#//I don't know what to do. Cause I feel like it does and it doesn't matter.

[idk-what-im-doing-ever]

I wrote something for this back in August and haven't been able to add to it since so I'm calling it done

The one unable to leave consecrated ground without getting possessed is on a team with the prior mindflayer victim (MF) who succumbs to their urges sometimes (consecrated girl was on the other side of the mindflayer deal).

Their friend Magical Parasite was fucked up while returning to their safe area (consecrated grounds) and then gets stopped. They're wearing a necklace, and it actively suppresses the parasite so the second it's gone, the parasite is growing again.

Parasite person starts to scream, their other cursed friend can't be in the sunlight which is rising (cursed by a vampire and they're already covered in burns because the gang was late getting back). Their consecrated ground healer friend is watching from the fenced edge of where they're safe but they're trapped, and their Parasite friend is dying without their necklace

MF friend is clearly trying to fight off their urges, but at best it's a stalemate where their body standing there, laughing and crying in this hideous, inhumane, discordant cacophony.

CG girl knows stepping out guarantees repossession, and it was so hard on her body last time, her second time, that she's likely to die when going through another inevitable exorcism.

But that's her best friend. The necklace doesn't have a backup; the 'cure' is literally the heart of the full grown parasite once it's busted out of its host - they got it from a freshly dead man. The parasite is rare.

If she can't her to her friend, she's better off shooting them from where she stands so they don't go through the agony of being torn apart from the inside.

She tries. She raises the gun. Can't even try to convey what she's thinking because Parasite Friend is already screaming, writhing.

So if they're to be saved, it has to be now.

Fuck.

She sprints, wants to punch and hurt and scream at the mindflayer who caused this, but they're dead and gone, and it's only echoes stuck in their friend. The injury would fall only on their friend.

So she yanks the corded thread from their white knuckled hand and bites back her words.

An as she kneels down to tie it around her friend's neck, she feels it.

At the centre of her spine, like the brush of a cold cats' tail on bare skin.

Don't think about that, she has to press the charm into her friend's chest, and she does. Their screaming eases to a hoarse yell, and their daily pain will be infinitely worse; their body still needs to move around, to move with the now larger foreign body spread out within it.

They can starve it out, but the larger it gets, the harder it is to do so since it's stronger, able to live longer between expansion opportunities.

MF friend collapses, begging and crying. Their vampire friend is yelling and crying, and going by the smoke on them they clearly tried to force themselves from the shadows to help before being cowed by the growing harshness of the morning light.

They can see it, she realises. Can see the dark figure that seems to be fixing itself to her back and bones. Seeping into her blood and carving a space for itself beside her soul.

The cold, feather -light touch at her spine grows to feel sharper now, and she's sure she'll be bleeding from thin, scratched lines down the middle of her back. Like the creature has to really claw its way in despite not being tangible.

She can't leave her friend to be carried by MF in case they succumb to urges again, though it's unlikely to happen so soon. So, for now, she leaves MF on the ground, hooks her arms under her friend's shoulders, and drags them to the consecrated grounds that will do nothing for her anymore.

They met mindflayer friend when the three of them killed the mind flayer. It purposely helped try to get people possessed so the town was focused on that instead of the growing cult in the gutters and alleys of society.

The healer was caught up in it, and it was their second possession; they were possessed as a child.

As a child, they were possessed by a child spirit. It was mischievous and playful, but dangerous. The exorcism was hard on her, but comparatively easy to most.

The second time was harder. It was a new spirit, smuggled into the town by the MF cult, in a vase that the healer broke when in battle. The scratch they didn't really notice at the time (they brushed away the scratchy-cold feeling thoughtlessly) didn't heal after the fight, and they started seeing something else in their reflections. Started hearing a voice and seeing a gnarled, ghastly thing in their dreams. Started acting on things they watched themselves do while fighting against it.

So she knows.

She knows she knows she knows that the MF who sometimes echoed through their friend was to blame for their dark urges. Knows they watch what their hands are doing when injuring, listen to what tongue and teeth say when biting out harsh, terrible words, and can barely stop it from being worse at best.

But that doesn't mean she can look at them when they get back to base.

The voice of the mindflayer is neutralised, after a big burst of energy like today's attack. And it's getting weaker the longer after death it is. It needs more recovery time before taking actions, and it's able to puppet their friend less and less.

But how long will they be a danger?

How long until she's a danger again?

She peels back the layers of clothing on her back and grimaces as the fabric sticks to hot, wet, tattered skin.

This might be worse than last time. This might be her last time.

What are some chronic illnesses that can only occur in a fantasy setting?

[hydrobunny]

i can't say anything to your face (cause look at your face)

tags: established relationship, fluff

a/n: wrote this within a day in a burst of inspiration somehow,,, enjoy fellow kaiser lovers

------------

"are you trying to make me look stupid?" michael kaiser asks, barely an inch away from your hands.

automatically, before you can really think about it, you snap back. "that's not hard."

with an expression of dramatic hurt, he leans away from you. "excuse me?"

the eyeliner in your hand wobbles. only one of kaiser's eyes sports his signature red swoop.

he does kind of look stupid.

you bite back a smile.

unfortunately, kaiser is much more observant than he seems. his mismatched eyes narrow.

his hand snaps out to latch around your wrist, stopping you from bringing the eyeliner any closer.

"i don't trust you with this," your boyfriend snarks. "i have to go out with it on my face."

you weakly try to pull your hand out of his grasp. "you asked me to."

his eyes linger on yours. "that was when i thought you actually had hand-eye coordination."

you gasp with mock offense. "my coordination is perfectly fine, thank you. you haven't even seen what it looks like!"

he lets go of your hand, leaning back onto the wall. "i can already tell you're unsteady."

you glare at him. "it's a little hard to be steady when you're refusing to stay still."

he looks extremely unimpressed. it's a lot dumber with the mismatched liner.

an idea sparks in your head. before you can convince yourself otherwise, you .

