#like. evil nostalgia. but nostalgia is evil too.

[yellowocaballero]

given how much you liked the prologue. how did you feel. about isat's act 6 twist,

MAJOR SPOILERS FOR ISAT

You know. It doesn't have to be prologue!Sif. It could be any Sif. There's obviously a multiverse's worth of Sifs. Who knows. Many Sifs out there are assholes waiting to clown on idiots. It doesn't have to be something that makes me sad. Who knows. I don't know. It's ambiguous.

I do remember not liking Loop's presence at first, because it felt significant in prologue that Sif was all alone. But it was also significant that ISAT!Sif wasn't alone, because he escaped and Loop didn't. The difference that one person can make in a life - the difference that not being all alone in the world can make - is wildly significant. ISAT had a happy ending because of the tremendous amounts of suffering that had to happen. Some lessons can only be learned through pain. Or maybe pain is inevitable, because avoidable pain happens and creates a rippling domino effect of years of inevitable pain, and the best we can do is try and learn something from them. Try and make the life of the next person who comes after you better.

Also, shout out to the absolute truth that for some people, there's nobody they hate more than themselves. Nobody is more self-destructive than Sif, and I see why Sif was willing to destroy the life of another version of him in a way that I don't think they would ever do to anybody else. But Loop still willingly put themselves back in the time loop for a Sif they didn't even know. I think they were still somebody who wanted to help. Maybe just to steal Sif's life, but - I don't think so, you know!

I was very surprised by the twist, but upon reflection it made a lot of sense. I like the fact that most of the game was about Sif's relationship with their friends, but that the very end is about Sif's relationship with themselves - and that, as their friends were able to forgive him, he was able to forgive himself. Being saved by others allows you to save others too, and seeing Sif receive that love and thereby have the ability to give it was very nice.

Did make me sad, though. Doesn't HAVE to be the prologue!Sif, is what I'm saying. But I can see it. They weren't a kind person by the end of it. That happens sometimes. They'll be happy again one day, I think.

[cloud-based-and-rainpilled]

Unfortunately I loved the dangerously heterosexual Wonka movie so I gotta turn in my gay card. I’m so sorry

[starlightomatic]

.

[bootyful-seventeen]

YALL I GOT A DVD PLAYER AT WALMART AN HOUR AGO AND STARTED CRYING WHEN I POPPED IN THE BARBIE IN RAPUNZEL DVD

[neep-neep-neep]

forspoken is literally not that bad some of you haven't been battling an illness, unemployed, and deriving meager enjoyment from Wild Arms XF and Valhalla Knights on PSP while your parents fight in the next room

[petesex]

not to be weird but i remember there used to fob blogs where the bloggers didnt seem to actually like the boys and would constantly be criticizing them and back in the day i was a teen and was like why are you even here then and now im like 2 steps away from becoming that

[tpwrtrmnky]

hindsight

[ID: A two-panel comic with crudely drawn stick figures.

Panel 1: The lime green person is talking to the leaf green person and the moss green person.

Lime: "I... have a confession to make."

Leaf: "Go ahead."

Lime: "I want to rewatch the Wizard Child movies."

Leaf: "Didn't the wizard author get incredibly chromophobic?"

Lime: "Yeah I just... It's nostalgia you know? They meant a lot to me when I was a kid."

Panel 2: The three are on the couch.

Lime: "All right, let's go."

Leaf: "It's so weird how the wizard author just turned chromophobic though. Like I remember this series being pretty good for its time. It'll be weird seeing their work contrasting with their views now."

Moss: "I'm just glad we got the movies for free through normal and legal means. Heh."

End ID.]

[ID 2: Scenes from three Wizard Child movies.

Wizard Child and the Simplistic Morality: A slightly round child with a propeller hat is talking to a child with no hat.

Round child: "I am so fucking fat and greedy I am textually shown to be fat because I am greedy and also evil."

Hatless child: "You are to infer my moral purity from juxtaposition with this fat child. Woe is me for our shared parent has deprived me of a propeller hat."

Wizard Child and the Goodness of Wealth: An adult wizard is talking to the child, who now has a wizard hat.

Wizard Adult: "Wizard child you are secretly extremely rich."

Wizard Child: "I will form biases regarding the bankers all being triangular for some reason!"

Wizard Adult: "Your wealth is deserved because your true parent was Good and therefore you are also Good."

Wizard Child: "Now we should acquire consumer goods. Buy consumer goods!"

Wizard Child and the Dark Family History: A blue-grey horse person is talking to the wizard child.

Blue-grey: "No, wizard child. You don't understand. I am one of the good ones, because unlike the bad ones I don't try to spread my curse that makes you a blue-grey horselike creature to others!"

Wizard child: "Wow uncle blue-grey you are one of the good ones! I forgive you for being a horse because I am so good I would even forgive horses. I sure hope you don't conspicuously get killed off later in this movie!"

End ID 2.]

[ID 3: Oh hell no there are even more of these.

Wizard Youth and the Tokenistic Relationship Dynamics: A square headed wizard youth is talking to the former wizard child, now a wizard youth.

Square Wizard Youth: "Wizard child, as the only person with a square head in this entire series it is my duty to inform you that you are the savior of all people with square heads, too. Let us build a one-sided relationship that only furthers your character development, after which I will immediately lose all plot relevance."

Wizard Youth: "I will do this because I am a maturing wizard youth and need disposable relationships that don't threaten the endgame!"

Wizard Youth and the Escalation of Stakes: The Dark Wizard, a sort of grey-green person with a cloak, is pointing at Wizard Youth.

Dark Wizard: "Wizard Youth, I have returned!"

Wizard Youth: "Dark Wizard! Why are you green now?"

Dark Wizard: "Evil magic made me green! I am green with envy towards all who are good!"

Wizard Youth: "I will not engage with how you are clearly based on fascist ideologies and yet this narrative plays into fascist aesthetic sensibilities!"

Wizard Youth and the Post-Hoc Revelations: The Wizard Youth is leaning over their Wizard Mentor, who is laying in a pool of blood.

Wizard Youth: "Wizard Mentor no! You can't die!"

Wizard Mentor: "It is fine, wizard youth. My death will further your character development into a wizard adult. Also, I was secretly a very very dark purple this entire time. I never brought it up so I could retain narrative approval.

End ID 3.]

[ID 4: Wizard Adult and the Overdue Conclusion. Three panels. I am sorry.

Panel 1: The dark wizard is dueling the Wizard Adult with magic beams.

Dark Wizard: "Evil green beam!"

Wizard Adult: "Good red beam! Despite the enormous variety of magic in this series this is what our final battle looks like!"

Panel 2: Wizard Adult stands victorious over the dark wizard, who is dying on the ground.

Wizard Adult: "In the end, dark wizard, you were defeated because I am morally superior to you."

Dark Wizard: "I was a product of systemic failures. There will be someone like me again someday!"

Panel 3: Zoom in on wizard adult, who says:

"Not if I can help it. Because I am going to be a wizard cop now. The moral of this story is that all systemic issues can be solved by finding a bad guy to beat."

End ID 4.]

[ID 5: Four panels.

Panel 1: Return to the green trio on their couch, watching the TV say "The End." All are are silent.

Panel 2: They are sitting on the couch. Moss is looking at their phone.

Lime: "Yeah so there were maybe a few signs we missed because we were children."

Leaf: "Yeah. A few. Some."

Panel 3: Continue conversation.

Lime: "So what did you think, Moss?"

Panel 4: Zoom in on Moss, who says: "I've been zoned out on my phone since the second movie. They lost me at the magic stuff. Wizards aren't real."

End ID 5.]

Start - Previous - Next

[bluefuecoco]

...with the knowledge that i can probably emulate ps2 games on my steam deck as well, maybe i'll be able to finally relive my childhood

[sunderwight]

A fun prospect for Superhero-themed SV AU's that I don't often see is genre dissonance. Like, Luo Binghe as this edgy 90's style antihero who just straight up kills his enemies and sleeps around and is driven by selfish motives (revenge, ambition, etc) rather than altruistic morality, vs Shen Qingqiu as this kid-friendly supervillain who is "evil" mostly in terms of aesthetics and his ability to make inconvenient problems that are reasonably safe for child heroes to solve. Something like Punisher vs Team Rocket in terms of vibes.

Maybe the reason they meet is because some big publishing house akin to Marvel or DC just bought up the rights to whole bunch of older, discontinued comics titles, and decided to do a Justice League/Avengers style mash-up with a bunch of nostalgia properties and their most recognizable heroes and villains. Which means lots of crossovers condensing several titles into a handful of series.

Luo Binghe's origin always features him as a teenager, so he reboots as the youngest Avenger-equivalent team member in the new continuity. Even in this reboot, however, the writers still mostly go the gritty and dark route with his plots and stick to the same key developments -- his abandonment as an infant, his adoptive mother's tragic death, his tough life on the streets, abusive mentors and backstabbing "allies", and so on.

