#he is a victim of circumstance just as much as the creature is and that is what makes the whole thing so tragic!!!!!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

akutasoda · 17 days

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For the 1k event can I request angst hcs with the demon bros with a fem mc whos a fallen angel but with mauled wings? Like we’re talking loose feathers and flesh sticking out bonus if they randomly met her in the forest

bloody damnation

synopsis - when they meet a fallen angel in unfortunate circumstance

includes - lucifer, mammon, leviathan, satan, asmodeus, beelzebub, belphegor

warnings - fem!reader (no pronouns), heavy angst, very little comfort, body horror???, lots of blood, wc - 1.8k

lucifer ★↷

↪as part of his brotherly duties, he had to go search the forest out back of the house of lamentation when one of his brothers ran inside claiming there was some 'horrid monster' lurking. creatures in the devildom normally didn't stray as close to the house so he immediately knew something was up.

↪although maybe he would've preferred you to have been 'a horrid monster' purely for the reason of the awkward situation you have placed him in. it's one thing to find some demon or creature with mangled parts, it was another to find an angel - or the reamins of one.

↪your once beautiful, silken wings lay crumpled and tangled in a mess behind you. he could practically smell the blood, see it too as it stained the grass beneath you and soon covered by the white feathers that turned darker as they hit the ground.

↪for obvious reasons, lucifer reluctantly brought (snuck) you into the house and hid you in his room until he managed to get hold of diavolo to sort out your situation. however he knew he couldn't just leave your wings in such a state, it looked like it hurt and he couldn't imagine they'd heal prettily if left like that.

↪he once had beautiful wings, some say he still does. so he knew how important keeping wings in a good condition was and so he managed to convince you to let him provide a basic, temporary solution to your wings. he hardly wanted to know what happened for you to fall let alone fall and end up with your wings in such a condition so he remained silent.

↪bu the time diavolo arrived, lucifer had performed basic healing magic and bandaged your wings to allow the membranes to heal inside your wing. he could think more clearly about the situation of having a fallen angel in the devildom knowing your pain had been limited for now.

mammon ★↷

↪mammon had decided to sneak out again and somehow lucifer found out and was actively searching for him. so he decided that sneaking through the dense forrests on the outskirts would be a good way to avoid lucifer and sneak back in - hopefully convincing lucifer he'd never left.

↪the smell of iron hit his nose and made him stop in his tracks. it dawned on him that he had no idea where he really was and so his mind decided that the blood was because some vile creature was feasting nearby - maybe he'd become the next victim? but when nothing showed signs of appearing, he kept moving forward until he halted at the sight of the blood.

↪he never knew there could be so much blood in one place. the grass was practically a sea of crimson and i the middle was a brutal mess of white that covered what appeared to be a body. mammon felt sick to his stomach at the sight, especially the bits of flesh that clung to your feathers like parasites.

↪now mamon was greedy, he could save himself from your sorry sight and leave or he could do something for you. fortunately mammon could be more kind that greedy at times so when he finally realised just what you were or used to be, he knew he couldn't just leave you to bleed out on the forest floor of unfamiliar territory.

↪he didn't mind recieving a scolding from lucifer when he emerged from his hiding, mainly because lucifer was too stunned to see you in his brother's arms as mammon asked for him to help you. mammon knew how scary it was to fall, he helped his brother and now he wants to help you.

leviathan ★↷

↪it was a well known fact that levi spent most of his days locked inside his room. he barely went outside unless it was for RAD or absolutely necessary for him to leave the sanctity his room provided. however sometimes he'd have to leave his room but he never dwindled around.

↪levi was desperate to get home, it had been a long day at RAD and he finally managed to snag a limited edition item from a store on the outskirts of the devildom. all he had to do now was get back with his purchase in perfect condition. he practically jumped out his skin when he heard a scream from further beyond in one of devildom's forest beside him.

↪he knew he shouldn't walk into a dodgy forest after hearing a scream - it was like every horror troupe! but surely a peak couldn't hurt after all what if someone was hurt? not that he'd normally care all that much but something felt different, more serious.

↪and he was right, the sight wasn't pleasant by all means. the remains of what could only be an angel thrasing around desperately trying to subdue the bleeding that was a constant stream of crimson. levi felt sick, by no means was it your fault but he just couldn't stand the sight of your flesh and feathers mixing together.

↪he fumbled desperately trying to reach his d.d.d to contact lucifer for help but he felt absolutely helpless in the scenario. he had fallen once, sure it wasn't aa brutal as you but he could only imagine the fear you must be feeling - especially whe you're wings are practically falling off. but what could a lowly otaku like him do?

satan ★↷

↪on his way back from RAD, he had seen a rather adorable cat run past into a nearby forest and naturally satan followed. a part of him was convinced that maybe he would get lucky and find some sort of secret cat hideout in the devildom.

↪he found it rather alarming that the cat suddenly turned heel and ran back past him not to far fron a clearing. although when he looked into the clearing, he hadn't expected to see the fallen remains of an angel crumpled into the floor.

↪ originally he thought you looked absolutely ethereal, ironically the devildom's light seemed to highlight your features perfectly. however he quickly doubled back on his thoughts when he could see the mess that were you're wings. the crimson coated over what used to be a pure white, feathers had fallen and in their place was evidence of flesh that certainly shouldn't of been there.

↪he had always been curious and so showed no hesitation in stepping towards your poor form. the exhaustion from blood loss and the actual act of 'falling' was evident on your frame and so you barely paid attention to the approaching demon - perhaps he'd be kind enough to put you out of your misery.

↪satan knew you were still alive but he was stumped. did he just leave you here for something crueler to come along and finish you or did he help you?

asmodeus ★↷

↪it had been another late night for asmo, he had snuck out once again against lucifer's demand and asmo had spent some time at the fall. although for some reason he wasn't actually in the mood to be there no matter how hard he tried to convince himself to stay, so he had left way earlier than normal.

↪it was a rather quiet night all over devildom, way quieter than what asmo was used to seeing and so he figured he might as well just head back. or that was his plan until the sight of a rather deep crimson caught his attention. small drops lead into puddles and eventually the source lay at the edge of the outskirts of a forest.

↪asmo started panicking and immediately fumbled out his d.d.d to call atleast one of his brothers who may be able to help. he wasn't dumb and could recognise those wight feathers, he knew you used to be an angel because the greying feathers told him that you were no longer welcome back in the celestial realm.

↪he took great pity on you. he was sure you would've beeen a stunning angel but know you were reduced to nothing but a former shell - just like him all those years ago. he took cautious steps toward you but it became clear that exhaustion had taken over you, oh how he wishes he could help you return to your former beauty.

beelzebub ★↷

↪it had been another late fangol game. the other team had put up more of a fight than beel's team anticipated and the matches dragged on and on. once the game had finished he informed his brother's that stayed to watch that they could go home without him as he'd still be a while.

↪he didn't mind walking home on his own at all or atleast until he closed nearer to the house of lamentation and saw a very concerning amount of blood trailing off into the closest forest. beel was a kind soul at heart and if somebody was hurt, he'd want to help.

↪although he wasn't exactly prepared to find a bleeding angel at the end of the trail. the sight of you and your mangled mess of feathers, flesh and blood was by no means pretty. he approached you carefully but he could tell that even if you did notice him, you didn't care. you were too exhausted to do anything but accept your fate.

↪beel felt pity when he watched your slumped form crumple to the ground, he did rush over and checked if you were alive. one minute you had been laying face down in youe own blood, the next some stranger was carrying you away and before you're mind slipped into darkness you heard multiple voices as somebody laid you down on a rather comdy surface.

belphegor ★↷

↪the avatar of sloth wouldn't be the avatar of sloth if he didn't spend most of his time lazing around or sleeping. he rarely went out without nearly falling asleep many times. but sometimes the house of lamentation gets too loud. way too loud. normally he just goes into the attic but between mammon being ounished by lucifer and satan going through a rage, he'd rather not.

↪the forest behind the house was normally quiet and no unwanted creatures normally came near as they also seemed to fear lucifer. sure it wasn't the attic but he was tired and needed one minute of peace without fearing that satan would wreck through the entire house or lucifer would do the same trying to catch mammon. he didn't plan to be long but the unpleasant smell of blood quickly hit his senses.

↪out of weird curiosity, he followed the smell and he wished he didn't. he stared at you as a flurry of emotions swirled inside of him. was this what pain lillith had to endure when she was forced out of the celestial realm? no, no she was sent to the human world, surely it was painless physically? all belphie could do was stare awkwardly at the bloody mess that was you.

