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asdfghjklmals · 1 year

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PINKY PROMISES✩༶‧˚

GENRE + T/W: sfw, fluff, angst. menstruation comment. WORD COUNT: 2.3k words. TAGS: satoru gojo x fem!oc, boyfriend!gojo, child megumi fushiguro x fem guardian!oc, adoptedkiddos!megumi & tsumiki

SYNOPSIS: it's been two weeks since learn to love, and megumi still hasn't opened up to oc gojo girlfriend or satoru yet. so oc gojo girlfriend decides to teach him something about promises. AUTHOR'S NOTE: i have a soft spot for gojo being megumi's guardian. oc gojo girlfriend is trying so hard, little does she know, megumi actually really loves her already, he's just too shy to show it. REMINDER: if you want to imagine yourself in oc gojo girlfriend's character descriptions instead, please do!

it was dinner time at the dining hall for all the tokyo jujutsu high school students. while the men were cooking dinner (and by men, that meant all the men were watching nanami cook dinner), you and shoko spoke about the recent gossip that spread like wildfire across campus: you and satoru gojo becoming parents.

“so, gojo brought these kids to your room and basically said that he’s taking them in?” shoko repeated.

“yeah, crazy right? as of two weeks ago, i'm a mother.” you said as you watched megumi and tsumiki in the corner of the kitchen, they were coloring with crayons.

“do you really think that you and gojo can be parental figures in their lives?” she questioned as you were still gazing over at them.

“satoru seems to think so. i didn’t think he’d make me a teen mom.” you joked.

as you watched the two young fushiguros, you wondered if you would be good enough to give them parental advice as they grow up in yours and satoru’s care.

could satoru really raise megumi to be a jujutsu sorcerer? everyone knew that satoru gojo was the strongest, but could he raise a jujutsu sorcerer even if he wasn’t fully trained himself? satoru was still working on perfecting his own techniques like his long distance teleportation and his domain expansion. only you were second to him in laying out your domains.

who would give the birds and the bees talk to megumi? and who would be there for tsumiki when she starts to mature? when she gets her first period? that would be up to you to teach her about puberty and becoming a woman. god, satoru gojo couldn’t even talk about the reproductive system without giggling.

***********************************

“how does (y/n) feel about you taking the kids in?” suguru asked as he and satoru watched nanami flip over gyozas in the frying pan.

“she didn’t take me seriously at first.” satoru replied to him. his mouth watering at the sight of the crispy gyozas. the oil in the pan danced along with the sitting gyozas.

“i mean... have you seen yourself? we can’t even take you seriously.” nanami retorted.

satoru frowned, “thanks nanami...”

“(y/n) is kind. she would do anything to help.” yu haibara put in his two cents. he was a big fan of yours, it was because you were so nice to him and nanami when they joined jujutsu high. you were the one to show them around campus on their first day.

“haibara is right, (y/n) is the best. satoru is lucky to have her. i don’t know how she deals with him.” suguru laughed as he put his arm around satoru's shoulder, teasing him.

“she said she’d help, but that’s after i begged.” satoru grumbled. he hated to admit that he had to beg.

“you? beg?” nanami snorted. he flipped the last of the gyozas and put them on the shared plate. he turned back to the stove and stirred the soup that was boiling away.

“i told her the circumstances, it was up to her ultimately. i could've raised them myself.” satoru folded his arms in defense. he looked over at you and shoko and saw that you were watching the kids too.

***********************************

you and shoko got up to walk over to where megumi and tsumiki were coloring.

“megumi? tsumiki?” you called their names. megumi continued to color and tsumiki looked over at you obediently. her smile could blind a country. she was such a happy child despite her situation.

“kids, this is shoko ieiri. she’s a second year like me and satoru. she’s studying to be a doctor, so if you guys get hurt, you’ll see shoko, okay?”

“hi kids.” shoko waved to the children. she was able to hold a steady conversation with tsumiki, but megumi continued to color and color and color. he didn’t pay anyone any mind.

“dinner’s ready!” haibara called out.

“come on, let’s eat.” shoko grabbed tsumiki’s hand and guided her to the dining table. you were about to leave with them, but saw that megumi didn’t get up from the little table to join everyone.

“megumi, are you hungry?” you crouched down to ask him. he ignored you, like he had been doing for the past two weeks. you folded your arms in discontentment.

how were you going to get through to this kid? his walls were up and you didn’t know how to bring them down. how could you let megumi know that you were there for him?

“megumi! let’s eat dinner!” tsumiki called out to him, but he just brushed her off.

“i'm not hungry.” he said quietly.

“it’s okay, shoko, tsumiki—go ahead.” you shoo’d them away.

you stood back up and let megumi color in peace. you made eye contact with satoru and frowned in defeat. you were worried about megumi. these past two weeks have been hard on you because you tried everything you could to get through to him, to build a relationship with him.

as you sat at the dining table with everyone, you couldn’t work up an appetite. you poked at your gyoza and sipped at your soup.

“you not hungry, babe?” satoru asked, putting his arm around your shoulder as you softly sighed, his free hand rubbing your thigh.

“not really. i'm worried about megumi. something seems to be bothering him.”

satoru squeezed your hand as both of you looked over at megumi. he was still coloring. you saw him look over at the table a couple of times when tsumiki started to laugh while talking to shoko and haibara.

you got up from the dining table as satoru’s arm fell from your shoulder to the back of your now empty chair. he watched you while you grabbed a small bowl of soup and a couple pieces of gyoza. you made your way back to the table where megumi was coloring.

you greeted him, “hi megumi, i brought you some food.”

“i said i wasn't hungry.” megumi repeated himself again, avoiding all eye contact with you.

“well, you haven’t eaten since breakfast, you must be hungry.” you frowned.

“no, i'm not.”

did you just hear some sass in his tone? you squinted at him.

“well, i'm not leaving until you eat your food.” you quipped back at him.

if megumi fushiguro wanted to have a stubborn competition, he was going to have a stubborn competition—and you were the reigning queen of this (satoru would know).

you watched him color. he was drawing two dogs, a white one and a black one. you remembered your older brother, touya, teaching you about the zen’nin clan and the ten shadows technique. the first shikigami a ten shadows technique user could summon were the demon dogs.

was megumi already seeing his shikigami?

“are those your dogs?” you asked him as you pointed at his drawing.

of course, he just ignored you. you dug deeper. “are they the demon dogs?”

megumi stopped coloring and looked up at you, “what do you know about the demon dogs?”

“well, i know that it’s the first shikigami a ten shadows technique user can summon. they are used for many different things like tracking, fighting, or just being there by your side to keep you company.” you told him.

megumi put down his crayons—it seems like you finally piqued his interest.

***********************************

“hmmm, it looks like she got the kid to stop coloring.” satoru announced, looking over at the table as he watched you and megumi.

he felt a weird feeling inside—it was a warm and fuzzy feeling. his heart swelled watching you with megumi.

all the second years and first years looked over at the table to watch you and megumi as well.

***********************************

“can you tell me about the ten shadows?” megumi asked you quietly.

“only if you eat your dinner.” you made him a deal, it was up to him to take it or not.

megumi furrowed his brows as he slowly reached for the pair of chopsticks to pick up a piece of gyoza. you felt that you could continue telling him what you knew now that he started to eat.

“there’s a specific hand sign that you have to do in order to summon any of the shikigami.” you explained.

“do you know the hand signs for the dogs?” megumi asked, chewing his food.

you smiled softly. “i don’t, but i know who does.”

“who?”

“satoru gojo does.”

“oh, the creepy guy with the white hair and sunglasses?” megumi’s comment made you laugh out loud. that was the first time someone called satoru gojo creepy.

“he does give you the creeps, huh? me too.” you joked with him. megumi cracked a smile.

“oh, did i just get a smile from the megumi fushiguro?” you feigned with shock.

megumi started to grin, but he quickly contained himself. he ate some more gyoza and sipped at his soup.

“megumi... i know your father and mother left you and tsumiki—” you started to say, but megumi interrupted you.

“and? it doesn’t matter—everyone always leaves in the end anyways.”

you blinked in shock at how straightforward this 5 year old boy could be. you actually weren’t even sure if he was 5 anymore with that last comment of his.

“well, satoru and i won’t—we’ll always be there for you and tsumiki. i promise—and (y/n) (l/n) never breaks her promises.” you held out your pinky to megumi in hopes that he’ll pinky promise you back.

“what are you doing?” megumi looked at you confused.

“have you ever done a pinky promise before?” you asked him.

megumi shook his head—he hadn’t.

you explained the story of a pinky promise to him, “people make pinky promises so that they don’t break their promise—if you break your promise, you have to chop off your pinky.”

“you’re going to chop off your pinky if you break your promise to me and tsumiki?” megumi asked you with skepticism. he seems like he’s had one too many promises broken in his lifetime.

“yes—and satoru will too.” you answered back.

satoru would understand if you spoke for him. he softly intertwined his pinky with yours and you kissed your thumb to seal the deal. megumi didn't follow you on the kiss back though—it was okay, you'd get him to do it next time.

“do you and that creep pinky promise on stuff too?” megumi wondered.

you smiled at him, “all the time.”

“on what?”

“well, satoru pinky promised me that he will be the strongest jujutsu sorcerer so that he can protect me.” you told megumi.

one day, satoru would have to tell him the story about megumi's own father and how satoru’s near-death fight with toji made him have an epiphany about his own powers. (read ‘the honored one’ here)

you looked over at satoru. he was watching you and megumi. he waved when you made eye contact with him. you winked at him and he blew you a kiss. megumi’s eyes wandered to him as well.

“so he’s the strongest?” he asked with uncertainty.

he couldn't believe that satoru gojo was the strongest. megumi thought he looked like an idiot, especially with the lack of tact he had when he first approached him and tsumiki. why couldn't you have been the one to find them instead?

“yes, he is,” you smiled brightly at your man, “—and he’ll be your sensei when you’re old enough to attend jujutsu high school.”

you thought about the conversation you had with satoru about him becoming a teacher once he finishes his third year. would megumi be okay with satoru being the one to teach him how to channel cursed energy and how to fight?

“are you strong too, (y/n)?” megumi questioned you.

“i'm the second strongest,” you looked at him intently with a promise, “—and i will protect you and tsumiki, just like satoru will.”

“why did he pinky promise that to you?” megumi changed the subject as he started to blush. he wondered why satoru promised to protect you if you were already strong enough to protect yourself.

“well, megumi—satoru is something you call a boyfriend to me. he loves me. and well… you protect the people you love.”

“he was talking about you when he picked us up. he said you were his girlfriend. is that the same thing as a boyfriend?”

“yes it is,” you said laughing. kids were so damn cute with their comments these days, “you might be too young to understand, but when you get bigger, you’ll find a someone you love and maybe you can be a boyfriend too.”

megumi ended up finishing his food. (y/n) 1: megumi 0. you had won the stubborn competition. he took the empty soup bowl and put it in front of you.

“can i have more soup... please?”

EXTRA:

the kids were sleeping in your room as you spent the night in satoru’s dorm room—this was how it had been for the past two weeks.

you climbed into bed as your boyfriend watched you. you sat closely next to him. he was expecting you to tell him the juicy gossip of what happened at dinner with megumi. after giving him a brief run down, he sighed.

“so, megumi is already seeing his demon dogs?” satoru asked. you scratched at the back of his undercut and tilted your head at him.

“yes, baby, and you’re gonna have to teach him how to use them. i told him you know the hand symbols.”

“that’s fine, we can do that. the demon dogs are loyal and loving according to my sources—they would be good to have by his side.” satoru closed his eyes and sighed in bliss, he loved when you scratched his undercut. you stopped scratching as he hugged you close.

“satoru... are you going to tell megumi about his father?” you quietly asked.

“you know—i tried telling him when i found him, but that little shit just cut me off. i told him that if he ever wanted to know about his dad, he can ask me any time.”

“you promise you’ll tell him the whole story?”

satoru intertwined his pinky with yours and kissed you firmly on the lips.

“i pinky promise.”

