#ow scenario

[sadkois]

KAZAMA & NISHIKI FT. RANDOM STUFF IVE SEEN ON THE INTERNET PT. 1

here u go @koissad (I LOVE U NISHIKI IM SORRY)

[mayasaura]

I think the best possible time travel fic would be to slingshot Harrow from the end of Harrow the Ninth back to the beginning of Gideon the Ninth. Highest hilarity potential, highest angst potential, highest pining potential

Things Harrow knows now that she didn't before:

Who Alecto was

The names of God and his lyctors

The secret of lyctorhood

That the lyctor trials are a death trap

Gideon could be easily persuaded to die for her

Gideon dying for her is the worst thing possible

She would do almost anything to prevent Gideon from dying

Gideon's sword is haunted by a very angry and oddly familiar-looking woman who bears a remarkable resemblance to Gideon

Things Harrow still doesn't know:

What Alecto is

Gideon's parentage

Jackshit about BOE

Mercy and Augustine are both traitors

Things Harrow knew then and still knows now:

Gideon—this Gideon here and now—hates her

She owes a debt of two hundred lives and a future to the Ninth

The survival of the Ninth depends on her becoming a lyctor

[drizztdohurtin]

Rolan's First Day As a Father

pairing: Rolan x afab!reader ("she", "her", "wife" used)

[ masterlist ] [ wip list ]

Okay, I wrote this in the "Rolan: fatherhood" headcanons but erm.... it got really long and turned into a blurb, so I'm releasing it separately so that I can add more actual headcanons to the post (I love when my own thoughts make my stomach hurt)

Warnings: this is hella angst, and a little comfort, please buckle in

would recommend reading my 'deciding to start a family, and conceiving' post before continuing

His attention had been only on you, a never-ending string of loving encouragement falling from his lips as you labored to deliver your baby; your strength and persistence only fueling his own, not allowing the anguish he felt from seeing you in so much pain to get the better of him.

The second he hears those first big cries when your baby is finally born, every single cell in his body is flooded with the parental bond he had been so utterly desperate to feel while you were pregnant. He focuses his attention on helping you get a little more comfortable now that the hardest part is over, praising you for how incredible you did as the doctor and cleric checked over you and your baby.

Rolan looks up with wide eyes to see the cleric carefully handing the newborn to you; a weary but thrilled laugh leaving your mouth upon seeing his beautiful red skin and adorable little tail for the first time.

Rolan goes motionless, staring at you cradling your newborn through the tears beginning to trickle into his vision. Time slowed as the overwhelming waves of love crashed into him - every single fear that he had while you were pregnant going out of the window, never to return again. He hadn't even held his baby and yet he already knew that if he had to take an ice knife to the chest every second of every day until his last day to protect him, he would in a heartbeat.

That night while you slept, he'd sit and rock his newborn, eyes full of adoration, tracing over every one of his features as he slept peacefully in his arms - trying to commit the image of his son to memory as if he'd never see him again.

He eventually works up the courage to gently graze the pad of his thumb over the baby's delicate features that mirrored his own: the light red skin, the bright yellow eyes, the black nails, the long pointed ears, and the tiny ridged tail that was barely the length of his own hand - wondering if his horns would be black like his, too.

If anyone had been watching Rolan at that moment, they'd see an expression of deep contentment and affection gracing his features as he traced his son's face - but then they'd see his smile fade, his eyes widen, and his lip begin to quiver as he fights back tears.

They'd watch as Rolan realized: this was the same sight his own parents had seen before they abandoned him.

When Rolan looked down at his baby boy, he saw the most perfect being in the world, the ultimate testament of your love, a blessing from the Gods that he did not believe he deserved.

And tears began to fall from his eyes as he tried to imagine it.

He tried to imagine watching the person he loved most in the world carry his child for months, laboring every day and night to create their son out of nothing.

He tried to imagine watching you go through hours of pain - pain that would bring even the strongest to their knees in surrender - to give birth to their son.

And then he tried to imagine looking down at his child and seeing anything but perfection.

He tried to feel hatred and disgust for the very being that he'd burn cities to the ground to protect

He tried to feel anything but unconditional love for the perfect angel that you had gone through so much pain to create.

And, obviously, he couldn't.

His head started spinning with emotions - the fire of his anger and pain being doused by the tranquility of his love and adoration for the tiny tiefling in his arms. He did his best to wipe his face without disturbing the sleeping boy in his arms, but it didn't work.

The bittersweet cries rang through his ears, momentarily erasing his own troubles, consumed by the singular desire to provide comfort - offering gentle kisses as he drew his son closer to his chest. He allowed himself to soak up the moment, gently leaning his cheek on his son's head as he rocked him back and forth - only realizing once his son's cries diminished that he had been purring.

Rolan had never been fond of that particular part of his lineage - though he had become less self-conscious about it when he had found out how much you loved it years ago. And now, witnessing how his body had instinctively reacted to calm his crying child, he had never been more thankful for it.

He softly pressed his nose and lips to the top of his son's head, giving him more gentle kisses and breathing in the heavenly newborn smell - before pulling away to look at his sweet face once again.

Rolan knew he'd always love him, that there was nothing his child could do that would make him stop loving him - and he promised this to his son in the gentlest whisper he could muster as tiny, bright yellow eyes peered back into his own.

He promised that he'd always keep him safe; that he'd always keep him fed, healthy, and warm.

He promised that he'd always take care of him and heal him when he was hurt.

He promised that he'd never leave him, that he'd never know the pain he felt growing up.

And Rolan took great solace in knowing his son would never feel the pain and abandonment that he felt as a child - in knowing that he would do everything for his son that his parents didn't do for him.

[yandere-sins]

Happy Valentine’s, my Love

a/n: Happy Valentine’s guys! I hope you have a lovely day, regardless of the purpose of the holiday or if you’re celebrating it. Remember that if there’s nothing else to love, we can still love Yandere (;

Warning: Yandere, Detailed Violence/Gore, Long Post, Abuse mention

Valentine's Day has never been your favorite celebration of the year.

When you were single, it showed you just how alone you were as you passed by happy, kissing couples on the streets. Halloween, Christmas, and birthdays—those were all festivities shared with family and friends, so you enjoyed them as long as they kept your mind off things. When you finally got your first boyfriend, you thought that for sure, Valentine's would be enjoyable from now on too. 

But you were wrong.

