#my copy is disintegrating

[chikinan]

Some of my favorite books are still the ones I got as strange presents or found randomly at a library never to be seen again

[existentialarcade]

WHOAH i have no explanation for this one, i just kinda sat down and this happened.

[morhath]

Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead / The King of Attolia

images have alt text

[beartrice-inn-unnir]

Something stirred in the landscape, something under the snow. The branches on the ancient trees shook gently, dislodging little needles of ice.

The sun rose.

Hogfather by Terry Pratchett

Cold wind soughed from the treetops, causing whorls of snow to dance in icy spirals. The traveler gathered his ragged cloak tighter, adjusted the old rusting sword that was slung across his back, and trudged steadily forward, away from the wilderness, to where other creatures lived.

Mossflower by Brian Jacques

There was magic in the cathedral that night, magic in the elusive scent of pine mingled with the pungent frankincense, in the soft glow of the many candles, in the music, and in the rolling phrases of the familiar biblical passages. In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God… Then came a hymn, and the great cathedral reverberated with with the thousands of voices. Alice was awed by the majesty of the sound.

A Murder for Her Majesty by Beth Hilgartner

[askmumbojumbo]

hey mumbo jumbo how would you explain ender pearls then? what about how wardens spawn? Or maybe how you get fire aspect on your sword if not magic. ~🪄

Well that's all just science obviously

Not my particular branch of course so I don't know the exacts but I'm sure someone does

[willowfey]

there is so much stress in this house atm i feel like a submarine with a cracked window but my Gentle Parent Everyone In My Life override has kicked in so instead of collapsing on the floor i made fancy pasta for everyone 🫶🏻

[makkerswheel]

U guys better tag quotebook spoilers LIKE IM SOSRS 

[xiaoseminence]

I’m not sure if you do these but

An imposter!sagau with a creator (gn??)who just keeps resurrecting when they die, like their body disintegrates and reforms in the same spot like a minute later

Anyway Zhongli’s reaction to killing the creator, then watching their golden blood spill everywhere and realise with horror what he did

Only for creator to resurrect not even five minutes later, but with massive obvious trust issues (and Zhongli’s subsequent extreme guilt)

It’s a guilt fic im asking you to write a guilt fic

𓆩♡𓆪 Divine Retribution 𓆩♡𓆪 (Genshin SAGAU Scenario) (Imposter AU!)

Summary ➵✬ Mislead by a false idol, Rex Lapis commits the ultimate act of heresy. It’s only when the blood of the real creator stains his hands a golden color that he realizes what he just did. 

Warnings ➵✬ Heavy Yandere, Mild depictions of blood/violence, Worship/Religious practices, Dark Topics, Depictions of emotional distress, Reader dies but not really

Despite how much your legs ached and your lungs seemed about ready to combust, you were slowly but surely starting to realize that you’d never be able to outrun him. If anything, it was as if he was toying with you, his disembodied voice whispering fury filled words into your ears as tears streamed down your face. 

“Sinner, Miscreant! You vile creature will meet your justice at my hands today”

You never asked for any of this. The initial excitement of discovering you’d awoken in the world of your favorite game, surrounded by the many characters you’d grown to know and love, soon turned into icy fear once you saw the look in their eyes. From the very first moment any of them met you, they looked at you with such disdain and malice, they’d curse at you, call you “Imposter” or “Monster”, and chase you away. So far you managed to outrun them all, hiding in the rural regions of Liyue without showing your face to a single soul. But as soon as he was informed about your existence, your life was running on limited time. 

“Their eminence will be delighted to see your head on a stake, hung above the walls of their palace. Demons like you should know that only death awaits you in the land of the creator”

A loud cry erupted from your throat as you felt a piercing pain in one of your legs. One look back revealed a golden spear embedded deeply in your flesh. Although you tried to keep running, it resulted only in a pathetic limp before you collapsed to the ground shortly after. The black cloak you had grown accustomed to wearing hid your form from the archon that was drawing closer and closer to your shivering body. The countless scrapes and bruises that covered you from head to toe after running for such a long time felt more painful than ever before. The golden blood flowing through your veins ever since you first came to this world was absorbed by the dark cloth, remaining as nothing but a barely visible stain. 

His steps were slow and silent as he lazily stalked up to you. To him, you were wounded prey - and he was the predator about to devour you whole. Finally stepping in front of you, his gloved hands reached out to harshly grab your chin, forcing you to look straight into his amber colored eyes that were burning with resentment. 

“It seems as though the little pest has finally been caught in the trap. Speak, Rat. Dare you defend your actions of besmirching the divine creator’s name with your hideous attempt to copy their form?” 

He always seemed like such a grounded and wise character, yet as you were met with his perfect features pulled into a dangerous snarl, it was difficult to believe that this was the same person. An involuntary whine spilled past your lips as his grip on your jaw grew stronger to the point that you thought your skull would break apart. 

“I don’t know what crime you keep accusing me of. I never hurt anyone!”, it came out as a desperate plea for mercy, yet something inside you told you that it didn’t matter whether you were to beg on your knees or spit in his face - the archon of geo remained as unmoving in his resolve to kill you as mountain, ever unfazed by its surroundings. 

“Pathetic.” - He all but growled this word as his eyes seemed to grow as hard as gold. Before you could even realize what was happening, a harsh push had your back painfully colliding with the muddy ground below. The tip of his golden spear dematerialized from its place embedded in your thigh, instead appearing only inches from your (e/c) eyes. You were scared to blink, even scared to breathe - in fear that the spear would come crashing down on you before you knew it. Your face - the face that everyone seemed to resent you for - was staring right at the archon who would be your killer. 

For only a fraction of a moment, his amber eyes seemed to soften, their color appearing gentle and warm like molten pools of caramel. Yet this moment was soon over, as an even harsher scowl appeared on his features. 

“How dare you? You really thought you’d be able to fool their grace’s most devoted worshiper?”, he hissed, as if it was somehow your fault that you looked similar to the deity they revered. 

“You don’t deserve to utter any last words”

Before your mouth could open to let out one last defiant scream, before your muscles could contract and roll you to the side, away from danger, a sharp pain shot through your forehead - all but seeming to split your head in half as the spear found its place in your skull. The last thing your tired eyes noticed was a single splatter of shimmering, golden blood - before finally… your vision faded to black. 

In all his years of seeing war, bloodshed, famine and death, the archon of Liyue never once faltered in his conviction toward his creator. Even after losing those who held close to his heart, his faith gave him the strength to carry onward - his body seemingly fueled only by sheer devotion. Yet in this very moment, as a single splatter of golden blood hit his face, he never felt more pathetic. Not a single muscle in his form dared to even so much as twitch, as the only feeling aside from his own heartbeat thundering painfully in his chest was the warm liquid sliding down his cheek. It seared him, felt so hot against his skin that he was sure it was a warning of what hellfire would await him after what he had done. 

“I- Your grace?”, his words were barely above a whimper, hand outstretched as if to touch them, assure himself that he hadn’t done what he feared he had. Although he tried to convince himself that he must be mistaken, the endlessly empty feeling in his chest confirmed what he deep down already knew to be true. He had killed them. 

ɢᴏᴅꜱʟᴀʏᴇʀ - ʜᴇʀᴇᴛɪᴄ - ᴅɪꜱꜱᴇɴᴛᴇʀ

The words kept repeating themselves endlessly in his mind. With a broken sob his knees gave out under him, allowing his body to fall onto the cold ground. He felt like he was burning from the inside, hellfire coursing through his veins, yet his shaking hands still reached out for his creator’s limp body. His gloves had long since been discarded, thrown aside and forgotten in the damp grass. “What a fool I am, your grace. What hubris led me to believe that I could be your most devoted servant, the one to lay the world at your feet when in the end… it was I who fell for a false idol?” 

He wanted to cradle his deity in his arms, let the tears that spilled from his eyes wash away his sins and their blood. His face felt tainted, dirty - sullied with the blood of his one and only god. Blood that he had spilled. When his hands should have touched the body lying motionless on the ground, he was met with nothing but shimmering dust. The creator had disappeared. 

It mattered little to Rex Lapis what would become of this world, of the inhabitants of Liyue and all those he swore to protect. Nothing in this world would ever matter again without the gentle guidance of the creator. 

“Please, I beg you! Please punish me! I deserve a punishment worse than death”- He bowed down so deeply that he could feel the cool ground against his face. He was ready to beg and atone for as long as it took for you to punish him. He would accept anything, anything at all - but he couldn’t live knowing he’d been abandoned by you. A life without your presence was a greater torture to him than his mind could even fathom - if you stayed gone… he would break apart. 

“Please… come back”, he had yelled and cried to the point his lungs started to hurt, and by now his voice was nothing above a raspy whisper. What a pathetic shadow of himself the archon had become. 