DIVIDERS PROVIDED BY @/ANLIAN-AISHANG

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sumi-sprite · 4 months

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This is entirely @wisp-of-chaos's fault. They got me into the idea of Illithid babies, specifically their OC Vlassk with baby Omeluum. If I have to suffer the cuteness overload and brainrot, THEN SO DO YOU ALL.

Under the cut due to length!

IMAGE TEXT:

1.) Born partially blind and know their parent of guardian by their psionic signature, touch, and smell. Their vision will gradually adjust over ten to fifteen weeks of age.

2.) Self soothing: Newborns are prone to suckling on their own tentacles!

3.) Internal yolk. A newborn Illithid will "nurse" on its parent's psionic energy for the first six to eight weeks of life before adjusting to a semi-solid diet.

4.) Cranium bones are still soft and not yet fully fused. This makes the birth easier for not just the parent, but the child as well, whose delicate brain can be easily damaged until the skull hardens.

5.) Limbs are soft and extremely weak. It takes months for a newborn to learn how to fully use its limbs, with their tentacles being the first to gain full mobility and dexterity.

6.) Claws are not yet developed. Fingers and toes and very soft and delicate and may be prone to injury if the parent is not careful. Grip strength is extremely weak compared to the tentacles.

BOTTOM TEXT: Extremely soft and fragile, but frighteningly intelligent and curious. Newborn Illithids may gain a higher vocabulary in under a year if they are cared for properly and fed a rich diet of sapient brain mush. At roughly a year of age, they can be given cut pieces of intact brain. After eighteen months, they are big enough to eat a whole half brain. They are able to walk, speak, and levitate around two years.

Other HCs not included due to limited space:

juvenile marks and spots vanish over time.

newborns cannot lift their own heads for at least five months due to the size and weight of their own brains.

teething. Newborn teeth come in at around ten months of age, then shed them at two years, gaining juvenile teeth. These fall out at five years old and they gain their first sub-adult set.

the internal yolk is visible until the newborn fully absorbs it and moves onto brain mush. The translucency of its belly also becomes opaque over their first year of life.

Newborns are entirely reliant on their parent or caretakers for the first two years of their life due to their weak muscle and delicate bone structures. Their fragility makes them precious to a colony, and they take almost as much precedence as an Elder Brain.

I don't know, I just thought this was fricken adorable and like I said, entirely Wisp's fault. I need baby Omeluum in my life being a curious and extra squishy little bean that can't stop putting things in its mouth and is ENAMORED by glowing mushrooms.

It's HC hobbies include extra long naps, chewing its own tentacles, chewing Vlassk's tentacles/hands, getting into places it shouldn't, wearing cookware, naps in its sling and/or Vlassk's tendrils, touching EVERYTHING, watching small critters, and contemplating the mystery of mirrors.

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veliseraptor · 13 days

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I don't know if you're still doing this but top 5 musicians?

i can still be doing it, for sure. honestly i can still be doing top fives whenever, they're fun for me

Vienna Teng. my OTM (one true musician), queen of my musical heart, comfort artist I always come back to. I think Spotify told me I was in the top less than 1% of listeners last year? and that's been true the last several years running. I'm so excited for the new music this year that was promised to me. or if it doesn't happen this year I'll be excited for it next year, or whenever it happens, I don't even care. would try to pick a favorite song but honestly I don't know that I could

ThouShaltNot. I tripped over this one because of @shorelle back in my livejournal days and they've been a mainstay of my listening rotation ever since. I love their lyrics and their sound both. very different from most of the others on this list but still a fave, for sure. favorite song is probably "We Could Have Flown Like Pollen" though it's a toss up between a lot of them on that album.

The Crane Wives. I found these guys through "Tongues and Teeth" which is a #shipping aesthetic song and then learned that I just really like the rest of their music also. "Tongues and Teeth" probably remains my favorite of theirs but I also have a big soft spot for "The Hand That Feeds."

Delta Rae. another more recent discovery where I just really like their general sound/style. I think my favorite is "Chasing Twisters" but I also really like "Forgive the Children We Once Were."

Within Temptation. this spot was a bit of a toss up between them, Nightwish, and Blind Guardian (mostly for Nightfall on Middle Earth, lbr), but ultimately I landed on Within Temptation. bonus points for giving me hella nostalgia for a very specific period in my life. this is another one where my favorite song is a serious open question, but I am deeply attached to the entire The Silent Force album.

#conversating #anonymous #top five meme

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anfie-in-the-box · 7 months

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Rest for both wicked and weary

Notes

The eleventh of October is my birthday, but no congratulations needed — I only celebrate by gifting things to other people. Please have this piece dedicated to @dragon-tamer-1, who I value endlessly. The prompt was Error and Dream relaxing peacefully; I'm not sure if it's particularly fluffy, there's definitely some angst here, but even more Hurt/Comfort.

。。。

Dream prepares for his visit to the Anti-Void painstakingly. He wears clothes of soft gray shades, only leaving the tiara and the cape untouched, so it doesn't bother Error's weak eyesight yet has enough colour to attract his attention. Then Dream gets a cane — in the Anti-Void, vast and ever-changing, you don't believe your eyes; you stay vigilant and keep your step light, weightless almost. Luckily, Dream isn't a normal skeleton, he just has a body of one; and even that can be corrected with the right training. Or just experience, he supposes; oh, how he used to shamble around, making Error laugh, before he realised he could use a cane. Like a blind being, only he is indeed blind in the Anti-Void, like all not-errors are. He's a stranger there, and since he can't become an error, an unwelcome one.

Dream sighs, putting on thin gloves, just in case. He's ready now.

It takes time to focus properly — the Anti-Void is utterly chaotic, constantly rebuilding itself, and full of creatures beyond comprehension. Some of them are capable of feeling, some aren't, some feel but so differently Dream is left confused — he's too used to his empathic abilities.

But eventually, finally, he finds the right being. So he teleports.

Error instantly spots him, even though Dream appears behind him. He might be half-blind with that poor eyesight of his, but his intuition is impeccable — at least when it comes to beings with souls, which Dream is.

"I was waiting for so long," Error complains, irritated. "How many tries did it take to find me?"

"Just one," Dream smiles widely. "It took more time, but I managed to find you in one try." He knows he sounds very proud of himself, but that's okay. With Error, he's allowed to feel and think unapologetically. Error, though he demands attention, lets Dream go just as easily. And besides, they teach each other many things — Error knows how to be selfish very well indeed and learns from Dream how to be more empathetic and considerate.

They work together quite nicely.

Lost in his pride, Dream forgets to use the cane and immediately trips and falls — not right on his face though — there are blue strings keeping him airborne. He giggles awkwardly and says, "Thanks."

"Yeah, yeah, tell me how great I am." Error doesn't turn around but Dream knows he grins. He can't help smiling in return.

"You can put me down now, you know," Dream half-suggests, half-asks while wiggling slightly to try and untangle himself without Error's help. Tough luck.

"As if you could escape on your own!" Error gloats. "I hold the entire universes, a small guardian like you doesn't stand a chance!"

"Yet Ink manages," Dream disagrees carefully.

"That cheater doesn't have a soul. You do."

Now that's something Dream hasn't pondered over. Not right now either — as soon as Error sets him free, he scurries to his blue bean bag chair — this time using the cane, of course, — and sits down — lies down almost. It's warm and soft. Cozy. So big it's more of a bed than a chair; which might as well be true, there's nothing else here resembling a bed, and Dream knows for sure Error loves sleeping.

"Where did you even get your bean bag from?" Dream asks, ready to hear it's stolen like chocolate from Underfell and the lives of innocents from any other AU.

Error doesn't reply instantly. Dream even considers standing up and looking Error in the sockets to see what's wrong, but then he finally says, "I actually don't remember. Like it's always been there, maybe even before me."

Who knows, it might be true. The Anti-Void contains and loses all sorts of creatures, after all.

Error sounds distressed like he always is when his memory acts up, so Dream hurries to roll closer and asks, "A pinkie?"

"A hand," Error replies, every sound of a single word glitching.

Dream gives him a bare hand — he still hasn't found gloves tender enough to pacify Error's glitching fits. For some reason it's easier for him to touch Dream's bones than any fabric they'd tried.

Perhaps it's time to ask if Error has any idea why. When he gets better, of course. Hopefully it doesn't last long.

Dream squeezes Error's hand and gets a squeeze in return. At least he's conscious and not rebooting…

"You feel… different. There's more, er, something other than magic in you. Magic in skeleton-monsters or even monsters in general is more solid than whatever you're made of. Not even ghosts are anything like you." Error explains.

"Positivity," Dream clarifies. "I'm made of positity. Not entirely, my bones are just that — magical bones; but even those are covered with positive energy. And my eye-lights, my insides, my attacks are all pure positivity."

"Well, that explains it," Error shrugs. "You're basically so much of a sunshine it overwhelms my phobia and cancels it. As much as it can be canceled, I suppose."

"Does it really help though? My presence, my… touch?" Dream pauses before the last word, feeling all warm yet uncertain.

He knows it does. And knows Error knows he knows. But hearing the answer and believing it are two different states of mind. Dream's yet to reach the second one.

And so Error answers absolutely honestly, "It does."

The two of them then sit together, still holding hands, resting in peace and quiet.

Later Error might or might not steal a book or a few and make Dream read to him, and Dream will read, silently reminiscing about the days of old, when his brother was alive but not happy, not since the villagers came to be. He loved the books though, and loved reading them to Dream, though the little guardian of positivity was beside the Tree less and less, helping the villagers where he could, and then where he couldn't but still did, because people demanded. The memories are bittersweet, and even later Dream will share a few with Error, and Error will listen attentively, and then share his own foggy memories of the past, full of inconsistent and even missing bits.

"A hug and a trip to that version of Outertale I found?" Error asks suddenly.

"Sounds like a plan," Dream beams. Error rarely requests hugs but that just makes them even more precious to the guardian of positivity.

So they stand up — Error effortlessly, Dream's with a bit more difficulty, he's not exactly used to furniture like Error's bean bag, — and embrace.

"Is the texture of my clothes still good?" Dream asks when they let go of each other.

Error nods, grinning, "Perfect, as I deserve."

"Glad to hear that. Outertale?"

"Yeah. It's unlike most of the AUs where some people manage to evacuate. True genocide, nobody left. You won't feel a thing, not a single grieving or furious soul," Error looks at Dream with pride.

"That's… really smart, actually." Dream says thoughtfully. "Nothing to make me stronger, but also nothing to make me weaker or attract Corrupted."

"Of course it's smart. It was my idea after all." Error boasts and opens a portal. "You first."

Dream smiles at him and makes his first step into outer space. He's not afraid; he won't be alone in its solitude.

。。。

Notes

Lots and lots of headcanons here!

Anti-Void being full of non-existent things, Dream's true nature peaking through his skeleton form... It was really nice to finally share those.

Also very proud of the title choice here. It came to me naturally. I instantly knew — that's it. As perfect as anything in this world can be.

#anfie writes #anfie writes one-shots #dream!sans #error!sans #romance or friendship? I'd say something in-between #utmv

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corinthianism · 7 months

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last kiss | sam winchester (2)

pairing: sam winchester/f!reader additional tags: best friends to lovers (?), angst, fluff

masterlist | previous chapter | next chapter | ao3

CHAPTER TWO: JOHN'S BOY

Finding Pestilence was easier after the boys, plus Crowley, interrogated Brady. Your heart broke for Sam who had to live with the fact that even in his college days, when he thought he could just be normal and safe, demons were still hovering around him like fucked-up guardian angels. As soon as Brady got to the hideout, you and Dean tried your damned hardest to get Sam to back down. He was livid, and rightfully so, but Brady had information that could potentially help stop the apocalypse.

But that anger.

That anger in Sam, so reminiscent of John’s, was going to be the end of him. You couldn’t let it fester, not now when you were so, so close. It scared you, the way his eyes would glaze over with hate. You’ve never seen him like that, and this new hatred boiling him alive shook you more than you cared to admit.

