#it’s truly fascinating to watch though i fear

[larsnicklas]

another funny thing about m.arner discourse is that one side thinks everyone hates him because they themselves feel that way (false) and the other side thinks that only weird old men hate him and everyone else thinks he’s a darling bc he’s their precious hockey blorbo (also false) and it’s just me eating popcorn as these two sides duke it out on my twt timeline

[dragonartist56]

As someone who has been near deathly afraid of tornados since I was little

I am never watching the new Twisters movie

[jaewritesfic]

Melon!AU Part 3

The creature's surprise surprises everyone else.

“It understands English?” Dick asks with a thoughtful tone lacing his voice.

“Or recognizes the motion of the wave as something benign,” Damian proposes, tense as a live wire as he keeps eagle eyes on Cass below.

Cass raises her hands, and though she does so slowly no amount of surprise keeps the creature from restarting that odd, piercing warning sound.

“Don't be afraid,” she says slowly and clearly, her hands moving to sign the words as she speaks. “I'm a friend.”

Despite there being no iris or pupil to be found in those glowing eyes, the way they dart back and forth between her hands and her mask is clear to see.

It doesn't stop growling, but it does shift uneasily. 

Cass's hands move to sign without speaking.

Do you understand me?

Nothing, save for the flicking of bottomless eyes.

“Do you understand me?”

The creature twitches, like being asked such a thing is a surprise. It takes a long moment - as if the question must be some kind of trap - before its head jerks in a jittery, hesitant nod.

More than one person's breath catches audibly over comms.

The set of Cass's shoulders softens in a way that telegraphs a smile, one that can't be seen past her mask.

“Nice to meet you,” she says with her voice.

Knows English but not sign, she says with her hands.

Smart girl. With that knowledge she can sign to the Bats without the creature realizing her hands are saying anything different than her mouth.

As soon as nice to meet you spills into the open air, the creature stops growling. For something with such an inhuman, blank face it telegraphs shock and confusion loudly.

Actually, it…it's almost like Bruce can feel those things himself, like something brushing against the base of his brain. It's disturbing and fascinating all at once.

Perhaps the feelings of dread and disturbance being near it causes is more than just fear of the unknown.

If it can project its own feelings, can it also sense theirs? Bruce isn't sure how he feels about that idea.

“Are you hurt?”

Definitely guarding chest. Bleeding.

“Bleeding?” Tim asks. 

“Chest hurts?”

Bleeding green.

“It's bleeding the Lazarus water?” Tim hisses. 

“I'm sorry,” Jason's voice cuts in on comms. “Your creature is bleeding what now?”

“Unconfirmed, but the color is similar,” Bruce says.

Jason is on standby, gracious enough to be patrolling a little further than his usual to cover the gaps while they deal with whatever this is.

Gracious is actually a stretch considering the choice words he'd had about the request when asked. Still, the protests had been more routine than truly venomous.

Bruce suspects he's mostly displeased with not being on site if his siblings need him in the face of a total unknown.

“Do you need help?” Cass's voice rings out softly again.

Doesn't want to admit injury.

“A doctor?”

There are flinches all around as that finally gathers a marked reaction, and a negative one. The sound is like nails on a chalkboard, like a million light bulb filaments breaking and fizzling out. The cadence is odd, almost like the creature is trying to speak.

“No doctor! Okay, no doctor. It's okay.”

Afraid. Terrified.

The sound stutters out again, that odd feeling against the base of Bruce's skull and the wide eyes of the creature projecting confusion and disbelief over the easy acquiescence. 

This is not an entity that expects to have its desires or fears cared about. Bruce has a bad feeling it's an expectation borne from experience.

Once again, he thinks with a sick feeling about the fact that he hadn't stopped to consider the creature might be reasoned with until Cass stepped in.

“Can I come closer?”

The creature whines as if it's a frightened stray, not a shadowy nightmare. Its claws click against the pavement in a manner that feels distinctly nervous. 

“Please? I won't hurt you.”

Tired. Can't go for much longer and knows it.

They all watch closely as the creature's eyes flicker up and towards the line of police cruisers and officers at the very end of the alley, then back to Cass.

Its claws keep clicking. 

The pool of green below it might be bigger, or it might just be the new knowledge that the substance is like blood messing with Bruce's nerves.

“I'm coming over. Slow. I won't hurt you.”

Weighing their options. Either me or cops. Knows that too.

True to her word, Cass moves slowly.

The creature's tail lashes and it grumbles its unrest, but it doesn't snarl like before and it doesn't lash out even when she's certainly close enough for those long spindly arms to reach.

Cass sinks to her knees just feet from it, posture intentionally open. Carefully, she offers another wave and a pleased, “Hello. See? All okay.”

Bruce's heart seizes. For just a moment, the wide glowing eyes angled to look up at Cass read as painfully young. Like a frightened child.

“You need help,” Cass almost whispers, hands laying on her thighs in plain sight. “No doctors, I know. But maybe a safe place? Come with me?”

Surely the comms have never been so silent as they are while Cass turns her hands over and extends them, like she's inviting the creature to place its own in her palms.

“Keep you safe. I promise.”

For a long few moments, the creature is so silent and still it may well have frozen in time.

Then there's a mourning keen that nearly buckles Bruce at the knees and the creature is moving. 

Instead of taking her hands, it drags itself forward and grabs at her to a chorus of panicked shouts on the comms. So quickly nobody has time to react, it's dragged itself up to cling to her shoulders and bury its face in her neck.

The shadowy frame trembles when she holds it in return.

Masterpost

[black-lake]

The path of warriors 

⚡︎ Aries, leo, capricorn, scorpio and aquarius north node.

🏇🏇🏇

The north node is your karmic path in this lifetime, and as many charts I study and analyze, people with these signs always fascinate me the most with their life stories. These people tend to have the most dramatic journeys I noticed. They all share things in common, persevering alone, beating all odds, relying on themselves, and setting a good example for others. On that note, how have YOU been?? I hope life hasn't been testing you too badly? The day you'll be crowned will come, so hold on love  👑✨👸 I won’t be hyping you up in a sweet way I’ll be shouting at you so don’t mind my aries mercury.

People with these north node signs have to embody the spirit of the warrior, the fighter, the advocate, the trail blazer, the protector, they have no other choice. They persevere through unfathomable hardships. Many of them break generational patterns, needing to forge new ways rather than repeating the old. They remind me of the dragon, the lion, the tiger, the serpent, the owl, the eagle, all the spirit animals that are strong and powerful. This is a check in with you, an acknowledgment for your spirit, and a loving pat in the back from your leo north node friend. 🌞💛

Aries north node.

Rulers - south node: venus, north node: mars

How does it feel like having to fight and defend yourself since you were a child? Being attacked, played with, tested and teased by those around you, even adults coming at you? Being underestimated for your fighting ability and being put in the middle of a battle, unwillingly, even though all you really want is peace and harmony. You found it hard to stand on your own two feet, asserting dominance means conflict. You think you'll find peace but you're put in another battle. I’d be surprised if you haven’t had to fight physically at least once in your life. GET your ass up and STAND up for yourself, loudly, yes make a fuss. Let your voice be heard even if it disrupts the energy in the room. The universe claps for you when you beat their ass and hide the bible if god watching 💥🐯 (kendrick got an aries north node). Never let a bunch of cowards disrespect you, you're up to the challenge. The ways you move in life don’t have to be understood, you're forging new paths. Those who follow crowds lack your strong mindset, lack your vision and bravery. Move with integrity, and remember the truth always prevails at the end. 

With each battle you win, you're cultivating independence, a strong identity, self respect, autonomy over your life and a sense of direction. You are your greatest project and your most significant accomplishment. You've learned to rely on yourself, becoming an initiator, an entrepreneur, an advocate for justice, and a truth teller. Don't wait for people to join you to start, or compromise your needs and goals for others, you can do it solo. Free yourself from your libra ways of people pleasing and seeking social validation. Pick your battles, understand the difference between aggressiveness and assertiveness, and discern what is truly worth fighting for. You're the one who stands up against bullies and liars. You're one of the warriors that the universe uses for justice.

Trust your ideas and instincts, you got all the answers. The universe fights with you and protects you, you're never totally alone. Mistakes teach us lessons, don’t fear them. You're a natural leader, your passion for life is unmatched. You're distinctive, what represents you can’t be duplicated. When life throws obstacles your way, it's to strengthen your fierce confidence, self assurance and independent spirit. 🐅 When you bravely told the truth, when you went your own way, when you created your own thing, when you walked alone, when you took those risks and said fuck what they say, you inspired many people, you awakened many, you left many in awe of your fiery spirit. 

Leo north node.

Rulers - south node: saturn and uranus, north node: sun

How does it feel like to be robbed of your childhood? Being left alone and abandoned as a child? Not receive validation or love? Having your confidence and light targeted and attacked from a young age? Your most beautiful qualities discarded and taken for granted. Your innocence betrayed, your trust and integrity repeatedly broken. Being envied and hated for simply being yourself, for your aura, for shining brightly without lifting a finger. Being alienated, having groups attack you for your unique qualities. Standing confidently alone and walking it all alone. You LEAD, you don't follow, and that can just mean leading your own life. Do you still want to give to others instead of yourself? You can appreciate humanity and inclusivity but release the excessive concern over it. You expose fake groups and encourage authenticity. Princess Diana did everything she wasn’t supposed to do and shined bright doing it, her kindness was golden and her strength was a threat, so they could only attack her (she was a leo north node). Honor yourself, you were blessed by the sun. ☀️💫

You lead from the heart and you're guided by your inner child. Loving yourself and embracing every part of you is for the brave. Leave that group mindset behind, those that just want to fit in are cowards, fuck what the group thinks. Your love, loyalty, strength and generosity are gifts to the world. Don't try to hide your heart, or fall into your aquarius south node ways of turning into an ice queen, isolating yourself and building this artificial heart on top of your real heart, for the greater good or for a bigger cause, or for protecting yourself. Just don’t give to people and places that don't value you. You're learning to bravely STAND up for yourself even if many are against you. You're naturally protected when you are accepting of yourself, and building your self esteem in a genuine way that is based on deep values and not societal expectations.

Heal and free your inner child, don't let the outside noise steal your joy, let yourself play and explore. You'll meet the sun at the end no matter how dark it gets. All those obstacles were meant to make you stronger, develop this inner strength of a lion, this fiery confidence and assurance that isn’t shaken by the outside world. ☄️🦁 That’s who you’re meant to be my love. You're meant to put yourself first at all times, to love, validate and compliment yourself. You’re here to shine in your authenticity. You inspire more people than you know, your spirit won’t go unnoticed, your purity of heart always leaves a mark in this world. Your light is infectious.