"what-"

"stay still," you warn again, and shift yourself onto his lap.

kaiser stiffens like a rock. it's a little flattering.

"there you go," you whisper, smiling.

his eyes are dead-focused onto your own as you bring the pen closer. "careful," he mutters, voice low.

his hands lock themselves around your waist.

and in a single motion, you swoop the flash of red under his eye.

he blinks. you admire your handiwork.

"see?" you laugh. "only needed you to cooperate!"

you move to get up- his grip doesn't loosen.

kaiser tilts his head. from your proximity, you can trace every stroke of ink marked into his skin.

"you have places to be," you remind. "things to do."

he hums. "i'm fine where i am."

"you're really annoying, you know that?"

he flashes you a lazy smile. "i've heard worse. and better."

you roll your eyes. "whatever you say. can you let me go now?"

he shrugs. "you came here."

you shift your weight, still annoyingly trapped on his lap. the eyeliner pen falls to the floor, its purpose done.

"i think you need to stop arguing with me," you sigh. "it's annoying. just sit still and look pretty."

"i don't-"

you shut him up the only way you know how: pressing your lips onto his.

you can feel him grinning into the kiss- because it was obvious what he was going for from the start- and it only motivates you to press further.

"you're so gonna be late," you grumble.

he only laughs into your mouth. "worth it."

in the next movement, you rip yourself away off of him. he blinks up at you. the remnants of your lip gloss have left a shine on his lips.

"and your eyeliner's uneven."

there's a pause. you turn on your heel.

"wait, what?"

[marzipanandminutiae]

the one thing I am full-bore conspiracy theorist about?

daily contact lenses

or, well, not their existence, period. they're a valid health option that is best for some people, medically. but the sheer aggressiveness with which they're being pushed nowadays

the last few times I went to the eye doctor for my annual check-up, she was HEAVILY on my case to switch to dailies. like, to the point of arrogance and condescension when I said I preferred to stick with monthlies (I've worn contacts since I was 12, for reference). I also posted about it on a forum and got massive negativity in response, as well as being talked down to by someone claiming to be an optometrist himself

now if this were like...anti-vaxxer sentiment I'd understand that reaction. but from what I've heard, while monthlies do carry a higher risk of eye infections and such, they're not medically unsound or unsafe across the board. I'm willing to accept that risk, and since science has not found that they're terrible and should immediately be discontinued, I feel like my wishes should be respected and not belittled

point two: plastic waste. they say it's somehow less than using monthlies, but frankly I just don't see how that's possible. 365 of those little eye chips- times two! -and their packaging, add up to less than a case and a bottle of solution every few months, plus 24 contacts and their packaging? it doesn't make sense to me, and it doesn't help that I mostly see contact lens websites repeating this "fact." of course all contacts produce plastic waste, and I'd be perfectly willing to accept this as one of those You Have To Consume; You Just Decide What Areas Of Your Life Are Optimal For Minimization of Waste And What Aren't things, if dailies weren't being pushed so hard

(also I found two studies showing that monthly-replacement soft lenses produce less plastic waste than daily disposables. which, like. yes, this should be obvious, but here we are. granted, that's only two, and both studies emphasize that dailies and their accoutrements can be recycled, but see below)

some big companies have "contact recycling programs" but like. who's to say that's not greenwashing? where's the oversight? where are the investigations into what these programs actually DO? god knows we've been there before with recycling and corporations trying to pull the nylon-poly-blend Vegan Wool(TM) over our eyes

they're also more expensive than monthlies, which like. does not lend a positive slant to optometrists pushing them so stridently

on top of that, I and some other monthly users have noted that our contacts aren't lasting as long as they used to. for me, it was 17-18 years of smooth sailing with barely any problems, and as of like a year ago my contacts barely last two weeks without clouding up, ripping, chipping at the edges, causing my vision to blur, becoming uncomfortable...my brand did change around that time, so I hope it's just that, and the sample size of other monthly users I've pooled is VERY small. but it sure seems interesting that they suddenly started pushing a product that doesn't last long enough for people to notice low quality, around the time that at least some users of the longer-lasting version start having problems

you're pooh-poohing all of my concerns- which are indeed backed up by science, it seems! -with a "fix" that relies on big companies being honest about recycling, to push me from a non-ideal but still medically sound option to another that makes you more money?

I'm normally a pretty grounded person but I'm full-on tinfoil hat about this one

[kaliforniahigh]

NSFW thots incoming

NNN but the boys said uno reverse and it's you that isn't allowed to O. Teasing, edging and lots of O denial.

Jolly is probably the sweetest about it and close to breaking, especially when you invite him to join you in a shower cause you just need to feel him close and on you in some way.

Matt would be the worst, making fun of you and being mean when you're practically rubbing against him like a cat in heat asking for something anything.

How each member + Matt would behave during No Nut November, but instead of them, it's you who can't cum. Smut below the cut.

Warning: orgasm denial, edging, mocking, spanking, fingering, thigh riding.... you get the gist, this is basically just filth. The boys are a menace in this.

Jolly was a weak resolve when it comes to you whining in that sweet voice of yours, eyes big and pleading. He starts to feel bad, so he does what he can to make you feel better. Warm showers where you can feel him pressed up against you is the closest he gets to satifying you without actually giving you an orgasm.

He runs his hands over your wet body while you rest your head on his shoulder. He can still feel your quick pulse from a few minutes ago, when you were in bed. He had put his hand under your panties, but his movements were so slow, you could feel youself just on the edge of the precipice, but unable to let yourself fall.

"Why don't you let me come? I've been so good", you'd whine against his chest.

"And it's because you've been so good that you won't come, right? That's the rule baby", he'd whisper in your ear and that would prompt tears to gather on your eyes.