You watched a few feet from the salt line, trying to stay as stoic as possible. Crowley had left Brady here for the boys to deal with, and you knew Dean understood better than anyone why Sam needed to do this. You understood, but that didn’t mean you liked it, because this was more than just another demon killed. This was meant to taunt Sam; this demon’s vessel was someone he had gone to school with. Someone he trusted. Someone Jessica trusted.

To have even that part of his life, a few precious years he cherished for its normalcy, be taken away from him? You understood his anger, but all you could do was watch.

Sam stood tall and perfectly upright. A soldier. In the dim light, he really was John Winchester’s son.

Brady scoffed when Sam brandished Ruby’s knife, “I bet this is a real moment for you, big boy. Gonna make you feel all better?”

“It’s a start,” Sam answered flatly.

“Gonna make up for all the times that we yanked your chain? Yellow eyes, Ruby, me? But it wasn't all our fault, was it? No, no, no, no,” Brady’s voice was mocking, a crazed expression overtaking his otherwise young and handsome face. “You're the one who trusted us. You're the one who let us into your life, let us whisper in your ear over and over and over again. Ever wonder why that is, Sammy? Ever wonder why we were so in your blind spot? Maybe it's because we got the same stuff in our veins and, deep down, you know you're just like us.”

He lunged at Sam, and you almost took a step forward, if it weren’t for the fact that Sam easily dodged it and nicked Brady with the demon blade with ease.

“Maybe you hate us so much because you hate what you see every time you look in the mirror. You ever think of that?” his eyes were crazed and his tone dropped as Sam inched closer and closer. “Maybe the only difference between you and a demon… is your hell is right here.”

You knew better than anyone, except for Dean, what Sam was thinking, and you knew from the way he steeled himself at Brady’s words, that that was a confirmation of everything the demon accused him of. He did see himself that way. He did see himself as a monster. You could feel your nails dig into your palm as you balled up your fist even tighter.

“Interesting theory,” the words didn’t match Sam’s thoughts. He tilted his head mockingly at the demon before stabbing the demon blade into Brady’s stomach. Lightning crackled underneath the flesh and bone, and then he was dead. With a huff, Sam simply walked away, breezing past you and Dean and into the passenger seat of the Impala. You glanced at Dean, receiving a simple head shake as if to say “just let him be”. You forced yourself to swallow all the words you wanted to say and got into the backseat of the car, leaning your head on the window. This wasn’t over yet.

The drive back to Bobby’s was always a pleasant one. It meant you were going home. The endless tall trees rushed past you as Dean drove; this and the soft hum of the radio lulled you to sleep. The two brothers often had long-winded conversations about anything and everything during these drives, especially going back to Sioux Falls, but tonight they were silent. Your eyes closed, your breathing stilled into a slow, easy pace. In dream land, the universe was sometimes kinder to you, and so you let it whisk you away.

Of course, nightmares were always common, one of the many experiences all hunters shared with one another. Growing up, even you couldn’t escape it. Sometimes, the monsters you hunted killed you. Typical hunter nightmare. Other times, the faces of those you had failed to save would scream at you, hurt you, beg you to tell them why they were dead instead of you. Those were always some of the worst. Even after how many years surviving this life, failure never got easier because failure meant someone died because of you.

On the worst nights, however, you saw Sam. Unfortunately for you, your mind was quite creative. You’d seen him experience every death imaginable, and it always felt sickeningly real.

On those nights, you couldn’t help but wonder if that was your subconscious’ way of preparing itself for what was to come.

You had been luckier than most to have found a family in the Winchesters and Bobby. So incredibly lucky to have a home to return to and people to love and protect. Most hunters entered this life because they lost that. You’re one of the few to gain it back. Sometimes, the universe rewarded you with a good dream. A simple dream. Yes, there was still pain and sadness, but it was from overdue bills and the laundry getting rained on rather than losing someone to a monster.

You dreamed of Dean, happily settled down with Lisa, raising Ben as his own. You saw Bobby, still running his salvage yard and reading lore books for enjoyment rather than work. Ellen and Jo were still alive, running a new-and-improved Harvelle Roadhouse.

Finally, you saw Sam. There were no scars on him, except for the ones a child would get from playing outside. He didn’t wear his father and brother’s hand-me-downs. He had just passed the bar exam.

John’s anger was nowhere to be found.

And no, you would never, ever tell a soul about who you were in your own dreams. The details in a dream were always hazy after you woke up, no matter how hard you tried to remember them, but the glint of a simple gold ring on your left hand stayed with you for months. In your dreams, your house smelled like apple pie. You dreamed of water soaking your hands as you washed the dishes. You dreamed of Sam, his breath on your neck as he hugged you from behind.

It always hurt to wake up after a dream like that.

It hurt even more when it was Sam who woke you up, with a gentle tap on your cheek. Then you remembered you were still in the Impala, still trying to stop the apocalypse, still a hunter. You shook the sleep off, forcing yourself to get up so you could haul your ass into Bobby’s house.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Sam chuckled.

“Ugh,” you grumbled. “What time is it?”

“About 9:30.”

“Fuck,” you blinked a few times, still disoriented. “Where’s Dean?”

He paused, as if unsure if he should answer you, “...He’s inside the house with Bobby.”

It took you a while to realize what he meant.

“Oh my god, he knows, doesn’t he?” your eyes widened. “Shit. You told him already?”

He frowned, “I told him in the car. You were asleep. I figured it was better for him to find out sooner than later.”

The sigh you let out was involuntary. You knew he did the right thing, but it was probably better to wait. Dean had just witnessed his baby brother take all his anger out on a demon, and now Sam was saying he wanted to let Lucifer possess him? It was the worst possible way to convince Dean.

“That was kind of stupid.”

“I know,” his head hung low in acknowledgment. “Well, it’s too late now. We better head inside.”

The two of you entered the house, the smell of beer and pie being the first thing to greet you. The second thing to greet you was the sound of Dean’s yelling. You and Sam held your breaths, preparing for his brother’s wrath. Heavy footsteps paced around the living room, and you could see Bobby lean against his desk with a somber expression on his face.

Almost as soon as he had calmed down, Dean boiled over again with anger when he saw Sam, “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Dean-” Sam tried to explain.

“No, don’t Dean me. I mean, you’ve had some stupid ideas in the past, but this?” his jaw clenched in frustration, then he turned to Bobby. “Did you… did you know about this?”

When Bobby didn’t respond, which was an answer in and of itself, Dean turned to you.

“Did you know about this?” he repeated, staring at you intently and trying his best to stay calm because you were the last person he wanted to yell at.

“Yes, just last night. Before you brought back Brady,” you confessed.

His gaze softened, probably because for once, someone was being honest with him, so he responded with a simple nod and an “okay”.

“You can’t do this,” he told Sam. His words held the weight of the years he spent protecting his baby brother. Dean was scared he couldn’t protect Sam this time. Not from this, if Sam went through with it.

“That’s the consensus,” Sam answered. His eyes flickered over to you for a split second.

“Alright. Awesome. Then, end of discussion,” Dean said, almost humorously, but with a sense of finality. His phone rang. It was Castiel.

From Dean’s responses, you gathered Cas was in a hospital somewhere and without his powers. It only served to worsen your anxiety. Did you really stand a chance?

A large hand found yours. Each line, each groove in the skin was one you were all too familiar with. Sam knew, perhaps sensed, your worries. He had spent far too long being your friend not to.

“You okay?” he whispered so softly that only you could hear.

“Yeah.”

A few moments of silence, then he brought your hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss on the back of it. Sam was often shy in his affections, and when you’ve been towing the line between being friends and something more for as long as the two of you have, it was perfectly understandable.

“You two lovebirds better get outta my house before you make me sick,” Bobby grunted, annoyed. Dean only laughed; one of the few times he’s done so since Lucifer broke free from the cage.

“Come on, lovebirds,” Dean patted you and Sam’s shoulders, a teasing lilt in his tone. “We got a Horseman to catch.”

▼△▼△▼△▼△▼

John Winchester was a terrifying man. Based on what the boys told you, he was a veteran, and that only made him an exceptionally capable hunter. It wasn’t often that you spent time with John, as you were Bobby’s protégé. The first time you met the Winchester patriarch, he nearly shot you. Bobby tore him a new one after that, shotgun loaded and ready if John didn’t make up for his mistake, but the only apology you got was a gruff “watch where you’re goin’ next time”.

He was an utter enigma, one you didn’t wish to solve, but when his sons started staying over at Bobby’s more often, you couldn’t help but see the toll his neglect had on the boys… but that was none of your business. You weren’t part of their family. You were a friend at best and a researcher for them at the least.

John had dropped off the boys at Bobby’s again. It was the second time this month. You couldn’t be sure if he truly was off on a hunt or if he was just doing something else and couldn’t be bothered to leave his kids at a motel.

Dean, the older son, was nearly a spitting image of his father. He was prideful, suave, and nearly every bit of the man John wanted him to be. He reeked of hair gel and cheap cologne, faint and fading acne scars littered across his chin. He stepped out of the ‘67 Chevy Impala, the air of confidence immediately fading into a lighthearted ease once Bobby greeted him outside with you in tow.

“Hey, Bobby,” he greeted back, earning a pat on his shoulder.

Sam was behind him, a small smile on his face. It seemed both boys were happy to see their uncle.

“Hi, Uncle Bobby,” his voice was also small. Sam was about your age, probably about thirteen to Dean’s seventeen. He then smiled at you, “Hi again.”

“Hi, Sammy,” you replied with a smile of your own.

Bobby ushered all three of you inside, with promises of pie and popcorn and some beer, as long as they promised not to tell their father. John demanded that his kids spend every single second of their time training, and Bobby vehemently opposed this military lifestyle.

“They’re kids, for Christ’s sake,” Bobby would say. “Let them be kids.”

You were laying down a dusty old couch, one of many in this house, reading a book about Celtic mythology. Bobby and Dean were watching some of Bobby’s favorite movies which were a little bit too raunchy for little Sam.

Speaking of, Sam padded into the room, a nervous smile on his face. You didn’t notice him at first, too engrossed in the section of the book about banshees.

“Um, hi,” he spoke up to get your attention. “What’re you reading?”

You looked up and greeted him with a smile, “Hi. Uh, Celtic stuff. I’m reading about banshees right now. Bobby hasn’t seen a real one before, so I wanted to read up on them in case we ever had to hunt one.”

“Woah,” he said in awe. “I think Dad’s hunted one before.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, he was on his own, though,” he muttered.

You grinned, “Rufus called them nasty sons of bitches.”

Sam laughed. It was cute, how a boy who grew up, or was growing up, with the most macho-mucho men you could imagine, blushed at a swear word. You sat upright then, pulling him onto the couch with you. The left side of the book was held up by your hand, while the right side was being held up by his.

He began to read it to you softly, his words hanging in the air like a gentle breeze. You had never seen this kind of gentleness in a hunter before, except for Bobby. It baffled you how this boy you sat next to was John Winchester’s son. Sam, despite growing up in dingy motels and the smell of whiskey, had a heart like no other.

Bobby told you once that he wished the boy had never known this life.

At that moment, when the sunlight shone through his brown hair and onto the pages, you could see the staggering difference between Sam and his brother. Being a hunter flowed through their blood, yes, but Dean had embraced it as part of himself. He accepted it a long time ago, despite being the one who was able to experience the normal life. Even if it was only for a short few years.

Dean was not just John’s son, he was Mary’s, too. Sam didn’t have that, his mother ripped away from him at just six months old, but you could see it, especially now: the kindness in his eyes that was most definitely not his father’s.

Hunters rarely had anyone in their lives, besides other hunters. For the longest time, you only had Bobby. The only person in your life worth protecting and taking care of and loving. You were okay with that, if he was to be the only person you’d have room in your heart for.

You looked at Sam again. He was looking at you too, the banshee lore long forgotten.

Perhaps your heart had more room than you thought.

#sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #supernatural #dean winchester #jared padalecki #supernatural fanfiction #reader insert

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enddaysengine · 5 months

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Unseen Corner (Mage Supernal Being)

I didn't think it would be there. It's always in the last place you look. Why do I never look at the top of that stack of shelves? Did this room always have a window?