But Luo Binghe's life suddenly starts experiencing periods of dramatic change in his life when he's brought in for appearances in the lighter, friendlier world of the Junior Heroes continuity. After all, he's a natural choice for tying the two continuities together thanks to his youthfulness. Luo Binghe isn't consciously aware of the fact that he's moving between different titles and different writers. All he knows is that sometimes, when he hangs out with the bright and talented Ning Yingying, he's drawn into "conflicts" with Shen Qingqiu -- the kind of "villain" who will call for tea breaks, never actually hits anyone when he shoots his ray gun, leaves clues for all of his crimes, and can't seem to stop from imparting genuinely helpful advice in between his witty quips and taunts.

When Luo Binghe fights Shen Qingqiu, somehow he never actually gets hurt. Neither do any of his friends. The world in general seems brighter and lighter, as if there is some secret barrier protecting everyone from all the evils Binghe knows only too well exist in the rest of his life. Luo Binghe is increasingly convinced that Shen Qingqiu is the source of this mystical safety net. After all, for an allegedly powerful genius who is able to fool half the world about his wicked aims, he's never won a single fight against a kindhearted but somewhat ditzy teenager and her ragtag bunch of friends!

So what's he spending his actual energy on?

Luo Binghe is pretty sure it's keeping the real evils at bay. Making himself the biggest bad in town, and in doing that, making it so that the "biggest bad" is nothing worse than a slightly judgmental teacher in a pretty costume.

It's not long before Luo Binghe doesn't want to go back to the Justice League equivalent, to his world of misery and strife, even after his visits with Ning Yingying are supposed to be over. Especially as the global stakes of various heroic activities start getting higher, and it becomes clear that the boundary between Shen Qingqiu's safe world and the grimdark reality of Binghe's usual life are getting thinner...

[godjo]

✮ — altar girl.

hasn’t it been written that wherever the fire of evil blazes, a god will be there to douse it? but who saves the damned if a god kindled the fire?

tags — true form!sukuna x concubine/f!reader. 3k wc. explicit smut. dubcon at first (trust me in this one pls). exhibitionism. thigh riding. doggy style. manhandling. rough sex. womb fucking. humongous cock!sukuna (hello???). multiple orgasms. mindbreak. drool. cunnilingus bordering on tongue-fucking. orgasm denial once. he carries you. creampie. lots of cum. fuckton of religious symbolism. physical violence against the reader but not from sukuna. sukuna calls you brat like one time. minors, ageless, and blank blogs dni.

from hunter — not to be dramatic or whatever but i do feel like this fic took a huge chunk off of my sanity … the things i do for sukuna omg … if this flops i will officially retire from tumblr /j + also it's 3 am for me so i didn't proofread the last bits and i prolly got lazy ... ha ha ... ✮

gods exist. 

the annals of history tell us so.

they exist in a way that no mortal can comprehend, for a god is more than a face. they leave their imprints not with their feet but with the rise and fall of dynasties, the ruination of empires, and the death of kings. they materialize as the birth of a deluge and they rise as the reason for war. it is not the body that proves their existence but the carnage they leave behind. 

they have manifested before human eyes through myriad guises, and once again incarnated in the flesh of ryomen sukuna. 

many have met their untimely demise at his hands; he walks the earth with their tormented souls at his feet. from village to village, their numbers increased until a procession of weeping thickened behind him. hundreds of graves mark the land since his advent, and yet the heavens remain deaf to the hysterical prayers for justice. only he can hear the prayers; only he laughs at them. 

they say he is a devil. you say he is a god. because only a god can saturate the earth with blood and emerge unpunished from such transgression. hasn’t it been written that wherever the fire of evil blazes, a god will be there to douse it? but who saves the damned if a god kindled the fire? 

ryomen sukuna, in a form of some twisted mockery, decides to act the part. and so like every famished god, he demands a sacrifice to satisfy his voracious appetite. you would think that a house of gold would placate his hunger for blood, but riches mean nothing to him. his appetite needs flesh and it is flesh he got. 

“have i been too lenient that you’d dare fight amongst yourselves when i’m not around?” his voice reverberates inside the room. low, guttural, and pregnant with malice. it is enough to scorch everyone’s lungs with tension. 

you want to run away from this nightmare. go back to the peaceful bliss of mundanity when sukuna is only a piece of horrifying tale used to frighten children and not an absolute being seated cross-legged mere inches away. you try transporting your mind back to the days before his pillaging, before your village succumbed to his authority. yet his pervasive presence obstructs all your pathetic attempts at nostalgia. 

“look at what you did to the poor girl.” two of his four hands sweep you from your position to his lap, parading you to the rest of tearful eyes looking at him with entreaty. 

and it stings— their eyes. you’re in the claw of a savage hound from hell, ready to be devoured, with only your hadajuban as protection. even in this pitiful state, they offer no sympathy. their tears are for themselves alone despite their cruelty being the reason for your shared plight.

selfish bitches. 

“was it jealousy that caused this infighting? have i not divided my attention to all of you equally?” sukuna continuously taunts, lacing his voice with poisonous prudence. he fools no one and that’s what urges him forward. everyone knows that his seemingly laidback attitude is plain derision. nonetheless, he tastes the lingering hope in each of your faces before dragging his teeth along such pathetic daydreams.

“y… you have, my lord,” one of the women answers, her voice betraying a noticeable stutter. “if you would permit me to speak, i can offer his lordship an explanation for what transpired in the courtyard.”

sukuna emits a languid sigh as he rests his cheek upon his fist. he runs a rough hand down your arm, triggering vibration in the pit of your stomach. his hand is as huge as your face, his fingers long enough to snap your neck with ease. despite the surge of terror, you fight the urge to retch.

after a moment of battling your dread, it’s repulsion that filled you afterwards. repulsion rising from the woman’s explanation for your wretched state. the rest of the women nod their heads along with her account of how you tripped on a slippery stone multiple times, causing your current injuries, as if you’re a toddler who cannot orient her legs properly. 

they will save themselves with falsehood. 

sukuna yawns after the woman’s narration. his set of eyes seeking you after in the silence. 

“this matter is of your stupidity, then? you’ve wasted my time, brat.” he dips his cadence in amusement and disgust. 

anger flares within you, filling your nose and ears with the bitter scent of hatred, yet its heat descended down your throat, dampening your ability to defend yourself. what is one against many? there are twenty concubines in this room and nineteen of them just sold you to your demise for unintentionally raising this trifle to the lord of the land.

all of this— all of this merely because they have immersed themselves in playing a game in which you’ve been excluded since your arrival. after all, you’re just another competition for sukuna’s attention. 

“have mercy, my lord,” you whisper, on the verge of losing your sentience. “i… i mean no disrespect. it’s… it’s stupid of me—”

sukuna drawls, “speak no more of your nonsense. i have heard enough.” 

distressed apologies race past your mouth, along with entreaties that he spares your life. but you should’ve known that a god won’t turn his back on the sacrifice of blood. 

thus, when his enormous body finally moves to encase your fragility, you close your eyes and with jittering teeth have accepted your fate. you wait for the final release of death, a snap or his fist through your heart, but none came. instead, at your feet lay your torn garments, casting your nakedness before the other concubines in a humiliating display. the crisp air blows against your nipples, causing them to pucker tight. the same air turns your blood gelid, your bones immovable. 

“now, let’s see what all the fuss is about.” from behind, sukuna gropes your breasts, swirling the tips of your nipples with his fingers. “i’ll kill anyone who looks away.” the warning is vehement, ripe with threat, that even mere insects won’t dare defy it. 

is this the ultimate act of worship? to be stripped of all your layers? to be eaten?

his lips latch onto the bareness of your neck, sharp teeth dragging across the skin. the silence is thick, saved for the sound of your uneven breathing and the rustling of fabric as the concubines shift uncomfortably on their seats. sukuna’s wet and unusually long tongue starts licking the base of your shoulder to the back of your ear, before placing his thick and robust thigh between your quivering legs. 

your exposed cunt sticks to his skin, pussy folds flapping open. with practiced ease, as if manipulating the strings of a marionette, he subtly guided your movements. he has your pulsing clit riding the ridges of his thigh as if gushing all over will save you from inevitable demise. 

“m… mhm!” no longer entirely in control of your own form, you turn and sway in a helpless dance to his hands’ command. a gasp tinged with surprise and undeniable pleasure, escapes your lips and echoes softly in the confines of the room. you feel the searing heat of the concubines’ gazes drilling into you, a tangible weight of disapproval and something more primal — a flicker of envious fascination.