Before he could feel too bad for you, though, he slips his hand out from between your legs, which prompts another whine to scape from your lips. He shushes you softly and takes you in his arms to the bathroom, sitting you on the toilet, he adjusts the temperature just the way he knows you like.

Matt would be so degrading towards you. Sometimes he would even refuse to touch you, telling you that if you wanted to make yourself feel good, you could rub yourself on his thigh. It was a lesson on self-control, he told you. You could ride his leg all you wanted, but you couldn't make yourself cum.

As he watches you, face twisted in pleasure and agony at the same time, you'd tell him that you can't do it, that it's too much for you.

"If you knew you couldn't do it, then why did you agree, you stupid girl?", he'd respond in a tone that made you feel guilty, because you did agree, you brought this upon yourself.

Meanwhile, while you were rubbing yourself on his thigh, he'd take his dick out of his pants and start fisting himself with a thight grip.

The sight of you on top of him, knowing you weren't allowed to come, but he was, gave him a twisted type of pleasure, and after a few more strokes, he was cumming all over his stomach.

You had to phisically distance yourself from him, the sight too much for you, and you laid down on the bed, back turned to him.

"You're so mean, Matty"

He only laughed at your misery.

Noah would be the more agressive kind of mean, but he would give you such good aftercare.

He starts with you nice and slow. Bending you over his lap and running his hands over the supple flesh of your ass.

Instinctively, you lift your ass from his lap, trying to get some kind of pleasure. That's when he delivers the first hash smack. You weren't expecting it, so you let out a surprised yelp.

"I decide when I touch you, you understand that?", he grabs you hair and yanks your head back, you only nod in response, which doesn't please him at all, because he removes his hand from your ass to give you a slap across the cheek.

"Don't you know how to use your words?", he says through gritted teeth, mouth close to yours.

"I understand, Noah", you whimper in his mouth.

"There's the good girl I know", he said in a slightly softer tone this time.

He dropped your head back on the matress, and put his hand back on your ass. This time, he didn't waste much time, slipping your panties to the side and teasing your slit with the tip of his fingers.

If you ever misbehaved, he would deliver a quick slap to your pussy, making you jump on his lap at the feeling.

When you're a complete mess and your makeup is smudging the white conforter underneath you from the tears of frustration falling from your eyes, he'd take you in his arms, the slightest touch from him making you tremble.

"You did so well, you were so good. Just gotta wait 'till November is over ok?", he'd reassure you, eventually running his hands down your back in soft strokes, and soon enough, you were falling asleep in his arms from the exertion.

Folio would be the closest one to breaking in my opinion. He'd question many times if this No Nut November thing was even worth it. What kind of man was he, if he didn't make his girl come?

You'd be having sex, and you'd have to stop him, because you were about to cum and you could tell in his face that he was about to throw this whole out of the window just to feel your walls tighten around him.

You find out that this is worse for you. There is nothing more frustrating than feeling the first waves of your orgasm, just to have him pull out, and then everything goes away in the blink of an eye.

He starts enjoying it when you start begging. You even sprinkle a little bit of praise in there to try and sway his resolve. But he finds it more fun seeing you squirm for him. He's getting the hang of this thing.

One night, you're out at a restaurant when you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom. You're washing your hands when you hear the door open beside you. Thinking nothing of it, you dry your hands, but someone grabs you and pulls you into one of the stalls.

You're ready to scream when a hans covers your mouth, and your eyes finally make contact with Folio's.

"I'll need you to be quiet, baby", he says and makes a low "shush" sound. You nod and uncovers your mouth.

You can feel his hand travel down your stomach, making it's way under your dress. He hitches your leg over his hip and slips your panties to the side.

He doesn't start slow this time, since you both didn't have a lot of time on your hands. You gasp when you feel his fingers plunging inside of you, and he uses his thumb to rub circles on your clit.

You have half the mind to register the door to the bathroom once again and someoe getting in the stall beside you.

"Beg me", Folio says in your ear. You look at him with wide eyes. "Beg me and I'll let you cum right now".

The offer was irresistible. "Please, can I cum?", you whisper back to him.

"I can't hear you", he has a glint of mischief in his eyes. He's gonna make you beg out loud, when someone else is in the stall right beside you.

"Please", you try once again. The feeling of his fingers starting to become way too much for you, and you can feel yourself slipping into the abyss way too fast.

"You'll need to do better than that", he's looking right into your eyes, and before you can beg him once again, the feeling between your legs disappear, and this time, the whine that comes out of your lips os loud and very audible.

"Why did you do that?", you lean on him and he supports you by holding you by the hips.

"Girls who don't listen to instructions don't get to cum", he gives you a kiss on the forehead, his wicked way of mocking you, and then he makes his way out of the stall, leaving you behind.

Ruffilo makes the whole ordeal more artistic than it has to be. This man likes to sprinkle a little bit of art when you're fucking.

So, not only does he deny you of your orgasm, he needs to have you tied up to the bed. Hands and feet.

First, he starts with sensory stimulation. Maybe he grabs a rose on the way home, just to drag it along your chest, abdomen and thighs. Then, he moves on to little kisses all over your body. And he's slow with it too. He starts on your neck and descends to your collarbones, stoping to give attention to your perk nipples.

He continues with this until he's all the way down to your calf, and then he finally makes his way up again to where you need him the most.

He begins with the tip of his tongue, and you can barely feel it. The ropes tying you to the bed doesn't let you buck your hips, so all there's left to do is wait until he decides to give you what you want.

After a while, he's finally making you feel so good, you almost forget you're not allowed to cum. But he makes sure to remind you.

With one finger inside of you, he can feel that you're close. So he pulls his finger out and removes himself from the bed completely.

"What are you doing?", you teel him. You're breathless and a little irritation, a certain edge to your voice.