The Unseen Corner is a Supernal Being of hidden Spaces, especially those hidden in plain sight. The Unseen takes many forms, but all of them are small and diminutive. To a Mastigos versed in Life, it appears to be an ordinary mouse. To a Guardian, it is a mask buried in a rubbish heap. To mages with demonic or angelic Shadow Names, it is the classic Imp - a tiny, horn person with red skin, bat wings, and a pointed tail. As long as it is easily missed, it is a form the Corner can take.

The Unseen Corner is soft-spoken, rarely raising its voice above a whisper or calling attention to itself. Its unobtrusive nature means it is common for a summoner to not realize the Corner has appeared, except for the certain knowledge that the ritual worked.

Mages summon the corner when the want to be overlooked, interfere with surveillance, or shield their Sympathetic connections. It has a fondness for Guardians and Mystagogues, although neither Order get preferential treatment out of the deal. It does keep a Supernal eye on such mages however, watching them long past the terms of their summoning require. While the Unseen is ambivalent toward the Free Council, the Libertines frequently call on the Imp, as its trials are less harsh when it has the opportunity fuck with the Panopticon. It has no special hatred of Seers or the Exarchs in general, but if the Eye has its way, hidden spaces will cease to exist so the Unseen gleefully interferes with its minions plans.

The Unseen Corner is a reserved Imp, economical in its words unless it is pointing out a Mage's blind spots. It prefers to perch on ledges or hide in corners, anywhere it can easily be overlooked and spy on others unseen. The Unseen does not broke any suggestion that it is a hypocrite for spying while simultaneously working to dismantle the Panopticon. From its perspective, it is an individual who simply watches what happens around it from a hidden space in a limited area. The Panopticon, however, wishes to systematically eliminate all hidden spaces and observe everything. The few Seers who tried to sway the Unseen on this position met sticky ends.

Rank 2 Pandemonic Imp Power 2 Finesse 7 Resistance 5 Virtue: Unobtrusive Vice: Voyeuristic Ban: The Corner cannot use its Arcana in ways that are easily witnessed. Bane: A picture or painting of itself. Arcana: Mind 2, Space 2, Matter 1 Mana: 15 Corpus: 7 Willpower: 10 Initiative: +12 Defence: 2 Speed: 11 Size: 2

Hey! This was originally made for my patreons over on Patreon. If you want more exclusive monsters, you can back me over there, but you can also follow for free and get email updates whenever I post new public content too!

#mage the awakening #chronicle of darkness #supernal #supernal being #imp #Pandemonium #RPG #Urban fantasy #Urban horror

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minzart · 2 months

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hey I have a question about your Au where Lute is Adam's guardian angel

Sorry if I ask too much about your Au :"0

does cain and abel exist in this Au? If so, what would be the fighting relationship with Adam's children? Would she be good to them or would she not support them or treat them like children?

Don't worry about asks! I love them, makes me revisit somethings and work more on projects XD

Funny enough I made Cain and Abel designs especificaly because of this au so yeah :D they exist

I didn't understand clearly what your first ask is, so I'll answer with the two interpretations I made for now, if no-one of them are correct please feel free to send again

Abel and Cain's fight: the way I'm interpreting Abel and Cain in the au and in the hazbin universe is with Cain, being older, is the biological son of Eve and Lucifer, however he's extremely attached to the dad he knows and who raised him, so he is Adam's baby boy basically, has a hero like worship with his dad, being the first son, and for a while only child, adding that he is half angel, made his mom very... blind, to the way the boy was turning out to be, a spoiled brat, even after Cain came she still didn't belived something with Luciffer blood could do that much harm(also first time parenting and having no fucking idea how babies work, for them babies could very well be just clones of the parents).

Cain was raised more stricticaly than Abel because he is fully human and part Adam(keep in mind the "clone of the parents" mentality I'm running with this concept for how Adam&Eve viewed children until experience teached them the truth), turning at the end of the day a mommy's boy, with mommy inssues, the focus on him was extremely on the line of "learning empathy".

Despite it all the brothers did loved each other as siblings do, they fight, they pranked, they protected and they shared. But, Cain is a jealous little shit who is desperated for his father's aproval especialy if(still undecided) Eve told him who his blood dad is, or if the angelic conection kinda started creating a certain disconect. At the end, God's trial was the last straw for Cain, having seeing his mom and dad proudness of Abel's old ass sheep instead of his seeds made the boy just beat his brother to the death with his own hands, not that he knew he could do that(i kinda belive bc of Adam's ego they didn't belived humans could die of anything that isn't a spear)

At the end it was the first homicide, and letal accident, that's also why Abel is besides a crying Cain here.

Lute's relation with Adam's children: to understand her relationship with the brothers first I'd like to brief how I'm doing Adam and Lute's, they are friends first and lovers later(much MUCH later), moving on. There's also the fanfic side of the au, the apple of knowledge consequences in here, besides now Adam&Eve can see the nude human body, they also lost the capacity to actualy see and interact with angelic beings outside of profetic dreams or the voice of God.

So, by the time Cain and Abel are born Lute's role is much much more subdue as a guardian angel, she can only give dreams, and watch, by the time they are teens she's no longer going to earth constantly(besides the shut down of the guardian angel program bc of her failure+Lucifer). However she saw them grow, and in a way was the first angelic interaction with Cain and second handedly teached the boy a bit more about himself, and yes, she had her suspicions about the dad's identity.

When Abel dies and goes to heaven she was assigned to be the boy's guide and figure out whatever the hell he can and can't do, the differences of a human souls and an angelic one etc. It's a nostalgic blast bc she sees Adam's old curiosity in Abel, she absolutely has a soft spot for him. She's kinda aloof but likes them all the same, like that wine rich aunt who gives weird , kinda wise but reckless, advice and you start wondering what the fuck was her life like, but most importantly, she treats him(and every sibling later) as his own person, not a clone, not a baby, only a grow inexperienced adult&angel as he is at the time, so Abel does see her as a mentor(half ass one but one nonteless) and only in heaven he could actualy grown to be his own soul, even start the "guardian angels 2.0" the cherubims :)

#hazbin hotel #hazbin guardian angel au #hazbin adam #hazbin lute #hazbin oc #hazbin cain&abel #hazbin au #hh #yes this is the first time i'm talking about the apple thingy. it seemed better now than never XD

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winn-schott-throughtheheart · 1 year

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hello, all. I present to you a long list of why Winn Schott is Autistic as Hell:

• academically gifted

• stims- hand flappies, plays with his shirt, fidget spinner, lots of trinkets to play with, fidgets a lot, scratching/rubbing the back of his neck, playing with his tie, etc

• star wars special interest- frequently makes references, talks about it a lot, 2x01, 3x09, etc

• also superman special interest or old hyperfixation perhaps: strong long term memory, able to recall exact details of past fights

• doctor who/orphan black, etc, scifi in general also - comfort and routine in fictional worlds

• Genius™- picks up on info that trained agents couldn't after spending an hour at the DEO 1x13, makes Superman's new suit 2x01/2 (?), wrote the code that made literally everything after 5x11 possible, etc

• overwhelmed at lots of voices and shouting 2x11 - noise complexity issues

• that technically wasn't winn but since the Martian took all his memories/thoughts/mannerisms im going to count it as him

• complains that today's music is too loud 1x16

• wears headphones at both places of employment, 1x05, 2x05- noise processing issues again

• can easily go hours without taking a break if he's In The Zone, 1x15, 3x20

• bad social cues 1x13, 1x07, 3x02, 3x09, 2x16 etc etc

• learns a new alien coding language in less than 45 minutes

• learned kryptonian because he was bored

• hyperfocussss

• prefers to be alone- doesn't talk to anybody besides his friends much

• poor self esteem

• over analytical

• time blindness - "How is it still night time? it feels like it's been one week." 2x11

• sensory issues- certain smells - teak wood and tobacco, frequently wears headphones, scrunching his face up at having to wear rubber gloves

• frequently drinks soft drinks- sensory with the bubbles maybe??

• frequently eats more unhealthy things: more predictable in taste and texture than fruits/veg/organic foods.

• very expressive with his hands when talking

• hyper empathy- 3x02, training room scene

• bad at lying

• never noticed how bad his home life was

• awkward with emotions/bad at dealing with emotions 1x10, 1x20, 3x14, 5x12

• easily gives in to peer pressure

• panics under pressure

• routines- it takes a while for him to get used to Guardianing and Supering

• sensitive to temperature

• missing social cues when being questioned by Maggie, 2x16

• stimming - spinning on the stool 3x13

• special interests in techy stuff

• repetetive tasks?? likes taking stuff apart and putting it back together again

• awkward with hugs?? 3x18 at least

• shifting his weight when standing

• face rubbing/touching stim

• "if they like someone romantically, they can be extremely, noticeably awkward in attempts to let them know."

• difficulty making friends/approaching new people

• taking things literally?/ difficulty reading between the lines. "oh, things are not chill." social cues again 3x20

• prefers meaningful conversation over small talk

• ooh routine mayhaps might have been a part of 2x09

• daydreamer/deep thinker, e.g 3x14

• alexythemia - trouble identifying/describing their own/others emotions.

• see e.g- "oh, so I'm supposed to be feeling something? well I don't feel.... anything... I don't think..."

• typical gifted kid- "I always knew he was brilliant and capable-" at ten years old

• difficulty managing intense emotions- could also be PTSD. e.g, 1x10, 3x14, 1x11

• negative beliefs of self, again linked to PTSD

• intense connection to fictional worlds

• engaging in special interests very intently - 1x15, 3x20

• RSD maybe????

• strong long term memory

• pattern spotting/attention to detail, 2x14

• hyperfocus, again 3x20

• low trust in himself

• stimming by pacing, and also humming/singing, 2x16, 3x22, 2x20 (superfriends)

• could be echolalia after Kara maybe explained it cause he literally wasn't there

• clumsy - fine motor skills go brr

• "doesn't really do holidays," perhaps sensory overloads/sensory difficulties??

• or maybe thats just trauma

• or both

• quick/blunt remarks that could come off as rude

• 't-rex' arms

• sticking to the same clothing??

• talking to himself/thinking out loud

• takes his tablet almost everywhere- comfort item??

• stimming- moving his fingers idk like flapping/moving them up and down

• heightened sense of smell - "Oh, God, is that smell you?" like a second after bumping into Kara 1x02

• Kara knows about his Maxwell Lord obsession- hyperfixation/infodumping mayhaps??

• very very t-rex arms Jesus

• I'd make a compilation but God he's doing it in literally every scene I swear

• mumbles when writing code - idk if that's a thing it just seems very neurodivergent

• echolalia- repeats "turbulence" after Brainy in 3x11

• literal - 2x02, "actually, he said he would try."

• uses diagrams and drawings as a means to get points across - 3x22

• highly intelligent but can sometimes be slow to comprehend due to sensory and social difficulties

• stims to soothe when sad or agitated - face rubbing/touching, finger/foot tapping, etc

• similar when happy - jumping, dancing, singing, 2x09, 2x16

• anxiety and fear are prominent emotions

• proud of himself when he can distinguish tones - "Oh, I know that tone, that's a bad news tone" 2x09

• sitting on desks and tables

• sits weird - 2x14

• literally in the middle of an alien invasion and runs back to get his tablet

• genuine 'yep?' after cats sarcastic 'oh, Winslow,' when asked if she's ready 2x21

• prepares for the worst, always

• tapping his fingers 1x10 balcony scene

• tablet is a definite comfort/security item because it's been seen since 1x01. So.

• pacing to self soothe, 1x10, 2x09, 3x14, 5x11 etc

• unique thought process (voyager 3x11, satellites 1x13)

• finger wiggles!!! 3x09

• literally memorises a futuristic maths system to fix a futuristic ship better than the ships owner (someone from the future)

• sensory overload/overstimulation in 3x20 with ruby (coming off as easily irritated etc)

• has a fucking dirt collection

• which Mon-El of all people knows about, so he's either infodumped a whole bunch or they have sleepovers

• always making references

• keeps random shit in his desk?? why does he need a whole toolbox in his desk at catco

• overclarifies himself ("that's like, that's like really fast"); struggles with understanding things sometimes so when he's explaining stuff he explains in more detail the stuff that normally he wouldn't understand.