“for a condemned woman, aren’t you loving this too much?” sukuna takes the reins to your body. with speed that has your heavy tits bouncing, he secures your waist and drags your slick pussy faster and more recklessly. 

pleasure, sharp and electric at first, surges through your core, blossoming outwards like a firework. your cunt clenches and unclenches involuntarily, a delicious tremor wracking your body. the world narrows, sound and sight fading at the edges as every nerve ending sings with a single, glorious purpose. slowly, the intensity ebbs to leave a pleasant afterglow that paints your limbs with a newfound weight.

you’re but a tiny speck compared to sukuna’s imposing body; a feeble creature under the jurisdiction of a god. 

possessive hands have found you in your fleeting refuge, scooping your lower body up like you weigh nothing. with the tip of his finger he traces the curve of your spine, pressing enough weight to flatten your stomach against the tatami mat. 

“even your back is filled with lacerations,” he points out brusquely.

sukuna’s hefty cock drops to the base of your spine, its puffed up cocktip lazily pulsing to leak his thick liquids of pre-ejaculate. it must’ve been a whole arm laying heavy against your spine, warm with a gluttonous desire to ram itself through the sloppy confines of your pussy. 

and you lay there, waiting for his teeth and his claws and his animalistic hunger to devour. he presses his chest to your back, filling your ears with promises that he’s going to feed on you, eat you down to the marrow of your bones— and you’ll love it. 

“look at them,” sukuna hisses as he tugs at your forehead, “i want you to look at them while i fuck you.”

with your flesh you’ve received him like some kind of communion from root to tip. he hammers your cunt with his cock, until the heat of his savage lust reaches the pit of your belly. you feel his warmth soiling your cervix and uterus with every vigorous thrust. 

“oh! m… mhm!”  completely overtaken by sukuna, your thighs can only twitch as he destroys your insides. 

“you’re soaking wet,” he groans in your ear, deliberately adjusting his pace so he can coat his thick girth all over with your creamy hole, “and so fucking tight.” 

sukuna grunts like a wounded animal each time his cocktip kisses the smooth spot of your womb. a sheen of sweat glazes his body, tattoos aglow in the lanterns, from manically fucking your cunt. he bares his fangs whenever you tighten around his shaft enfolded with prominent and proud veins. 

the once vibrant forms of the concubines, their faces alight with prurient interest, dissolve into a sea of indistinct shapes as fog descends upon your sight. you’ve been reduced to a babbling and drooling mess, unable to grasp the reality that you’re being mounted and fucked to madness before several witnesses.

sukuna extends his hand, searching for your abandoned clit during his primal need to turn your pussy to pulp. 

“there it is,” he breathes against your clammy cheek, satisfied at his discovery. 

“n… no! not there…!” you pant as the last thread of reason frays and snaps. 

a tempestuous force of pleasure sweeps through you, leaving behind a tremor that has shaken you to the core. around you, a kaleidoscope of colors and sensations spins until a guttural moan runs from your lips, delivered by the exquisite torment of rapture. your nails scrape desperately across the tatami mat, clinging at the remnants of spilled sanity. 

sukuna cackles at your desperation to find a moment’s reprieve. the roughened end of his fingers dip into your yielding flesh as he forcefully slams your pussy back to his cock.  

“you’re not going anywhere,” he pronounces frenziedly, his eyes blowing wide. sukuna’s desperation for release intensifies to the point where he’s blatantly manhandling you, brutalizing your cunt and his cock during the process of reaching zenith. flesh meets flesh, fervid thrusts after fervid thrusts, until he feels that familiar coil in his own stomach. 

sukuna plugs your abused cunt with inconceivable amounts of cum. his cock pulses wildly, shooting globules straight to your womb it’s almost physically possible to feel his viscous cum filling every crevice of your uterus. when he’s finally pulled out, ropy cum still links his raw cocktip to your pulsing pussy hole. despite such a mind-numbing culmination, sukuna’s cock refuses to yield. it springs up proudly, aching for another taste.  

“what a sight,” sukuna issues with cavernous and demonic utterance, pertaining to your body lying inert upon the tatami mat. he sweeps the sodden hair from his brow with a lordly air, his pride evident in the contemptuous curve of his lips. 

look at the state he’s reduced you to. his thick ejaculation pools around your lower body because your little pussy can’t hold all of him. with an indifferent shrug, sukuna lowers his formidable body to your level. and only when the malevolent glint in his eyes becomes apparent does the gravity of the situation dawn upon you.

he starts fucking your cunt with his tongue.

you grit your teeth in response as sukuna places your knees upon his shoulders, burying the slimy width of his tongue in your heated pussy. it’s no mere licking— he’s practically shoved his tongue up your gummy walls, toying with the warmth of his cum pooled in your poor cunt while simultaneously licking your puffed up clit. 

“o… oh! c… can’t— please, please!” drool seeps between your gritted cuspids after your hysterical plea.

pearlescent tears warm the corner of your eyes. your sensitivity from his rigorous fucking has not yet abated, but another swell of release approaches at a hand’s reach. down to your heart, the bundles of nerves and veins constrict painfully because it’s too much. you have nowhere else to put the pleasure— the imminent pinnacle will utterly ruin you.

i’m losing my mind

i’m losing my mind

i’m losing my mind—

when ecstasy is but a heartbeat away, sukuna withdraws, denying you the finality your body craves. as if saved from drowning, you suck in and grace your lungs with air only to be propelled back to the brink of delirium when he lifts you up from the floor like a breeze. 

with carnal ferocity, he seizes the meaty flesh of your haunches with two of his limbs, while the others secure your torso. there and there, sukuna slots his insatiable cock in your dribbling cunt; an act that he’s accomplished without effort because you’re so wet, he’s slid right in. 

everyone has witnessed sukuna’s cock abusing your tingling pussy; all can see how he bounces your tingling cunt along his stiff length without strain. 

“yes… squeeze my cock like the obedient girl you are,” he sibilates on your face, followed by a harsh chuckle. “you can’t hear me now, can you?”

the voice is a distant echo, barely perceptible to your waning senses. your body, devoid of strength, limps completely in sukuna’s embrace. he buries his face in the crooks of your damped neck, groaning and babbling as he ruts into your swollen pussy. 

“how come you’re still so fucking tight?”

hasn’t he prepared you for his sheer girth? hasn’t he stimulated your pussy enough to hug his cock smoothly and effortlessly? you’ve already coated his balls shiny with all the slick your cunt has produced, but sukuna’s chest tightens because you’re milking him with a viselike grip. 

yes, it is human that he’s even affected by this carnal desire. what more can he do? he feels faint with exultation merely by fucking you. 

sukuna pumps your pussy to the hilt with slow yet profound thrusts. he bares his teeth down the blade of your shoulder as the maelstrom of release engulfs him completely. battered by waves of ecstasy, he grunts with your flesh between his teeth, the rough sound reverberating deep from his belly.

you must’ve reached the peak with him— you absolutely cannot tell. the only thing that your puddled mind can grasp is the swirl of his potent cum in the pit of your womb and the endless pulse of your cunt as you struggle to accommodate his release. 

petrified and silent, the remaining concubines are as fixed in place as if struck by an immobilizing spell. yet they watch— they watch intently while sukuna’s cock throbs with white strings of cum dripping from your cunt hole down to his balls and thighs. a hefty amount pools beneath him, oozing from where the both of you are connected. 

the envy that consumed them is a silent, suffocating thing, a palpable presence thick enough to choke. this envy deepens as they witness the delicacy with which sukuna has placed your dormant body on his own tatami mat. they grit their teeth secretly, throwing every known curse your way. may your womb not bear the fruits of sukuna’s seed, they vehemently pray. 

for ryomen sukuna, it’s nothing but a moment’s weakness, a foreign string of unknown emotion that you’ve managed to evoke from him. and even though he’s beyond human grace, he’s wasted your body to his own satisfaction, it’s only right to touch you with his claws retracted.

“performance is over, my dearests,” sukuna announces while a smirk tugs at his lips. facing his concubines, he dons his fundoshi haphazardly that it barely covers what it means to hide. 

“w… what will become of her, my lord?” one dares to ask. 

a fleeting, imperious gaze from sukuna sweeps over you before ushering the women from the opulent chamber. “you shouldn’t worry yourselves about such trivial matters. she will meet her own reckoning by my hands.”

a wave of malicious satisfaction ripples through the group as they exchange covert nods. you’re already a dead woman. with poisonous glee, they bow before ryomen sukuna with their faces shaped in unbridled mirth. 

“make sure that my wives are accompanied home safely,” sukuna orders the nearest guards. he tastes their fear hanging heavy in the air just by being in his presence. oh, humans. 

as the group began to retreat, they cast over their shoulders a flurry of flirtatious farewells to the imposing sukuna. however, before they could vanish entirely from sight, his deep voice cut through their progress.

“guards, before i forgot…” sukuna displays a grotesque smile filled with malice. “kill them all. i want nineteen heads on my feet tomorrow.”

they say he is a devil. 

you say he is a god. 

and despite all the names, sukuna has found himself a place of worship, with you as his altar. 