"I spoiled you too much", he shook his head at himself. "I think it's time we take a little break", he says, sitting on his computer chair. You're laying on the bed, completely stunned. Your body that felt on fire seconds before, now laid there void of any warmth, and you actually start shivering a little from the contrast.

"You can stay there and watch, baby", he gets comfortable on the chair, lifting his hips and sliding his shorts and boxers down, grabbing his length in his hand.

"It's my turn to feel good now".

[originalleftist]

Re-blogging to reply because this cowardly dipshit turned off comments.

You can find extensive evidence with less than 5 minutes' Googling. Just for a start, here's an article from Reuters (the link won't embed, but it works if you enter it in a search bar):

https://www.reuters.com/world/israels-pm-aware-very-violent-incident-against-israelis-amsterdam-his-office-2024-11-08/

Don't worry, it includes footage, since you've taken it upon yourself to declare that that is the only valid form of evidence.

It also confirms that:

-62 people were detained.

-10 remain in custody (so much for your "one random angry guy", who you imply doesn't exist but also try to paint as justified in hunting Jews "Israeli thugs" if he did).

-It describes "what the mayor called "antisemitic hit-and-run squads"'

-"Mayor Femke Halsema said Maccabii Tel Aviv fans had been "attacked, abused and pelted with fireworks around the city, and that riot police intervened to protect them and escort them to hotels. At least five people were treated in hospital."

-It notes the context of increased antisemitic incidents in the Netherlands since last October, including threats against "many Jewish organisations and schools".

-It also notes reports of "Maccabi Tel Aviv supporters chanting anti-Arab slogans before Thursday evening's match." Nobody denies this. There is no Conspiracy To Hide The Truth.

It is, however, a pretty big leap from that to your "entire population of Amsterdam telling the same story consistently about Israeli terrorists causing mayhem for days", a ridiculously hyperbolic claim that I have seen literally nowhere else, and for which you naturally feel obliged to provide ZERO evidence, even while demanding extensive footage to prove an orchestrated attack on Jews. Never mind the eyewitness testimony to that (but they're Lying Jews, so they don't count, right?)

More fundamentally, however, where we disagree is that any bigotry or violence by certain individual Israelis would justify a pogrom hunting down Israelis/Jews.

But that's what it always comes down to. Violence against Jews is downplayed, and attributed (if acknowledged at all) to lone individuals, while anything bad - real or imagined - that an Israeli or Jew does is used as justification for any and all retaliation, up to and including mass r*pe and total extermination (this is basically the entire pro-Hamas argument in a nutshell).

Here's some more footage, since we've already established that that's The Only Legitimate Form Of Evidence:

You might like this source, it engages in a bit of "both sides" attempt to justify the mob, but I link it because it includes extensive video.

-Groups of people wearing Palestinian flags.

-A seemingly unconscious man on the ground being kicked.

-A man forced under threat of violence to stay "free Palestine".

-Another person forced to do so while swimming in a river.

-A man pleading "I'm not Jewish" and still being beaten.

-An eyewitness describing how people "were ready in exactly the places, strategic places, with bat, with knife."

That last one is not something that happens spontaneously- it has to be planned. So is showing up to a riot wearing Palestinian flags, for that matter (I find nothing inherently offensive in a Palestinian flag, but bringing one to a riot requires premeditation, and it also underscores the larger political motivations, that this was not just over some football hooliganism).

I know none of this will convince you, because bigotry is by definition not based on facts and reason. I know that you are not engaging in good faith, since you started out by preemptively dismissing any evidence outside of a very narrow standard, including all eyewitness testimony by the actual victims. I know that you will probably dismiss any evidence provided as Jewish Media "Zionist propaganda". Hell, it's quite possible that you're a paid troll, and know full-well that you're lying through your teeth. Like Holocaust deniers, you likely are denying it not because you really believe it didn't happen, but because you know it did, you support it, and you want it to happen more.

I'm just putting the facts out there for the benefit of anyone who stumbles on this post.

PS: reported for violating Tumblr's policies re hate speech and advocating terrorism.

Don't worry guys! We overreacted! They were just looking for any of the football hooligans who stayed and not because they want to harm jews! (Sarcasm)

[xalygatorx]

A Case of the Slumps | Alastor x Depressed!GN!Reader

Summary: It seems you've brought your brain chemistry down to Hell with you. Figures.

Warnings/Tags: Hurt/Comfort, depression and related symptoms/thoughts (obvi), cinnamon roll Charlie, Angel gives you a Xanax but you don't take it, platonic Alastor with a hint of possible unspoken romantic feelings, unexplained cause of death, present tense for some reason, reader is gender neutral

A/N: Crosspost of a recent oneshot from my AO3 because I figured if I'm in a slump, someone else probably is too. x

Sometimes it was a thought. Sometimes it was the time of year or the weather, when Hell's crimson sky was kept dark for long periods of time by an uptick of brimstone in the atmosphere or the lingering storm clouds after an acidic downpour. Sometimes it was a memory. A song. A smell.

Sometimes it was seemingly nothing at all.

Just like when you were alive, your now-dead brain hasn't lost its particular quality of liking to work against itself. It's impossible to say whether it's a continued chemical imbalance—that'd be likely right? If demons can do drugs, then clearly there's still something to brain chemistry in Hell—or if death took a snapshot of your self and your mind as they were in life.

It doesn't really matter what it is either because it still affects you just the same. And because you haven't had a depressive episode yet post-mortem, you haven't done any of the legwork you had to do in life on your own to figure out what's "wrong" with you, who might hear you and listen, and what medication(s) works.

So when it does hit, it hits like a tidal wave no one else can see. The wave itself, anyway—everyone can see you drowning.

That first slump isn't kind enough to hit in the morning when you can sleep in—or rather stare with dead eyes at the wall, bundled under your duvet and blankets as you put off the day passing by around you. No, that first slump hits in the middle of one of Charlie's exercises, one that you were enthusiastic about participating in just an hour ago. What happened?

