#writing this was kind of a relief in a way

[nottswitch]

— 𝐞𝐱𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐥.

summary: could you be the devil, could you be an angel?

pairing: alien!theo x reader

warning: aliens, hypnosis, fainting, making out, sort of dub-con (reader’s hypnotized)

wc: 1k

a/n: the new thing that’s been plaguing my mind for a couple of days now is this alien au. this is just a little thing to introduce the concept to the public and see what people think. i’ll be very glad to talk more about it and, in the future, write. e.t. by katy perry is the alien!theo anthem btw.

۶ৎ navigation ; masterlist ; theo m-list ; how to request

Theo is different. You know it, everyone knows it.

His presence in the room is immediately known, but only when he wants it to be. Theo comes in – all eyes are on him. Or not. It depends. His eyes, however, are on you. Always on you.

The fluorescent light simmers quietly above your head, letting neon purple envelop the space around you. You feel him staring into your back, and you swear you could feel a hole being burned into your flesh. It’s scorching hot yet icy cold at the same time. You’re afraid to turn around; everyone knows how charming Theodore Nott is, how he always seems to get what he wants from anyone, and no one minds. You made a vow to yourself to never fall for his charms, to be different, to prove something to yourself, to others and possibly to Theo himself.

You never look into his eyes.

You can’t hear him approach. He���s quiet when he wants to be, which is pretty much all the time. It’s always the same thing: you flinch, suddenly feeling his breath on your neck – his chilly breath that sends shivers all over your body, his presence heightening your senses to an unspeakable degree. You hopelessly look around, but there isn’t a lot of people in the bathroom, and those who are are busy with their own thing – it’s one of those times Theo wants to be discreet, and of course, he gets exactly what he wants.

"Dolcezza."

His voice is a deep murmur, and you never know what he’s saying, but your mind almost shuts off nonetheless. But only almost. You stubbornly stare into the window, trying to burn your own hole into the dark starry sky outside.

Theo stays silent for several excruciating seconds. His hand hovers next to your shoulder, but he doesn’t touch you – he never does. You try your absolute hardest not to lean into the touch and embarrass yourself. His hand being just a couple of centimeters away from your skin makes you fell tingles everywhere, even in a place that isn’t supposed to have this kind of reaction to a simple hand – and still, no touching.

"Look at me, pretty one," Theo murmurs into your ear, and it takes every single bit of your resolve not to do exactly that. You don’t know how you’re still holding up, to be honest – you’re sure you’ve never wanted anything more in your life than to look at him right this second.

Theo sighs, becoming a witness of your resistance once again. His hands moves down, along the outline of your arm, still without any physical contact, and you feel the tingle intensifying. You have to clench your muscles to stop your body from twitching, and your jaw, for some reason – your whole body protests and craves for his touch at the same time. It’s torture.

Theo notices the way your jaw tenses up and quietly chuckles. He leans in, and his breath is now on your face, that same chilly breeze with a hint of mint and citrus in there – is it gum? Stupid question, you think, even though you don’t say it out loud.

"You’re so stubborn," he purrs again, his lips almost, almost brushing against your cheek. You wince, because it’s really not helping the situation – but it’s probably his goal. Your determination to win gets stronger, as strong as your desire to finally lose.

You let out an audible sigh of relief when you hear footsteps of a person moving further and further away, until the door to the bathroom creaks open and, a second later, claps shut. You did it once again. You’re good.

The last couple of people left the bathroom, but you’re still there, half an hour later. You have a suspicion that Theo is still there, at the party and probably planning to ambush you. Maybe it’s just your sudden paranoia talking, but you decide to wait him out anyway. When you glance at the screen of your phone, you notice it’s two minutes to midnight. Time to move – you’re getting tired anyway.

Before leaving, you decide to splash your face with cold water – Theo is still lingering on your cheek, as much as you hate to admit that. You turn the tap handle all the way to the right, letting the water hit the porcelain surface of the sink and feeling water drops land on the back your hands. A moment later your face feels less flushed as you bend over and press your dripping palms against your cheeks and eyes.

A squeal echoes through the empty bathroom when you straighten up and see an unexpected figure behind you in the mirror. You should’ve expected it, though. His eyes. You should’ve expected… His eyes. His eyes. You should’ve…

"Shh, dolcezza, it’s fine. I’m here. You’re safe."