↪he could hear your laboured breathing and could see the amount of pain you probably were in, yet he froze. the right thing to do would be to go alert his brother's of your presence but he doubted they wouldn't be much help right now but he could barely help you himself.

akutasoda's 1k event

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peoplesgraves · 2 years

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What is love if not a ghost

Yandere vampire x ghost reader

It had started as a mutual hate. He had killed you and you were annoying. Even circumstances really. He excepted your soul to float away like all his victims did after they’d been devoid of life but instead you stayed. Floating above your body and staring down at him with big, empty eyes.

From then on that’s how it’d been every time he was home. The only solace he had from your anger was when he was hunting for new victims. You’d even ruined that for him though. Every time he drained some poor sap he worries he’ll make a new ghost and be further haunted.

“Haven’t I suffered enough?! I haven’t been able to sleep, I’ve been to scared to eat! Everywhere I go you follow me and you shriek and wail!” The vampire yells at you his frustration from over a month of your haunting was taking a toll.

His skin chills even further than usual as you a laugh a cruel and broken laugh. “dear vampire, you have no idea what true suffering is. You have no idea what it’s like to be slowly drained of your life. To be spit back out as this horrible thing.” You gesture to your new ethereal form and shiny tears collect in your eyes. “It hurts all the time just like the first time and still I’m stuck with you, with my killer.”

The vampire, Valian, finds himself feeling remorse. A bloodthirsty creature of the night feels sorry over a human. He rationalizes that this time is different and that he’s not weak to your tears. He’d never had to face the consequences of his actions before and it was only natural to feel something over it.

Things are different after that. You still cry and curse him but he no longer curses back and begs you to leave him. It seems the more he grows to care for you the more you disappear. You actually smile and cry happy tears as the vampire turns into a shell of his former self. He is both the torturer and the tortured.

“Don’t leave me. I need you” red eyes glow in the moon and his lips quiver with delirium.

You’re almost completely gone now, content at the nearing end, the end to all of your suffering.

Valian is crying. He’s on his knees begging god or anyone else who may listen to make you stay. What a pathetic sight watching a creature of night praying to the light, betraying everything he is. Soon though he turns to a much more befitting approach. Threatening whatever higher power there is that he will find you at any cost. That they gave you to him and they cant just take you back. Soon he’s on his knees for you, for his true god.

“Please forgive me. Let us walk the wretched planes of this earth for the rest of our existence, together.” He grabs your hand one of the only parts of you that wasn’t quite gone yet, but even that turns to nothing in his grasp.

Your final words echo inside his mind only further driving the knife into his heart. “I could never forgive you, now you’ll know what true suffering is.” You’re gone and your hated vampire let’s out an agonized scream. He sits where you had been and waits for day, when he’ll stand in the sun and find you, his beloved ghost.

#yandere vampire #yandere vampires #yandere monster #yandere beast #ghost reader #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere fantasy #yandere mythical creature

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gayvampyr · 2 years

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“chihuahuas are so vicious” imagine if you were so small that people could pick you up and do whatever they want with you, to you, and they did frequently. imagine if you were picked on all the time because people thought it was funny, treating you like a toy or an object because of your size with no regard for your own autonomy or wellbeing, and you didn’t really have any sort of defense mechanism other than growling and biting. imagine a much larger potential threat (who looks just like many other real threats) approached you and you couldn’t tell if they meant you harm, so you told them to back off and they didn’t listen. you’re instinctually gonna go into defensive survival mode. and because you’re so small, you have to use everything you’ve got. and even though your boundaries have been invaded and you were only acting out of self-preservation, you’re now evil, vicious, and inherently aggressive. that’s not fair, is it?

chihuahuas are not mean to you on purpose. they’re not intentionally malicious. they are small animals who have to be on defense at all times because they’re an easy target and generally get treated horribly by people who do not think they are living creatures deserving of autonomy and respect.

i have a chihuahua whom everyone thinks is mean for no reason, that he just wants to bite you because he’s a bad dog. but this chihuahua has been abused by the vast majority of people who have come in contact with him since birth. people who pick him up and move him in ways he doesn’t like, pushing him, chasing him and watching him try to run on his little legs, making him growl and getting him riled up because “it’s soo funny when a little animal tries to be ferocious.” but now that he’s a bit bigger, it’s not so funny anymore. now it’s a sign of amorality and malice. now he’s just a mean, grumpy dog who hates everyone. and then there’s the added stressor of having epilepsy, and having random assholes mess with him causing him to have seizures, so he has to be extra vigilant. and i have a big dog, a lab, who no one has ever done these things to, because it’s just so commonplace to treat little dogs like shit just because they’re little. it makes me so mad to see the way people try to turn it around and make it seem like my chihuahua is the one in the wrong here when he is a victim of circumstance, as most of them are.

you have to earn chihuahuas’ trust as much as any other animal. bigger dogs typically have the luxury of being trusting (given the right environment) because they not only are generally treated better, but have the size and strength to fight if need be, which is why we as humans don’t approach them out of nowhere let alone try to make them angry for laughs. i mean when you look at how humans react to bears, moose, or really any larger animal you should understand the wariness chihuahuas have of us. i don’t get why people who call themselves animal-lovers are so quick to dismiss and write off small dogs as a whole when 99% of the time, their demeanor is a direct result of past treatment. they just need patience and respect. it’s frankly ludicrous to expect to be automatically given full trust by an animal whom you could very easily wound or even mortally injure. just. use your brain and try to act with compassion, please

#animal abuse #text post #people are so so mean to little dogs and it makes me so mad. they’re just little guys #my dog was super sweet as a puppy too. his happiness was taken from him and now he gets blamed for it? fuck that noise

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bullet-prooflove · 11 months

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A Good Man - Obispo 'Bishop' Losa x Reader

Tagging: @witches-unruly-heart @annetje @anime-weeb-4-life @danzer8705 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @the-wandering-lunatic @alwaysachorusgirl @vannabanana1995 @beardedbarba @multifandomloversworld @camelia35 @queeniesdiary @est1887 @lilvampirina @creativitybeware @genius2050 @gracerosaleigh @mortal--soul @buddinglinguist @spookyboogyuniverse @kishie8 @saltyunicorn079 @nessamc @spaghettificationandpretzels @yikes-myguy @corruptedcoffin @nu1freakshow @lyly00 @oureternalbond @rubes2323 @samanthaofanarchy

You used to be a librarian once upon a time, that’s where Bishop remembers you from, Tummy Time at the library on Saturdays. You used to run a couple of groups he attended, you’d orchestrated the Gruffalo Walk, which included kids following the costumed beast around the library into areas decorated with cardboard trees and paper. He remembers standing next to you, his eyes on Aidan and a smile on his face as his little boy toddled after the creature.

It's been eight years since his son died and he still feels the loss as if it happened this morning.

The library has closed since then, the building still stands empty near the centre of town, windows smashed, and graffiti sketched onto the walls of the building. He knows some of the local kids tell each other ghost stories and sneak in there to get high.

“What happened?” he asks as he stands with you inside one of the empty rooms inside the community centre. He has his toolbox with him today, one that he keeps in the closet in the hall.

He’s been coming around ever since that night with Mari, fixing up odds and ends around the place. It keeps his head out of a bottle and helps him put some good back out into the world, he hadn’t realised just how much this town had gone to shit in the past couple of years. Through you he’s learned that outreach services have been cut right back, that the free clinics are buckling under the weight of the need and that the kids in this town are running amok because they have no place to go because their parents are working two or three jobs to put food down on the table.

You’re trying to change all of that just a little at a time.

“What always happens. The funding got cut.” You tell him as you step back to let him work. He’s helping you put up some shelving today. You intend to turn one of the larger rooms into a children’s library, the makeshift one you’ve trialled has proved to be popular and you require more space. You’ve scheduled Lego clubs, Storytimes and parental socialisation groups, because being a parent can be isolating and you believe that talking to other people in similar circumstances saves lives. Infant First Aid is being run by Stitches out of function rooms near the back of the building. You’re transforming this space into a community hub; a place people can feel connected again.

It's a worthy cause but you have to fight to make it happen. He’s been here late at night, plastering a wall while you’ve been drafting funding application after funding application, trying to make shit happen. It’s a relentless task, you’re a hands-on person, you prefer getting involved and being around people, but the paperwork is a necessary evil even if it is relentless.

You’re a tenacious woman, he likes that, he likes you. He likes the shit, you gave someone called Brad from City Council, when he tried to decline your application for Food Bank vouchers for a couple of families you’ve been helping to support. He likes the fact you actually take the time to sit with someone in their moment of crisis and hear them out over a tea or a coffee. He likes the fact you aren’t afraid to get messy, getting down in the dirt with the kids when they’re trying to fish their soccer ball out of a bush, or rolling up your sleeves to wash the dishes after a support group for victims of sexual assault.