• relieved hand flappies after stopping indigos missile 1x15

• disinterest in sports/physical activity

• " I was a theatre kid, not a track star!"

• "youthful" for his age: in dresses, activities, tastes, etc

• fictional worlds as a retreat/safe space/coping mechanism

• "may have a strong interest in computers, games, science, graphic design, inventing, things of a technological and visual nature"

• emotionally sensitive

• hates injustice/being misunderstood

• words and actions are often misunderstood by others

• doesn't go out much: only really shown 'out' with his friends/'safe' people (barring that one time in 2x20)

• actually having said that he was probably only in the marketplace because he knew James was going to be there

• when he was at the bar alone in 2x13

• difficulty regulating voice volume - "too loud." "I'm sorry-" 2x14

• "high and to the.. left?" - struggles with fine motor skills and lefts/rights 2x07

• "head north. or, wait, more helpfully.... left."

• stimming with his mask in 3x16

• memory again: remembers where he was told his mum and dad met from over twenty years ago in 3x14, immediate correction "I thought you two met in Ivy Town?"

• fine motor skills again when he breaks the thing in the bathroom on the legion ship 3x17 (?)

• also "I broke something" in 1x07

• wears "restrictively tight" cardigans - comforted by deep pressure therapy

• chicken wings as a safe food

• he also immediately knows what's so important about flight 237 in 3x04- remembers exact details about Supergirl much like he does with Superman

• awkward gait

#winn schott #protects the stars #autism #supergirl crack #crack?#evidence #he is autistic and you can fight me #autistic winn schott #supergirl

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momolady · 1 year

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Monster Valentines: Part One

Want your own monster valentine, check out the info here.

Details wise just a slightly chubby guy looking for a beast like that from Disney movie (1991) if okay. If not a big orc with a love of reading.

Recently at work, you had been receiving letters and notes in your inbox. They were sweet and flirty, all from a secret admirer. The last one you received invited you out on a date. You were curious who was sending them and you constantly were watching people at work, hoping to spot the culprit. But so far, you had no clue.

The day of the date came, which was at a small bookstore and cafe near the park. It was one of your favorite places to go, so you were already impressed by what this secret admirer knew about you. As you walked in, you saw one of the cafe tables was set up with a bouquet of roses and a special tablecloth.

Sitting at the table was a tall figure, his long fur pulled back away from his face. He stood from the table, a soft, nervous smile on his face. You recognized him, he worked in IT and had helped you set up your new computer when the old one broke.

“Hello,” he said, smoothing down his nice shirt.

“Hi,” you replied breathlessly.

His toothy smile showed his sharp fangs and a lose curl came down from his neatly coiffed style. He then moved, offering you a chair and pulling it out. “I thought we could have a nice coffee, chat a bit, then maybe move on to a bigger date.”

You smiled at him over the roses. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

Hello Miss Momo! I'd like the Build A Monster option please. I'm a short ambivert weirdo with curly hair, dark eyes and freckles. My hobbies are drawing and exploring. My fave things are true crime and forests. My faves of yours are Mask the Killer and Sin the tentacle plant.

The Pinewood Demon

For years, residents of the Pinewood area have been reporting sights of a creature in the area. Usually, it is sighted by campers who are enjoying the Pinewood Forest’s large campsite. The creature is said to be over seven feet tall, with glowing red eyes, and a body that looks to be made of woody vines or soft wood twisted around to look like cords making up the body. It is also said he is covered in vines and dark moss, and is often carrying a large blunt instrument in his hand. The Pinewood Demon seems to have a strong dislike of hunters, as most that have been reported missing in the Pinewood Forest are just in fact that, hunters. It is said if you offer items to the Pinewood Demon in a sign of peace, he will leave your campsite alone. The massive creature is said to like potatoes, berries, and occasionally a toy or two. Hikers who have gotten lost said that upon offering something for help, the Pinewood Demon often helps them find the correct path home. So is this creature friend or foe? Demon or guardian?

Hi Momo! I'm interested in a blind date! I'm a chubby 5'4 Mexican American from WNC, nonbinary (she/they), who is kinda witchy, brews beer for a living and loves to drink it too, loves the fine arts (painting, sketching), reading, playing relaxing farming sim games, loves dogs

Every so often you went into the woods, which was in any given direction where you lived. It didn’t matter what directions you went, it was the intent that showed you to your desired destination. You brought a small parcel with you, a sampling of the beers you made. But these were a special brew, ones you made just for this Red Riding Hood like journeys into the tall ambling woods of the Appalachia.

Eventually you come upon the path you seek, following it as it winds, becomes covered in shining pebbles, and small flickering lanterns light your way. A low fog surrounds you and the flickering lights glow brighter, showing you through the smokey mist.

The path leads to an old gate, one you have traveled through many times before. The latch is worn and old, it takes merely a push to step into the bounds of the property you seek. The large house is always the same, though sometimes the placement of the windows is different. Sometimes they are stained glass, sometimes they are wide open and billowy curtains ripple in tune to your breathing. But the house itself, stately yet twisted, remains the same.

The mist lightly clears, showing your way to the front door, which opens without you even knocking. Inside the place is dark, save for a few lit candles. Looking around, you see the old hound dog resting in the bare space at the foot of the stares. He doesn’t lift his head, but his tail does begin wagging as you step inside.

There’s a haze about the place, one that hangs upon the rafters of the ceiling, wafting as you walk down the hallway. The incense scent reminds you of old woods and childhood packages. Inside the next room there is a large couch with lots of pillows, and a strange man laid upon it. His long hair drapes down over his face and shoulders, which he pushes back as you step into the room. A crooked smile adorns his face, alighting his bright yellow eyes.

“You’ve come back,” he holds out of hand of long, thin fingers, beckoning you to come closer. His skin is dark, a sort of blueish garnet shade, his nails are painted dark red. Coiled horns jut out from his temples, curling towards the ceiling and catching the haze.

“I thought it was time.” You held up the parcel to him, placing it in his hand.

He sat up from his lounged position and opened the brown paper. “Lets see what you;ve got for me this time.” He pulled out one of the bottles, looking over the hand written label. “A pumpkin ale? Isn’t this out of season?”

“I had some left over,” you said with a smirk.

He took out another bottle. “Chocolate brew, much more in season.” He took out another bottle. “Winter crisp,” his eyes flicked to you. “What does that mean?”

“It means it’s crisp and it’s winter.”

“Smart mouth,” he laughed and went back to rummaging through the bag. He pulled out the last bottle. “Demon’s Draught? For me?”

“Smart mouthed, remember?” You said, letting your smile grow.

The demon slinked from the couch and held his hand out to you. You took it, letting those long fingers curl around your palm. He tugged your hand forward, kissing your knuckles with a smirk upon his lips.

“I have the meal prepared already. I’ve been waiting on you.”

You leaned in, kissing his cheek. “That’s why I am here, Switch.”

#exophilia #momolady monsters

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black-cat-aoife · 7 months

Text

Tagged by @kathastrophen

Twenty Questions for Fic Writers

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

somehow I need to write words before typing the number 55 because otherwise this very functioning website fucks up the formatting

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

77,339

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Sad Cops The last ones were for Blind Ermittelt, Detective Anna, Endeavour and Polizeiruf Frankfurt.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

In Which Everybody Regrets Their Life Choices (Daredevil)

The Tale of the Beautiful Professor (Guardian)

Tee Mit Folgen (Tatort Berlin)

Adam, Vincent und die Eule (Polizeiruf Frankfurt)

A Sickbed Visitor (Society of Gentlemen)

OK, technically there's another Daredevil Fic on 2, but it's a collection of shorter fills for a prompt meme so does that count?

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes. I try to respond to all but occasionally fall in the "Oh yeah I will do that later" trap where I...y'know...don't do it.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I had a whole paragraph here, about how I don't usually write Angst and wanted to name a few sort-of-angsty ones, and then I remembered, that I did in fact write Never To Be Told which is very angsty.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

A lot, but Look Not Into My Eyes has a veeeery sappy ending.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

None yet

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Well, if you equate "crazy" with "nobody but me wrote it" then it's my Ein Fall For Zwei/Tatort Saarbrücken Crossover. But honestly: a crossover between two crime shows that feature abusive dads whose heads make sudden contact with blunt instruments and the resulting fallout from that is not particularly crazy. I also have this idea for a Blind Ermittelt/Allmen one, but as it's so often the case that's all vibes, no plot so far.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not as far as I know.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I once wanted to, and we even discussed some plot ideas, but then I got ghosted

14. What’s your all time favourite ship?

Yeah, Niko/Alex caught me like few others, but I also always will have a soft spot for Till/Felix

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Currently, I'm having a really hard time with my Alex & Sophie pre-canon fic, because it requires writing Alex shortly after the attack, and I am not sure if I can do that.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I think I'm quite good at character-voices, both in dialogue and when internal-monologuing

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Getting from one scene to the next. Also in dialogues the right amount of surrounding description. I tend to start off with a screenplay, and then turn it into character says one sentence, followed by three paragraphs of description.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I hate it. Either your POV character understands what is said, and then you can tell the audience what is being said, or they don't, and then you just write "they were talking in XY." Don't make me use Google Translate to understand your fic. And don't make me read phrases like heiße schokolade mit gepeitschter creme, because your foreign language knowledge also comes from Google Translate. (That is an example from an actually published book, but my feelings on that transcend the fanfic/pubfic barrier, and I also read enough bullshit in fanfic).

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Harry Potter. As in write-write. I don't think I ever wrote down any of the Sailor Moon self insert I made up.

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

Hmm I wrote A Sickbed Visitor with me as the target audience in mind, and considering that, I am quite happy that it also ended up being reasonably popular. Because this is the fanfiction for a romance series that doesn't feature one of the main couples but the friendship between two halves of different couples. (Yeah. Having fun writing something is nice. Validation is also nice)

And Es Wird Wieder ein Sommer is well...it's not the same, because it is an Alex/Niko fic, and I always meant it to be one, but it's also about Laura and her relationship with those two and that was lots of fun to think about and write.

No pressure tag for @cricrithings and @tatzelwyrm

#about aoife #on writing

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wisteriawilds · 25 days

Text

been thinking a lot recently about my latest dnd character (the brainrot is so real), so i wrote a little thing about her first meeting with her patron. everyone who decides to read this, meet evangeline ‘agency’ friloux, my tiefling barbarian/warlock absolute mess of a girl.

Cold. Hard. The feeling of hitting the ground ran like a shock through Evangeline before she had the chance to realize she was even falling. Pain. A twinge of blinding discomfort in her knee prevented her from standing back up immediately. How long had she been walking this time? It had to have been at least a day, maybe two. Time was something she no longer bothered to keep track of, not since the last time she’d been cast out. It didn’t matter anyway, there was no commitment she couldn’t miss nor person she needed to meet.

Hands planted firmly in the mud before her, Evangeline took a moment to breathe – or at least attempt to. She could feel the tenderness of the Earth, the softness of the mud that had yet to solidify. It was almost nice, almost comforting. Maybe she could stay here a while, take a moment to rest.

Shifting her weight to the uninjured leg, Evangeline settled further onto the ground. She barely noticed when the tears started flowing, more surprised that there were any left than of their appearance. There was a time in which she would reprimand himself for showing emotion so freely, afraid of the punishment that would be inflicted on her. At least in her current situation the only one who could punish her was herself – but boy, was she good at that. Her parents – if one would even call the myriad of failed guardians that – had taught her well. Silence was the only option, speaking out of turn would be dealt with immediately. Free will was simply an illusion to her; every choice she could remember having made was not her own to choose. Each time she was placed with another family, there was a second where she thought it could actually get better this time. And each time she was proven wrong. After running away six months ago, she vowed to never again have a family. They did more harm than good, she could take care of herself. What she didn’t dare admit, either out loud or to herself, was how desperately she wished for someone to care for her, to show her love and affection for the first time in her eight years of life.