You often wondered what the afterlife would be like. Would you end up waking up in yet another game world? Or… would dying perhaps give you a chance to go back home? Home, where you belonged and many friendly souls were waiting for you, people who wouldn’t curse and spit at you, forcing you to go into hiding for so long. Yet death did not come to you as easily as you expected, as when you opened your eyes again…

A cloud of shimmering golden dust was surrounding you like a cocoon. When it all at once burst open, you were met with a rather startling sight. Before you knelt Rex Lapis - or Zhongli as you’d first come to know him in the game. Yet to your surprise, nothing seemed to remain of the unshakable mountain he appeared as before. He was shivering, near silent sobs racking his body uncontrollably. 

The slight golden shimmer in his peripheral vision made him freeze. His teary eyes raised themselves at a snail’s pace - too scared was he that it was a mere illusion of his desperate mind. Yet when he met your mortified gaze, he couldn’t help but cry out in relief. 

“Your grace! I will repent! Whatever you want, for however long you see fit-”, the male practically flung himself at your feet, hands grasping all too eagerly at your stiff legs. His touch was gentle, but you knew it would be impossible to get him to let you go if he saw it fit to hold you in place. He was looking up at you with such… passion? It felt as though you could see right through his eyes, into a burning fire of devotion. This was far different to how anyone ever looked at you before in this world. They tended to gaze at you with either disdain or a twisted kind of pity that made you feel sick to your stomach. It scared you far more than if he had been angry, swinging at you with that spear of his. 

“L-let me go! Don’t touch me!”, you frantically cried out, moving backwards so quickly that you fell over.

His expression immediately fell, an almost empty look replacing his formerly so fiery expression. 

“I understand, your grace”, his breath shuddered as he instantly let you go, hands retracting so fast, it seemed as though your skin had burned him. 

“I will prove my worth to you. Command me as you wish. No matter what you order me to do, who you want me to kill. If you want me to mutilate and torture myself I will be happy to do so, I’d burn all of Liyue down in a heartbeat if you so desired -  if only to cleanse myself of the sin I have committed” 

His fervent, desperate devotion was far more terrifying than his wrath could ever be.  Word count ➵✬ 1850 Note ➵✬ Thank you for my very first request

[spamton-deactivated19970420]

i made a little hand-sewn beast based on everydayspamton's drawing & took it with me on a family roadtrip

if you'd like to make your own, i've included the [[FREE]] pattern & some rough steps below the cut, as well as an Educational Video

EDUCATIONAL VIDEO. THIS IS NATURAL SPAMFISH BEHAVIOR & IT IS NOT SCARED OR IN PAIN.

BEAST CRAFTING INSTRUCTIONS:

disclaimer: i'm an amateur & i've never tried making a pattern before, nor have i ever tried writing directions

materials you'll need:

sewing needle & pins

black thread & white thread

fabric in these colors - black, white, red, yellow, & pink

stuffing

(optional) a squeaker

notes:

for the thread, i suggest something thicker, like whats used for embroidery - i used two different thicknesses on mine, & i think the thicker one; (the black thread); stands out a lot nicer

for the fabric, i used craft felt. its nice because its cheap & malleable, but if you want something that can actually be washed & played with without disintegrating on you, don't use felt. different fabrics will have different results, though, & may not give you a clean-looking edge & lines

you can also just go nuts & use whatever colors of thread/fabric you want, make pattern alterations, whatever

if you make one, feel free to @ me, send an ask or DM me with it, i'd love to see!

^^^ here's the pattern!

now the actual steps?:

1.) download & print out the pattern - it should(?) fit normally across a regular sheet of printer paper. i don't have exact measurements, i eyeballed this whole thing & then lost the original pattern - (there's only a copy that i scanned & edited left on my computer. woops.)

2.) cut the pieces out. pin the patterns to the fabric color the instructions call for, & cut out the number you need for each

^^^ here's what you should end up with!

now the sewing! for this whole thing i used doubled-up thread & a 'running stitch', then went over it a secondary time with another running stitch to fill in the gaps. you could also try using a 'back stitch' (which i don't know how to do), but that might be tougher. the goal here is to give it an Outlined look, like a drawing

3.) with white thread, sew the pink & yellow eyes onto the glasses - pink is Left, yellow is Right. reference the image above if you're not sure!

4.) sew all the fins pieces together - on the black fin, use white thread; & on the white fins, use black thread. reference the pattern for the detailing. i made my own front fins 'wrong', but you don't really have worry too much about being exact

5.) overlap the Head pieces onto the Body pieces - making sure you have a Left and Right side! pin the heads to the bodies, & compare their lengths by holding them together to make sure you've got it right. sew the heads to the bodies using black thread. detail the head with black thread, & detail the body with white thread

6.) now that you've got the two sides of the body completed, you can hold them together to try to get even placement for the red cheeks. pin each cheek to each side, then sew them on with white thread

7.) using black thread, sew the pink glasses onto the Left side of the body, and the yellow glasses onto the Right side. they'll be slightly overlapping the cheeks

8.) with white thread, sew the front fins on to each side. NOTE: i put mine on wrong, & didn't realize until i was finished. for the 'right' placement on these (closer to the original drawing), reference the pattern, & not the images

you now have all your parts ready for assembly! for me, this is the hardest part. you'll need a bunch of pins - use the guidelines on the pattern and/or reference the below image to get the right placements

9.) pin in the back fin & the nose. leave some space on the bottom for stuffing when you start, & using black thread, sew together the nose & the fin unto the body - the fin should be sandwiched Between the two body halves

10.) pin in the tail fin. continue sewing down the back with the black thread, & sew the tail fin in - once again, it should be Between the two body halves

11.) pin in the back fin between the halves. continue with the black thread, sew along the tail & sew the back fin in - Stopping once its secured. you should have some good space still open on the belly

12.) time for stuffing. using something thin, but not sharp - like a chopstick or the back of a crochet hook - & push stuffing into the nose & tail portions. stuff the head about halfway. now, if you have a squeaker, put it into the widest part of the head, & stuff a little around it

13.) still using the black thread, sew the belly up a little more so its easier to keep the stuffing in, & then fill up the rest of the body. once fully stuffed, sew the remaining hole together

14.) congrats! you now have a spamfish. if you opted for a squeaker, squeak it thoroughly

don't worry if it's not exact, some individual variation is fun & makes your creature unique! mine has upside-down front fins with upside-down detail lines

here's the thing with some friends i had made a little bit before him. have fun with your beast!

i am not liable for any damage it causes to you or your property

[orobaxis]

I loved your Ominis fic so much! It felt like I was there with him 🤭 for prompts I couldn’t decide between “You need to know that I have grown to care for you. Deeply." and "I can't fathom the idea of my life without you in it." It could be angsty or not I don’t mind 😊

“deeply”

ominis gaunt x f!reader (hogwarts legacy)

ominis starts to avoid you.

word count: 2849

warning: some pureblood purity nonsense, f!reader may be muggleborn or a half-blood

beware of spoilers in the comments/tags/reblogs!

“what's wrong with you and ominis?”

you frown, eyes not leaving your plate as you give anne a shrug. you don’t know, really, what’s going on between you and ominis. he just suddenly became so distant to you.

at first, you thought it was just you. you thought you were going a bit paranoid, or that you were overthinking it. because ominis always sits with you, that was his place, that was where people expected to find him in the great hall. wherever y/n was, ominis wasn’t far behind.

it started when he raced anne to sit beside sebastian for lunch. you don’t think they noticed, and anne was just all too happy to sit beside you and chat, but you did. he was supposed to sit beside you, so why didn’t he? you chalked it up to him wanting to talk (argue) with seb, and thought nothing of it.

next was when you arrived to the library shortly after your potions class. you always go to the library after potions to try to work on your homework, you had a dedicated nook and ominis would join you and you would both nag the twins to start their homework (and not copy yours). but one day, he just…wasn’t there. you were beginning to get worried, then, wondering if he wasn’t feeling well, or if you did something to upset him. so that night, you try to catch him in the common room.

he didn’t show up. you four would usually sit by the large windows overlooking the lake, waiting for the giant squid to greet you while pranking other students. but when sebastian told you that “he said he wanted to rest”, your heart formed a little crack in it. and every day he started to avoid you, the crack just grew a little bit bigger.

“i think…he’s avoiding me,” you tell anne. despite being close to ominis, you and anne share a sisterly bond that was forged early in your lives and stronger than the very foundations of magic. there are things you simply cannot talk to seb or ominis about (for one, your…budding feelings towards the latter), and it’s always anne who you turn to in times like these. “he hasn’t talked to me for days now.”

anne scrunches her face in displeasure. “that isn’t like ominis at all, he’s not ignoring me, and certainly not my brother,” she turns to you warily, “do you think it was something you did? something you said?”