Theo’s voice brings you out of the darkness that has been surrounding your mind for the last… minute? Hour? You don’t know. You blink and look up at him.

His eyes. His beautiful, striking blue eyes that are studying your face with such intensity and tenderness at the same time. You lips curl into a silly, lovesick smile. His fascinating eyes…

"You’re safe," he repeats, bringing his face closer to yours. The scent of mint and citrus hits your nostrils, and you can’t help taking a deep breath in, savoring each molecule of his air that comes through your airways. You lift yourself up on your tiptoes, softly connecting your lips together. You’ve done it before. It feels familiar. It feel like home.

Theo smiles against your lips, and you feel his hand cupping your jaw, pressing his fingers into your skin and bones. He’s strong. The thought makes you moan into his mouth, and he eagerly swallows the prettiest sound he’s ever heard in his life. His other hand finds your waist, pulling your body flush against his. You’re his missing puzzle piece. He finally has the full picture.

The fluorescent light simmers quietly above your head, the faint noise mixing with the sounds of your sloppy kisses and your needy moans. Theo’s eyes light up ever so slightly when he pulls away and looks into your hazy, glassy ones. You stare back, the same lovesick smile making its way back onto your face. He looks otherworldly.

reblogs and comments will be appreciated ♡

[allmoshnobrain]

𝖔𝖋 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖍𝖚𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖌

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

dean winchester x hunter!reader | word count: 1,7k | requests are open! send yours here

“Sam died, sweetheart,” he whispered, and your heart clenched at his words. Why did he have to call you that right now? “And I made a deal to bring him back. I had to.” “This isn’t funny,” you said, your voice trembling. “Dean, you can’t be serious.” “I’m serious,” he replied, his tone firm. “I wouldn’t lie. Not about this.”

✦ on this fic: dean winchester x reader, fem!reader but this part is pretty neutral, angst, s3 spn plot

✦ a/n: this is my first time writing a reader insert for the supernatural universe. this is super angsty, and other parts to this au may come in the future so feel free to shoot me an ask if you have any suggestions! hope u enjoy the read 🖤

Word travels fast in a hunter’s world.

In a job where information is everything, sharing what you know wasn’t just helpful, but also expected. So, when the Devil’s Gate opened and demons started pouring out everywhere, it didn’t take long before you heard about it. It didn’t come as a surprise when you heard Sam and Dean Winchester had been there when it happened, right in the middle of it. You knew the boys; you knew they had a knack for getting mixed up in every kind of mess that popped up, ever.

What did surprise you, though, was Dean showing up on your doorstep less than a month later.

You knew something was off the second you saw him. First, because he was alone, and honestly, you couldn’t remember ever seeing him without Sam around. But mostly, it was the look in his eyes. As soon as you opened the door, he smiled at you, but his eyes didn’t follow — there was a storm brewing in his green irises, one even he didn’t seem to notice.

“Dean,” you said, frowning as he stood in your doorway. “How did you…”

“Bobby told me,” he cut you off, like it was no big deal, not even waiting for you to finish asking how the hell did he know where you lived. Of course, Bobby had. You sighed — would’ve been nice if Bobby gave you a heads-up, but whatever. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah, but… what’s going on?” you asked, stepping aside to let him into your little cabin. It wasn’t much — pretty small, tucked away from the town, and didn’t look like anything special from the outside. Inside, though, was another story. Your eyes flicked up to the devil’s trap right above the door, and you felt a wave of relief when Dean walked right under it. Okay, not possessed. That’s a start.

“Can’t I just pay a visit to an old friend?” he asked, and you raised an eyebrow. Sure, you’d crossed paths with Dean more than a few times — occupational hazard of being a hunter — but something about this felt off. It wasn’t like him to just show up without a reason, especially with everything that had gone down in the past few weeks.

“Dean, what’s wrong?” you pressed, not letting him off the hook. His smile faltered, quickly replaced by that familiar annoyed look he got when he didn’t want to talk about whatever was actually on his mind.

“Why does something have to be wrong?”

You rolled your eyes. “Because you never just drop by for no reason. Where’s Sam?”

