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#road trip to the afterlife
ohgreat-moretapes · 2 months
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.... both of you need help(and I don't mean therapy), one of you needs food and water... despretly, Hoodie(may we call you this? what would you liked to be called?) and 'beef jerky'?.... I have questions Hoodie...
You can call me whatever you want
And what, I crave gas station food sue me
Oh wait that's right you can't cause I'm d e a d
- ⦻⦻⦻
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stellamancer · 1 year
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If I fucking write a jjk × kh crossover in the near future it is ENTIRELY mao's fault.
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animeredhead101 · 3 months
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Tim Drake/ Danny Fenton Masterlist
Completed
Mesmeric Revelation by DisillusionedDanny :
Danny couldn’t stop the future. That much was true. Despite not cheating on his CAT and doing every single thing by the book to make sure that this future was not a reality, it had happened anyway. The nasty burger had blown up. His parents, Jazz, Sam, Tucker, they were all in the building when it happened.With his friends and family dead, Danny goes to the only place he thinks is safe. The infinite realms.As Danny attempts to move on from the tragedy he manages to get summoned by cultists, build a new family for himself and even find love. Not all in that exact order.Tim Drake thought getting kidnapped by cultists was probably the most annoying thing to have ever happened to him. Little did he know it would also be the best thing to ever happen. Word Count: 71,980 Complete Its very heartwarming with a dark tone in the beginning. I enjoy reading this as a comfort fanfic.
Shovel Talk by SummersSixEcho :
When Tim decided to tag along on a road trip with Danny to meet his parents, he was kinda ready for the shovel talk with his friends and family. But bringing out the secrets buried in Amity Park? That’s another kind of shovel talk Danny hadn’t prepared him for. Word Count: 71,396 Complete
Bitter, had the Heart by CastrianAmore :
Tim is the only one consistently watching. Thus he’s the first and only one to notice one more body following the streets like the bats do. A kid with all black hair and white motifs and an attitude problem that reminds him a tad too much of Jason. It was a shame Jason was adamant that he “didn’t know anything”, what a liar right?But the streets of Gotham listened and the name on everyone’s lips playing like a discordant harmony was one word: Distortion. Not that Tim knew what it meant yet, but Danny would make sure he would. If Danny lived long enough for Tim to find out. Word Count: 182,548 Complete
Tim Jr. Coffee Machine Extraordinaire by PaperPuffin :
Dick worried his lip between his teeth as he looked Tim over. His little brother was standing, zombie-like, in front of the Cave’s coffee machine. Not that the act was unusual for Tim. Just… the thing was, Tim had been doing better. Word Count: 2,330 Complete
Wanted: Dead and Alive by Astereae :
“Hey, I do I... Do I know you?” Danny asks, a hand coming up to brush something off Tim’s cheek. “No,” Tim says. “We haven’t met.” “Oh, no, I do.” Danny says, and he smiles, teeth white and sharp. “You’re that guy who rearranged my guts!” Rearranged his- Tim glances at the knotted scars on the boy’s abdomen. He can see the shine and shadow of haphazard stitches that weren’t meant to hold forever, that tore and healed over. His- This- “WHAT!?” Nightwing shouts, equal parts confused and delighted. Tim’s fucked. OR Danny Fenton's been in GIW captivity for 4 months. Tim Drake gets kidnapped by the GIW one Tuesday evening in May. Considering how many of the Bats and the Birds have died and come back to life, it was only a matter of time for some people interested in the afterlife to come poking around. The detectives can't seem to uncover any information about the mysterious white vans, however. And they keep losing the mysterious boy who seems to be the one person in Gotham to know anything at all. Word Count: 121,281 Completed
On-going
Family introductions by Half-dead Ham(Grima101) :
Danny and Tim have been dating for about a year now, figuring out their relationship between Tim’s vigilante duties and Danny’s Ghost King responsibilities. Danny is taking a small (unauthorized) break from his paperwork to find his bf flat on his ass sick trying to go on patrol. The only way to stop him was to take his place, and Danny was lucky they're the same size.
Word Count: 14,070 On-going
An Interesting Family Tree by Scififan33 :
Danny's life in Amity Park wasn't perfect, but it beat his old life. The GIW and Fenton parents didn't make things easier but at least ghost attacks had lessened since he was named Prince, to be crowned upon his twenty first birthday.He'd run from the League almost a decade ago, risking getting their attention, and for a stranger? It was insane. And yet he still got on the plane to Europe to find and warn one Tim Drake that he was being targeted. Word Count: 68,348 On-going This is one of favorite fanfics, I love the interactions of Danny and Tim throughout the story. I also love how the author writes two story lines together. I love both Fandoms and to read a story were they work well together is always a treat!
Tim Drake's I.E.F (Invisible Eldritch Friend) by Half-dead Ham :
The last thing Tim expected while getting stalked was to get used to the unseen creature and how they started taking care of him. He expected even less for them to be the same age
Word Count: 72,042 On-going
I find it hilarious that the bat stalker gets stalked and they some how make it into a funny Rom-com.
Till Death and Beyond by Scififan33 :
Danny and Tim have known each other for a year, have been dating for months, and are very happy. Sure, Tim would prefer if his boyfriend let him help him at least get a nicer apartment, or even an internship at WE but Danny won't let him. Dating Tim is not keeping his head down but as far as everyone knows, Danny Fenton died with his parents and sister. Danny Nightingale has no links to him, thanks to Tucker and Technus' magic.But there are still those who would love nothing more than to get their hands on Phantom, despite his not having been seen in a long time.And why is there a vigilante bleeding out on his apartment floor? Word Count: 79,279 On-going I love the fic for the fact that we talk about how the bat-fam treats Tim. Like he is such a sweetheart and he is not treated they way he should be. Like don't get me wrong I love the fics were Damion and Tim get along and fix their relationship but the way they interact this would not have occurred and to see this in this fanfic and Tim recognizing that its not okay was amazing. I also love that Danny doesn't take any shit from the bat-fam, hes likes fuck with Tim and see what happens. Defiantly one of my top 5!
The Rebirth of Tim Drake by Bewitched_Forest :
Tim gets turned into a halfa after an incident with a newly spawned Lazarus Pit, electricity, and Ra's Al Ghul. When he awakens, he finds himself in the Ghost Zone. Taken to fellow Halfa, Danny Fenton, he travels to Amity Park where he learns with the help of Danny and his friends just what he has become. And how being a Halfa has made him one of the most hunted beings in the world.
Not Abandoned! Updating will just be whenever I feel like it cause I got burnout.
Word Count: 57,663 On-going
My Name is Not Wounder Boy! by CrepuscularCryptid :
Casper High's juniors go on a trip to Washington DC every year. This year it's Danny's class's turn. Absolutely nothing goes wrong. Nothing. Shut up, Tucker. ************* Wherein Danny meets Wonder Woman, fosters diplomacy between the Living and the Dead Realms, and eventually gets a new haunt. Word Count: 44,832 On-going
The Price Of Peace by JoyLess_Nightsk :
The Juistria League - the alliance of the major countries of the continent Juisitria - has long since stood for peace. Unfortunately there is one country that is a thorn in their side whenever they try to solidify that peace: The Infinite Lands, a country of barbarians to the north where the only reason they survive is the magic in the air. Where the magic is so strong that even children develop a talent, which they themselves call "the blessings of the dragons". The country that, last time the Juistria League had tried to negotiate, had waged a war more brutal then anything seen before on them, for over a decade - right until the moment a rebellion caged him. Not long ago, his murderer took the title. And now, that very same newly crowned High Chief demands negotiations of them. Bruce would rather die, would rather see Gotham and all of Juistria in flames than to allow that man to take one of his children. Tim, however, makes another decision before he could say that. Now, everyone has to hope Phantom will be happy with the boy… Meanwhile Danny is just too stunned that they actually agreed to that to do anything about the sudden engagement. Word Count: 50,397 On-going I usually am not a fan of fics like this but I kinda love this but just the fact that their are so many miscommunications between the Gotham and Infinite Lands. It definitely a great start and I cant wait ti read more!
Rated M
A Grave Affair by OnlyHereForTheSnacks :
Tim was used to life taking unexpected turns. It was just another part of being a vigilante. Sometimes life gives you lemons and sometimes an immortal assassin sells you into an arranged marriage to the Ghost King for a piece of jewelry. (Lots of plot. Smut in Ch.3. Mind the tags) Word Count: 14,744 Complete
Seeing Double by Wraiith(Jayyydez) :
"You remember that conversation we had about me being able to duplicate?" Tim's brow furrowed even more. Which conversation-? His mouth dried all at once, his heart threatening to burst out of his chest. Oh. Oh, Ancients and Gods alike, help him. Danny was having this conversation with him. He was having it with him right now, and Tim felt more awake than he had in days. Word Count: 7,752 Complete
Skin of Your Teeth by halfgone(milkywxy) :
Tim can't bring himself to lie about his secret identity anymore. When he spills his secret to his boyfriend, Danny, many more secrets are soon to follow. Some with interesting results. Prompts: Tim Drake |Eldritch Danny| Teeth Word Count: 7,065 On-going
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tanglepelt · 1 year
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Dp x dc idea 40
Quick summary: Danny finds Ellie in the basement strapped to a table. They book it after destroying portal. Fentons think Danny’s possessed and chase. They capture Ellie again with GIW. Danny pretends to be an ambassador to the infinite realm. They don’t need to know he’s the king. Threatens war. Batfam are near. They intervene.
The fentons find out about Ellie. The whole halfa thing not the clone thing. They decide obviously a ghost possessed a dead child and was using their body. That’s why she could transform back and forth.
Que the metal table and straps.
Danny was very concerned when Ellie didn’t show up to there monthly meet up. He tried to text her and call her to no response. Being the good older brother he is he went hunting.
Not able to find her, Danny is ready to beg frostbite for the infamap. He promised not to take it again. But no one said anything about begging.
When he goes to the basement he sees ellie. Thankfully before and vivisection or cutting began. She was just strapped down with a machine taking blood.
Que him freeing her. Destroying the record they had. Injecting her with a ecto-dejecto to get ectoplasma in her system to kick up the healing factor. He breaks the portal.
None of his rouges were out. They had a monthly agreement. No one was to interfere with his Ellie day. The box ghost tried it once. He had to deal with a feral Ellie. The rule is in place for there safety.
He knows he’ll be hearing the complaints for the rest of his afterlife. The fact jack and Maddie strapped what looks like a human down. Who knows what they’d do to his rouges. Those ones actively cause problems.
Danny and Ellie have a lovely road trip. Constantly running. Watching that back. Barley sleeping. One for the scrap book.
The end goal is to get to Gotham. Jazz goes to Gotham u. She’d hide them. She’d meet them if they had there phones. They got left behind in the panic. Getting to Jazz would be safe for them. She has a Fenton creep stick after all.
Upon getting to Gotham. They realize they both have no idea where the university is. So no idea how to get to jazz.
It’s late when they showed up. Like the middle of the night late. So they can’t even ask. Not to mention pay phones don’t really exist anymore. They didn’t have quarters regardless.
That’s when the Giw show up surrounding them. Jack and Maddie show up from nowhere grabbing Danny from behind. Yelling that he’s just possessed. He wouldn’t be helping the ghost girl if he wasn’t. He wouldn’t of destroyed there life’s work.