He loves the other shit you do; the stuff you think he doesn’t see. He knows you’re helping illegals under the radar, signposting them to charities that can help with their particular predicaments. He knows you go on border runs, helping people who are escaping from the violence in Mexico, preventing them from falling victim to people like Alice Reed and the Reed Coalition, who would rather see them dead. You think it’s your best kept secret but he’s onto you. Your group has approached Riz before today about working the fence on his land, he’s caught a glimpse of you a couple of times whilst he’s been out at Vicki’s.

There’s silence as he works, he’s lost in his thoughts while you’re consulting the plans you’ve drawn up for the new library. He peers over your shoulder at the A4 piece of paper in your hands, a crude mock design you’ve drawn up for one of the walls. It takes him back to that place nine years ago, the library with the forest painted onto the interior, a safe space that kids could go to read books and play.

“One of my guys could probably do that.” He tells you, his hand coming to rest upon your shoulder, his thumb skating over the nape of your neck. You sigh under his touch, the tension ebbing from your shoulders. “Creeper’s a real artist, he works in black and white mainly but his girl, she’s got an eye for colour. The club can donate the paint when you sign off on their work.”

“Obispo, you’ve already done so much...” You tell him as you turn around to face.

He shakes his head vehemently.

“The work you’re doing here, it’s important. If the club can donate a little time and money, trust me we’re happy to do it.”

The look on your face makes his heart ache because there’s such gratitude in your features and it shouldn’t be like that. All of this stuff should be given freely. You shouldn’t have to beg and fight and scrape together all the tiny pieces of that you need to make something like this happen.

“You’re a good man.” You tell him and he laughs because not once in his life has anyone ever accused him of that.

“Yea well…” he smiles as a blush raises to his cheeks. “Let’s keep that our secret.”

Big Fan of Bishop?! Get added to his tag list!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#bishop losa x reader #bishop mayans #bishop losa #obispo losa x reader #obispo losa #bishop losa x you

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mehiwilldoitlater · 2 months

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Smoker vs Crocodile

Fight over Y/N

We can say that this clash started mostly for Crocodile entertainment, only to be excalated in the current aggravated and pretty much shit situation that these two could have led you into.

Let's be clear on one side: if Smoker could have avoided you this mess, he would have. It's not your fault, but this is mostly a quarrel between two stubborn men who just happened to fall for the same girl in different circumstances.

When Smoker met you, the first thing that he felt was an urge to secure you and protect you from every possible danger that this world could offer. You were so nice, naive, and gentle, always ready to see the good in everyone and a possible justification for every bad action. Despite his grumpyness and his scolding, he found these traits of yours something rare that needed to be secured. You were a simple civilian, the first victim of a pirate, and of course he felt like it was his duty to arrest them and make sure that no harm came to you! And you are always so gentle and caring for him, never complaining about his attitude or his own remarks, always ready to listen to his troubles. He didn't deserve such a nice and caring little thing like you.

And, besides, he felt like it was his own fault that the warlord had his eyes on you.

Crocodile never knew about the infatuation of the Marine on you, but when his minions toild him about a Smoker significant other, he felt like a good option to finally put a leash on the Mad Dog. AH! His face when he saw him not so far from your place of work, chatting with you in such a calm demeanor that he could have fooled everyone. But Smoker knew better—that glim that appeared in his eyes once he noticed the dagger that his own eyes were throwing towards the pirate.

Awww, the brave Marine was afraid that the pirate could steal his precious little angel. Adorable...

He wanted to scare you enough to finally make that soldier sit down and cooperate, but he started to grow on you. You were such an interesting creature, believing that the system was for poor pirates who genuinely wanted to change and work for good people.

How cute...

If Smoker sees your purity as something that needs to be protected, Crocodile wants nothing more than to tear it apart, strip you of it, and devour you. But now he wants more; he wants you completely, taking you away from the grasp of that man who has now devoted his cause to you.

Every time that smoker sees a new gift from that monster on you, he feels an urge to rip it into thousand pieces or make it a new weapon to use against him. Crocodiles love putting new jewelry on your neck and collars to show their possessiveness towards you, a small and fragile girl now between two mighty contestants.

And no matter your pleas, neither of them wants to even consider surrender.

#one piece #sir crocodile #op smoker #one piece smoker #smoker

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darkkbluee · 7 months

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What are your lawlight headcanons?

Oh, an ask? In my inbox? It took a while to realize there really was something in the inbox and it wasn't a bot this time. Anon, this is my first real ask, I'm so touched <3

To the topic! Lawlight headcanons! I have so many, I don't even know where to start. Some of them are AU genre specific, some are based on which arc/timeperiod it is. So many thoughts, how to summarize...

Warning: Below is a long ramble of a few headcanons and why I think that way. They're headcanons, and don't need canon or authorial proof to exist, thanks. Some of them might be AUs too, oops.

For AUs set in the early 2000s, where Light is first arc age. L realizes he's in love first. Not because L's older. Because of the circumstances Light grew up in.

Light is the eldest (and only) son of his family. He had his life figured out since childhood and never doubted he would do anything other than follow that path: Become a detective, chief, and eventually director. Get a girlfriend, buy a car and a house, marry said steady girlfriend, have two kids, the whole traditional family thing. You can even see hints of that in second arc.

When I first read the manga, I could see it in manga!Light. It seemed that way to me because it is sort of a common cultural thing between some Asian countries. Not anime!Light though, which is interesting, but not the point here.

So, Light does not realize he's in love, because he's never had the question of whether he's gay, because he never thought the reason he can't keep his eyes off L is because he's attracted to L, because 'attraction to L' is a non-existent concept in his consciousness.

Light is not dense, nor homophobic or anything. He recognizes when other men are attracted to him, he accepts that people can love whoever they want. He just never superimposes that image on himself.

It takes a whole long while for his brain to cook enough, to separate himself from the image he has in his mind. Then, he questions his sexuality and realizes he is, indeed, attracted to men as well. Or rather, one specific man. He has no sexual and romantic interest in anyone else and by that age, Light has experimented enough to know that.

Between Older Light and L, Light would be the first one to figure it out. But between 18 - 21 year old Light and L, it would L.

2. L is very specific about textures. His favorite, the one he discovers when he meets Light, is Light. Light takes very good care of himself, his face and body being as much a resource he uses as his brains.

Cue touchy L. L likes to run his fingers through Light's hair, he likes it when he can touch Light skin-to-skin, likes it when Light touches him back with his fingers.

As much as L likes watching Light (because L will freely admit he is a shallow creature and Light is very attractive to watch indeed), L loves touching Light more. He may or may not miss body language cues if he's too close to observe the full picture, but the trade off is worth it to L.

3. Light's long list of ex-girlfriends and admirers has stumped L many times. Especially when Light admits they all knew about the others. And that they don't begrudge Light for not committing 100%. And that they still happily help Light with whatever he wants them for even decades later.

Sometimes, it makes L wonder if he is just another victim of Light Yagami's charisma. Then he discards that thought because it doesn't matter. He has Light and Light is just as obsessed with him right back. L is the eventual winner and it doesn't matter who caught whom when they're both in it together.

4. They're both highly competitive. It translates over to board games as well. It's a Rule TM, posted on the fridge, notarized, signed and stamped by their friends and family, that they are never allowed to play Monopoly. And Uno. And Catan. And- [an increasing list of trade focused games].

Addendum - Twister should only be played in personal space, behind closed locked doors! — Sayu and Mello

Addendum 2 - Light is forbidden to play Jenga with Near. — L

That's all for now! If I continue, I'll never stop XD

Thanks for the ask, Anon!

#lawlight #death note #light yagami #l lawliet #asks #ask: lawlight headcanons #my first ask!

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skayafair · 2 months

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John's Relationship with People Outside

There's an interesting thing with John and his relationship with others who aren't Arthur.

Ultimately his knee-jerk reflex is... not to care. He cares about Arthur, the rest of the world means very little. Usually if they are helping someone, it's Arthur's initiative: the wraith, the policemen on the boat, the old woman in Harpers Hill, Cana, Marie, Hatty, Oscar. But there were some exceptions, and his attitude is evolving, so I wanted to look into this in a bit more detail.

The first time he expressed the desire to help was when they found the abandoned car on the side of the road. I can't tell why - mostly it was a way to improve Arthur's mood to make him go along with what John wanted of him, a manipulation, but there clearly was a genuine will to help, too. Especially when they found the baby. This was the first of the few non-personal cases.