Capricorn north node.

Rulers - south node: moon, north node: saturn

How does it feel like being introduced to the harsh realities of the world since a young age? Having to parent yourself without enough support? Being underestimated as a child, restricted, and made to feel inadequate? Being shamed for your sensitivity and emotions. Being placed in the most troubled family with difficult circumstances and told to create a legacy? like hello? universe?? am I a joke to you? Being expected to take responsibility for something or someone. Having pressure constantly put onto you. You become the hardest worker, and then still being messed with? Like oops there’s no reward, do it again. Why are you surprised, you’re saturn’s puppet. The truth is the universe got your back. Reminds of me of Eminem (he’s a cap north node), see how he beat all odds and became one of the greatest? a role model both in his field and as a father. You show people that nothing is impossible. Those lessons become your greatest gifts that guide you to build a stronger and unshakable foundation. Break free from that shell you're used to, you EXPAND beyond that. You're here to be self made, rags to riches. 🎖️✨

Recognize the invaluable qualities you got, the talents, the unmatched energy, the patience, ambition, determination, the caring heart and courageous spirit. Give that respect to yourself FIRST, respect your core values and be proud of what made you. Saturn wants nothing but mastery, it’s your soul that craves mastery this lifetime. 🪐💫 You're learning to build your own safety, at home and in the world, and create your own rules. Let go of your cancer south node tendencies of clinging to the past, repeating mistakes because of childish insecurities or your need to be needed and respected by others. Nurture and provide for yourself by stepping into the world as a self sufficient, disciplined, and goal oriented adult.

Realize that all those difficult experiences happen to help you let go of the past, to build a stable and balanced emotional world. One thing for sure, nothing can stop you, setbacks and failure only fuel your motivation and life force. Rest assured you are promised the respect you yearn for, the success, stability and comfort you dreamed of. You’re one of the most resilient people, unforgettable. Your life story sparks a drive in others to chase their dreams, it inspires more people than you know. The generation will never be the same after you. When you get tired, you can slow down, but remember that everything you need is within you, never doubt that.

Scorpio north node.

Rulers - south node: venus, north node: mars and pluto

How does it feel like having to endure major losses? Having things constantly crashing down before you? Having to fight addictions, destructions and oppositions from everywhere? Not getting a hold of any sense of stability. Feeling like what you chase is escaping you. Experiencing betrayals and having people bring you down, waiting to see you fall. Being the one to blame and villinize when their shadows are triggered. Having no choice but to fight back and learn to survive. Your truth seeking and curious nature triggers many. You go to extreme lengths to find out the truth and seek justice. Your path being ruled by pluto, it removes that which is obsolete, unneeded, no matter how hard you hold into it. You have to be comfortable with the uncomfortable. Your path involves confronting your own shadow self. Survival and regeneration allow you to discover and become fully aware of your true power, limitless potential, and divine nature. “Unstoppable” by sia (she's a scorpio north node) narrates well this story of resilience. You're an alchemist of self, a transmuter of energy, a fighter in all realms. 🐉🔥

This restless mind of yours and psychic abilities you develop aren’t for nothing, they're gifts to help you surrender and trust the universe, the one thing you can't seem to do. You are the butterfly, always cocooning, always emerging. Your life path is a series of metamorphosis. Like a butterfly you're turned into liquid, dissolved, before you choose to spread your wings and fly. 🦋✨ The universe is teaching you that nothing is constant, everything changes, and our innate value as a soul doesn’t. Let go of the illusion of stability. You can choose to flow with the transformative waves instead of fighting them. It's okay to trust and rely on others too, accept it as a gift from the universe. Break free from your taurus south node ways of being too attached to material possessions. Putting too much value on material and physical pleasures won't help you evolve.

Embrace the spiritual side of our human experience, that’s what generates and creates the physical. The painful challenges you faced were meant to shift your values, for you to see and use your power for good. You have the potential to break generational curses and the responsibility to choose wisely between doing better or worse. You can become a great source of inspiration and comfort for others. Whenever I feel like giving up I literally look up a scorpio north node person. Just know that you can save lives. People confide in you, they share their deepest secrets and traumas and you inspire them to keep going because you understand that even the most terrible events will pass and bring about growth and beautiful rewards.

Aquarius north node.

Rulers - south node: sun, north node: saturn and uranus

How does it feel like being the different and outcast child? Growing up in a chaotic and unpredictable environment? Experiencing discrimination or being looked down at. Having situations and people try to humble you. Having your ideas, beliefs and findings rejected and misinterpreted. You're literally vibrating on a different frequency. You might be surrounded by a community or be totally alone, regardless, having a different mission can leave you feeling alienated. You've got an independent mind, you're an innovator, bringing all that's new and futuristic to the world. 🛸✨ You show people different ways of thinking and doing things, breaking and setting trends. Your desire to be a social activist, a scientist and a humanitarian helps us progress. Being ruled by uranus, expect the unexpected, all sorts of twists and turns, don’t be too attached or take things personally and react from your ego. When you embrace your uniqueness, not try to fit in, and do things for the greater good not for validation, you align with your mission. You're a voice for others and that's a responsibility not to take lightly. 

While staying true to yourself, broaden your vision beyond what only affects you, recognize that we're all interconnected. You must learn to share the spotlight and celebrate all others. Let go of your old leo tendencies of extravagance, self importance and self serving behavior, they’ll only pull you backwards. We progress together and you are a catalyst for evolution. You have a deep connection to the earth and the universe, honoring your place within it. You're perplexed by those bums that lack decency and humanity and carelessly harm this earth. Sza, one of my fav artists today got an aquarius north node, and she embodies it well. If you're familiar with her story, you'll know she comes from a different and diverse background, her music style is distinctive, her interests are weird or unexpected, and her humanity and empathy make her relatable and admirable.

Your mission is so important my love, no one can do it but you. Your ability to see solutions beyond conventional teachings are gifts to the world. You recognize that everyone is unique, you celebrate their differences, and encourage individuality in others. People like you are the ones that awaken this world from outdated ideologies and conditionings. It's why this is one of my fav north nodes, it drives us forward by seeking freedom and authenticity, rather than conforming. You are a radiant shining star that holds much needed hope for everyone. 🌬️⭐️

[hyperactively-me]

regency era!ghost x reader au (part 1)

oops my fingers slipped oh nooo. I just watched Pride and Prejudice (2005 of course) and finished the first half of Bridgerton season 3, and this just fell out of my head sooo here ya go

In the heart of debutante season, the grand halls of the manor glittered with an optimistic opulence. Crystal chandeliers hung in every room, and the laughter of the ton mingled with the notes of lively waltzes and invigorating English country dances. Simon Riley, the newly titled Duke, stood at the edge of the ballroom, a stern figure amidst the merrymaking. His eyes scanned the room, but they held no warmth; they were as cold and unyielding as the battles he had once fought in wars. 

Duke Simon Riley had gained his title through his distinguished military service, a feat that made him both revered and feared. His demeanor was hardened, his interactions brusque, and he regarded social gathering and balls with a thinly veiled disdain. He considered balls and galas a different kind of battle, one he navigated with nearly the same stoic resolve as he had the warfront.

Across the room, you move with effortless grace, the hem of your gown bustling around your feet. You are the embodiment of elegance and propriety, your every movement reflecting your strict upbringing. You were popular amongst the ton, your dance card nearly always full. You didn’t really mind, to a certain extent; yet, you’ve never had a dance partner who went past superficial conversation. It was something that irked you, but you had resigned yourself to it a long time ago.

Your father, a Lord, had made it a point earlier in the night to introduce you to the Duke. You glide through the sea of silk and satin, approaching your father’s proud smile in the corner of the ballroom. Next to him was the Duke; a tall, broad man. Quite handsome, you thought to yourself.

“Ah, here she is,” your father said warmly, taking your hand and leading you towards the Duke. “Allow me to introduce Duke Simon Riley. Your Grace, may I present my daughter.” 

You curtsy deeply as your father announces your title and name, your eyes fluttering open to meet the Duke as you offer a polite smile. 

Simon turns his steely gaze upon you, dipping his head slightly in acknowledgement. “My lady,” he said, his voice as cold and formal as his expression.  

“Your Grace, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I have heard much about your service.”

“Indeed,” Simon replies, his tone clipped. “I hope the reality does not disappoint.” 

You tilt your head slightly, maintaining your composure at his bluntness. “On the contrary, Your Grace, I find the tales of your exploits quite fascinating. It must have required immense strength and courage.” 

“It required duty,” he said forthrightly, his eyes narrowing slightly. “And an ability to see through distractions.” 

Something in his tone struck you, a subtle but clear implication that left you momentarily speechless. You clear your throat, smoothing out of the front of your dress. “Well, we are all very fortunate that you were not distracted, Your Grace. Otherwise, who knows where we might be?”

Simon’s lips twitched, standing straighter than ever, but his eyes remained hard. “Yes, distractions can be dangerous. Such as a ballroom, where idle chatter and trivial pursuits often mask the true nature of one’s character.”

He eyed you up and down as he spoke, and you feel as though the wind has been knocked out of your lungs. You feel your cheeks heat up with anger at his veiled insult. 

“Your Grace, I must respectfully disagree. A ballroom is where one’s true character is often revealed; most often through grace, kindness, and the ability to navigate society with dignity.”

Simon raises an eyebrow, his expression unmoved. “It is easy to speak of ‘grace and kindness’ when one has never faced true adversity, my Lady. Perhaps your perspective would be different if you had seen the world as it truly is.”

Your temper flares at his condescension, your grip tightening on the skirts of your dress as you step closer. “And perhaps, Your Grace,” you hiss, “if you had ever taken the time to understand the world beyond the battlefield, you might see that strength and bravery comes in many forms. It doesn’t give you the right to belittle the lives and joys of others.” 

Your father steps forward, sensing the need to intervene. “Now, now,” he says, his tone conciliator. “Let not a misunderstanding spoil the evening.”

But the damage had already been done. Simon’s eyes remained fixed on you, eyebrows pinched and eyes cold. He had offended you greatly, swiping at your character even though he knows nothing of you. 

With a final cursory glance at him, you excuse yourself with as much dignity as you could muster, your heart pounding with anger and hurt.

As you walk away, you could feel Simon’s gaze boring into your back. You do your best to shake off your emotions, trying to regain your composure. An evening that had started with hope and lightness had turned bitter. And while the Duke might have won many wars, he would find that you were not one to back down easily. You were determined to show him that in the realm of society, you were just as formidable an opponent as he was in war.

> part 2

[twistedwonderlandimaginesblog]

Happy holidays! By any chance, could I ask for a HC where MC gets into an accidental baby acquisition trope and has to babysit with Azul, Sebek, Malleus, and Riddle?