“Not here,” he muttered, and you couldn’t help but scoff. “Look, I’m fine. Everything's fine.  Bobby just figured you’d wanna know what went down with the Colt and yellow-eyes…”

“I’ve got a phone,” you cut in, crossing your arms. 

Dean sighed, his usual swagger faltering for a second as he cleared his throat, almost like he was nervous. “And… maybe he also thought I could use some time away from hunting, just for a bit, you know? With someone I… I liked being around.”

He couldn’t even look at you when he said it, a slight blush creeping up his neck. It wasn’t the Dean you were used to seeing, and that made your heart skip in a way you weren’t entirely prepared for.

You blinked in surprise. Dean, shy? Around you, of all people? That was rare. You’d seen him flirt before — hell, he was good at it and he knew it. This wasn’t the Dean you were used to, but then again, he wasn’t exactly acting like his usual self today.

“You’re not a shapeshifter, are you?” you asked, slowly. He huffed.

“No, I’m not.”

“Mind if I check?” You grabbed the knife you always kept strapped to your thigh. Dean just shrugged, holding his hand out. You took it, his skin warm under your fingers, and pressed the iron blade against it until it drew blood. No reaction, a small twitch in his arm muscles the only sign he’d felt anything. 

“See?” he said, his voice a little rough. “Not a shapeshifter, not a demon, just good ol’ me.”

Alright then. As weird as it was, it looked like Dean Winchester had really shown up at your place just to… hang out? You glanced up at him, wiping your knife off on your jeans before sliding it back into its sheath.

“Sorry about that,” you muttered. “Come on, let me patch you up.”

“So,” Dean asked, raising an eyebrow as you finished wrapping the bandage around his hand. “What’ve you been up to? Working any cases?”

“Why do you wanna know? Weren’t you supposed to be taking a break from hunting for a few days?” you shot back, and he chuckled. You glanced up at him. “You know I don’t hunt as much as you guys. I mostly just keep an eye on this area. But it’s been pretty quiet lately.”

“Yeah, well, you take care of yourself, alright? Lots of demons running around lately,” he said. “If you ever need backup, just call me.”

“Thanks,” you replied quietly. “I haven’t been up to much other than keeping an eye on things. Honestly, I was worried about you guys. Heard you were at the Devil’s Gate when everything went down.”

“We were trying to stop it,” Dean said, and you nodded.

“I figured as much. But…” You hesitated. “That’s not exactly what everyone’s saying.”

“What do you mean?” he asked, frowning a bit as he flexed his hand, checking how well he could move it with your bandages. “Who’s everyone?”

“The other hunters,” you said. “They’re saying Sam… and you… you guys made the whole thing happen.”

Dean scoffed, rolling his eyes and running a hand through his hair in frustration.

“And did you believe that bullshit?”

“I didn’t! Just… Please be careful out there, alright? Not all hunters are as friendly right now.” He looked at you for a moment, then let out a sigh and nodded. You hesitated. “Do you, uh, wanna hit up a bar or something? I mean, I’m not exactly living the most exciting life out here…”

“You got a TV and some beers?” he asked, catching you off guard. You blinked a few times before nodding. “Sweet. That’s all I need today. We could watch a movie or something, maybe order in.”

“I can cook,” you chimed in. “I’ve got a wood-burning oven outside... we could make homemade pizza.”

The way he looked at you, it was like you’d just revealed you had the keys to Heaven itself.

You finally figured out what was up much later in the night, while you and Dean were sprawled out in your queen bed.

At first, he had tried to be a gentleman and insisted on crashing on the couch, but you wouldn’t have it — the bed was more than big enough for both of you. No point in him getting a stiff neck just because he wanted to play nice. Sure, you were practical, but you also just wanted him to be comfortable. You could sense something was off with him, even if he kept saying he was fine.

So there you were, cozy and ready to sleep, lights out and moonlight streaming through the curtains, lying on your side and facing the wall as you listened to his deep breathing. You were almost drifting off yourself when he said it.

“I made a deal.”

You opened your eyes right away, twisting in bed to find his face just inches from yours. Your heart raced at the vulnerability in his gaze — the angst he’d tried to keep hidden was now clear as day. It made your heart sink and your breath hitch a little.

“What?” you asked, concern creeping into your voice. Dean closed his eyes for a second, letting out a small sigh.