You loved him. You would have sworn to anyone doubting you that you loved that cruel bastard of a man who didn't care about your poor, desperate heart, pleading to be loved by him. Being with him broke you, and latest when Valentine's Day came around, and he decided to go out with his friends rather than stay with you, you realized he didn't feel as strongly about you as you did about him. Leaving him was the best and worst decision of your whole life. Best, because you knew you'd be able to move on, find someone to appreciate you. Someone normal, someone kind.

Worst because that scumbag wouldn't let you leave him so easily.

There was no detail you spared your boyfriend when you told him about your ex. You showed him the scars, the panic in your eyes, the restraining order, and every police report that came after. You wanted him to know. Everything. Without knowing your past, you couldn't imagine a future for you two. Though it may have been early in your relationship, you needed to know if there would be another lonely or, perhaps, a warm Valentine's Day awaiting you with this man you decided to trust. You finally had your answer when he held you as you cried, rubbed your back, and comforted you. He was the right one. He was kind and he was normal, accepting and understanding of everything about you.

So, how could it be that on Valentine's Day, you heaved yet another long sigh as you lowered your phone, still no reply from your boyfriend about when he was going to be home? There was no excuse like 'working late' or 'stopping to get dinner' when he had been off for the last five hours, and you had already cooked and set the table. Nothing could have been more important on a Tuesday evening than to get home to his beloved partner waiting for him. You couldn't think of any other excuses to make except for…

He forgot.

Maybe you were being childish. Disillusioned by TV and social media, romance books and games, that someone could actually exist who'd care. Care about you, your feelings, and this stupid couple's holiday. You didn't need someone who'd take you out on a unique, fancy date just because capitalism forced him to. You didn't even want presents or your partner being overly excited about a home-cooked meal and some sexy lingerie for dessert. Honestly, you two could have celebrated on any given day that you were in love and happy with each other. You just wanted someone to care. 

There were a hundred things you could think of that you two could be doing, even if some made you slightly less comfortable than others. Your boyfriend had some interesting hobbies, like taking you out to the woods for a weekend, a secret cabin where it would only be you two and his camera that would constantly go off to capture pictures of you. He liked to practice tying knots and bought you two all kinds of sensual toys, including blindfolds and gags. Occasionally, you enjoyed the new activities too. Still, you felt like you'd never enjoy them quite as much as your boyfriend did, no matter how much fun you had. It made him happy first and foremost, so you tried to indulge him, knowing he would do the same for you. If anything, he had always been exactly what you wanted—kind, caring, affectionate, and a great cook. The bar wasn't high after what your ex did, but your boyfriend lifted it higher than you ever thought he could. 

Which was why it was so strange he forgot this day, despite it being so important on your healing journey.

He usually was the one to always remember important dates or where you put your things whenever you happened to be forgetful. He took care of you when you were sick, saying things like, "I will always make sure you're happy and loved, Darling." His attitude and efforts made you look the other way whenever he asked you to pose for his camera or trust him when he booked another weird place for a weekend trip. You didn't enjoy these things as much as he did, but knowing he's been doing them since childhood, you couldn't deny him that little bit of freedom when he changed his life to accommodate you in return. 

You wanted to be angry about him not showing up, knowing it meant the world to you, but if you were honest, you were just disappointed. Maybe you had put too many of your problems onto him. Perhaps he was tired of taking care of you all the time. Maybe this wasn't the right relationship either, no matter how much you wanted it to be. Mistakes were made before, and this could have been one of them.

Your train of thought was harshly interrupted by the sound of the front door opening, your head snapping around as you stared at your boyfriend wide-eyed and surprised as he giddily stepped inside, holding multiple bags of renowned stores you liked to shop in, grinning like he always did when seeing you. 

"Sorry for not replying earlier! I was preoccupied."

Pushing off his shoes and hanging up his coat, he spoke nonchalantly as if your inner tumult didn't face him. Which, to be fair, you didn't even know if he was aware of. The bags in his hand were clearly apology gifts that he could shove wherever. Now you did feel angry, but when your boyfriend finally stepped into the kitchen, lifting his nose in the air and humming blissfully, you almost felt bad, seeing how innocent he looked, unaware of your anger. 

"I wish I could have gotten back earlier, but I needed to take care of something," he called out from the kitchen sink, rinsing his hands dutifully. He was a bit of a goofball, wiping his wet hands on his shirt before sliding over to you on his socks, grinning from ear to ear as he met your gaze. You loved his playful ways, the tenderness of always searching for your no matter what. It was either eye contact or holding hands in public; your boyfriend never too shy to show you were with him. 

"I know what you're thinking, but I didn't forget," he chuckled, scratching his cheek nervously after he noticed your furrowed brows. Moving around the couch you were sitting on, he took a seat right next to you, knees touching as he reached for your hand that you didn't pull away, even if just to see what he'd do. "I just wanted to make this the most special Valentine's ever."

Glancing at his fingers, your eyes got stuck at the red paint around the rim of where his nails met his skin, and you raised an eyebrow, replying, "Okay…?" 

Did he make you a card? Painted a picture? Maybe he decorated a cake… You wanted to be pessimistic, given how he had already wasted most of the day being tardy. However, the promise of him actually going through the trouble of making you something from scratch was already more effort than you could have expected from him. 

"Every day, you make me so happy," your boyfriend started, a doe-eyed look on his face as he gently massaged your hand, bringing it up to his lips to kiss it reverently, his breath tingling against your skin. "Allowing me to love you is the greatest gift you could have ever made me. Just waking up every morning knowing I have you to cherish gives me the strength to overcome any hurdle in my life. I only need food, water, and you to survive my days with no regrets and no ill feelings. That's how much you changed me."

 Planting some more kisses on the back of your hand, your boyfriend looked back up at you, grinning one of his beautiful, sunny smiles that you loved so much, his dimples making him look like he was out of a movie rather than the man you called your boyfriend. Hearing his confession made your anger evaporate, tears brimming your eyes that he quickly wiped away with his thumb. "Don't cry yet, I'm not finished, and you know I can't hold back when you cry."

You both laughed off the awkwardness and the stuffy noses as you took some deep breaths, gathering your composure as best as possible. "I wouldn't want to miss you ever," he sighed blissfully, his gaze piercing right into your soul, laying the words there like bandages around your scarred heart. "You're my light, and I love you more than humanly possible. I want that, exactly this here, right now, forever."