Azul Ashengrotto:

Azul is about to write a ransom note if this person expects to get their baby back. He’s drawing up the terms of the contract as you’re coddling the baby, knowing there wasn’t a point in trying to talk him out of it as he was already infuriated that he’d had this responsibility dumped on him randomly. He doesn’t get how you can just accept this injustice and you rolled your eyes at him, telling him most people didn’t spend an hour negotiating a deal before performing a task. He still doesn’t want much to do with the baby but unfortunately for him the baby is endlessly fascinated with him; they constantly reach out to grab at his glasses or his hair, and he’s quickly scribbling additions onto the bill in regards to smudges and emotional distress.

He does eventually hold them when you have to retrieve something (the other alternative being they took off into the lounge if he just left them on the ground which he knew would piss you off, and he especially didn’t feel like dealing with that) but he claimed he didn’t enjoy the time. The baby continued to poke and prod at him, with Azul returning the gesture and poking at the baby’s cheeks which only sent them into a fit of giggles. It almost got a smile out of him but he couldn’t take the hit to his pride, huffing and hastily handing the baby back over when you returned.

Malleus Draconia:

Please keep an eye on that baby. Malleus’ only interaction with human babies had been with Silver when he was just a little ball of chub, and with Lilia being his father… Silver was lucky to have survived his childhood but he had always been special. This baby was not Silver however, and while Malleus would never purposely put them in harms way you can see he doesn’t have the same gentleness another human might have with a fragile little baby. He doesn’t mind when you correct him on the proper way to hold them and listened intently as you explained some of the actions to avoid, like pulling at their little limbs or allowing anything to hit their head. He thinks this is an interesting learning experience though he’s not quite sure what he might need to know about taking care of a human baby, but it also made him happy because it meant you were spending time together.

The baby looked up at Malleus with wide eyes at first, having never seen a fae with long horns or a man quite as striking as Malleus Draconia. They quieted down whenever Malleus spoke to them, seeming to like the sound of his voice and babbling back when he stopped talking. Once they were more comfortable with him they couldn’t help but reach up to touch his horns which you carefully monitored, watching as they felt the new texture and making sure they didn’t yank at them (or his hair) too harshly. Malleus commended their curiosity and lack of fear, thinking it was quite refreshing.

Riddle Rosehearts:

You might assume Riddle would try to collar a baby who was crying incessantly or who wouldn’t listen, but he was surprisingly patient. He took offense to that observation as of course you couldn’t force a baby to follow rules, but you could try and that would matter more than anything. He thinks it’s good to introduce kids to rules as early as possible so they can start getting them into their little heads even if they can’t memorize them quite yet; maybe in the future these early lessons would prove fruitful. He’s patient but it doesn’t mean he won’t get frustrated, able to pull all kinds of knowledge out about babies but not knowing how to truly connect with them.

The baby does stop crying each time Riddle began to talk about the rules, and he even pulled out a book to read through to keep them distracted. He thought this was a good activity because it gave them both something to do, and the little one did seem invested in what he was saying even if they didn’t truly understand. He had never been read to like this when he was young and it sent a pang through his heart, wondering if things might have been different if he had a little more wonder in his young life. Either way, he was no longer the baby in this situation and all he could do was hope they were enjoying their time with him while it lasted.

Sebek Zigvolt:

You think there might be a competition going on about who can be louder. Neither one of them even seem to be shouting but the baby responded with the same tone as Sebek, and his speaking voice just had a natural boom to it. While he had wanted to run at first you had begged him to help you, and while that hadn’t done much the baby’s fascination with Sebek’s portrait of Malleus had. You think the interaction is the funniest thing in the world especially when Sebek tried to indoctrinate the baby into the Malleus Draconia club, holding the portrait in his arms while tears gathered in his eyes.

The way he lit up when he talked about Malleus was cute and the baby clapped in response to his rambling, urging him to continue. Sebek wondered if he repeated Malleus’ name enough if the baby might say it. You stated the parents might not appreciate it but Sebek said it was their own fault as they were the ones who suddenly left him with the baby; either way, they should be honored if Malleus’ name was the first word they uttered. The baby has not a single clue what’s going on but thinks the two of you going back and forth is hilarious, collapsing into fits of giggles each time Sebek made a new face at you trying to reign in his Malleus obsession.

[duskiers]

Enchanted Beginnings

Percy / Aphrodite!Reader

Percy falls for the new Aphrodite daughter, leading to a series of amusing mishaps as he's too distracted by her presence. With a little help from Grover, Percy finally connects with her ☆

First request woop woop 🙌 💗

‿︵‿︵⊹‿︵‿︵⊹‿︵⊹‿︵🕊️︵‿⊹︵‿⊹︵‿︵‿⊹︵‿︵

The day you arrived at Camp Half-Blood, the sky was painted with strokes of pink and orange, heralding your entrance into a world where myths breathed and heroes walked. Percy Jackson, already a seasoned hero in the eyes of many, found himself at the archery range, his focus far from the quiver and bow. The camp was busy with the arrival of new demigods, but one in particular seemed to capture everyone’s attention before the gods themselves claimed her as their own. You, with your grace and an aura that seemed to whisper of Aphrodite's lineage, had barely crossed the camp's threshold before a glowing symbol of the goddess appeared above your head, sealing your divine heritage.

From across the field, Percy caught sight of you, and in that moment, the world seemed to slow. Everything about you fascinated him—the way you moved with effortless grace, your smile that seemed to light up the surroundings, and the kindness in your eyes that spoke of a gentle strength. He was so captivated that he hardly noticed Grover, his best friend, approaching.

"Who is that?" Percy's voice was a mix of wonder and curiosity, his gaze fixed on you as you laughed at something another camper said.

Grover followed his gaze, a knowing smile forming on his lips. "That's the new girl. Daughter of Aphrodite, and it seems like she's already making quite the impression!" he teased, elbowing Percy lightly.

In the days that followed, Percy found himself drawn to you, often going out of his way just to catch a glimpse of you during training or meals. However, his attempts at nonchalance led to a series of comical mishaps—walking into door frames, tripping over nothing at all, and yes, even walking straight into a window, all because he couldn't tear his eyes away from you.

Grover, witnessing Percy's increasing clumsiness and the amused whispers of their fellow campers, decided it was time for intervention. He made up a plan to finally push Percy into taking action, rather than just daydreaming about you from afar.

One sunny afternoon, as you were returning from a strategy session with Annabeth, Grover saw his opportunity. With a quick, "Trust me" whispered to Percy, he gave him a not-so-gentle push, sending him stumbling directly into your path.

The collision was gentle, but unexpected, causing you to catch Percy in your arms in a moment of surprise. "Whoa! Are you okay?" you asked, concern lacing your voice as you helped him.

Percy, cheeks flushed with embarrassment, managed a sheepish smile. "Yeah, sorry, I just... lost my footing.." he stuttered, internally cursing his lack of grace.

"I'm Percy , " he introduced himself, though a part of him worried you might have already heard of his less-than-graceful moments around camp.

You laughed, a sound that to Percy felt like music. "I know who you are. Percy Jackson, the hero of Olympus. I'm [Name]." you said, extending your hand in greeting.

What followed was a conversation that flowed more naturally than Percy could have hoped for. He found himself opening up about his adventures, the burdens he carried, and the simple joys of camp life. In return, you shared your own journey to Camp Half-Blood, the fears, and excitement that came with discovering your heritage, and the hope of finding a place where you truly belonged.

Grover watched from a distance, a satisfied grin on his face as he saw the two of you laughing together, completely at ease. He had no doubt that this was the beginning of something special.

In the weeks that followed, Percy and you grew closer, spending hours talking by the lake, training together in the arena, and sharing quiet moments under the stars. Percy, who had once been so entranced by your beauty, found himself even more captivated by your spirit—your kindness, your bravery, and your unwavering support.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in shades of gold and crimson, Percy found the courage to express his feelings. Sitting together by the lake, he took your hand in his, his heart racing.

"[Name], from the moment I saw you, I was... well, I was in awe. But it's not just about how you look. It's everything about you—your kindness, your strength, your courage. You've become someone very important to me" he admitted, "and I keep finding more reasons to be amazed by you every day." his voice tinged with sincerity and a hint of nervousness.

Your smile in response was all the assurance Percy needed. "Percy , you've been my rock since I arrived here. You've shown me what it means to be a true hero—not just through your deeds, but through your heart.." You respond with a soft smile and a gentle squeeze of his hand. "I’m glad Grover pushed you into me that day," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Percy laughed, a sound filled with happiness and relief. "Me too. Me too."

As the stars began to twinkle in the night sky, you both sat there, talking about everything and nothing. The world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you <3

[lilacxquartz]

JJK x READER DRABBLES I Asking them if they would still love you if you were a worm

a collection of reader insert scenarios in which the jjk characters are faced with a strange question.

w.c: each piece is under 600 words

themes: fem!reader, mostly fluff, some nsfw mentions but light, slight plot, silly scenarios, crack

included: satoru gojo, suguru geto, toji fushiguro, naoya zenin, choso kamo & also sukuna

mdni • semi nsfw • ao3 link

Satoru Gojo:

“Satoru?” you whined in a questioning tone, suddenly seeming genuinely upset about something out of the blue.

It was bizarre, really. One moment you were both watching reruns of your favourite show, perfectly entangled in each other’s arms and the next, you were using that tone with him.

Was he in trouble?

“Huh?” Satoru warily replied, propping himself up so he could get a better look at you. “What’s wrong, baby?”

He stared at you as your expression seemed deep in thought with a topic he could only pray made sense. He couldn’t tell if it was going to be another strange trending question from the internet or if you were truly upset with something serious this time.

It was always a fifty-fifty chance with you but he loved every bit of it, if he had to be honest.

With a furrowed brow, you mustered up the courage to ask a question, “Would you still love me if I was a worm?”

For a while, Satoru had no idea what to tell you as his eyes involuntarily drifted up to the ceiling in disbelief as he held onto stifled laughter. He seemed to recognise his fatal flaw the longer he didn’t reply to you though, so he finally broke the silence with an escaped snort.

“For real…?” he asked, squeezing your shoulders as he held onto you, checking to see if you were pulling his leg or not.

You folded your arms as you signalled to him that this was in fact a serious question to you, tilting your head back to watch those icy blue eyes gradually widen into a burning panic the longer he put off giving you a real answer.

“Uh, hey, look, listen I’d uh…” Satoru immediately scrambled, knowing that he had to answer you sooner than later, choosing to offer you the best answer he could possibly think of, “I’d buy you the highest quality tank, alright? It’ll have the best soil and rocks and I’ll buy you premium-grade gourmet worm food, yeah?”