You know. This feeling is an old friend you'd hoped to never meet again.

Charlie doesn't though, not right away. After you excuse yourself by means of referencing a stomachache you only kind of have—and only from the emptiness pooling in your gut and humming in your chest—she catches up to you in the hallway.

"Hey!" she chirps, leaning around to look at you when you stop but don't turn around. If anything, you curl further into yourself. She doesn't notice though—the only ones who would notice your change are the ones who know to look for it. Charlie, bless her heart, doesn't have that earthly world experience yet. "Do you want us to wait up for you or…?"

"Oh, uh, no," you stammer out, yearning for a big hoodie to comfortably drown in or a cup of tea, the idea of which sounds lovely but you don't even like tea. Everything that would normally feel like a treat sounds stressful or unappetizing, leaving you uncertain about what exactly you're meant to be doing. That's when the lethargy hits hardest. "I don't feel well, so I'm just gonna rest for a while."

Charlie's brow scrunches. You can tell she's about to argue that you'll never get into Heaven if you don't stick to the exercises and something akin to a sudden flash of anger roils in your chest, kicking the dead gray weight of apathy in the teeth. Because how dare she question your commitment, your hopes, your dreams, because you're walking away this one time?

But if this is like life, if this can happen again now, how many more times will it happen? Is it over for you?

Something clicks behind her eyes though as she watches your face. You don't know this, of course, but she's seen the same look on Vaggie's face before. Primarily right after they found each other—Vaggie also fell into a pit of her own pain and trauma, a victim of her new normal until the new normal became preferable.

And, on those days, Vaggie didn't always want to be with Charlie. At some point, Charlie had to learn that it often had nothing to do with her when that happened, too. It helped her understand her father better, too, in the end. She'd needed to reach out to him, but she'd had to let Vaggie come to her when she was ready. Both were valid approaches for different people.

She decides to trust that you'll make it clear to her what you need when you're ready.

"Okay," she says and her kind voice spears your anger with guilt, killing it instantly. You were always good at that, weren't you? Pushing away the people who care. "You have my number. You have everyone's number—well, everyone with a phone anyway. Just let us know if you need something. Anything. Okay?"

You clench your teeth to hold back the burn of tears working its way up your throat. "Okay. Thanks, Charlie," you say and it comes out as sincerely as you mean it, which is good. At least something's gone right today.

"Would you like a hug?" Charlie offers, starting to hold out her arms and then hesitating when she wonders if that could feel like she was pressuring you.

You think about it and decide it's worth a try. "Sure," you say and you step into her arms. She runs even hotter than the other sinners you've met, being Hellborn. It's like cozying up just a couple inches too close to a fireplace, but it doesn't burn. She just feels like the hearth in the place that's swiftly become your home.

She doesn't let go before you're ready, but the second she feels you shift to step back, she lets her arms drop. She gives you a little wave before scampering back down the hall to resume the exercise in the lobby, leaving you to resume your trek to the elevator.

Once you're in the elevator and you've tapped the button for your floor, you fall back against the wall of the lift and run your hands down your face, sighing into your palms.

What you wouldn't give for an on-paper, calculable test that you could fill out and hand to a doctor or psychologist or someone who could tell you with complete certainty what's wrong with your brain and how to fix or endure it. Not only so you could feel better, but so you wouldn't be such a burden to your new friends, your found family. What good were you like this?

(The reality is that the group downstairs is mildly concerned, but otherwise just fine. Charlie can manage the exercise through sheer optimism alone and she has enough bandwidth to do that and be available to you as your friend whenever you need something.

A couple of the others noticed your deflated exit, perhaps because they've once been through similar episodes, and are either just hoping you feel better or trying to come up with some nice gesture to make whenever they see you next. Everything you're worried about or sure you've messed up is a product of your dopamine-deficient brain.)

You pass Angel in the hall on your way to your room as he's heading out for work and he, of course, knows that look. He just hasn't seen it on you before. He offers you a many-armed hug and what he tells you is a Xanax, telling you to text him if you need anything or just want to talk and he'll check on you whenever he's freed from the studio next.

You appreciate his offers and agree to all of it, except the unwrapped, unlabeled pill, which you get rid of once you're in your room. You trust Angel, but you're too paranoid about making whatever you're feeling worse. You barely knew how to deal with it in life, what's it going to be like in Hell?

A stretched-out old hoodie is procured from your closet and you tug it on, smoothing your hair back down as you amble toward the bed. You burrow under the blankets and try to sleep, but of course it doesn't come. You're not tired, after all. You're not even sad. There's just nothing where there's meant to be something, anything in your chest.

Hours pass and, even though you're not helping yourself by lying curled on your side and staring at the wall, you're listless. You can't talk yourself into getting up or getting something to eat. It's even hard to convince yourself to look at your phone, maybe because you've heard it buzz a few times with texts likely asking how you're doing. You don't want to answer them until it's a good answer. Until you can say you're doing better. Anything else is a disappointment, surely, for all involved.

Someone's knuckles rapping against your door makes you jolt, but you sink back into that unsteady feeling of mentally treading water instead of answering. They'll go away if they think you're sleeping. It's probably Charlie anyway, maybe checking on you ahead of dinner. Was it really almost dinnertime?

That was enough to motivate you to extract one arm from beneath the duvet, extend your hand to your phone, and tap the screen to wake it up. It was after dinner. Time was a construct and someone was still at the door, knocking more sharply now.

You bundle your arm back under the bedding, keeping your back to the door. Charlie wasn't that hard of a knocker, so maybe she'd sent Vaggie up to check on you? Husk tended to pound on doors with the side of his fist (and not come near any potentially weepy situation with a ten-foot pole), so it probably wasn't him. It might be Angel, you supposed. Short studio session, if so. Perhaps Pen, but the source of the noise was too high up to be Niffty. She'd barge on in anyway…

"My dear, I can hear you moving around in there, you know," the Radio Demon's voice informs you through the door and your heart nearly stops a second time.