Pulling his hand away from caressing your cheek, he fumbled with the back pocket of his jeans, pulling out a little red box shaped like a heart. Your breath hitched as you put your hand over your mouth to not let it hang wide open, surprised as your boyfriend opened the lid to reveal a beautiful ring that undoubtedly would have your size. "Will you do me the honor of marrying me?" he asked, fingertips brushing over the velvet outline of the ring box nervously. And you…

Hesitated. 

A part of you wanted nothing more than to say yes, throw your arms around him, kiss him, let him put the ring on your finger, and call you by his last name. But then the thoughts you had before your boyfriend came home returned to your mind, and suddenly, doubts flooded you. You always thought he was the one to make you happy. The one to start a family with even. You were okay with his strange obsession with his hobbies, and he did his best to support you and make you feel loved daily. Why did you doubt him just because he was a little late on Valentine's Day? It was such a silly idea after the heartfelt confession he just made, wanting you to know all the ways he felt about you. 

Strangely enough, your eyes fell to his fingernails again, the red rims and dirt under the nail. Your boyfriend was very careful about his looks. It was strange that he didn't take the time to make himself look prim and proper for something as important as a proposal. He always obsessed about looking presentable to you whenever he was out with you. Even when he swore you were beautiful no matter what, he always put in the extra effort for himself. 

"I…" you mumbled, your sentence coming to a choked stop as if invisible hands were trying to stop you from speaking and squeezing the air out of your lungs. The sparkle in your boyfriend's eyes faded as he noticed your hesitation, an expression of hurt crossing over his face even though he tried to hide it behind a smile. 

"I'm sorry, was that too rash? I mean, we never discussed it. I just thought today would be a good day, and… Wow, I… This is awkward." 

Putting the ring away, he scratched the back of his head, turning from you. You wanted to reach out, console him, tell him he didn't do anything wrong, but as you watched his expression turn from hurt to bitter, you instead hugged your own body, leaning away from him. Next you knew, he was up, pacing back and forth behind the couch, muttering mixes of justifications and excuses.

"You said yes to your ex. I thought I could erase the Valentine's trauma if I did the same. I don't really know why I thought you'd say yes... We're still in our early stages, right? Gosh, I'm dumb sometimes! Just ignore I asked. It made sense to me when I saw the ring and thought of you, but I should have consulted you beforehand. It's not even that pretty. It's not good enough for you. You deserve a better ring, bigger and a lot more expensive than this little thing. They said it's a real diamond, but I'm not so sure. Am I making it worse? Please say no, this is already too embarrassing! We can't tell anyone I was so stupid to think you'd want to marry me."

Suddenly, your boyfriend stopped, looking at you. His breathing seemed to halt as he stared into your eyes with an unnerving, emotionless gaze. "You love me, though, right?"

Blinking at him, you couldn't quite follow his tirade of sentences, but you gave a slow nod, his expression changing instantly. "Phew! Lucky me! Here I thought I ruined it." The tension that had stopped him in his tracks flowed out of him, muscles relaxing, lips curling back into a smile. 

Coming back to the couch, he took his place next to you, reaching for your hand to take into his, resting it on top of his thigh. For a moment, he stayed like this, brushing his thumb back and forth over the back of your hand as he smiled upon it thoughtfully. "This was a mistake, but I wouldn't be able to bear it if you'd hate me now. Can you tell me why it's a no?"

Looking up at you, you couldn't help but avert your gaze after catching his, seeing his kindness and patience that swirled with his love for you in it. He was always like that, understanding and accepting no matter what you did. How could you possibly confess to him that it was because you had a bad feeling about how he acted on Valentine's Day? That would make you look like an absolute idiot, wouldn't it? Rejecting him for being late?

"It's just… a little too early," you stammered, making apparent excuses. Eleven months may have been a bit quick, but you two had a lovely relationship so far. "I see…" he mumbled. His head fell back as he let out a loud laugh, squeezing your hand tightly as if he feared losing his hold. "And here I thought it was because of your ex."

"Why do you keep bringing him up?" you asked, a ping of irritation going through you at the constant reminder. 

"Well, you brought up marriage much earlier with him, but you never talked about it with me."

Odd, you thought, not remembering giving him that detail. You were sure you mentioned you thought your ex was the one you'd marry, but this seemed like a knowledge that you didn't think you told him about.

"I… maybe?" you mumbled, unsure if this had actually happened since you avoided letting your memories resurface. 

"Yeah, so I thought maybe I wasn't good enough for you. Maybe you still like your ex more than me. That's why you never brought up marriage. Don't tell me you actually still feel for that bastard?"

His words were throat-cutting sharp as he spit them out, his eyes fixating tensely on you as if to warn you not to say the wrong thing. "Of course not…" you mumbled, appalled at your boyfriend's thoughts. "You know I'm with you now. I rarely ever think of that guy…"

"Good… good," he mumbled, features softening as he looked forward, brushing his thumb over your hand again as he stared into nothingness thoughtfully. "It would be hard to piece him together again if you changed your mind."

"What?" you mumbled, cocking your head and furrowing your brows, waiting for your boyfriend to explain what he meant with his strange choice of words. 

Sitting up straight, your boyfriend stopped tracing over the back of your hand, taking a deep breath instead. Rolling his head to face you, he forced a smile on his lips, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Somehow, I knew," he sighed, a hint of regret decorating his features. "I knew you wouldn't say yes."

"I couldn't pinpoint it. It was just a feeling I had as I drove home today. It got me thinking of reasons why you would reject my proposal. I kept driving up and down the street, too nervous to just come in and ask you; that's why I was so late. Because at one turn, I ended up on your ex's street, passing by his house, and I stopped the car. I felt like it was his fault that you'd reject me, and I looked through his window, and there he was, cuddling with some girl that didn't look like you at all. Probably a whore. That's the best that scumbag can do."

He spat the last two sentences as if they disgusted him on your behalf. As if he was angry, your ex wasn't at least miserable about losing you. It seemed sweet, but your boyfriend's actions were scaring you more and more, especially when you tried to pull back your hand, his fingers clutching around your wrist tightly as he kept you right where you were, not giving you a chance to back away until you relented, letting him continue to brush his thumb back and forth over it.

"I knew I couldn't just leave him like that. He hurt you. He hurt you badly, and I wanted him to suffer. I rang the bell, waiting for him to open, but he let the slut get the door for him, that lazy piece of shit. So I wrapped my arm around her neck, pulled her to the kitchen, and slit her throat right in front of his face. And can you believe it? He cried. Like a little baby, as the bitch bled out."