You slowly thawed as he continued to spout distressed nonsense into your ears, soon finding yourself slowly relaxing as you melted back into his arms.

Confused but strangely relieved, Satoru let out a deep sigh knowing he passed yet another one of your insane tests, deciding to pull you in as close as possible so you wouldn’t doubt him for even a second longer ever again.

Suguru Geto:

Phasing in and out of sleep, you watched how Suguru cleaned your shared home with nothing but fascination in your stare. Your eyes narrowed as you caught glimpses of him meticulously sweeping dust out of existence, ensuring his home would remain perfectly well manicured for his family to enjoy.

You continued to tune into the waking world as the whirring hum of the vacuum cleaner coursed nearby; your eyes slowly widening as your sights focused onto your phone.

Returning as nothing short of a sweaty mess but ultimately fulfilled, Suguru sat at the foot of the bed while you studied him with a specific question in your mind.

Noticing the focus painted on your face, Suguru knew that this had to be good, “What’s up?”

“Hey, Suguru,” you yawned, “you’d still love me if I was a worm, right?”

He narrowed his eyes as you asked him such a strange thing. Furrowing his brows into something that could resemble annoyance, Suguru pinched the bridge of his nose in mock disbelief before finally humouring you.

“Is this one of those trends you’ve seen on tiktok again?”

“Maybe,” you replied as you confirmed his fears, “answer the question?”

“As much as it pains me,” he began as he clenched this jaw, realising that there was no plausible scenario in which this strange idea could ever manifest into reality to begin with, “yes, I would still love you if you were a worm.”

Your face lit up, “Really?”

Suguru ran his fingers through his hair in an attempt to further calm himself down and gave you a tight nod instead.

He couldn’t help but exhale a loud sigh as you genuinely seemed thrilled at his answer to your insane question; feeling himself grow tired from both cleaning all morning as well as what it meant to truly be with you.

He loved it secretly even if he was stoic at times.

It was your silly side that drew him in, after all.

Toji Fushiguro:

You walked side by side with Toji on the way to the locks park. In one hand you carried a red fleece blanket while he carried a wicker basket.

He reluctantly agreed to go on a picnic with you during his time off because he knew it would make you happy even if he didn’t quite look forward to sitting on some grass out in the exposed open field.

Upon arriving to the destination and setting up shop though, Toji lasted maybe just under ten minutes before he grew restless and started ripping out chunks of grass in a huff.

“Babe,” he sulked as he tried to get your attention, swatting a fly away from his face, “I’m bored. How long do we have to be here for?”

“You promised you’d tolerate it for at least fifteen minutes,” you sighed, supposing you should have been thankful that he entertained the idea of it at all.

“You keeping track?” he quizzed you, his eyes training onto the basket. “How about we eat then we go? I’ll take you on a nice walk instead.”

You nodded in a resigned manner despite not quite opposing his idea and as you tucked into the packed sandwiches, your gaze settled on a worm writhing between the blades of grass.

Staring at it, you decided to torment him.

“Toji?” you asked.

He hummed in response with his mouth full of bread, making him sound muffled as he replied, “Whath ith ith?”

“You’d still love me if I was a worm, right?” you asked, pointing at the earthworm.

“I already have one of those,” he said as he swallowed his bite, “don’t need another, especially since you wouldn’t be able to do much.”

“I’d be useful,” you defensively replied.

“Yeah?” he asked, staring at you with a strangely fond look in his eyes.

“I’d be your personal little compost worm for your garden,” you proudly announced.

“Garden? You think I can afford a place with a garden?” Toji laughed, tugging your wrist to pull you closer to him.

“…Hypothetically,” you reminded him.

“You are such… a menace sometimes,” he sighed to himself as he reeled you in even closer, “if I tell you what you wanna hear, can we get out of here sooner?”

You nodded, “Yes.”

“Then by all means,” Toji beamed, “hell, I’d even make sure your compost bin looks like a little worm mansion.”

“Good,” you smiled, “it’s what I deserve.”

“God, you and your weird questions,” he sighed as he held you closer, not caring that you were in public, “just keep them to a limit though, I don’t want to go grey before forty. Got it?”

“Got it,” you smiled.

Naoya Zenin:

Sitting from across the dining table sat your stoic and distant husband, Naoya Zenin. Your marriage to him had always been questionable at best, but you didn’t complain too much as long as he kept his promise to provide for you.

On some days, you weren’t too sure how you felt being paraded around as his arranged trophy wife, but surprisingly you both somehow complimented each other quite well.

Initially, he didn’t care for what you had to say at all, finding your words to be pointless. However somewhere down the line, he would allow for you to talk if you truly had to do so, provided that you ceased talking when he told you to.

He wouldn’t admit it to you directly, but he was actually growing quite fond of you as the time passed you both by.

“Naoya?” you asked, swirling a crystal goblet of wine in your hands, raising it to meet with the light.

He set his fork down and leaned his chin over his palms with feigned interest. Just by that tone alone, he could tell it was time for your daily torment of asking useless questions. That was the type of relationship you developed with him; you liked pissing him off with conjured up bullshit while he liked putting you into place in bed later.

“What is it, woman?” he asked, as dehumanising as usual. Maybe one day he’ll call you by your actual name.

“Would you still keep me around if I turned into a worm?” you asked.

“I would not,” Naoya scoffed, his smile widening on accident before falling flat, “you’d be lucky if I didn’t step on you right then and there.”

“Bit mean, don’t you think?” you asked as your head titled off to the side.

Snapping just a little at the ridiculous question, he narrowed his gaze, “What use could I possibly have for a worm?”

“None, I suppose… but it’d still be me,” you gestured dramatically, pulling the wine glass to meet with your lips and taking a sip.

“No, it wouldn’t be you,” he corrected you with a huff, “it would be a worm and I don’t have a use for a worm. I’d step on you and find someone else.”

“So heartless,” you commented, “not even hypothetically?”

Naoya’s expression darkened at your persistence, feeling his patience finally run out. He was already annoyed that you dared to ask such a stupid thing of him. The only reason he even tolerated you to begin with was because you were easy on the eyes and compliant enough—he’d say you were light on the ears but not with this drivel you were subjecting him to.

“And? My point stands,” he replied.

“But-“

“—cease,” he hissed, momentarily losing his composure, “you’re… not turning into a worm. Not even hypothetically, so be quiet.”

You faltered for now as you resigned into hushed submission, thinking about what question to bother with him for tomorrow.

Meanwhile, Naoya sighed at last as this conversation was finally over. He was absolutely going to punish you for making him listen to such garbage; maybe putting that pretty mouth of yours to use in a way that didn’t result in pointless rambling for a change.

It wasn’t like you were using that thing to do anything useful with that thing, anyway.

Choso Kamo:

As you both basked away on a beach during the peak of summer, Choso wasn’t taking the heat too well at all. Not only was he tucked away, clinging onto the shade cast by the parasol but he was also quite literally congealed in what could have been an entire bottle of sunscreen.

He reluctantly tagged along with you for a beach trip because you informed that, to his horror, you'd be lounging around in a public place with just a bikini on. Choso wasn’t possessive by any means he thought (he was wrong), but he didn’t feel quite right for you to do so alone without his protective watch.

As a result, he felt just a little agitated even if he didn’t let it show. Both from the rowdy company that occupied the coast as well as the relentless sun prickling away at his skin.

So when you spotted a worm wriggling around in the sand and he had to witness you fling it back ono the grass with a stick, it seemed that he finally reached his tipping point of what he could handle on such a hot day.

Not quite realising that he was on a descent into madness, you spoke up with a playful tone, “Choso?”

Slowly, he turned his neck around, shuddering at how stiff it sounded. It was as if he was made from stone as his joints swivelled; his eyes settling on you with a questioning hum.

“…Yes?”

“Do you think you’d still love me if I was a worm?” you asked, staring at the sky through your shades.

“A-a worm…?” he asked back, not quite sure if he was hearing you correctly. Maybe he wasn’t and this was his sign that he finally slipped away into madness.

But then you spoke up again, confirming that the question was real, “Yeah, you know, like those long slimy wiggly things.”

“I-I know what a worm is,” he stammered, slowly grounding himself as he listened to you talk. As nonsensical as you were being, he found himself growing calm with the help of your voice.

“That’s good to know,” you snorted, “so… would you?”

Choso sighed softly to himself, a small smile tugging at his lips. He couldn’t help but stare at you with a strange mix of wonder, love and frustration all at the same time. Was this what being in love was like for everyone else?

In an instant, he forgot about the rest of his worries, choosing to take your question very seriously as your reliable boyfriend.

“Yes, I-I’d love you especially if you were a worm,” he replied with a strong hint of determination, not realising that he had already fumbled his answer with a strange choice of words.

“Especially?” you laughed as you turned over to your side, pulling your sunglasses down to get an even better look at his silly state.

“Oh… Oh! N-no I meant…” he scrambled, his brows furrowing in slight panic, “I would love you no matter what form you took on because I’d know it was you and I love you.”

“You’re so sweet,” you laughed. “I would love you no matter what, too.”

Sukuna:

You remained propped up on Sukuna’s lap as he wrapped a secure hold around your form with his lower set of arms. With the top half of his limbs, he held onto a branch of grapes as the other gently petted you, feeding you with a fond look in his eyes.

It was admittedly a little strange the first time he first talked you into these sorts of sessions, but you supposed that they were pretty nice. Quiet and almost intimate moments where he fed you all sorts of fruits all the while he held onto you as though you were some sort of prized possession.

Neither of you ever talked during these interactions, as this was purely an act of not quite affection, but assuring your devotion to him.

However, your mind remained fixated on something from earlier on in the week and it was starting to conflict with the grapes he wanted to feed you.

Just a few days ago, you heard him trash talk humans to Uraume and call them insects, wondering if he felt that way about you too.

Noticing your torn expression, Sukuna sighed as he pulled the grapes away at last and fed you a look of slight disdain.

“Something’s on your mind, isn’t it?” he observed, tweezing your chin to face him as he studied the way you reacted to him, “Speak.”

“I-it’s fine,” you murmured, trying to ignore the issue.

“Don’t take me for a fool,” Sukuna warned, “your secrecy mocks me.”

Figuring that he wasn’t going to drop the subject unless you told him exactly what it was. you decided to work up the courage to ask the question that had been eating you from the inside.

“Do you see me as an insect?”

Sukuna immediately understood what you must have been referring to and rather than berate you for filling your mind with such useless worries, needing to keep you calm for his desired time with you, he shook his head in response instead.

“I do not, my pretty one,” he replied, letting go of your chin at last, “you’re above that. You’re mine.”

