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too-deviant · 1 month

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jackie and wilson.

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summary: you haven’t been given a quest, but you have made it your personal mission to make luke castellan smile.

pairing: luke castellan x unclaimed!reader

word count: 4.1k

content: broody!luke, teenage dirtbag!luke but also not really, sprinkles of mean!luke, r is unbothered and does not gaf about his lil emo boy act, this is four thousand words of r being a pain in luke’s ass, probs will make a part 2 bc i love them your honour

notes: speaking my truth: i am a british gal. any banter in this about the new england states is entirely stuff i got from reddit so plz don’t scrutinise my american states knowledge

the layout of this fic is very much inspired by @murdrdocs if that wasn’t obvious but also icarus if u want me to change it i will jus say the word :00

PART I — she blows outta nowhere, roman candle of the wild

All things considered, you took the news of your heritage pretty well.

Sure, there was a lot of yelling — mostly through the wall after you locked yourself in your room and started packing a bag — but at least you didn’t sit on it in denial for several hours.

Honestly, you should’ve seen it coming.

The first time you realised you could see things nobody else could, you tried to admit yourself into a ward. Your mom went a little panicky, and she never did perform well under pressure, so she caved and said you were special. Too special for the other kids at your school, too special for anyone to know about it.

After that, she got more tense. Eyes darting around whenever you guys went out in public, hand lingering for a second longer on your back before she sent you to school — as if she felt like she’d never see you again. She would stay up at night and read you old Greek tales before you went to sleep, and acted way too serious about it. More serious than when she would read you Dr Seuss.

Honestly, it was a miracle you went unknowing for so long. Maybe you were insignificant, or maybe the Stymphalian Pigeon that tried to kill you after school was just slow — because you were seventeen when you got attacked by your first monster.

You took it out pretty easily — and by that, I mean you outran it through the bustling streets of your hometown until it flew messily into a bus and you dodged your way to your apartment in a flurry. Your mom’s resolve cracked like a thin layer of ice and you were packed and ready to go to this camp she spoke of before the clock had hit four-thirty.

Most of the yelling that you guys did was along the lines of — “I can’t believe you waited this long to tell me!” — and — “I didn’t want you to leave!” — “I get that, but seriously mom, I almost got eaten by a bird today. A little context going in would’ve been nice!”

You threw yourself into a taxi — much to the disdain of your mother, who insisted on at least getting you to the hill. You then reminded her that she would have to pay the fare all the way back to their apartment and it honestly wouldn’t be worth it and that you’d call her when you got the chance. She let you go with a huff, folding her arms across her chest and creasing the silky material of her pink blouse.

The next hour was about as awkward as taxi rides go, even more so when you got out in the middle of nowhere. You weren’t even sure you were at the bottom of the right hill but sent the poor guy on his way anyway and prayed to whoever your divine parent was that you weren’t about to get gunned down by an angry farmer for mistaking his land for a summer camp.

Thankfully, the empty fields shimmered into something worth travelling for when you took a tentative step across its threshold. The sun seemed to get brighter and the breeze became softer. It was nice from where you stood, and it probably would’ve gotten nicer the closer you got.

Had you not tripped over a rock and tumbled down the hill ungracefully, landing in a heap at the bottom, a few feet away from a dirt path that split off in two directions. You sat up with a huff, blowing your hair out of your eyes and squinting at your surroundings now that they were much closer. You didn’t bother to heave yourself up, catching your breath and letting your gaze flitter over the scenery.

It was cute.

Then the distinct sound of horse hooves clipping against the ground evaded your ears, and you looked up to greet the centaur who now stood above you. You thanked the gods for your moms intricately detailed bedtime stories as you pulled yourself up onto your feet and allowed yourself to be introduced to Chiron and Mr. D, who then led you to the four story house that overlooked the valley.

Your induction was swift and sweet — since you pretty much knew and had accepted everything already. There were a couple of glances and muttered comments about how you had gone so long without being targeted, but Chiron had said he wanted you to get the tour before dinner so you could settle straight to bed after the campfire, and caught some young kid by the t-shirt as he ran past, asking him politely if he could send Luke over.

The awkward two minutes it took for your tour guide to reach you stretched on for a painful amount of time, but you would relive it a hundred times over if it meant you didn’t have to experience the agony you called your first meeting with Luke Castellan.

He was tall, with a dark mop of curls that hung over his furrowed brows. His skin was tanned from all the time he spent in the sun, and his shoulders were broad enough to intimidate, but not broad enough that you were intimidated. He was your age, seemingly, and the cuffs of his green cargo pants brushed against his ankles only an inch higher than they would sit on an average person.

His most memorable feature, however, had to be the deep scar that stretched from the top of his left brow all the way to his cheekbone — it was jagged and sharp, cutting across his eye roughly, as if he had been clawed. He probably had. It was raised and shone pink under the sun, so you could tell it was fairly new, but it had healed over enough to indicate that Luke was probably tired of hearing people ask about it. So you didn’t. You barely gave it a glance before you raised your brows at him with a cheeky grin and gave him your name.

He nodded minutely, one of the only movements he made after he’d parked himself in front of you other than the sliding of his eyes from one person to another as they spoke to him. After Chiron and Mr D had given him the rundown, he gave a slight nod of his head in one direction before walking away and expecting you to follow.

You caught up to him, sidling up on his left with a huff and a smile, “I’m getting the feeling that you're sorta sick of this giving this tour all the time.”

He didn’t respond. He just looked at you, and then stopped walking, watching as you froze two steps ahead of him before shuffling back to his side sheepishly. Then he lifted an unbothered hand to the right, “Those are the strawberry fields.” He then gestured ahead, “That’s the beach.” And then to the left, “Those are the training fields.”

Then he started walking again, and you hesitated for only a second before following, “Wow. Don’t give me too much information all at once.”

Your sarcastic comment was ignored, and Luke nodded towards the bank of cabins you were nearing, “These are the cabins. Twelve. One for each Olympian. You’ll stay in the Hermes cabin until you’re claimed.”

“Right.” You nodded, “God of Travellers. Makes sense.”

He let out a breath, not pausing in his stride as he passed through the curve of houses, not sparing a glance to any of them. You took notice of how the other kids looked at him in apprehension, with a hint of fear when he got too close. He cut down an alley between two cabins — one with a dangerous amount of barbed wire across the top and another that glowed gold under the sunlight — before the pair emerged through the trees at a pavilion.

“This is where we eat.” He said. “Dinner is soon.”

“Cool.” You nodded, “What are the options? Because if food here is lacking, then I will be packing.”

You let out a useless chuckle at your own joke, but it landed flat. “Yeah, that wasn’t funny.” You muttered lowly. With a click of your tongue, you glanced over the horizon and pointed at something from afar. A tall structure that stuck out the tops of the trees, “What’s that?”

“The climbing wall.” Luke answered plainly.

“And that?”

“The Amphitheatre.”

You looked up at him, pulling a face he didn’t bother to glance at. Then you noticed a bunch of campers filing through the trees and into the pavilion the two of you stood at the edge of. They entered in groups and made their way to their designated tables, chattering and gossiping as they did.

You looked at Luke, “Well, that was…great. Truly, a riveting experience. I will say, though — your delivery needs some work. The dark and gloomy act works most of the time, but not when you’re giving a guided tour.”

That got him to look at you, and you held back your triumphant smirk. He frowned, “What?”

You shrugged, “I’m just saying, nobody is going to listen to you talk about this place if you describe it like this.” You lowered your tone into a subpar impression of his voice, and you swore you saw his brows twitch. Clearing your throat, you waved a hand, “No need to worry about that now, though. Just point me in the direction of the Hermes table and I’ll be out of your strangely well-conditioned hair.”

Another eyebrow twitch. You were getting the hang of this. Maybe one day you could get him to move other parts of his face!

You half expected the boy to ignore you and walk off — and he did. But it was in the direction of the Hermes table, so you counted it as him showing you the way. Most of the campers were seated by the time you’d arrived, and you were thus forced to sit yourself on the end of the bench, uncomfortably beside him. He was unbothered.

During dinner you were swiftly introduced to some of your peers — Chris Rodriguez gave you a lopsided grin and informed you politely that you would need to sacrifice some of your food before you got stuck into it. Travis and Connor Stoll sidled up on either side of you as you grumbled at the hearth, and yapped your ear off about the fundamentals of camp.

(So all the sneaky stuff Chiron doesn’t know about. Like how you can skip out on archery training if Lee is the one running it because he never has it in him to snitch. Or that the pegasi stables were the go-to hook up spot for summer campers, but the back of the Amphitheater was the go-to hook up spot for the year-rounders. When you asked what the difference was, they winked, and when you asked what happened if a year-rounder hooked up with a summer camper, they chuckled and walked off.)

Chiron gave you an introduction that made you feel like a new kid being asked to tell the class one fun fact about yourself, and around six kids at your table asked if it hurt when you fell down the hill.

Overall, a good first night. As far as first nights at a summer camp for half-gods goes. By the time all the campers had gone back to their respective cabins, you were ready to turn in and clock out for the day.

But you wanted to try one more time. Last attempt, and then you’d let it go.

When Luke — who you had discovered earlier was the counsellor of the Hermes cabin, and apparently a role model for the kids — came over and silently handed you a folded orange shirt with a leather cord sitting on top of it, you smirked.

“Hey, now we can match. How cute.”

He blinked at you, “Everyone is wearing the same thing.”

“The same shirts, you mean.” You tilted your head, “But we’re both wearing green cargos. And white socks. White sneakers.” Your grin widened as you watched his eyes flit down your form, taking in the outfit you had on. You were right — the only difference between you two was the white tank top you had on, soon to be replaced by the shirt he had just handed to you. You thought for a moment that it would work, that he would make a face, or say more than two sentences to you in response.

But he didn’t. He just huffed and walked away, and you watched with an appalled expression. You narrowed your eyes.

Okay, so maybe you weren’t ready to let it go yet.

The next morning, you were rudely awakened by a small child who was sprawled across your torso, having shifted from his own sleeping bag that was beside yours. He couldn’t have been any older than six, his orange camp shirt sitting like a dress on him, and if he wasn’t snoring into your chest, you would’ve thought he was adorable.

But you really needed to pee.