[dcxdpdabbles]

Cave boy Danny has way to much fun fucking with the bats after a while. Jason is too until Danny bites him after some unwanted human contact. Alfred gets a big wave of nostalgia when Danny does it too.

Danny can say that the Waynes have been ridiculously welcoming, all things considered. He still hasn't come clean about not being Bruce Wayne's alternative double, so to throw them off from finding out the truth and have a safe place to crash- he's missed plumbing- he has been invited to the Wayne Manor and has been lazing about when under their watch.

If there was one thing apparent, it was that Bruce Wayne did not laze about. It was mind-blowing to those who knew him to see Danny- a version of Bruce- act like walking across the room for a remote was too much work.

It drove them mad to see such a difference between them, and thus, none of the Waynes noticed Danny's side project to get home.

The Waynes gave him a giant room and helped set up a fake Identity for him while they worked on getting him home. To the public, he was Danny Kane, a long-lost relative recently coming to Bruce for help.

Thanks to the support of Jacob and Kate, they agree to make it seem that Jack Kane- Danny's made-up father- was the result of Bruce's material grandfather having a fling after his wife's death. Jake was hidden from the public eye but had his father's financial support until he was an adult.

Jack was never bitter and told Danny stories of his wayward father, filled with love to prove it. These stories inspired Danny to seek out the remaining Kanes after Jack's untimely death, which led him to Bruce as Martha Wayne nee Kane's son.

The day Danny would be sent home, the Waynes would fake his death, and no one would be the wiser that Danny Kane never existed.

Fine by Danny

. He only planned to stick around long enough to get his ship ready and pinpoint a location that had the vile between the living and dead thin enough to slice his way back to the Ghost Zone.

Unlike Wulf, who could open portals wherever he wanted, Danny had to find points weak enough to punch a hole through. He knows his parent's portal was way out of his set of skills, and he sure as hell wasn't going to give anyone the idea to build their own here. Two percent of portals were already two too many.

He mostly hung around the house- with someone always close by in a poor attempt to hide the fact they were watching him. Most of the time, Danny was either lazing around the house, eating and sleeping, and it felt like a costly vacation.

He refused to help on the coms when the Bats went out to kick ass, even after Dick offered to sit in front of monitors and relay information to the heroes like he was offering the chance of a lifetime.

This seems to disturb everyone else in the house except for Alfred.

If anything, the fact Danny straight-up refused to put on tights and rush into night to fight crime made Alfred adore him. The butler claimed he was worried everyone in the family would forget what everyday life was supposed to feel like.

A few Waynes couldn't seem to wrap their heads around the concept.

"You're not interested at all?" Tim asks, eyes narrowed. He was among the few who thought Danny was suspicious for not wanting to risk his life to fight the corrupted system.

"Nah, man, I'm good here. I got my nachos, I got a movie room and I got the softest bathrobe ever bathrobe." Danny snuggles more profoundly into the pink plush robe that Steph had lent him. "Why would I want to ruin any of these? Sides, I can't even throw a punch."

".....There has never been a single alternative Bruce Wayne that wasn't involved in this life in some way. If not as a hero then he was a villain. Bruce as a villain is one of the most dangerous things that can ever happen across the multiverse" Tim reveals grimly. "We've won every single encounter but only by the skin of our teeth."

"Damn. Let me guess. You guys beat the evil Bruces by sending his kids after him."

"Yes."

"Problem solve. You already know you can kick my ass, so if I try anything, you can take me out, right?" Danny doesn't wait for a answer. He turns away from the teenager to stare at the movie screen showing his picked movie. "I can do nothing but tremble before your bat might."

Tim steps into his line of sight. "I mean it. You do anything to harm this family and will regret it."

"Does that mean I can't bite Jason again? That sucks. It's the only way I can get him to stop trying to drag me to galas. He wants to scare the other rich people with my poor people's manners."

Tim's lip twitches and Danny knows he's fighting to keep his face under control. "You didn't have to lock your jaw in like that."

"I really did. Jason tested me."

Tim tilts his head. "You don't really feel like Bruce. You look just like him at fifteen. Alfred says you act just like him. But for the last three weeks, you've been trying really hard to make it seem like you're okay with doing nothing."

"I am comfortable doing nothing."

"I think you're lying," Tim says, moving closer to stare down into Danny's eyes with frankly a manic glare. Danny's core flares up with the sense of challenge he finds in that dark blue gaze.

Which is a first for a human, and frankly is terrifying. If Tim had been a ghost he would have easily been an Ancient assistant or a baby Ancient. He has to be able to match Danny's power like this. Holy shit.

"I think your parents didn't give you enough love as a child, and now you seek approval from everyone around you while trying to push everyone away because you are too scared to make yourself valuable. You find yourself in an endless loop of self-doubt and self-hate by doing both simultaneously." Danny blurts. He watches Tim freeze, then winces. "Shit, sorry, the psychoanalyze came out as a reflection. Forget that."

Tim is still frozen in a way Danny recognizes as someone hearing something challenging to come to terms with. This is why he needs to break the habit of using Jazz's psyche training as a weapon.

He forgets not everyone insults each other with their deepest insecurities. That's just how he and Jazz love.

"...Do you want to watch the Grey Ghost Marathon with me?" He asks after a long pause. Tim closes his eyes before plumping down next to him.

"I like that."

Neither mention Jason, who is gasping in the last row of seats and attempting to suppress muffled laughter behind the wrist cast that Danny lovingly gave him at the last gala.

On a side note, Danny Kane is called "Rabid Dog." by the elites of Gotham, who watched the boy make three grown men cry after two minutes of talking to him and also witness four Waynes attempt to pry his mouth open screaming, "No Danny drop it. drop it!" while the boy munched on Jason's wrist.

No one has noticed that half of the tech has disappeared.

[dazed-and-confused23]

Dear Heart and Gentle People 3

Summary: It's been a couple of months since you've seen your ghoul. Neither of you expects to cross paths in the Mojave.

Pairings: The Ghoul | Cooper Howard x Female Reader

Warnings. Some heavy putting and kissing here. Alcohol as well, i guess exhibitionist behavior?

Part 4 -> HERE

Freeside is one of the largest and relatively safest cities that Cooper has been to in his two hundred years on this cursed Earth. People still try to kill him, what's new, but this place has tall stone walls and well-meaning gangs that patrol the broken streets. The Kings make him huff and twist his lips as nostalgia hits him like a deathclaw.

The only bar in town is called The Atomic Wrangler, and Cooper castes his gazes across the bar and stage before he turns to the twins who own the establishment. They introduce themselves as Francsine and James Garrett, and Cooper tilts his hat in a greeting and orders a stiff drink.

Several hours later, he sits at a table, legs extended and pleasantly drunk as he laughs with the other patrons of the bar at the comedian on stage. He makes a sound of confusion when a shadow suddenly falls upon him, and then there is a smoothskin blocking his view. The curse that bubbles falls to the wayside when he looks up and realizes that it's not just any smoothskin. It was his.

You smile down at the Ghoul, that familiar amused quirk of your lips that Cooper hadn't realized he'd missed so much. So much had changed since the last time he had seen you, that this almost felt like meeting you for the first time all over again. Coop blinked up at you, jaw dropping as you step between his open legs, and proceeded to sit in his lap.

"Fancy meeting you here, cowpoke," you say, and despite his brain being soaked in alcohol, Cooper wasn't a complete fucking idiot. His hands find your hips and drag you close, manhandling you until you sit pressed flush to his front, your core already hot and pulsing with need. His cock throbs in his pants, and Coop bucks forward, a quiet sigh of pleasure escaping him at the friction.

"I'm too drunk for pillow talk, baby," the ghoul rumbles and his hands find your ass, massaging the globes harshly, and ruts up in a slow grind against your covered cunt. He finds your eyes, licks his teeth, and dives in to bite along the collom of your throat. He trails up your jaw and then your cheeks, lingering there as he hisses in your ear.

"Better get me outta here before I fuck you in front of all thae people. Give 'em a real show."

Your thighs quake at the dark promise, and you have to really think to yourself. Would anyone notice? Would anyone care?

Cooper watches your reaction, and a slow, evil grin creeps along his face. One hand leaves your ass and slides around, his thumb slipping between the apex of your legs and rubbing against your clothed clit. The pressure has you cursing quietly and falling forward, your face resting in the crook of the ghoul's neck. He laughs, rough and deep in your ear.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you, Darlin'. You'd want to show everyone in here just who you fuckin belong to."

You hiss through your teeth, already feeling like you're at the end of the rope. You hump against his hand, wanting to come so badly it hurts. Cooper goes back to sucking dark marks into your flesh, teeth nipping harshly, and it takes an embarrassingly quick time for you to tip over the edge.

