was trying to grab it.

- Suo has tickled Sakura before but for the most part keeps to himself but Sakura is for some reason afraid of Suo as a ler and nobody can quite place why.

- He’s ticklish all over his sides and his back is also super ticklish.

- Super ticklish behind his knees.

- As Sakura started warming up to Nieri and Suo more he got more comfortable trying to tickle them.

- Has tried tickling Suo but after he left to try and do it he came back disheveled looking and all flustered. Who knows what happened there.

———

Suo

- Actually insanely ticklish, one of the most ticklish of them all but due to his fighting style of being nearly untouchable, it’s carried over into him being able to avoid being tickled for awhile.

- Has a super sweet and innocent laugh, if you manage to tickle him, it’s like music to your ears.

- Poker face of steel, if you ask him if he’s ticklish he will simply answer “no” and give absolutely no indication of lying so most people just drop it.

- Sakura and Nieri were pressing him for answers the one day while they were hanging out, Nieri somehow had his fingertips right by Suos ribs the one time he asked as he managed to drag his fingers right over his ribs as he was asking.

- Suo basically tried to say no but choked out a small bark of laughter and his hand quickly came up to protect his side and he jumped back slightly before looking at Sakura and Nieri with wide eyes.

- Sakura and Nieri both stared at Suo before getting big smiles and they both jumped out towards Suo.

- One time he had Sakura try and tickle him but he managed to turn the tables so fast on him that he had Sakura at his mercy, tickled him for a good minute or two and then let him go and just stood there with his hands behind his back and smiled at Sakura.

———

Nieri

- Absolutely adorable ticklish lil guy.

- A total nervous train wreck so if anyone asks him if he’s ticklish he freezes up and starts to get all nervous.

- Loud squeaky laughter that kinda hurts your ears but it’s worth it since it’s pretty cute still.

- His underarms are unbearably ticklish and he can’t take more than a few seconds before he bursts out into uncontrollable laughter.

- Umemiya tickles Nieri to calm him down a lot since he knows it distracts Nieri enough to take his mind off of things.

- Nieri takes notes on everyone that he finds out is ticklish since he sees it as a weakness and a good way to beat them in a fight since he’s not as confident with his actual fighting skills.

- Probably the only person that Suo would let tickle him and strictly for practice on where to aim so that Nieri can have something to do.

- Sweet lil thing is ticklish right around his ears and he squeals and giggles when anyone touches them and he covers his ears and kicks his feet.

———

Umemiya

- ABSOLUTE SWEETHEART WHEN IT COMES TO TICKLES

- Thinks they are the greatest thing since sliced bread for bonding activities and getting to know the other Bofurin better.

- The most ticklish tummy imaginable.

- People have definitely ganged up on him before for a tickle attack when he gets a little to excited about things.

- An adorable laugh like omg it’s so precious.

- 100% tickles Sakura and Neiri, he’s gotten close to tickling Suo but the boy is usually just a bit quicker then him on his feet and manages to evade it almost every time.

- Except for once where he managed to trap Suo in a big bear hug and started wiggling his fingers into Suos sides and the boy started giggling with laughter and that’s what fuels Ume to try and catch Suo again so he can hear his laughter.

- If he’s getting to into his plants to much Hiragi will come up onto the roof and tickle Ume into agreeing to come back down stairs away from his garden.

———

Choji

- Honestly kinda scary so the people of Shishitoren don’t try and tickle him ever since they were originally scared to be punished.

- However after the Shishitoren arc where Choji becomes a better person, the others in his team start to feel more comfortable around their captain and slowly but surely start to involve him in things like tickle fights.

- Jo definitely was one of the first ones after Choji was reformed with him to break the ice and try tickling Choji, found out he’s super ticklish and let it play out from there.

- Choji is actually pretty ticklish around his hips and his underarms and due to his height (smol) he can’t fight back against Jo very well so he just gets caught in tickle hugs often and has learned to accept them.

- Umemiya after Furin and Shishitoren became allies started to feel comfortable tickling Choji and even one time managed to get Choji to play a tickle game with him of “how long can you keep your arms up.”