“So… if I turned into a literal worm, I still wouldn’t be an insect to you?” you asked, unsure what point you were trying to make exactly.

“You’re pushing your luck here, brat,” Sukuna replied in a serious tone despite surrendering to an amused smile.

“So I wouldn’t be…?” you asked with some hope.

“Ideally, you wouldn’t become such a disgusting thing to begin with,” he replied in a mock shudder, “but I suppose you would have been the only worm I’d have ever liked.”

Seeming satisfied with his response, you finally relaxed once again and that’s right about when he pressed the fruit to your lips to continue from where you both left off.

[lesinquietes]

Forgive me y’all but I’m on a Hellsing kick again and I’m thinking about Alucard being infatuated with a darling who’s the daughter of a deity 🪽

18+ (minors dni) // yandere buildup

Curtailment

He knows you’re off-limits. Integra said so. She told him not to tamper with the Gods. Hellsing has enough trouble dealing with Iscariot; she doesn’t want her pet interjecting himself in any more supernatural affairs, particularly when you’ve decided to graciously lend a hand in information gathering for them.

But he can’t help himself.

When you come around — which is not often, mind you — he’s always watching from the shadows. The day he introduced himself to you, taking your hand in his and planting a gentle kiss to your knuckles, was the same day Integra commanded him to stay away. You aren’t dumb, though. You know he’s there. You’ve done your research on vampires, and you know who he is. In fact, it’s your unwillingness to flinch when you glance into his blackness and he flashes a pair of crimson orbs at you, that fascinates him about your demeanour. Such a curious thing you are. Beautiful, too. A being that was truly sculpted by the Gods.

One night, tired from your travel and his incessant antics, you address him. You’re reading in the library. The atmosphere is peaceful, save for his tumultuous, overwhelming presence; it’s that which makes you privy to speak.

“If you always make such a racket stalking your prey, it would be no wonder to me if you were starving.”

And he takes that as an invitation. Despite Integra’s caution, he manifests in the middle of the stacked shelves. It would be rude if he ignored Hellsing’s most esteemed guest, after all.

“My dear, you wound me.” He utters, pressing a chaste hand to his empty, unbeating chest. “Do you believe I’ve learned nothing over my years of hunting?”

You close the book you’re translating and stand up from your lonely desk. Static in place, you maintain a short distance. Unlike prey of the past, you’re collected and certain of yourself. He senses no worries, no second-guessing. As with him, it must have taken you decades to hone yourself and your abilities. He has respect for spirits, deities, and other things of old precisely because of this shared perseverance.

“If what you say is true, then you’ve made a crucial error in judgment.” You muse, eyes meeting his without fear. “That’s not very befitting of a King.”

“Oh?”

He tilts his head ever so slightly to the right. The grin painted on his handsome, pale face hasn’t diminished a bit. Although your banter is spicy, you haven’t stepped out of line. He likes playfulness in conversation, so long as the other party meets his expectations; thus far, you’ve exceeded them.

“We may be on the same team now, but don’t think for a moment I’m not a threat to you.”

A low hum leaves his closed lips. Boldly, he nears closer to your desk. He’s significantly taller, towering over you like an evergreen canopy in a chaotic forest. He lowers his gloved fingers to rest just below your chin, hovering there, not daring to touch you, though deeply tempted to take what he feels will be his. Instead, he settles for flustering you.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, my Goddess.”

Next l

[reallyhatethiswebsite]

read this post by @bitethedevil and ended up writing this idk don't take it too serious

Read on AO3

-

Tav's fingers skittered over the red skin of Raphael’s naked back. It was always hot to the touch and smooth, its texture almost like leather. Patches of tiny scales grouped together in different spots, especially around the big joints connecting his wings to his body. Raphael fascinated Tav - not quite in the same way she fascinated him, but they were birds of a feather, so to speak. In fact...

"I've been wondering about something," she said, breaking the sleepy silence that had settled between them some time ago.

"Mm?" Raphael was utterly relaxed, the laziest Tav had ever seen him. On his belly in his (their!) bed, shirtless and shoeless - the scandal! He'd been enjoying her aimless touches. His Majesty, indeed.

"Can you fly?" She ran her palm across the thin membrane of wing she could reach, then the sturdy bone. "You've got these huge wings, but I've never seen you use them." She'd witnessed them fully stretched out once or twice, but otherwise he always kept them folded close to his body. A shame. They were magnificent. Heavy as anything, though - especially when he was dead asleep. Tav had almost been suffocated a few times trying to spoon him, and he refused to sleep in his human glamour just to let her be the big spoon. Waste of magic, he said. Spoilsport.

"What an inane question." Raphael didn't even open his eyes. "Of course I can. My wings are not for show, little mouse. No more so than a bird's are."

"Well..." Tav chose her next words carefully. She'd learned through trial and error how much she could prod her devil and when. Most of the time he was amenable to light teasing, but sometimes, when he was in a good mood like this, she could have some fun. "There are some birds out there who have wings but can't fly, you know. Peacocks, for example. They're kind of like big chickens, if you think about it."

Raphael slowly lifted his head, turned it so he could look at her over his shoulder. Tav bit her tongue in a futile attempt to squash her impish grin. His orange iris burned in the inky depths of his black sclera. A few locks of his hair were free from his usual coiff.

"Big chickens," he repeated flatly.

"Yes," said Tav, her voice strangled by the giggle she was trying to suppress. "How do I know you aren't an infernal peacock?"

"I can fly, you insipid little gibbon," he snapped, but he wasn't angry. She could tell by the twitching at the corners of his lovely mouth. Tav coughed, choked on a laugh.

"I think you should show me."

"Do you."

"For posterity's sake, of course."

"Of course."

Tav waited, watched, moved to make space for Raphael as he sat up, languidly stretching like a big cat. Accidentally whacking her with those wings she was so obsessed with.

"Apologies, dear," he drawled, about as sorry as a horny kobold in a bathhouse. He smiled when she scowled. He stood to his full height, preening as she ogled him. In nothing but a pair of trousers, he truly was a sight. Without warning he beat his mighty wings and took off, soaring across the room to land on the other side, where he nonchalantly poured himself a glass of wine. Tav spluttered in the wake of that massive gust of air. Raphael sipped his wine, staring at her as if to say, "well?"

"Good distance! You looked a little wobbly with your execution, though," Tav said. It wasn't true. He was majestic in flight, but he didn't need to know that. His ego was big enough. She combed her fingers through her rustled hair, grinning when Raphael’s eyes narrowed.

"Perhaps you're right." He put his glass down and sauntered towards her. Tav's heart leapt into her throat, fear and excitement together. "I need a counterweight."

"A what? Hey!" She didn't struggle when he picked her up, shifting her in his arms until he was holding her bridal style. It was a thrill to be held by her devil, and yet. She giggled nervously, her cheeks warm. "What are you doing?"

"Why, showing you that I can fly, of course!" He declared, making a scene of looking around. "But we simply cannot do it here. There's hardly enough space. Hm...ah, perfect."

He walked them to the balcony overlooking the endless landscape of Avernus. Tav sucked in a sharp breath, suddenly aware of what he was about to do. Now she began to try and wriggle free, but his grip was iron.

"Okay, you've proven your point! There's no need for a second flight, your technique was perfect!"

Raphael had no mercy. He smirked down at his little mouse, showing teeth. His eyes alight with dark mischief. "Big chickens, Tav," he said, and leapt off the edge. She shrieked, clung to him like a limpet, feeling and hearing his chuckles as he effortlessly flew them around.

After the intial spike of shock, Tav relaxed, just a little. This wasn't so bad. Raphael was an adept flier, and if she ignored the monumental height she was suspended at, it could almost pass as romantic. Soaring about the hot skies of Hell in the arms of her underworld Prince. Feeling every powerful flap of his wings. His strength. Avernus, from a distance, was beautiful in a devastating way. Unfortunately for Tav, she'd forgotten quite how fiends liked to play.

"Oh dear," Raphael said, stoic. He'd been waiting for her guard to lower. Tav's stomach lurched when she sensed his grasp on her slacken. "I seem to have lost my balance."

"RAPHAEL NO DON'T- AAAAAAHHHH!"

He dropped her. Tav screamed as she plummeted to the ground, terrified and betrayed. Raphael was rapidly becoming a shrinking red blur as she fell. He was probably watching her with sick satisfaction. She cursed him. She cursed herself. Mostly she cursed him. Bastardbastardbastard -

"Fret not, little mouse," he purred, hideously amused. She was in his arms again. "I've got you."

Tav couldn't speak; could only tremble, dig her fingers into him. He laughed the entire flight back to the house, deep and rich and raw. Tav planted herself on stable ground the first moment possible, glaring at him.

"You're horrid," she hissed. Raphael cackled.

"Oh, come now. You didn't truly believe I would allow you to fall to your death, did you? Such little faith. Ah, but how sweet your screams were...I shall be hearing them in my dreams for weeks."

"Horrid," Tav muttered again. She wriggled between the bedsheets and buried herself under the covers. It didn't take long for him to join her, surrounding her with his cloying heat.

"You'll forgive me, won't you?" He murmured sweetly into her ear, raising goosebumps all over her skin. One big clawed hand slipped beneath her shirt to gently rub her stomach just the way she liked. Wordlessly she pressed into his touch.

He played her like a fiddle, always.

[seraphiism]

𓆩 ♡ 𓆪 ┊ 𝐏𝐒𝐘𝐂𝐇𝐎 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐄

( tomorrow / either i will murder you / or you will rinse the knife in water )

chara : arlecchino fandom : genshin impact quote cr : garous abdolmalekian ; ashwarya a/n : i haven't played genshin in forever, this is all based off her character trailer + wiki

act one : BUT THE STAIN OF A CURSED EXISTENCE IS A TREACHEROUS BEING : HIDEOUS , HORRIFYING , HUMANIZING.

the first time you witness the black that adorns her skin is the first time your heart beats in vast terror. a battle gone wrong, tattered clothes and gloves, and then the reveal of the truest & highest self of a harbinger.

you do not know what to do, what to think. you are unsure if it is the adrenaline of survival that makes the life in your chest ache violently so, or if it is the fear and wanting of the unknown.

arlecchino stands before you, yet you do not dare cast your gaze upon her. you swallow hard, eyes following the drips of sanguine that fall from wretched claws. oh, dearest, how they sink into the hollows of the world, forever fragmented into existence in remnant of death. the blood is too much. it's too much-- the way it splatters across her skin, nearly drenching all black until it is an ocean of madness and crimsons and massacres.

your hands tremble. your stomach churns. you look elsewhere, searching for refuge, but the blood follows, and somewhere in its meaning is the death of those it once belonged to, and that makes your heart beat faster and faster until you feel your mind on the verge of break.