Not Alastor, you sigh inwardly, covering your face in your hands again and trying not to groan lest he hear that, too.

It wasn't that you disliked Alastor. In fact, that wasn't the case at all. You'd been a bit scared of him at first, sure, when you'd initially crossed the threshold of the Hazbin Hotel and who could blame you? He was an imposing figure, someone you'd heard of within days of falling into Hell despite his seven-year sabbatical from the Pentagram.

He was also a prominent public figure from his radio show. That was how you'd first tried to get to know him a little better—you'd started tuning into his broadcasts, getting better at predicting the shrill screams of the souls he tore apart just before they blared through your speakers. You still missed them on occasion and would violently jolt upward from wherever you were sitting or lying while listening, floundering for the volume dial and usually finding it well after you needed it.

Alastor had spotted you do exactly that once during a prerecorded broadcast and, after he'd run the gambit of jokes he could make at your expense, the barrier that had existed between you two since your arrival started to come down. And while the jarring screams hadn't stopped, your radio's volume would inexplicably drop on its own ahead of them from then on. You couldn't come up with any explanation for this that didn't include Alastor's influence, but what may have been a kindness on the Radio Demon's part was directly rivaled by his then-new penchant for bursting out of the speakers in a swirl of shadow to scare you, himself, and ask you for feedback on the day's stories.

Those interruptions had become short bouts of small talk in the hall, a couple of cooperative efforts to cook the crew a delicious dinner, him holding doors for you whenever you happened to be traversing the hotel in the same direction… Little things. Lots of little things that had ended up with you considering him a friend, but who knew how he felt. He probably just thought you were amusing. What made it even worse was that you were beginning to suspect the extra pitter-patter of your heart whenever he showed up was no longer adrenaline anticipating him scaring you, but butterflies.

You poor thing. You weren't sure you could've picked a more surefire way to make a fool of yourself.

"I'm not decent," you finally say in an attempt to deter him, wincing a little at the hoarse quality of your voice. You'd only cried a little during your time in your room that day, but you'd cried hard. Partially in an effort to exorcise some of the bad feelings you were harboring, but it hadn't helped much.

"Well! Under all those blankets, I wouldn't even know, now would I!"

You squeak as you startle so much from hearing his staticky voice right behind your head that you end up in a heap on the floor between the wall and your bed.

By the time you untangle yourself from the duvet and pop your head out of the heap, he's maneuvered himself to the edge of the mattress and is peering over it while lying on his barely existent stomach. A thin, but amused smile curls his lips as his legs idly kick behind him like he's a high school girl at a sleepover.

"Was that necessary?" you ask, any amount of riling up he'd done with his sudden entrance falling away from you as your slump saps it of its vigor in one go.

Alastor's brows rise into his fringe, clearly a little caught off-guard. You can understand why—you usually either laugh or, if he gets you badly enough, clutch your chest and scold him for nearly causing your second death via a heart attack.

He tilts his head at you as his eyes narrow and you can't tell if he's confused or zeroing in on his prey. Honestly, in your current condition, you can't get yourself to care. Maybe he'll put you out of your misery for your cheek.

"Mm, I deemed it so," Alastor says, his luminous red eyes blinking down at you as he leans forward ever-so slightly. He's clearly on edge and you digest this as a display of annoyance, but he's concerned (and doesn't like that he's concerned). He's never seen you like this. "Are you ill, cher? It's quite unlike you to miss dinner."

"In a matter of speaking," you allow as you stand up, brush yourself off, and gather up your duvet into a large wad in your arms. You maneuver it back onto the bed and into a sort of nest you can return to, careful not to jostle or accidentally touch Alastor as he remains partially prone across the foot of the bed and watches you work. Mindful of how little he likely knows about mental health, given his time period, you explain in a few words, "My brain is sick."

He blinks, not sure what to make of what you've said. "Your…brain?" he repeats uncertainly. "How so?" Alastor also deems himself "sick in the head," but he's fairly certain that his brand of insanity isn't what you're referring to in yourself.

You nestle into the duvet, missing how his eyes soften a touch at how small you look right now. You take a deep breath and let it huff out as you force yourself to look at him. If he just wants to torment you a bit, this will expedite him getting it out of his system so you can go back to your staring contest with the wall. If he's not just here to make fun of you…well, then that would be surprising.

"I have depression," you finally admit and you wonder when the last time was that you said those words out loud. Even in life, it was a rare moment when you'd be met with someone who was worth explaining yourself to—most people either didn't understand because they'd never been through it themselves or because they didn't want to understand. Over time, you'd just given up trying to be honest about your struggles because being demeaned or invalidated for them just made you feel worse.

"A what now?" Alastor asks, cocking one brow as he turns to lie on his side with his head propped against one hand. His fluffy ears twitch a little but stay upright, alert, and turned in your direction.

"It's a mood, uh…ailment," you explain, thinking he might not know what a "disorder" is either. You're not familiar enough with what terms people would've used to refer to mental health in his time, so you're overcareful with the words you choose. "My brain chemistry wasn't right in life—my body didn't produce enough of the chemicals that make us feel happy, so I'd get into really bad slumps. Exhausted, sad, sometimes just numb slumps. Apparently that came down here with me, too."

"So…you're in a 'slump'?" he repeats slowly, testing the word you'd used on his tongue.

In moments like this, you find him unbearably cute—from his twitchy ears made restless by the rate of his thoughts to his wide, considering eyes as he tries to absorb what you're telling him. He's a very good listener when he's not in the middle of a bit.