After you slowly but surely lifted him back onto his own pillow, you stood up with a stretch and stepped precariously over the other kids, balancing carefully on the tips of your toes so you didn’t step on any of them. The sun was barely rising, and you were the only one awake, so you held your breath and reached out for the handle of the bathroom door.

“That’s not your bathroom.”

You flinched, losing your balance and toppling back. A hand between your shoulder blades prevented you from crushing any of the kids on the floor, and you steadied yourself before meeting the eyes of the person who spoke.

Luke was staring intently at you, his eyes blinking hard as if he’d only just woken up. He was in nothing but a pair of blue sweat-shorts and you fought the urge to rake your eyes over his bare torso, watching as he lowered his hand back to his side, “That’s the counsellor's bathroom.”

“Right.” Came a low mutter, under your breath. Then louder, you asked, “Well, where is the campers bathroom?”

“Outside.” He answered, “Around the back of the cabins.”

“Out—“ You started, and then realised everyone else was asleep and swiftly lowered your volume, but kept your expression exaggerated. Wide eyes, furrowed brows. “Outside?”

“Yes.”

“But…it’s cold out there.”

“We have a controlled climate.” He said, folding his arms across his chest. His biceps tensed, “It’s never cold.”

You let out a sigh, throwing your thumb over your shoulder and pointing at the door, “Can’t I just use this one? You aren’t using it, and everyone else is asleep, they’d never know!”

He stared at you blankly and stayed silent for a long time. You wouldn’t be surprised if he just never said anything until you walked away, which you were well prepared to do, letting out a deep breath and folding your own arms over to preserve heat as you clambered towards the front door, muttering complaints under your breath the whole time. You made it three feet (or two sleeping bags) away from him when he finally piped up.

“Be quick.”

Turning around, Luke was already making his way back to his own bed, and you ogled shamelessly at his back muscles as you shuffled to his bathroom and made your way inside. You did your business quickly as requested and washed your hands under the low pressure of the sink before cracking the door open once more. The cabin was the same, everyone else still sleeping calmly. Luke was standing by his bunk, now clad in black shorts and his camp shirt. He paid you no mind when you padded back to your sleeping bag, grabbing your bag and stifling through the clothes you had packed.

You walked up to breakfast with the unclaimed girl you had met the previous night — Lana — and listened and she told you intently about the lore of Luke Castellan.

“He never used to be the way he is. He was happier before, always grinning. More than ready to help anyone here. He was…well, everyone either wanted to be with him or be him.”

“And then what happened?”

“He went on a quest. It went wrong. He came back with that ugly scar and he hasn’t been the same since.”

You made a comment that the scar wasn’t ugly, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d add on that it made him look pretty hot. But you did know better, and you knew that Luke was three people ahead of you in the line and could probably hear what you were saying. So you kept that tidbit to yourself and ate your cereal in silence.

When breakfast was over, you stood from the bench and turned, only to stop short when you realised Luke was standing behind you. Looking up at him, you raised a brow, “Yes?”

“I’m showing you around today.”

“You showed me around yesterday.”

His lips tightened, “We’re actually doing stuff today. Seeing what you’re good at.”

“Oh.” You ran your tongue over your teeth and nodded, “Well, where do we start?”

“Archery.”

Turns out, you were pretty awful at archery. Even after you’d stopped firing arrows into the treeline, you still never hit the middle of the target. Lee had to correct your posture four times, and you broke six arrows. Eventually, you decided that Apollo was not your father, and shuffled over to where Luke stood beneath the shade of a tree — where he had been standing the whole hour.

“Y’know, just because you’ve got this broody bad boy thing going on, doesn’t mean you have to linger in the shadows all the time.” You commented, picking at your fingernails and readjusting the long sleeve you wore under your camp shirt, “You just look weird.”

Luke pointed at your cheekbone, “You’re bleeding.”

You huffed, “I know.” You kept holding your bow too close to the side of your face and the feathers of the arrows kept scratching you whenever you let them fly. Lee mentioned how most people make that mistake the first time round, but you’d done it so much that he’d cut your lesson short and told you to get a bandaid from one of his siblings. You didn’t.

He stared at your cut for a moment, like he was thinking hard about something. But he didn’t, and pushed himself off the tree he was leaning against and brushed past you, “Let’s go to the forges.”

You were better at blacksmithing than you were at archery, but the sword Charles Beckendorf was helping you weld still came out wonky and discoloured. He was a nice kid, funny, and your lowered spirits from your previous task had been quickly uplifted despite you not having much skill in his department. He let you keep the sword anyway, and you swung it jokingly at Luke as he led you to the Amphitheater.

You made swooshing noises as you did so, chuckling when he didn’t so much as flinch, “Don’t act so tough, Castellan, I could take you out even with a dodgy sword.”

“You couldn’t.” He muttered, “I’m the best sword fighter here.”

You let out an over dramatic gasp, running ahead and swivelling around so you could meet his eyes, “Holy shit, was that…did you just…tell me something about yourself?” You grinned and his frown deepened, “Aw, Luke. We’re getting somewhere! This is amazing, I’m so proud. Soon enough we’ll be best frien — “

Before you could finish your incessant teasing, Luke grabbed your forearm and yanked you in front of him just as a kid on an out-of-control Pegasus toppled past you. You watched him disappear in mild shock, before looking back at the boy in front of you, “Hey, thanks. Almost got trampled. How embarrassing.”

He narrowed his gaze, “Do you not take anything seriously?”

You shrugged, “Not really. I’d ask you the same question, but…” You made a face. It was obvious that he was very serious, even if he never used to be.

“Let’s go.” Was his boring response, moving swiftly past you and into the Amphitheatre so quickly you would’ve assumed he was trying to get away from you. (Which he definitely was).

You weren’t really all that bothered, not when you were having so much fun pissing him off.

It took all of ten minutes for Luke to put your sword fighting lesson to an end. Not only had you insisted on fighting with the wonky sword rather than a working training one, you also kept pushing him with your hands whenever he got too close.

“That’s not how you’re supposed to do it.”

“Hey, it’s working, isn’t it?”

You were pretty shit at it anyway, so you didn’t fight him when he said you were cutting your lesson short. You simply tucked your weapon onto the sheath he’d handed you and followed him down the hill to the dining pavilion.

“So, where are you from?”

He didn’t answer you for a couple of minutes, something you’d been well prepared for. But you couldn’t help but ask — he intrigued you. A little too much, maybe.

You continued, “Because you seem like a Mass guy.”

Luke stopped in his tracks, turning to you, “Mass…achusetts?”

“Yeah.” You nodded, fighting off your amused smile when he pulled a face. Finally, an expression!

Truth was, Lana had told you he was from Connecticut. You just wanted to see how he’d react, if he would react at all — apparently he isn’t immune to everything.

“I’m from CT.” He made it very clear, and you tried your hardest not to laugh. “Okay? I'm not some Boston Masshole, got it?”

You raised your hands in surrender, “Got it.”

He stared at you for a second longer, as if to ensure you really did have it. Squinting at your amused smile before nodding and continuing his walk. You thought it would go back to silence, but apparently you’d lit a fuse.

“I mean, what makes you think I'm from MA?” He asked, his tone of voice so appalled you’d think he’d been accused of some sort of crime. “Do I smell like shit?”

A chuckle, “What?”

But he just whirled on you once more, lifting his arm and gesturing to his pit, “Do I? Do I stink of shit?”

You didn’t feel like sniffing him, so you just shook your head, still laughing, “No.”

“Then what — ?” He stopped, narrowed his eyes, “Where are you from?”

You tried to hide your smile, but it was getting really difficult. The last two days he’d been nothing but broody and miserable, one word quips being his only form of communication other than dark frowns. But one mention of Mass and he’s suddenly down to chit chat? You couldn’t help but laugh — unfortunately, it only spurred him on.

“You think this is funny?” He scoffed, nodding, “Yeah, bet you’re from Maine too.”

Your laughter continued, little giggles spilling out of you whenever you thought about the situation too hard. You shrugged, “I don’t think I wanna tell you after this.”

Luke nodded like he was expecting you to say that, “Something a Mainer would say, I’m sure.”

You grinned wide, very proud of yourself for getting a visceral reaction out of the boy — even if you had to piss him off to do it. Just as you went to reply with a witty comeback that would have him ranting and raving for the rest of the night, the dinner conch sounded, interrupting what you’re sure would’ve been a very entertaining conversation.

You walked on past him, not stopping, but slowing down so you could cough into your fist, “Flatlander.”

You didn’t look back but you did hear him scoff in shock, and you were sure he stood there frozen for at least twenty seconds because he entered the pavilion way later than you did. He made a point to fix you with an annoyed stare as he sat down a few people away from you — and Chris raised a brow.

“What’d you do to him?”

You shrugged, digging into your mashed potatoes before anyone could tell you to wait until you’d made your offering, “Told him he looked like a Bay Stater.”

He chuckled, wincing under his breath and shaking his head, “You’re evil. I like it.”

You smirked and said nothing — but whenever your eyes flickered over to Luke, his were just flickering away from you.

#@lia’s works #joined a new england subreddit for this fic #so pls give it some love #taking requests #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #pjo

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save-the-villainous-cat · 19 days

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In need of some hurt comfort😭😭.

What about a tired, but stubborn hero and patient, lovely villain that slowly helps them rest? Know it's very cliché I just will always love itt(sorry for bad English)

Have an awesome day!

“Oh God,” the hero whispered. They kneeled on the ground of their kitchenfloor, staring at the white tiles. Their knees hurt, their shins burnt.

All they could do was stare at the broken mug in front of them.

It was getting worse and they could feel it. They were losing their mind, becoming more and more of a restless zombie that wandered around the city.

Now they were seeing shadows, they heard whispers. They forgot things easily and even lashed out more frequently. They could barely tell what kind of person they were anymore.

“Sweetheart…” The villain’s voice was clear and soft. At least the hero still understood that. They turned their head and looked up the villain. “…it’s three in the morning.”

“I…I wanted something. I think I was making coffee…?”

“I think you should be in bed right now,” the villain said. They kept their distance.

“What are you doing here?” the hero asked. Their gaze was glued on the mug again. A birthday gift from their parents.

They were saving people on a daily basis and their parents gave them a mug for their birthday? Weren’t they worth a little more than that? Hadn’t they actually achieved something spectacular in their relatively short life?

“I was actually going to…steal some documents from you. But I heard you and…” They didn’t have to say much more.