“i’m trying to remember, but i’m certain i haven’t said or done anything that could have upset ominis,” the tone of your voice is sadder now, disparaging, “that i know of.”

anne, ever the optimist, reaches for your hand and squeezes it, “well, whatever it is, i’m sure ominis will come around. he can’t stay away forever, you know?”

feeling somewhat comforted, you give her a terse smile. do you know that?

-

it might be best to stay away. ignoring the thumping of his heart and the fluttering in his stomach, ominis flicks his wand, and the howler is engulfed in flames before it can disintegrate. he is thankful for the privacy of the undercroft at this moment, although he knows that any one of his friends can pop in, the message in the howler was not something he wanted them to hear.

son,

we have heard rumours about you associating with some…unsavoury folk—

is that really what they think of her? of y/n? because she wasn’t born from a prominent pureblood family, because she associates herself with muggleborn professor garlick, because she loves all things that grow and not fascinated in the dark arts?

does his family really think less of her because of her birth?

ominis made a hard and rash decision, and it has been going well. however, he’s certain that you are starting to get suspicious by now. you are a smart witch, you know that he’s been avoiding you. but ominis thinks there is no other option. in order to keep you away from his family’s sharp and piercing gaze, it is better to distant himself from you. it is for your own safety. he cannot have them sink their infected claws into the only comfort he has away from home. no matter how hard it is, ominis has to keep away.

which is becoming hard, seeing your history together. having barely separated, you have all the same classes together. herbology, for one, is your favourite class, and you had paired with him to care for a pot of chinese chomping cabbage. this is going to be a lot harder than he thought, seeing as you had rooted yourself deep into his routine, his life, and his heart.

-

feeling emboldened by your conversation with anne, you are hopeful that ominis will finally break his silence in herbology. you are partners, and you have to discuss how to properly care for this rather…biting…flora.

your anxious smile drops a bit when ominis says nothing when you greet him, only standing away from the potting station, seemingly indifferent.

“so…i thought we should start trimming our cabbage and feed it some carrots,” you suggest slowly, trying to gauge any reaction. “and maybe water it before we leave. what do you say, ominis?”

the smile is replaced by a frown when you see him looking away from you, something he hasn’t done since you two started being friends. he is attentive like that, whenever you talk to him, he would turn to your general direction, making sure you know that he was listening to you. now, you aren’t so sure that he’s not let your words pass through one ear and out the other.

ominis only shrugs, “do whatever you think is right,” and turns away from your completely.

disheartened, you turn to the potting station, trying to ignore the tightening of your throat and the sharp sting of tears threatening to fall down your cheeks. you silently tend to your plant for the rest of the class.

-

“why are you ignoring y/n?”

sebastian finds him sulking close to the defense against the dark arts classroom. this is also one of your favourite hauntings, enjoying the tea the biscuits when you have a free period.

ominis sighs, knowing that he cannot really avoid the question forever. he also knows how persistent sebastian can be, and it would be no use to hide it from him. despite this, he tries to play dumb at first, “what makes you say that?”

“well, for one, you haven’t been sitting next to her or talking to her for a couple of days now. and in herbology, you’d think someone made her watch a niffler getting tortured with how sad she looked.” sebastian’s tone is accusatory.

the gaunt boy frowns as he imagines how much his actions hurt you, only giving you one sentence answers whenever you ask questions in class and avoiding you as much as he can. he hates that he’s the reason you were so down in herbology earlier.

“and anne has been pestering me to ask you,” sebastian adds, “which means you better tell me now before she comes here and beats it out of you.”

ominis scoffs, “like she’d eve—”

“ominis, the only reason she hasn’t hexed you is because she’s busy comforting y/n right now. as soon as she’s done, you best believe we’ll both be on the receiving end of a mean stinging hex.”

well, ominis couldn’t argue with that.

“it’s my parents,” he tells sebastian, “they owled me, wrote to me that i shouldn’t be associating with ‘unsavoury folk’ and those who are ‘lesser’. that i am slytherin’s heir and should not be seen with someone who has muggle parentage and friends with muggleborns.”

sebastian blanches at that. “how dare they!”

“you might think that’s that, but it’s also a threat. they are telling me to stop now, or else they will find her.”

“and this…this is why you’re staying away?”

ominis nods, “i don’t want my family to even think of her. to look at her or touch her. i cannot have them taint her.”

he waits as sebastian goes silent, trying to process what he just said. he is not hoping for a solution, nor comfort.

“but…you’re hurting her. and yourself.”

ominis says nothing. he doesn’t need to. what more can he say?

-

you want to believe that you’re getting used to the silence. but you really can’t. it’s so different without ominis’ presence, without his (overly) doting nature, or his commentary whenever seb does anything stupid. while you still wonder what it is you did to make him ice you out, you also start to muster the courage to talk to him alone and ask him about it.

relaying this to anne, you two try to find the right “opportunity” to catch ominis off guard so that you can confront him. he seemingly catches on to it though, now sticking beside sebastian at any cost. sebastian is also a bit subdued, and that is something you should ask about in a while as well.

it’s so strange to find ominis across the table from you in the great hall, face turned away from you like he is deliberately letting you know he doesn’t want to acknowledge your presence. anne has been helpful, sitting beside you and initiating conversation, but it’s not the same.

it’s not the same without him.

so when the owls started arriving and delivering packages, you consider it a welcome surprise to receive one.

“oh, a package!” anne exclaims excitedly, “who is it from?”

you turn over the package, the smile on your face replaced by a frown, “i don’t know. it’s unmarked.”

at that, ominis can feel the hair on the back of his neck standing, and he sits up straighter. “don’t open it.”

you look up to ominis, surprised that he not only was listening to you (and ignoring you on purpose), but that he talked to you. even if it was just to tell you not to open a package.

sebastian purses his lips and nods, “he’s right, y/n. it could be some prank from someone.”

or something related to the dark arts that is meant to curse you, he and ominis think.

ominis has a gnawing feeling of anxiety, wondering if it was his family who sent you this mysterious package. do they really think he wouldn’t know about it? why would they send something potentially dangerous in such a conspicuous way?

“alright,” you acquiesce, now thinking that it couldn’t hurt to be on the safe side. it would be terrible if the package turned out to be a prank, wondering if it would explode when you open it or splash you with something pungent. “i’ll open it outside.”

“i will open it,” ominis states, and it sounds final. you stare at him, contemplating on whether this would be the right time to ask him, if he has decided he’s had enough of ignoring you and you can go back to the way it was. the finality in his words seem to suggest that he does not tryst whatever is in that package. his arms extend across the table to you, “i’ll keep it in the undercroft for now.”

blinking in surprise, you raise your eyebrow, “you want to hide it there?”

he nods tersely, “just to make sure it doesn’t explode on you. after classes we will go to the beach and open it.”

resigned, you hand the package over to him, taking the moment to bask in the feeling of his fingers brushing against your own. as quickly as it happened, ominis’ hands are gone, and he stands up, wand blinking red in front of him. he doesn’t say anything as he leaves for the undercroft.

sebastian says nothing when he hears your sigh of defeat.

-

the four of you find yourselves at the beach after class, eyeing the suspicious package tucked under ominis’ arm.

“i didn’t find any traces of dark arts in the package,” he says, “but we can never be too careful. i will place it on the ground and i need you all to back away as far as you can.”

“will you be safe?” you blurt out, your worry for him trumping the other confusing feelings you have bubbling up your chest, “if this is some kind of…dark arts artifact…i think it would be best if we get a teacher involved.”

ominis thought about that, of course. “if it’s dark arts, then i might be able to find a way to control it. and then you can go and fetch professor hecat.”

still wary, you voice your assent, grabbing anne’s hand for support.

you watch ominis take a deep breath, sebastian standing not too far from him, ready to catch him if anything happens as well as to guard you and anne.

ominis waves his hand in a flourish, and you all held your breaths as the packaging tears open to find…

a book.

thick, and well-used, it looks like…an ordinary textbook.

you shuffle towards ominis curiously, ignoring sebastian’s calls, and peeked to see what it is.

“oh, it’s a book,” you comment. you get close enough to read the title, even as ominis extends his arm to stop you from getting any closer. “it’s the herbology book i’ve been looking for!”

“what book?” ominis asks, still distrustful.

“i asked deek the house elf to help me find a book on herbology that professor garlick mentioned. he said he knew where that missing book may have been hidden. he must have sent it to me when he found it.”

you cautiously move away from ominis hold, reaching for the book. “see? it’s harmless. deek probably just didn’t put his name on it.”

“so, it’s not evil?” sebastian asks.

you raise the book and wave it, smiling, “nope!”

“merlin’s beard! that gave me quite the fright,” anne exclaims, hands on her chest, “this was all just a big misunderstanding!”

you smile, before subtly turning your gaze to ominis. he is quiet, once again icing you out. he nods stiffly before raising his wand, proceeding to walk away.

“ominis, wait!” you call out.

you see him hesitate, stopping his tracks for a moment. he clears his throat, “i’m glad you’re safe.”