Danny. Thinking fast starts yelling at them asking if they really want a war. That he’s seen what they can do. It won’t even be a battle. They’d just close off access to the afterlifes. You have to travel through the realms to get to them. Leaving the dimension to suffer. No relief of death. Just pain and suffering.
Screaming how that she was the second in line for the throne. The princess.
Ellie just stares at him the whole time. Like wtf. She’s fought off a lot of the GIW agents. But they have blood bosoms that force her down.
Danny couldn’t get free from jack and Maddie. Going ghost would just force him to the ground as well.
Starts yelling how he hasn’t sided with his parents from the beginning. That he had tried to play ambassador. Freeing those taken. Making sure the realm didn’t fight back.
He lies about how he totally stopped the master of time itself from destroying the timeline. That pandora has not attacked because of him same as the mighty frostbite of the far frozen.
Basically he’s just spouting nonsense. Then threatens to summon frostbite. Frostbite taught him how after an incident where he very much hurt himself.
Just then people with grappling hooks show up. They end up detaining the GIW and jack and Maddie. Which is a good thing.
The bad thing was the bat furry wanted to ask questions.
Good thing the furries got rid of the blood blossoms.
Danny just gets through them. (They let him go to Ellie). The fight left Ellie injured. The blood blossoms had made the injured way word.
We’ll look like he was summoning frostbite.
Not to fight but because Ellie was hurt. The bat people barley reacted to the yeti appearing from a glowing green portal. But they did tense and take up new stances.
It’s quickly seen that frostbite is in fact a medic. Not a mighty warrior (from what they can tell).
They actually think Danny was actually the voice for the infinite realm. That was enough to get him dragged to space.
Who knows how’d they react if they knew he was the king. But hey the GIW got disbanded.
Now has a fic started. Feel free to steal this idea still!!!
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slaybestieslay946 · 7 months
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Hey! I love ur blog and I saw ur accepting requests for luke castellan, (I’ve never requested a fic before so I’m sorry if I’m doing this wrong lol)
Could I have a fic where reader comes to camp in the middle of the night after getting attacked by monster(doesn’t matter which monster) but after they’re in camp and moved into the Hermes cabin they’re distant and angry because theyre pissed off at the world and the gods. Luke being luke though doesn’t give up on trying to make the reader feel at home and tries his hardest to get them out of their shell. UNTIL reader gets claimed by Zeus and gets moved to the lonely Cabin 1 and can’t sleep so they go back to Hermes cabin and Luke lets them sleep in his bunk w him and fluffy ending of such
Damn that was a lot it’s totally ok if u don’t want to do this!
Thank you!!!
I really love this idea, and I'm so glad you love my blog! Hope you enjoy!
Mystery Girl
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MASTERLIST
word count: 2700
pairing: luke castellan x zeus!reader
warnings: minor depictions of violence, readers kind of a bitch but like not really.
a/n: reader is so unbothered i kinda aspire to be her
Late at night, you stumbled through the camp's threshold, leaning on Aspen, your protector. He was equally leaning into you, and you couldn’t tell whose blood it was soaking threw your shirt, yours, or his. 
You could see a few buildings at the bottom of the hill, and a few of them had lights on. 
“Help, please!” You shouted, weakly raising your arm to catch some sort of attention. 
Aspen did the same, his exclamations a mix of real words and pained bleats. 
Eventually, people began emerging from the buildings, rubbing their eyes in exhaustion, trying to work out what was going on. You and Aspen continued to shout for help, shuffling slowly down the hill, praying that you wouldn’t bleed out before you reached the bottom. 
Finally, someone seemed to realise you were in trouble, and a boy about your age began jogging up the hill towards you. His face was mostly calm, and he opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, halting when he saw the blood on your clothes and the used spear in your hand. 
You instinctively let go of Aspen, and rushed forward to seek help.
“Please, help me.” You pleaded desperately, losing your balance and stumbling forwards towards him. 
“Alright, alright.” He said, catching you by the arm and holding you steady, before shouting down at the campers below, “These two need to get to the infirmary! Someone wake the Apollo cabin, yeah?!”
He then turned back to you, holding you steady by the arms and trying to assess the damage. 
“It’s alright, yeah? You’re safe now, we just gotta get these cuts checked out, hm?”
You tried to nod, but found you couldn’t move your head, or your body. You tried to speak, tried to tell him that Aspen needed help too, but your mouth couldn’t move either. 
And then your vision went black. 
*
When you woke up, you thought you were in heaven. It smelt nice, homely. Not that you really knew that home was supposed to smell like. 
It was warm too, and you felt yourself sighing contentedly. If this really was heaven, then you didn’t mind being there all that much. 
After a while, you decided it was time to open your eyes, maybe go and explore the afterlife. 
But when you tried to sit up, you felt a sharp jolt of pain that snapped you back to reality. You let out a small hiss in discomfort, lowering yourself back into the bed. 
Slowly, the memories began to come back to you, leaving school, Aspen forcing you onto a road trip, nearly getting killed by a monster, and finally passing out on the hill of a ‘camp’. 
Heaven sounded preferable. 
You took in the room. It seemed like any old house, a dresser in the corner along with a wardrobe and old floral wallpaper that even covered the ceiling. Until you noticed another bed beside yours, with Aspen asleep on it, and one beside his. 
You remembered the words of that boy who’d run to you, and you figured this must be the infirmary. 
“Hey, Aspen.” You whispered, turning your head to the side and trying to ignore the sting of your injuries.
“Aspen!” You called again, raising your voice, but still he didn’t hear you. He must still be asleep. Lucky bastard. 
You huffed, sinking fully back into the pillows and waiting for someone to arrive. Thankfully, it didn’t take long, and soon enough a young boy was coming in, holding several canisters of liquid. 
“Oh, you’re awake,” He grinned, “How’s the pain?”
“Bad.” You replied, groaning at the thought. 
He chuckled, “Not surprising. You got some nasty scratches from that monster. Here, drink some of this, it’ll fix you up.” 
He offered one of the canisters to you, and you took it, regarding it with a certain amount of suspicion. 
“What’s this?”
“Nectar. It’ll help, trust me.” 
You relented, deciding that it was worth the risk if it would get rid of some of the throbbing in your back. 
And he was right, almost immediately, you felt soothed, and as you drank more, you began to feel energised, like you could conquer the world. 
“What did you say this was? Nectar?” 
“Yep. Food of the gods.” 
“Where’d you get this stuff?” 
“Oh, we get shipments from Olympus every month. You won’t find that at your local grocery store.”
“Woah, woah, woah.” You held up your hands to stop him for a minute, “What do you mean Olympus?” 
The boy's eyes widened, and some kind of realisation struck him. 
“I don’t think I should be the one to break this to you.” 
*
Just a few hours later, everything had been explained to you, and you were kicked out of the so-called ‘Big House’. Nice of them to do that, considering a centaur had just dropped the bombshell that you were the child of an ancient Greek god. 
To be fair though, you probably should have clocked that something was up when you were being chased by a mythical beast, but then again, you did have your hands full. 
Now, you were sitting on the front steps of the porch, waiting for some kid to show you round the camp. 
“Hey, mystery girl! Good to see you’re feeling better.” A voice called out, and you looked up to see the very same boy who had come to your aide on the hill. 
“Oh, hi. Yeah, I’m all good.”
“Cool. Nice to meet you, by the way. I’m Luke.”
“Y/N.” 
“Right, so, I’ll start the tour.” He declared, flashing you another bright grin which you feebly returned. 
He started the tour off at the dining pavilion, then showed you the amphitheatre, then the strawberry fields, the archery range and the lake. 
Finally, he introduced you to each of the cabins, skipping over the empty cabins 1, 2 and 3. 
“And this,” He gestured to the eleventh cabin, “Will be where you’re staying.”
“Woah.” You said, stepping back, “What do you mean staying? I can’t stay here.” 
He looked at you blankly, “You don’t really have much of a choice, mystery girl.”
“Yeah, I do. I can leave whenever I want, you can’t do anything about it.” 
“You wanna get killed by a monster? Because if I remember right, you came awfully close a few days ago. That’s why you can’t leave.” 
“Well I guess I’ll just have to take that chance. Appreciate the tour and everything, but I’m going.” You then turned on your heel and began to walk away. 
There was no chance in hell you were staying in this camp, and if it had to be over your dead body, then so be it. 
However, your desertion was halted by Luke grabbing you by the hand and pulling you back. 
“I’m not kidding, Y/N. You’ll die as soon as you step past that barrier. Just,” He sighed, seemingly exasperated, “Stay for one night. It’s not that bad here once you get used to it.” 
You glared up at him, weighing your options. He seemed pretty serious about this. 
“And you can’t leave Aspen when he’s still in critical condition?”
That broke your resolve.
“Fine. I’ll stay until Aspen wakes up. Show me my bunk.” 
He grinned, and turned back to Cabin 11, showing you inside. 
*
Turns out, Aspen waking up wouldn’t be such a close deadline as you thought. As it turned out, he’d been hit by some kind of poisonous claw from the monster, and had been put into some kind of coma. 
So now, as prior to your agreement with Luke, you were stuck here until he woke up. Which could be next week, or next year for all you knew. 
And yeah, you felt bad for the guy ‘cause he was in a coma, but it was seriously messing up your plans of leaving camp. 
Because you hated camp. 
The Hermes cabin stunk, and it was constantly noisy. Probably because there were so many people in there all the damn time. 
You also sucked at most of the stuff around camp. 
You weren’t exactly nurturing, so it was a no to the infirmary and the strawberry fields. You were an awful shot, and when you had a go in the forges you dropped a mallet on your foot. You were still recovering from that one. 
It seemed the only thing you were even slightly good at was fighting, mainly with the staff Aspen had lent you during the fight with the monster outside camp. Still, you weren’t great, unlike Luke who had insisted on taking you under his wing. 
He sat with you at every dinner and breakfast, and always seemed to be there when you turned a corner, or found a moment of peace. 
Yes, it was very kind of him to try and settle you in, but it was pretty futile, considering all you had wanted to do ever since you woke up was leave, consequences be damned. 
The one saving grace to your boredom was capture the flag. Luke had told you about it on your first day, and it was a game you remembered playing as a kid, and really enjoying. Apparently they ran a game every month, and this coming Sunday would be your first time playing.
The day of the game arrived, and for the first time in your two weeks at camp, you were in a decently good mood, and of course, Luke took notice of this. 
“What’s got you so happy, mystery girl?”
“Nothing. Besides, why do you keep calling me that, you know my name now, don’t you?”
“Yeah, but you're just so private and mysterious. I’m surprised you even told me your name.”
“I wish I didn’t, Castellan, maybe you wouldn’t be here to bug me all the time.” 
“Ouch, don’t be like that. You know I’m great company really.” 
You didn’t reply to that, instead rolling your eyes at him and returning to the task of tightening your armour, struggling a bit with the straps. 
Luke quickly came to your aid, much to your chagrin, helping you adjust the breastplate so it fit properly. 
“Thanks.” You sighed reluctantly, quickly stepping away from him to grab your spear. 
“No problem.” 
*
Soon, the game was well underway, and you quickly realised that you had been given possibly the most boring job, that being guarding the perimeter. Not that you could really blame your team leaders, you were the newest member and logically the most inexperienced. But still, you’d been hoping for something a little more exciting. 
Every now and then you heard the odd shout further on in the woods and raised your spear, but you never actually caught sight of anyone from the opposing team. Or your team for that matter. 