“Sam died, sweetheart,” he whispered, and your heart clenched at his words. Why did he have to call you that right now? “And I made a deal to bring him back. I had to.”

“This isn’t funny,” you said, your voice trembling. “Dean, you can’t be serious.”

“I’m serious,” he replied, his tone firm. “I wouldn’t lie. Not about this.”

You didn’t answer, just buried your face in your hands, struggling to catch your breath as tears started to well up in your eyes. The reaction shocked you — why did you care about him so much? How could you be terrified of losing him when you were just… what? Occasional hunting partners? Friends?

But he was right there with you, wasn’t he?

Was this why he had come to you?

“I wanted to tell you myself,” he said softly, as if he could read your mind. “I… I wanted to see you. One last time, at least.”

One last time. His words bounced around in your head, and you lowered your hands to face him, confusion scrunching your brow. That didn’t make sense. Demons usually gave you ten years after a deal, so why…?

“Dean,” you said slowly. “How long… how long did they give you?”

“A year,” he whispered, so quietly you almost missed it. “They gave me a year.”

“No,” you said, covering your mouth with one hand as the sobs started to spill out. “Oh, no, Dean, no, no, no…”

He pulled you close, wrapping you tight against his chest as you cried, your arms instinctively clinging to him. Incoherent words tumbled out — trying to apologize for crying, for feeling like a hole had been carved out of your chest. It didn’t feel right — you weren’t the one who was supposed to be feeling this way.

Because you weren’t the one dying.

You cried yourself to sleep in his arms that night. As your sobs faded into tired breaths and your eyes finally closed, Dean felt a sharp ache in his chest while watching your swollen eyes and damp cheeks.

He couldn’t deal with the whirlwind of feelings churning inside him right now. He couldn’t face the regret, the fear, not even that nameless feeling he had for you — because he was too scared to name it, to even acknowledge it was real. All he knew was that he had lied; Bobby hadn’t sent him to you. Things weren’t fine, no matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise.

He had come to you of his own choice.

Because when his world was crumbling, he knew you were the only one who could help him pick up the pieces.

Even when everything felt hopeless.

Even when he felt completely lost.

[bitchface24-7]

A small idea that popped into my brain 💡

This is totally random but I would love to read a Jason Todd fic a la John Wick style. Everything is still the same (relatively)

Jason is adopted by Bruce the same way (stealing the batmobile tires)

Jason becomes Robin

He’s great at it! He’s happy, kind, and a great relief to see for the citizens of Gotham

He and Dick eventually get around to having a lukewarm brotherly relationship

He still gets murdered by the Joker and somehow miraculously wakes up 6 months later in his grave (somehow. That’s up to you)

Here’s where it differs: More below ⬇️

The League of Assassin’s still picks him up and Talia trains him, eventually becoming like a mom to him

and he is a brother to Damian

Jason subsequently gets sent on missions, The Continental Hotels are run by the LoA

Due to his extensive training with both Bruce and Talia, Jason is quite a formidable enemy; even more so since the Pit fixed his years of malnutrition

He’s efficient. So efficient that he’s made quite the reputation.

Like in the first John Wick film (all the films tbh), the antagonist goes to his son,

“I don’t care about what you did, son. I care about who you did it to.”

“Who? That fuckin’ nobody?”

“That. Fuckin. Nobody. Is John Wick Jason al Ghul.”

The “Pit Madness” is barely there, only flaring up when Jason is under extreme duress (such as rage or heavy fear)

Due to this reputation, Jason has no trouble overtaking the crime syndicates in Gotham. We saw how effective he was in UtRH (I did this in two hours. Wanna see what I can do in a whole evening?) imagine him now a la John Wick. Unstoppable.

He went back to Gotham both to kill the Joker but to make sure Damian was okay

Jason holds resentment towards the rest of his family (excluding Alfred) to him, his death was meaningless. Jokers still alive hurting people, there’s a new Robin.

The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different outcome. Jason is going to change that.

Jason doesn’t attack Tim. He’s just a kid, a teenager. His anger is more directed towards Bruce (“You’re not my son. I don’t need your teenage rebellion.” and the fact it seems he so easily replaced him.), Dick (why does Tim get to be Dick’s brother but not Jason? What’s so bad about him?) and even Barbara when she resented him for replacing Dick as Robin. Misdirecting her anger into a kid rather than Bruce.