-

he finds out by the large windows in the common room, one of your favourite spots.

you were learning your forehead against the window, listening to the sound of water behind the thick glass.

“the giant squid isn’t here,” ominis remarks, “i couldn’t hear it.”

he cannot see the sad smile on your face. “thank you for letting me know, i think it’s better knowing that instead of waiting for nothing.”

oh.

he doesn’t like the sound of your voice when it’s sad.

before he can process it, he is standing in front of you, hands clenched at his sides. “i’m sorry y/n. i know i hurt you…but…”

your voice is small and muffled against the window, “i don’t know what i did for you to push me away like this.”

“my family has threatened to hurt you if i don’t stay away,” he blurts out, and you sit up in surprise.

“what?” you are shocked, to say the least.

“that’s why i was so worried about the package. i was afraid that they had sent you a cursed object because you…because you associate yourself with me.

but y/n, you need to know that i have grown to care for you. deeply,” ominis doesn’t want to admit how much he’s shaking, how it is obvious from the way he sounds that his shaky voice is about to crack and his throat tight as he struggles to keep his emotions at bay, “you are the last thing i want my family to touch. i couldn’t let them hurt you. not you.”

you exhale, tears now flowing down your cheeks. you stand in front of him and grasp his hands, which are cold, clammy, and shaking.

“oh ominis,” you squeeze his hands, slowly making your way closer until your forehead rests against his. feelings that you thought are yours to keep, buried deep and untouched in your heart, are starting to rise. “i cannot fathom the idea of my life without you in it. i don’t care what your family thinks. i will be fine as long as i’m with you. with seb and anne. with our family.”

ominis starts to break, exhaling as he feels your skin touch his, your smell invading his senses and your warmth soothing his tormented soul. “i cannot lose you, y/n. not to them.”

smiling through your tears, you raise your arms to pull him into a hug. “you won’t lose me, ominis. i promise you.”

there may be a lot of work to be done, more talks to be had, with regards to your feelings and his, on how to navigate these feelings and desires while also making sure that his family never touches you, but for now, ominis basks in your presence and in the love you have for him. and for now, that is enough.

-

aaaahhh sped write this minutes before a class presentation. i hope it’s fine. thank you for your patience with my writing styles/formatting as i try to find the best style/layout to write. thank you for the overwhelming love!!!

[wordsinhaled]

more domestic vacation 'verse because it's apparently all i can think about now

-

It has been... good, being here. Quieter. Easier. The clamor of billions of visitors to the Dreaming is muffled, in Hob's flat. The things that dream here are calm things. Thriving things. Old and cherished things.

Loved things.

Here, Morpheus too has felt like something that could perhaps be loved.

In the mornings, after Hob has left for work, Morpheus draws himself soundlessly up from the bed and pads on bare feet to the record rack that stands overfull with vinyls in the corner of Hob's living room. He touches each record there carefully, the faint visions of musicians and composers flitting ephemeral beneath his fingertips. He selects his musical accompaniment for the day by intuition alone.

This morning, he finds a little yellow note stuck to Hob's copy of The Cure's Disintegration:

"You'll like this one. Promise. —H"

Morpheus listens to it five times through in its entirety with a cathartic sort of anguish. Afterwards he perches on the couch wrapped up in the blanket Hob has slept beneath each night these two weeks. The cedar and vanilla notes in Hob's soap still linger in the fabric, like traces of an embrace Hob Gadling has never given him.

He has especially enjoyed sitting on the floor by the window in the warmest patch of sun, holding court with Hob's houseplants. A marble queen pothos hangs there, suspended near the ceiling, its cascading vines of happy heart-shaped leaves long enough to trail down around Morpheus' shoulders. A row of succulents and a purplish-red bromeliad in a brightly enameled pot live lined up on the sill.

Morpheus gathers them all in his awareness, greets their leaves gently with the backs of his knuckles, speaks to them the way he speaks to all growing things. They whisper their daydreams to him in return, telling him tales of jungle and desert, and of the loving voice that sings songs to them each time they are watered.

Morpheus wonders what Hob Gadling sings, what he hums under his breath.

I would be sung to thus, he thinks. But would you sing to me, my friend?

He sits for long hours in the companionable silence. Lulled by the rhythm of verdant stories, he relishes the sun-warmth banking in the soft black cotton of his shirt, and feels some unnamed tension deep within himself begin to unravel.

Morpheus had not expected this from his stay with Hob. This comfort. This easiness between them.

How it has sunk into him and become something he could, in some version of the universe, come to require.

So, when on the eve of his fourteenth day Hob says, "I don't want you to go," Morpheus is surprised to find that the wistful note Hob cannot quite keep out of his voice finds a sympathetic echo in his own thoughts.

"I—" Morpheus begins.

It is rare that he does not find the ending of a sentence already laid out for him. Yet what is its proper conclusion? I also do not wish to go away from you is futile. An impossibility. He has a kingdom. A realm. A responsibility.

"You feel it too," Hob says. "Don't you?"

Morpheus does not need to breathe in the waking world. He does not need a heartbeat. These are paltry mortal necessities; mortal vulnerabilities. And yet he knows, suddenly, the kick of the heart against the ribs and the catch of a gasp in the lungs of his recalcitrant body. It pinions him to the moment.

"Hob," he manages to say. For a brief second, he is unmade and remade again by the hope in Hob Gadling's face.

"Dream. My dearest friend. I've been wrong before." Hob's eyes are wide and earnest. His voice is honey-soft and strong. He is wiser than Morpheus can aspire to be. "If I'm wrong about this, tell me, please."

"You were not wrong before," Morpheus says. "And you are not wrong now."

[winterlynightlystories]

A debt to pay

AU of My Nocturnal Serenade because I need someone to just go and save and be kind to that man! I need some comfort damn it😭 did I cry writing it? Yes!

PT 1 pt2 pt 3 pt 4

Tw; SPOILER FOR CHPT 236 YALL BEEN WARNED, temporary death, blood, gore

Please do not copy or steal my work

Sukuna/Male Reader but can be read as a gender-neutral reader this time.