You really had been given the short straw. 
After another hour of standing there, you were about ready to quit all of this completely, throw off your armour and escape camp, agreement with Luke be damned, that was until you heard hurried footsteps, and someone panting heavily coming from behind you. 
You quickly whipped around, to see a girl from the Ares cabin, holding your flag, standing about 50 feet away. 
Then you heard another step of footsteps, and there was Luke, around the same distance away, holding the opposing team's flag. 
You really didn’t want to be caught in the middle of something this exciting. 
They both began to run towards the threshold at top speed, and you stayed standing between them, unsure of what to do. Should you step back and let Luke do his thing, or should you step in to stop the girl. She looked pretty terrifying. 
You whipped your head side to side, continuing to debate, and in the midst of your dilemma, you realised the girl was much closer to you than Luke was. Fuck. 
You had to stop her somehow, but you obviously could just slash blindly at her, you didn’t want to behead her. 
And then, suddenly, a bolt of lightning struck a nearby tree, falling directly in her path, and she leapt back to avoid it, stumbling and also falling to the floor. 
Luke kept running, swerving around the fallen tree and onto your team's territory, cheering as the red flag shimmered and turned blue, and the conch sounded. 
You quickly ran over to the girl, clambering over the tree in an effort to help her up. 
She looked up at you in shock and confusion, but her eyes seemed to be focused on the space just about your head. 
“What’s wrong?” 
She pointed above you, “He claimed you.” She stuttered out. 
You looked to where she was pointing, and saw a lightning bolt shining above your head. 
“Oh for fuck’s sake.” 
*
Of course you had to be Zeus’ kid. Just your luck, a forbidden child, with some stupid prophetic destiny. 
If you ever met your father, you’d be sure to give him an earful about his part in your conception. 
Almost immediately after capture the flag, you were announced to the camp by Chiron, and then promptly herded into the empty cabin 1. 
And you never thought you’d say it, but you missed cabin 11. Sure, it was a mess, and the kids in there didn’t know how to shut up, but at least it had some semblance of life, unlike your new home. It was barren, and empty, and you hated it. 
It was even worse now that you had your own permanent bed. Before you’d had at least a pipedream of leaving camp and going off on your own again, but now that was entirely gone. Chiron would never let you out of his sight ever again, not now that you were a child of the ‘Big Three’. You were so screwed. 
You tossed and turned for hours in bed, unable to sleep in the unfamiliar environment, and, strangely, uncomfortable with the crushing loneliness you felt. 
You’d never felt lonely before. Your whole life, you’d been pretty much alone, but that was by choice. This time it was by force, and you felt isolated from everyone else at camp. Suddenly you regretted your refusal to make friends. 
So, your feet naturally carried you to the only person you could kind of call a friend, and you weren’t surprised when you landed outside Luke Castellan’s window. 
You gave it a light tap, and he opened his eyes, giving you a sad smile as he saw your face through the window. It looked like he hadn’t slept at all either. 
“Can I come in?” You mouthed through the window, and he quickly nodded, reaching up to open it and let you in. 
“Thanks,” You whispered, stepping down onto the hardwood floor. 
“No problem. Having trouble sleeping?” He asked, patting the spot beside him. You gladly sat down.
“Uh, yeah. It’s really empty there.” 
“Hm, sure is. You sure you didn’t just miss me too much?”
“Maybe I did Castellan.” You declared, shrugging your shoulders as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world to say.
 “I’m sorry though, Luke. I’ve been kind of an asshole ever since I got here.” You said, looking down at your muddy shoes. 
“Hey, I get it. It’s an adjustment, that’s for sure. I’ve dealt with worse from newcomers.” 
“Thanks. I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me, even if it doesn’t seem like it.” 
“Anytime.” 
You both fell silent for a moment, listening to the snores of the kids around you before he piped up again. 
“Hey, I don’t mind you staying here tonight if you want?” He said, his voice slightly awkward. You paid it no mind.
“I’d like that.” 
He moved to the other side of the bed as you removed your shoes, rolling onto the bed beside him. 
You were both silent again for a while, until Luke’s voice yet again came from beside you. 
“I’m gonna have to come up with a new name for you now, huh?”
“What, I’m not mysterious anymore?” You asked, feigning offence. 
“Not now that we’re best buddies. I’m thinking… Sparky!” 
“That is god awful.” 
“Exactly.” 
You snickered under your breath at his idiotic sense of humour, and allowed yourself to sink into the bed beside him. 
And for the first time, you didn’t want to leave.
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laiosynth · 2 years
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im on a road trip and bored out of my mind so my brain has demanded that i continue this post.
so, withour further ado:
With a Ghostly Heart.
Bruce sat in the batcave, staring at the camera feeds and videos from all over Gotham.
Each showed a figure that was far too familiar.
Bruce knew that it was a trick. Some kind of ploy, some kind of mind-game to make him forget himself in his mourning.
Each feed was minorly corrupted when the trickster (that was what it was- that was not his son) appeared.
The trickster appeared confused- though it knew Gotham like the back of its hand, clearly, it struggled to get about while exhibiting erratic and strange behavior. It would occasionally float, pass through walls, turn invisible, or fly without thinking, then turn back on its actions as if it had to think about acting normal.
Bruce was struggling to comprehend what the trickster wanted- whenever Bruce approached, it fled, and Bruce could never find it when it fled. It only showed up when it got sloppy, which Bruce didn't understand. It seemed to forget it could be seen, which didn't make any sense.
So, Bruce was struggling.
This thing, this trickster with his son's face, was beyond Bruce's comprehension.
"Bruce, you're overworking again," Dick chastizes from behind Bruce's chair, turning it so Bruce faced his first son. "I'm as confused as you are, but you need to go to bed."
"I'm not-"
"Bruce, Dick, online, now," Babs' voice rang from the bat computer into the cave, before an audio feed started playing.
"Danny, pick up, Ancients damn it! Fucking asshole..."
That was Jason's voice. The trickster had copied Jason's voice, too.
The other end of the line picked up and the trickster audibly sighed.
"Before you say anything, Danny, Babs is listening. Now come pick me up, I ended up in Gotham."
"Jason! Oh, Ancients, I thought you were- well, you're already dead, but you know what I mean."
"Not as dead as I was. I'm... my body is back? I'm partly alive. Sort of? We'll have to ask Frostbite or Vlad what's up with it. You'll have to teach me your ways."
"Jason... does this mean I'll have to exclude you from the dead jokes from now on?"
"Oh, piss off. I'm still more dead than your half-alive ass, and you get a part in them. I have more of a right to death jokes than you ever will, Pinnochio."
"Oh, you wound me. I'll be there in fice wait for me somewhere safe."
"You got it, your majesty."
"Oh, shut it. I'll kill you for that, I will."
"I'd like to see you try, my liege."
The line clicks, and there was silence for a moment.
"I know you're listening, Bruce. Let me rest. My afterlife is mine, and I'm not ready to have you in it."
And with that, the audio cut out.
Bruce puts his head in his hands.
"Fuck."
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sweetsmalldog · 4 days
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Svsss Characters as Games I’ve played
Luo Binghe: Cult of the Lamb
Binghe gets CotL because while it has a beautiful and cute art design it’s also fucked as hell. The Lamb is actively slaughtering gods in revenge, sacrificing their cultists like nothing, and making said cultists do things like cannibalism and killing each other in ritual death matches. It’s both adorable and fucked up which makes it perfect for Binghe.
Shen Yuan: Cozy Grove
Cozy Grove is a day by day game where you do quests for ghosts so they can get the memories back and they can cross over into the afterlife but none of that has anything to do with why I picked it for Shen Yuan. Why I picked it for Shen Yuan is that the main character who’s a child scout get accidentally sent to the island they aren’t suppose to send scouts too because they never come back and accidentally forgets to tie their boat up and gets stranded and is totally unfazed. There are skulls on sticks and they are unfazed. You half to dig through piles of bones for some quests and guess what they are unfazed. This is the closest level of “yeah I’m totally fine in a new world no longer able to see my loved ones” to Shen Yuan’s I’ve ever seen and that’s why I picked it.
Shang Qinghua: Monster Prom
Liu Mingyan: Also Monster Prom
I’m explaining these two together because it’s the same game and I’ve picked it for similar reasons. Out of the trio of games in this series Monster Prom is arguably the most tropey, it’s about getting a prom date but everyone is a monster. And I felt they both had to be dating sims as the only other options I could see I haven’t personally played which are Office Sim and Fighting Game respectively.
Tianlang-Jun: Monster Road Trip
Similar reasoning as above but I went with Monster Road Trip because I think he’d enjoy the exploration aspect of it.
Zhuzhi-Lang: Monster Camp
The final dating sim of the list I went with Monster Camp because I genuinely think he’d enjoy it. In a depressing “not enough affection” way though.
Liu Qingge: I think he’d burst into flames if he touched a video game I’m going to be so honest
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lilacxquartz · 1 month
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THE WAY HE SMILED • mahito x reader
summary: despite taking the correct security measures to protect yourself, one of the monsters still found a way to get to you—however, there was something a little too different about this one.
tags/warnings: monsters, horror, body horror, biting, blood, crossover, one shot, reader insert, dead dove, suggestive themes/but no smut, blood feeding, violence, backstory to introduce plot
a/n: i binge watched the horror show, ‘from’, so i had to write a crossover. season 1 only though.
w.c: 2.6k • mdni • masterlist • ao3
Just two years ago, you and your husband took a road trip to celebrate a full year’s anniversary of marriage.
You remembered it like it was yesterday, in fact.
It was something that you both planned for weeks and you were driving through one of the most beautiful states in the country, together in his cherry red sedan.
The weather was perfect for such an occasion too, with bright blue skies devoid of a single cloud accompanied by the warm glow of the sun just above. However, it wasn’t long before the trip was soon cut short by a dead end in the middle of the road.
Towards the telltale sign that signified everyone’s doom who ended up in this forsaken place.
That goddamned tree.
Just like everyone else, you were confused by the sudden deviation to the trip. The weather all over the state had indicated no destructive weather of the sort and yet the tree appeared to have been freshly fallen and the skies providing a sudden overcast, immediately dimming the bright day.
The two of you tried to combine your efforts and move the trunk over, but the tree simply wouldn’t budge. Eventually, you were both forced back into the car and had to take a different route to get to the destination in mind, realising a little too late that you were stuck in a loop.
Over and over, you would pass through a small town before coming to the reluctant conclusion that there was no escape and that something must have been seriously wrong.
This led to the first time that you both had ever argued with one another. Your husband’s stoic demeanour proved infuriatingly stubborn as he kept trying to leave the town again and again, but eventually he did hear the sheriff out. You, on the other hand, felt too tired from the strange turn of events and wanted both rest and an explanation.
No matter how absurd it was, no matter how surreal this whole situation might have seemed.
Soon enough, your husband yielded at long last after the first night. The gruesome aftermath of those unlucky to make it back home in time was sobering enough to snap him out of his disbelief.
Just like everyone else who had found themselves here, he succumbed to their ways, because just like everyone else… he wanted to live.
The two of you ended up settling in one of the vacant houses from before as a result and though it took a while to get used to, you slowly learned to adapt.
To live simply but safely tucked away in the declining suburbia.
Every night, you would fasten one of the provided runes right by the door and you would hold each other tight, blocking out the relentless knocking and screeching from just outside.