In the grand scheme of things, wasn’t the hero just as insignificant as everyone else? But their achievements couldn’t possibly be for nothing.

Or was this a sibling thing? Were their parents trying not to make the hero’s siblings feel left out? But even then, to be fair, the hero had accomplished more, they had been more successful, they had fulfilled their potential.

What more could their parents ask for?

What more could the hero give to them, except for their pure flesh and bone?

“I’m not really sure what you’re doing,” the villain said. “But I’m pretty sure you should be in bed.”

“I wasn’t asking for advice.”

“Consider me concerned.”

“Consider me annoyed.”

“You’re bleeding, do you know that?” the villain asked and when the hero looked down their hands, they could see it too. They had cut themselves on the shards of the mug and the hero had been too concerned with other things to realise it.

When had they become so sloppy?

“Goddammit…” They stood up — making their knees and ankles crack from sitting too long — and cursed quietly as the blood was running down their arms. They went to the sink and turned it on.

“…I’m not really supposed to talk to you when I’m stealing from you but, uh, are you okay?”

“I’m totally fine.” The hero turned off the water but that didn’t really help. The cuts were deep and they needed to stop the bleeding. Lost in their thoughts, they grabbed a dish towel and pressed it against their palms.

Now, the villain took a step forward. Then another. And another.

They grabbed the hero’s hands.

“Sometimes I don’t know what team you’re playing on. That’s a little scary.”

“Excuse me?” the hero asked.

“I can’t always tell if you’re one of the good guys or not,” the villain said. “Just let me be the bad guy to your good guy, okay? That would make it a little easier.”

“Are you asking me to be your nemesis?” the hero asked.

“I guess so. Get some more sleep. Don’t shoot at the good guys. Be a little…nicer?”

“Haven’t I done enough for the city? Haven’t I saved enough people already?” the hero asked. Suddenly, their anger boiled up again but their hands burnt enough to focus on that instead of that giant dark hole in their stomach.

“Isn’t that the thing about heroism? This doesn’t end. And you can’t ask for anything in return.”

“That’s how this works, huh?” The hero’s chuckle was empty. “I thought I’d be feeling more fulfilled.”

“I’m not really an expert when it comes to this but I know from experience that people turn into wild animals when they haven’t had enough sleep or enough food. You’re not thinking clearly.” Their hand landed on the hero’s forearm and slowly, they pulled them towards the bedroom.

“You’re pretty nice for a villain.” The villain took the bandages from the nightstand (the hero usually came in through the window, bandaged their wounds and passed out immediately on bad days) and started wrapping them around the hero’s palms.

“Say that again when I kick your ass on Monday.”

“We have a schedule now? Really?” The hero rolled with their eyes. Somehow, these nasty voices and shadows weren’t as bad as before. They didn’t feel the urge to be violent to get rid of them.

“Yes, I’m your nemesis,” the villain said. “And believe me, I’ll find out what’s going on with you.”

Wasn’t that going to be fun?

#NOT PROOOFFDDREd #americanoooooo don’t you try to catch me #writing snippet #heroxvillain prompt #heroxvillain snippet #heroes and villains #hero #villain #hero x villain #heroxvillain #an answer for an ask #request #h/c

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blakeswritingimagines · 2 months

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Stretch Marks

Aegon: He wouldn't care if someone he was with had stretch marks. He'd be too busy... enjoying you to really pay attention to them. After some time, he does enjoy it far more but still, to be honest, he wouldn't care if you had or didn't have them. I don’t think it'd even register with him.

Aemond: Stretch marks are a natural occurrence on a person's body, caused by skin stretching underneath pressure. He finds you are beautiful and he'd be thrilled to see you bearing the marks that testify to the many sacrifices you have made. He would have no problem with it if the person he loves was afflicted with stretch marks. He is not so shallow, that he would turn away one of the most beautiful creations the gods have brought into this world for something so inconsequential and natural.

Jacaerys: It is only a mark. Nothing more. A body is a beautiful thing, even if some scars are left behind. In truth, a person with marks on your body is as perfect as a person without them. Perhaps, with time. he would learn not to see them for the marks they are, but just another feature that makes you his.

Lucerys: If you developed stretch marks he wouldn’t be bothered by such a thing. They are a part of you, and he thinks your figure is beautiful with or without them.

Rhaenyra: I'll tell you what she'd think if she saw your stretch marks. She'd kiss them. She'd tell you that your body, flaws included, is perfect in her eyes. She'd worship you, because she is a lucky woman to be with you, and stretch marks don't make you any less beautiful.

Daemon: It does not make a difference to him. It would, all the same, be a testament to the person that he has decided to make his queen. It would be but a part of you, as all of you is part of you. He would not let something as insignificant as small scars bother him. In fact, he would even love such scars. It would show that no matter what happens, you are still beautiful in his eyes, and you are still his.

Alicent: She believes that stretch marks are an entirely natural part of the human experience. They are caused by a combination of factors, such as pregnancy, growth spurts, or simply due to natural body change. They should be seen as nothing more than simply that. Nothing about stretch marks is unattractive or unappealing in her eyes. In fact, it is quite the contrary. It shows the human experience and that beauty comes from flaws. She sees nothing wrong with them, and she doesn't believe anyone else should either which she makes clear as she shows pure adoration and kisses to those areas.

Helena: It’s hardly different. She would still feel the same. Stretch marks are natural. The only thing it signals is that you have matured. Grown. Changed. All very natural things. No person wants the same body as you had as a child, and she loves you all the same even developing a habit of running her fingers across your skin to relax her.

Harwin: Having a partner with stretch marks is an honor to him. He sees you as a strong and dedicated person if you have children, who have carried them into the world and given of your time and your body in service to your family. The stretch marks are not a defect, but rather a badge of courage and honor. They are the natural scars of something beautiful. He would not have his partner any other way.

Cregan: He sees no reason why it would make a difference. There is beauty in a person's curves. It shows him that you have no fear of eating and drinking. It is good to keep trim and in shape, but to have some extra curves on a person makes you more...pleasing to his eyes, one could say.

Criston: He would be remiss to ignore their presence. However, they are not cause for concern. They are signs of valor, not of weakness. He would comfort and assure you of his love and affection, which has never wavered. The scars tell of strength and commitment. They tell of a story worth hearing, and a person worth knowing or in his case bragging about.

#house of the dragon #aegon targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #jacaerys velaryon x reader #lucerys velaryon x reader #rhaenyra targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x reader #alicent hightower x reader #helena targaryen x reader #harwin strong x reader #cregan stark x reader #criston cole x reader #hotd

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brokendoor16 · 3 months

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I know that this has probably been said to death atp, but the most heartbreaking part of The Final Fifteen (™️) is that THEY WERE BOTH RIGHT.

All Crowley has ever wanted is to run away with his angel, whether it's to Alpha Centuries or just Aziraphale's bookshop. He was RIGHT to say that heaven and hell are toxic. He was RIGHT to say that they don't need them. He was RIGHT to say that he's better than that, that THEY'RE better than that. Crowley's a demon for a reason; he doesn't have faith in innate goodness, he knows that heaven and hell will break their promises. He's suffered SO FUCKING MUCH at the hands of both, and watched Aziraphale suffer for heaven's sake, and he's RIGHT to know that they deserve better.

But as much as he loves Crowley, Aziraphale could never give up on something without at least trying to fix it. There's no way that he could've just left, because that's not who he is and that's not the Angel Crowley loves. He believes SO DEEPLY in the good in the world, in the potential for change, so he could never pass up the opportunity to 'fix the system' - to make heaven a place where no one has to feel like he did again. Whether or not it works (and it will, in small, seemingly insignificant ways like the scriveners getting new offices, and the rules on who can go to earth loosening, and that little bit of rebounding kindness cycling around and around even the most toxic place), he had to try because THAT'S WHO HE IS. He's an angel in the best sense of the word, and he was RIGHT that he could make a difference. And, as much as we all hate to admit it, the metratron was RIGHT. Aziraphale will be a wonderful leader.

So I like to think that, once they get past the initial anger, despite the heartbreak they're both feeling, they understand each other.

And they're proud.

Aziraphale is proud of Crowley for acknowledging his worth and, in a smaller, guiltier way, for telling Hell exactly where to shove their job offer. He's proud of him for knowing that, even alone, he's better than that.

Crowley is proud of Aziraphale for still being the angel he fell in love with, and he's praying to someone other than God that Aziraphale is making the Metatron's life HELL (pun intended). He's proud of him for his kindness, and selflessness. He's proud of his determination to break the cycle.

#good omens #ineffable husbands #anthony j crowley #good omens 2 #aziraphale #character analysis #i am unhinged about this show #the final fifteen #i fucking love them #They love each other so much #Even when they have to let each other go #And they're so proud of each other #God this show is painful #But yk #Its fine #We live #Because they're fucking INEFFABLE

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meidnightrain · 1 month

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ALL I WANTED WAS UNWANTED ❞

summary: how does one let go of something they can’t live without?

warnings: reader is gender neutral, angst

taglist: @akutasoda, @ryuryuryuyurboat, @yvnaology

you know, what’s the problem with making a deal with the devil? no one negotiates, and he won’t take a no as an answer.

your eyes couldn’t leave the way his fingers danced across the table, the clinking of tokens ringing in your ears. it’s not the first time that you’ve been hypnotized by his peacock feathers; you would have hated yourself at some point for being so gullible and naive to land yourself here. but then again, who could ever deny AVENTURINE ? how could you refuse when your whole body and soul, every nook and cranny, belonged to him?

it was addictive, hypnotizing, alluring, and destructive. the way you clung to each other fiercely, your fingernails could leave markings on his already scarred skin. scars would heal, but the memory of pain would never fade, even with time.

“what is your choice?” he whispered in a low voice, a tone that you’d fallen victim to so many times before. his striking eyes met yours, and you could feel yourself sinking into them. the spark devoid in his eyes was more proof that you’d never come out for air, for you could never see the rays of light shining out at you as you drowned in them.

it’s clearer than that cursed stone he’s always hated carrying around—a statue of his power, heavy in his arms yet hollow inside. you can’t be together, and he can’t be with you. you deserve so much better; you deserve more than anything he could ever give you. now, he gives you a decision, he’s asking for you to let go of him.