In summary; the time has come for you to pay your debt to Yuji Itadori. And the one you'll have to save from your lover his the one and only Gojo.

~~~~

You have a debt to pay.

The words echoed in your head as you watched the fight. You didn't doubt your beloved, knowing damn well that Sukuna would win. It was just breaking your heart and soul to have to stand and watch him getting hurt again and again.

You have a debt to pay.

But at what cost? There has been no opportunity to pay the debt you owed Yuji Itadori. Which meant you'd have to save Gojo Satoru. Which meant betraying your one and only.

Well, it was a lie. You had the opportunity to save one of Yuji's friend’s sister, but didn't. Maki’s twin had died and you did nothing. You could let Gojo die to but…

You could feel anger and sadness battling in your heart. You didn't want to do it. The victory should be all to Sukuna. He should be able to savour the sight of the Honored One lying defeated and dead before him.

Instead, Sukuna would have to watch you make sure the man didn't die.

You have a debt to pay

Yet, somehow, you felt bad for Gojo Satoru. Maybe it was why you decided to spare him. The world had been cold and cruel to him. Gifted with power, he had to watch everyone he loved meet an early death. Gojo Satoru was a lone broken soul, you realized. He was more like you than you first thought.

He was the you that failed.

And it hurt even more, watching those two men fighting. This could have been you and Sukuna a thousand years ago if you had given up on him. If Sukuna had decided to not spare you.

You watched with fear as Gojo’s attack collided. Blue hitting Red.

The explosion was atrocious and devastating. You could hear the buildings being disintegrated, the streets cracking as the ground shook violently. Even if you had dust and debris in your eyes, you didn't close them. You needed to see, know if Sukuna had made it.

You felt pride and joy as you spotted his silhouette slowly walking toward you through the dust. In a heart beat, you were on him, arms wrapping around his waist to keep him up. Sukuna’s arms wrapped around your shoulders as he pressed his forehead against yours. You could feel the blood pouring from his missing forearm, from all the wounds he had, but you didn't care.

- “You did it. I'm so proud of you my love.” you whispered before sharing a kiss.

As the dust settled, you turned your attention toward Gojo Satoru. The sight was heartbreaking.

You could only see a pair of legs standing. Behind them, you could barely see Gojo’s upper body laying in a pool of his own blood. You felt your heart breaking as you heard the man’s friends and students crying, screaming, because they still could see nothing.

You have a debt to pay

You turned your attention on Sukuna. You both shared a look before Sukuna closed his four eyes and nodded. You cupped his face, giving a peck on his lips.

- “I am so proud of you. Thank you.”

In a heartbeat, you left your beloved’s side, quickly reaching Gojo Satoru. You kneeled, cradling his upper body in your arms as you began to heal him.

You stared into Gojo’s blue eyes, seeing surprise and curiosity in them. You simply smiled.

- “I have a debt to pay.” you just said, watching as Gojo’s lower body slowly regenerated. Slowly, making sure to not drop him, you took off your haori, putting it on him. “You fought admirably. You have more courage than I thought. You have my respect, Gojo Satoru.”

You felt him shake as he coughed, spitting blood as his guts regrew slowly and you healed his internal injuries.

- “I am sorry. Sorry that the world has been so cold and cruel to you. You deserve better and I hope one day you may find peace and be able to rest. You are a lot like me, believing that dying, killed by someone stronger than you is an honourable death but you are wrong. You shouldn't live thinking about Death. Live for your friends and loved ones. Fight for their safety, but don't run after danger and Death. You will only hurt them. Your Death will break their heart, their very soul.”

Satoru’s breath was short and pained, his eyes clouded by pain. You weren't even sure if he understood you or if his brain was making him hallucinate. With a gentle hand, you moved his bloody hair off his face.

- “Easy, deep breath. I ain't going to let you die. You will live Gojo Satoru. See this as a rebirth, a chance to start again. My debt being paid, me and Sukuna will leave. We won't be a problem anymore, but you'll have to watch out for Kenjaku.”

You watched how soaked in blood your haori was, yet didn't care. You could see Gojo’s limbs moving under it as they regrow.

You watched as Gojo closed his eyes, tears slowly rolling down his cheeks. You didn't know if they were from pain or your words and, for the first time in centuries, you felt compassion. That man cradled in your arms had given everything and still lost everyone. Since childhood he had been seen like a weapon, had a Damocles sword swinging above his head.

Yes.

The world had been horrible to Satoru since the start.

- “I am sorry.”

Again.

For what? Giving away the corpse of his best friend? For letting Sukuna accept the fight and almost kill him? For being behind the return of your beloved and the tragedies that followed?

You watched Satoru’s hand grabbing your forearm and squeezing as if thanking you. Your smile softened as you cradled Satoru closer to your chest, feeling the man slowly falling into a state of semi-consciousness.

You heard running and turned your head, watching Yuji Itadori and Fushiguro Megumi running towards you. From the corner of your eye, you saw how tense Sukuna was, but your beloved didn't move, trusting that no one would hurt you as you healed Gojo.

The first to reach you was Itadori.

- “Easy. Take him slowly.” You said, watching Itadori kneeling next to you, hands all over his teacher. You watched as tears rolled down his cheeks. “I’m not finishing with healing him, he is still hurt. Here, take him like I do.”

You helped the teen, slowly moving Gojo from your arms to his. You watched Itadori wrapping his arms possessively and protectively around his teacher. He closed his eyes, chin resting against Satoru’s head.

- “Thank you. Thank you for saving him.” He sobbed, not looking at you.

- “You are welcome.” you answered, hands still resting on Gojo.

Without a word, Megumi kneeled next to Itadori, looking at Gojo, then you. There was so much hate in those eyes. He didn't need to speak for you to understand how much he despised you. The kid probably had your murder on his mind.

Without a word, you got up once you finished healing Satoru and left. You joined Sukuna, wrapping your arms around each others. Silently, you pressed your head against his neck, feeling Sukuna kissing your hair.

Sukuna had won and you had paid your debt. Yet, you still felt bad, your heart stuck in a cold grip in your chest. You felt tears rolling down your cheeks, but they were quickly chased away by Sukuna's lips.

It was finally over, with no dead to grieve. So why did it still feel like it?

[southernsolarpunk]

Hey check this out

I was making a zine (solarpunk ofc) and decided to use a bunch of old National Geographic magazines to cut up and use in a scrappy diy scrapbook fashion and of course I started reading them. This one in particular:

It caught my eye because it’s from September 1980 & talks about the Middle East. My brain wonders if they mention Palestine and they do! I copied the text for accessibility, but I put pictures at the end of the original pages.

“Jerusalem: reunited or occupied? The question has divided the city's 400,000 Jews and 100,000 Arabs since Israel annexed East Jerusalem in 1967.

BEIRUT, JANUARY 1975. Armed soldiers lead me through labyrinthine back streets, up a dark stairway to a midnight rendez-vous. Only a bare bulb lights the temporary command post; Yasir Arafat, chairman of the Palestine Liberation Organization, seldom dares spend two days in the same place. “Our argument is not with the Jews” He tells me. "We are both Semites. They have lived with us for centuries. Our enemies are the Zionist colonizers and their backers who insist Palestine belongs to them exclusively.

We Arabs claim deep roots there too."

Two decades ago Palestinians were to be found in United Nations Relief Agency camps at places like Gaza and Jericho, in a forlorn and pitiable state. While Palestinian spokesmen pressed their case in world cap-itals, the loudest voice the world heard was that of terrorists, with whom the word Palestinian came to be associated. Jordan fought a war to curb them. The disintegration of Lebanon was due in part to the thousands of refugees within its borders.

Prospects for peace brightened, however, when President Anwar Sadat of Egypt, most powerful of the Arab countries, made his historic trip to Israel in November 1977. A year later Sadat and Israeli Prime Minister Menachem Begin signed the Camp David accords, a framework for the return of the occupied Sinai Peninsula to Egypt.

The former enemies established diplomatic relations and opened mail, telephone, and airline communications.

The Camp David accords also addressed the all-important Palestinian question but left it vague. Sadat insists that any lasting peace depends on an eventual Palestinian homeland in the Israeli-occupied West Bank and Gaza. Israel agrees to limited autonomy for those regions, but, fearful of a new and hostile Palestinian state suddenly planted on its borders, insists that Israeli troops must maintain security there.

Crowded Rashidiyah refugee camp, set among orange groves south of the ancient Phoenician port of Tyre in Lebanon, lies on the front lines. Frequent pounding by Israeli military jets and warships seeking PLO targets has war-hardened its population, some 13,700 Palestinians.

At the schoolyard I watched a solemn flag raising. Uniformed ashbal, or lion cubs, stood rigid as color guards briskly ran up the green-white-and-black Palestinian flag.

Ranging in age from 8 to 12, they might have been Cub Scouts— except for the loaded rifles they held at present arms. Behind them stood two rows of girls, zaharat, or little flowers. Same age, same weapons.

Over lunch of flat bread, hummus, yo-gurt, and chicken I commented to my hosts, a group of combat-ready fedayeen, that 30 years of bitter war had settled nothing nor gained the Palestinians one inch of their homeland. Was there no peaceful way to press their cause?

"Yes, and we are doing it. Finally, after 30 years, most countries in the United Nations recognize that we too have rights in Palestine. But we feel that until your country stops its unconditional aid to Israel, we have two choices: to fight, or to face an unmarked grave in exile."

AFTER CROSSING the Allenby Bridge from Amman, I drove across the fertile Jordan Valley through Arab Jericho and past some of the controversial new Jewish settlements: Mitzpe Jericho, Tomer, Maale Adumim, Shilat. Then as I climbed through the steep stony hills to Jerusalem, I saw that it too had changed. A ring of high-rise apartments and offices was growing inexorably around the occupied Arab side of the walled town. Within the wall, too, scores of Arab houses had been leveled during extensive reconstruction.