Until one day, the monsters took a personal approach.
Your husband, believing that since these creatures—these monsters—were capable of intelligent speech, that they could be perhaps reasoned with.
And upon letting one of those things inside, you couldn’t quite stop him from meeting his untimely end. Guts spilled from a sudden incision, blood pooling from his throat as he tried to warn you, the stains that will never wash out from the hardwood floor.
You had just barely escaped, too.
Your neighbours let you in and just in the nick of time, lest you would have quickly met your husband in the afterlife.
Returning alone to your home later alone, was a surreal experience. To never see him again. To never be held by him again. To never feel his lips on yours and to be forced to spend the remainder of your years without him felt so damn cruel.
Maybe by some sort of twisted miracle, this was all in fact a nightmare—a strangely realistic dream—something you could soon wake up from.
(But you weren’t willing to brave that experiment for yourself, because death was permanent. It was finalising. If you were wrong, then it would have been for nothing and that was too scary of a risk to face.)
And so despite it all, you persevered.
You would live on.
Without him and alone.
Every night you would secure the stone and close the curtains too. You would lock the windows, choosing later down the line to nail them shut because even though you were a grown woman, you didn’t trust yourself to fully be able to resist his potentially puppeteered body trying to will you outside.
You’d close the door to the bedroom and your dim the lights in the hope that it would deter the monsters that roamed outside, maybe they’d be less interested if you were presumably fast asleep?
For the most part, it did work anyway. You were alive and so was everyone else who stuck to these confining rules. You were safe during the day and as long as you went back by the time set, you’d be fine. It was as though you were all livestock for the hungry top of the food chain—refusing to accept the slaughter that surely soon awaited.
Until one night, a resident of the town claimed ti have an encounter with one of the creatures. Some listened, but nobody believed the guy. It wasn’t that uncommon to lose your mind in this town after a while, so the general consensus was just to ignore the craziness and entrust the sheriff to step in if it’s becoming a problem.
It was a danger to get involved.
You already knew that from a personal consequence.
Just days later however, the person in question died. Just dropped dead in the middle of the diner. The autopsy conducted over at the makeshift hospital seemed to imply that there was nothing wrong with him on the surface but something else was going on with the inside. It didn’t take too long for the word to escape that that the man’s innards were somehow rearranged from the inside, twisted and turned in a way that shouldn’t have been possible.
This revelation was a problem, however.
Because, if this man was telling the truth, then that implied a much bigger problem than before. If this man survived an audience with one of these creatures that were until then just manipulative man eating monsters, then that must have meant not all of them were simply looking to feed.
The implication that it even some of them were looking to purely just toy with people without jumping at their bones to eat them, then that was a concerning prospect indeed.
You didn’t leave your house after that tidbit of information was confirmed, choosing to hide away in your bedroom with the doors fully locked, with the talisman hopefully warding whatever played with one of the townspeople far, far away.
Just about ready to fall asleep, ready to end the night with much anticipated sleep—feeling worn out and tired from your own troubled mind—you jolted awake at the sound of the front door downstairs slowly clicking open and then closing. You could have sworn that you locked the door. You checked it yourself. You did lock it. You did.
And yet, you kept hearing the presence of someone who didn’t quite belong. Heavy-set footsteps that walked slowly upstairs at a calculated pace, the sound of scratching, whining wood as the rails whittled against the grain. The lights were off, the talisman was up in place and yet, whoever—whatever—it was inside your home didn’t sound the least bit human at all.
Your breath caught in your throat as what you prayed to be an auditory hallucination became reality instead. Your eyes trained on the doorknob to your bedroom, watching it rattle and twist and turn… and yet you remained screwed still into your mattress, too terrified to make a single move.
You watched with anticipated unease as what appeared to be man with long silvery locks of hair and dark ragged cloth sauntered into your bedroom, with eyes as extinguished as coals, burning his sights right into your very own.
Finally, you were able to thaw and move, pushing yourself into an upright seated position as your hand extended, scrambling to reach for the switch of the bedside lamp. The light proved dim, just barely illuminating the man before you but enough for you to understand that it was one of those wretched things. Those terrifying, creepy, vile things and this one in particular seemed extra mocking; its smile almost grotesque.
Immediately, you tried to back away as though it was possible to create an unseen barrier between you and the creature but deep down you knew it to be futile.
You stammered on and off, barely choking out your words in frenzied anticipation, “W-wait, how d-did you get in here, I-I have the talisman and—“
“—oh? Those silly things?” the creature cut in, his stretching smile loosening one of the stitches he had on his face, “that won’t work on me.”
“W-what?” you gasped.
“Those runes might work on the others, but I’m a bit special if you couldn’t already tell,” he purred, taking a step closer, forcing you to back up on your feet as he climbed over the bed to get to you.
In a blurt of panic, you choked out an attempted warning, “S-stay back…!”
But he ignored you, of course, choosing to close in on you regardless. His frame was taller than yours and he managed to cage you in back up against the wall, feeling the rough surface of peeling paper chip against your flesh. His own skin felt cold against yours as his pointed fingernails traced against your body, leaving you in a state of pure discomfort.
“Poor thing,” he cooed as he cornered you, “so alone, cooped up in here looking so afraid~”
There was something sinsister with how this creature spoke; his words so carefully thought out yet his vocal patterns were somehow not human at all. Even the other monsters that roamed around outside after dark still somehow sounded more… put together… than whatever this thing was.
Your eyes blurred as they attempted to focus on the creature before you, trying to pick up anything about it that would make sense to you, but nothing did. His pale skin had almost seemed translucent as it stretched over his body, warping at its limit and barely contained through shoddily woven stitches to conceal whatever it was that could have been lurking underneath.
The way that he moved so slowly was almost sickeningly taunting; his skin finally connecting yours after a hot moment of his protruding claws teasing you. It was then sudden, but you felt him dip something sharp into your skin, pulling apart the very tissue that held you together. Slowly, he tore into your flesh, pulling an aching wound open down your arm. You whimpered as the blood pooled and dropped down the limb, feeling the cold air sting against your exposed cut.
Your breathing turned ragged, just barely coming out as shuddering gasps, babbling out pleading gasps that signalled desperation. Quietly, you prayed for the luxury of a quick death, yet the monster before you continued.
His body lowered as he leaned towards you, his lips dipping against your maimed arm as he poked his tongue out to lap against the rolling beads of escaping blood. Such a sensation felt nauseating the longer that he forced you to endure it, sliding his tongue between the wound, almost as though hungry for more.
Bringing himself back up again, he sucked against his bottom lip to savour any remnants of your blood, practically moaning as he tasted it, “So delicious~”
In another attempt to hurry it up, you begged him again, “P-please, no more…”
And of course, he didn’t stop. You were still alive, feeling dizzied from the sensation that he forced you to experience.
“Want to know the difference between me and the others… similar to me?” he asked you instead, his smile unwavering.
You could only shake your head in response.
He continued to explain to you regardless, whether or not you knew the answer already, “The others only need a sample to satisfy their hunger, whereas I need the full course.”
You swallowed a sharp lump in your throat at his words, having an inkling of an idea of what he was talking about which terrified you.
“I’d love to devour you whole,” he continued onwards, dipping his index finger against your still running blood, licking it on and off, his voice sounding almost affectionate as he spoke, “there’s nothing quite as delicious as the meat of a frightened soul.”
“M-make it quick,” you resigned, hoping that he would listen to your protest and shorten your life to spare you from the upcoming torture.
“Ah, ah, ah~,” the stitched up man shook his head, wagging his finger in a mocking gesture, “I don’t quite enjoy the taste of corpses, so I’d rather you be alive for our little sessions.”
(Sessions. Plural…?)
“Y-you’re not going to kill me then?” you asked, confused.
He rolled his head back and smiled an obnoxious grin before winding himself forward again, “Oh, you’d think so, but no, not yet,” he soothed, “I think I’ll have my fun with completely draining you first, picking you apart bit by bit…” his teeth nestling into your bare shoulder as he continued to speak, “until there’s nothing left of you.”
More tears spilled from your welling eyes, feeling absolutely hopeless and utterly broken from hearing his plans. The idea that he intended to whittle away at your body as his living source of fuel was more horrific than any other possibility you could ever imagine.
Rejecting that idea, you shook your head, your words coming in desperate, “A-anything but that, p-please, please—“
“—now, now,” he playfully hushed, his breath hot as he spoke into the slope of your shoulder, sinking his teeth into your flesh; piercing deep enough to tap into bone. The sensation was gnawing yet somehow sharp, causing you to violently thrash as he continued to feed on you, his calloused hands holding you in place, “it isn’t so bad, I promise you, my delicious one.”
“Not like this…” you whined as you wept.
“I’ll protect you from the others, my beautiful delicacy,” he continued to slur, “my food and mine alone~”
Yet all you could do was repeat the same thing over and over again, “…Why?”
“Because I’m bored, silly,” he tauntingly mocked, continuing to take a larger bite from your shoulder as you choked out a scream that was soon muffled by his hand plugging your lips.
Feeling quickly dizzy as a result from such drained blood loss, your legs lost stability as they stood. It was as though your joints became soft, the bones turning into jelly. Allowing you to slump down, the creature held you upright with your back angled up against the wall, continuing to feast upon your exposed flesh until seemingly full.
Soon your vision blurred as you just barely recovered, watching him drunk on your innards with an intoxicated look on his face. His complexion seemed richer too and the wiry threads that stitched his skin together now seemed to be stronger.
“You’ll recover for me, won’t you?” it asked, lapping a final taste off of your mangled shoulder with the flick of his tongue; “heal so that I can visit you again and again and again~”
Unable to respond, he didn’t seem to mind, picking you up and lifting you into bed. His actions felt almost teasing with how close he brought you to the brink of death, only to tuck you in and leave you to recover.
“Until next time,” you heard him sing, your eyelids forcing themselves shut, unable to even imagine what horrors could possibly lie ahead.
Let alone what this meant for the town itself.
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imaginesofeverykind · 6 months
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Witches Brew ~ Chapter 1
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Warnings: HEAVY mentions of blood/gore, magic described as visceral, catholic-centric monotheism demonised, gore themes, Aegon being the epitome of ‘omg i’ll do whatever except tell mum’, Body horror, 18+ Minors DNI
Tags: DnD-Esque style AU, Targaryens aren't royalty but they are Noblefolk, some things are purposefully vague :S :S
Chapter Song: Go Tell Aunt Rhody (RE7 soundtrack) - Michael A. Levine, Jordan Reyne
Summary: To practice magic is to slight God with the devil's embrace. It is evil, sin, consuming and the price one pays is never worth what one seeks. Yet people, in times of desperation often turn to desperate measures, in Aegon’s case, medicinal remedy is not an option. No healer can undo what has been done. But the Hag tucked away behind reeds, water topped with algae and the voracious bog may be able to. For a price.
Word Count: 3.8k
Series Masterlist
Vicious rapping squanders the peace and quiet of a relatively silent part of the swamp. Moonlight splits off, cutting through the canopy of overgrowth that shields a peculiar abode entangled within the trunk of an elder tree. The crickets sing among the toads’ baritone croaks until they cease, abiding by the loud pounding on the wooden door that barely stays on its hinges, splintering from wood rot.
”Please!”
A guttural plea, desperation lingering atop the vowels. No one ever came to the decrepit hut unless they were on the brink, teetering the veil of life, quite literally on death's door. But death hardly answered, in its wake, oftentimes stood you; for those who braved the trek.