“i know it’s selfish of me, but i want you to stay even if i don’t deserve it. i want you to love me even if i’m not worth it. i want you to tell me that we’ll be fine, even if we’re far from it. i want you to be mine even if i’m not yours.” are the words that threaten to spill from your words in a plea for you to hold him so tight that he could never break free from your embrace. to tell him that you loved him and needed him, like how the ocean needs the moon and day needs night.

doomed, you were both doomed to fall apart. a crash collision that would result in sparks flying at the impact, tearing you both apart and destroying you inside out.

sometimes, you meet the right person, but it’s at the wrong time. what if you were never supposed to fall for each other in this timeline, in this universe, and this was a fluke, a probability so small and insignificant that you would have never imagined it to occur? what if AVENTURINE was never yours to lose in the first place when you had already lost when you first kissed?

you knew that you were killing each other slowly in this gamble, that it was only a matter of time before someone folded. you dreaded when it would happen because you knew that this was the only time that you would win against him.

#🖋️- short snippets #—stellaronhvnters.#・ nouveau livre ˎˊ˗#honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr x reader #hsr x you #aventurine x reader #aventurine x you #honkai star rail angst #hsr angst #aventurine angst

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gardenofnoah · 1 year

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katsuki hates to be placated.

it stems from his childhood (because of course it does)—there was no getting through or around his abrasiveness, so the next best thing was to pin him with that tired smile. the look of resignation that was always the same, no matter who wore it. to agree to every retort, even if he was being so horribly unreasonable. to choose—overtly—the quickest way to end the argument and flee from him.

he hated it. he hated it, and he could never understand—why was he the only one who ever had any backbone? he saw his challenges and rose to them every time. he came out on top, every time. it wasn’t as if he was being purposefully combative. he just…didn’t know how else to be.

to finally understand that he himself was the challenge, and one not worth seeing through—well.

that just hurt.

so he did the only thing a child so young could think to do—he became more. more volatile, more prone to outbursts. more unpredictable and, looking back on it now, scary. but that was what made sense to him—if he was made to see those barely-veiled expressions of intolerance either way—he’d at least have control over why.

as an adult, he has a better grasp on himself and his emotions, but he wouldn’t be katsuki without that hair trigger temper and his smart ass mouth. and he feels lucky—really lucky—that he has you, because you aren’t afraid of his challenge. you meet him head on and you give it right back.

so he can’t understand why you’re standing in front of him—not even looking at him—wearing that same, appeasing grimace tonight. he doesn’t understand, and suddenly he’s 11 again—small and made to feel so, so insignificant by the way you sigh like you can’t bear to speak another word to him. by the way your lips can barely turn up at the corners, and your strained little “nothing, kat” when he asks you what your problem is.

he had only answered your questions. it might’ve been the case that his answers came through gritted teeth as he heaved himself through the door to your home. it might be true that the adrenaline from his shift still pumping hard through his veins had him a little on edge, still feeling vigilant for any outward threat. and the way you’re postured away from him, like you can’t stand another second in the same room with him, feels as threatening as any villain.

“so why the fuck are you mad at me?”

you pause, hand halfway to dropping the tea bag into the steaming mug on the counter as you turn to look at him, expression both concerned and very tired.

“mad at you?”

he balks, because he hadn’t anticipated having to actually elaborate on that, and now he feels foolish as he tries to formulate his complaint. but the anger wins out, like it always does, and his explanation comes out clipped through gritted teeth.

“you’re fuckin’—turned away from me like i’m a little pest,” he seethes, only spurred on by the way you step forward, reaching for him like you mean to pacify a child mid-tantrum.

he doesn’t even see you anymore, not really—just every other face projected over yours, until he sees red. it’s always the same—no matter how hard he tries, he is too much—

“y’think i can’t tell how bad you don’t want to be here right now? i can practically hear ya thinking of all the ways to leave this—”

“katsuki.”

you’re facing him fully now, arms crossed over your chest with a look that can only be interpreted as one of annoyance, aimed right at him.

and that gives him pause, because at least you’re honest. he just…doesn’t know what to do with that.

“what on earth are you talking about?”

and of course he can’t say it. he tries to deflect, because the walls close in and the only way out is to steamroll over you. “you—you—”

and he just wishes you’d cut him off—tell him some horrible and likely true thing about himself so he can let go of all of the venom he’s been carrying around for over a decade—but instead you wait for him to tell you what he’s thinking. he can’t bear to tell you that the only thing in his head right now is his fear.

fear that he’s too much for you, too.

“you’re actin’ like you don’t want to talk to me,” he grits out, mirroring your posture with a huff and glaring at the tile by your feet. it sounds childish when it leaves him, like he ought to have stomped his foot to end the sentence, and the shame curls up in his chest.

you’re silent for what feels like an eternity. he feels the anger burn him up when he hears you snort.

before he can snap at you, you’re wrapped around his midsection. he wants to thrash until you let go, but he’s subdued in a way that feels different. even so, his petulance remains, and he holds his arms out from his sides like you’ve got fleas.

“i’m not mad at you, you big baby,” you murmur, and he can hear the smile in your voice, even muffled by his costume. “i’m just tired, kat. i was like, 99% asleep until a minute ago. i thought we were just gonna go to bed. ”

he feels himself fight against the way he wants to deflate at your words, and this time the anger is only directed at himself. he doesn’t understand why everything has to feel so fucking hard. why every tiny shift in your body language has him feeling nauseous, or why his mind drops him at the worst case scenario and leaves him there, stranded.

“i don’t want to leave,” you answer his earlier comment, head butting him lightly in the sternum. he feels no control over his arms when they loop around your shoulders to pull you closer.

“it’s 1am and i want to sleep,” you look up to shoot him a pointed glare, but there’s no real heat behind it, “so can you shower so we can do that?”

he can only blink at you. after a long moment, your words filter down far enough for him to understand.

“i—uh. yeah.”

your lips twitch up at the corners as you pull away from him. he feels so raw that he’s unable to move, unsure how to proceed and unwilling to let you out of his sight in case it’ll be the last time he sees you.

“go on,” you say, expression softer, “i’ll be in bed when you’re done. maybe i’ll cuddle you if you’re done yelling at me.”

“‘m sorry,” he can’t manage anything louder than a whisper, and when you reach out to rest your palm over his heart, it’s far more painful than any withdrawal could have been.

“we’ll talk about it tomorrow, okay?”

“…okay.”

#he’s only a baby #he starts one sided fights over shit he makes up in his head. he’s just like me fr #bakugou x reader #bakugou x gn reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou drabble #bakugou hurt comfort #mha drabble #bkg it's the little things

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hhonghu · 1 year

Note

I am resisting the urge to bombard you with sub yandere thirsts while you're working and will limit it to only one

Sub yandere Kabukimono

He has absolutely no idea what he's feeling or why he's feeling it, but he knows he really wants you to stay with him- maybe Niwa gives him a bit of encouragement and our lovely, naïve Kabukimono takes it the obsessive wrong way?

More of a general idea than a thirst, but I really really like it

[Thirst]!

hehehe don't be shy to share more anon >:) i'm happy to see my inbox from anyone and i love this idea of sub yandere kabukimono

oh, poor kabukimono.. he feels so conflicted! he doesn't understand what he's feeling in his chest, it frustrates him! he just love's you so much, it feels wrong when you pay attention to someone else. you have have him! you have him by your side, why do you look somewhere else? the frustration gets to him so much that even niwa notices it. he couldn't help but ask what was bothering him and kabukimono almost cries out. "niwa.. i'm so upset.. [name]..", "did they do something wrong?" kabukimono shakes his head, no no! you can never do anything wrong, it was just.. "niwa.. it's just i feel so sad.. i really love [name].. i want them by my side all the time, i don't want them to keep looking at anyone else.. niwa, what do i do?"

niwa felt pity on him, he guessed that kabukimono was just feeling overwhelmed for what he feels for you. "uh.. kabukimono listen, what you feel is normal for [name]. they love you back, don't they? they love you just as much you love them, there's no need to be insecure." but kabukimono shakes his head again, it is not enough. "niwa.. you don't understand.. this feeling.. i want them all for myself, there is no one else suited for them other than me. no one can compare to me, ever." niwa's eyes widen, kabukimono changed. but he shakes it away, chalking it up to his intense love for you.

"i'm sure that you're right, you don't worry about it much. they wouldn't confess their love for you if they didn't feel the same way. they know your worth to them, kabukimono and you've proven yourself that." niwa pats his back to add for comfort, "their yours, everyone knows that. if you want, you can ask [name] to prove it to you." niwa thinks that kabukimono just needed reassurance from you, afterall you were popular with people and he was just as a student learning a craft, so it was understandable that kabukimono would feel rather insignificant if there was other people next to you most of the time.

kabukimono thought for a second before agreeing with niwa. that's right, [name] could prove to me that i'm the only one for them and no one else. kabukimono thanked niwa and decided to come visit you tonight.

when night came, he set out to your home and knocked. he didn't tell you he was coming over so you assumed it was someone else and opened the door to reveal a seemingly desperate kabukimono and lett him in. "ah, darling, it's you. you should've—" you cut yourself off, feeling his body crashing into yours. you wrapped your arms around him before your back hits the ground making your groan in pain. "o-ow! darling, is something the matter?" he nuzzles his head to your chest and nods, pitiful sounds can be heard escaping his lips. you lay your head down on the floor and brought your hand to his head, carding through his hair with your fingers. "what's wrong?"

"[name].. i'm yours.. please.. i can't take it anymore... you can't have anyone else.. i—" he hiccups as pretty tears slide down his cheek, his hands roaming around your body and pawing at your shirt as if you'll disappear. you glace at him confused before cooing at him, how cute. "[na-name], please.. say i'm yours.. i belong to you.. that hic— there can't be anyone else, right?" his glossy eyes bore back into yours and you nod. "of course, there isn't anyone anyone else i want than you. i love you and you love me, don't you?" he nods, sniffling at your words. "you're mine. your heart, your mind, and your body is all mine. you're a smart boy, darling. you belong to me and no one else." you can feel him hump your thigh, not so subtly rocking his hips as you keep saying words of possession to him. kabukimono felt his entire feel warm, he needed to hear more. he wanted more of you to stake claim of him.

he sat up on your thighs and began to loosen his shirt, pulling it down to reveal his already hardened nipples. his hands grabs yours, slowly dragging until it reaches his chest, his fingers guiding your thumb to press on his hard nubs, making him moan. "i-it's not enough.. prove it.. play with me, [name]. do anything to me, please.." you stare in awe before smiling.