Cooper swallows your whine with a kiss, shoving his tongue past your lips and tasting the nuka and rum you'd had earlier. He keeps you close as you come down from your high, kissing you until you have to push yourself away from him.

You already look fucked out, but Coop isn't nearly done with you, and tucks his arms under your ass and stands from his seat. He marches to the bar, where James hands him a key to the corner room upstairs without a word.

[moonselune]

Okkayy I was wondering if I could rq dark au? Like. A genuine moment between the lot. Or maybe something like a Stockholm thing going on for them? I think that'd be interesting.

Also a question abt it! If there were Wyll one (not saying for you to add any ofc) what would you think it would be? Since he doesn't have a bad ending and everything.

i love love love this, so interesting to think what the reader would fall for, how they would let that guard down and I'll post a little explanation of where I was coming from for each character.

And I have had a lot of asks about Wyll, and I find it really difficult to picture it because he doesn't have a bad ending and despite all that he has been through he always strives to be good. I have tried to think of an evil Wyll and I have not had nor come across an idea that I can get behind - that being said if people want to pitch it to me, have at it x

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Dark!BG3 | With Sincerity

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

For: Conqueror!Minthara, MotherSuperior!Shadowheart, God!Gale, Ascended!Astarion, Naturist!Halsin

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

CW: Controlling, manipulation, coercion, forced memory loss, they are still bad people lmao

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Uh oh! They are breaking down your walls and a part of you is vulnerable

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Conqueror Minthara:

The courtyard was alive with the sound of clashing weapons and sharp commands. Minthara's nieces moved with an impressive precision under her watchful eye, their small frames mirroring the grace and ruthlessness of their aunt. You stood in the shadow of an archway, unable to tear your gaze away from the scene before you.

Minthara was a vision of deadly elegance, her every movement purposeful and fluid as she demonstrated techniques to her eager students. Her hair, as white as fresh snow, caught the sunlight, and her eyes—so piercing and determined—flashed with an intensity that had once captivated you. You watched as she corrected their stances, her voice firm but not unkind. There was a harshness in her training, but beneath it lay a deep fondness, a protective instinct that she couldn't quite hide.

A pang of nostalgia hit you. You remembered the early days of your love, how you had fallen for her strength, her unyielding resolve. Minthara had always been a formidable warrior, but it was her rare moments of tenderness, the way she cared for her family, that had truly won your heart. You had married her not just for who she was, but for who she became when she was with you.

Lost in your reverie, you didn't notice Minthara approaching until she was right in front of you, her presence commanding your attention. She tilted her head, a small smile playing on her lips.

"Enjoying the show?" she asked, her tone teasing but not unkind.

Without thinking, you found yourself leaning in, your lips meeting hers in a kiss that felt both natural and inevitable. For a moment, the world fell away, and it was just the two of you, connected in a way that transcended time and distance. Her lips were soft yet insistent, and the familiarity of her touch stirred something deep within you.

Reality crashed back in, and you pulled away abruptly, your heart pounding.

"I-I’m I-" you stammered, stepping back, your face flushing with embarrassment. "That was… I didn't mean to…"

Minthara's smirk was confident, almost smug. "It's alright," she said, her voice low and knowing. "I knew you would come back around to me eventually."

You shook your head, trying to regain your composure. "It was just a momentary lapse of sanity," you muttered, trying to brush off the intensity of what had just happened. "Don't read too much into it."

Turning on your heel, you walked away, your thoughts a chaotic mess. You were supposed to hate her, to resent what she had become. Yet, the kiss had felt like coming home, a reminder of the love that had once defined your life.

As you glanced back over your shoulder, you saw Minthara still standing there, a satisfied smile on her lips. She had always been confident, always sure of her place in your heart. And despite your best efforts to deny it, a part of you wondered if she was right.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Mother Superior Shadowheart:

The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of candlelight casting flickering shadows on the stone walls. You lay in the lavish bed, the silk sheets cool against your skin. Shadowheart was next to you, her presence a mixture of comfort and control. For so long, your moments of lucidity had been frantic and panicked, each one a desperate attempt to cling to the truth before she stole it away again.

But tonight felt different. The usual haze in your mind was less oppressive, the usual fog that clouded your thoughts seemed to lift slightly. You felt a rare clarity, a sense of calm that you hadn't experienced in what felt like an eternity. You looked at Shadowheart, her dark hair spilling over her shoulders, her eyes closed in peaceful repose.

Without the usual panic, you found yourself studying her features—the soft curve of her lips, the gentle rise and fall of her chest. She looked serene, almost vulnerable in sleep. You realized how deeply you had once loved her, how she had been your world before the darkness had consumed her.

You felt an overwhelming urge to be close to her, not out of fear or desperation, but out of a genuine desire for connection. You shifted slightly, curling into her, and she stirred, her eyes fluttering open.

"You're awake," she murmured, her voice thick with sleep.

"Yes," you replied softly, your voice steady. "I… I feel different tonight. Not scared. Just… here."

She studied you, a flicker of surprise crossing her features, she could always tell when you were lucid and was always to prepared to seize that moment and crush it in her hands. "You don't feel panicked?"

You shook your head. "No. I feel… content. More at ease than I have in a long time."

A hint of a smile touched her lips, but it was cautious, as if she were afraid to believe it. "That's good," she said slowly. "Maybe it's the calm before the storm."

"No," you said, more firmly this time. "It's not. It's real. I want you to stay. Please."

Shadowheart's eyes widened slightly, genuine shock evident in her expression. For a moment, she didn't move, as if unsure how to respond. Then, she nodded, her movements careful, almost hesitant. "Alright," she said softly. "I'll stay."

She settled back into the bed, wrapping her arms around you, pulling you close. The warmth of her body, the steady beat of her heart, it all felt so grounding, so real. You buried your face in the crook of her neck, inhaling her scent, a mixture of herbs and something uniquely her.

"Thank you," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Shadowheart tightened her hold on you, her fingers gently stroking your hair. "For what?" she asked, her voice a mere breath in the quiet room.

"For staying," you replied. "For this moment."

She sighed, a soft, contented sound. "I never wanted to hurt you," she said quietly. "I only wanted to protect you."

"I know," you said, and for the first time, you truly meant it. "I know."

The two of you lay there, wrapped in each other's arms, the world outside forgotten. The clarity you felt wasn't fleeting or frantic. It was peaceful, a rare gift in the chaos that had become your life. And as you drifted off to sleep, Shadowheart's presence beside you, you held onto that feeling, hoping it would last, knowing that for tonight, at least, it was enough.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

God of Ambition Gale:

The ethereal glow of Gale's realm was a constant reminder of the divine power he now wielded, a stark contrast to the mortal world you had once known. You and Gale had been watching over a young mortal named Elara, a gifted artist who had been struggling under the oppressive control of her art master. For months, you had observed her from afar, offering subtle guidance and protection as she navigated her difficult path.

Tonight, the culmination of your efforts bore fruit. Elara had finally broken free from her master's tyranny, gathering the courage to leave and start her own journey as an independent artist. You had seen the light of hope and determination in her eyes, and it had filled you with a profound sense of joy and accomplishment.

You and Gale stood together on a celestial balcony, overlooking the shimmering expanse of his realm. The stars above twinkled in celebration, mirroring the elation in your heart. Gale's arm was wrapped around your shoulders, a comforting presence that had grown familiar over time.

"She did it," you whispered, the words filled with awe and happiness. "Elara is finally free."

Gale smiled, his gaze soft as he looked down at you. "She found her strength, thanks to you. Your guidance gave her the courage she needed."

You turned to face him, the weight of the moment sinking in. For the first time in what felt like forever, you felt genuinely happy. Tears of joy welled up in your eyes, and you wrapped your arms around Gale, holding him tightly. He returned the embrace, his arms enveloping you in a warm, secure hold.

"It's not just me," you said, your voice muffled against his chest. "You were there too, every step of the way."

He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through his chest. "We make a good team, don't we?"

You nodded, unable to find the words to express the depth of your feelings. Instead, you just held him closer, savoring the rare moment of pure happiness. The tension and doubts that had lingered in your heart seemed to melt away in his embrace.

Gale gently pulled back, just enough to look into your eyes. "What is on your mind?" he asked, his voice tender and filled with curiosity.

You shook your head, a small smile playing on your lips. "Nothing," you replied softly. "Just… this moment. I want to hold onto it, to remember this feeling forever."

He gazed at you with a mix of understanding and affection, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. "We will have many more moments like this," he promised. "This is just the beginning."

You leaned into his touch, closing your eyes as you savored the warmth and comfort of his presence. "I hope so," you whispered, more to yourself than to him.

For a while, you simply stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, the celestial realm around you a silent witness to your shared joy. The stars continued to shine brightly, casting a gentle glow over the two of you. In that moment, everything felt perfect, and you prayed with all your heart that this bliss would last forever.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Acended Astarion:

The palace corridors echoed with your footsteps as you wandered aimlessly, a sense of ennui settling over you. The grand halls, adorned with opulent decorations and luxurious tapestries, had lost their allure after countless days of aimless exploration. The life of grandeur and power, alongside Astarion, had its moments of excitement, but today, the boredom felt particularly oppressive.