"Already 64 settlements have been built on the West Bank," said a Christian Palestinian agriculturist working for an American church group in Jerusalem. "And another 10 are planned," he said. Unfolding a copy of the master plan prepared in 1978 by the World Zionist Organization, he read: "Real-izing our right to Eretz-Israel... with or without peace, we will have to learn to live with the minorities...

The Israeli Government has reaffirmed the policy. In Prime Minister Menachem Begin's words: "Settlement is an inherent and inalienable right. It is an integral part of our national security."

"Security" is a word deeply etched into the Israeli psyche. The country has lived for 30 years as an armed camp, always on guard against PLO raids and terrorist bombings.

Whenever such incidents occur, the response is quick: even greater retaliation.

In Jerusalem I met with David Eppel, an English-language broadcaster for the Voice of Israel. "We must continue to build this country. Israel is our lawful home, our des-tiny. We have the determination, and an immense pool of talent, to see it through." His cosmopolitan friends a city plan-ner, a psychology professor, an author gathered for coffee and conversation at David's modern apartment on Jerusalem's Leib Yaffe Road.

Amia Lieblich's book, Tin Soldiers on Jerusalem Beach, studies the debilitating effects almost constant war has had on life in the Jewish state, a nation still surrounded by enemies. As she and her husband kindly drove me to my hotel in Arab Jerusalem afterward, some of that national apprehension surfaced in the writer herself.

"We don't often come over to this part of town," she said. "Especially at night."

I DROVE OUT of the Old City in the dark of morning and arrived a few hours later at the nearly finished Israeli frontier post, whence a shuttle bus bounced me through no-man's-land to the Egyptian ter-minal. As a result of the Egyptian-Israeli treaty, it was possible for the first time since 1948 to travel overland from Jerusalem to Cairo. An Egyptian customs man opened my bags on a card table set up in the sand. I took a battered taxi into nearby El Arish, to a sleepy bank that took 45 minutes to convert dollars into Egyptian pounds, Then 1 hired a Mercedes for the

200-mile run across the northern Sinai des-ert, the Suez Canal, and the Nile Delta. By sundown Cairo was mine.

Despite official government optimism, I found many in Cairo worried that President Sadat's bold diplomatic gestures might fail.

The city was noticeably tense as Israel officially opened its new embassy on Mohi el-Din Abu el-Ez Street in Cairo's Dukki quarter. Black-uniformed Egyptian troops guarded the chancery and nearby intersections as the Star of David flew for the first time in an Arab capital. Across town, police with fixed bayonets were posted every ten feet around the American Embassy. Others were posted at the TV station and the larger hotels. Protests were scattered, mostly peaceful. None disturbed the cadence of the city.

Welcoming ever larger delegations of tourists and businessmen from Europe and the U.S., Cairo was busier than ever-and more crowded. Despite a building boom, many Egyptians migrating from the countryside, perhaps 10,000 a month, still find housing only by squatting among tombs at the City of the Dead, the huge old cemetery on the southeast side of the capital.

Even with the new elevated highway and wider bridge across the Nile, half-hour traffic standstills are common. Commuters arrive at Ramses Station riding even the roofs of trains, then cram buses until axles break.

Cairo smog, a corrosive blend of diesel fumes and hot dust from surrounding des-erts, rivals tear gas.

Despite the rampant blessings of prog-ress, Cairo can still charm. In the medieval Khan el-Khalili bazaar near Cairo's thousand-year-old Al-Azhar University, I sought out Ahmad Saadullah's sidewalk café. I found that 30 piasters (45 cents) still brings hot tea, a tall water pipe primed with tobacco and glowing charcoal, and the latest gossip. The turbaned gentleman on the carpeted bench opposite was unusually talk-ative; we dispensed with weather and the high cost of living and got right to politics:

"Of course I am behind President Sadat, but he is taking a great risk. The Israelis have not fully responded. If Sadat fails, no other Arab leader will dare try for peace again for a generation."

Across town at the weekly Akhbar El-Yom newspaper, one of the largest and most widely read in the Middle East, chief editor Abdel-Hamid Abdel-Ghani drove home that same point.

"What worries me most is that President Sadat's agreement with Israel has isolated Egypt from our brother nations," he told me. "When Saudi Arabia broke with us, it was a heavy loss. The Saudis are our close neighbors. Now they have canceled pledges for hundreds of millions in development aid to Egypt. Some 200,000 Egyptians-teach-ers, doctors, engineers live and work in the kingdom.

"And Saudi Arabia, guardian of the holy cities of Mecca and Medina, remains for Muslim Egypt a spiritual homeland."

This magazine was published before my mom was born, and yet the sentiments have basically unchanged. An interesting look at the past, and more proof this didn’t start October 7th. (But imagine my followers already knew that)

[wint3r-h3art]

Once Upon A Dream | Sinister Strange

Synopsis: You’re from a world where Strange sacrificed himself. He’s in a world where you were sacrificed instead. A dream brings you together, but his obsession traps you there unknowingly. To you, everything was a dream, but in reality, it’s more real than you realize.

Word count: 3.1K

Warnings: contains DUB-CON elements!!  Deception, angst, unrequited love, possessive and obsessive behavior, abduction, unprotected p in v sex, creampied. Proceed at your own risk! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT !! 18+ ONLY

 A/N: Heard y’all want Sinister Strange, so here it is. No beta, so if I missed anything, I apologized. If you do like my works, please comment and reblog! It means a lot and I love your feedback! Please follow @wint3r-library​ for updates! 

Divider by @firefly-graphics​ Banner by @maysdigitalarts

*** Do not copy, translate, or repost my works anywhere else! 

Part 2

The world tore asunder. Reality splintered and cracked, threatened to disintegrate at any given  moment just like his sanity. His perennial grief turned into an obsession. 

Just like a phantom, he walked between worlds in the hope of tethering you to this monochromatic wasteland, where he and you could be together till the world turned to cinder.

His lips pulled back into a rare smile as he watched you from the stain-glass windows, pondering if this was simply a trick from his fractured mind. Did the spell really work or was this just another nightmare he had to endure? Long, slender fingers curled into a fist, digging into his own flesh till it drew blood. Strange smirked at the realization.

Oh, how he longed for your voice and touch. This reunion shall be sweet.

One moment you were in bed and the next you were here, waking up to the familiar landscape unfolding before you. Coldness seeped into your bones as you fought through the haze of debris as you tried to reach the one place you’ve known so well. 

A dream, you thought as your feet took you from pure muscle memory. The first time you were here, you found him, wandering in this desolate wasteland, alone and cold. The first time he saw you, you could remember his tears brimming eyes watching you as if he was looking at the sun for the first time. There were a few occasions when your dream ended abruptly, leaving you aching in your waking hours. Some days were worse than the other when you yearn for his touch–some days you found yourself crying and sobbing at the realization that he could never be real.

You always felt as if those dreams stemmed from the fact that you’ve never gotten to tell Strange how you feel before his sacrifice. The words that were left unsaid eroded into nothing more than regrets, which in turn haunted you to these days.

You exhaled sharply through your nose as you stood before the Sanctum Sanctorum, broken and slowly disintegrated—fractured just like the rest of this world. Your hand reached out to grasp the worn-out brass knob, only for the heavy wooden door to groan and moan as it slowly opened, revealing the long staircase that seemed to lead up to nowhere. If this was real, you would have run, but you know this was just a dream and nothing can harm you here.

Your eye scanned the surroundings, hoping to find the familiar face. You took a few steps forward, feeling the dust and rubbles crunched beneath your feet. Once you reached the top floor, you were greeted with a dark cloud, swirling in an endless loop waiting for this decaying world to collapse upon itself.

Your name fell from his lips as he stepped out of the shadow. You gasped as you turned, realizing that you’d been holding your breath all these times. He was so quiet that he almost resembled a statue. Skin ashen and pale, almost translucent, stretched tight over his distinct high cheekbones. Dark circles marred his handsome visage. Those once bright cerulean eyes looked almost dark. A sad smile etched on his features, watching you with adoration. He wasn’t the Stephen you’ve known, but there was a familiarity to him that you couldn’t pinpoint. The air seemed thicker as he took a few steps forward.

“Stephen…”

He closed his eyes, inhaling the way your voice uttered his name out loud. How long has he yearned to hear it from you? He had endured years of penance after losing you, walking in between dreams, trying to find a version of you that was alive and whole. Perhaps he took a step too far by punishing his other variants for being able to live happily with you by killing them out of pure jealousy and selfishness. If he wasn’t able to have you, why should they?

He had no regrets of course. He was more than willing to burn the world down if it meant he got to have you again, and he did do just that. 

One world at a time.

“Darling,” he said. His voice was deep and low, and rumbling like a gentle earthquake. How you ached for him that your eyes began to brim with tears. You believed that this wasn’t the Stephen Strange you loved, but your projection of him, the image your brain created to soothe the ache in your heart.

“I’ve missed you,” you said innocently, unaware of the truth–the harsh reality that you were in fact his prisoner now.  His hand reached out to cup your face, and you leaned into his touch willingly that he almost wept. His eyes gleamed beneath the dim light of the crumbling world. 

“And I miss you too,” he said as leaned in till the tip of his nose brushed yours. His voice was no more than a breathless whisper.  His heart was elated that it was beating frantically. Every part of him hummed and buzzed. He shuddered at the warmth of your skin. Oh, how he missed the way that you feel.