Damian is proud to call Jason his brother and only addresses him with the al Ghul surname. Not Todd. Not Wayne. Not Todd-Wayne. al Ghul. Jason is an al Ghul down to his bone marrow, he gets affectionately called Ahki (brother)

This makes the rest of the fam stir crazy. Who is he? Is he Bruce’s kid? What’s his goal, his plan? Why’s he in Gotham now?

Dun Dun DUNNNNN There’s an identity reveal

Idk what else to add but I’d DIE to have a fic with this concept. I love Jason so much. Especially all the Jason and Damian meet in the League fics on AO3.

If anyone wants to write this, tag me!!! Please! My AO3 handle is queenie__v. Just give me credit for the premise and I’ll devour the fic you write like it’s ambrosia from the gods. Ps. Please give Jason the white patch in his hair, thanks ❤️

Xoxo love y’all!

[hyperfixationsporfavor]

The Secret Garden (Sukuna x Reader)

Author's Note: Hey guys. In honor of the final chapter being released I'm sharing this fic I wrote awhile ago. It's just taken me a bit to edit. I hope to keep writing jjk fics even if the series is over. Thoughts and feeling are always appreciated. Enjoy!

Warnings: character death, implied character death, jjk manga spoilers, true form sukuna

“I am a curse.”

“I am an unwanted child.”

Unwanted?

~

Sukuna watched from a distance as you tended to your garden, something you had cultivated during your time in his temple. Uraume stood dutifully behind him as he continued to observe from the shadows. 

“Perhaps you’d like to join her, my lord?”

“Are you attempting to give me orders Uraume?”

The white haired vassal bowed their head, the faintest smirk on their face hidden from view. “My apologies, my lord. I’d be remiss if I didn’t remind you of your meeting with Lady Tengen. She’s awaiting your presence in the throne room.”

“Tell her I’ll be there in a moment…and wipe that damn look off your face.”

They bowed again and promptly dismissed themself. 

Sukuna turned his attention back to the garden to find you hovering over a small shrub. He ventured towards you with a budding curiosity. 

It really was magnificent what you were able to accomplish in the year that you had started this project. 

The once desolate space of dead branches and unkempt dirt had been transformed into a collection of flowers, herbs, and vegetables all surrounding a small pond. It was vibrant and inviting, rejuvenated by the care you gave it. 

Sukuna closed the gap between you and you turned around with a start. With a hand on your chest you exhaled in relief. 

“You gave me a fright,” you sighed. “I thought you were supposed to be meeting with your former teacher today.”

Sukuna crossed both sets of his arms. “She’ll wait.”

This was unfamiliar to the proclaimed King of Curses. Having interests in what lowly non sorcerers like you did. And yet here he was drawn to you, your warm presence and kind smile.

“What are you doing?” he asked. “ You don’t usually come out here this time of day.”

You smiled at him, causing a feeling to pool through his chest.

“I didn’t realize you kept such a close eye on me, Lord Sukuna.”

Before he could scold you for your cheekiness you gestured back to your shrub. 

“It seems we have a visitor.”

A small slug had latched itself onto a singular leaf. Sukuna wrinkled his nose. “Have Uraume get some salt. That should kill it.”

You shook your head. 

Instead, you plucked the leaf off the shrub and walked towards a bush in the corner of the garden, the master of the temple trailing after you. The leaves had withered into a dull brown. You gently transferred the slug onto one of the dying leaves. The creature slithered around its new home. 

“Why not just kill it?” he asked.

You turned your attention back to Sukuna. “Because it has a place here.”

“To do what? Destroy what you’ve cultivated? Why would you allow such a pathetic little thing to do that?”

You chuckled. “I appreciate your concern, my lord. But without this slug the dead leaves would remain and the other creatures would be without a meal when they visited.”

Sukuna ran his hand through his hair. “A lot of care for something as weak as a fly head.”

You paused for a moment.

“Then, why allow me here Lord Sukuna?” you asked.

Sukuna remained silent so you continued your line of questioning. “Surely in your eyes I am no different from a garden slug, weak and superfluous. So why allow me to remain?”

Sukuna glared at you with a stern expression that began to make you worry. You had grown more comfortable with him during your stay at the temple. But had you crossed a line?