Lily. She didn't need helping, but she's the first person in the outside world who picked John's interest and gained his affection, the first personal connection that wasn't forced onto him.

The woman in the tunnels on the island. This was more about John's "any creature can be redeemed" - if Arthur considered a woman who was likely a victim of the circumstances (in John's POV, at least) a monster whose death was justified, what was he going to think of John.

Lily the Dreamlands creature. A debatable one since initially it was Arthur who decided to interact with them, but John got sympathetic later on his own accord.

People in the mines. Again, debatable. John would have been fine with leaving them to their fate (and he expressed as much when he came to his senses) unless he wasn't fresh from the Dark World's horrors and yeeted straight into Arthur's corruption ark. His desire to save them had to do more with saving Arthur's humanity than people themselves (not saying he didn't care at all tho).

Noel. Now, this is an interesting case. Because this is the second time John got attached to someone other than Arthur, and the first one when he could actually interact with the person. And this did wonders to his character. No more being too posessive, instant understanding of how much he fucked up with Oscar, tons of regrets, just as many happy moments. Noel was the closest thing John had to a friend other than Arthur, and the first one "on the outside", the first one he and Arthur shared friendship with. I think that's why John was so desperate to save him that he even manifested and beat Yellow. Noel might have become a bridge between John and other people, help him see them as, well, people rather than unimportant background characters. That's why I think Noel is a very important character. He gives both John and Arthur a whole new spun on their character developement that is probably going to last.

#malevolent podcast #malevolent spoilers #john malevolent #john doe malevolent #detective noel

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blueberrypancakesworld · 9 months

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Caius - The first encounter

Caius x fem reader

warning : angst, blood, implied sadism

Summary : The first encounter with Caius was for you a nightmare, a thing to escape but for him it was everything because his rage disappeared and at the same time he wanted to break you

masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

°When you met, there were better circumstances, but that was the reality you found yourself in. In an old throne room with a group of people who, like you, just wanted to learn more about Volterra. But the reality was different, the legends and tales were not fairy tales. Vampires were real and they started killing all the humans.

°Several fearful sounds left your lips as you felt not only the warm tears on your cheek but also more and more often the warm almost hot splashes of blood that stained you. How fear turned to panic and the blood seemed to fill the room.

°Blood and death seemed to be everywhere in the room, people torn apart, children torn apart, blood flowing everywhere. In the chaos, in all the chaos of reality, she saw the three. Three perfect beings. Three demons.

°It was a miracle that the three hadn't pounced on her yet. She was somehow able to disappear in the mass of people. She must have looked like a deer in headlights. Eyes wide with fear, tears running down her cheek and the dripping sound of blood that sounded like ticking.

°But the red eyes of the three did not leave her for a blink of an eye. Her heart seemed to beat so loudly that she was sure they would hear it.

°But as the last drop of blood fell, adrenaline flooded her body and the instincts of fear took over.

°Fear was in her gaze as she saw the destruction, the suffering. Everything around her was dead and with each drop of blood on the floor her heart seemed to beat faster and faster.

°,,Run" the blonde demanded, his red eyes showing something like pleasure. As he made her flinch. Enjoying her fear, her panic and confusion, it seemed to amuse him.

°Obeying his command out of fear of what was to come. Of what could still happen. Hurrying to the door, she had almost reached it. Freedom was almost there and the blood and death were behind her.

°The wood seemed almost reached. Her hands could literally feel the wood. To feel the freedom behind it, to feel the suns and get away from the creatures. To finally be alive again and return home.

°But before she could reach the wood, someone had grabbed her by the neck and yanked her around. She would not escape. She would never escape.

°Making a pained, frightened sound, she looked up into the red-eyed man's face. The blond had a sadistic, smug grin on his lips. While in his red eyes only anger and hatred seemed to be flaming.

°,,Plea-Please don't" came trembling over her lips as he grabbed her chin and moved her head slightly to the side. She saw in the corner of her eye how he fixed her neck and seemed to feel her fear. ,,She is mine," she heard him say as if she were nothing more than an object to him. To the creature.

°His voice was laced with pride and something like sadism as the other two creatures said nothing. They seemed rather pleased that the blond had found her. He had found a victim.

°Suddenly his gaze became firmer and more demanding. His grip tightened and she feared he would break her neck. But he did not. Instead he ran his fingers over her carotid artery with a certain pressure. She saw a brief smile of pleasure come to his lips.

°He seemed to enjoy her quickening heartbeat. As she slowly became more and more aware that there must be more and more behind all this. Behind the blond and the other two.

°When the blond suddenly tightened his grip again and slowly began to take her breath away. Seemed to be waiting for her answer to satisfy him. To assure him that he was right. The right about her. ,,Say it," he demanded and she felt her bones give way at any moment. Despite his demands, she had no value in his eyes.

°Taking as much air as she could get, she gasped, ,,I-I'm yours" before he loosened his grip and took her with him. She didn't care about her hurried breathing as she tried to gradually get oxygen back into her lungs.

°For a moment, a moment in its infinity, his being was not tinged with hatred and revenge. The blond was enjoying his toy, his pet, his blood to which he nevertheless felt something. Besides his desire to hurt her, to see how far he could go. But her heart only beat so long before the hate and rage would take him over and he would kill her in a fit. Breaking bone after bone just to hear her suffer. But there was still time, wasn't there?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@kimvolturicullen , @demetrivolturiswife , @archoniluthradanar , @iloveslasher , @lucansmina , @smolchubbygoddess , @like-a-dream-about-to-bloom

#twilight #twilight volturi #twilight caius #caius twilight #twilight caius x reader #caius x reader #twilight saga #twilight aro #twilight marcus #volterra

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fandombead · 9 days

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Returning the Favor

Word count: 2,690 || It's on AO3!

Summary: When you help a fae, you are owed a favor of equal value. And fae do not forget their debts. Patton always just wanted to help, with no strings attached. That isn't how it works and maybe he's grateful for that, in hindsight.

════ ≪ ❈ ≫ ════

Chapter 1: Kind

[Prologue]

Janus’ heart pounded in his skull, a steady reprimand for the situation he’d gotten himself into. How could he have been so stupid? He’d allowed himself to get separated from his attendant, foolishly thinking he could handle an outing on his own. How quickly circumstances had gone awry.

He pulled for the eighteenth time in vain against the spider web, and only seemed to get more of himself stuck in the sticky cross-strands circling the connectors of the web. It really was just bad luck: the young fae had been distracted trying to hide from a hawk overhead and, of course, the first bush he ducked into had a near-invisible massive spider web.

He’d flown into it at full speed, and the recoil of it had gotten his limbs tangled in the fine threads. His poor wings had it the worst, as he’d made the mistake of trying to flap on instinct to get free and only pinned them directly into it. He had no leverage to push off of the web and he didn’t particularly want to deal with a pissed-off hungry spider. A shadow fell over him and he had to wonder if his luck truly sucked so much that the bird had actually found him.

“Oh! You’re– You’re not a butterfly.”

Janus blinked and found himself looking up, perplexed and dreading at the young voice…two giant blue eyes on a round freckled face stared down at him, a half-done flower crown carefully clutched in the hand sticking over the bush. Janus’ eyes narrowed. A human was the last thing he needed to get involved.

“Away with you! Leave, I don’t want your involvement.”

“But aren’t you stuck? I can help, I won’t hurt you.” the human replied, walking around the bush and kneeling behind Janus, which was unnerving.

Janus scowled, trying to keep eyes on the human despite being trapped on his front. He renewed his struggle but all it was doing was making him tired. “I said I do not need it.”

The human sat back with a worried expression, but their big hands made no move to grab Janus. “Okay. I’ll make sure you get out safely, though.”

Janus craned his neck to squint at them unhappily, but they seemed intent on just keeping watch for the spider that was surely around. Janus scowled to himself, humiliated as his pulling and twisting did nothing to improve the situation. No matter how he tugged or tried to rip his arms free, the strands stuck to him. It was all he could do to not get his head stuck too.

He grunted in frustration, silently cursing this human for bearing witness to his vulnerable moment as he was quickly tiring but refused to stop on principle with the large, wide eyes occasionally turning on him with what couldn’t be worry. No, it was likely pity, as he struggled like a mere insect waiting to die as nature intended for small creatures like him: victim of his size and bad luck. He gritted his teeth, refusing to succumb to the hot frustration behind gold eyes.

The human suddenly squealed in alarm as the spider crawled down the web towards its net’s prey. “Careful!! It’s coming! Oooh– please—“

Janus flinched as he saw the massive spider crawl out onto the web. He struggled futilely to get a hand free as panic got to him. “Okay! O-Okay, get me– oof!”