- Neither of them lasted very long but it was wholesome nonetheless.

- Secret death spot is his belly button but nobody has found that out yet. (Not even himself)

———

Jo

- Sly Mf, this guy would admit to being ticklish right in front of you but grin through it and challenge you to dare and try tickling him.

- He’s actually so ticklish though but he will say with confidence that you won’t be successful in making him laugh.

- Even if you pin him down and have him at your mercy he will still act like he has the upper hand against you.

- Umemiya and Choji jumped his ass the one day and absolutely wrecked his shit right in front of Sakura and he was absolutely dumbfounded that Jo was that ticklish.

- Sakura refuses to tickle Jo since he still wants to beat him in a fist fight so he thinks tickling Jo wouldn’t do the fight justice. (He gets over that when Jo provokes him enough and then Sakura absolutely mauls him with tickles.)

- Doesn’t struggle at first but if you get the right spots (right under his ribs) he will be a squirming, laughing mess under you.

- Nieri is an absolute train wreck when it comes to doing anything with Jo since he’s terrified of him, but there’s a part of me that thinks Jo and Nieri becomes good friends and Jo tickles Nieri with nice soft tickles the one time since he can see that Nieri is afraid of him and then allows Nieri to tickle him back and they have a wonderful bonding moment.

- Ume definitely saw it from around a corner and could not be more thrilled that his friends are bonding.

———

Kiryu

- Absolute sweetheart, this man will let you tickle him if you ask nicely.

- Knows he’s ticklish but not enough that he’s like uncomfortable with it so he’s ok if people tickle him to blow off steam.

- Tickles Nieri and vice versa since they are just lil besties and it’s so cute.

- Soft and quiet laughter, but if you get him in the right spot, his hips and low tummy are a bad spot for him, you can sometimes get some more hysterical laughter for short moments of time out of him.

- Doesn’t like being held down when he’s tickled but doesn’t mind behind held in general (in a hug, under the arm hook, ext.) to restrict movement.

- Won’t say stop ever so the other Bofurin that have tickled him before will recognize signs of when Kiryu has had enough tickling.

- Big cuddle tickler, both as a Lee and a Ler. This man will get all snuggly and then try and tickle someone or he will provoke enough to get tickled.

- If he’s been playing on his phone for to long Umemiya will tickle him to get him away from it for a bit.

———

Kaji

- Thinks tickling is childish and that it’s stupid to be ticklish but is super ticklish himself so he doesn’t have much room to talk.

- Tries desperately to cover his mouth when he’s being tickled since he doesn’t want anyone to know that he is ticklish.

- Enomoto definitely at some point wrecked Kaji with tickling and it was probably due to Kaji not listening to him or tuning him out with music and Enomoto getting tired of it and then absolutely destroying him with tickles.

- Doesn’t want anyone to know, he found out through Enomoto tickling him, but his belly button is hands down his worst spot.

- He’s absolutely mortified about the belly button being what does him in, but Enomoto finds is hysterically adorable and almost lets the mention of the spot slip at a school picnic and he thought Kaji was gonna explode.

- Once Kaji starts actually mentoring Sakura, the boy inevitably finds out that Kaji is ticklish and Kaji for the only and only time allows Sakura to tickle him and he finds out how naturally skilled Sakura is at getting away from his hands trying to grab onto the tickling hands.

- Actually a super cute laugh but rarely laughs so nobody knows what it actually sounds like.

———

ANYWAYS HAVE SOME WINDBREAKER HC OF MY FAVORITE CHARACTERS IN THIS SHOW HEHEHE

If you guys are interested in more windbreaker (even if your not send me asks about it so I have an excuse to yap about it more.)

BUT IF YOUR INTERESTED TALK TO ME!!! WE CAN YAP TOGETHER 👹

[raisedbydirew0lves]

welp i realized they made eye contact with mason during that scene as if it wasn't scary enough already :D

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

“Poorly-Drawn” Poorly-Drawn-MDZS by my friend who has no context for what MDZS is, but has read every comic of mine in support.

[gildedmuse]

Listen.... Trafalgar Law is like Opposite Pick Me Girl.