“Would you compare a rose to a weed?”

The feeling that had coursed through Sukuna began to make its way through your chest as you realized what he thought of you. 

Before you could say anything a voice rang out through the courtyard. 

“Ryomen, I don’t have all day.”

Sukuna turned to face Tengen, his former teacher unchanged from their first meeting in his youth. 

“Come,” she gestured. “We have pressing matters to discuss.”

He looked back to find you gone. 

~

Damn you Yuji Itadori.

He knew his stay in this strange new world would be short, mirroring his swift departure from his time. It was inevitable. He had always been reckless, forever indulgent to his desires for adrenaline and bloodlust. And yet, despite that, he felt anger. His new state as a small lumpish creature was almost as humiliating as how he was defeated. 

That girl, the one his former host had called Nobara. He had been bested by those brats. 

The King of Curses had fallen. 

His rage only increased as the young boy picked him up and held him in his palm.

That brat and his damn pity. He loathed how he cradled him delicately with care. The understanding expression on his face was enough to make him see white as he began to burn away. 

I am a curse.

The image of a rose in a garden remained as Yuji’s voice became distant. 

He had been banished to the afterlife by the world of the living. 

I am an unwanted child. 

A hand reached out from the darkness from behind Sukuna and pulled him back. Then another one. And another. Soon a cluster of rotting limbs began to drag him further and further away from the rose. A light began to break through the darkness above him, blinding the dethroned king. 

When his vision cleared he saw you, standing before him in heavenly white robes with a sorrowful look on your face. 

You reached out and held his face in your hands. 

He was in awe. 

Yes. 

Yes. 

He remembered how you held him. Your compassion. No matter how hard he tried to abandon his human heart you had found a way to remind him of how painfully mortal he was and would always be. 

He loathed you, because he loved you.

You were wanted. 

The hands were persistent and he began to fall, the light engulfing you as you were whisked away to a place where demons like him were forbidden. 

The dethroned king welcomed the flames of hell that embraced him. 

He let out a final sigh as he became nothing. 

The curse that never was and a human no more. 

~

The End. 

[midnight-bay-if]

Hello! Love the story so far! I can't wait for the next chapter and that your writing is going smoothly! I was wondering if MC got possessed or was being controlled and was attacking the RO's and trying to kill them, how would the RO's respond?

(Thank you so much! Sorry, this took so long to get to! As for the writing, well... it's getting there, haha.)

S: The first hint that something isn't quite right with you is your change in posture and your breathing changing. Suddenly, everything about your stature appears heavier and a little limp. Almost as if strings are propping you up like a puppet.

"MC?" They coax, reaching out a single hand whilst their other reaches for the stun gun they keep strapped to their hip. "Can you hear me?"

The moment you lash out, they are ready. Instincts take over. You swipe at their face, and they deflect the attack with the arm they used to reach out to you, whilst the other is ready with the stun gun firmly in their grasp. The moment the gun is pressed against your neck, they hesitate. This is MC. This could hurt you. These guns are made for dangerous creatures, not you.

"Damn it all."

They drop the gun, all while dodging each swipe of your clawed hands, then use their other hand to begin restraining you. "Taj, give me a hand," they cry out, wrestling you down to the ground with as much kindness as they can.

Once you are bound and no longer a danger to yourself or others, S kneels down beside you, a pained expression on their face. "Apologies, my love. But I will find a way to bring you back to yourself. I promise."

Rain: Rain is blindsided by it. One minute, you are happily chatting as you walk side by side; the next, you are clawing and snarling at them like a rabid animal. Your weight presses them into the ground as they desperately try to push you away.

"MC, please! Stop! It's me!"

It doesn't take long for them to realise their words aren't reaching you; your eyes fogged over to nothing.

"Help!" They cry, trying to keep your fingernails from digging into their eyes. "S! Taj!"

They hear the distant thunder of rushed footprints coming ever closer, but Rain feels their strength already waning.

"Please... MC... I-I can't... I don't want to hurt you." Tears spill down their cheeks as they stare into your unrecognisably savage expression, almost resigned to let you tear them limb from limb.

The moment your weight is dragged off their person, Rain sags on the floor with relief, leaving the restraining of you to S and Taj. Once your limbs have been rendered inert, Rain kneels beside you and casually strokes your hair.