Your blood ran cold as he spun his gruesome tale. You were even more inclined to get away from him as his expression filled with a mix of indifference and hatred. However, he turned towards you, reaching for your arm and pulling you closer to him, no matter how hard he had to jank until you fell into his arms. "I thought about you," he mumbled, eyes shifting back to the affectionate spark you loved being looked at with normally. He smiled as he caressed your skin, full of goosebumps. "I only thought of you as I rammed the knife into his back over and over, not giving him an easy way out while he cried and pleaded for me to stop. But I didn't. Not until he collapsed, gurgling. That's when I decided it would be the best gift for you, and I hope you'll like it."

Finally, your boyfriend took his hands away, fluttering touches turning into nothingness as he got up. He was eerily calm, not chipper like usual, and not bothered by what he just told you. He stepped around the couch, touching your shoulder as he passed you by, chuckling to himself about the good thing he did while you tried to comprehend the shock you were feeling, disgust and panic not yet having set in. 

"I got you other presents too, but nothing as good as this one," he explained, and you heard the bags rustling behind your back, sending another shiver down your spine. How ironic, you thought, realizing he did make you something homemade for Valentine's. It made a splashing sound as he pulled it out of the bag, and it explained the red stains on his fingers, but it was neither a card, a picture, nor a cake. 

You opened your mouth to scream as your boyfriend slipped the severed head of your ex wrapped in multiple layers of saran wrap into your lap, an anguished expression of pain forever chiseled into the features of the man you once loved. He had never been a good lover to you, but you were pretty sure he didn't deserve this. 

Before a single, horrified scream could rip out of your throat, your boyfriend's hand came down to rest over your mouth, pressing around your lips so nothing but muffled sounds could escape you. "I took care of it. No need to get upset now, Babe," he mumbled, leaning down to kiss the top of your head. "He can never hurt you again, and when we do decide to marry, no one will be in our way," he assured you. 

And you believed him.

"Because if anyone else tries, I'll take care of them too," he added, and you could hear the smirk on his lips, an expression so mad you didn't even want to see it crossing his face.

"I won't let anyone come between you and me. Not now, and not ever, Baby. Happy Valentine's Day, my Love."

[angelsdean]

imagine cas annoys the empty so much again it spits him back out except...it spits him out into the wrong universe (and time) and that's how *our* cas ends up in the winchesters universe. and at first he doesn't realize it's not the right time or universe and he goes looking for dean and instead finds the Lebanon bunker closed off and eventually finds john + mary and he thinks it's his universe's past john and mary and he tells them he needs help to get back to his time (bc his grace is still too low). he tells them he's from the future and needs to get back to someone and he pulls out his wallet and shows them a picture of dean and they're like "whoa whoa we know that guy!!!!" and cas is like, "that's impossible. he hasn't been born yet." and they're like "no no he was here. he helped save our universe. he's from another universe and he came here from heaven because he's dead and there was this young guy with him, jack? and an older guy, robby or bobby or something...." and cas is just slowly losing his mind, all the color draining from his face because first of all what do you mean he's dead?!!! and then all the other universe stuff and then jack? and bobby??? and yea anyways they team up to help get cas to dean and along the way hmmm what if jack pops in again....only this time he's acting even weirder than before, because chuck / the god power are gaining more control / corrupting him more. and jack becomes the big bad, thwarting their attempts to get cas to dean, and wreaking havoc on their universe, so the winchesters squad help them save jack and then dean and cas can eventually get their proper reunion (which everyone in the winchesters squad is now nvested in, especially carlos, number one deangirl and destiel stan) oh and the whole time they also do not know dean is mary and john's AU kid because cas never gives a last name just keeps calling him dean. and so john also grows invested in seeing these two people get their happy ending and BOY would it be cathartic for dean to see a version of his father who is so happy to see dean happy with a man-shaped person<3

[lady-of-endless]

Hello! I saw that requests are still open sooo can we please get something with the reader (neutral) who tries to seduce Ramattra? Lol. What would he do about it? 👀 Thank you!!

Author's Note: Ohhh. I've been waiting for something like this to distract us from how much angst we're getting now in the game. My apologies for the wait but I got carried away with this one and added a little twist to it, I hope you won't mind and you'll enjoy it! Thank you for your request! As usual, please excuse any grammar mistakes.

Seducing Ramattra

Most of the time, when Ramattra is caught up with a plan, he is working too hard for too long. Every time you notice that he's getting burned out, you find a way to lure him, to get some rest.

This time, your intentions were different and he could tell that by the way you slid your hands over his rigid ribcage as you stood behind him. The slight pressure was enough to stop his hand from writing. Ramattra did not stand getting interrupted, but not by you. Something similar to a shiver fired through his circuits at the meaning of your affectionate but sly gesture.

"Maybe you should unwind a little." You suggested calmly, looking at the scribbled plan from his desk. "We can lay down, meditate, read something, or tell me about your next plan…or maybe try some other ways to relax if you'd let me help." You whispered in a suggestive voice next to his sound sensor which was conveniently placed where ears are on humans. He exhaled deeply, already thinking how all of his tension would leave his system with all those possibilities you offered, especially the last options…

Wait. This wasn't right.

What a fool I have become for you, he thinks and straightens his back. Suddenly, it bothered him that you had this much influence over him. The power to subdue him into sweet surrender, to be precise. Was his usual collected demeanor blurred by the love he devoted to you? Ramattra could not accept it tonight.

"I know what your actions and tone imply." His demeanour changed into a serious one in the blink of an eye making you take your hands off him. "Tell me, do you think you will always succeed in enticing me like so?" His tone was daring. "Because I will put it to an end."

Before you could say anything, he stood up, pushing the chair aside with a leg kick. The movement made the desk at which he worked shake. The lamp that illuminated the workplace and the room fell on the ground, turning off.

As Ramattra turned around, you looked up to his face for clarification. Chills ran down your spine. Half of his faceplate was illuminated by the faint purple glow of his void accelerator that rested in the corner of the room.

Ramattra unexpectedly grabbed your jaw and pulled you closer. He noticed how the same purple light was altering the true color of your irises. He thought it was a mesmerizing sight.