"stand."

the blood is too much.

you listen, but still, you do not look. you are afraid, but you are unsure of what.

a sharpness digs into your face, sudden. harsh. her claws press into your skin-- not light, but seldom hard enough to draw blood. you know very well that she could harm you if she desired, yet she doesn't. she jerks your chin up, forces you to meet her gaze.

"it's ill-mannered to not look your savior in the eye."

your mouth runs dry. something unfamiliar gnaws at your humanity.

"i... am thankful that the blood on your hands is not mine."

and in the abyss of black and red, there's just the faintest trace of amusement in the echoes of apathy.

"a simple thank you would have sufficed."

act two : BUT THE STAIN OF A CURSED EXISTENCE IS A TREACHEROUS BEING : FRIGHTENING , FOREIGN , FATED.

you do not know what draws you to her, this harbinger. it has been a long while since your first encounter, and still, you have remained by her side. you do not know why. you do not know why she agrees to your companionship. you question it more often than you'd like.

she is a complexity of things you have yet to unravel, and truth be told, you doubt you will ever understand her, her past, or who she truly is, and maybe it's better that way. that's what you'll tell yourself, anyway, even if it might hurt.

because she is both safety and danger to you, and you wish that frightened you, but it doesn't. you wish that it would drive you away, but it doesn't. she is no sanctuary, no haven, and though she is lined with cruelty, there is not always a coldness in her heart. you know this.

"i did not save you with the intention of keeping your presence." she tells you one day, and you cannot help but smile.

she washes the crimson off her hands. an all too common sight you have grown to adore. you watch in fascination every time, searching the bright red that fades into an everlasting black.

"yet you do not push me away, arlecchino."

she does not respond. she stares at the bloodied waters, the hazy red a familiarity. in her muddled reflection, there is nothing but vacancy.

"no, i don't."

( she doesn't. she should. you both know this. )

act three : BUT THE STAIN OF A CURSED EXISTENCE IS A TREACHEROUS BEING : ADORED , ADMIRED , ANTAGONIZED.

the world is not meant to be viewed in good and evil, but how it is deeply desired so. it would make things simpler, wouldn't it? the truth would be so easy, the war between logic and emotion dissipated into black and white and seldom gray.

that's what you'd like to imagine, anyway. because even in a world full of good and evil, you do not know where you stand, nor do you know where arlecchino stands. your heart beats dearly for her, but you do not know whether it is with love or infatuation or with warning of the end to come.

perhaps it will be a happy ending. perhaps you will not be in it, whether in death or other means.

you are unsure.

you sit before her, staring at the translucent water in the basin. it has yet to be disturbed by another, pure. your reflection is curious, though you are unable to study it for long. your gaze shifts elsewhere as she grabs your jaw; it is a familiar feeling, the way she forces you to look at her.

it's a dark nostalgia, you think. the blood on her claws, the digging sensation in your face, though much gentler than before. you aren't afraid this time. she stares at you, visage empty. she waits.

your lips curve, subtle. there is a strange exhilaration in the mourning of it all, and one day, you will understand it.

"i wonder," you begin, hand wrapping around her wrist, "when it will be my blood on your hands one day."

something in her expression changes. you barely catch it, but even then, you cannot read it. she leans forward, closes the distance between you, her lips just inches away from yours.

"will you be thankful, even then?"

her grip on your jaw tightens, but still, the claws do not draw blood. you wish it did. you grin.

"of course." you answer, and slowly, you press your lips against hers. "i will always be thankful."

[midastouch013]

Her Caregiver

TO THE ANON: I'm so sorry, I lost your request, but I hope this meets what you had requested

Summary: Natasha Romanoff has always managed to keep her little secret a secret, but what happens when she gets jealous of how you care for Wanda?

Warnings: Little/Caregiver, Jealousy, Little Nat, Little Wanda

P.S. Sorry for being so late, there was this retreat and there wasn't any reception there. Plus, I'm not sure if this is exactly how Caregiver and Little fics work, but I hope you like it.

---

Natasha Romanoff sat in her room, her gaze drifting towards the stuffed animals arranged neatly on her bed. She had always been drawn to the softness and comfort they provided, a stark contrast to the harsh reality of her life as an Avenger. But there was something deeper behind her fascination with these childish trinkets, something she had never fully acknowledged until now.

She glanced at the door, her heart racing with uncertainty. She had been harboring a secret, one she hadn't dared to share with anyone, not even her closest friends. Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow, was a little.

The thought both terrified and excited her. Terrified because she feared judgment and rejection from her peers. Excited because she longed for the care and comfort she had never allowed herself to experience. But most of all, she longed for someone to understand her, to see past the tough exterior she presented to the world.

That someone, she realized, was you.

You, her teammate, her friend, the one person she trusted above all others. She knew you had a kind heart and a gentle touch, qualities she desperately craved in a caregiver. But how could she ever admit such vulnerability to you? How could she risk tarnishing the image of the fearless Avenger you admired?

Natasha sighed, her fingers tracing the edges of a plush bear. She wished she could be brave enough to ask for what she needed, to shed the weight of her secrets and be truly seen. But fear held her back, fear of rejection, fear of ridicule, fear of being deemed unworthy of love.

And so, she buried her desires deep within her heart, locking them away behind walls of steel. But even the strongest barriers couldn't contain the longing in her soul, the ache for connection that refused to be silenced.

And so, a series of events were to set that day, one that would make her have you, as her caregiver, maybe even something more.

--

In the quiet of the Avengers compound, a sudden disruption shattered the tranquility. Wanda Maximoff stumbled into the common area, her usually composed demeanor replaced by one of vulnerability. Sensing something amiss, you approached her, concern etched across your features.

"Hey, Wanda, what's wrong?" you asked gently, kneeling beside her as she curled up on the couch.

Wanda looked up at you with wide, tear-filled eyes. "I-I don't know," she whimpered softly.

"It's okay, sweetheart. You're safe here," you assured her, offering a comforting smile. "Do you want a blanket?"

She nodded, sniffling, and you quickly fetched a blanket, wrapping it around her trembling form. Wanda leaned into your embrace, finding solace in the warmth you provided.

Meanwhile, Natasha observed from a distance, a pang of envy stirring within her. She watched as you comforted Wanda, offering the kind of care and tenderness that the redhead secretly longed for herself.

As Wanda began to relax under your gentle ministrations, Natasha couldn't help but approach, her curiosity getting the better of her.

"Is she okay?" Natasha inquired softly, her eyes flickering between you and Wanda.

"Yeah, she just slipped into her little space," you explained, shooting Natasha a reassuring smile. "She'll be alright, though."

Natasha nodded, but the jealousy still gnawed at her, a silent reminder of her own unspoken desires.

Feeling a sudden urge to help, Natasha joined you and Wanda, offering her assistance.

"Can I help?" Natasha asked, her voice gentle.

"Of course, Nat. Can you grab her favorite stuffed animal from her room?" you suggested.

Natasha nodded and disappeared momentarily, returning with Wanda's beloved toy. She handed it to Wanda with a soft smile, and Wanda's face lit up at the sight of it.

With Natasha's help, you continued to comfort Wanda, ensuring she felt safe and loved in her vulnerable state.

Later, when you and Natasha found yourselves alone, Natasha couldn't resist commenting on your compassion.

"Hey, I just wanted to say… you're really good with her," Natasha admitted, a hint of admiration in her voice.

"Thanks, Nat. I just want to make sure she feels safe and loved," you replied sincerely.

Natasha nodded, but there was a sadness in her eyes that you couldn't quite place.

"Are you okay?" you asked, sensing her unease.

Natasha forced a smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just tired, I guess."

You accepted her answer, but couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to Natasha's emotions than she let on.

As the evening wore on, Natasha's jealousy and insecurity continued to fester, gnawing at her from the inside out. Feeling overwhelmed, she excused herself from the common area and retreated to the solitude of her room.

Alone in the dimly lit space, Natasha paced back and forth, her mind swirling with conflicting emotions. She knew she shouldn't let herself succumb to her little space, that she needed to remain strong and in control. But the more she fought against it, the more the longing tugged at her heartstrings.

"I can't let this happen," she muttered to herself, clenching her fists in frustration. "I have to stay in control."

But the more she fought against it, the stronger the pull became, until Natasha found herself sinking onto her bed, her resolve crumbling like sand between her fingers. Tears pricked at her eyes as she surrendered to the overwhelming tide of emotion.

"I'm sorry," she whispered to no one in particular, feeling the weight of her own inadequacy bear down upon her.

Meanwhile, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled in the pit of your stomach. Natasha's sudden disappearance hadn't gone unnoticed, and you knew that she was struggling with something deeper than she let on.

Determined to offer her support, you made your way to her room, the hallway stretching out before you like an endless expanse of uncertainty. With each step, your concern grew, mingling with a sense of urgency that propelled you forward.

Standing before Natasha's closed door, you took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what lay ahead. You raised your hand and knocked softly, the sound echoing in the silence of the hallway.

"Natasha?" you called out tentatively, your voice barely above a whisper. "Are you in there?"

Inside the room, Natasha's heart skipped a beat at the sound of your voice. She hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to respond. But deep down, she knew that she couldn't keep her struggles hidden forever.

"Come in" she said softly, so soft that you almost missed it.

As you stepped into Natasha's room, your eyes fell upon her huddled form on the bed, her posture small and vulnerable. For a moment, you were taken aback, the sight of Natasha in her little state catching you completely off guard.

"Natasha?" you murmured softly, your voice laced with genuine surprise. "I… I didn't realize…"

But before you could finish your sentence, you noticed the way Natasha's shoulders tensed, her expression shifting from vulnerability to embarrassment. It was as if she had been caught in a moment of weakness, a side of herself she had never intended for anyone to see.

Feeling a pang of guilt for intruding upon her private moment, you quickly reassured her, "It's okay, Natasha. You don't have to explain anything to me."

But Natasha recoiled slightly, her gaze averted as she wrapped her arms around herself protectively. She felt exposed, as if the carefully constructed walls she had built around herself had crumbled to dust, leaving her vulnerable and exposed.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't mean for you to see me like this."

You approached her slowly, your movements gentle and deliberate as you reached out a hand to offer her comfort. "It's okay, Natasha," you repeated softly. "You don't have to apologize for being yourself."

But Natasha couldn't shake the feeling of shame that gnawed at her from within. She had spent so long hiding this part of herself from the world, afraid of being judged or rejected. And now, with you standing before her, seeing her at her most vulnerable, she couldn't help but feel a sense of overwhelming inadequacy.

As you sat beside Natasha on the bed, a sense of determination washed over you. You refused to let Natasha grapple with her inner turmoil alone, especially now that you knew about this vulnerable side of her.