His lips brushed yours with the gentlest of touch. You could feel him trembling against yours as he moved with a slow deliberate pace, tasting and savoring the touch he had craved for so long. His hand slid to the nape of your neck, holding you there as his mouth slowly devoured you with a need that made your heart ached.

For a dream, everything felt almost real. You blamed for the years you have saved yourself for seeking another companion. Strange lifted your legs and pressed himself against yours, making you gasp out loud as you felt his bulge pressing against your aching core. Strange pulled away momentarily, kissing you along your jawline, chanting your name like a breathless incantation.

He hoisted you up with his hands slid underneath your ass and carried you to the large grand piano, where he laid you there. Dexterous fingers pulled at your clothes and stripped you until you were bare beneath him.

Strange pulled you forward, your legs draped over his broad shoulders while your sopping pussy was only a few inches away from his hungry gaze. He took a sharp exhale. His mouth salivating, his erection strained against his pants.

He ran his finger down at the seam of your folds, then spread them out with two of his fingers, baring more of yourself to him. A wordless gasp left your lips when he dipped his head. His mouth lowered to your most intimate flesh, tongue flattened against the silken skin as he began to lap at your juices. Your body strained underneath his touch when he swept over your clit. Your hand flew down to his hair, pulling and tugging every time he sucked a bit too hard.

He was toying with you, swirling and flicking at the hard sensitive nub repeatedly, while his tongue gathered your overflowing nectar and drank you up greedily. Searing hot desire pooled in the pit of your stomach and spread throughout your body like a wildfire. The more he swiped his tongue over your clit, the more on the edge you became until all you could do was gasp for breath.

His mouth was kissing you lower, licking at your entrance before delving into your warm cavernous hole repeatedly, fucking you till all you could think of was his tongue.

Your body was practically straining and tightening with every shallow penetration of his tongue. You were arched off the piano, desperate for your release. But Strange was in no hurry. 

As a matter of fact, he took his sweet time making you howl and moan for him, stringing you up like a cord that was ready to snap at any moment. His devotion to please you was endless. 

“Stephen, please,” you begged and he chuckled softly, sending a vibration over your clit. Your body hummed and buzzed. Even the smallest movement coming from him sent you over the edge. 

A breathless gasp tore from your lips when you felt his long slender finger enter your body in a lewd squelching sound.

“Oh God!,” you panted at the slow, deliberate friction his finger could offer you.

“You taste so divine, sweetheart. I could sit here and devour you all day,” he said in a low growl as he removed his finger and brought it into his lips before he plunged it back into your needy pussy. “Your sweet, sweet cunt is all mine now.”

You couldn’t even utter coherent words, let alone deny him with your state of mind. All you wanted was the sweet release.

“Beg me,” he commanded as he looked up with those dark eyes. “Beg me to let you cum, sweetheart.”

You practically whimpered at his command. “Please, please Stephen. Please let me cum.”

“Who do you belong to?”

“You! I belong to you, Stephen. Please!”

A smirk quirked at the corner of his mouth. “And whose pussy am I eating?”

“Y-your. Hnnng… your Stephen. It’s yours.” Your body was practically shaken under his gaze.

“So I can fuck it whenever, wherever I want, right?”

You nodded. “Yes. It’s all yours. Please, Stephen! Please, I want to cum so bad.”

His lips pulled back into a satisfying grin before he inserted another finger inside you and began to fuck you with his fingers plunged in and out of you with intent. His mouth was on your clit once more, sucking and licking you even harder than before. 

You didn’t know how long, but you lay there in a daze before your body exploded. You were unraveling and coming apart under his touch, your hand bunched at his hair and pulled at it fiercely as you rode out your orgasm.

His name fell from your lips like a breathless incantation as your body slowly came down from the high. Stephen smirked before he stood up and lowered his pants and pulled out his cock. He stroked himself a couple of times before lining the fat, pink bulbous head against your heady entrance. With one forceful thrust, he sheathed himself completely into your welcoming heat.

He hauled your legs upward, hands pulling you back to meet his thrust. He was so impossibly deep that every time you tried to open your mouth, no noises came out. You could feel his balls slapped against your ass every time he pushed forward. His muscles bunched and corded with each movement. 

“Look at me as I fuck you,” he demanded and your eyes snapped, locking into his face. Your lips parted every time he pushed just a bit harder than before. If it was possible, he could practically rearrange your inside with the force alone.

He was rough and possessive as his hand curled around your neck. Your body skidded up and down the piano. The sound of skin slapping against skin tore through the silence.

His fingers dug into your flesh as he felt his release was getting close. He pounded you a couple of times before his release exploded right inside you, filling you up with his white sticky cum. You peered through your hazy eyes. He looked like he was in agony as he gasped and moaned till he filled you up to drop off his essence. And when he opened his eyes, you noticed he was glowing with satisfaction. 

His warm, sticky release rolled out of your slit, making you wince slightly. Stephen took a step back before he tucked himself back into his pants. Perspiration dampened his forehead. His hair stuck up in different directions thanks to you. 

His hand slid up and down your thighs before he proceeded to kiss your knee. Devotion filled his gaze as he moved up to kiss your lips. You couldn’t tell anymore if this was really a dream because everything felt so real. Your orgasm—the way he was fucking you, everything about this was so much more. 

Your eyelids felt heavy as exhaustion took over you. You knew that when you woke up, all of this would be gone. All of this. All of him will be no more.

Or so you thought.

Your eyes fluttered open at the faint sound of a music playing from an old record playing. The song sounded familiar that you started to hum the words.

I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream.

I know you, that look in your eyes is so familiar and gleam…

You slowly sat up, rubbing your eyes with the palm of your hand. Your vision blurred but you could make out the dark stillness of the room. When you shifted to move, you noticed the distinct ache between your thighs. You stopped and then moved again, placing both of your feet on the cold floor. You hissed at the soreness but decided to follow the sound of the music. The hardwood floor groaned and moaned beneath your feet as you stepped out.

You should be awoken by now, but here you were, walking in this maze of what used to be the New York sanctum. Confusion wasn’t even the half of it. Perhaps this was a nightmare. Dread filled the pit of your stomach in every step you took.

You stood in front of a large wooden door, listening to the sound of the music slowly coming to the end.

As you were about to turn the brass knob, the door cracked open very easily, revealing Strange sitting there, legs crossed over one another as he watched you. A cold creeping feeling slithered down your spine as your skin pricked with goosebumps. Your heart pounded heavily against your rib cage. Bile threatened to rise up to your throat. Panic began to set in.

“You’re awake,” he spoke first as he stood up. He looked differently than before.

You noticed the sunken cheeks, the hollowness in his eyes. The way his finger tips looked like they just dipped inside a paint pot. You swallowed.

“What’s the matter?” he asked again.

“This isn’t real,” you mumbled shakily. You watched his dark brows pull together as he reached out to touch you, but you took a step back. He winced at your rejection. 

“I am as real as you are,” he said carefully, hand resting on a book that was strapped to him by the hip.

“You were only supposed to be in my dream, and only in my dream. Whatever this is. It’s not right.”

Strange’s stared at you for a few moment before he took in a deep inhale through his nose.

“And here I thought I was being careful,” he sighed before his expression shifted into a cruel cold smile. You could feel your tears well up at the corner of your eyes as you watched him pacing left to right, with both hands behind his back. 

“What do you mean?”

“I brought you here to be with me of course. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

Your gut sank as you stared at him with a horrible realization. 

“All the time we spent together in your dream. You always told me how much you wanted to be with me, so to show you my unyielding devotion, I’ve focused all my research to bring you here,” he said, tapping the Darkhold at his side. “I do apologize for taking way too long, but at last, we are together now. Isn’t it wonderful?”

“This is wrong, Stephen,” you took another step back, but Strange took a few long strides, and he was standing in front of you before you could blink. 

“What is so wrong about us being together?” he asked as he cradled your face in his hand. You shuddered at the way his dark fingertips slightly dug into your skin. 

“I don’t belong here–”

“Of course you do. You belong with me,” he said, stroking your cheek with his thumb. “Every part of you belong to me,” he said firmly before his eyes softened. “When you left me before, I didn’t have time to tell you how I feel. I was so heartbroken because you didn’t even say goodbye to me, and before I knew it, you were gone,” he said through gritted teeth as tears slowly welled up in his eyes. “You made the choice to sacrifice yourself for the world, but the world didn’t deserve you.” Tears rolled down his cheeks as he looked at you. “They moved on, knowing full well that the only reason they survived was because of you. How cruel were they to not feel any resentment?”

“So you tore this world apart, to punish them? It’s not right, Stephen. I’m not even her. I’m just another variation of her. It’s not right at all.”

“I don’t need to be right!” His voice raised loudly. You swallowed in shock as you watched his expression change. His behavior became more erratic. “I don’t need to be right. I just need you! Here, with me. That’s all that matters. “

“What about what I want?”

“You told me yourself that you want to be with me. You told me every time you came here, of how much you want me…Even a few hours ago, you told me that you are mine.”

You winced at this. You wanted to scream. You were being deceived and taken advantage of. The man before you were not who you think he was. 

“I don’t want this,” you said as you shook your head as more tears soaked your cheeks. “You tricked me!”