"Yes," you tell him and he relaxes slightly at the confirmation. "I feel dead inside, honestly. Which is funny to say now that I'm actually dead, but it's just… I just don't feel much of anything. Or I do and it just feels empty and hollow. That's kind of worse than feeling sad."

He hums and offers, "A smile is our greatest weapon, dear. We've discussed this."

"Not against this, it's not," you sigh, just waiting now for him to get frustrated or bored with you. "I'm not trying to be difficult, Al, I swear. It's just… I can't fake what I'm feeling. I've tried! I wish I could mask half as well as you can, but it's hard. It takes energy I just don't have in times like this."

Alastor evaluates you with a glance and asks, "Then what is your weapon of choice against these…slumps?"

You tug against the seam of the duvet wrapped around you, all nervous fidgeting. "I never really figured anything out," you admit and it feels like a failure. It feels like because you can't offer him a solution to your problem, your problem must not be a problem. You remember so many exasperated faces looking back at you at times you'd admit the very same. He just looks at you though, clearly thinking. "Sometimes just waiting for it to pass was the answer. I was on medication for it at one point, but it never helped very much. I know I need to eat, but I just feel a bit nauseous when I think about food."

"Then food should be on the docket, certainly, but perhaps not just yet," he muses, sitting up as he continues to regard you. "What else?"

You throw your hands up helplessly. "I'm not sure. I'm sorry," you say. "Maybe I need to go hug Charlie again or something, that didn't fix anything earlier, but it didn't hurt."

Alastor scoffs. "Is my comfort not up to your standards, dear?" he needles you, his tone confident even as his smile wavers slightly.

You blink and shake your head even as you scramble to try and understand what he's implying. "Of course not," you quickly say. "I just… You don't have to do that kind of stuff, you know? I know it's uncomfortable for you and I'd never want to make you uncomfortable."

He chuckles and a mischievous smirk overtakes his features as he leans in and pulls you toward him via the duvet, taking an indulgent look at the blush reddening your face before he tightens the blanket cocoon around you and adds his arms to the equation after. You get the hint not to take your arms out and touch him and you're not even sure you could if you wanted to. You're frozen in place, comically close to a deer in headlights, and you can feel the heat inflaming your cheeks.

It's nice to feel something for the moment.

"Um… Alastor?" you ask, stopped from looking up at him when his pointed chin settles against the crown of your head. "You… Why?"

"Why, what?" he asks, but it's just to put off answering and you have some inkling that this might be the case despite his casual tone.

"Why are you doing this?" you ask, embarrassed by how vulnerable you sound to yourself.

"I can't have you sat here in one of your 'slumps' by yourself, darling," he mused, one of his hands absently tracing over your back.

It takes a lot for you to not lean into the touch, but you're terrified of scaring him off. You're also terrified of overthinking this though, especially as he settles in around you, his larger body usually used to intimidate and tower over others making you feel oddly safe. Then again, even in his most antagonistic moments with you, have you ever felt in danger?

"Why not?" you ask softly.

"You ask a surprising number of questions over something so simple as this," Alastor notes and his words cause a puff of warm breath to stir your hair. You shiver a little and he chuckles.

"But it's not simple for you," you murmur, letting yourself relax a bit as he impatiently tugs you closer to fit you against his chest. He's certainly not as gentle as Charlie, but you imagine he's far less practiced in this sort of thing than she is. It hits you harder because you know he's trying. And perhaps because you—silly, silly you—have a tragic little crush on the Radio Demon. "And… Well, I appreciate it. That's all."

Alastor hums and admits, "It's simpler than expected. And not unwelcome." You feel his chin shift against your crown, like he might be looking down at you, as he asks, "Is it helpful? Or is dear Charlotte's attention still preferable?"

You have to bite your lips a little to keep from smirking—that sort of tone can only indicate that he's jealous. Once again, you find him unbearably cute and it'll likely one day lead to your second untimely demise once he realizes how you feel.

"Yes, it's helpful. And preferable," you confess and you can almost feel his chest puff with pride. "This is really nice. Thank you."

"You're most welcome, dear," he says, glancing down and watching you cave to fatigue and fall asleep as he feels your weight settle further into his chest.

Alastor chuckles and gives you time to fully settle into a more restful state before he shifts your body around and situates you on your bed. He'd first considered staying, but figures having something for you to eat at the ready when you wake is a better use of his time. At least that's the reason he gives himself to go.

The truth is he can't remember the last time he honest to goodness comforted someone. There's a tickle in the back of his brain, a voice asking if he's losing his edge. Asking if you'll see him now as less than he is, which (in his mind) is a sadistic, cannibalistic overlord and nothing more.

He can't deny though that he's savoring the lingering warmth from your body on his coat. And, as much as he doesn't understand these "slumps" or the depression you referenced, he didn't like seeing you look so sad.

And he supposes if he must occasionally soften his sharp edges a bit to help keep his favorite guest present and smiling, it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world.

[spookwriter-xo]

Coppélia

Chapter 3 - The Figure Painter

Chapter Summary - Y/N visits a childhood friend to go over Seonghwa's odd invitation.

Series Masterlist

"And then he gave you a contract... Like from Fifty Shades of Gray?"

"I told you it's not a contract, he said it was an invitation."

"Honey, it literally gives you a place to sign at the bottom."

After Seonghwa had given me the envelope and left, I wasted no time in rushing over to my friend, Mia's, house to tell her everything. Mia and I had known each other since we were seven years old, hanging off of each other like leeches since. Her family was rich too, but unlike mine, they supported her artistic endeavors.

She was a painter, specializing in figure paintings and realism, and was also my voice of reason.

"I seriously don't know what to do," I whine, my head resting on her kitchen countertop.

"Well, what does it say? Like what does he want you to do?" She asks, her fingers twirling a teaspoon around her tea cup.

I glance down at the papers in front of me. So many rules were listed I struggled to even wrap my head around it.