He had almost given up, muscles begging him for rest, for a modicum of reprieve from the toil it took just to arrive at the steps of a stranger's hut. The weight, the pain, it was enough to finally buckle his shaky grime covered knees, splinters embedded themselves into the palms of his hands the moment his hands hit the wood beneath him. 
“I need —,” a whimper, is all that managed to escape his throat. His eyes flickered to the body beside him — not body, he wasn’t dead yet — to his brother laying beside him, laboured breaths that sucked through his barred teeth in discomfort. 
Lips curled into a snarl, he brought his fist down on the decking one final time, “open the door you fucking wretch!” 
He nearly cowered when the door yanked open, yellow light spilling out into the dark bog from the hearth that roared inside. No one stood in the frame of the door, no one beckoned him inside the derelict home and despite this, he rose to his feet, scraping his newly acquired trousers. There was little energy left in him, just enough to drag the mauled body of his brother - one that inched closer to the afterlife - over the threshold of the hut.
”Sit.” 
He spun on his feet, nearly tripping over the pile of wood stacked beside the hearth when his eyes landed on you, who had appeared, simply materializing from nothing. It was only mere seconds until he was set on you again, a frantic torment that willed him near you, “Hag, you must help him!” Despite his weary disposition, he demanded help.
A nobleman. You think, taking his appearance in. Both men donned the same white hair, similarly crafted attire that screamed wealth and you are automatically aware of who was inside your abode. The township off the Kings Road comes to your mind, owned by a Lord as it had been for the past century.
”Well?! Must I get on my knees?” He was angry, that much was clear, but he was more afraid above all.
You waved dismissively, though not toward the stranger, the Lordling. The table of apothecary jars and dissected creatures vanish, though they never are truly gone, and you gesture for the man to place his injured companion. He’s confused at first, most people are when they come to you. Magic was no longer what it was, you could feel it wane the harder religion sought to destroy it. He most likely has never seen it this close.
But he silently obeys, with great effort hauling his brother up on the table and like you had before, appeared behind him as silently as the fog that began to seep through the crack beneath the door. He flinched away instantly, you fought back a sly smirk but your focus was on the man with long matted locks. The hair was a brilliant white, the same as his brothers, identical as the Lord of the closest settlement, but it was marred with the crimson syrup of blood.
You bring a finger to his mutilated face, your pointed nails more akin to talons than that of humans, they threaten to crack the white porcelain of his skin. Swiping a long line down, coating the pads of your fingertips in blood and bringing it to your mouth for a taste. Bitter. The able bodied man recoiled at the sight, but you pay him no mind as you examine the injured one.
His eye was gone. That was a shame. You were fond of eyes as payment.
”Can you heal him?” The man beside you asked, voice small, almost childlike and feeble. ”Name your price, make him whole again and I’ll — I’ll give you whatever you want. Fix him.” His anguish raked through your ears and rattled against your mind like razor sharp teeth, your neck instinctively lolling from left to right as if to ward off the discomfort that followed.
”They’ll know.” You answer cryptically, caressing the side of the younger man's face much like a mother would when tucking in a babe for the evening.
“Can. You. Fix. Him?” His patience was wearing thin.
You sigh, turning to face him properly for the first time since he arrived. Violet eyes. Magic touched his very heritage and yet his own kin sought to erase it, the irony was not lost on you. “He will be different.” You say as a warning, a politeness he certainly didn’t deserve yet you gave it anyway.
Anger overcame him, outstretching his hands and coiling his fingers around the scruff of your filthy dress to yank you toward him. You happen to catch the brief glint of silver, but you had caught it, the blade with your hand wrapping around it to stop it from piercing your chest. Not that it would have damaged your heart, you wonder if his intent was to scare or if he simply forgot which side the human heart resided.
The blade cut through your skin, rivers of red beginning to run down your wrist. The pain is welcome.
“Fix him. Or else I’ll drag you to Oldtown where you can burn in the circle you filthy animal.” 
Animal. As if you were no longer good enough to be likened to a person, a human person capable of human things. ‘They fear what they cannot control,’ the voice is recalled into your mind, a vague memory of the past resurfacing as though it meant to reassure you.
Your lips twist into an awry smirk, and the second he blinks you have once again dissolved through his hands like an apparition. Reappearing by his brother's side, sliced hand outstretched to let your own blood drip tantalizingly slow over the unconscious man’s face.
In your other hand is a surprisingly ornate steel flask, an eyesore amongst the natural clutter. Whatever liquid you have delicately poured down the man’s throat is sanguine, syrupy thick like honey. You sense there is something not quite right mere seconds before the man begins to convulse violently, gasping for air that he cannot breathe.
”What have you done?!” Nostrils flared and ire rising, the able bodied one charged toward you like a boar gone rabid. 
You grew tired of his impetulant outbursts, whispering a soft incantation with hurried hand flourishes and his movements ceded. Burnt into the wooden boards around his feet, still smoking with specks of orange embers were runes, etched into a circle. Something felt off, the air reeked of acrid mildew mixed with copper and you knew instantly what triggered the reaction.
Ignoring the binded man’s threats you let the magic sing to you, caress you, consume you while softly speaking in a forgotten and forbidden tongue.
The windows and door fly open, inviting in a malstrom of wind, tempestuous and bludgeoning, the centre it wishes to converge is at the body on the table still choking, still clawing at himself for air. His spirit dwindles at every garbled breath but you sense his will and you could feel his fight, he was a warrior through and through even in the face of imminent mortal peril. Not many of those who seek you, offer the same resoluteness. 
The older brother is driven to shield his face from the vacuum of wind battering him against the unseen magical force which keeps him in place. Fear was evident in his eyes, perhaps even a touch of regret and guilt though you don’t linger too long as you shout a final mantra, holding both your forearms with formidable strength that is unbroken until the last word passes your lips, you break your grasp.
And then suddenly, the gale force of destruction dissipates.
Silence follows. And you are sat beside the young brother, placing a paste across the part of his face which had been torn away viciously. “What attacked him?” It was the first time you had spoken so directly, but it was because you knew the answer, the nobleman before you couldn’t possibly know what lurked through the mangroves and stalked beneath the stillwater.
He doesn’t appear to comprehend the question at first, muttering to himself a litany of false truths to explain what had happened right in front of him. His very own trembling brings him back from his prison of thoughts as his gaze lifts cautiously to meet yours, “a Direwolf.”
“How did you know it was a Direwolf?” You ask instantly, predicting that he would say as much. No matter, you step over to the cabinet that housed jars filled with all sorts of assorted components for potion making or spell casting, the moon light coming through the window casting an eerie shadow on the workspace.
”What else do you call a giant fucking wolf, what does it matter?” He grew restless again.
You dripped a small phial of black liquid into the mortar filled with other ingredients with great haste, eyes curiously peering out the window looking at the moon as you grimly sigh and mix together what’s been obtained. “It matters,” you grit, trying to grind the remainder of the paste, “the difference between a Direwolf and what attacked him is an exceptionally vindictive blood curse.”
He blinked at you, “what?”
You discard the mortar and cross the room swiftly, shelves littered with bones, glowing rocks and a variety of ceremonial looking daggers. Though magic and its very history were being erased by the ‘new god’, you still hoped those within the settlement weren’t entirely sheltered. 
“He will know no master lest it is the moon, he will know no anger stronger than wrath, he will know only pain and isolation.”
The expression that fell across his face told you all that was needed; He understood fully what was at stake, just as you had moments before. Though his resolve hardened and he met your gaze once more, “cure him. Whatever it takes, I do not care!” Both of you knew he was in no position to demand, not when he was still held in place by unseen magic and you had proven many times how easily it was to simply disappear.
And that is what you did, if only briefly, shooting him a coy smile before vanishing and leaving him in ruination for the moment. In the silence, forced to look at his brother made his lip tremble. He hoarsely called out to him, shaky words choking in half sobs to beckon him awake and rip him from unconsciousness to no avail.
”He’s not here,” You softly say, causing him to jump when you reappear and brush past him. “His soul is in limbo, he won’t hear you.” But I can, you think, the energy sings to your soul in a gentle hymn and your blood sings back to it. In your hand a lock of silver hair clasped in your fist, having come from where you disappeared to, though it caused immediate alarm for the man. 
He pointed a finger at your hand and grimaced, his bottom lip still trembling but no longer from hopelessness. Though he doesn’t ask the question out loud, you know what he’s thinking and you were certain he wouldn’t like the answer regardless of how you explained it.
“Whatever it takes,” you gently repeated his words and it was enough to silence him, for far longer than you thought was possible. Though the silence was welcomed, encouraging concentration while you handled the spellcraft with the care and love that had been taught to you. The woman in your memory that provided warmth and affection was not your mother by blood and yet she lived through your very essence as if she were.
She was there with every spell, whispering gently and coaxing a power buried deep within you. She was in the walls of the hut, imbuing you with much needed protection from creatures and men. And she was here, watching you through omniscient delight as you dedicated part of your essence to a stranger and his injured brother.
The serenity only just takes the edge of tension away, as if you weren’t tending to the impossible feat of near resurrection and stitching a man whole together once more. Life was fragile, mortality was inevitable even to those who yearn against it but magic could manipulate it enough even if it took great energy. It wasn’t without drawbacks, though. Transactional in nature, to undo what has been done required blood magic, the type of magic you were versed well in but it almost always came with consequence.
’What is taken, must be given back’ the words of your ‘mother’ echoed superfluously everytime your duty required meddling with the laws of nature. Perhaps that was why many travelers or townsfolk revered you as a hag, if not for the way you dressed or looked or lived, then for your duty as an indiscriminate arbiter of unfairness and misfortune.
Magic was fair, balanced and it obeyed karmic laws, this was why you cradled such energy. Life was not, it was often unfair and that much had been made clear the moment your real mother left you in a swamp to be taken by whatever monsters prowled in search for their next meal.
So you do what needed to be done - if only a little self serving to you personally but - you give back the injured man what had been clawed away and take something from his family locked away in their fortress within the walls of their beloved township. Not without a final twist in the knife for the older brother who demanded your help many hours ago. Appearing beside him like a shade, gripping his wrist abruptly and slicing a line across his palm to draw blood.
He attempted to fight back but he was bound, he could only wince and complain while you squeezed the blood into a medium phial. When you had finished, he snatched his hand back, holding it to his chest as if to soothe the pain and grimaced at you almost childishly, “you could’ve asked.”
A faint smile tickles the corner of your lips, though it was no matter of if his words were amusing or his mannerism when he calmed down were fascinating, there was still a task at hand. 
The final part of the brutal rite fell appropriately on the witching hour, where the crow sings thrice while the moon is still high. To complete everything, you dropped several dribbles of the brother's blood into the injured’s mouth and finished off your words of sacrilege.
”He will recover,” You announce, finally after what seemed like hours upon hours of the sounds of your transfixed mumblings and careful spell work.
The man hadn’t heard you at first, in fact he had barely registered the runic circle by his feet had disappeared quite some time ago which meant he was no longer bound in place yet he still remained as if he were. But the only thing that broke him from his trance had been the shallow breath followed by his younger brother lurching forward in a confused panic.
No longer was his face torn, eye gouged, the only indication of that was the faint pink scar that remained. His eyes — both, set on you and he surged forward straight toward your neck. Not that you could blame him for being in such a state, though it would be rather humorous to allow him to indulge in his urges and let him throttle you, you step out of his reach like an alluring treat that only served to frustrate him.