"There's tension in you now, beloved." He made sure to emphasize the nickname he used for you only in private. Ramattra took some moments to admire the shock on your face. He hummed in contentment as he let go of your jaw.

Before you could even recover and figure out what has gotten into him, you suddenly felt a grip on your hips. Without having time to react, Ramattra picked you up and placed you on his desk. He leaned closer to the side of your face, still holding you in place.

"Do not assume that I lack knowledge about what your rapid heartbeats mean, or what parts of you are the most vulnerable to touch." He explained in a sardonic voice next to your ear as a cold fingertip slid from your hip down your tight and back up intimately.

You were stunned, this was nothing like how it usually went when you tried to seduce him. Right now, he was the one tempting you. He was still careful with you but his touches were hinting at his wish to break you in a bittersweet way.

Seeing how speechless he got you only made him more ambitious. Ramattra understood why you tried to seduce him so many times, feeling a rush of power.

"Are you willing to give yourself to me? Are you certain of leaving your body in the hands of a Ravager?" He could remember how long it has been since he used the name that once woke something dangerous in him (but saddened him deeply as time passed). You parted your lips to say something but changed your mind and nodded with your eyes closed. That was it for him. The look of surrender on your face and your surprised reactions made him demand more. "Say it to me, without even daring to stutter. I do not think that I have reduced you to silence yet, beloved."

In other words, Ramattra will make sure that you'll remember this lesson the next time you decide to try to tempt him.

[sheepalmighty]

Some more of that Chai joins Vandelay for half a day AU. Or just a picture of a kinda OOC Kale chilling if you wanna gloss over those comics. I'm still not sure if the colours are too garish or not.

These were mostly done with the premise of treating Kale's office like the hideout. I also really like how mundane, or familiar, the interactions between Chai and Kale can be in the game so I wanted to draw some stuff exploring more like that. But also, there's the ulterior motive of shipping so I included an out of context scene because I can't bother drawing the rest of it (though it seems like a huge jump in their relationship as a result. I think they're so big headed that they get stuck in a feedback loop of stroking the other's ego if an excuse comes up to do so)

[whetstonefires]

I think it's reached the status of pet peeve for me at this point, how common it is in the fandom for people to assume that adoption into the Jiang family was a unilateral good, that Wei Wuxian definitely wanted and which was withheld from him, thereby proving he was not valued enough by his sect and teacher.

Partly just because that's boring, and leads to boring interpretations of the characters, personal opinion.

Partly because it often tends to reflect an uncritical absorption of the in-universe classist belief that being the son of Wei Changze was inherently valueless, and not worth keeping for its own sake.

And maybe especially because I'm starting to feel like it arises from an overall really flat perception of adoption as an institution, that American fans of a Chinese piece of fiction should maybe subject to more scrutiny.

[mountainashes]

I love Until Dawn (evidently) but omg everytime I play the game or think abt the game I end up feeling so gd sad. Like damn its bleak. Josh Washington genuinely has made me cry more times than I can count.

[snezus-christ-risen]

I love the rhythm of a sneeze, the expansion and the contraction inherent in the process.

Lips part and nostrils widen. Lungs expand, making the chest and belly rise as they fill with air. The person’s expression and body language just open up like a flower in bloom.

And then…

Their features tense and converge, eyes scrunching shut and teeth clenching. Every muscle is engaged as their body folds in on itself. Air rushes out, squeezed from their lungs in a sudden, explosive contraction.

And then, if you’re lucky, the process starts all over again.

[beanghostprincess]

OH MY GOD IMAGINE TRANSFEMME YONJI TRYING TO PICK A FIGHT WITH SANJI DURING WCI AND SANJI OBVIOUSLY REFUSING TO FIGHT HER BECAUSE HE DOESN'T HURT WOMEN AND YONJI DAMN NEAR BREAKING DOWN CRYING BECAUSE SANJI AND REIJU ARE THE ONLY PEOPLE WHO ACTUALLY SEE HER AS A WOMAN

Sorry I was thinking about the ask I sent last night and this happened

DON'T DO THIS TO ME SO EARLY IN THE MORNING C'MON 😭😭😭

Sanji has the finest gaydar for trans people. I am so sure about that. Especially when it comes to trans girls because he would definitely say something like "You don't need to tell me to know you have the soul of a woman" or some cheesy, gentleman thing like that. If he can have a mellorine detector I am 100% sure he knows when he's in front of a woman even if the girl hasn't even come out yet.

He just knows something's like, different about Yonji and she's having a whole gender crisis while WCI happens and Sanji can't fight her. Like- It doesn't feel right to do so. And he knows she's hiding something and she's suffering and he has seen this before but he doesn't even go there. It's not his problem and he will not help the one who hurt him. So not fighting her is alright, but he's not going to help her either.

Eventually, he ends up finding out, either thanks to Reiju or because Yonji has said some very suspicious things that make it obvious she's a girl. And it just kills me to think about Yonji having a whole breakdown mid-fight with Sanji because Sanji refuses to fight her and Yonji doesn't want him to just-- Not fight back? That's no fun! She wants him to get angry at her and do something! But Sanji won't move and only tries to dodge her attacks.

Sanji might still never forgive her for what she did to him, but he could never let a woman suffer in this hell. So... You know. Thoughts about helping Yonji get to Momoiro Island or something so that way she can be herself and free!!

[vivid-wisp]

If anyone within my inner circle asks me about my ships they are going to be so confused if I ever tell them I ship the two crossover dreamworks franchises of an immortal winter spirit and a dragon obsessed next-to-normal guy.

[ow2requests]

Fluff with Cassidy x neutral/masc leaning reader having a (college) study session? Been stressing over my master's program and could use some wholesome reading!

a/n: hello anon, thank you for being the first one to request! I hope you liked this short, sort of chill oneshot, let me know!

Studying With Cassidy (not really because Cassidy distracts you)

A small yawn escaped your lips, your fingertips ghosted onto the pages of the textbook you had been revising off of. Your eyes lazily skimming through the blocks of texts that laid in front of you.

You were too tired to process any of it—too exhausted.

There was no way you would survive this year of college. Exams were right around the corner, and you felt that no matter how hard you studied, you would never get it.

You couldn't help but feel helpless.

It wasn't a very encouraging train of thought, you knew that all too well.

You had been following a rigorous studying regimen, attempting to get in front of whatever you could—some days you felt it was all in vain.

You caught glimpse of the time in your peripheral view; 8:56pm.