With gentle determination, you wrapped your arms around Natasha, pulling her into a comforting embrace. She tensed at first, still feeling the weight of embarrassment and shame, but gradually, she began to relax into your touch, allowing herself to be held.

"I'm here for you, Natasha," you whispered softly, your voice a soothing balm to her wounded soul. "You don't have to face this alone."

Natasha's breath hitched as tears welled up in her eyes, the floodgates of emotion threatening to overwhelm her. But you held her steady, offering her the strength and support she so desperately needed.

With a trembling hand, you brushed away her tears, your touch gentle and reassuring. "Let me take care of you," you murmured, your words a promise of unwavering love and support.

As Natasha nestled into your comforting embrace, her vulnerability laid bare before you, you knew that she needed more than just words of reassurance. With tender care, you gently brushed her hair away from her tear-stained cheeks, your touch eliciting a soft sigh from her trembling lips.

"Shh, it's okay, Natasha," you whispered soothingly, your voice a gentle melody in the quiet of her room. "You're safe here with me."

Natasha's breath hitched as she struggled to contain her emotions, but with your steady presence by her side, she began to relax into your embrace, allowing herself to be held.

In a moment of instinctive tenderness, you brought your thumb to your lips, offering it to Natasha. At first, she hesitated, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment, but you urged her gently, encouraging her to trust you.

"Here, Natasha," you murmured softly, your voice laced with warmth and affection. "It's okay to seek comfort in whatever way you need."

With a shaky breath, Natasha tentatively took your thumb into her mouth, her lips wrapping around it instinctively as she sought solace in the simple act of sucking. A sense of calm washed over her as she melted into your embrace, the rhythmic motion soothing her frayed nerves.

You smiled tenderly at her, your heart swelling with love and admiration for this strong and resilient woman who had entrusted you with her vulnerability. With each gentle stroke of your thumb against her lips, you offered her the comfort and care she so desperately needed, reaffirming your unwavering support for her.

And as Natasha nestled closer to you, her breathing slow and steady, you knew that in that moment, you had helped her find peace amidst the chaos of her inner turmoil. Together, you shared a bond that transcended words, a silent understanding forged in the crucible of vulnerability and acceptance.

With a contented sigh, Natasha closed her eyes, her grip on your thumb loosening as she drifted into a peaceful slumber. And as you held her close, you vowed to always be there for her, to offer her comfort and care whenever she needed it, for as long as she would have you by her side.

-----

As Natasha stirred from her peaceful slumber, she blinked groggily, the remnants of sleep still clinging to her mind. Her heart skipped a beat as she realized she was no longer nestled in your comforting embrace, a sense of panic threatening to overtake her.

Frantically, she scanned the room, her eyes darting around in search of your familiar presence. But to her dismay, you were nowhere to be found, leaving her feeling abandoned and alone once more.

A wave of sadness washed over Natasha as she struggled to contain her rising emotions. Just when she thought she had found solace in your care, you had disappeared without a trace, leaving her feeling more vulnerable than ever before.

With a heavy sigh, Natasha felt herself slipping back into her little space, her defenses crumbling as she sought refuge from the overwhelming sense of abandonment. She curled up on the bed, her thumb finding its way to her lips once more as she sought comfort in the familiar ritual.

But just as Natasha was on the brink of succumbing to her inner turmoil, the sound of footsteps echoed in the hallway, drawing her attention away from her troubled thoughts. Hope blossomed in her chest as she heard the familiar sound of your voice, dispelling the darkness that threatened to consume her.

And then, to her immense relief, you appeared in the doorway, a warm smile gracing your lips as you greeted her with a tender gaze.

"Hey, Natasha," you said softly, your voice filled with warmth and affection. "I'm sorry I was gone for a moment. I just needed to use the washroom."

As Natasha took in your reassuring presence, a sense of calm washed over her, dispelling the last traces of her anxiety. She felt a surge of gratitude for your unwavering support, knowing that no matter how lost she felt, you would always be there to guide her through the darkness.

With a contented sigh, Natasha reached out to you, her small hand seeking yours in a silent gesture of gratitude and affection. And as you took her hand in yours, a sense of peace settled over her, knowing that with you by her side, she could weather any storm that came her way. As you sat beside Natasha, her hand in yours, a question lingered at the forefront of your mind. With a gentle squeeze of her hand, you summoned the courage to voice your curiosity.

"Natasha," you began softly, "do you know why you went into your little space earlier?"

Natasha's breath caught in her throat at your question, her heart racing with uncertainty. She had never intended for you to find out about this vulnerable side of her, and now that you were asking her about it, she felt a wave of apprehension wash over her.

"I... I don't know," she murmured hesitantly, her gaze flickering away from yours. "I guess... I guess I just felt overwhelmed."

You studied her carefully, sensing that there was more to her answer than she was letting on. "Is there something else, Natasha?" you pressed gently, your voice filled with concern.

Natasha hesitated for a moment, her mind racing as she grappled with her inner turmoil. But then, with a shaky breath, she found the courage to speak her truth.

"I... I've always wanted to hide my little space from everyone," she admitted quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't want anyone to know about this vulnerable side of me, especially not you."

The confession hung heavy in the air between you, a silent acknowledgment of Natasha's deepest fears and insecurities. And in that moment, you realized just how much she had been struggling, how much she had been hiding from you all this time.

"I'm sorry, Natasha," you murmured softly, your heart aching for her pain. "I had no idea."

But to your surprise, Natasha offered you a small smile, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "It's okay," she whispered, her voice filled with gratitude. "You couldn't have known."

A silence passed between you, and you could sense that she was debating on whether to tell you, so you stayed quiet, and waited.

As Natasha gathered her courage to share her feelings, she took a deep breath, her eyes meeting yours with a mixture of vulnerability and determination.

"I… I need to tell you something," she began softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

You listened intently, your heart pounding in your chest as you waited for Natasha to speak.

"I was… I was jealous of Wanda," Natasha admitted, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "When I saw you with her, offering her comfort… I couldn't help but feel envious."

Her confession took you by surprise, a pang of guilt tugging at your heart as you realized the impact your actions had unknowingly had on Natasha.

"I'm sorry, Natasha," you murmured softly, reaching out to take her hand in yours. "I didn't mean to make you feel that way."

But Natasha shook her head, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. "It's not your fault," she reassured you gently. "I know you were just trying to help."

You studied her carefully, a sense of admiration swelling within you at her honesty and vulnerability. Despite her struggles, Natasha had found the courage to open up to you, to share her deepest fears and insecurities.

"Natasha," you began tentatively, your voice filled with sincerity, "I want you to know that I'm not Wanda's actual caregiver. I was just there to offer her comfort when she needed it."

To your relief, Natasha's smile widened, her eyes sparkling with understanding. "I know," she replied softly. "And I'm sorry for jumping to conclusions."

With a sense of relief washing over you, you reached out to squeeze Natasha's hand in yours, a silent gesture of solidarity and support.

"Natasha," you whispered, your voice barely above a whisper, "would you let me be your caregiver? Not just as a friend, but as something more?"

For a moment, Natasha's breath caught in her throat, her eyes widening in surprise at your heartfelt request. But then, to your immense relief, she nodded, a radiant smile spreading across her face.

"Yes," she whispered, her voice filled with warmth and affection. "Yes, I would like that very much."

[cvlutos]

“My Wingless Dove”

| Repost: 02.19.2023 | 1.2K | Mature Audiences |

Yandere!Diasomnia X GN!Reader [TWST: VAMPIRE AU]

Dark Content | Characters 18+ | Stalking | Kidnapping | Yandere | Blood | Forced Feeding | Implied Abuse/Violence | Etc | Proceed with Caution, Dearest.

Book.Summary: Dont walk into abandoned homes, even if the weather is bad, for there may be vampires living there that just love humans.

You’re pretty.

You’re pretty.

So pretty that it worries us to death when you come barreling into our home, fumbling through the door with heaving breaths, pounding heart, and rushing veins, so loud and so full of life. You kick the door closed desperately, blindly throwing yourself deep into the dark and what you assume—abandoned—home.

You’re far too pretty to live in such fear.

You make a home for yourself, using the old dusty library as yours, what we wish would be your forever home. Using broken floorboards as wood. Though you aren’t fully aware of our presence, that’s alright. You don’t need to worry about the peering, deep reddish-magenta glowing eyes that watch you from afar. Eyes that you swear you see as you prepare your dinner. Or as you sleep, gentle touches of flesh brush against the apple of your cheeks, or the exposed chest of your collarbone.

Don’t worry about the glaring eyes that watch you from afar as you search the forest for your food, silently protecting you. Do not worry when you see green eyes and that of a tall silhouette watching you from the far corners, only for you to blink and it’s gone. You’re pretty. They only want to admire you.

══════ ♡ ══════

The deep red eyes are first to greet you.

First to catch your attention. First to frighten you. Even if he doesn’t mean to., you’re just too cute, such a sweet, defenseless person, living amongst four beings that are far stronger, faster, hungrier. Far more than you could ever be. You’re fascinating and he lets you know of his existence. He wants you to know he’s around, devoted to you, as he is the prince.

You have dreams of a soft, monotone voice.

Hearing him whisper to you to sleep well, to have pleasant dreams. He is the one you should trust most, the one who understands you the most. Even though mortality is so from him. That’s alright, you are simply a glimpse of what he once was, and he adores you for that. You represent that part of him that was once human.

The glare from afar still scorns you.

He makes you feel unwanted, unneeded, foreign—an intruder. Well, in a way, you are. You stumble into their home, into the home of the prince, and make it your little hovel. He’s annoyed, disgusted, for you represent the side of him that will always be human. That will never change. He hates that about you, yet he can’t find it in his unbeating heart to allow any harm to come to you. Maybe he isn’t as detached from humanity as he claims.

The tall silhouette that scares you still.

He wishes you didn’t fear him. He wishes you’d simply waltz into his arms, sway gently against him and with him. He craves for you to step into the shadow to see him and acknowledge him for being safe, to see that he wouldn't harm you. He cares for you as a lover would. Even if you don’t love him yet, you will. Eventually, you will. As all things take time and you, darling, will have all the time in the world.

══════ ♡ ══════

“If I could simply stop time in this moment—without having to change not a single part of you—I truly wish I could.”

His words are merely wind to air as you sleep, blissful and unaware. You are as if the sun had been given for him to hold and cherish, a blessing, a gift. So strong, yet so destructive. So painful for he knows if he touches you, he melts. Burns. He’s alright with that.

You had in passing, talking to the ancient pictures on the walls of your soon departure. Something that Malleus can't bear to stand. You can’t go free of them. Of him. Not now. Nor ever. For he knows like a flower that only blooms once within its lifetime, would soon disappear. He refuses. You will be there for his lifetime, all his lifetimes. He wants nothing more.