"It's okay, MC. It's going to be okay. I'll bring you home."

Taj: It's a dangerous manoeuvre. Taj's instincts are razor sharp, honed over years and years of turmoil and survival. Their body is primed and ready for a threat behind every corner; it's ingrained into them to fight. The moment your words cease, and your breathing alters, they hear it. Their ears twitch, the pupils of their eyes blow wide, and they are already prepared for the first swipe of your arm in their direction.

They catch it, their claws digging into your skin, hissing. "Koel, what fuck has gotten into you?!" Your other hand lashes out towards their face, scratching their cheek before they can spin you around, restraining your arms across your chest. "Enough! This isn't you! I... I know it isn't."

It takes some force, but Taj eventually manages to manhandle you to the floor, with a few new scars to show for it. They grit their teeth, a distraught noise escaping as their eyes mist over. "Whoever the fuck you are," they hiss, glaring straight into your eyes to whoever watches from the other side. "You give them back, you hear? You fuckin' let them go. I don't do second chances."

N: A wisp of wind slithers across their neck, causing the little hairs at the nape to stand on end. It's the only warning they get. You barrel into them with a strength you shouldn't possess, causing them to crash to the floor, your body weight pinning them beneath you.

"Usually, I would be quite taken with this compromising position, my dear," they begin, evading a particularly dangerous swipe to the face. "But the snarling and the spittle is a little off-putting."

Under normal circumstances, they would have no problem restraining you. Whatever has overtaken you has amplified your strength quite exponentially.

"Forgive me for this, my dear."

Then, they force themselves into your mind. For once, they are not gentle. They cannot afford to be. Whatever has possessed, you is battling to control your mind, trying to force them out and sever your connection. It's alarming. Your thoughts used to ebb and flow like a calm wave. Sometimes up, sometimes down, but always easy to follow. Now they crash against their mind like a Kraken, pulling them under as if to try and subdue them.

"Time for lights out, darling. Have a nice sleep. In the meantime, I will exorcise this thing from you if it's the last thing I do. You will be safe. I promise."

Umbra: Their body stiffens, and their already cold limbs turn colder. Sweat beads trickle down from their hairline, causing their every instinct to scream at them. Something is wrong. Something is wrong with MC.

They turn to you. You are still talking, a serene smile on your face. It's wrong. It's all wrong. But why is it wrong? It's you. It's just you. Right?

Wrong.

In a moment, your face contorts from the smile they so readily live for to a disturbing, twisted snarl as you shoot towards them, primed to maim, to hurt, to kill. It's all Umbra can do to block the first swipe for their jugular.

"MC, no! Please! I-It's me! Y-you're scaring me!"

Unable to defend themselves from you (anyone but you), they collapse to the ground with your nails digging deep into their cheek. A line of burning fire claws down, and Umbra cries out. It hurts, but they will bear it. For you.

"Dig deep," they cry out, tears in their eyes. "If this is what you need to come back, then do it. Just come back to me."

[mering]

even the dogs!

[eikichi-supremacy]

hey so do you think wtv keiko had to deal with growing up with yusuke could be considered a type of parentification

[fucktheroyals]

It must be so sickening to JK Rowling that One Piece is beating Harry Potter when Oda is so clearly obsessed with Drag Queens, Trans people, and people who do not fit in the gender binary. Yeah maybe sometimes Oda’s depictions aren’t the most flattering, but that guy is OBSESSED in the opposite way that JK Rowling is. You gotta give it too him.

[victorluvsalice]

For those who were asking if I was ever going to do a multi-chapter Valicer fanfic -- look what lives~ Granted, only the very short prologue of the very first story is up now, but I hope to rectify that very soon. XD Hope you enjoy!