Janus felt a gentle pinch of his sides and felt himself get pulled up. The web tore away easily, though he was still covered in it as he found himself in the human’s loose fist.

The child scampered back from the bush with the fairy cupped in their palm, looking around frantically for where the spider had fallen when he’d torn its web. He shuddered, trying to shove it from his mind after checking around for a long moment. He then looked down at the web-covered fae he’d saved and tried not to think about the web now stuck to his hands as a result.

“Are you okay?”

Janus ignored the question, electing instead to keep swiping at his arms and legs as he hopelessly tried to get the webbing off of him. It wasn’t so much too strong for his pulling as it was sticky, just getting more onto his hands as he knelt trying to get it off of him.

The human let him stay in his palm as he watched, and Janus did not like being gawked at. If his wings weren’t still covered and weighed down by the webbing, he’d have already tried to take off. But he was rather grounded as he worried how he was going to reach and clean them himself.

He frowned up at the human after a moment, more wary than upset. He’d accepted help without asking the conditions. It was foolish to let himself. “And what would you ask of me after doing such a priceless favor?”

He hoped it was just that, a favor. He knew how valuable his kind were to humans in the trade for magic items. He didn’t know if a child would grasp the sort of value he had. Stars, even he didn’t know. Only his mother and caretakers had warned him of such things while venturing out, that humans weren’t to be trusted as they’d take him regardless of his age. He was just an object to them and now he’d gotten himself at the mercy of one. Maybe he should have taken his chances with the spider. If he got back home, his mother would surely never let him leave the kingdom again.

If he called for help, he wondered if Emile would hear him. Would that only alert the human to more fae for the taking? He didn’t want to drag Emile into this, but he now wanted the teacher here to get him out safely. Emile would be upset if he just allowed himself to be taken for his sake, though. He’d know what to do and say to appease the human.

But while Janus had been spiraling down those thoughts, he hadn’t noticed the human shifting until he felt his stomach drop.

He looked around in a panic as the human stood, the slightly crushed flower crown hanging in the crook of his arm as he focused on cupping Janus securely. “Um. I ask if you need some water to help get the strings off?” he answered a bit unsurely.

Janus blinked, staring blankly until he remembered the last thing he’d said.

The fairy made an unamused face, but the human seemed entirely genuine. Janus shifted uneasily but knew that it would help. Still, he wasn’t keen on wracking up more unpayable debts. But how else would he get back to flying? And the longer his large wings were covered in the spider silk, the harder they’d be to clean.

“Why?” he demanded, eyes narrowed. “So you can take me to the other humans that sent you and sell me??”

The other looked startled. “Wha– no! No, I didn’t even know you weren’t a butterfly,” he defended. “I really thought you were a poor swallowtail that got trapped. H-How else are you gonna get home?”

Janus studied him for a long moment, making the human squirm a little. “…okay.” he sighed, covering his face. “But don’t take me far!”

The other child perked up and nodded quickly, his caramel curls bouncing off his head with each nod. “No problem! There’s a stream right over here.”

The tiny fae grimaced. He already knew that, as it was the very one he’d run into minutes before. Emile was probably losing his mind on the other bank with worry. “Silly mortal. I cannot cross running water, let alone get in it. It is a wretched barrier to my kind.”

Blue-eyes looked perplexed. “How did you cross it in the first place, then? Did you fly really high?”

Janus sighed. “Of course not, that wouldn’t work. I…I rode a turtle swimming across.” he admitted, embarrassed. And admittedly he hadn’t thought it through until he was halfway across. If that turtle had decided to duck under...

“Oh. You’re stuck over here?” the larger child asked, something like sympathy in his tone that made Janus bristle a little.

“I just wanted to see what was on this side because I’ve never been, and I can find my own way back! And I’ll be cleaning my own wings, so you can keep your huge human hands to yourself.”

He chose not to acknowledge that he was already in the human’s palm, because then he’d be reminded of the little power he truly had. But maybe he could trick the human into not realizing that. At that, he added, “And I don’t even know your name.”

Even as they talked the human child still had been walking and stopped at the stream. He knelt beside it, looking across curiously before down at his passenger now only in one hand.

The child tilted his head, then opened his mouth eagerly before pausing. “My Ma says I shouldn’t give strangers my name,” he said apologetically and Jan smirked if only to hide his nerves and rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, I bet she did, then. Still, I should call you something.”

The human thought for a moment, looking at the abandoned wildflower crown to his right. “You can…call me Blue? Like Bluebell— my family calls me that sometimes,” he explained, hoping that would work.

Janus sensed no lie and he acquiesced. Not hard to see where they’d gotten that.

“What can I call you?” Blue questioned, eagerly leaning forward some.

The young fae folded his arms and shook his head. “I did not agree to an exchange.” he deflected, and Blue wilted.

“Oh. I suppose that’s true,” he replied, rubbing his arm awkwardly.

Jan eyed him for a long moment. “You can call me Jay.”

The human’s eyes widened and just as fast he shifted back to beaming.

“Okay, Jay! Aw, it’s like the bird, right? That’s a little funny,” he giggled. “Blue and Jay. Blue Jay~”

Jan shook his head at the antics. “Alright, Blue. Tell me what exactly your reasoning was for bringing me here?”

Blue set him down beside him. “I’m gonna help you clean off so you can fly and then I can get you back home across the river,” he explained before grinning. “No strings attached!”

Jay didn’t look particularly pleased. “I already said I did not want you to help with my wings,” he said, the black and yellow wings fluttering anxiously behind him as he tried very hard to not let them close on each other.

Blue nodded. “Don’t worry, I won’t have to! Trust me, I have an idea.”

Janus eyed the human and then the stream. “I cannot trust one of the same who have harmed my kind for centuries, no matter how naive. You will be just like them one day.”

“I refuse to be.” Blue insisted, not even wavering at the accusation while reaching into the water with cupped hands. “I can't prove it now but I can help you. If you let me,” he said, gazing over at Jan as he offered the carefully captured water to the fairy. “Just flap your wings in the water and the web should come loose.”

Jan stared up at him as if trying to find the answers written in the tan freckles splattered across Blue’s face. “Why would you just help me for nothing?”

“Because you need it. And I can give it. That’s enough reason to help. You don’t have to do anything but maybe trust me a little bit. It’s just like…like a favor. I don’t need anything back.”

Janus stepped closer, then looked down at the lightly dripping pool of water in Blue’s palms. He wouldn’t be able to fly until his wings dried, but he already couldn’t do that anyway. He wouldn't be any more at the human’s mercy than he was now unless the human planned on getting him sick. The idea was outlandish even to him.

He set his hand gently on Blue’s index finger. “…okay.”

Jay ended up sitting together with Blue for over an hour, after having dipped his wings into the water and to his relief, making them easier to clean. He didn’t like his wings being wet, but it would not damage them. They talked while Janus sunned for a bit, hesitantly at first then more at ease as it became clear Blue was keeping to his word.

The sun was getting lower in the sky and Blue set down the small flower crown he’d been painstakingly weaving out of a bunch of tiny purple wildflowers they’d found nearby. Blue offered it to Janus, who had been watching curiously as the human struggled with large fingers to not crush the plants as he worked. The fairy took it gingerly, then peered up at Blue curiously.

“You wear it! If you want to. It’s a flower crown.” he explained, and Janus’s eyes widened. How had this human even known?

Janus looked down at it, before carefully setting it on his head and Blue looked delighted. “Aw, purple looks lovely on you!” he giggled happily, and Janus’s wings fluttered unconsciously.

Blue beamed before looking around, then down at his companion again. “Your wings look like they’re all dry, can you fly yet?”

Janus blinked, looking back at them. He flapped testingly for any extra water weight and was able to get off the ground with no problem. He smiled lightly, nodding. “They’re dry,” he confirmed. “I could get home.”

Blue nodded back and stood, offering Janus his palms. “Let’s get you across, then. We don’t want your family being any more worried.”

Blue took him to a shallow, narrow part of the stream not too far down and carried Jay back across, simple as that. It stunned Jay how easy it really was.

He looked back at Blue and gave him a bow as he hovered, intrigued by this strange human he would never run into again. Blue waved and did not follow as Jay zipped off to find his distraught mentor for the scolding of a lifetime.

A favor.

Such a simple phrase for something that was so valuable that he could not repay with anything he had to offer. Considering what could have happened had Blue not intervened, it was a life-debt. But that was the point, wasn’t it? Blue had chosen not to bind him to the deed and yet it felt like something he couldn’t be released from so easily, beyond the laws of magic and hospitality and dealings.

He’d never heard of a human-like that before. And he couldn’t stop thinking about them long after he’d made it safely back home.