The library's gonna close soon...Might as well continue at my dorm... you thought to yourself.

Letting out a disheartened sigh, you stuffed your textbook into your bag, slinging it over your shoulder haphazardly.

And with that, you departed, and went off to your dorm.

———

Once you stepped foot into your dorm, your grip loosened on your bag, allowing it to fall to the ground with a thump—quickly reaching in to grab your textbook so you could get back to studying.

"Hey darlin'." A voice you knew all too well suddenly erupted from behind you.

Cole!

You relaxed at the sound of his voice, a smile graced your features. "Hey." you awkwardly replied.

"Did I scare ya?"

You snorted, "Nah. I'm just surprised you're lurking in my dorm around this time." You offered him a fond smirk. This was a common occurrence for the two of you, Cassidy normally liked to spend time in your dorm when he wasn't busy doing whatever he does.

A brief moment of silence passed, Cassidy laid down on your couch, taking off his hat and placing it on the couch— making himself comfortable.

"What're ya up to? I haven't seen ya all day today."

"Well…Exams are coming up, and I'm trying to stick to my studying schedule." You explained, you found yourself feeling guilty for not spending as much time with Cassidy as you wanted to. "It's been stressful, and I don't know if I even have the energy to keep reading this stupid textbook." Holding up the textbook, you emphasized your frustration.

With a sympathetic smile on his face, Cassidy chuckled. "Lemme help ya, then." He stretched his hands out, inviting you to cuddle.

The urge to touch him tingled in your fingertips as your face heated up. Walking towards him, you placed the book on the couch's armrest and laid down next to him, feeling his arms snake around your waist, pulling you closer.

You couldn't help but feel all fuzzy and gushy inside, this was exactly what you needed.

His calloused hands gently caressed your cheeks before moving down to squeeze your shoulders. "Arent'cha the cutest thing? Yer’ all flustered." With a coy smirk, he teased you.

It took some courage for you to clear your throat, trying to overcome the shyness you felt around him. "Cole, are we studying or not?" You mused lightheartedly.

As he grabbed your textbook, you both began reading through its contents. As Cassidy asked you questions about your coursework, cracking jokes periodically, observing your deep concentration and listening to you read, he couldn't help but chuckle silently.

He only thought of one word: Adorable.

Soon enough, Cassidy began reading outloud.

Something about Cassidy's voice always soothed you, his honeyed and suave voice was enough to make anybody fall head over heels with him.

You nuzzled yourself deeper into his chest, arms draping around his large frame. You found yourself completely blocking out the information, and instead you were being lulled to sleep.

And soon enough, you were fast asleep.

“Whatdya think this means?” Cassidy furrowed his eyebrows in contemplation at the information in your textbook. While Cassidy did not comprehend much of the topic you discussed, he was impressed with your ability to answer all his questions.

Suddenly, there was silence.

“Darlin’?” he whispered gently to you.

His gaze fell on your sleeping, serene face, and he paused to stare at your unconscious form with amusement and surprise.

Did his voice relax you to the point that you fell asleep in his arms? Or did you fall asleep simply because you were bored?

He’d oughta ask you when you wake up, but for now…

Keeping his arm around your waist, he continued gently stroking your head while holding you. Taking a deep breath, he shut his eyes, surrendering to the influence of fatigue and soon falling asleep.

It might have been easier for him to wake you up, but you looked so peaceful and cozy all curled up.

After all, you two could always study another time.

This was one of those moments that he wished would last forever. You and him, relaxed, and with no worries.

[yandere-sins]

Boss

Let’s be honest I am around booktok too much, but mmmmhm vampires, amirite?

Fandom: Original Content Pairings: Yandere!Vampire x GN!Reader   Warnings: Yandere, Sexual Innuendos, Violence (Biting Mention, Death Mention off-screen, Whipping Mention, Blood Mention), Slavery in terms of vampires being superior over humans, Mention of selling blood for services, “Blood Virgins/Blood Mates”, Reader gets brought up under cult-like circumstances, Reader is supposed to get auctioned off

Prompt: @sintember Taboo - Polite, civilised people don’t do these sorts of things. But some choose not to care.

»»———————— ♡ ————————««    

The sound of laughter and glasses clinking together reached you.

A bustle of noise, hushed voices, and polite questions echoed through the room. You were all the more receptive to it, with your eyes blindfolded and your senses sharpening. The air was heavy with cigar smoke and flowery perfumes, and despite not being able to see, you felt a strong light shine down on you as you kneeled on the floor, two burly men standing next to you and keeping you sitting upright.

Even though you knew what was going to happen, you gulped, feeling nervous.

You had waited for this day for the better part of your—still young—life. Your coming of age had been ritualized and celebrated, and you were washed, clothed, and prepared for the occasion. Many nights you had wished the day would never come. The other girls and boys you grew up with and lived with until your early adulthood, liked to tell horror stories about your future as much as they liked to romanticize all of it.

"Ladies and gentlemen, revered guests!" The booming voice coming close to you made you flinch, tearing you out of your memories. You had been waiting for this moment all your life, but it still surprised you, perhaps a given without being able to see. The voices around you slowly died down, a few last laughs being exchanged before the room got quiet, and you heard your heartbeat quicken, resulting in a constant thrumming in your head.

"We've come together today to decide the fate of our lovely blood virgin!"

Fingers brushed beneath your jaw, urging you to let your head fall back and show your neck. The touch of who you assumed must have been the auctioneer was almost reverently gentle, which made sense for ware as precious as you were. Truth be told, you never thought of yourself as especially pretty or incredibly clever. Still, the delightful moans going through the crowd as you presented your perfectly unscathed neck went straight to your ego, tingling your core and sending heat to your head which seemed to rouse the people's passion even more.

People might have been a stretch. In a world ruled by vampires, someone like you—a blood virgin, unbitten and kept locked away until you were ripe to be sold—was a delicacy. Usually, every remaining human had a bite or a dozen on them, selling their blood for loans and protection. Even your instructors had them, and you weren't shielded from the ugly truths about how much biting hurt and how humans were barely better than cattle to vampires. That was, frankly said, what scared you.

Someone like you, who was prepared from childhood to be property, had no rights and no means of saving yourself from what was to come. Sure, the other blood virgins liked to dream about being taken in as personal blood slaves to some wealthy, handsome vampires that would spoil them and treat them as well as a human could be expected to be treated. But you didn't believe in that. You only believed in the screams you heard as you walked to the room your big sister had been brought to after her auction. No one had stood guard, and you fearfully took a glimpse through the keyhole. Only to hear gurgles and see… blood. So much blood.