You sighed, turning a corner and heading towards your quarters. As you pushed open the heavy doors, you were greeted by an unexpected sight. The room was filled with fresh flowers, their vibrant colors and fragrant scents instantly lifting your spirits. They were your favorites—roses, lilies, and peonies, arranged in an exquisite display that seemed almost magical. Amidst the floral splendor, a delicate note caught your eye.

With a sense of curiosity, you picked up the note and unfolded it. The elegant handwriting was unmistakably Astarion's.

"Come to the throne room, my love."

A smile crept onto your lips as you tucked the note into your pocket. You made your way through the palace with a renewed sense of excitement, your heart fluttering with anticipation. As you approached the grand doors of the throne room, you could hear the soft strains of music floating through the air.

Pushing open the doors, you were met with a breathtaking sight. The throne room was transformed into a paradise of flowers and enchanted candles. The candles floated gently in the air, casting a warm, golden glow that illuminated the room in a soft, romantic light. The flowers, arranged in intricate patterns, filled the air with their sweet fragrance. In the center of it all stood a small quartet, playing a melodious tune that added to the enchanting atmosphere.

And there, amidst the beauty and magic, stood Astarion. He was dressed in his finest attire, his eyes sparkling with a mixture of mischief and affection. As you stepped into the room, he approached you with a graceful elegance that made your heart skip a beat.

"Happy anniversary, my darling," he said, his voice a smooth blend of warmth and seduction.

You felt a rush of emotions—joy, love, and a touch of amazement at the effort he had put into this surprise. Astarion extended his hand to you, a charming smile playing on his lips.

"May I have this dance?" he asked, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made you feel as though you were the only two people in the world.

Without hesitation, you placed your hand in his, feeling the cool, firm grip of his fingers. He led you to the center of the room, the quartet's music swelling as you began to move in perfect harmony. Astarion's movements were fluid and graceful, guiding you effortlessly across the floor.

The two of you danced, lost in each other's eyes, the world around you fading into a blur of colors and music. As you swayed together, Astarion's gaze softened, and he leaned in close, his lips brushing against your ear.

"Do you remember our first dance?" he whispered, his breath sending shivers down your spine.

You nodded, your thoughts drifting back to that magical night when you had first fallen for his charm.

"How could I forget?" you replied softly. "It was the night I knew I would be yours forever."

Astarion's smile widened, his eyes glinting with a mix of pride and affection. "And I knew that I would do anything to make you happy," he murmured. "Even if it means filling a throne room with flowers and enchanting candles."

You laughed, the sound light and carefree, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "You've outdone yourself," you said, gazing around the room. "It's perfect."

He pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you as the music slowed. "Only the best for you, my love," he said, his voice a tender caress. "You deserve nothing less."

As the final notes of the music faded away, you found yourself clinging to Astarion, not wanting the moment to end. You rested your head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. For the first time in a long while, you felt a deep sense of contentment and happiness.

Astarion tilted your chin up, his eyes searching yours. "What's on your mind?" he asked, his voice gentle.

"Nothing," you replied, smiling softly, and it was true you were in that moment completelyy thoughtless, and you relished in it.

Astarion chuckled and leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, the touch sending a thrill through you. You closed your eyes, savoring the kiss, the feel of his arms around you, and the love that surrounded you.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Naturist Halsin:

The foal had been a source of constant worry for you. Rejected by its mother and frail from the start, you had spent countless nights by its side in the stables, nursing it with every ounce of your care and knowledge. The little creature's wide eyes and weak whinnies tugged at your heartstrings, making you more determined to save it.

Despite your best efforts, the foal's condition didn't improve. Its labored breathing and listlessness were heart-wrenching to witness. You fed it warm milk from a bottle, kept it warm with blankets, and whispered soothing words, but nothing seemed to help. Exhaustion weighed heavily on you, and desperation began to creep in.

Finally, with a heavy heart and reluctance, you decided to seek help from Halsin. You knew he had a deep connection with nature and animals, but the thought of turning to him—your captor, the one you were supposed to hate—filled you with conflicting emotions. Yet, the foal's life was more important than your pride.

Finding Halsin in his quarters, you hesitated at the door before knocking softly. He opened it, surprise flickering in his eyes as he saw you standing there, tired and disheveled.

"I need your help," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "The foal… it's not getting better."

Halsin's expression softened, and without a word, he followed you to the stables. Together, you tended to the foal, his hands gentle and confident as he examined the tiny creature. He murmured incantations and applied poultices made from herbs you couldn't identify, his connection to the natural world evident in every movement.

Hours turned into days, and you and Halsin worked side by side, taking turns to watch over the foal, feeding it, and keeping it warm. The nights were long and filled with anxious moments, but slowly, the foal began to show signs of improvement. Its breathing became steadier, and it started to gain strength.

One evening, as the foal nuzzled against your hand with newfound vigor, you felt a wave of relief wash over you. Exhausted and sleep-deprived, you turned to Halsin, a genuine smile spreading across your face.

"Thank you, Halsin," you said, your voice filled with gratitude. Without thinking, you leaned in and kissed him on the cheek, the gesture spontaneous and sincere.

Halsin's eyes widened in surprise, and a faint blush colored his cheeks. You quickly pulled back, realizing what you had done. The weight of your situation came crashing down, reminding you that you were still technically a prisoner.

"I'm sorry," you stammered, feeling embarrassed. "I didn't mean to…"

But Halsin shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "It's alright," he said softly. "You've been through a lot. We both have."

The exhaustion was finally catching up with you, and you swayed on your feet. Halsin reached out to steady you, his touch firm and reassuring. "You need to rest," he said gently.

You pouted, a playful glint in your eyes. "Carry me to bed?" you asked, half-jokingly.

Halsin chuckled, shaking his head. "You're perfectly capable of walking," he teased, but there was warmth in his eyes.

You let out an exaggerated sigh and pouted even more. "Please? I'm too tired to walk."

With a fond smile, Halsin finally relented. He scooped you up in his strong arms, carrying you with ease. You nestled against his chest, feeling safe and cared for in a way you hadn't expected. As he carried you to your quarters, you couldn't help but feel a strange sense of contentment, despite the complexities of your relationship.

He laid you gently on the bed, tucking the blankets around you. "Rest now," he said softly.

You smiled up at him, your eyes heavy with sleep. "Thank you, Halsin," you whispered, before drifting off into a peaceful slumber, knowing that for now, everything was alright.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Okay okay so here is my viewpoint for each reader opinion of course please project your own on why they had this moment and I would love to hear your thoughts as well down below !

Minthara - I imagine reader fell for Minthara because of her determination her drive, and Minthara training her nieces shows that but also the softer side that only reader would have seen. So everyone would be seeing Minthara as just being cutthroat and ruthless with her nieces but reader sees it as Minthara training them so that they survive because she cares for them, dearly. That's what causes reader's heart to open and get that impulse to kiss her.

Shadowheart - So I imagined reader having these frantic episodes, lashing out at shadowheart having a meltdown till shadowheart removes her memories again and you calm down and the cycle continues. So eventually, you get a lucid moment and instead of being panicked, you are just exhausted and tired and as you watch her you are just seeking comfort, need comfort. Hence her asking shadowheart to stay.

Gale - Gale's reasoning is pretty short, because reader is immortal and just needs a win at that point and gets caught up in it when she finally gets that W.

Astarion - I see reader as being so bored snd helpless and when Astarion woos her in this way that seems so genuine, has so much emotion attached to it, you have to let your heart fall for it. You just have to.

Halsin - So with this reader I see them throwing themselves into caring for animals to distract themselves from their situation and they pour so much love and attachment into this foal because really they see themselves in it. The foal has been rejected from it's family, reader has been ejected from theirs. The foal is ill and struggling, confined to the stables, reader is mentally unwell and confined to Halsin's grove. When reader sees the foal has no way out apart from death they cannot handle that so they turn to Halsin who they know will be able to help the foal. Much like how reader cannot handle that their only way out is death, so subconciousluy they lean on Halsin. Survival instincts babyyyyyyyy

Anyway hope you guys enjoyed it and the little breakdown of it, and I would love to hear your thoughts below - Seluney xox

[itsjusthockey]

A Nonsense Christmas - Jack Hughes

(Fruitcake EP Series)

Finally.

Enjoy

Comment and interact, love u guys that do. Makes my night

w.c: 2,083 (credit to gif maker) (don’t steal my work)

“Isn’t this illegal?” You ask, following Jack down through the tunnel of the very dark and very closed Prudential Center. “Or at least frowned upon?”