The older one flung himself forward, fretting over the younger and the tension immediately dispersed into quaint relief. Though it lasted no longer than a matter of moments, chaos stalked the two like they were messengers from the god of chaos himself, the energy between them repelling from one another like static in a storm. You could merely watch on in light amusement at the bickering duo.
“— I already think so low of you and yet you exceed expectations once more. Bringing me to this devil whisperer's den?!”
”Well I was simply not going to bring you home marked and dying!”
“If you must lie that you care for me dear brother, at least have the conviction to not pretend you had my interests at heart when we both know you wish to save your skin. Now I have to explain to mother why I stench of sin.”
You laughed, quite loudly it had broken the two from grappling one another to look over. The glimpses of lives you often see when people stop by are often times quite enlightening, just as it appeared in the present between two quarrelling brothers. One who thirsts for recognition and appreciation while the other wishes to disappear and fade to obscurity.
“Do we amuse you, hag?” The younger ones eyes set on you, his grimace was apparent as he did little to hide his contempt.
“Quite.” You hum, barefoot toes curling into the splintered wood while thinking aimlessly. No words followed, not when your gaze cast on the elder who had gone a shade lighter in his face, his limbs beginning to quake and tremble. Cracked lips curling into a smile as you watch him collapse to the floor, writhing in what one could assume was unrelenting pain, the type of pain that embedded itself into a person.
“Aegon — Brother!” The younger falls to his brothers side and you watch curiously, how interesting the dynamic was between the brothers. Their resentment ran deep yet there was still a matter of love beneath it, a bond that weaved itself between them despite such obtuse differences.
The younger was furious, shooting his deadly gaze at you with nostrils flared and he lunged at you, this time for mere entertainment, you let his hands wrap around your neck and press you hard against the cabinet. “You fucking monster! What have you done to me! To him?!” He spat, rightfully so, you thought that someone as pious as him would befall such a fate, though from the little information you’ve gathered on the two, Aegon — as you now know him — did not share such piety.
A weary smirk pulled at the corner of your lips, choking out, “I am no monster, little lordling though it pleases me so, to bestow a mark on your family who seeks to reject their very own heritage.” 
The screams and pleas of Aegon in the background fuelled this one’s anger, “we’ll have you burnt for that —“ His hands tighten their grip, leaving you to his mercy for now in his hands like a ragdoll force to move at his whim, jerking you forward and then slamming you back into the cabinet. Glass shattered from the impact around the both of you but your focus remained on him, the only thing to do in the instance was laugh and so you did.
“Quite the ferocious brute you are — you’d have made a fine servant to the moon, though I cannot say the same about your brother.” His hands squeezed down on your windpipe with malicious intent but you remain unperturbed despite the immense pressure building within your head. Like a bubble about to burst.
The elders' whimpers of pain droned on in the background, mixing into the symphony of nature that carried on throughout the marsh. You had a little too much fun toying with people, if they were to treat you a certain way, who were you to not at least get amusement from it? 
You laughed, bringing a fist full of powder up and flicking it in his face before disappearing through his fingertips like grains of sand. The powder served distraction enough, staggering him back and you silently thank your motherly figure for always ensuring you carried turmeric. Even if it was to ward off bad spirits only.
When you reappeared, your lips barely skimming the shell of Aegon’s ear as you whisper a soft incantation, it felt lewd and profane but at once his pain ceased. The wrinkling in his forehead and face softened while beads of sweat trickled downward, threatening to sully his eyesight by falling into it.
In your hand was the phial of blood you had taken from Aegon, the other held the scruff of his neck. His brother only just recovered from having powder flung in his face, the searing and burning had barely stopped when his eyes settled on you, hovering over Aegon like an enchantress with ill intent.
You crushed the phial in your hands, glass cutting the insides of your palm mixing two bloods together, placing your bloodied hand to Aegon’s sweaty forehead and began muttering swift words. You turned to the younger one, haggard and crazed with a look in your eye that seemed to elicit fear in both of them, raising a clawed hand up you pointing directly at him.
“I have done what is asked of me, to unmark and unburden you. And the cost has been paid. He —“ you look down at Aegon’s fearful eyes, and something in your mind whispers to you to show mercy, it is not your voice, rather hers the one who taught you the ways of magic, “he may now be a servant of the moon but he is bound to me.  Every lunar cycle when the moon is at its fullest he must come to me lest he be made an example from the zealot’s who poison your minds with promises of false salvation and piety.” You were still rather on the theatrical side, not truly enforcing a blood bind on him. And yet, it had the desired effect. Fear.
“And if he doesn’t?” The younger asks in mock defiance, serving as a mask to hide the fear so prevalent in his eyes.
“Then when you pray at night you better hope your false god listens.”
——— Taglist ———
Lemme know if you wanna be tagged for the next update! :D
@karlachs-soldier
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where-the-water-flows · 5 months
Text
thinking about a world where Li xiangyi does actually get murked in the donghai battle / of poison, but through a series of events, ends up kind of... wandering the world as a ghost for a while, which isn't great and gives him so much time to think about everything he fucked up, and then, because his life is a farce, ends up eventually accidentally possessing this brat.
this very familiar brat. this brat who has spent the last several years training and all but breaking himself to get strong enough, healthy enough, based on a dead man's words, this brat who just got his ass kicked out of the baichun court (again) and is already making plans for how he can conceal his identity to get through the exam next time.
this very familiar brat he would fucking like to unposess as fast as possible, actually, only it appears they are fucking stuck with each other, and ok, maybe finishing unfinished business will let him, y'know, move on to his well deserved punishment of the afterlife, and thus: it's time for a weird ghost road trip.
(fang doubing has doubts about the literal fucking ghost in his head, who is very clearly lying about, uh, a lot of things, but on the other hand he is learning like, so much about investigating and also just every topic under the sun it feels like, and it's not exactly being a proper detective, but... he's got a year, anyway, and maybe showing up with a solved case or twelve under his belt will convince them to give him a chance)
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ratsetflummi · 6 months
Note
Okay, now the FUNNIEST Legend of Drizzt moments. *gets popcorn*
uhhh, how much time do you have?
i need to put this under a read more, because i ended up finding one scene per book on average
told you that this series is actually a comedy
1) that time when drizzt thought that three lighting bolts aimed directly at his face were just a friendly sparring session, and then immediately got distracted and forgot all about that attempted assassination because he saw a cat
2) drizzt and zaknafein both going "oh no, he is lost to the evil ways of our people, i would do the world a service by killing him" at each other, but not doing anything about it
3) the first thing we ever learn about jarlaxle being that he has special gay pride merch that is enchanted so you can still see that it's supposed to be a rainbow even in complete darkness
4) that one human wizard drizzt ran into in the middle of the underdark. just. that wizard's entire existence. why does he have a german accent. why does he keep shooting lightning bolts out of his tower when they keep being reflected back at him. rip brister fendlestick, you were only in that one scene, but i miss you every day
5) the mindflayers going "fwoop!" when they shoot a blast of brain melting energy at you
6) drizzt: who are you? you are not my father! zombie!zaknafein: no, i am your… mother!
7) drizzt learning what a skunk is
8) that one wizard that entreri was travelling with in streams of silver messing up her knock spell and dropping entreri's belt instead, and entreri going against what you would expect from his archetype in that kind of story (which would be getting angry and possibly violent) and just sarcastically going "oh wow, great job" and calmly picking his belt up again
9) drizzt casually revealing that he can juggle, suggesting that either he juggles as a hobby (unlikely) or implying some interesting things about drow weapon training
10) entreri choosing to put sewer water in his mouth just to gain little tactical advantage (and then still losing the fight anyway)
11) entreri showing up disguised as regis, dropping his own name in conversations weirdly often under the assumption that the companions are way more worried about him than they actually are, and the companions being completely oblivious about regis acting way differently than normal
12) entreri's insistence that he and drizzt are great rivals, while drizzt can barely be bothered to remember that entreri exists
13) drizzt training a seal to retrieve guenhwyvar's figurine from the bottom of the ocean
14) the heart-shaped drizzt-seeking locket. the fact that that exists, as well as the fact that entreri had that back in the peak rivalry days
15) entreri casually introducing himself as mister do'urden for absolutely no good reason (i genuinely still don't know why he did that)
16) jarlaxle: kimmuriel, you are the leader of the bregan d'aerthe now, i'm going on a road trip with entreri kimmuriel: i'm what?! entreri: you're doing what?!
17) entreri going to the effort of painting jarlaxle's silhouette on the wall to throw knives at the crotch
18)
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20) jarlaxle being peak peacock in promise of the witch-king
21) jarlaxle throwing pies at a random couple in a bakery because he mistook them for assassins
22) the reveal that jarlaxle and kimmuriel were just casually watching entreri fuck his girlfriend
23) the several scenes in pirate king where salvatore seemingly forgot that regis is a halfling, because drizzt keeps putting his arm around regis' shoulders and walking away like that, when really regis' shoulders should be down somewhere around drizzt's knees
24) a manifestation of mielikki coming to carry catti-brie to the afterlife, catti-brie responding that she needs to go sleep with her husband first, and mielikki allowing this and just coming back for her in the morning
25) entreri and dahlia behaving in a way that i can only describe as two teenage girls fighting over their mutual crush
26) the entire scene when they threw charon's claw into the primordial pit and entreri failed to die
27) drizzt: come on an adventure with me! entreri: drizzt, it's two in the fucking morning, what the fuck
28) drizzt making puppy eyes at entreri so he will please go on an adventure with him and entreri just closing the door in his face
29) the entire soap opera that was drizzt and dahlia's relationship
30) kimmuriel walking in on jarlaxle sleeping with at least two drow of undisclosed gender and just standing there and staring until jarlaxle finally puts on his trousers
31) jarlaxle's constant innuendos and seeming inability to shut up about his sex life
32) jarlaxle looking completely calm and composed from the outside at all times, but any scene from his pov revealing that he has no idea what he is doing and is lowkey panicking half the time
33) catti-brie: drizzt is my husband, i have been brought back to life to help him and not for anything else bruenor: yeah, same! uh, except that he isn't my husband
34) the dragons flirting with drizzt and drizzt kinda panicking about how to reject them without being eaten as revenge
35) jarlaxle finding drizzt down in a tunnel fighting demons, and just pulling an entire fine dining set out of his hat and having fancy dinner while his bird is ripping more demons apart just around the corner
36) the reveal that jarlaxle is bald because of repeated fireballs to the face
37) this instance of everyone rolling nat1s on their geography check
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38) jarlaxle threatening people with knowledge of his kinks
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39) random citizen: she's so pretty jarlaxle: yes, thank you, finally someone who recognizes my beauty
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warnersister · 1 year
Text
INSTAMAGINE DANNY RIC WITH AN ELITE RUNNER! READER Pt. 6
Daniel Ricciardo x Reader
Daniel Dicciardo INSTAMAGINE!
youruser
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youruser: I’ve never eaten so much cake in my life😵🍰 might be having a cake baby with how full I am rn
📍: Maria’s Gâteaux de Mariage
🏷️: danielricciardo, mariasgatmar
❤️: mariasgatmar, emmajanelbates, maxverstappen1 and 6,745,925 others
💬:
danielricciardo: I feel like we should have a cake split evenly into 1/25ths so we can have everything😋😋
-> youruser: danielricciardo you’re the boss🫡
mariasgatmar: pleasure meeting the two of you, can wait to get started on this cake🍰🩵
-> youruser: mariasgatmar wouldn’t dream of having our cake made by anyone else!!🩷
danielricciardo: cake baby(real baby??? Pls??)