A small glint of silver in the dirt between her fingers brought her attention away from her thoughts. What looked like the top of a circular band stuck out, barely visible in between the layers of Earth. Wiping away a stray tear, she struggled to brush the object free: a thin silver band with tarnished engravings she couldn’t quite make out. The new curiosity was more than enough to keep her mind at bay, the exhaustion taking the backburner for the moment. Without hesitation, she picked up the ring and slipped it onto her finger, the fit nearly perfect. It felt natural — almost too natural — on, like it was made just for her and her for it. There was a certain warmth to it, a sort of comfort she had longed for ever since she could remember. A smile spread across her face as she adjusted the ring to face front. It was quite a beautiful little thing, and it was all hers. Her first, and only, possession.

Burning. Fire. Heat. Smoke suddenly began to rise from the spot on her hand where the ring had rested on her finger, the once soothing warmth transforming into a blinding sensation of pure heat. Evangeline yelped, jumping to his feet before collapsing from the sheer pain of standing. The ring, sprung from his finger sometime during the onset of the burn, had fallen to the ground, now burning a circular hole into the earth. It burrowed deeper and deeper until all that remained visible was the growing column of smoke, so tall that it nearly reached the tops of nearby trees. Not a breeze in sight, the air felt overwhelmingly sultry as the temperature climbed a good ten degrees. Beads of sweat pouring down her face, Evangeline fought the urge to lose consciousness. It was a hard-pressed battle to win, yet she persisted. As the spots of black faded from her vision, the smoke appeared to take on the form of something almost… human like? It couldn’t be. She had to be hallucinating, there was no possibility of a sentient cloud of smoke.

As if determined to prove Evangeline wrong, the gaseous form solidified into a very strange looking woman. She could’ve been a tiefling if one were to squint, but there was some otherworldly air to her that set her in a world of her own. The woman nodded curtly at Evangeline, striding over to her and extending a hand.

“Hello, child.” Her voice boomed, channeling the forces of the fading flames into a resounding, powerful tone. Red hair flowed nearly down to her shoulders, wild and untamed, with crimson-pink ears pointing through the curls. Evangeline couldn’t help but notice how scarred the woman’s face was, — mirroring that of her own — and how the indentations and disturbed tissue seemed to add to her beauty. I wish my scars were beautiful, Evangeline thought.

Shakily extending a hand, Evangeline stepped within arm’s reach. “Who… are you?” she asked, feeling the heat transfer to her skin when the pair touched.

The woman smiled gently at Evangeline, kneeling to better match her height. “My name is Idalia. I’ve had my eyes on you for a while now, Evangeline.” Idalia placed her other hand on top of Evangeline’s, squeezing gently in attempted reassurance.

Evangeline’s eyes widened at the use of her name, her tremor expanding to the entirety of her arms. Determined to not show her fear, she steadied herself and looked confidently into Idalia’s eyes. “You know my name. Clearly you know who I am, things about me, my family — families — I’d guess. What do you want from me?”

“The question is what do you want from me, dear,” Idalia replied, a sweet dulcetness seeping into her voice. “You’ve gone through so much for such a young child, and I wanted to lend a helping hand. What is it you desire?”

Pulling her hands away, Evangeline stepped back and crossed her arms, a small scoff escaping her lips. Nobody ever asked her what she wanted, and if they did, it was never with good intentions. “Nothing, if it’s coming from you.” She turned away from Idalia, taking two steps in the opposite direction before something stopped her in her place.

Panic. Feet planted firmly on the floor, try as she might, Evangeline could not take a step. Something — someone, rather, — was keeping her still, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out that someone was Idalia. Her heart was nearly beating out of her chest, the anxiety threatening to bubble over any second. She couldn’t let her see that, though. Weakness was not accepted. Ever. Evangeline took a deep breath, feeling her lungs expand and contract. “I take it that was the wrong answer,” she called over her shoulder. “Release me, and I promise I’ll hear you out. I’d like to at least see your face when you threaten me next time.��

After what felt like an eternity of silence, Evangeline felt the pressure around her legs fade and her freedom return. She turned to face Idalia, as promised, mustering up the angriest, most threatening face she could manage. “What do you want from me?”

Shrill laughter filled the air, the sound more fear-inducing than even the holding spell. “You really are just a child, aren’t you? Pity. I had thought you smarter than that. Someone should have taught you how to recognize nobility when you see them, girl. To treat them with some respect.”

Now it was Evangeline’s turn to laugh. A cheery, mocking giggle matched the leering smirk on her face, the fear dissipating as soon as the woman opened her mouth. “And I thought you were smarter than to think mere words would inflict fear upon me. Nothing you nor anybody else says to me is going to cause me any pain. Not anymore. I’m not afraid of you, Idalia.”

There was such venom imbued into her name that Idalia couldn’t help but take a step back, overwhelmed with the sheer viciousness of such a small girl. It took only a few seconds for her to regain her composure, after which she rationed a more direct approach was necessary to get through to the child. “I see. How about I just get straight to it then? You are a poor, lost little soul, wandering from forest to forest in desperate search of enough nourishment and shelter to make it another week. You have no worldly possessions, no place to call home, no family to love you. You have nothing. You are nothing. And I am offering to change that. To give you a family, people who will show you care and affection for the first time in your entire life. No more will you collapse from exhaustion after days of walking, nor will you be kicked out by foster families who offered false promises of their undying adoration. I can grant you true happiness, if only you allow it.” Idalia laughed, eyes narrowed to glare harshly at Evangeline. “Now, fearful one, do you want a family or not? I’m not in the habit of making offers twice.”

Choking back a sob, Evangeline closed the distance between her and Idalia. Gently reaching a hand out, she stood on her tiptoes to reach out and brush her fingertips over the ‘X’ shaped scar on Idalia’s nose. The woman recoiled instantly, surprised by the tenderness of her touch. Evangeline held her contact, refusing to let the woman pull away. “You’re like me, aren’t you?” Evangeline asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “Someone broke you too. I’m sorry.”

Idalia’s eyes filled with tears, the emotion overpowering any remaining malice she harbored towards Evangeline. She reached out and touched Evangeline’s brand, the three horizontal black lines charred deep into her flesh. It was the mark of prisoners who had been sent to Carta, a place reserved for those who committed only the most heinous of crimes. One mark per conviction, placed prominently enough the whole of Noven would notice and avoid them at all costs. Three marks, like the brand Evangeline bore, was the worst of them all. Only the worst of the worst, the scourges of the continent, received three marks. Done with remarkable precision, the brands were designed to last a lifetime, no matter how long that may be. Evangeline’s brands, however, upon closer inspection by Idalia, appeared slightly crooked, like someone had attempted to recreate them. Realization dawned upon her at once, and she cupped her hands around the child’s face. “Who did this to you?”

Her fingertips felt like razor blades running along Evangeline’s brand, every touch sending a shiver of pain through her face. The wounds had never completely healed, likely the result of the depravity of their infliction’s methodology. The pain had faded since they were first carved into her nine years ago, but from time to time they flared up with renewed vigor. She tried to forget how tender they still were, pushing the pain to the back of her mind so she could think clearly. “My… parents,” Evangeline answered, the word feeling strange and bitter on her tongue. “They couldn’t comprehend how a pure, human family like themselves could have a monster for a child, so they made sure everyone else would know the devil I am.” She laughed, brushing off their cruelty for a mere fact of life.

“You’re not a devil,” Idalia immediately interjected. “Nor are you a monster.” She tucked a piece of hair behind Evangeline’s ear before lowering herself onto the ground, motioning for Evangeline to sit next to her. She held her in gentle silence as she cried, finally letting out all the emotions she’d kept bottled in for the entirety of her ten-year lifespan. It was decided: she would protect this child, give her the family she not only yearned for but deserved.

Evangeline sniffled, crying softly into Idalia’s shoulder after settling down in the dirt next to her. Maybe this strange woman wasn’t so bad, after all. “Neither are you, Idalia. You’re not a monster at all.” No response came, but she could see the tears falling across the woman's face, eyes filled with emotion. Once there were no more tears to shed, Evangeline sat up to face Idalia, a question forming on her lips: “Will you tell me what you wanted from me now?”

Sighing, Idalia nodded and shifted to look Evangeline in the eyes. “It is part of my job to fulfill the desires of others. It involves a sort of exchange between myself and the other party: I grant your wish, you agree to a set of terms I’ve laid forth. Such is the offer I wanted to extend to you, though I do admit the terms I’d propose have changed significantly since meeting you.” Taking another deep breath, she steadied herself for her final proposal. “So, with that information in hand, I’ll ask one more time: What is it you desire?”

Unsure quite what to make of this, Evangeline sat quietly, pondering whether there was anything she desired strongly enough to agree to a deal with Idalia. “Honestly? Nothing. Nothing other than a real family, though I gave up on that dream a long time ago.”

With a flick of her hand, Idalia conjured a piece of parchment and a pen. She smiled gently at Evangeline, holding the parchment out to her. “If a family is what you desire, I can provide it. The terms of our arrangement are written here– I think they’re quite reasonable. Take some time, read it over, let me know what you think.” Idalia waited for Evangeline to take the parchment before standing to leave, heading far enough away to remain in sight, but out of earshot.

Despite their less than amicable beginning, Idalia’s word was true: the terms of her proposed pact were quite reasonable. In exchange for Evangeline’s placement with a suitable family, she would help Idalia in her future endeavors. While the wording wasn’t necessarily too specific, Evangeline could tell it was written with pure intentions… she hoped. Either way, taking this deal seemed infinitely better than her current reality of hopelessly wandering the forests and scrounging up scraps that barely constitute a meal for a small child, let alone a growing preteen. She took one last glance at the small, looping handwriting before walking over to Idalia and gently tapping her on the shoulder.

“I’ll sign,” Evangeline murmured, avoiding making direct eye contact with her soon-to-be patron. She shifted slightly on her feet, trying to distract from the significance of the situation. “Are you sure you want to do this?” Idalia asked, lowering herself to better be on face-level. “I am not going to force you into anything you do not want to do. You are welcome to tell me no.” Smiling slightly, Evangeline grabbed the pen from Idalia’s hand and signed her name, hands shaking at a steady rhythm. “I’m sure. I want this.”

#dnd #writeblr #my writing #noven #wisteriawrites #evangeline friloux #she’s just a girl in a blender #dnd character #dnd5e #dnd writing #dnd oc #szereban webber family

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sylleblosscm · 1 year

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@galahdborn:

“ in my arms. “

---

Hug Time [accepting]

Luna's days within Insomnia are peaceful, but she is not blind to the state of things. Having the Shield for a guardian has put her in proximity to Insomnia's defenders; since childhood, she has watched them leave optimistic, and return haggard and fewer.

She loiters just beyond the doorway where the Glaives are readying themselves to return home, and though this is no place for a Princess, nobody calls her on it.

Nyx is amongst the last to leave. She cannot help her special fondness for this Glaive: she already has such a soft spot for the refugees, for she has far more in common with them than the city's sheltered citizenry; and Ulric has an especially unique way of managing her presence. He is always polite, as anyone would be to her - but he is honest, too. If she is sarcastic, he will be sarcastic. If she says something foolish, he will roll his eyes at her. It's a blessed relief from those who are so frightened of offending her, they can scarecely say anything at all.

Her excuses to cross paths with him have become weaker over time, as she's simply run through her best. But she keeps up the pretense, lest rumours spiral. She is a foreign Princess, a beloved Oracle - she would remain untarnished. It is him she fears for. She watches as Nyx readies himself to leave, only speaking up once they are the last two people in the room.

❝I have this tutor,❞ she begins quietly. ❝He tells me I am far too transparent for my own good. That my political discourse shall suffer, if I cannot learn to be a better liar. It's quite a cruel thing to say, right? I am--I'm quite devastated.❞

This actually happened three years ago. Luna wasn't upset then, and she isn't upset now. But she sounds it, staring just past Nyx so he cannot look in her eyes - because there is truth to be found here. She's an awful liar. And Nyx is a good solider. He will not tell of the horrors of war, or the nightmares that follow. Not even if she asked. He will smile at her, and wink, and make a pointed comment about how heroes never get scared, or something to that effect. And it will do little to ease her worry.