He snorts in front of you and turns to meet your eyes, a cocky smirk playing on his lips as he leans toward you, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly.

“Being me has its privileges, baby.”

He throws you a wink, and you roll your eyes as far back as you can as you continue to follow him down toward the devil's locker room. You’ve been to the Devil's barn many times before, but never when it was this late and very obviously closed. This little rendezvous wasn’t your plan. Things that are this extravagant usually aren’t.

You are currently in Jersey, but only for a few days. The hockey world was about to go on break, and Jack had begged you to fly in before you both headed to Michigan for the holidays. You were a bit hesitant, but after a few bribes from your boyfriend, you ended up in Jersey.

Tonight is your first night, and all you want after a long week of finals and a tiring flight is to land face-first in Jack's bed and stay there—Jack has other plans. As soon as you land and drop your stuff in the apartment, he is quick to shoo you out the door again, explaining he has a surprise date night planned after your miserable finals, and you are going to love what he has planned.

At the moment, the only feeling that is plaguing your mind is nervousness. Jack’s too cocky, and he has a slight bounce in his step which usually means he’s up to no good.

You follow behind him diligently, and soon enough, you both enter the locker room. The space is as lovely as you remember it, and you follow Jack over to his stall, which is conveniently next to his baby brothers. You watch with slightly narrowed eyes as he grabs various items from his locker and hands them to you.

It isn’t until he opens his little cubby that everything falls into place. There inside is a brand new box, and when he opens it in front of you, his stupid little smirk grows even wider.

“You like?” He proudly pulls the new Bauer skates from the box, handing one over to you.

You take in the brand new pair of skates. They’re beautiful, custom, and just your size.

“You, sir, are evil.” You give him a false mean glare, but you’re slightly being honest with your statement. “You really bought me skates and trapped me here to force me to ice skate?”

He shrugs his shoulders again, smiling. “Yes, I did.”

You roll your eyes at the boy in front of you. You’ve been together for a while, a long time, and while you’re dating one of the best hockey players in the league, you can’t ice skate for shit. It’s not for a lack of trying; you really have given it your all, but you’ve just had terrible teachers. Jack has tried to teach you many times. Many, many times, to no avail.

The first time, you almost ended up with a trip to the emergency room. The second time you landed so hard on your back, you thought you were paralyzed. The third time, you almost got a concussion. So it’s simple to say you’ve tried your best, but you’ve decided to leave ice skating to the professionals.

“Come on, baby, tonight’s the night, I feel it.”

You follow him out of the locker room toward the ice. You pause when you get there, suddenly feeling a sense of nostalgia. The lights are on in the center ice, and you have to admit it looks serene and slightly beautiful in the late evening. You’ve only ever been here when it is bustling with fans, and you feel a little special getting to see it this way.

“Come on, stop stalling.” Jack teases, patting the bench for you to sit.

You follow him and seat yourself in front of him. He’s smiling big, and he looks ridiculously happy. He’s always like this when he’s here; he has a certain energy when he’s close to a rink. You’d never tell him this, but you love it when he tries to teach you, even if you are wildly nervous.

Jack kneels down, immediately getting to work. You wince slightly as he pulls the skatelaces impossibly tighter around your foot. He quickly loops them around and tucks them into the sides, ensuring there is no possibility of you tripping, which you may or may not have done before.

“There, how’s that?” Jack gently pats your ankle as he looks up at you, still kneeling on the floor.

You shake your feet around, and the brand-new Bauer skates don’t budge a bit; it’s really tight and slightly cutting off blood flow, but you would rather have that than a broken ankle.

“Feels good.”

He smiles again, standing up and grabbing your face. He pulls you in for a quick kiss, then sits next to you, pulling on his own skates. You watch as he tightens them in record speed, and soon enough, he’s launching himself across the boards.

You glare at him as he races around the ice. He skates forward, backward, and even does a little spin. He’s laughing as you’re watching him move around fluidly, and once he’s done, he skates back to you, leaning over the boards where you’re standing, safely behind the danger.

“Stop showing off J, you’re not cute.”

He barks out a laugh at your bitterness, but he smiles sweetly and extends a hand for you to grab. You hesitate, watching his open palm for a minute before you finally pluck up enough courage and swing yourself onto the ice.

As soon as your foot makes contact with the ice, you fall a bit forward, and Jack steadies your waist. You give him another glare when you catch his amused stare. He’s enjoying this way too much.

“Okay, baby, you ready for the basics?”

You nod and watch as your boyfriend goes into full teacher mode. He tells you how to go, how to change directions, and you’re off. You feel pretty good. You haven’t been injured yet, but you seem to be skating better than you ever have. Maybe it’s the fact that you’re on professional ice; maybe their talent is seeping in.

You’re moving pretty fast, actually very fast, and Jack has let go of your hands, letting you glide on your own. It isn’t until you’re getting a little too close that you realize he forgot to reach you, the most essential part of ice skating.

“Wait,” you screech a bit. “How the fuck do I stop!”

Before you can do anything, you smack into the boards and fall on your ass. You hit the ice pretty hard as you go down, and as soon as you fall, you just lay there accepting defeat.

You hear Jack's loud and annoying laughter before he gets to you. He skates up so close, and he hovers above your body, looking incredibly pleased with himself.

“You were doing so good. What happened?”

You huff in annoyance, and he holds out his hands to help you up. Once you’re back on your feet, you throw him another glare.

“I’m not having fun.”

He smiles and skates in a bit close, moving to kiss your pout away. He does, and when he pulls his face back, he gently moves a piece of stray hair out of your face.

“You’re doing good. It just takes practice.”

You nod, and a newfound sense of determination fills you. This is just ice skating, literally Jack's job, and you will fucking master it if it kills you. More so, you know for a fact that there is a family skate coming soon, and you want to impress people. You know you have it in you, so you grit your teeth, use Jack to push you, and you’re off again.

An hour later, you’re quite impressed with yourself. You’ve managed to skate around and haven’t fallen once. You’re moving good, and you’re finally able to keep up with Jack to a certain extent.

“You better watch out J, I think the league might replace you with me.”

You wink at him as he watches you proudly, and you can tell this means a lot to him, so even if it means you’ll fall a few times, you’ll do this every day.

“You’re a natural.” He circles you, and you try your best not to knock into him. “You just needed to get out of your head.”

You nod, smilingly, and you both skate for a little longer. Eventually, you grow a bit tired. It’s been a long day, and you find yourself skating toward the devil's bench in search of some much-needed water.

Jack reads your mind and beats you to the bench, swinging himself over and grabbing the water bottle. He grins a little bit and melts your heart. He shakes the water bottle and holds it high. You oblige and tilt your head back as he squirts the water into your mouth. He misses a bit, causing the water to dribble down your chin. You sputter a bit and wipe at your face, playfully glaring at him.

“Oops, my bad," Jack says, chuckling as he wipes the excess water off your cheek with his hand. "Looks like I need to work on my aim."

You shake your head, feigning annoyance, but you can’t help but find his boyish antics endearing.

“You're lucky you're cute," you tease, unable to hold back your laughter.

Jake grins impossibly wider, his eyes twinkling a bit with mischief. "Well, I guess I'll have to make it up to you then."

He reaches out and helps pull you safely off the ice. He makes quick work and cups your face with cold hands, leaning down to kiss you softly.

The familiar tingle of excitement rushes through you as your lips meet, and you melt into his embrace, warming yourself up. His kiss is passionate but sweet and tender; it sends shivers down your spine. The light sounds of the empty area fade, and you find yourself getting lost with him.

After what feels like an eternity, you pull apart, breathless but grinning from ear to ear. Jack's blue eyes sparkled as he looks at you with all the affection in the world.

“Better?" he asks with a smirk, his hand still resting on your cheek.

You nod, your heart swelling with happiness. "Much better," you whisper, unable to hide your adoration for this hockey-playing heartthrob in front of you.

You sigh wistfully and see the twitch of a smile tug at his lips as you cup his jaw and tug him down to meet you in another gentle, lingering kiss. The warmth of his touch sends a rush of emotions through you, and you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

“Are you hungry?” Jack whispers in your hair.

You nod and loop your arms through his bent elbows, crossing it over his back. You press a soft kiss to his jaw, and he pulls you back toward the locker room. It doesn’t take long for you both to pack up, and you’re very pleased with the successful date night. It isn’t often you get to do things like this, and every time you do, you’re reminded how special your relationship is.

Ten minutes later, you’re packed into the Range Rover, and Jack is speeding toward his favorite late-night burger place. When you pull in, you see the hanging Christmas lights, and you’re reminded of the season. It’s Christmas, and you get to spend time with him, lots of time.

He leads you in hand and hand, and you can’t help but feel utter joy as you eat and spend the rest of the night together. The holdings season is shaping up to be the best yet, and you’re unbelievably excited to spend it by his side.