“My Prince... what is it you desire?”

You.

The answer is you.

You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You.

It will always be you.

You spilled your blood today as you explored the vast forests. Bring them each nearly to their knees, salivating desperately. Like a flavor that they knew not of, yet still yearned for centuries. Surely, you’d indulge them. Silver gently lowers your form onto the massive bed, treating you so delicately, like glass.

You should feel so loved. So wanted. Even when you awaken and you thrash against Sebek’s tight embrace, cursing him—begging him to release you, pleading with him to let you go. As Lilia forces your mouth open to feed you, as you kick and scream.

You will come to understand our love.

As Silver nearly suffocated you in his chest, rocking you slowly as Malleus reads fairytale stories to you.

You’ll get over how cruel I am. As I read, you tales of freedom, or escape, of adventures, that you could never go on.

“You’ll understand why I did what I did, my little wingless dove.”

ⓒ 2023 love-thanatopsis — all rights reserved. Any sort of plagiarizing, copying, modifying, translating, editing of my works are strictly prohibited.

[sm-baby]

"Freakshow!Caine gonna get destroyed"

"(Detailed or even just snippets of explaining why he'd hold his weight and why he holds a title of god already if this base was weak he'd be in no position of power he's in now he is Not weak)"

"Oh no ): Carnival!Pomni doesn't actually stand a chance"

You guys need to adopt some more complex understandings they can both be op as hell Especially in different ways making their strengths and weaknesses more unique and a challenge to overcome in each other's cases something I'd like to take in account I saw in passing that despite the fact Freakshow!Caine has been stared to be a powerhouse he values brain over brawn and Pomni an antivirus system has been described earlier if it cannot easily quarantine a virus it will trying to eradicate it with brute force this is One thing I have collected and am fascinated to see play out because this has been implied to be a brain vs brawn except the brain has godmode on and the brawn is at the moment a living computer lie obviously there's complexities I myself am leaving out and they definitely aren't equals but their strengths are maxed in different areas and you Know they're gonna exploit each other's unique weaknesses to one another this battle would be Sick as hell to watch go down no matter who is truly going to be the winner and even if it's revealed one of them never actually stood a chance I'd still put my money the other is going to knock the other down in a way it'd Never be easy to recover from physically or mentally though I doubt Caine would ever admit fear and Pomni... as nonsentient I'm so curious how that'd even take a toll on her other than the virus physically lingering in her constantly her antivirus always beating it down but it one step ahead like a nasty sickness she can't cure herself it's all just fascinating

YEP!!!!

YALL THATS WHAT MAKES IT F U N .. THEY'RE BOTH STRONG... LISTEN TO YOURSELF-

[soapyghostie]

Hiya! Hope you’re doing well! Just found your acc and I love all your stuff!! ^^

Not sure how to rq so I’m hoping i do this right-but please tyt !!

Could you do a young reader telling their favorite slasher(s) they wanna be like them when they grow up? (Ex Danny, Michael, Bubba, Legion… but can be anybody :] )

Awww! You’re so sweet Anon. I’m glad you like my stuff. It makes me happy. Anyways, here is your request! Hope you enjoy!

Michael Myers

You, unaware of the true extent of Michael Myers’ dark tendencies, approaches him with wide-eyed innocence. You are completely perplexed by him, a shrouded mystery, and your fascination with him is born out of a childlike curiosity. From a distance, you have observed Michael’s determination and relentless pursuit of his murderous goals. You admire his seemingly unstoppable nature, viewing him as a figure of strength and power.

Out of naivety, you express your desire to be like Michael when you grow up. You like how he embodies fearlessness and control, qualities you aspire to possess in your own life. 

Michael doesn’t understand why you want to be like him. Seriously, he’s literally a murderer. Sometimes even he wishes he wasn’t who he was, but it is what it is. He just can’t comprehend the innocence behind your words; he takes it too seriously. Plus, at this point, his perception of human emotions and desires is skewed by his own desire to kill, leading him to believe you're just trying to flatter him so he doesn’t kill you. He’s not gonna kill you because you're just a kid if you're wondering though; he doesn’t kill kids. 

In response, Michael remains eerily silent, his impassive mask betraying no hint of emotion. His lack of verbal response strikes you with greater fascination for the tall silent man. However, Michael may not communicate verbally, his mere presence serves as a silent warning of the possible dangers he could put you through. His cold, unyielding gaze conveys a sense of danger, hinting at the darkness that lurks beneath his outward facade. Despite your admiration, you start to feel uneasy under his presence. He just wants you to stop bothering him. It’s nothing personal; he’s just not really a fan of kids.

As you run off, you still remain blissfully unaware of the true depths of Michael’s wickedness. In your mind, he remains a symbol of strength and resilience, your admiration undiminished by the sinister reality of who Michael Myers truly is.

Jason Voorhees

You, unaware of Jason’s violent reputation around Camp Crystal Lake, approach him with an innocent admiration. To you, Jason is a larger-than-life type figure, shrouded in mere mystery and intrigue. Despite the fear Jason normally inflicts in others, you bravely approach him. Your innocent curiosity overrides any sense of any fear or anxiousness you feel. 

You would bombard Jason with questions, eager to learn more about his life and experiences. You ask about the mask, his immense strength, and the stories surrounding Crystal Lake. You would express your desire to be like Jason when you grow up, marveling at his formidable strength and resilience. Jason represents the power and invincibility that you hope to possess one day. 

Jason is taken aback by your desire to be like him. Despite his inability to communicate verbally, he silently contemplates the implications of your words, grappling with the notion that someone sees him as a role model.  

Sensing the innocence behind your words, Jason subtly imparts a lesson on morality. Through his actions, he’ll demonstrate that violence and vengeance are not paths that should be emulated, even if you idolize his strength and resilience.  

Before you depart from Jason, he offers you a small gift – a symbol of protection and guidance. He’d give you a teddy bear given to him by his mother when he was just a child like you, imbedded with his silent promise to watch over you from the shadows, guiding them down a path free from the darkness that consumes him.

Bubba Sawyer

You approach Bubba with wide-eyed innocence, unaware of the horror surrounding the infamous killer. To you, Bubba is akin to a hero from a storybook or comic, but looks much scarier. 

Bubba is confused when he sees the genuine admiration in your eyes. He’s hesitant as he is not used to such innocent expressions directed towards him. Normally, it’s always fear and horror he sees in someone’s eyes when they spot him. Bubba will make confused squealing noises as he tilts his head slightly, studying you while his chainsaw is held loosely at his side.  

Bubba would reach out to you tentatively, patting your head gently. His rough hands, stained with blood and grime from his gruesome work, offers a stark contrast to the tenderness of the gesture. Bubba’s emotions churn as he feels a sense of protectiveness towards you. You’re just so god damn cute that he can’t resist! He wants to shield you from the harsh realities of his existence. Yet, he knows all too well of how pointless it is to give into the aspirations of protecting you. 

Not wanting to harm you, Bubba squeals and gestures to his chainsaw to convey to you a warning. He really doesn’t want to turn you into meat. If he gets caught not trying to kill you, his brothers, especially Drayton, will force him to and he’d be very sad. There’s a sadness in his eyes, a silent acknowledgement of the innocence he can never reclaim. 

Before you escape the Sawyer property, Bubba will offer you his bracelet made out of bones that he always wears – a token of his affection. He’ll then give you a gruff nod of acknowledgement and lumbar away as if nothing happened as you live another day.

[pluviophile-imagines]

you are, undoubtedly, not the only person whose blood boils at the mention of alhaitham, but you think you might be the person who gets under his skin the most.

he bickers with many of his fellow scholars, certainly, yet you can’t say anyone else makes him so angry he can’t even speak the common tongue. every time you storm off after an argument you leave him muttering angrily in some unknown language.

still, he enjoys provoking you, especially on occasions where you’ve become so lost in your work that you haven’t seen him in days. this time you’ve fallen down a rabbit hole researching an ancient language, one renowned for its prose and eloquence and, most interestingly to you, romantic confessions of love. it’s been nearly a week since you’ve encountered anyone but the librarians; the subject is fascinating.

you return to the library one morning, however, to find that he’s taken the very book you’d put on hold—using his position to undermine your claim—and though the bait is obvious, you still rise to it. the spat which ensues is predictable, fast-rising and heated within the span of a few words. it ends in the pair of you nose-to-nose with him holding the book up out of your reach and your finger prodding angrily at his chest. when you turn and storm off, he sinks back down into the chair you’d found him in.

this time, however, when he begins to curse you under his breath, you understand it.

and it makes you freeze.

you hadn’t realized until this moment but the very language you’d been researching is what he spits at you after every dispute. and now that you have researched, you realize that what he has been muttering under his breath for many months now is a bewildering kind of confession.

“you drive me insane,” he growls, only just loud enough for you to make out the words. there’s a temptation to dismiss it, vague as the accusation could be, yet the next statement is far less ambiguous as he mutters it beneath his breath. “i can barely think around you, you vexing, brilliant thing, yet when you’re gone i can’t stand it.”

it freezes you in your path. you straighten and whirl about, eyes wide, mind a blur of surprise and warmth blossoming in your chest. warmth, which only increases when you catch another grumbled sentence, spat out like the insults you thought he’d been calling you, accompanied by an icy glare down at the very book he’d stolen.

“one day,” he snarls, entirely oblivious to how you’ve caught on, “i’ll shut you up by kissing you.”

“do it, then,” you’re saying before you can stop yourself, the words rushing out more confident than you truly feel.

he startles, head snapping up to meet your gaze, eyes just slightly wide enough to betray what he’s feeling. “what?”

if you didn’t know him so well you might mistake the near-invisible expression on his face for one of anger, but it’s shock. fear, even, if the man before you is even capable of being afraid. he watches, frozen where he sits with book in hand, as you stalk back towards him until you’re even closer than before, up against his chair; until you push even further with a knee upon it, sinking the plush of the cushion between his thighs.

leaning down is the obvious next step, bracing yourself on the arms of his chair, each hand a hairsbreadth away from brushing his forearms. looming over him like this is an odd kind of invigorating—he’s so tall and broad that this position is perhaps the only one that would allow it. and he stares up at you, somehow seeming even more frozen in place, that nearly imperceptible emotion on his face sliding smoothly into something you might be so bold as to call enrapture.

“kiss me. shut me up.” you cock your head and watch those striking eyes drop to your lips just as you add a final word, goading: “coward.”

a bulky arm slings itself around your waist, tugging you down roughly onto his lap and knocking that damned book from its perch. his lips are on yours before it can hit the ground.