It is in seeking comfort that Luna hopes to give it. She settles on the worn lether sofa and puts her arms around him, a hand moving to rub his back. ❝You should say it too. That it's cruel, and pointless. And--and that nobody deserves to go through that.❞

#( *nudges a slightly bolder and more gremlin-y luna your way* )#galahdborn��#answered;#⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ – v: au: can i dream for a few months more? / insomnia #⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ – always try to be nice; never fail to be kind / ic

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bibblelevi · 2 years

Note

i’ve had your sub angel!levi in my head since your first drabble i just ugh—

making him cum from just wing stimulation alone, or like dripping black candle wax onto them just UGH YES fuck this concept has me in a choke hold

Subby angel Levi is my new niche obsession. I am so in love with the concept and want to write everything under the sun about him.

Guardian Angel! Levi Ackerman x F! Reader

Warnings for Submissive Levi, bondage, gag, blindfold, wax play, nipple clamps, pain play, cock bondage, orgasm delay, ruined orgasm, wing play, overstimulation, crying

Levi looks gorgeous like this, but you think he’s wired to be beautiful.

Black ropes wound around his ankles and thighs pin them together, the plump skin squishing out from the tension of the knots. His arms are comfortably bound behind him, horizontal, and the rest of him is on perfect display. A cloth secured over his eyes blinds him from your antics, a matching one woven through his teeth, ensuring his silence.

So far, he’s been obedient. You know he likes to make you proud. You know he likes to hear how good he is despite the blank expressions and steely glances.

You have his cock in your hands, but you’re not stroking him. You have to physically repress the urge, especially with how hard he is, and how much he’s leaking already. Besides, you’re busy. Rope is wrapped around his base, then around his balls, squeezing them until they’re round and dark. You pass it around his shaft, using up the rest of length before knotting a bow. He moans when you finish, shifting on the bed, daring to close his thighs together for some stimulation.

“You naughty boy,” you chide him, a smile in your voice.

For now, you let him chase the beginning licks of arousal. He’s riling himself up, doing a wonderful job, and you’re waiting for the moment he realizes he won’t find his release so soon. He’ll realize he’s utterly helpless, at your mercy, that you’re the only person in the world capable of making him feel good. Has he ever been fully reliant on another person? Or has he always had to take the lead, in everything? Maybe that’s why he looks at you with such indifference, because he’s never known anything else.

You run your hands over his thighs, relishing in the buttery texture of the rope and the softness of his skin. He huffs harshly through his nose, shaking beneath your skilled hands.

“It’s okay,” you murmur. You reach up and rub your thumb over his cheek, and he eases back into the mattress, tension melted away by a few strokes. “There we go. Just relax, angel.”

You wait until he’s breathing regularly, until he’s still and waiting patiently for more. “Good boy,” you offer praise, and he exhales once again. “You look fucking beautiful right now, Levi. So, so beautiful.”

Your hands stroke up and down the soft muscles of his belly, up to his chest, firm yet still malleable. His nipples pebble from all the attention, standing taut, and you reach for the next thing.

“You’re going to feel a pinch, okay?” you warn him. “Remember what we discussed?”

He nods, holding his breath. When the teeth of the first clamp encloses around his nipple, his chest sinks in. You repeat on the other side, tightening the clamps, before lifting the connecting chain with one finger. The metal appears menacing on the body of someone you’ve always seen as pure and innocent. His cock bobs, spilling more precum on his pelvis. You smirk.

“I’m going to take them off in a bit,” you say. “It looks like you like them. You’re dripping from the pain.”

His wings are spread beneath him, massive and fluffy and delicate-looking. You stroke with your fingertips at the spot diagonal form his shoulder, tracing the grooves, scratching gently. Levi pants and twists in his restraints, his hips lifting from bed. You stroke with more fervor, until the first muffled whine sounds, then you switch sides, experimenting until you’re certain you’ve rediscovered the spots.

“You could cum like this, couldn’t you? From me touching your wings?” You apply more pressure, his legs snapping closed once again, no doubt trying to find more stimulation elsewhere. The ropes around his cock are a maddening, consistent tease on top of your wandering fingers. “You’re going to have to cum this way, because I couldn’t be bothered to take that rope off your cock. It looks too pretty trussed up like that.”

He moans quietly into the gag, his cheeks red. You give his balls a proper squeeze and watch his abdominals contract.

You let him adjust for a moment, assembling the rest of your tools. You grab the skinny black candle and light the wick, watching and waiting for the wax to begin melting. Once the first bead begins to roll down, you hold the candle over his chest.

The first drop lands near his nipple, and Levi jolts, pulling at his restraints. At first it’s white-hot, but then it’s cold-like (how can something be both?). The skin tightens underneath the drop, warmth spreading through, followed by a dull sting. He breathes hard and whimpers into the gag.

“Okay?” you ask, petting his hair.

He nods.

You smile, “Good boy,” then turn the candle, more droplets of black wax splashing his pale skin. He squirms and whimpers, the hardening wax cracking and crumbling with any abrasive movement. You cover his stomach and navel, sparing a few droplets over his thighs. You decide to spare his cock. It’s already suffering enough, hard as a rock, untouched. His balls are tinted purple, his tip pink and leaking arousal.

“You have my permission to cum,” you say, relighting the candle. You hold it over his wing, over that special spot he loves to be touched. “But only like this—“

And then, the wax falls onto his wing, clinging to him. He shudders, full-on whining, his head thrown to the side. His bound legs come together, thighs rubbing his swollen balls. You dig your palm into his pelvis to hold him still and watch the chain connecting the clamps sway.

More wax clumps together on his wings, and tears escape the blindfold, soaking his cheeks. Around the gag, his lips are puffy and bright pink, and he’s shaking all over, unabashedly thrusting having never known such stimulation.

He finally begins to plead a little into the gag, shy at first, not used to having to beg.

“What was that? I don’t quite understand what you said. You want more—?” You continue on the other side, and he arches, the notch in his throat bobbing.

Then, white sputters from his cock head, leaking over and staining the black ropes, painting his cock and tummy. He’s still half hard, still struggling in his restraints.

“Oh, baby, that was adorable. Did you really just cum?” You blow out the candle and wait for it to cool before setting it down, your fingers gathering his release. “Just a little?”

He mewls, pushing his cock towards you, and finally, you relent, taking him into your palm. He keens from the overstimulation, but braves through it nonetheless.

“Good boy. You’re gonna come again for me, okay?”

He nods, taking it.

#levi ackerman smut #levi smut #levi ackerman x reader smut #aot smut #snk smut #aot x reader smut

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zelphin124 · 11 months

Text

A lesson about Destruction: pt 2

The Story behind the photo

Error!Sans belongs to CrayonQueen

Ink!Sans belongs to Comyet

Iro!Sans belongs to me

Scene below 👇

"I cannot let a creation like you have so much power."

Iro was flung back across the AU from Ink's brush. She skirted across the dirt and came to an abrupt stop. All of her bones ached. The spots on her head grew darker with anger. She glanced at the guardian with fury in her eyes, trying to hide the immense pain boiling in her chest. "I thought you were my friend!"

"You were never my friend," Ink's empty white eyes pierced her soul. "You destroyed your AU, I cannot let you destroy others."

"It was not my fault!" Iro exclaimed, standing up and grabbing her two katanas. "I had to! You wouldn't understand!"

"I understand enough," Ink lunged for Iro. He fought her katanas with his large brush, blinding her with paint. "You should have listened to your brother Papyrus when he told you never to use the DESTROY button."

Iro blocked each of his attacks the best she could, but the eerie reality settled within her; she wasn't going to make it out of this fight alive. Rage and grief overwhelmed her as she pushed Ink back. She wasted no time to pull out the RESET button. Its yellow transparent screen reflected back on her face. Surely she could talk some sense into Ink if she just RESET to a moment earlier. Surely no harm would come in that. She didn't have much time to press it before Ink came at her again.

But it did nothing.

Iro was flung back once more. She became paralyzed with shock and barely avoided Ink's next attack. Why didn't the button work? It worked for everyone she tried... Why did it not RESET Ink? Did she miss? Surely his soul would have responded~

He didn't have a soul. Of course. Now she had to live with the mistake she made of informing Ink of her past.

"Last chance. Give up your power to DESTROY, TIME, RESET, CREATE, IMAGINE, and OVERWRITE, and I'll spare you." Ink snarled, emotion was far from his mind.

Iro clung to her chest as the paint tightened around her. Her left eye glowed a soft blue. She wasn't about to give her power to a soulless being who wouldn't even let her explain what happened to her AU. "These powers were given to me! People in my AU had them! I won't let you take them~"

She was cut off when dozens of blue strings wrapped around Ink's hands, making him drop his brush. Ink couldn't react in time as he was flung across the AU. He smashed into many buildings and into the ground. The guardian didn't move, groaning in pain.

Iro couldn't believe her eyes. Those strings... It can't be-

Error popped through a glitch portal, disconnecting his strings from the artist. The destroyer glanced at Iro. "YoU'rE wELcOmE, i-i-idIoT. NoW GEt ouT Of H-heRe bEfOre hE cOmES bACk!"

He opened a portal next to her. Her feet felt like cement. She couldn't seem to process everything that had happened. Ink's betrayal, flashbacks to IroTale, and Error saving her. What kind of upside down world was this? Ink trying to destroy her and Error saving her was not like them at all... At least to what she knew about them. Why had Error saved her? Why was he here? She tried to thank Error, but the pain in her chest cut her off.

"M-MoVe, MoRO-On!" Error's voice pierced her ears before she felt blue strings wrap around her own hands. The next thing she knew, she was in a white void.

It wasn't completely white; there were blue strings scattered across the non-existent ceiling. Some of the strings held small hearts that glitched in and out. There was a darker shade along the horizon. Iro turned a 180 to find a small beanbag and a TV behind her. She desperately tried to see anything else there, but there was not much more to observe. It was so empty and cold. It reminded Iro of a void. Of a destroyed past.

A destroyed AU like hers.

Her hands started to shake, although the previous rage against Ink had vanished. In fact, she felt no emotion at all. She felt her white tears drip down her face, however she couldn't pinpoint why she was crying. What was there to cry about? She had experienced every type of pain already, there was no need to be sad about anything else. Yet, she couldn't stop the shining water from falling down her bone cheeks.

Maybe Ink was right. It felt wrong to have all this power. She could entirely OVERWRITE, CREATE, or DESTROY an AU at her will, but she never wanted to. She hated every alteration she had ever tried, so she avoided using them. It's not like she abused her powers. She mainly just used the IMAGINE button to make up friends that would talk with her. But how could she ever finalize the friends? Wouldn't they betray her just like Asgore did? Iro had all this power, and yet she refused to use it. Was that wrong? Should she have given them up? She wasn't going to ever give them up to In , but should she give them up to someone else? It wasn't like she was the only one... Her entire AU could IMAGINE and CREATE, and some could DESTROY before they all died by Asgores hands...

A glitched portal appeared by her side. Error stepped through, rubbing his head before cursing. "T-ThaT sTuPiD S-S-SquID! I h-haTe hIM So-sO MuCh!"

The tears stopped. The grief and anger of Ink's betrayal came flooding back. She never could cry when she felt emotion. She only could cry when she felt nothing at all, and it annoyed the heck out of her.

"Error-" Iro stopped herself as Error snapped a pitiful and rage-filled look at her. She put away her swords and bowed her head. "Thank you... for saving me."

"D-DOn'T a-a-assOcIATe wItH InK aNyMorE," he snapped. "A-AnD I d-dOn'T nEeD yOUr t-t-thAnKS, I-I-Iro."

Error saying her name made her stomach turn, making her nauseous. She nodded and sat on the ground. The spots on her hands started to grow again. Had she done something she regretted already? Why did they get more intense?

Error turned around and sat down in front of Iro. With a flick of his wrist, a bright red heart came tumbling down in front of Iro. It was tied with his blue strings and wasn't beating anymore. Iro stared at the heart of DETERMINATION for a long time, mesmerized by its beauty.