-> maxverstappen1: danielricciardo dibs on godfather
-> emmajanelbates: danielricciardo dibs on godmother
emmajanelbates: so excited for tomorrow🤭🤭
-> f1fan: emmajanelbates WHATS TOMORROW????
-> ynrunner: f1fan I hope it’s the dress oml😭
emmajanelbates
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emmajanelbates: (almost) mrs ricciardo😭🤍
📍: Kleinfeld
🏷️: youruser, kleinfeldbridal
❤️: youruser, ynrunner, runningworld and 238,952 others
💬:
danielricciardo: did she say yes to the dress?
-> emmajanelbates: danielricciardo yes and I cried. You are one lucky man.
-> danielricciardo: emmajanelbates believe me, I know.
youruser: I’ve never cried at a dress before but here we are😭
sarahall3: I can’t wait for the hen
-> youruser: sarahall3 me neither🤭
danielricciardo
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danielricciardo: suited, booted, ready for the stag.
📍: Monte-Carlo, Monaco
🏷️: maxverstappen1, michaelitaliano, landonorris
❤️: maxverstappen1, f1fan, youruser and 10,835,545 others
💬:
maxverstappen1: that was shit mate can’t even call it a stag
-> danielricciardo: maxverstappen1 I said no strippers and that’s the best you could do??
landonorris: first stag… how did I do?
-> pierregasly: landonorris no
-> maxverstappen1: landonorris no
youruser: aww bless you guys look all grown up
-> danielricciardo: youruser I’m older than you babe. 😐
youruser
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youruser: 🐓🤍
📍: Charmonix running track, France
🏷️: emmajanelbates, sarahall3, em_sisson_
❤️: danielricciardo, pierregasly, sarahall3 and 9,845,745 others
💬:
danielricciardo: no! My runaway bride!
-> youruser: danielricciardo running back to you❤️
em_sisson_: can you get married every week?😭😭
ynrunner: omg I can’t wait to see the wedding pics
-> f1fan: ynrunner same
-> danielricciardo: ynrunner same.
user10: Pierre Gasly? (Adam Sandler?) what are you doing here?
-> pierregasly: user10 waiting for them to play gangnam style
danielricciardo
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danielricciardo: my love, my life, my everything. From the moment I accidentally tripped you up running I knew that you were the person I wanted to wake up next to everyday. The one I wanted to have and to hold. The one to give me a kiss before my race. The one to carry our children. The one to retire with in a secluded section of Italy. The last person to see before I shut my eyes. The one where death shall not past is and our souls will continue to run through the afterlife. You, Mrs Yn Ricciardo.
📍: Villa Balbiano
🏷️: youruser
❤️: maxverstappen1, youruser, georgerussell63 and 13,854,935 others
💬:
user1: babe look mom and dad are married
youruser: my husband🤍
maxverstappen1: proud mate.
-> landonorris: maxverstappen1 stfu you cried man
comments have been limited
youruser
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youruser: I am proud to announce that my World Athletics Association ID Card has officially been changed to Yn Ricciardo. Daniel, I called the open roads my home before I met you, but now I realise my home is not a place, but a person. I come home from a bad run to open arms and a kiss. I wake up next to a person who pleads with me for just five more minutes. Who wakes up before me to get my energy gels ready. Who stands at the finish line crying and screaming how proud he is of me. The man I am forever indebted to. The one who is vulnerable behind closed doors. Who trusts me with his heart of which I will protect with my own. To the rest of the season, engine or foot. To the rest of our lives. To you, Daniel Ricciardo.
📍: Villa Balbiano
🏷️: danielricciardo
❤️: danielricciardo, ynrunner, emmajanelbates and 12,845,634 others
💬:
danielricciardo: yeah bitches that’s my wife
-> maxverstappen1: danielricciardo yeah act all smug like you didn’t just cry over the description
-> landonorris: maxverstappen1 says you
user2: my wife has been taken😔
kipchogeeliud: congratulations, my friends🙌🏿🧡
f1wags: officially a (W)ag!!🤍🤍 congratulations to the Ricciardos!! Xx
maxverstappen1
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maxverstappen1: congratulations to Mr and Mrs Ricciardo. How you bagged a babe like that? I don’t know. But what I do know is how much love you hold for one another. Best of luck to you both. ❤️❤️
📍: Villa Balbiano
🏷️: youruser, danielricciardo
❤️: youruser, danielricciardo, pierregasly and 8,734,749 others
💬:
user8: Pierre? What are you doing here??
-> pierregasly: user8 I’m not doing it again.😐
-> user8: pierregasly😐
emmajanelbates: I wonder the same thing max.
landonorris: haha u cried
-> maxverstappen1: landonorris stfu
danielricciardo: best man🙌🏼🙌🏼
youruser: love you maxy❤️❤️
-> maxverstappen1: youruser If you ever get divorced you know my number🤙
-> danielricciardo: maxverstappen1 😐
f1fan: notice charles’ absence?👀👀
maxverstappen1 added to their story!
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youruser
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youruser: honeymoonin’ with my honey badger❤️❤️
📍: Seychelles
🏷️: danielricciardo
❤️: landonorris, pierregasly, danielricciardo and 8,735,645 others
💬:
maxverstappen1: no strava activities?
-> danielricciardo: maxverstappen1 can’t run if she can’t walk😉
-> f1fan: danielricciardo DANIEL???
-> youruser: danielricciardo good riddance. (The green day version)
-> danielricciardo: youruser marry me.
-> youruser: danielricciardo I did <3
-> f1fan: youruser bros punching the air rn
-> danielricciardo: f1fan yep.
pierregasly: such a beautiful place!
-> youruser: pierregasly je suis d’accord!
danielricciardo: I’m living a dream.
landonorris: I want what they have
-> youruser: landonorris Lando NoRizz haha
-> maxverstappen1: youruser that was a violation.
danielricciardo
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danielricciardo: can I just spend forever with you? ❤️❤️
📍: Seychelles
🏷️: youruser
(danielricciardo)’s post is no longer available! It has either been deleted or has failed. Post not found•
I’m so sorry it took me this long! Bit of a writers block + got exams, but I’m back!! Pt. 7 soon (hopefully)
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Text
New in Town
ok one last thing for the midwest emo ghouls since i was on a work trip last week and apparently wrote almost 1300 words on Phantom's arrival in town when i was bored in seminars (i don't think anyone's told that story so far?). one day i'll learn my lesson on handwriting in a notebook bc writing it up was a struggle
Rating: general words: ~1300 cw:
Phantom stumbled into town on a Wednesday. As he stepped off the bus and landed in a puddle he wondered, not for the first time, if moving here had been a mistake. First of all, it was raining. He didn’t know why this surprised him, as it was approaching the Yuletide season in the sleepy Midwestern town he was hoping to call home. Secondly, he was cold. There was a biting wind blowing the rain straight into his face, and within seconds of stepping off the bus he was shivering and soaked to his skin. He hoisted his lone duffle bag onto his shoulder, and gripped his guitar case tightly. He could do this.
Squinting through the downpour and tossing his hair out of his eyes, he tried to get his bearings. He was supposed to be meeting someone in a Waffle House to collect the keys for the cheap and dingy bedsit he’d seen advertised online, that definitely wasn’t haunted (the irony of Phantom moving in wasn’t lost on him). He spotted the glowing lights a block down and across the road, and stepped out into the street.
When Phantom regained consciousness, he couldn’t help but wonder if he’d gone and died already. That would be just his luck, on his first day of his new life. Although if he was dead, he wasn’t sure why he was met by a golden haired angel staring down at him. He was quite sure the door to that afterlife closed to him long ago.
Taking stock of the rest of his senses, he tried to make sense of where he was now. Still cold, still wet, and now also sore. On the ground. That felt more like what he should expect from the check-in desk in purgatory. His ears were ringing, the whoosh of static simultaneously deafening and silent.
The Angel had a panicked look on their face, slowly dissolving into one of anguish. Tears on their elegant cheekbones now mixing with the rain still falling. Raining, still? Phantom thought to himself. He guessed there were worse eternal punishments than a perpetual downpour though.
The static in his ears grew louder, and he started to pick out the sounds of someone crying out for help. The… Angel? … screaming? That seemed wrong. So did the way their golden halo of hair was staring to stick to their face in limp, wet clumps. Their voice sounded coarse, rasping, nothing like the pealing bells of a heavenly choir, unless said choir was in the habit of chain-smoking.
And the plaid. Phantom was pretty sure no angel wore flannel, in any century.
His brain gradually coming back online, Phantom began to suspect he was still alive after all. In fact, he had the distinct impression that he was both alive, and barely a foot away from where he had been walking before. Although he was horizontal now, prostrate on the wet asphalt in the shadow of a beat-up sedan.
Phantom was jolted out of his thoughts by the Possibly-Not-Angel, their sodden hair whipping around their face as they turned to yell towards the car, the source of the rumbling still echoing in his head.
“Rain!”
No shit. Thought Phantom. He was still coming to terms with not being dead, but even he could tell it was still pouring.
A second face loomed over Phantom. This one he was sure wasn’t an angel, despite their beauty and the intensity of the stare in their unblinking blue eyes. Angels didn’t wear beanies.
“What do we do Rain? Is he dead?”
“No, look at his eyes, he’s waking up.”
Phantom blinked up at the increasingly bedraggled pair, and tried to move his limbs. He was bruised, but pretty sure nothing was broken. The second voice spoke again, the sound smooth and melodic like a flowing river.
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you until you were right in front of us. Are you alright?”
Despite how level their voice was, it was clear from the rapid rise and fall of their chest they were no less distraught than their now clearly human counterpart.
“Hi?” croaked Phantom, making to sit up. Two pairs of hands reached out immediately to support him, as he slowly pulled himself into a sitting position. Now he was feeling more lucid, he realised the pooled rain on the ground had seeped uncomfortably through his jeans, and he was colder than ever. Phantom clutched at the hand offered in front of him, the warmth making him gasp, before grasping it tighter as his frigid fingers absorbed the heat and he felt sensation returning to them. Cooler hands supported him from behind as he staggered shakily to his feet.
“C’mon, let’s get you out of the road”, the warm-handed stranger gently started steering him towards the kerb. The other bent down to grab Phantom’s bag and guitar, and together they herded him out of the road and into the relative shelter of the bus stop.
“Where are you hurt? Should we take you to the ER?”
“I- I’m alright I think.” Phantom smiled weakly, siting down on the bench and trying not to wince at the feel of the bruises forming across his side. Luckily ghouls healed quickly, he was sure he would be fine again after a day or so.
“Can we give you a lift somewhere?” asked the taller of the pair, gesturing towards the car still idling at the roadside with the doors flung open.
“I don’t really have anywhere to go yet, I’m new here. I just got off the bus.” Phantom waved a hand in the direction of the Waffle House in the distance “I’m supposed to be meeting someone to get an apartment key”.
“You have friends here?”
Phantom shook his head, looking up nervously through his eyelashes. “Looking for a fresh start.”