[signedxoxoviolet]

Slow dancing

Astronomy Professor!Reader and Snape share a dance before the Yule ball.

Warnings: None, just tooth-rotting fluff. (Bad english maybe)

Tags: Fluff, AnyPov, slow dancing, Astronomy Professor!Reader, Hogwarts, Severus Snape, Song “Can’t Help Falling In Love” by Elvis Presley

A/N: sorry y’all authors block got to me <\3 i’m back maybe

Ao3 — coming soon…

It was almost time for the annual Yule Ball.

You entered the giant venue decorated for the winter season; the walls and floor looked like they were made from pure ice, a tall Christmas tree stood at the end of the room with two smaller ones next to it, highlighting the middle ones prominence, there were tables prepared for supper.

As you walked in, a flash of nostalgia hit you, Your mind flying way back when you were a student and having fun with your friends at the ball, messing around and giggling with your buddies, looking up at the stars while laying on the cold grass outside of Hogwarts, the strawberry colored blush that ran up your cheeks as they teased you to dance with Severus.

A soft smile creeped up on your lips as the memories swarmed back to the surface of your mind.

You were all alone in the ball room, it was pretty early so none of your students, or your colleagues had arrived yet.

You thought of Professor Snape again, you never had a proper dance with him, you never had the courage to ask him and he never asked you because he only had eyes for Evans.

You remember hearing him quietly sobbing in his dorm when she chose James Potter over him. He was devastated.

Your 15 year-old-self thought that that was the perfect time to start getting closer to him. That’s when you two became friends. Best friends.

But still, you didn’t have the courage to ask him to dance 2 years later.

As your mind kept dipping into the galaxy of forgotten memories, you heard a few steps enter the hall.

You quickly turned around and saw Severus looking at you, dressed in his same old black outfit.

“A bit early, aren’t you, [Y/N]?” He mocked with a small grin.

You smiled and walked slowly towards Sev, meeting him.

“I wanted to see the decorations..”

“Haven’t you seen them before?”

“Yeah but, it’s different when you don’t hear the chatter of students and having the responsibility of checking up on them filling up your brain”

“I suppose thats..true.” He admitted, his arms behind his back.

A moment of awkward silence passed, like when you two were teenagers. You looked down.

Deep down you both haven’t changed at all.

Suddenly, a song starts playing, a song you loved.

Elvis’ voice coated the hall as the first notes of “Can’t Help Falling In Love”

Your eyes turned up at the speakers with a soft smile as Sev looked at you carefully.

The atmosphere was slow, sentimental, it was the perfect moment to share a dance.

Before you could even speak you felt a hand grabbing your waist and bringing you closer, your left hand met Snape’s as your eyes opened wide and your cheeks flushed.

Your other hand creeped on his shoulder, holding him tightly. His hands felt rough on your skin as he guided you through the dance.

“This is your favorite song.” He muttered, looking at you, your faces a couple inches apart. His gaze fell on your lips before running back to your eyes.

“Uh- yeah..i’m surprised you remember..i told you this when we were kids” You smile, starting to soften again from the previous shock.

“Of course i do.”

You smiled and looked down. “He remembers details about me..” you thought as you looked at him again.

“Your eyes are..beautiful tonight. They look like a beautiful constellation,with the shiniest stars of the whole galaxy” You spoke, your gaze lost in his.

You swore you could see him blush, just a bit.

“..thank you..” Severus mumbled, he was caught off guard, clearly.

You could notice how he was hardly ever complimented as a child, or now as an adult.

Everyone saw evil in him, you couldn’t understand why. He was a sweetheart deep down.

“You’re beautiful tonight too..” He muttered as his dark gaze fell upon your body and at your lips

“Thank you..” You smiled gently before stopping in the middle of the hall and bringing your face towards his, he did the same.

You could smell the odor of old books and burned candle wax coming from his body.

Your lips were now centimeters apart.

Suddenly you hear footsteps running in the ball room, both of your heads snapped towards the sound only to find some students staring at you both in disbelief.

You and Snape both get away from each-other as quickly as possible.

“One word about this and i’ll take away all your house points. Go.” Snape spat in a determined manner. The students sprinted away.

After that you both continued talking but didn’t continue where you left off..

Maybe you’ll kiss another time.

[milolunde]

Triplets Born

Like most things, I started rewatching Sonic Underground for fun and nostalgia and ended up making a version of it for myself in my head. However, UNLIKE most things, I felt I needed to draw it immediately instead of keeping it in my head.

Welcome to the stage Sonic Subternion

There was a time when Robotroplis was beautiful, full of life and peace, a time when it was known as Mobotroplis. Mobians were free to take part in the glory the queendom had to offer. They were free to take charge of their future, build a home, explore the world. But, just after my children were born the evil Doctor Robotnik used his technology to turn our world into a place of terror. Capturing the great realm of Mobotroplis, Doctor Robotnik and his machines turned our paradise into a prison of concrete and metal. 

As the source of Robotnik’s wealth, the aristocrats were left to play their tea parties and lavish masquerades, dooming my people to mechanical graves of servitude. Refusing to bend to Robotnik’s terror, he stripped me of my right as Queen, placing a bounty on my head… and the heads of my infant babies. Imprisoned in my own home, unable to aid my beloved queendom, I was left with a choice: Submit and forfeit Mobotroplis, or forfeit the life of my family. When all hope was lost, the Oracle of Delphius revealed to me a prophecy…

You must give up your children, separate, hide them from the evil that seeks their demise. Someday, you will reunite and overthrow Robotnik as the Lost Council of Four. But you must not act too soon. Cement your place in this destiny, for revealing yourself too soon will plunge your world into catastrophe. 

To give up my babies, to leave my queendom to the hands of Robotnik, then stand idle for years while the prophecy became realized. The Oracle laid before me a destiny where my worst fears were set in stone. Without a choice, I took my babies, smuggled myself and them out of the prison that was meant to be our palace home, and left them on the doorsteps to their true destinies… then fled.

Sonia “Sophia” Windermere

On the steps of House Windermere, Queen Aleena hesitated. The Windermere family had been sponsoring Robotnik since he first began the siege of Mobotropolis. Was leaving her darling daughter in the palm that fed Robotnik truly what destiny demanded? Looking at the lush garden within the tall fence, Aleena stepped through the dead grass to the gate entrance and left her daughter, her beautiful Sophia, cradled in her crib, and ran, imagining herself running with her children through the lush court grass to the grand fountain at the center.

Sonic “Oliver” Oakcrest-Hedgehog

Stepping carefully through the poison oak and already-dead pine saplings, Queen Aleena carried her baby boy through the woods strapped to her chest, arms curled around him in protection from the low branches. Upon hearing the rush of a waterfall, she took a breath and looked down at her baby. Wryly, she smiled at Oliver, who stared up at the sunset sky through the dead tree branches in awe. Untying the woven cradle from her back, she placed the sky-blue hoglet in the blankets, swaddled him tight, and gave him a final kiss before knocking on the cabin door and running back into the trees, arms shielding her face from the pine and twigs in her way. As she ran, she listened as the waterfall hushed and wondered what it would have been like to teach Oliver to swim.

Manic “Maurice” Roach

Fearfully creeping through the ruin of her queendom, the new city of Robotropolis, Queen Aleena held on tight to the handle of her basket. Draped in a cloth, she hoped to disguise the cradle as an ordinary basket for carrying groceries. However, the ornate design of the cradle could not be completely covered, and the shape undoubtedly gave away that it was anything but an ordinary basket. Hoping the shadows and late hour, fifteen minutes before curfew, would keep her hidden, she tread towards her destination. It was a humble home, its front door blocked off and relocated to the narrow passage between the home and its neighbor. She loomed in the alley, hesitating for a moment as the green light flickered above her. Her realm did not have shadows before, but there she stood, skulking through her own queendom. Blinking, she set the cradle down and uncovered it, heart swimming when she laid eyes on Maurice. She brushed his quills, kissed him twice, then soothed her hand across his body, watching as he drifted to sleep with his medallion in his mouth. Finally standing, she covered the basket, rang the bell, and fled to hide for the night before curfew officially arrived. She ran with her eyes forward, knowing if she looked back she would gather her son into her arms in an instant. Tears stung her eyes and she wondered if fulfilling a cruel destiny felt much like being watched: Fingers numb and quills on end as it peered through the back of her throat.

=================

That's it as far as origins go... Sonic does still end up with Chuck a few years after living with the Oakcrest family, and Manic is still super kidnapped after Aleena leaves, but I thought that would lend better to another post. That is, if I have the motivation to make another post lol. I really enjoyed making this one. It's refreshing to get my ideas out somehow rather than just letting them stir in my head until I forget about it. WELL please let me know, of you read this far, if you liked it! I plan to do more with this "rewrite" or "AU" or whatever it is. Not sure what form it will take, but I already have how they all meet typed out somewhere and I look forward to sharing it!