"PrOvE i-iT."

Iro stared at the destroyer. "What?"

"IdIo-oT," Error slapped his head. "PrOvE t-tO mE yOu c-can dEsTrOY. D-DesTrOY tHis h-h-eArt."

Why would Error want to destroy DETERMINATION? It didn't make sense to her. Heck, none of this made sense to her. Iro had many questions, but something told her that Error wouldn't be willing to answer any of them.

"Do yOu t-thiNK I-I-I jUsT SaVeD yOuR w-w-wOrThLesS lIfe jUsT beCAuSe I cOUlD? D-D-DeStRoY iT."

Iro didn't want to protest any longer. She was a follower after all, and she was disobeying her orders. Iro pressed the red gem in her chest to reveal the DESTROY button. Hovering it over the red heart, she tapped it.

The heart shattered into a trillion pieces. Its components flew in every direction as the code got smaller and smaller until it could be seen no more. Not even DETERMINATION could resist the complete wiping of code.

Error nodded slowly, removing the string that once held the heart back to who knows where. He stared at Iro for a long time.

Iro started to get uncomfortable with the silence. Heck, she was uncomfortable around any other Sans. Could Error tell she was a female? Why was he staring at her? What did he want from her? This wasn't the first time Error had used the silence to his manipulative advantage towards her. Her fingers fidgeted with each other as she stared at the ground, not saying a word. At least it's better than being with Ink I guess...

"I h-hAvE a pRo-opOsiTion fOr y-y-yOu." The destroyer stood up and glanced down at Iro. "W-WoRk fOR mE tO m-m-maKe AUs w-worTHwHiLE oR De-DesTrOY thEm alToGeTGer, aNd I'lL pRoTeCT yOu fRoM tHat S-S-SquID."

Iro immediately accepted in her heart, but her mind held her back. A different anxiety rose within her. Working for Error, was that even possible? She figured she would have to spend a ton more time around him if she accepted. If there was one thing that she didn't want to deal with, it was Error's tantrums. Could she befriend the destroyer? It seemed impossible with his emotional instability.

But it was worth a try.

"I accept." Iro interrupted Errors upcoming retort. She smiled at herself. "It might even be fun, who knows, we might become friends in the process."

Error held in a laugh. "K-KeEp dReAmInG K-Kid." He pulled out a blue string from his eye and tossed it to her. "U-Use ThIs to CoN-NtaCT me. dO n-noT gO bAck on y-yoUR wOrD."

"You know me, Error," Iro shrugged, unable to comprehend what all happened that day. "I never break my promises."

#undertale #undertale au #ink sans #ink!sans #oc #oc stuff #sans au #IroTale #iro!sans #iro sans #error!sans #error sans #anti void #utmv fanfic #error utmv #utmv #utmv sans #utmv oc #Don't expect good writing from me at this hour :3

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mari-lair · 1 year

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do you have any lore behind the designs you did for Aoi and Akane in the demon and angel au because you said Aoi was a bug type demon?

(the designs: Here)

I do! :D

Aoi is a monster that rarely leaves her lair, which is a huge underground labyrinth, she is blind in bright places, so her home is total darkness. Isolated from it all. She knows almost everything, what her bugs see above, she too can see. She is not lonely exactly, but she can get bored quickly, so she occasionally lures people in to play with them.

At first, she hoarded tons of gold and gems to use as lure, but nowadays her mere existence seems to be enough to make people want to find her, intrigued by this supposedly breathtakingly beautiful creature that resides in complete darkness.

She is very strange but kind, in her own way. She has a soft spot for humans, can help them even, but only if she likes the individual, if she doesn't, she’ll turn her visitor into food for her favorite bugs. She's usually very helpful, and mysterious, so many humans created legends about her, worshiping her. She was a creature as feared as she was loved.

Teru is the head of a very important church, an angel chosen to look after this city until it died. Every city gets assigned a guardian angel that chose a human to become its leader, protecting the city while the chosen human improves themselves.

Akane is who Teru chose to train, they have grown closer with time. Too close. There has been an increase in tension over time because Teru fell in love, which is forbidden for an angel, so he has been more distant, trying to keep it professional, and put himself on a figurative leash.

Akane thinks the tension is his fault. He likes teru, have for a while, and it isn’t the devotion he sees in his fellow priest's eyes, it isn't sweet: He knows Teru will go away soon, and he can't let that happen. He wants to keep the angel to himself even after his training is done, clip his wings so Teru can't get back to heaven, which is an act of heresy.

Akane doesn't want to hurt Teru though, so he toys with the idea every time the angel let him touch his wings, itching to break his halo when he hears Teru talk about how much he'll miss this place when he's gone, but he always fight down this destructive urge. He still has time, after all, no need to take Teru's wings away so soon.

Teru has never been the purest of angels, many of his actions falling on the 'bad' spectrum, but he wasn't tainted because he didn't sin. Greed? He had no goals, he follows his duties. Sloth? Never, he works hard. Gluttony?Wrath? No. Lust? Angels don't feel any sexual attraction to anything, that's never a problem. Envy? Yes, but he have learned to control it, so it wasn't a problem. Pride? It was his big weakness, but he drank a bottle of holy water every night to keep himself 'clean'.

After he fell in love he started to be greedy too, very very greedy. That's two great sins, more than a creature as holy as an angel is capable of bearing. Teru can't wash it away with holy water anymore, if he tries, his throat will burn, it's extremely painful.

When Teru notice one of his wings was turning grey he panicked, knowing he had to do his duty quickly if he don’t want to be caught, but wanting to linger around for as much as possible. His greed (which was a relatively new feeling, so he wasn't used to it) won in the end, and he tried to find a way to be healthy again and continue his mission without a hitch.

He eventually resorted to black magic to heal himself, arrogant enough to think he could do it with enough preparations and protection. It doesn't work, he drastically accelerates his corruption and nearly knocks himself out, both from physical pain and feeling overwhelmed by new, less pure, feelings and thoughts. He is ashamed of himself, even if he trusts Akane to try to help him, demoniac and all, he doesn't want to be seen, not like this, so he runs away and hides.

Akane had noticed the occasional grey feather, he pays more attention to Teru than anyone, but he never expected Teru to disappear overnight. He can’t find him anywhere and he doesn’t know what to do. He assumes he went back to heaven, which leaves a bad taste in his mouth, and he feels a mix of horrified and selfishly relieved to learn he has fallen, he is still on earth. So Akane goes on a mad hunt for him.

Without any concrete leads, Akane follows the rumor of an underground queen that sees all. He prepares himself with holy water and a lantern to guide him in the pitch darkness, not that hopeful (Akane utterly despises demons, he doesn’t trust that this one will be ‘nice’) but desperate enough to accept any help he could.

Aoi thinks he is too aggressive with her cute bugs, impatient, rude, and very arrogant. She would have destroyed him, if she wasn't interested in his story, having rarely seen angels be corrupted or priest venture down her lair.

She can't deny there was something nice about how honest Akane is. It was fun to see him try to be respectful and try not to curse her for being a demon since he need her help, but fail spectacularly. She stays out of his view, giving him purposely vague advice, promising she'll help him if he can keep her entertained for 1 day.

He agrees, only realizing later it's impossible to tell when it's day or night in her underground cave, hating the "you'll just have to trust me~" she gives him.

His lantern goes out after 4 hours and he becomes completely blind, which is when Aoi gets comfortable enough to approach and properly talk to and study him. She does start to like him quickly enough, and decides to help him, but she doesn’t tells him that, taking full advantage of this deal of theirs. She doesn't even try to hide that she's studying him like he's a peculiar toy, giving him riddles and philosophic questions with no clear answers, and freaking him out by inviting him to dance when she knows he can't see shit, much less keep up with her four arms. She finds it endearing how much he panics when she steals his glasses, even though they are useless in here.

Aoi rarely sleep, so she did not let Akane sleep through the night, wanting him to keep her entertained. It's hard but surprisingly... Not dangerous. For a demon, she was entertained by very mundane, if a bit annoying, things. And when a day passed, the bug demon did her part of the deal and let him out, giving him a moth she swore would guide him to Teru and personally guiding him to the edges of her tunnel, but not enough for sunlight to sneak in and make her visible.

Aoi respected their deal, so Akane respects her wish to remain hidden in the shadows, promising to himself to get her a gift if her moth actually leads him to teru

(Part 2)

#tbhk #terukane #aoikane #angels and demons au #i am weak for this kind of aus #long post

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solitaryandwandering · 1 year

Text

Tag 9 people you want to get to know better.

Thank you so much for tagging me again in one of these @waitmyturtles, they're so fun to do!!

Three Ships

Suffering from some recency bias and don't really think in terms of "ships" anymore so I turned to my CHEMISTRY list on MDL to help... agonized over my choices and finally picked:

TinnGun/GunTinn (My School President) - they're just too wonderful. So sweet, and it's great to see a show embrace embarrassing teen crush behavior in a gay kid without making it weird. Tinn's BL-trope filled daydreams had me in stitches. Almost chose PatPran but that's too easy, I have to honor their successors!

Seo Joon x Ji Woo (To My Star) - love them so much. Relate way too much to Ji Woo and them together? So heartwarming. Despite some of the contrivance of their typical Kdrama split in season 2 I still love the way they reconcile and work their shit out.

Hira x Kiyoi (Utsukushii Kare/My Beautiful Man) - talk about recency bias, I'm currently watching season 2 and couldn't resist putting them here. They're just SO well-written. Accurate portrayal of the long-term effects of C-PTSD and the messiness of miscommunication sans lazy writing? Sign me up!!

First Ship

Romione (Harry Potter series) - I know, I know, don't @ me but I still have a soft spot for them despite everything

Last Song

Woof Woof (Live Version) - SHINee

Last Movie

Shake! Otis at Monterey (1987; dir. D.A. Pennebaker)

Currently Reading

Nothing much, honestly. Beginning of the year was HECTIC but hopefully March will give me some time to read. The fanfiction I have open in a tab on my phone is "honey, let me show you where your heart is" by sarahyyy. Cute Guardian one-shot!

Currently Watching

Guardian

Utsukushii Kare (Season 2)

I Promised You the Moon (finally on Viki so I'll be starting this soon!)

Moonlight Chicken - I decided to wait until this was over to watch to preserve my mental health. Despite my love/respect for Aof's work I am very very wary when any show or film either exclusively or in part centers around a story which heavily involves disability. In some ways this apprehension is similar to my aversion to sad endings in LGBTQ+ stories (unless it's earned!). Been burned WAY too much fictionally and IRL. 2023 seemingly is the year Aof decided to make shows about my two most central disabilities, deafness and blindness (Last Twilight even tackles someone LOSING their sight, seriously, Aof? What do you have against me?). Heart's story looks like it's being done responsibly/well (or well enough, considering this is the first of its kind in the genre, maybe Thailand as a whole?) so I am excited to jump into it soon!!

On that note, I plan on writing along with each episode my thoughts on Heart's storyline vis-à-vis Deaf representation. Commentary on his arc has been surprisingly decent especially amongst the people I follow (I knew I chose well) but the tendency to overly pity or infantilize him along with a general misunderstanding of Deafness made me realize I don't think I'll be able to keep my mouth shut when I watch, so. Keep an eye out for that if you're interested. Thai Sign Language was developed in part from ASL (ergo, part of the same language family) so I'm also planning to dive into what I've learned about the language and its similarities! :)

Currently Consuming

Leftover Thai food my best friend foisted on me, I forget what it's called but it's some kind of thick rice noodle dish. Very good!!

Currently Craving

Motivation, sleep, an end to the anxiety which has been plaguing me since the beginning of the year, better glasses. Ice cream sounds good too.

TAGS! No pressure!

I have no idea who to tag, so just flying by the seat of my pants here: @squeakygeeky, @absolutebl, @shesarealphony, @lesbianlovestay, @cinematicnomad, @i-just-wanted-hyphens, @bulkhummus, @anonyma13, @stillqueerstillhere

#it's me #moonlight chicken #tag game

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