“And I’ve killed for you!” he retorted back. Isn’t that enough? I stained my hands with blood just so that we can be together, and look at us now?” a cruel smile slowly curved at the corner of his lips. “Now we can live happily ever after.” He said as pulled you closer to him till your body molded into his. “Like you always wanted.”

“This isn’t the happy ending I wanted,” you pleaded with him as he cradled your face in his hands. The touch was gentle, almost as if you were about to break. “Please, Stephen. Please take me back to my world.” You were practically crying now, begging and pleading for him to see reasons.

His gaze soften as he pulled you closer to him. Your body molded into his. You could smell the distinct burnt ashes on him. For a moment, you felt a glimmer of hope.

“No.”

The one simple word shattered your heart as he pulled away, leaving you there shaking. His smile was no longer on his face. His eyes went cold.

 “I can’t love you like this,” you said in between your sobs.

“If you can’t love, then you just have to fear me,” he said before he stepped out, closing the door behind him. The music from the old record player began to play again. Over and over at the last part of the song as you sobbed into your hands.

 But if I know you, I know what you'll do,

You'll love me at once, the way you did once upon a dream.

A/N: I know it’s not how the Darkhold works, but y’know for the sake of plot, we do canon divergent here ✌️

[reticent-writer2-0]

what if the hashiras meeting a Reader who's a special half demon his mother was turned but died during childbirth and Reader gained all the powers of a demon with none of the weaknesses and now he hunts demons

So sorry for the wait. I have not forgotten about the other requests but I did forget they were on this account so that's my bad😔.

♛┈⛧┈┈•༶༶•┈┈⛧┈♛

You walked the earth as a normal human. The sunlight didn't effect you, the need for human flesh didn't either, but your eyes we're a dead giveaway.

They shine with a (e/c) gleam that screamed 'demon'.

You grew up in a house with your father. He was a demon but he never acted like one aside from the need for blood. The village saw your father as dangerous but you were just a child in their eyes.

On night you father lost all humanity he had and massacred most of the village. You had never seen an actual demon but seeing your father, you started to grasp why everyone was so weary of him.

You watched as they killed him. He reached out for you but you just stood there. Watching with tears in your eyes.

The few that survived decided it was better if you left. They didn't want to to take the chance of you turning too.

'Being alone isn't so bad' you lied to yourself. It was torture, you took your emotions out on every demon you saw. Weather it be anger, sadness, jealousy, it didn't matter.

'We should've killed you when found out what you were'

'Your a monster'

'You never belonged here'

Their voices haunted you, but you couldn't blame them. They were scared. You were too.

You never wanted to be a demon, so you did everything in your power to act human.

Unfortunately you were found out by the butterfly hashira when a lower rank saw you take a heavy hit.

She was pleasant to be around even when she knew you were a demon. When she confronted you about it you told her everything you knew about your demon counterpart.

Your blood demon art.

First Phase: Pain killer (passive)

it allows anyone or any demon around you to feel the pain what you feel until your pain stops. It activates whe

Second Phase: breaking point (active)

While your aponent is in pain and you've regenerated you can absorb their energy and use it against them. If they are demons you can copy their demon art, if they are slayers you can copy their style if you use a sword.

You agreed to tell the rest if the hashira.

-------

You were escorted by a kokushi to be put on trail for your life.

"Are you sure it's a demon. It can stay in the sun without consequence." A slayer sitting high in a tree with a snake said as you arrived with the kokushi.

"Yes sir, he can regenerate and doesn't die from normal attacks on him." The kokushi bowed to them. "But his-" they weren't able to finish as you were grabbed away very roughly by the wind hashira.

He held you by your hair and put his sword to your throat.

"Let's see it.” 

“WAIT DON’T-” You screamed as he cut your head off. They all watch as your head disintegrates and your body falls lifeless. 

After a few minutes your body starts to regenerate, excruciating sounds similar to screaming can be heard for miles as your blood demon art activates. 

The first to be affected by it was Mitsuri and Tengen, they both cover their ears in pain, soon the rest follows. The pain was similar to getting your head ripped off nerve by nerve.

The sound doesn’t effect Kyojuro as much as the other seeing as he busted his eardrums but even with busted eardrums he felt the pain.

when your head was fully regenerated the sound stopped and you panted with your head down in exhaustion. Looking up from the ground you see the hashira with their hand still covering their ears. You didn’t even notice Kagaya and his children sit on the engawa completely unbothered by what happened.

“My children what has happened.” He said. 

'It didn't effect them?' you thought to yourself.

“I’m sorry sir I tried to warn master sanemi about Y/n’s blood demon art." The kokushi bowed many times to master kagaya.

"It's fine, I hope everyone wasn't hurt to badly." He replied looking up at the hashira gripping their head except for Kyojuro.

"WE ARE FINE MASTER." He said enthusiastically making the other groan.

"Please don't yell Kyo, if you couldn't tell the rest of us are in pain." Tengen groaned. Kyojuro chuckled while patting his back over mitsuri's head.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to cause any trouble." The kokushi helped you up while you talked.

"You didn't. Sanemi is a wild card, you couldn't have known what he was going to do. Now to the problem at hand. What are we going to do with Y/n." He said with his usual smile even though it's a grim topic. "Y/n what is your story."

"I lived in a village until it was attacked by demons. The villager thought it was my fault and kicked me out. I've killed every demon I've come across, I'll never kill or eat humans. My father taught me my morals." You said looking kagaya in the eye.

"Seeing as one demon is among us with no problem I don't see why we can't accept another, especially one who doesn't seem to want to hurt us!" Rengoku exclaimed not as loud this time but still loud enough to make tengen shudder. By now tengen was the only one still in pain.

"A demon is a demon soon enough it will have to eat, who knows who it'll kill." The snake hashira said. You hated the way he refered to you as it instead of a person.

"Well we've seen a demon who is capable of protecting others, I just want to keep a close eye on him." Shinobu said. After she said that it was a moment of pregnant silence before someone decided to speak again.

"I'll vouch for him. I believe we could learn from him. He's half human after all." Shinobu said with a raised hand. Everyone was shocked. "He stayed at the butterfly estate for 2 weeks and hasn't shown any signs of demon tendencies. In fact he was been a wonderful guest." She said smiling to you.

"Well then does any one object to shinobu monitoring Y/n." Nobody said anything. "Hmm, Y/n will be under the watchful of shinobu."

You life is now in shinobu's hands.

-----------

Life with Shinobu was like a breath of fresh air. She taught you how to wield a sword properly, how to treat wound, and how to make medicine and poison.

Now you were an official demon slayer.

♛┈⛧┈┈•༶༶•┈┈⛧┈♛

[wannaeatramyeon]

Tom Lee with Unhinged F!Reader

You meet the biggest of Daddys. (Masterlist for series. Again, dedicated to @the-eclipsed-luna. )

"You've dispatched all 3 of my children. What am I, as a loving parent, supposed to do?"

Tom Lee approaches you in some gaudy designer outfit. (Money really can't buy taste.)

You've always preferred to operate in the shadows, but you couldn't help if you were becoming a bigger than life character.

After all, it was only fitting to have a reputation to match your skills.

"What's your name, little girl?"

Again with the little girl? You refrain from rolling your eyes. You're used to a patronising tone disguised as pleasantry.

You shrug as you step over Eli Jang's weakened body, noting the way his eyes dart uncertainly between you both. "Call me whatever you want, Daddy."

Tom guffaws at your response, "I usually prefer danglers, but I like you."

"Well lucky for you, I love danglers."

.

.

You evade his attacks without effort, willing him to break you, but Tom continues wearing a smile.

It is almost insulting, the way he doesn't take you seriously. That was usually your shtick.

You would have pouted and grown irritable if you didn't easily flip this mountain of a man onto his back. You even managed to break his nose before he threw you off.

Old men and their old biases. The crunch of broken bone is especially satisfying this time. That'll teach him.

You notice the way he staggers in surprise, blood streaming from his nostrils and his eyes watering in pain.

Eyes flashing maliciously, dopamine rushing through your vein. Yes, this was more like it.

Cogs spin frantically in Tom's brain. The physics just doesn't make sense. How does a woman of your size manage to easily throw his body weight around?

And the force as you broke his nose. He felt the way you restrained yourself. You could have just as easily crushed his skull in that one move.

No ultra-instinct, no black eyes, no copy. Just raw, unadulterated, pure power.

He watches as you let out a haunting giggle, mimicking a phallic object with your hand.

You were toying with him as much as he was toying with you.

Has he ever seen such unmatched strength?

How is this even possible?

Where have you been lurking?

.

.

"Shh," you lean over and hold your finger to Tom's lips. The sound of him choking and gurgling on his own blood is really off-putting.

You're trying to work on your list damnit.

The flap of paper is in danger of disintegrating into nothing; covered in blood and literal guts, dog-eared and illegible.

Still. Who else, who else. You're running out of names.

You've made yourself comfortable sitting on Tom's chest, deep in thought and tapping your pen against your chin, as he struggles for breath.

Tom watches as you quietly think and ponder. As if you didn't just cause severe internal bleeding and was the reason for his pain and defeat. As if you didn't also wipe the floor with Eli Jang. As if you haven't gone toe to toe with some of the strongest fighters and come out victorious each time.

They were never even a fair match.

The penny drops for him, you're on a fruitless search. You have no equal, no counterpart. He would bet the White Tiger that there isn't anyone even close to you, you're just wasting your time.

"You're wasting your time," he manages to force out.

You pause.

"Maybe," you turn and look at him, your face taking on a fiendish appearance, "But I'm having fun breaking you all."