[volfoss]

Actually sorry I need to bitch and moan about this. I've been reading the san.dman (do not ever do this to yourself it's a hell unimaginable by anyone) and like... I really think it's interesting how much ga/iman is praised as super progressive on Tumblr for THIS specifically when it has so so much bad in it. About 10 issues in I started a game with how many women were in the issue who survived/were raped/nearly raped and it was insane how little women did not fit into these categories. One black woman lived and the rest were all burned alive. And he then later gave an excuse that it was bc of how Dream imprisoned Nada (16 year old African queen who fell in love with him. Its a very big mess and really sucks) in Hell so of course it influenced the entire world and so every black woman but ONE (who was introduced in the second to last issue) died and died violently. Not even to get into how it plays into the really violent misogyny that he had during the short story he wrote around the end of San.dman (when he was in his mid 30s) that was literally just one graphic rape scene to a minor after another (his snow white retelling is pretty infamous bc of how bad it is just by the summary but let me tell you that it is FAR worse to read). Like there's so so much that I think people do not discuss with his writing and it honestly just is very baffling that people hype him up given well. Everything that happens in San.dman. like the endless alone has a lot of... Well let's say interesting issues. Every single woman dream comes across wants to fuck him (to the point that at his funeral, it's 90% the women he was with/wanted to be with him and then a little from his siblings????), despairs entire character is literally just that she's depressed and coincidentally the most prominent fat character (and also naked all the time. Which they did seem to fix in the show but it's baffling how it's like her, one serial killer who nearly raped a woman before dream stops him, a guy that dies and I guess Abel if you squint for the fat rep) and then desire oh my god. I wish desire was written well instead of here's our nonbinary/gender fluid/genderless rep (cool in theory!!!) and then the fact that it (in the original series, she uses he she and it pronouns) raped a woman is dropped on your head and he is not at all regretful about it and ends up like.. taunting the victims granddaughter??? And delirium my god if there was ever a representation for born sexy yesterday and also being weird as fuck about mental illness it would be her. She's barely clothed most of the time, referred to as very very young most of the time and her mental illness (vague) is just kind of used as a joke a lot of the time? Like it's a funny joke that she doesn't remember stuff or that she's overstimulated or that she's using the wrong words or talking like a child. It's really weird because all of these characters have potential but they aren't really ever treated that way. Me when I get him for every single woman treated horribly!!!!!

[seiwas]

i personally believe that deku is more likely to have vices than katsuki

[polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup]

jesus fucking christ, i can’t imagine just how much more fucked up Megumi’s life would have been if he had been raised by the zenin from birth or just never remembered tsumiki.

like either they treat him a bit better bc he isn’t affiliated with gojo anymore but then since they r quite literally all he knows, he grows up much douchier.

or he hates them even without tsumiki but this time there isn’t anyone fighting for him on the outside. he stuck at the compound with no one on his side his entire life and has nothing to compare his experiences to but he knows that what’s happening to him isn’t right.

It would have definitely been bad.

I think that kind of narrative would definitely have the room for a much douchier megumi. Like, you're raised in a clan full of the worst people you've ever met who control your every stimuli and experience, and they're all obsessed with you, and they've never had a right opinion ever. It could so easily fuck with someone growing up. megumi could have very easily been very skewed by the Zenin raising him.

I definitely sort of lean towards your second reading of the situation. Like, with some of my stories I go very far afield from canon, but I always personally shy away from douchier readings even when the narrative definitely has the space for it. I just don't have as much fun with them. It's more that they're not my cup of tea. Call it nature versus nuture, but I always just like it better when the canon disposition of a character is preserved, especially when they're a Good Boy. I like the idea of the core of ourselves preserving in every world.

And I think a megumi that didn't even have the memory of Tsumiki to preserve him would have a much, much sadder life. The Zenin wouldn't hurt him in all the same ways, but they'd still hurt them. Their love is too selfish for that. And he wouldn't even have the memory of a love that didn't hurt to sustain him.

I think the version of Megumi that had Tsumiki and was taken away from her survived a lot of what he did by telling himself that he had a sibling out there, that she loved him and that that meant something, and that it wouldn't hurt so badly anymore if he just got back to her. he had a light at the end of a tunnel that was both long and dark, but it was there all the same. A Megumi without Tsumiki would just be trapped in the dark.

[deepspaceclawstation]

The things we love the most are the ones that can hurt us the worst <- spilled boiling hot soup over half their hand

[bhalspawn]

im so worried about. roan. i know theyre literally my character but im worried

[hanzajesthanza]

i tend to focus on regis making angouleme a little less insane. but the underrated dynamic in my head is angouleme making regis a little more insane. this mentorship goes both ways.

[gatun-gatunesco]

...