"of course, darling."

heheheeh yandere kabukimono innocently feeling sily to kill people bc they're a little too close to you lol. thank you anon for the food!! ^^

#ems.writes #ems.nsfw #ems.thirsts #scaramouche smut #sub scaramouche #sub!scaramouche #kabukimono smut #sub kabukimono #sub!kabukimono

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kisakis-boyfriend · 7 months

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May I request something with dragon Freminet? I’m not… entirely sure how do to this, but a friend introduced me to the concept and it won’t leave me alone now. Dragony boy, like Neuvilette- or maybe Yanfei would be a more apt comparison, for a part human one. Something soft if possible? Headcanons or some sort of scenarjo

Dragon Freminet

Pairings: Freminet x reader

Warnings: GN!reader, Dragon!Freminet, all fluff + a tiny bit of hurt/comfort

Genre/Format: Fluff; Headcannons

Author's Note: Oooohh Dragon Freminet is a cute idea! I took a few liberties with his design, though he is still depicted as mostly human. I hope you enjoy these, anon :3

Please check my blog title to verify whether requests are closed or not! Thank you!

Cryo Dragon Freminet who's such a sensitive soul. He's only capable of partially understanding human emotions, though when he does feel them they hit him hard. Overwhelming waves of sadness, joy, despair, anxiety, or love that empty his mind of anything else

Oftentimes you're the only person who can help him deal with these emotions. Helping him through bouts of despair or profound sadness, sometimes prompted by insignificant things such as accidentally dropping something. It's enough to bring forth a flood of tears from the poor boy, but you're more than willing to help him

You'll reassure him of his worth, tell him over and over again that he is not a failure. Remind him of how strong he is while cupping his freckled cheeks, kiss his pretty lips and nose until that smile that you love so much comes back

Dragon Freminet who is the biggest cuddle monster of them all. Especially when he has a loving partner to cuddle up with! He basks in your warmth and comfort whenever you're kind enough to indulge his needs. With arms wrapped around his torso and your legs tangled with his, resting underneath his favorite blanket that his Father gifted him, Freminet purrs from deep within his chest

It's a deep rumbling unlike anything else in this world. The content (or distressed/threatening) sounds of an elemental dragon can influence a human's emotions, causing the human to either feel complete relief and safety or fear/terror, if the dragon is threatening them

Dragon Freminet who's embarrassed by your endless stream of compliments about his draconic features. You ask him to open his mouth a bit so that you can catch a peak of his terribly sharp fangs, carefully tapping their points with the pad of your thumb as you admire them. Or staring into his gorgeous blue eyes, memorizing the swirls of multiple colours mixed in

Even finding the time to coo about how cool his true form looks! While Freminet is quite small compared to other dragons and dragon adjacent beings, he is massive compared to humans, easily towering over you like a god. You stare up at him during one of the rare moments when he actually reveals his true form, wide-eyed and unable to move in pure awe at the sight of your boyfriend before you

Dragon Freminet who adores winter activities, as most of them make him feel connected to his element, cryo. He begs you to play in the snow with him, or to teach you how to ice skate! You do have to remind him that your human body can't withstand the cold in the same way that his can though...yours needs breaks to warm back up unless you want to get sick...

And Freminet will happily oblige, bringing you back inside and hugging you tightly to help you warm up. He'll breathe on your icy hands and envelope them within his own, covering your fingers with his until your skin is pleasantly warm. If he's feeling particularly bold Freminet might pull you closer and breathe down your neck, hot puffs of breath that cause you to warm up incredibly quick, especially your cheeks

Dragon Freminet who keeps multiple hordes of items. Collecting different mechanical parts and scraps that catch his eye, broken down gardemeks, gears, and children's toys that are no longer on the market. He also has a more intimate horde of things related to you in some way. Things that you give him, trinkets he thinks you would like, even a few things from your past that you gifted to him specifically for this collection. These things are his most precious treasures, besides you of course. You'll always be his number one treasure 💙

Reblogs are extremely appreciated <3

#my writing #genshin impact #genshin impact fluff #genshin fluff #genshin x reader #freminet #freminet x reader #freminet fluff #gn reader #gender neutral reader #halloween specials 🎃#dragon au #requested #genshin headcanons #headcannons

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scoobydoodean · 3 months

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Okay, now that I have finished 4.16 "On The Head of A Pin", it's time for a Uriel post, because Uriel makes a whole lot of sense and I don't think he gets enough credit for it.

Supernatural starts out introducing us to only three angels: Cas, Uriel, and Anna. And all of them are feeling or have felt the effects of heaven's iron fist—heaven's desire to control their lives, their thoughts, and all of their actions. Anna has already rebelled and fallen, and Cas AND Uriel are having serious doubts—doubts they are afraid to really speak to each other about candidly. We see this starting in 4.07.

In 4.07 "It's The Great Pumpkin, Sam Winchester", Uriel and Cas were given orders to tell Dean to leave so they could smite the town and keep the seal from being broken by Samhain's rise. However, their true orders were not to intervene or force Dean to leave. If Dean refused to leave town or wanted to follow another path, they had orders to stand by and watch it happen.

Cas is ultimately pretty okay with this, because he had severe reservations about smiting the town and was troubled to think that could truly be heaven's will. He prayed that Dean would choose to save the town, but he's also aware of the "ends justify the means" angle, and thinks maybe he can't see the full picture and god can, so he can kind of... see both sides and maybe how all those lives were worth the seal from another perspective. This whole thing leaves him troubled... but Uriel is far more troubled.

Uriel thinks they should have wiped the town off the map, and he makes his resentment very clear—calls humans "Savages, just plumbing on two legs". He is certain that Dean will fail, and they will lose this seal, because humans are weak and stupid. And Sam and Dean do end up failing to prevent Samhain's rise—so his perspective is reinforced. He's angry that he's at the mercy of a human—someone he doesn't respect—and heaven is just letting this happen. He's furious about these orders that simply make no sense... but he can't talk to anyone about it—not even really Cas. When Uriel starts bad-mouthing humans, Cas warns him that he's close to blasphemy... and then Uriel actually suggests that they defy their orders. We know from Anna that this is an offense punishable by DEATH. What Uriel's suggesting is a HUGE deal. It's dangerous to even say it out loud.

The thing is, I don't think that Uriel is actually working for Lucifer yet in 4.07. In fact, we know he isn't working for Lucifer yet in 4.07 because he's very clear that he wants to prevent the seal being broken at all costs—to the point he's considering disobedience! I think Uriel deciding to work to free Lucifer is something that happens between 4.10 "Heaven and Hell" and 4.16 "On The Head of A Pin", as Uriel wrestles with his doubt in god and heaven with no one he can truly confide in without risking literal death.

CASTIEL: And any rate, it’s out of our hands. URIEL: It doesn’t have to be. CASTIEL: And what would you suggest? URIEL: That we drag Dean Winchester out of here and then we blow this insignificant pinprick off the map. CASTIEL: You know our true orders. Are you prepared to disobey?

Cas's words are as good as a threat—and Uriel recognizes them as such. He stares at Cas and goes silent, scared to say another word at the risk that Cas will report him or try to smite him.

I think Uriel is aware that Cas also has doubts and confusion about their orders, and that's why he hopes and tries to confide in Cas about his frustrations in 4.07—but the big difference between Uriel and Cas is that Uriel resents humanity like Lucifer did, while Cas loves humanity. Cas calls humanity "works of art" at the end of this episode, and their placement in the park in this scene, and later, Cas and Dean's placement in the park at the end of the episode—is a nod to the comfort that Cas—like Dean—receives from knowing these humans are alive because Dean refused to leave—whether they lost the seal or not! So Cas isn't going to be budged on this. Uriel is suggesting they disobey in a way that Cas wouldn't choose even if he was willing to consider disobedience to heaven at this point (which he isn't—he won't start considering disobeying until 4.16).

There's a fascinating deleted scene (deleted scene 2 here) in 4.10 where Uriel again vents his frustrations with heaven's bizarre orders to Cas. Once again, things haven't gone their way, and Uriel thinks Sam is responsible for part of it. But Cas says the order's come down from heaven that they aren't allowed to touch Sam—and then Uriel says he'll kill Ruby at least—only for Cas to say they aren't allowed to harm her either. Uriel is furious, and again Cas proves to be a very dangerous person to confide in:

URIEL You're joking! CASTIEL I don't joke. URIEL You mean we can't hunt a demon?! What's going on up there?! CASTIEL Clearly, they feel she has a part to play. URIEL It's crap. It's crap! And, you-- Forget about it! CASTIEL You are proposing disobedience. Like Anna. You know what I'll have to do.

Why is heaven defending demons? Why is heaven leaving the choice on how to handle breaking seals in the hand of a defiant human with no sense of the big picture? Uriel enjoyed getting a chance to wail on Dean in 4.10. He said he'd enjoy it—partly because of Dean's defiant attitude, but I also I think because Dean represents that first broken seal—he represents humanity's weakness (Uriel hates Dean for breaking—we know this from the end of 4.07 when he tells Sam he can knock Dean down a peg by asking him about Hell). He is no righteous man—Uriel doesn't believe in him for an instant. Heaven's orders are cryptic and confusing which already gives Uriel doubts in heaven's competence... but even worse, Dean's defiance reinforces that Heaven is the losing side here. They aren't going to stop the seals from breaking—not if this is their righteous man... someone who can't even follow orders—the one thing Heaven demands above all. If Uriel showed a fourth of the defiance Dean did, he'd be killed on the spot, but this human gets to mouth off to Uriel and there are no consequences.

So sometime between 4.10 and 4.16, Uriel begins disobeying. Uriel hates Dean—that's been made clear many times. But in 4.16, suddenly, Uriel responds to Dean's defiance toward heaven's orders with a laugh instead of threats and anger. He says,

Ah, this one just won't quit, will he? I think I'm starting to like you, boy.

Why the turn around on his feelings about Dean? Because between 4.10 and 4.16, Uriel started acting on his doubts and encouraging other angels to join him in disobedience. He started working to free Lucifer... so now, when he looks at Dean's defiance, he feels a kinship—he allows himself to feel recognition of his own resentment toward heaven—his own defiance of heaven's senseless orders. That certainly doesn't mean he likes Dean now (he's still plotting to kill him—now for the purposes of freeing Lucifer) but the defiance that infuriated him before is now... validating.