Your sister never came back.

Even when they tried to tell you she was merely taken to the vampire that bought her, you didn't believe it after what you saw. And you didn't believe there was any hope for you either. When the touch of the auctioneer slipped beneath the velvety blindfold, you wished you could have kept it on. You didn't want to see the faces of murderers enjoying their lives. You didn't want to see the vampire that would take you from your home. You had been trained for this occasion your whole life, but in the end, you weren't ready.

No matter how well they had whipped good behavior into your body, you couldn't do it. When the blindfold lifted from your face, appreciative murmurs going through the mass below the stage, your world seemed to slow down. For a few seconds, your anxiety made everything come to a halt as you breathed heavily. The spotlight shining down on you hurt your eyes, and you couldn't see anything really, in the darkness below the stage you were on. But in a moment of fear-induced clarity, you knew this was your only chance. The only moment they didn't expect you to act.

Before you could think it through, you bolted.

Slipped right out of the guards' grip and pushed aside the gentle auctioneer, not even having seen that man's face if he even was one. Your feet lost their footing as you couldn't see where the stage ended, dropping you off the edge into soft but smelly carpet floor. Your body was pounding blood through it, making it thrum in your ears and filling you with adrenaline. The sound of the crowd gasping in surprise barely reached you as your mind was filled with the symphony of your body and the desire to escape.

You got up before anyone could reach you in time, just running forward despite not seeing anything in the darkness yet. Vaguely, the humanoid shapes of the guests darted by you as you hoped to reach the end of the room to escape it. You'd not end up like your sister. That was your only thought as you hurled your body into a door, fumbling to find a door handle to push it open.

This wasn't normal. You shouldn't have to accept your fate as cattle for vampires, a blood bank for just one night. Even if all your life led up to this moment, no one should have the right to treat you as less than worthy of living. It was insane to just sit and wait for someone to buy you so they could drink your blood and kill you when they had no use for you anymore. You never even kissed someone, much less experienced the world outside of the walls of the monastery where you were kept!

Finally, you managed to push the door open, slipping out the smallest gap you managed to pry open while you felt dozens of hands reach for you from behind. Hungry, greedy hands wanting to pull you back and devour you with hair and skin. They didn't care if you got hurt or even if you were still alive when they got to you, but now that you broke the most important rule—absolute obedience—you were free game. Monsters. All of them!

But you did it! You escaped them! And as you threw the door back in its lock behind you, a smile of relief painted your lips, knowing you made it. Your body's ache returned as you blindly ran into solid matter, forcing you to stumble back against the door as the way forward was blocked off. Not even your hands could have saved you from the wall right where you slipped out, and your senses slowly returned, the adrenaline running dangerously low now that you felt accomplished. Behind you, growly, angry vampires crashed into the wood, shaking the door and slamming their fists into it, no one managing to actually open the exit in their frenzy. All while you stayed still as a mouse, listening to their curses and then a tongue clicking right before you.

"Well-behaved and trained blood slaves don't act this way, you know? Running and creating a fuss. For what? You think you can outrun them?"

You flinched as someone crashed into the wood at your back, the man talking to you taking a step forward, caging you between him and the door, keeping the exit barred with his strength. No, once again, this was no man. With a soothing, deep voice and an expensive scent coming from him, he couldn't be human. Hesitantly, you allowed yourself to look up from beneath your lashes, the spare lightning in the hallway barely enough to illuminate all of his body. Expensive metal accessories decorated him, throwing back the light at you, but the rest was coated in darkness with only the red of his eyes shining through.

It might have been naive to think you could escape, but at least, you had nothing to lose now.

"Civilized and decent beings wouldn't auction off blood virgins into their death."

"Oh?" he hummed, amused by you speaking back. Even if your voice was barely more than a whisper and a shaky one at that, your words seemed to have reached him. Inwardly, however, you cringed. Talking back to a vampire was a big no-no, and this taboo had been burned into your very soul. Even though... you had to admit it felt kind of good to finally speak your mind. You felt his hand fall to your hair, letting the strands you had been forced to grow out, glide through his fingers, his touch running cold shudders down your spine. Without being able to see him properly and predict his movements, everything felt so much worse again, like you were back on the stage, blindfolded and devoted to your duty.

"But we don't kill our blood virgins, you know?" he tried to explain, but it only made you angrier. Of course, he'd say that.

"Liar!" you barked, surprising yourself at how strong the word left you. But you meant it, and seeing him recoil in surprise for a split second felt like a victory. If you could at least shock one of them before your inevitable death, you already achieved more than most blood virgins.

"I am not a liar," he hissed, leaning forward and pressing his body into yours. "I can't speak for everyone, but a blood virgin is a commitment forever. Once we drink the blood of one, it's the only blood we'll want, and they become our blood mates for the rest of their lives. Do you understand?"

Your mind was fighting against you to believe him, but somehow, his words sounded more genuine than you expected them to be. He spoke them with pride and conviction. Clearly, he could be lying, his honeyed voice trying to soothe you for the bite, but why would he say these things then?

"It's an obsession, pure delightful need that we want to constantly satisfy. You humans would call it… love? We want our blood mates to always be around us, and no one is allowed to touch or taste them except us. Much less kill them, little human."

"I…" you mumbled, trying to process the information you were given. But all of this didn't change your mind about the whole thing. "I don't want that… I would rather die than be someone's property like this."

"We'll see about that," he huffed, his hand gripping your arm as he pulled you back into his chest, finally allowing the door to open, bodies falling out of it that you assumed were the staff members. They groaned and slowly got up, but their sounds fell silent just as quickly, and a voice you recognized as the auctioneer perked up, hesitantly addressing the man that pressed you against his body.

"S-Sir! What a pleasure to see you! We had a small hiccup, but the auction will resume any second now!"

"No need," he waved him off, and you felt his cold hand grip the clothes you were wearing, giving off a possessive vibe. "I will take this one for myself. The auction is off; you can send everyone home."

"B-But, Boss…" the auctioneer stammered, and your eyes widened, body tensing as goosebumps erupted all over your skin hearing the auctioneer call this man his boss. Without much regard for the poor auctioneer left to handle all the angry guests grumbling behind him, you were dragged away by the auction boss, the one in charge of raising and selling the blood virgins. The most evil one of them all.