“Oh! Rain was in your position a few years ago!” interjects the other, “I’m Dewdrop.” He shook the hand Phantom was still gripping like a lifeline in a facsimile of a handshake. “I preach at the chapel out the west side of town. If you’re looking to get to know people here I promise we’re very welcoming.”
As he speaks, Phantom spots the upside down cross hanging from a rosary around Dewdrop’s neck and smiles shyly at him “I’d like that.”
Juggling Phantom’s bag and guitar to extend a hand to him, while snaking an arm around Dewdrop’s waist, the taller stranger still standing over Phantom waits for him to drop Dewdrop’s hand before introducing themself.
“Rain. Dew’s husband. I hope you settle in well, there’s a strong community here, particularly through the church.” He offers with a carefully measured smile back at Phantom. “You're sure you’ll be okay?”
“Yeah, I’ll be fine.” Phantom could already feel the acute sting of his injuries dissipating. He hoists himself back to his feet, and reached to take his guitar and duffle bag from Rain. He sent a silent prayer below that he had worn his bag on his left shoulder; both he and his guitar had somehow escaped mostly unscathed.
“Will we see you on Sunday?” asked Dewdrop, as he and Rain began heading back to their car.
“I’ll be there” Phantom nodded, Dewdrop’s answering grin making him more sure of this than any other decision he’d made in his move here so far.
“See you there then.” Just before getting into the vehicle, Dew leaned over to gently tap Phantom on the horns, which must have fallen unglamoured while he was unconscious. He smirked up at Phantom, with a conspiratorial look on his face.
“Might want to put these away in the meantime though.”
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cynthiav06 · 1 year
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What makes Klayley different from other series ships for you?
I am assuming you mean other ships in the orignals by that.
It's the really simple case that's not simple at all. It's the underlying passion between them that just won't go away no matter who they take as a lover. The burning anger, loathing, care, loyalty, and the inexplicably undying connection that keeps them tethered to each other always and forever, come hell or highwater.
Mikael almost killed me and the baby, but i can't help but be more worried about how Klaus suffered all these years, I need to comfort him.
The witches are murdering me and the baby. Forget Elijah , I need Klaus here.
The witches stole baby hope? Not important right now, Hayley's dead, and I need a moment or several to take it all in.
I don't really love Jackson, but Klaus needs me to marry him, so I will.
I have to deal with my newly risen from dead mother and father, but whether Hayley's new husband is treating her right or not is more important.
Hayley tried to run from me, and I am extremely furious, but I can't bear to kill her or physically hurt her.
I will hate Klaus forever, but I can't really hate him at all.
My siblings are in trouble and may need my immediate help, but the road trip with Hayley is the best fun I have had in centuries, and I love it too much to stop now.
I am the strongest and the proudest being on earth. I kneel to no one, especially not to scum like Lucien, but he has Hayley, and I would never let her die. She means too much to me. I have to kneel to save her, no problem, I will do it a thousand times if it's to save her.
I love my Pack a lot, but the Mikaelsons are dying, Klaus is dying, so my pack can go to hell. I will save him and the Mikaelsons even if I die .
I have to let go of my dignity as a wolf and kill, lie, massacre all to save Klaus and Mikaelson family. And I used to have a problem with that, but it's for Klaus, I can't watch him suffer, so i will do it gladly.
Klaus is going around the world, massacring everything in sight and trying to cut contact, but I will never give up on him.
Being in New Orleans near hope will bring forth Apocalyspe that might kill hope, but Hayley's missing, so all else be damned.
I am being killed, and Klaus is being attacked by Elijah. He's hurt, Hope's hurt, so I am going to kill Greta and sacrifice myself for them because Klaus and Hope are my family Elijah be damned.
My daughter is dying and meets me in the afterlife, but the second I hear Klaus's voice, I know all will be alright.
My brother, my companion, my only confidant who I would go insane without is dead to me for good because he killed Hayley, and there's no greater offense than that.
I am in hell. My heart feels empty. Hayley is dead. I can sacrifice Elijah to save hope and kill the hollow, but I vowed to Hayley that I would do anything to save our daughter so I will sacrifice myself. [Also because I can't live without my little wolf]
So yeah, it's you know, soul shattering stuff like this that keeps me hooked to Klayley. Nothing huge. This and all the other essays I wrote should be plenty enough evidence as to why. (Sorry for the late)
And here's the thing anyone who watched the Orignals and isn't blind should be shipping them intensely, too.
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deadbutbetter · 8 months
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Rural America, telephone poles, a pack of Camel cigarettes on the dashboard — a couple stopping for a rest (or in rut). This is the road trip, time on your hands, getting away, a big American car, but also the weather is coming in, a dream of Oz and the deluge in one image. The scenery Eggleston depicts isn’t backdrop. It’s alive. As a former long-distance truck driver who has seen a half-million miles of scenery, I came to view passing postcard landscapes as a series of repeated deaths. Driving was seeing without thinking, looking as a mindless present. Passive, a kind of narcotic. Eggleston’s “scenery” clutches you in its talons. Spirits seem to fill the air of this America. [...] We see the same psychic affliction, internal perditions, segregation, and heartlessness, everyone on their own, each for their own group, against the world. We see people seething with impotent rigidity. This soul leprosy makes “The Outlands” an eyewitness account of a country that somehow survived its own death, that is already in the antechamber of its own afterlife.
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“Oh love, don’t worry you don’t need him, I’m all you’ll ever need. In this life, the next & even in the afterlife.” (YANDERE)
TXT Taehyun Oneshot
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Summary: You & your fiancé decided to go look for houses to buy & your fiancé stumbled upon a gorgeous house that was a little away from the busy city. You both decided to take a little road trip to go check it out but due to unfortunate circumstances, you would have to stay there for a while. But during this time you learned something very disturbing about the owner.
Word Count: 1230
TW: Mentions of abuse, blood, death, yandere behavior, & obsessive behavior
Disclaimer: This is all purely for entertainment purposes. I don't promote or support any Yandere behaviors
MASTERLIST
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You & your fiancé, Yeonjun had just gotten engaged a few months ago. You were planning on getting married next year after you got everything settled. So, you both were looking for a house right now & a few days ago when Yoenjun came back from work he said he had seen a beautiful house. It was old but had a lot of potential. & he assured you that once you were all done with all the repairs & redecoration it would be your dream home. Plus it was a great deal. So you both were packing so you could go down & check it out before you put in an offer.
When you reached the place, you could tell that the house was really old, & you couldn’t help but wonder why the owner wanted to sell it cause it looked like it had a lot of value to it. At least six times the price that was offered, minimum.
You both made your way in through the gate & were checking out the back of the house, where the garden was when it started raining heavily. So Yeonjun gave you his jacket & knocked on the door to get away from the rain. Yeonjun went to knock on the door but found it was open, so you went inside. You were met with someone sitting with their back towards you facing the fireplace. “& who might you be,” a cold voice asked. It sent shivers down your spine but you ignored it. “We’re the Chois, I talked to you over the phone about buying this house,” Yoenjun said. That’s when the man turned towards you, he observed every detail of your face, staring at you for a while. His face seemed very familiar to you but you swore you had never seen him before. “Ah yes,” I remember he said still not taking his eyes off you. His stare was slightly creeping you out so you held Yeonjun’s hand thighter. The stranger's gaze fell towards your intertwined hands & you could have sworn you saw a flame in them but they were so quick to go that Yeonjun didn’t even notice them.
After a quick tour around the house, Yeonjun fell in love with it & you liked it as well. But you the whole time you were here you had been having a severe case of déjà vu. Like you’ve been here before & seen this guy before, but no matter how hard you tried to remember you couldn’t & it was creeping you out.
“Well how did you like it” the owner asked his eyes looking directly into yours, still keeping a cold poker face. “Um it’s lovely” you replied looking away since the eye contact was making you uncomfortable. “Since it’s still raining with no sign of stopping time soon, I suggest you spend the night here, it’s much too dangerous to go back,” he said. You did not want to stay in this house with this man. He was creepy. But before you could object Yeonjun jumped in & agreed smiling. “Very well then,” he said “I’ll ask the butler to arrange two rooms for you” “Two?” you asked. “Yes,” he replied “I don’t think we’ll need two rooms, Yeonjun & I can just sleep together,” you said. You didn’t feel safe sleeping alone in this house so you wanted your fiancé beside you. “Certainly not,” he said sternly “Why not?” you asked slightly annoyed. “Cause that wouldn’t be acceptable” “Sweetheart, it’s fine, let’s not make him mad” Yeonjun whispered to you. “If you're done, we can head done for dinner now,” he said walking down the stairs.
Dinner was awkward, you didn’t dare start a conversation with him so to get rid of the uncomfortable silence Yeonjun started a conversation. “You know come to think of it we never got a chance to properly introduce ourselves,” he said laughing slightly. “I’m Choi Yeonjun & this is my beautiful fiancé Y/N,” he said smiling. “Kang Taehyun” he said.
You’ve heard that name before. This whole sense of déjà vu had been lasting you the whole day & it was starting to drive you crazy. You knew you’d never been here or ever had any interactions with this man before but then why did it all seem so familiar?
Pushing your thoughts away you went up to the room that was instructed by Taehyun & Yeonjun went to his which was all the way down the hall. You got into bed & the moment your head hit the pillow you slowly started to drift to sleep.
Suddenly around midnight you heard a scream & jolted awake. It was Yeonjun. Your heart started beating fast & you threw the covers off you & rushed to his room. You found him on the floor, with Taehyun above him with a knife that was dripping in blood. He had stabbed him in the stomach.
Your eyes went wide in shock. You started at Taehyun, who looked nothing like he did before. He had a psychotic look in his eye & a wide smile. “Hi love, nice of you to join us,” he said smiling towards you. “W-wh-why are you do-doing this?” you stammered, hands shaking & tears flowing down your cheeks. “BECAUSE OF YOU!” he screamed “Wh-what,” you asked. “Don’t you remember Y/N? You’re my wife” he said “I don’t know what you're talking about” “Yes you do,” he replied, his grip around Yeonjun’s neck getting tighter, “We’ve been married for 107 years Y/N” he said “That was until you thought you could get away from me & killed your self” he said glaring at you.
You were speechless. It all made sense now, why you felt this place was so familiar. Cause it was. You can remember everything now. How he killed all your family members. Brought you to this unknown place. Hide you away from civilization. Forced you to marry him. Abused you physically & mentally if you refused to do anything he asked. No matter how many times you had died before he had always managed to find you. This time was different it took him too long to find you. & when he did find you & saw that someone had taken you away, something that belonged to him, he couldn't let that happen. So here he was, getting rid of the problem. Yeonjun. It was because of him it took so long to find you. So many miserable lonely years he spent without you in his arms, all while someone else had you in their filthy arms. He couldn’t take it anymore. He just had to have you.
“Listen Taehyun,” you said, tears still coming from your eyes, “if you let Yeonjun go, I promise I’ll stay with you here for as long as you want” “Really” he asked with a wide smile that gave you goosebumps. “Yes,” you said trembling. “& you won’t ever leave me for this worthless piece of trash?” he asked “Never” you replied. “Very good then,” he said smiling, You smiled back at him. But then in a swift motion, he sliced his neck & Yeonjun’s lifeless body dropped done. You screamed & started sobbing. “Oh love, don’t worry you don’t need him, I’m all you’ll ever need. In this life, the next & even in the afterlife.”
. • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .
This took me so long to write😭but hope you enjoyed reading🖤
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