URIEL Not murders, Castiel. No. My work is conversion. How long have we waited here? How long have we played this game by rules that make no sense? CASTIEL It is our father's world, Uriel. URIEL Our father? He stopped being that, if he ever was, the moment he created them. Humanity, his favorites. This whining, puking larva.

Uriel hates humans, and he remembers Lucifer as someone who stood up to heaven.

URIEL You do remember him? How strong he was? How beautiful? And he didn't bow to humanity. He was punished for defending us. Now, if you want to believe in something, Cas, believe in him.

Uriel didn't really want to kill the other angels? He doesn't want to kill Cas in 4.16 either. He killed the angels who wouldn't join him because if he didn't, they'd reveal his disobedience and he'd be killed.

So through Anna, and Cas, and Uriel—we see the impact of heaven's senseless orders and brainwashing—the effects of the cult-like environment they're in and how each one doubts, and then eventually rebels. Anna rebels first, then Uriel... and next will be Cas. And what's interesting, is that in 4.16, Cas straight up tells Anna that he's considering disobedience, and then begs her to tell him what to do. I mentioned before that a part of Cas (in season 4) finds comfort in choices being out of his hands when he has doubts. Anna tells him to think for himself. But then right after that, Uriel asks Cas to join him... and Cas won't even consider it. So why? Cas is terrified to fall, but he's starting to think maybe he has to, and then Uriel gave him an opportunity and he said "no"—and he said no because, just like we saw in 4.07, Cas is in love with humanity. He could never align himself with Uriel and Lucifer, because they hate the humans Cas loves. In season 4, Cas's understanding of his love for humanity is primitive—he associates it with his love for god, as if he loves humanity only because they're his father's creations. He reiterates this sort of framing when Uriel is pummeling him in 4.16.

CASTIEL You can't win, Uriel. I still serve God. URIEL You haven't even met the man. There is no will. No wrath. No God.

Uriel is right about god—but then Anna steps up behind him and stabs him through the throat—and says:

ANNA Maybe. Or maybe not. But there's still me.

Anna, the angel who fell to earth and became human—tells us "there is still me". Anna—who, like Cas, is in love with humanity. There is no god, but there are still angels in love with humanity.

#what are thursdays for if not a barely coherent rambling post about uriel #in love with humanity #uriel #anna #heaven as a cult #4.07 #4.16 #4.10 #pk rewatches spn number ?#time to think for yourself #are you prepared to disobey #castiels motivations

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chubs-deuce · 2 months

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Charlastor brainworms anon here again. I was reading your reply to a recent ask and i have to say I agree, and also it's really silly to me that some people act like charlastor is some kind of morally dubious ship.

I don't think anyone's here to ship this because they want it to be canon, it's honestly just for fun! There's nothing wrong with it being non-canon compliant.

As an aroace lesbian, charlie isn't even lesbian herself, just in a lesbian relationship. So many ships split up canon pairings anyway, it's not something new. And i think people tend to forget aromanticism and asexuality are broad spectrums, it's not a black and white one or the other. The aroace label can encompass a lot of different identities, and there are many ways to pair alastor and charlie while still respecting his identity. He could be romance favorable, or they could be queer platonic, or people could just generally have different headcanons for him. It's also very telling that I don't see people bringing up how he's aroace nearly as much with radioapple or other ships. Fan works don't have to be an exact mirror of whatever's canon, and that's not the serious issue that some people act like it is.

Right?

I've generally noticed in recent years that people act so much more viciously towards non-canon ships when they're het-presenting.... :')

I think a lot of it has to do with how fandoms generally tend to assign more inherent moral value towards more visibly queer pairings... Combine that with the bs that is twitter's infestation of performative activism and morality policing in modern age fandom culture and this is the result lol

What gets me is the sheer fucking hypocrisy of it all tbh?

People keep conflating Aromantic and Asexual and confusing them with one another in their anti posting about this ship and it will never not be the bane of my goddamn existence tbh, especially because they're not even consistent with what ships they apply this criticism to, as you've also pointed out.

I will personally assume that anyone who can't tell these two labels apart and acts like they're one and the same yet whines about shippers not respecting Alastor's canon sexuality is probably nobody worth listening to anyways.

Charlie btw is canonically bisexual, and the amount of blatant fucking bi erasure I keep seeing people do just to feel morally superior for calling her a lesbian like it's a clever argument against a non-canon ship is so tiring...

Ultimately the best course of action is to silently block and ignore them.

Can we go back to that era of the internet where people would explore shipping two characters just because they stood next to each other for three frames or because their color schemes match or something equally insignificant?

We had so much more fun getting creative with how we just made random dolls kiss for fun back then :(

#charlastor #radiobelle #chubs answers #negative post

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tinytinyblogs · 8 months

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Much Better

You summoned his spirit, and he was eager to help you, but he required your soul as payment.

⚠demon!San, dark theme⚠

Ateez masterlist here

"But darling, in case you didn't know, everything has a price. If you want my help, you must be prepared to pay me back." His sinister smile widened, and the atmosphere around him became unbearably heavy. Sitting in front of him, you felt small and insignificant, as if he towered over you. You nodded your head, knowing full well that there was a price to pay for summoning him. Performing that ritual in your small apartment in the middle of the night was a foolish decision. You knew the risks involved, and yet you still did it. Now you have a demon to deal with.

The demon loved it when a helpless, pure soul summoned him. Especially you. He sensed something in you that made him feel more powerful than ever. And this meant that if you thought you could escape him, you were wrong. "So tell me, darling," he purred, placing his large hand on your cheek. "Who was the person who made my baby so mad?" He enjoyed your presence and your small figure. He felt like he could have everything he wanted from you. He had never really cared about another human before, but you were different.

Your eyes welled up with tears before you could even speak. The demon gently brushed your reddened cheek with his thumb. "My baby is as vulnerable as a kitten." he said. "I could give them a nightmare they would never forget." You felt a strange warmth spreading through you at his touch. His figure was alluring, and his eyes were so beautiful that they almost seemed angelic.

He listened to your every word, as you sobbed and let out all of your heartbroken memories. He nodded his head and smirked. This world did not deserve you, but he did. He was glad that you had summoned him, rather than the other demons. He would shut them down, and do whatever you wanted him to do to the people you hated the most in the world. It was no big deal to him, and it was worth it, because he would get something for himself in return: your pure soul.

The demon looked at you with pity. "How could this world treat you like that?" he asked. "You are so innocent and pure. You deserve so much better than this." He pulled you closer and leaned near your ears, whispering softly, "I'm San, by the way. I will protect you from now on. You don't need to be afraid anymore. I am better than the shitty people in this world. Your life will be much better with me, my darling." San whispered the last sentence. He now claimed you as his own, and no one could take you away from him. He would shield you with his magic spell.

"Now go to sleep, sweetie. You look tired." He sent you to bed that night, and you closed your eyes, forgetting all the pain for a while. But even though you were asleep, you could still feel his presence around you. It made you shiver, and you could feel a headache coming on. You simply nodded your head and gave him one last look before falling asleep. You didn't want to think about what you had been through, or what you were even doing with your life.

For San, the demon, once he disappeared from your sight that night after you let out all the thoughts in your head, he knew where he was going and what he was going to do. He enjoyed his little show, and he enjoyed the actions he was going to take. It was no big deal to him. It was all just entertainment for him, giving people nightmares that they would never forget for the rest of their lives.

Waking up in the middle of the night is never fun, especially when you're in a deep sleep. But it's even worse when you see San, standing beside your bed, smiling ear to ear. He's admiring you while you sleep in the cold and silent night he stood in your dark bedroom while you slept. His presence made you feel even more uneasy, but you can't help but notice the bloodstain on his shirt. His smile still on his face. "Don't worry, my love," he says. "The blood is not mine."

He did it. He granted your wish. He did everything you asked of him. The demon really came through for you. But now he's here to collect his due. He's here to take what he's owed. He spoke in a low tone, but you could hear the determination in his voice. "They will never bother you again," he said. "They will never lay their hands on you ever again. They will never because they are no longer able to." The people who had hurt you were no longer a threat. They were gone.

You sat on your bed in the darkness, listening to the clock ticking. Your breath was coming in short gasps. He had done what you had asked him to do. He had made sure that no one would ever hurt you again. But now you were starting to have doubts. Were you sure that this was the best choice? Were you supposed to be happy now? "I make it happen," he said. "Aren't it sound good? That no one will ever hurt you again, love."

You couldn't help but wonder what had happened to the people you hated the most in the world. You had summoned a demon to punish them, and you knew that they would suffer. But what about you? Would you be okay? Would your life turn out as bad as theirs?

You could see the demon's grin even in the darkness. He was the happiest one in the room. You wondered if it was a good thing that he was so happy. "Now what?" you whispered. You didn't have the energy to speak any louder. The demon had already taken so much of your energy. You felt weak and drained. "Come on, love," he said. "You know what it is."

You could smell the blood on him, and the clock ticking sound was now becoming so irritating. You asked him, "What do you want me to do?" He hummed in response. San leaned closer, cutting the pace between the two of you. "Nothing," he said. "I don't want you to do anything." You knew that you shouldn't get lost in his eyes, but you couldn't help it. His gaze was so captivating, and it felt like he could see right through you.

You could feel yourself falling under his spell, and you knew that you were in danger. But you couldn't look away. His eyes were a deep, dark brown, and they seemed to glow in the darkness. They were full of power and danger. "I don't need you to do anything, little one," he said. "No need to." He had done it. He had found himself a pure soul to bind to him. And it was going to be so much fun.

"You don't need to do anything. Just be pretty and come with me. I don't need you to do anything else. I just need your soul." He touched your face with his cold, bloody hand. He rubbed his thumb against your cheek. You were stuck. You couldn't run away. He would never let you go. "You will be so much happier with me," he said. "Your life will be so much better." In the cold of night, in the midst of darkness, and under his spell, he locked you away from the world and took you into his own.