He set the flower crown on his intricately carved toadstool table beside his bed. It would stay preserved, as bright as the day it was created, forever. It was a reminder. A fitting symbol of a debt that was not something he could truly even repay, he knew, but that didn’t mean the opportunity would never arise.

He went to sleep, with many questions and thoughts on the boy who had helped a fae for nothing in return and, not one to accept things for free, wondered if he really would continue to hold those beliefs or grow up to regret having not taken advantage of his finding as a foolish young one. Janus wondered if he himself would, in a swapped scenario. It only made Blue’s actions that much more perplexing. Maybe he could ask Emile. Maybe he would understand it after some years: this level of thoughtless selflessness.

He concluded it just had to be that the boy hadn’t understood what kind of offer he’d had. Janus figured he’d gotten very lucky for that: as the crown prince, he had much to lose being captured by humans.

But the kind eyes and the easy conversation were hard to consolidate with simple ignorance. He would find out what it really was, someday.

((Thank you for reading!))

#sanders sides #patton sanders #janus sanders #ts patton #ts sides #ts janus #tss fanfic #sanders sides fic #how do i tag this on tumblr omg #my writing #returning the favor AU

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purgatory-hotel · 13 days

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lol just realised I never made a post regarding what the plot of this comic actually is! this is embarrassing (⁠ ⁠･ั⁠﹏⁠･ั⁠)

ok so. it starts off describing what Earth was like. in this version, God made Earth and noticed that creatures just started showing up and evolving. he was so enamoured by this that he made the first two humans: Adam and Lilith.

the two got along great. in this rewrite, Adam isn't so much as a controlling manbaby as he is just really annoying. Lucifer was fascinated by God's creations, and decided to visit Adam and Lilith behind God's back. Lucifer and Lilith fell in love and had an affair. Adam was, naturally, heartbroken, whilst God was furious. he created Hell, and banished the two lovers there for all eternity, deciding that it would be the place where all sinners end up.

eventually, Lilith and Lucifer ended up having a daughter: Charlie. she lived with her parents for the first 5 years of her life, until she was "rescued" by some angels. God didn't think it was fair that she was in Hell since she hadn't actually done anything wrong, so he made Adam adopt her (he thought it would teach him some responsibility)

Charlie didn't like how those in Heaven talked about those in Hell. to her, a lot of sinners were just victims of circumstance, and they deserved redemption! though purgatory does not actually exist in this world, she had heard virtuists talk about it; a made up place in-between Heaven and Hell where people stayed until they were eventually sent to either of the two. she decided to put a positive spin on it, making it a place where one could go to distance themselves from Hell and make their way up to Heaven.

when she turned 20, she pitched this idea to Sera and Adam. Sera loved it! Adam, on the other hand, hated it. his life and trust was broken by sinners, so why should he have to put up with them in Heaven? he impulsively banishes Charlie to Hell right there and then. if she loves sinners so much then she can go help them all by herself!

Alastor joins Charlie in owning and running the hotel for Ominous and perhaps Nefarious reasons and the rest, as they say, is geography...

(haha get it like "the rest is history" but with a different school subject for comedic effect lol do you get it. do you get the joke)

#info #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel rewrite #hazbin hotel redesign

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aro-laurance-zvahl · 1 year

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I am SO happy about Zane’s win in the @falseprophetpoll tonight. I genuinely thought it was the end for him, I thought Volo was the end for him, but it wasn’t. He made it through based on the MCD fandom’s sheer determination and wonderful propaganda. He’s going to the finals! This is some insane underdog story.

I wanted to throw together a little something to celebrate this unbelievable win. So have a few hundred words of Belos falling victim to Zane.

TW for things you would expect during a fight to the death. Like light gore and. Death. But it’s minor death because it has no bearing on their actual reality

—

“I’ll admit, I’m impressed. I frankly didn’t think I would have a hard time against anyone here,” Zane pulled off the mask that had been soaked through with his blood, cornering the quivering pile of slime and bone, “Like that one boy, Volo. He barely ever lifted a finger in his world, hoping a child would just do the work for him, not even forcing them. Pathetic, but you? Well you and me aren’t that different,”

Belos’ dripping face still managed to form itself into some sort of sneer, empty sockets lit with blue glaring into the high priest that stood in front of him, “I am nothing like you! You witch!”

“I am not a witch, all my magic and gifts are from a god! Just like yours,” Zane’s voice straddled the line between friendly and mocking, although the circumstances made it clear which it was, “See? So much in common. From our thirst for power, being masters of manipulation and betrayal, and oh our brothers even share horrible taste in women! It will be the death of mine’s as well. If all that makes me a witch well...what does that make you, Emperor?”

Belos snarled, attempted to spring himself against Zane to try and gain some semblance of control over the situation again. This move however was not new at this point in the battle, Zane easily being able to side step as Belos instead smeared himself across the floor. Zane couldn’t help but think he was just a worse version of a shadow knight, an immortal born from a betrayal but he just kept rotting instead of becoming better.

“I have the support! I am known! You are a rotted insignificant speck compared to me!” Green goop flew off Belos’ misaligned jaw as he tried to claw apart Zane’s confidence after the failed attack, but he seemed more bothered by another stain added to his attire.

“And you think everyone that came before you were not known? You think no one cheered for Volo? Think no one sent Wizzy gifts to try and help slay me?” Zane laughed as he took slow steps towards the beast, taking care to step on one of the protruding bones as he towered above the once massive creature, “Overconfidence in those who support us is such an easy way to fall my Emperor. It doomed my brother, it doomed your brother, it will doom the gods of my world, it will doom my father, but tonight? Tonight it doomed you.”

Zane stood at the center of Belos’ and then lifted his boot, and slammed it through his skull. The old brittle bones cracked and crumbled easily from the pressure, the rest of the bones falling into the now deaminated pile of sludge. Zane knew his death wouldn’t be so simple in Belos’ home realm, the magic boiling through him was too powerful for that despite how messy it was, but in this realm of white rooms where cheers and gifts mattered despite no clear source, it was enough.

He turned towards the sound of a small familiar whoosh, the appearance of an open door signaling his victory. He wouldn’t admit it, but this was his hardest battle yet. Perhaps it was because of his opponent’s size, or his access to some kind of magic, or even because of the not quite clear similarities between them.

Whatever it was, it didn’t matter. The cheers for him were louder, his gifts more plentiful, and his own maniacal power was strong as it surged through him. All that was left for tonight was to clean his opponent off his skin and don a fresh high priest’s uniform before meeting his next, his final, opponent.

May Irene be with him.

#Zane Ro’Meave Sweep #zane ro'meave #mcd zane #minecraft diaries #mcd #fuck belos #emperor belos #toh belos #the owl house #toh #owl house #god I haven’t written for Zane since I was like 12 this probably is ooc #me? writing? wow

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sluttish-armchair · 11 months

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Vaporization

Syme strikes me as an autistic guy with a special interest in linguistics. I mean, Orwell gave the guy four whole pages to talk non-stop about Newspeak. When Winston asked him about the dictionary, prior to the infodump, his face “lit up.”

Seeing how the Party only wants to make people suffer all the time… Maybe the Party killed Syme — not only because he understood — but because he liked his job too much. And even if they just transferred him somewhere else, he would’ve still gotten the satisfaction of seeing the language change over time, picking out the patterns of what they’re doing; and in order to pick out the patterns, one would have to recognize that words were not always the way the Party says they were.

Enjoyment and understanding are intertwined. If you enjoy something, you begin to understand it; if you understand something, you may begin to enjoy it. That being said, who else was vaporized in the book?

Ampleforth, who is described as “a dreamy creature… with a surprising talent for juggling with rhymes and meters” also got a chance (unfortunately, in the Ministry of Love) to explain his line of work to Winston. His vaporization is attributed to not being able to find a substitute for “God” in a Kipling poem… but is that entirely the case? Let’s look at something he said about that poem:

‘It was impossible to change the line. The rhyme was ‘rod”. Do you realize that there are only twelve rhymes to ‘rod’ in the entire language? For days I had racked my brains. There WAS no other rhyme…’

‘Has it ever occurred to you,’ he said, ‘that the whole history of English poetry has been determined by the fact that the English language lacks rhymes?’

If there was no possible way to replace that rhyme, why didn’t they just erase the entire poem from history? It doesn’t make sense under any circumstances, unless it was a setup. I’ve read that abusers will often give their victims tasks that they KNOW are impossible to complete, as an excuse to punish the victim for failing to complete them.