And as you stared into his face, occasionally lit by the lights in the hallway and too handsome for such a creature, no signs of aging or care about anything other than his selfish desires, his eyes found yours, a grin curling on his lips.

"We'll see if you'll still refuse to be mine when I give you pleasure beyond what you'll ever know. One you'll never get from anyone but me, Darling."

[golldenvallion]

I'm working on some Jackson and Holt ✨angst✨

And her is the first draft

Holt had not come out for the past 2 weeks. Jackson did not notice at first but when he did he had seen it as a small blessing of not having to deal with switching between personalities for a while. However not that much later it was getting weird to not have Holt burst out every chase He got and the longer it took the more worried he got but he decided to let it rest. Maybe because he did not know what to do. Maybe because he was selfish and enjoyed the rest of not constantly switching alter egos and not even thinking about Holt. Maybe he had no idea what happend during Halloween and he didn't want to open that can of worms.

Jackson really got worried after someone tried to get Holt out by blasting hard core music aroung him and even though it made Jackson uncomfortable as usual. Instead of feeling like being ripped apart by someone else trying to escape the suffocation of non existence he now felt the burning feeling in his chest of someone who is terrified to come out. "Holt?" he probably said that more to himself because the moment he said it a shart feeling shout through his sternum like a fast arown and as soon as the feeling came it left. It also left jackson fighting for air for a good minute causing him to stumble over. If deuce had not caught him he would have fallen.

Jackson could stull the music being played and it must have been playing for a minute or so but the moment Deuce and the rest of the table had shot the guy an angry look causing him to turn off the music and sprint away but not befor giving one shocked and confused look at Jackson who was very much still himself and not his cool DJ alter ego Holt.

"You okay dude?" Deuce asked him after he helped Jackson sit back up again.

"oh, eh... Yea. No worries" jackson said while abjusting his glasses "that was.... That was just weird I guess" Jackson wanted to take another bite of his fangburger but when he heard hew quit everybody still was he looked up only to be met with the worried eyes of his friends.

"what?" He asked.

"Nothing" Frankie said but the concerned look she was exchanging with Operetta was telling him another story.

As of on cue Operetta decided to take over the conversation. "we where just kid of wondering-"

"where is Holt yo?!" Heath interrupted Operetta with earned him a push from her acompanied by an annoyed expression. Heath rubbed his arm "I'm sorry but is it not weird?" heath de ended himself and Jackson could not help but agree.

Normally it would be Holt taking over his body and probably jumping on the table to give one of his dramatic monologs about being free and no longer being stuck as a dork. But he was not here right now and anger that weird lingering feeling he jsut had in his chest had worn of it made way for anotjer feeling.

Her reconized it as worry.

"Hey guys?" Jackson Said in a voice that felt to sheepish to his liking but he got the attention of the rest of the table nonetheless "When was the last time anyone had seen Holt?"

Ask me to be added in the tag list if you want to read the rest. I'll @ everydody who is interested when it's done.

[lady-of-endless]

Helllloooo if requests are still open could I request reader taking care of RAMATTRA :3? There's alot of reader comfort out there but good gd this dude needs a nap.

Author's Note: Another request, I'm so happy! I agree with you 100%, let him get some rest. Thank you so much for requesting this ❤️ Hope you'll enjoy it

Taking care of Ramattra

Since he left the Shambali Monastery, Ramattra has become more of an overachiever. Humanity's continuous aggression towards omnics forced him to ignore his own needs just to work on plans, strategies, and new machines, all for a better future. He saw no problem with that but, he's not alone anymore, and you're worried for him.

When you propose taking a break for his own good, he simply replies with how he doesn't need it, changing the subject. Of course, he takes note of your worried expression from your face but does not want to bother explaining that you have no reason to be worried for him, at first.

"My system is running in optimal conditions. I do not require rest like humans do." He caved in and explained to you calmly, causing you to sigh in defeat. Even if you knew that it was true, it was his mind that needed rest more than his body. You understand that it will be complicated to get him to relax.

You noticed how he didn't even meditate the way he still used to even after leaving Shambali. It was a part of his routine but not anymore so it seemed. Instead of pointing it out, ask him if he can teach you how to do it. He will look at you over his shoulder in silence, pondering and analyzing your expression. It was his right to be suspicious as you never asked for this before. Right when you think he is going to refuse, the orb from his staff floats toward his right hand. "Follow me, and pay attention." He muttered. Somehow, this one trick to get him to rest went unnoticed.

Maybe you can try a straightforward approach as well. If he is working, walk to him, ask about what he's working on. As he talks, put a hand over his and gently pull him towards you by his hand. "And what is it you think you're doing?" He stops explaining and asks but still lets himself be guided by you. You tell him that you wish to read something to him and he refuses right away. This calls for desperate measures. "Just give it a chance. Like you did with me…" You say with a hopeful look in your eyes when looking at him. With that, consider it done. You knew that you got him with that one. "Fine, but it better not take long." He sighs in frustration as he lays down next to you.

In the first minutes, Ramattra just waits broodingly for this break to end. Gradually, as he listens to your voice and your breathing, he starts to lose track of time and forget about what he had to do later. He finds himself turning his body more towards yours, even maybe placing his head on your chest, hoping that you won't ask why.

That's the time he discovers another way of relaxing. It has even become his favorite. Laying his head on your chest, his sound sensor close to your heart. He is surprised by how pleasant the sound of it is. Listening to the steady beats makes him feel like every circuit from his body slows down and because he's alone with you, he allows it.

He cannot admit that he felt better afterward, but he surely won't let your thoughtful gesture pass without thanking you. "I am grateful for this moment of peace. Perhaps I can…find some time to repeat this in the days to come."

Even so, there's a long way to go if you expect him to take a break freely on his own. You will still have to keep an eye on him.

When he needed to think something over or find a solution to a problem, he usually traveled to Shambali where he watched the monastery alone, from afar. There is something in the scenery that brings him calmness every time. Plan a little trip to Shambali for him. Tell him that you need to go there for something and you need him to guide you. When his steps bring you two to his favorite spot, just stay silent and let him have a moment of peace. Watch how his shoulders drop and how his breathing becomes more deeply. He might remain silent or open up to you. If the latter happens, it usually leads to a deep conversation, and for him, this also counts as a way to relax.