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ashensgrotto · 11 months

Text

The Sea's Sacrifice (Part 1)

Characters: AzulAshengrotto / Jade Leech / Floyd Leech x F!Reader

Total Word Count: 14.7k+

Part 1 (You are Here) Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Synopsis: A potential job as a marine biologist’s assistant leaves (Y/N) feeling something fishy going on behind the scene…

Author's Notes: Original Idea came from @merakiui 's annonymous ask with a short story / headcannon -> https://www.tumblr.com/merakiui/684490143936167936/ooohhh-i-love-those-writing-ideas-you-had-for-sea?source=share

and I absolutely love this concept and wanted to take it a step further. I don't write yandere nor fanfiction as much as I did a few years ago. However, I do hope I do this piece justice; I will had links to the next part once it is completed and ready for viewing.

Also, this is a work of fiction. I disagree anyone that justifies the following behaviors which are represented in this fic (if I think of more, I will add them as I go):

rape/non-consent/dub-consent, possessive/controlling/dominating behaviors, and manipulation

Cruel and cold like winds on the seas

Will you ever return to me

Hear my voice sing with the tide

My love will never die

Over waves and deep in the blue

I will give up my heart for you

***

If someone were to tell you that you’d eventually be pulled into the wrong end of the sea by, not one but three, unknown sea creatures - you’d probably laugh your head off, thinking they’ve lost their mind.

But how wrong you’d be.

When you had initially applied to work at Twisted Wonders - an emporium of oddities that were collected and studied by the greatest minds in existence - you thought you’d be taking an everyday desk job; answering phone calls, scheduling tours, directing visitors… that sort of thing.

Never in your right mind would you believe that you would be working alongside the Dire Crowley - director and owner of Twisted Wonders. Mr. Crowley was an acclaimed renowned genius with an air that was both mysterious and alluring. He was approximately 170 cm in height (five feet, seven inches) and wore rich tailored clothing made of silks and leather with gold embroidery and jewels embedded into the vest and belt; of course, he upped his strange allure by consistently wearing a heavy leather overcoat that hung to his frame, decorated in black feathers - real or faux, no one was sure, a top hat that perched on his head, and a mask of black that reminded you of a crow - his arched nose hidden under the long rim of the mask that poked out like a beak.

“Here’s the deal, (Y/N),” Mr. Crowley spoke, reclining back in his desk chair as a pair of golden eyes peered out from behind the mask, “We’ve recently acquired three creatures that need to be observed. My team, however, has been unsuccessful at getting remotely close to studying them. They seem to think that an outsider might have a higher success rate at being able to approach them more than any of us will due to their knowing who we are.”

“So, what is it exactly that you want me to do?”

“I want you to observe them,” Mr. Crowley spoke, pushing a contract towards you, “You will work with my group of scientists for about three months as well as the three creatures. You are to notate anything and everything you see the trio doing - how they eat, sleep, react with each other, and so forth - and document everything for our records, no matter how insignificant it is. If you prove your worth and competence within those three months, you will be moved to another position within the facility of your choosing.”

“And that’s it? That’s all I need to do?”

“That’s it.”

‘Seems pretty easy for a payment of twenty dollars an hour…’ you thought as you looked down at the contract before, “And this is my… compliance, right?”

“That would be correct, as well as a safety and confidentiality agreement,” Mr. Crowley answered, offering a pen in your direction.

You took the instrument and wrote your name across the bottom of the page on the dotted line.

“Alright,” Dire Crowley took the contract and stood, pressing a buzzer on his desk, “with everything in order, I’ll have Grimsley take you to meet Divus Crewel and Mozus Trein - the overseers of our aquatic project.”

“I’m sorry, did you say aquatic?” your eyes widened in surprise.

“Dear me, did I forget to mention that part?” Mr. Crowley tapped his chin, his glowing eyes looking up toward the ceiling before returning to rest on your features, “Our newest arrivals are of the oceanic nature - I’ve never met or seen them myself, however Professor Crewel and Professor Trein will be able to go over the basics with you and introduce you to the trio in question.”

“As long as they don’ forget the good stuff!” a snarky voice spoke from behind.

You turned in your chair toward the door to see the man who must’ve been Grimsley.

He was about 163 cm in height with pale skin and dark gray hair with tufts of flame blue poking out in random directions. His eyes also were flame blue and held mischief in their depths that matched the smirk on his face as a set of sharp teeth peered out from behind thin lips. He wore a suit of black with a vest that matched his hair, a black and white-striped tie, and a white dress shirt. Leather loafers padded softly against the carpeted flooring of Crowley's office as he held out a black leather gloved hand in greeting.

"Grimsley Overblot," the man smiled like a Cheshire cat, "I'm Mr. Crowley's henchman and errand runner here at Twisted Wonders."

"(Y/N) (L/N)," you answer, taking Grimsley's hand with a shake, "pleasure to meet you."

“Grimsley, go ahead and take (Y/N) to see the good professors,” Dire Crowley spoke, a satisfied smile on his features, “I’m sure the two are more than ecstatic to meet her.”

***

As it turns out, both men were ecstatic to meet you - though Professor Trein was a bit more reserved about it versus his partner.

Trein's appearance matched his personality - his posture indicated a "no nonsense" aura as did his unchanging features. His lips would quirk into a small smile before they would fall to a straight line as his dark eyes settled on your uneasy form, as if he enjoyed watching you squirm like a germ under the microscope. He was dressed as any scientist would; a heavy white lab coat that fell to his knees hung around his frame that covered a white dress shirt and charcoal-colored dress pants and loafers. His hair was gray with streaks of white and wrinkles covered every inch of his face and neck. He also wore a set of white pristine gloves and had a cravat around his neck with a singular emerald gem that held the cloth together.

As for his partner, Professor Crewel was a bit more… eccentric. Crewel had a sort of energy about him that reminded you of a young dog - not a puppy, but not an adult either. He was always cocking a smile that bore teeth, chuckling when he patted the top of your head as he called you "puppy." His clothing matched his laidback ideals too - a heavy black and white fur coat with a red silk lining covered the charcoal gray dress shirt and pants. His vest was black on one side, white on the other, and wore a red tie that matched the gloves on his hands.

“So,” Crewel spoke after introductions, pulling a cigarette out of his pants pocket and lighting the object, “any questions before we get you set up?”

“I guess my big question is what exactly will I be working with?” you ask.

“We believe the trio to be mers, but they’re not your typical ones,” Trein explained with a sniff as his features twisted at the smell of Crewel’s smoke, “All three of them have the upper bodies of men, but lower halfs of sea creatures. Two of the three half the lower half of what we believe to be that of a moray eel and the third the lower half of an octopus. The twins are typically more curious of the three, though they can be aggressive. Several of our closest colleagues were attacked by the duo after accidentally disturbing them - their bites have left scars and one of our colleagues actually lost their leg from their attack.”

“... and you don’t think I will?” you had to question, the comment coming out high-pitched.

“Well, moray eels - specifically - will attack only if they have been disturbed,” Crewel answered nonchalantly, “We believe there are similarities between the animals and the mers, which is why we are gathering as much information as we can. We want to know what the similarities and differences are between moray eels and the twins.”

“Okay, but I still don’t see how I won’t get attacked by those two. And what about the third?”

“You won’t be attacked as long as you stay still and don’t make any sudden movements,” Trein answered, “Once they get used to you, you’ll know.”

“As for the third,” Crewel answered, “he’s a cecaelia - half man, half octopus.”

You blink, “Don’t moray eels eat octopi?”

“Typically, yes,” Trein answered, “which is strange, in this case. The trio were originally found off the coast in the Coral Sea - living in harmony with each other. When we brought them here, the moray mers have consistently been surrounding the grotto that is in the enclosure - the cecaelia hiding within and rarely comes out. We think that the cecaelia may have raised the morays, but we’re not completely sure.”

“And it’s been a devil of a time trying to get a glimpse of him too,” Crewel shook his head, eyes rolling to the ceiling.

“You mean you haven’t seen him? Not once?”

“I saw him when he was first brought into the enclosure,” Trein sighed, “however, it was dark and I couldn’t see him very well - the eels could be seen because of the bioluminescence that exists within their bodies, allowing us to see their figures.”

“Speaking of which, come,” Crewel rested a hand to the small of your back, “let’s get you acquainted with our aquatic trio, hm?”

Crewel and Trein led you to the opposite end of their laboratory where a large glass wall stood with a set of double doors that led to what appeared to be the edge of a massive pool. Once inside, the smell of fish and humidity tickled your nose as the sound of lapping of water reverberated in the slightly dimmed room; the only light being illuminated from the pool itself. The gray walls stretched high, the ceiling covered by long triangular beams that permitted the echoes of voices and lapping water in the room. One the far left was a coat rack and a small freezer with a large fan blowing the heated air around the room.

“When you come in - which will be about six-thirty each morning, you’ll hang your coat on the rack and put your lunch in the freezer before feeding your charges,” Crewel explained, walking over to the freezer and lifting the lid, “We always restock the food the night before, so you don’t have to worry about not having anything in here for the day. There will be nine buckets total in the freezer - three for the morning, three for noon, three for dinner - so make sure you dump all three buckets in the water, but don’t toss the actual bucket into the water.”

“What’s in them?” you ask, wrinkling your nose at the mixture within the buckets.

“A collection of shellfish - shrimp, crab, clam, lobster - and assorted fish are what they primarily eat,” Crewel answered as he closed the lid to the freezer, “We’ve tried feeding the moray twins octopi - but they refuse to touch it and often threw it at the feeders when they came in. Also, feel free to wear something comfortable. The water temperature varies from 45℉ to as low as 39℉ so we have to offset that with the atmosphere in our enclosure here at approximately 77℉ to 85℉ - never mind that one of the twins likes to splash newcomers right off the bat.”

“So, shorts are ok?”

“Shorts would be preferred, so yes,” Crewel nodded.

“But not too short - lower thigh length to knee length is acceptable,” Trein chided, “you are also permitted to wear sandals within the enclosure as well as a t-shirt or tank top due to the humidity. However, if you do choose sandals and tank tops - please bring a spare pair of tennis shoes to wear on the way in and on the way out as closed toed and heels are required within the labs and main building as well as something to keep your shoulders covered; this is a place of employment, not enjoyment.”

When you nod, Trein continued.

“After you feed them their breakfast, take a seat and use the notebooks over here to document any findings,” Trein walks to the opposite end of the enclosure, opening a locker filled with office supplies, “Take whatever you think you might need for the day and have a seat at the edge of the pool and begin your observations. It might take a few days before one of the twins actually approaches you, but once they do, you should be able to start the observations with no problems. During your first few days, remember to stay still - morays attack when startled or provoked, which we don’t want to happen. You’ll let them come to you and, hopefully once you get acquainted, you’ll be able to do your observations with no trouble at all.”