This is what happened to Ampleforth. He liked his job well enough to explain abstract concepts about it; and he remembered “the whole history of English poetry.” That’s not allowed. That makes Big Brother very angry. So as one final blow and humiliation to this poor guy, they told him he‘s so bad at the one skill he genuinely enjoyed, he deserved to be killed for it; forever corrupting it in his mind as the reason for his torture and death sentence. They wanted to make sure he never writes, or even thinks about poetry again without feeling horrible pain.

Winston is also described as enjoying his job to some degree; and we all know he was vaporized, being placed in a different department in the days leading up to his demise… Although he was also having sex, writing in a diary, and aspiring to overthrow the government; so I can’t necessarily attribute his capture to just one thing; because, from the Party’s point of view, there were so many things “wrong” with him. Which would explain why the other prisoners — such as Ampleforth and Parsons — were immediately taken to Room 101 after a few days of being in the Ministry of Love. Ampleforth said he was in for only three days; and Parsons couldn’t have been in there for very long either, as Winston (who worked on replacing real dead people with fake dead people) was never made aware of Parsons’ vaporization like he was Syme’s. These two men had only committed “unconscious” acts of thoughtcrime; Winston’s thoughtcrime was 100% purposeful, and much longer-lasting. Winston — and by extension, Julia — was a threat to them.

#nineteen eighty four #1984 book #death mention #abuse mention #orwell #dystopian literature #classic lit #literary analysis

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streets-in-paradise · 2 years

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Stranger Things Drabble

Like a Witch and her Familiar - Eddie Munson x Henderson!Reader

Warnings: Talk of grief

Summary: Post season two setted. Eddie comforts you after the death of Mews, when you feel like no one else can be there for you because you have no right to grief over your pet.

Notes: This short drabble is part of the Henderson!Reader concept i have been working on in previous posts. I wrote this very quickly as a harmless way to deal with my post vol 2 grief.

Tags: @losersclubisms @dark-angel-is-back It took a while for it to hit you. Only then, when things were calm again, it struck you. A normal delayment of the reaction considering the previous circumstances. When you got to find out of everything you missed and the worry about your brother was a priority... who would have stopped to think about a cat?

With everything that happened in your full unawareness, you felt like you didn't have the ríght to grief over Mews. Joyce lost Bob, your brother could have died while you were somewhere else making friends. Your conscience would tell you that all you were allowed to feel was thankfulness, but you couldn't control your emotions despite the guilt.

That cat has been your companion for years and you were quite a loner, she meant a lot to you. In the quiet that followed after the mess you began to feel painfully aware of her absence in your home. Her spot near the window to watch the birds was empty, there were no more happy welcome meowings receiving you when returning from school, nor 4 am wake up crying for a late hour snack of your hungry girl. No more silly sibling arguments about who should clean the litter box, you wouldn't find her asleep in Dustin's bed nor wake up alongside her. She wouldn't be rushing to curl up against you during long study sessions or on the couch while watching TV.

She was gone, eaten by a disgusting creature that Dustin brought to the house when you were too busy doing something else to watch over him.

The worst part was having no one to go in order to share your feelings. It was a disrespectful thing to do, your trivial sounding grief was a mock in comparison to what everyone else went through. You didn't have the ríght to complain, you weren't there in the middle of the shitstorm.

Swallowing your feelings seemed the way to go, until those exploded inside you and were randomly exteriorized making you look like a total weirdo. The unfortunate victim who caught your pathetic spectacle was precisely your new friend.

From the many times he accompanied you on long walks home from school so you both would have more time to talk, Eddie already knew that cats seemed to love you and you never hesitated in stopping to cheerfully salute any that would be crossing your way or meowing for your attention. He once teased you about it saying that being followed like that by cats would have got you marked as a witch back at the old times of witch hunting trials, what made you adore him. Your amazing syntony of mutual understanding was scary. Wonderfully scary, like if you would have found a soulmate.

During one of those walks with him you had the bad luck of coming across an orange cat and you couldn't control your sobbing as you would immediately remember your girl.

Eddie's primal instinct was to hug you as fast as he saw the tears, even if he wouldn't understand why you were crying.

" My Mews looked just like that. She passed away very recently and I miss her so much." You began to explain to him between your sobbing, feeling contextually forced to help him understand what was going on. " I see her in the shadow of every cat that passes by, everytime i hear some meowing across my street I dream it could be her... I know it sounds stupid. "

" It doesn't. " He cutted you off in a calming tone. " If you loved her, then it matters. "

There was no way to fully explain to him why you felt incapable of expressing your feelings over that loss, so you tried your best.

" Joyce, the mom of Johnnatan, she just lost a man she was falling in love with... I can't cry over a cat. It's an insult to other people's pain... and I bet I look like a crazy cat lady ríght now."

Eddie began to caress your hair as he delivered a heart warming reply that only you, with your weirdness in perfect sintony with his, could have enjoyed.

" More like a witch who lost her familiar. "

There was no better way to explain how you were feeling, he put your thoughts in words with such a magnificent exactitude and provided the perfect analogy to point out how Mews was more than just a cat to you.

Everything felt easier in his company, that was exactly why you were willing to lose so many hours enjoying it.

" You are so ríght, she meant that much to me. I don't have many friends and Mews was always there for me. In some ways, we were like a witch and her Familiar. "

He kissed your forehead, then stared intensely into your eyes, as if he was asking a non verbal permission to carry on with his attempts of comforting you.

" I'm so sorry, sweetheart. Do you want to talk about it? Maybe putting it into words may help. "

Exactly what you needed and what you couldn't do. Cherry picking the confesable aspects of the story, you told him a bit of what happened in hopes of getting it out of your chest.

" She was partially eaten by some... unidentified animal from the woods. My brother found the body and he hid it from me so I wouldn't have to see her ripped apart. "

The last part got a small prideful smile out of him.

" Great kid, that is very sweet. He wanted to protect you from the pain. After all I have heard about him, I bet that your little brother is as awesome as you are. "

" I talk about him all the time, I know. Sorry, I just can't help it. " You apologized, fearing that your past rambles about Dustin could have been boring to him. " i love him so much and i'm so proud of him. I wish he wouldn't have to deal with that alone. "

" You don't have to deal with this alone. " He continued for you. " Mews may be in kitty heaven, but she had the most adorable cat mama. I can't know for sure, but just by looking at you playing with all those random kitties I get the feeling that she had the happiest life at your side and that is what matters. "

You couldn't help smiling a little bit at his sweet speech, what seemed to encourage him.

" Shit happens, don't blame yourself. Maybe even if you would have been there, it wouldn't make a difference. All you gain while wondering are a bunch of guilt maggots eating your brain. That will not bring her back and will not help you out. "

He was so easy to talk to that you truly wondered where he been all your life, even when you knew you were the one who was once reluctant to approach him.

" I'm sorry that she didn't make it to meet you, she would have loved you. You know what it's said of cats, you can't fool their perception. They are very good at spotting nice people. "

That time he was the one smiling, your praise took him out of guard.

" I really don't care about what everyone else says of you, Eddie. No one in a good long while has been this sweet with me... You are truly awesome and I have no words that could be enough to thank you."

You had no idea of how much hearing that meant to him. It made him wish he could treasure you in a crystal box away from the many people that could try to change your opinion.

" We have a good long while walking ahead, tell me more about your little one. Pick your happiest memories with her, it would be like meeting her at her best. "

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x henderson!reader #stranger things imagines #joseph quinn

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theundeadsnake · 1 year

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i see ur working on a piece with toby already, but may i rq some general headcanons for him as well? :)

Hello there, yes of course ^u^ I'm always up for some creativity. Love this fandom.

A key element one should know when interacting with this troublemaker is that there is a lot that does not meet the surface. Toby seems adorable, loving and so incredibly kind despite his profession. Many would describe him as a victim of his circumstance – or as a weak wuss that only ended up working for Slender due to “luck”.

And you know what? They are right. And yet they seem to ignore his hidden nature. Toby grew up in an environment where seeming too cocky, standing up for himself, or behaving in a manner that wasn’t deemed proper, would come at a price. Pain. Suffering. Violence.

Not feeling pain does not mean one can just get tossed about, a body has its limits, and so does the mind.

Toby grew up to be a survivor. Which means that he will make others see him in a way that lets him stay safe.

At the same time, he is not infinitely kind or cheery. If he was, he would have not survived while working in a team with a remorseless sadist and an emotionally unstable manipulator.

In fact, he had to prove himself physically and mentally not to be someone that can be pushed around, otherwise, he would have a target on his back.

Thankfully for him, all went well, except for some minor injuries. His practicality allowed him to stand on equal footing with the pair.