Evidence:

He stole Doffy's whole look down to the shirtless sluttiness, feather coat and the earrings.

He COPIED DOFFY'S ACTIVATION METHOD. How "notice me, senpai!!" is THAT!?

Like Doflamingo, he acts as though your attempts at torturing him are absolutely precious.

Law straight up based his jolly roger on Doffy's. Like it's not even kinda subtle. (Not that Law does subtle. Which is weird for someone trying SO HARD to be dark, mysterious, and edge-y as Kikoku. )

Trafalgar spent years of his life travelling around the world, gaining notoriety and power, putting into place a series of intricate moving parts that all had to come together in just the right way all so Doflamingo would notice him and remember his face forever.

Law: Please, Young amaster-sama! Oh, please pick me!

Law: To kick your pathetic, subhuman ass.

[Thanks to @revlischarm who gave me this idea.]

[ravencromwell]

Fuck, just had a hell of a Holland realization, which everyone else probably realized years ago but indulge my horror: The Danes have their stone statue garden of traitors. And the only thing we've ever seen in WL that can turn people to stone is As Staro. The command Holland used to kill his fucking brother. The idea of him having to replicate that kill over and over with the traitors the Danes wanted to make sharpest examples of, and then walk past those kills every fucking day? I have nothing else to say except it's a fucking crime Holland didn't get the same sort of triumphant, bloody fight against the Danes Lila got against the earth mage who tried to kill her in the tournament, because to say he deserved it so much more is the flimsiest possible understatement.

[pagesofkenna]

i unironically love the Rat Grinders so much and its so funny to me that everyone on tumblr has jumped onto hating them so vehemently; these kids are transmigration light novel protagonists and it's hilarious. they reached level 100 killing nothing but slimes etc etc

that crap is some of the most soul crushing work imaginable. i will forcequit any video game the moment it's clear that grinding is the only way to advance because i hate it so much. they're not having fun. they're not enjoying the work. they got stuck with a DM who thinks XP leveling is worthwhile and they're slogging through it in the most tedious and boring way possible. they're 'powergaming' in only the most loose definition of the term. they're having the worst high school experience of anyone. they've traumabonded over spending 33 hours a week in abject misery and have now turned feral

[unresurgeance]

"we need more complex women" you guys couldn't even handle Sally Acorn

[fighting-naturalist]

Daniel Jackson in “Hathor”

[egojock]

@carminekings: ❛ don't think this changes anything between us. ❜ ( joe & nate / joe saying this kinda teasingly because they either went for a drive — perhaps skipping school — and for once they don't even f*ck ? it becomes almost like a date ? maybe they smoke a joint in the backseat and share large fries and the weed leads them to makeout a lil' but it doesn't go any further and it's strangely romantic ? ) ( source ! )

"okay," nate says, tone clipped, like he can't really deal with all the mental gymnastics joe is having to do right now to make this into a problem, and he's well aware he's being a cunt by giving such a non-reaction. nate knows joe well enough by know to figure the reaction, the blood boiling and thrumming under nate's skin is what he wants. only joe walsh could turn something as innocuous as hotboxing and drinking milkshakes in his truck into something sinister. joe needs an exorcist or a fucking mood ring. "fucking hell. i'm gonna go back to kissing you now, unless you have any more helpful reminders. i can palm your dick if that'd somehow make this less upsetting for you. i dunno?" selfishly, nate would like to go back to kissing, because the smoke has dried his mouth out something awful but made everything taste infinitely more fresh, sweeter, and when he sucks the swell of joe's bottom lip into his mouth it tastes like strawberry milk. maybe if he were sober and more inhibited, he'd be freaking out right along with him about what it all means, both emotionally and existentially, but after smoking an entire joint down the roach all nate can focus on is the wet pressure of joe's mouth and the noises he doesn't even seem to realize he's making, nate's hand stroking tender circles against his flank.

[mexicangela]

tedbeccas, if we have nothing else, then we will always have season 3 episode 10. but dear god jason please give us something else :’)

[zappedbyzabka]

Kreerence <3 (gnaws on ceiling fan)