“Alright.”

“Your shift will be twelve hours total,” Trein also explained, “you will be expected to eat lunch with the trio and feed them their supper before you leave for the night at six pm and place any of your notes back in the locker here for Crewel or I to collect at the end of the day. When you leave, make sure the door is locked. Typically, we will be here until eight, so we often check the door on our way out - but just so you are aware, the door does get stuck on occasion; you may need to knock on the door a few times and one of us or our staff will get you out.”

You nod again.

“Alright, are there any questions?” Crewel asked.

“No, I think I’ve got it.”

“Very well,” Trein smiles, “We’ll see you tomorrow at six sharp - no later.”

“Thank you very much for this opportunity,” you bow your head to both of them before shaking each of their offered hands as the two escorted you out of the enclosure - none of you aware of the two sets of heterochromia eyes that watched your figure from below the water’s surface.

***

One week passes slowly as you go through the motions as the Twisted Wonders aquatic observer.

Every morning, you arrive at quarter to six and greet Crewel and Trein at their laboratory doors. After they unlock and head into their own offices, you make your way to the enclosure and place your bag on the coat rack and the brown paper bag that contains your lunch in the freezer before hauling out the three of the nine gallon-sized buckets one at a time and dump the contents into the water, watching a little bit to see if anything will appear to snatch up a meal as the fish disappear into the murky depths of the pool. After watching the last piece of morsel disappear into the depths, you turn toward the locker, grabbing notebooks, pens and anything else you think you need and take a seat at the edge of the pool.

As the hours pass by, you jot notes down about anything you see - which is nothing.

7:30am: Ripples of water, no sign of the creatures

10:30am: Still no sign of the creatures

12:30pm: Fed mers, no sign of breaking the surface yet - maybe they know I am waiting for them and want nothing to do with me?

2:30pm: Still no sign

4:30pm: I heard a splash, but saw nothing. Maybe they’re nervous?

6:00pm: Fed the mers their supper - Hoping to get a sign of them before I leave today.

Day after day after day, the notes were the same: No sign. No sign. No sign.

By the end of the first week, you were beginning to wonder if you actually would ever see the creatures or if they even existed - or even, heaven forbid, if you were a test subject yourself for believing that there were mers that lived in the enclosure.

When Saturday morning came, you trudged into the enclosure with a heavy sigh and slowly began to begin the day’s events. Everything you did now seemed slower as the hope of seeing something otherworldly began to diminish like smoke. You pulled the first bucket of food out of the freezer and brought it to the edge of the pool, dumping the contents in before standing to return the bucket to the side of the freezer when something slimy and light hit the back of your head. Your hand instinctively reached up and brushed the hair behind your head, feeling traces of water and slime. You looked down to see what hit you, finding the bottom half of an unidentifiable colored fish laying behind you.

Your eyes shifted to look out into the pool - but no movement or any indication that something had thrown the half of the fish at you could be seen.

‘Maybe I’m just imagining things,’ you thought as a sigh escaped your lips, picking up the fish and dropping it into the second bucket before it was dumped over the edge of the pool as well.

As you turned your back to grab the last bucket, again something smacked against the back of your head, a clicking sound following shortly afterwards.

‘Ok,’ you thought, a slight smirk appearing on your features as you picked up the large hunk of lobster from the ground, ‘whoever or whatever you are, I’m assuming you want to play. Well, let’s play.’

You grab the last bucket and dump the contents into the water and kneel at the edge - watching like a cat watches a mouse before pouncing. A few moments pass before you feel your back begin to strain, forcing you to stand. As you do, a whole king prawn nearly smacks you in the face as another round of clicking echoes in the enclosure. You whip your face toward the pool, just in time to see two sets of eyes watching you.

Silence defends the enclosure as the three of you stare in silence at one another.

Your heart races as you realize that the creatures staring at you must be the twins.

You can’t see them completely - their entire bodies are hidden under the water while the tops of their heads and their eyes are the only thing being seen from your position at the edge of the pool as they regard you from a few meters away - but you can see that they are nearly mirrors of each other.

They both have skin the color of seaweed with short hair to match - a longer piece the color of deep sea teal arching in the front of their faces. Instead of human ears, they have fins - likely hiding the gills they use to breathe underwater behind them. The one on your left appears to be more cautious than their twin on the right - their eyes are sharp, their right colored brown and left colored gold, and watching every movement you make as if calculating whether to attack you or not. The one on your right appeared to have more of a droopy expression on their face, their lower eyelids dropping into a bored expression, but their gaze is still sharp. Like their twin, their eyes are different colors - the left colored brown and the right colored gold instead.

You swallow thickly, unsure of what to do exactly.

Moray eels attack if provoked, you recalled Crewel saying, so you didn’t want to make any sudden movements in case they read it wrong and attempt anything. However, it seems that the decision is quickly made when the one on your right slowly approaches the edge of the pool. You stay as still as possible as they approach, their eyes locked on yours as if in a trance.

When they reach the edge, you can see the length of his body in the murky depths. His skin is a darker seaweed teal with little stripe patterns on his cheekbones and arms - with likely more on his lower body hidden deeper in the depths. Large fins poke out from his lower arms, giving him and his brother the ability to glide through the water quickly. You couldn’t see his tail, but if you had to guess - you thought he could be approximately six feet in length or longer.

Then, salted sea water covers your entire body, causing you to sputter at the surprise at getting splashed as the moray mer peeled in laughter. His brother follows up with three sharp clicks before the duo disappear under the water, leaving you to wonder what in the world just happened.

#twisted wonderland #twstファンアート #azul ashengrotto #yandere azul ashengrotto #yandere azul x reader #yandere #yandere jade leech #yandere jade x reader #jade leech #floyd leech #yandere floyd x reader #yandere floyd leech #twst wonderland #twst jade #twst floyd #twst azul #fanfic

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sadist1224 · 2 months

Text

I STILL WANT Mafia!141 AU

Part 1 https://www.tumblr.com/sadist1224/742379650222784512/i-need-the-mafia141-au?source=share

Part 2 https://www.tumblr.com/sadist1224/742405536052543488/i-still-want-mafia141-au?source=share

The Mafia!In which you, a former second lieutenant of the police, were kidnapped by unknown people while 141 were in another city on their mafia business.

The first alarm is raised by Val, who does not find you at the bar, although you always arrived on time. The woman starts calling and texting you, but your phone is out of the network area, so the second thing she does is go to your apartment nearby. Not finding you there either, she decides to wait before acting decisively, but don't worry. The waiting period will not be so long, in an hour her people will interrogate passers-by in search of witnesses.

Just imagine Price's face, which Alejandro calls right during the interrogation, and on his work phone, while the Ghost beats the next drug dealer to a pulp. The captain stops the lieutenant as soon as he hears the latest news that Valeria has started making a fuss. Her people are questioning civilians, looking for something. Price asks to keep him informed and hangs up. I have a bad feeling in the back of my head.

The guys immediately sense something wrong with this call. Johnny and Gaz exchange glances with the Ghost.

Kyle, who was able to get Van's phone number almost before he left, just in case. In fact, he wasn't even sure if he could call you or not, but that doesn't mean he didn't want to.

Therefore, when they dial your number 5 times in a row, and you still haven't answered them, their anxiety increases significantly.

Alejandro was actually surprised by Valeria's unusual behavior and watched her actions all day, until eventually he and Rudy came back to the bar to interrogate her. And, of course, they didn't find you there.

You, who always smiled so friendly at them when they met and who had already learned their favorite positions on the bar list. Of course, they couldn't help but flirt with you, but how else would they behave with someone like you? How witty and at the same time cute you could respond to Rudy's flirting and to the same extent you could interrupt absolutely any disliked thing addressed to you. You definitely knew your worth, you made great jokes and could support even the most insignificant topic, or at the right moment take the conversation in a different direction.

You are the perfect bartender, and absolutely the man who completely captured the attention of two Mexicans. In fact, Alejandro has already been thinking about how he can lure you to their establishment. You would absolutely fit into one of their restaurants or casinos. If, of course, the guys from 141 hadn't already had their eyes on you.

Yes, the British liked you just as much as they did. The way Johnny ran after you, how easily and often Gaz communicated with you. Or how the Ghost and Price looked at you.

Alejandro is not stupid. He knows how the familiar coldness in the Ghost's eyes changes when he looks at you. Or how Price's eyes look at you with undisguised interest when you once again bring them the best whiskey from your stock. And how masterfully you manage to ignore it. Alejandro is ready to give a standing ovation to your stoic, even expression when you refuse to let Sope join them.

You're a professional. And you're not that simple. The Mexican likes this mystery about you. Only a very attentive person will notice that you've been through some shit. And it seems that the Ghost and Price have already guessed this.

But now, you're not here. Alejandro knows that he has to call Price, tell him about the disappearance of "their" favorite bartender. And he is already ordering Rodolfo to gather his men and comb the streets, because they all know very well how dangerous members of other groups can be. And they have plenty of enemies in the city and beyond.

Johnny, who just can't find a place for himself after the news of your disappearance, cuts circles around the hotel room. If you could see how worried he is… The man is ready to take off right now and go in search of you.

Gaz, who has been sitting tensely on the couch all this time, clutching his phone and nervously glancing at his watch, waiting for Price to finish the conversation with Alejandro. Of course, what did they expect, appearing so often in a bar, and even in your company?

The ghost knew that sooner or later it would happen, but that doesn't mean he's calm. In fact, he already imagines how in one of the shelters he will clearly show your kidnappers that they should not even pull their hands to what already belongs to them.

Of course, they've almost claimed you. You're almost there, even if you don't know it. Price had already thought about it. He already had a rough plan in his head how he could lure you into their family. Of course, he already had the idea to buy out the bar to begin with, but Valeria sent him far away, even with a very profitable offer for her. So the simplest option has disappeared.

But, never mind, he has plans to the last letter of the alphabet. In his head, you fit perfectly between the four of them. In every sense.

But he just can't choose between you and their job. The latter was still more important. That's why Price decides to finish all the business here first, and then deal with your kidnappers. After all, Vargas and the Couple care about you too, so they may not worry a bit.

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