In the main building, he has a good reputation. Much more mentally stable and in charge of himself, much more sociable, and of course very capable of monitoring the forest ground, as well as dealing with intruders. People tend to be drawn to him.

No one in the mansions can be viewed as “normal” by the outsiders. Singing a contract with Slender changed your biology and spirit, making you stronger, faster, and smarter – a true mark of danger. They do not age in the same way. Meaning that even the most human-looking of the inhabitants would not be able to hold that disguise forever. That and the interaction between the proxies, demons, demi-gods, and horrid creatures of all kinds makes Toby’s uniqueness blend in.

His minimal ability to feel pain, disorganized speech, tics and cracks as well as antisocial behavior that can swing like a pendulum don’t raise anyone’s brows in his line of work. A nice change compared to his past of ridicule.

Many would have a mental breakdown at the prospect of being in his shoes. Toby however is glad to be where he is. He does not mind his work assignments and gets a safe place to live, food, and a comfortable environment where he no longer has to walk on eggshells.

Though in all truth, it took him a while to feel comfortable. The nightmares, memories of his sister, the complex feelings towards his mother as well as the after-effects of signing the contract all caused a lot of unresolved worry and conflict.

While the past could not be changed, time went on and his personal space got filled with new people and memories. Reminders of his past will always stay with him at a much less intense level.

His current self is confident, outgoing, and relentless. You could even call him annoying – he can be and yes, he is doing it on purpose. It’s best not to give him too much of a reaction as that only encourages him. He loves messing with others.

#creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta headcanons #creepypasta #toby creepypasta #ticci toby #ticci toby headcanons

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saintsenara · 1 year

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the shack at the end of the lane merope gaunt & lord voldemort general | 4.2k words

before the world went black, she was looking at two women's faces, and a small creature covered in blood, and the cracked plaster ceiling of a london orphanage.

when she opened her eyes, she was looking up at a perfect sky, its celestial blue splashed with cotton-wool clouds. the sun shone warm on her skin. she felt at peace for the first time since september, when tom had stormed out of their knockturn alley bedsit, taking care to kick her in the stomach as he did.

it was an unconventional choice, on the part of the universe, to make tom riddle's victims meet his mother the moment they arrived in the afterlife.

this piece was written for week five of @ladiesofhpfest, on the theme of unconventional and unashamed [you can find the masterlist for this week's fics here].

its star is a character who has fascinated me for a long time - merope gaunt - and the question i have always wondered about: what happened to her after she died?

author's notes under the cut

because merope’s death is one of the moments of the harry potter series that i’ve always loathed - not because it happens, but because it is explained by dumbledore in half-blood prince as something which happens as the result of a lack of courage:

"In any case, as you are about to see, Merope refused to raise her wand even to save her own life." "She wouldn’t even stay alive for her son?" [...] "Yes, Merope Riddle chose death in spite of a son who needed her, but do not judge her too harshly, Harry. She was greatly weakened by long suffering and she never had your mother’s courage."

i really dislike the suggestion that - under ordinary circumstances - a witch would be able to prevent herself dying in childbirth because of her magic, not least because of the implication in this statement - which is very much not what the series thinks it’s saying - that magical and muggle women are, essentially, separate species.

as merope tells us in the shack at the end of the lane, she died "like a woman" - one of the hundreds of thousands of women throughout human history who have died in childbirth for no other reason than that childbirth is dangerous. these women were not weak, they were not hopeless, they were not cruel to their children, they will have wanted to live. they were just profoundly unlucky.

and so, crucially, the merope of this story wanted to live for her son. it just wasn’t as easy as all that.

after her death, she wakes up in a place she had hoped she’d left behind her for good: little hangleton. the self-creating afterlife of the harry potter series is simultaneously comforting and whimsical and totally horrifying if one stops to think too long about it. in particular, if one stops to think about what it would mean for people whose life experience has made it difficult for them to have an imagination or to remember things or places which are pleasant to them.

merope is one of these people - not even able to imagine preston, one of the most ordinary towns in britain, as anything other than "formless white light", let alone paris or rome - and she therefore ends up stuck in a house which must have been a sight of extreme misery for her while she was alive. after all, the implication of canon is very much that she was or would be a victim of incestuous sexual violence at her father and brother’s hands. she is definitely a victim of physical and verbal violence. there can be no way at all that she felt happy in the gaunts’ home - and her experience is made all the more horrifying by the fact that - as i’ve noted in the notes for the snow child, another merope-centric piece - little hangleton more broadly is quite a terrifying place. the village lends itself really well to a sort of folk-horror vibe - perfect and bucolic and too quiet, with darkness lurking underneath its picturesque veneer.

but i wanted to play with this a little - and show how a place merope felt unwelcome in life becomes a home to her in death. the shack moves from being a liminal space into being a solid one: merope makes it into the space she wants, warm and colourful, and she bars morfin from it; it ceases to be a practical space - with a flower garden replacing a vegetable one - as soon as she can acknowledge that her existence is no longer purely about survival or service [for example, when she sleeps in a bed, instead of on the floor like a house elf]; the elements of folklore which were scary in the snow child become neutral here. the blackthorn trees, in particular, spend that story being symbols of ill-omen. in the shack at the end of the lane, in contrast, they should be read as having their second folkloric purpose - protection. [the magpies - one for sorrow, four for a boy - have no happier meaning.]

merope also learns to be happy more generally. the canon narrative tends to take quite a dim view of covetousness - a trait, after all, which gets her into this mess in the first place - not least in the way that it describes lord voldemort’s magpieishness. here, we see that this preference for trivial comforts is inherited, and that taking pleasure in things - such as merope’s shawl, her golden earrings, and the presents she buys for her son in the town - is neither wicked nor sad. sometimes a shawl is a shawl. sometimes it’s a burst of transformative pleasure.

and this idea of things changing ties into a wider theme in the piece - that merope proves herself to be capable of acceptance and redemption. her vicious jealousy of cecilia - tom riddle sr.’s attractive girlfriend - is a central part of the snow child, but here we see her coming to understand how that jealousy was futile, and resolving to manage with the body she has. her rape of tom sr. is a great evil - which, as we see, he’s never managed to get over - but there is a reckoning here as she realises that he was a victim of her instead of the other way round, and as she resists the urge to stroke his hair [as black as the raven’s wing, as she wishes for in the snow child] before she sends him off to a happy place where she cannot follow him. by the time albus dumbledore arrives to see her, she has accepted that tom was never really hers, and is confused when he insists on addressing her as "mrs riddle".

she also finds herself accepting - eventually - her son.

lord voldemort’s grief over merope is one of the most interesting parts of his characterisation, and one which the canon text touches on only lightly [harry notices, for example, that he is furious when hepzibah smith insults merope by implying she stole slytherin’s locket, but he then doesn’t contradict dumbledore when he says that hepzibah’s murder was motivated by gain]. merope’s absence in voldemort’s life manifests itself most clearly in the shack at the end of the lane in her encounter with bellatrix lestrange - as bellatrix tells her daughter’s grandmother that she likes the name merope, unaware that voldemort could never have suggested it to her because all of the evidence of canon is that he has no idea what his mother was called. it also features in the scene with the two dinners, in which the earth-bound tom riddle jr. has finally accepted that his father isn’t a wizard, and has begun his investigation into his maternal line - which will eventually cause him to leave the orphanage for good, sending his childhood room into the ether to await him when he dies. [my headcanon has always been that his limbo is the orphanage - so he has to have it here even though he’ll be living with his mam for eternity.]

merope takes a long time to cotton on to the fact that her son is a murderer - which i don’t think we can really blame her for; it’s quite an overwhelming concept. the dead we meet are both direct and indirect victims of his violence: the rabbit; amy benson [who died by suicide]; myrtle [my favourite]; tom sr.; hepzibah smith; a family of albanian peasants; mrs cole [worn down by dealing with tom]; regulus black; morfin [who wasted away in prison panicking about his father’s stolen ring]; james and lily potter; bertha jorkins; frank bryce [returning to the riddle house, where he was happy]; cedric diggory; barty crouch jr.; sirius black; igor karkaroff; dumbledore [who is kind enough to lie to merope, just for a bit]; colin creevey; lavender brown [in her glittery trainers]; vincent crabbe; fred weasley; severus snape; harry potter [but only temporarily]; nymphadora tonks and remus lupin; bellatrix; and - of course - voldemort himself.

and he’d been waiting a long time for that meeting.

and, look, i’m a hopeless optimist. i think everything will be alright in the end.

#asenora fics #merope gaunt #the shack at the end of the lane #let us contemplate death #lord voldemort #ascending to his final form: mammy's boy #dumbledore being subtle for once in his life #ladies of hp fest

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