"He wants me to move into their home," I say.

"Their home?" Mia clarifies. "As in other people?"

"I guess so?" I clear my throat as I continue. "I can remain as a dancer for the society as long as I don't practice for any longer than I need to be."

"Well, at least they're offering you some freedom." She mumbles sarcastically, taking a sip of her tea.

"Mia come on!" I cry out rather dramatically.

"I feel like there isn't much up for discussion here? Yes, it's weird and borderline controlling but when was the last time something exciting like this happened in your life?" She argues.

"I don't want to be controlled, Mia. This whole thing, it's just way above my pay grade. I had enough of it living with my parents, I don't need it in a romantic relationship too!" I point out. She lets out a sigh, nodding in understanding.

"You're right, I'm sorry." Mia runs a hand through her hair. "Okay, let's try a different approach. What things in there benefit you?"

"Uhm, I get to live in a big ass mansion free of charge," I say, my finger hovering over the bullet point. It sure would be better than the cheap studio apartment I live in now.

"You can never go wrong with a big ass mansion." She quips before I continue.

"It says... I have to be willing to, share myself?" I tilt my head with furrowed eyebrows.

"Oh, don't tell me they're the type to want a girl to homey hop." She seethes, leaning over the counter to read the paper. "Oh god, they are!" She exclaims.

"Just because you're monogamous doesn't mean you can judge!" I scold.

"I'm not judging, I'm cringing 'cause it's not for me." She says defensively. "If you're into that, I won't judge."

"Sure you won't."

"I might make fun of you a little, but you know I'll get over it!" She laughs. "Besides it's a bonus if they're all cute. I looked up Seonghwa and that Hongjoong guy and woo!" She whistles.

"Poor Mark." I tease, she gasps. "Listen, I don't know if I'm up for that either. I mean I don't even know who the others are, for all I know there could be a serial killer among them."

"Then call him." She states. "Call him and demand him to rewrite it on your terms."

"Would that work?" I ask, placing the papers back into a neat pile.

"He's a businessman, right? Of course, it would! Hell, you might even get to meet the others if you play your cards right." She says confidently. "You like this guy right?"

"Yeah, I do."

"Then fight for your own morals and boundaries, and if he doesn't accept that then move on." She says, moving over slightly to place her mug in the sink. "And if they try something, Mark and I will come over and beat them up for you."

"You and I both know Mark Lee is not going to beat anyone up." I laugh causing her to let out a snort.

"You're right, he could yap their ears off and give us time to escape the country though." She jokes, a wide grin spreading across her face.

I glance back down at the documents, genuinely contemplating for a moment. I hated the idea of being controlled by anyone again, let alone a bunch of men who, aside from 1, I have never had a conversation with in my life. But on top of that, it would be really nice to stay somewhere that didn't charge me almost my entire weekly pay for rent.

Plus Seonghwa was really good-looking, but was I really going to risk my freedom just because a cute guy gave me a second of his time? Mia was right, I needed to call him and set up some kind of meeting and get this document altered to my liking also, not just theirs.

"You're doing that thing again." Mia's voice cuts me out of my thoughts. "You know it's creepy when you stare off into space like that."

"Sorry, was just thinking about everything," I say softly, stuffing the document back into the envelope it came in.

"It's a lot, I know, but once you put your foot down like I know you can it'll all even out. You'll see." Mia was often right about these things, then again she was always the one to come up with the ideas that would get us into trouble growing up. I trusted her with things like this because I knew it would never leave the two of us, but trusting her to convince me to do something that could lead to me signing my life away? I was going to be a little more cautious of that.

"I should probably go, I got another show tonight," I say, hopping off of the seat I was perched on.

"Oh! I'm coming to the show next Monday! Don't mess up for me okay?" She says, skipping around the counter to give me a quick hug before I leave.

"Of course I won't, you're my lucky charm." I joke, pulling away and waving. She waves back, knowing I could find my way out.

I contemplated calling Seonghwa as I walked through the city streets. I let out an annoyed huff at the constant tug-of-war going on in my head. My finger hovered over the call button as I stared down at his contact. He'd probably show up tonight, but did I really want to decline his initial offer in person?

Without thinking I pressed call, holding my phone up to my ear as I chewed on my bottom lip nervously. I felt a sick feeling of nerves in my stomach, the same feeling I felt before I went out on stage.

It rings 4 times before he picks up.

"I thought you'd think about it a while longer." He states, his voice rough. I take a deep breath before I speak.

"I'm declining your 'invitation'," I stated, making sure my voice sounded defiant.

"What?" He asked, sounding genuinely surprised.

"You heard me. This... Contract is far too controlling for my liking and I refuse to subject myself to signing my life away for a man who only graced me with his presence last night." I say, earning some looks from passersby.

"Doll-"

"I'm not done! Look, I like you. But the only way this is happening is if we rewrite this to include my own terms. And I want whoever the hell you expect me to share myself with to be there also. No way in hell am I agreeing to something like that without even knowing what they look like." I say, rather rushed. Silence follows, and I look at my phone screen for a moment to make sure the phone call didn't end. As I placed the phone back to my ear I heard laughter.

"My, I really underestimated you didn't I?" Seonghwa chuckles. "A real firecracker you are, so unassuming up until now." I could feel his grin through the screen, and it made my blood boil.

"If you're going to waste my time-"

"Hold on a second, Doll." He says, his voice still laced with amusement. "I'll organize a dinner, how does that sound? You, me, and the others who helped write the original contract. That way you can meet everyone and get your boundaries heard."

I blinked in surprise at his offer. Was it really that easy? "You're serious?"

"Of course I am! Honestly, it's refreshing to talk to someone as pretty as you about business exchanges." He chuckles. "You have a show tonight, yes? Are you free Saturday night?"

I clear my throat. "Uhm, yeah?"

"Excellent, I'll send you the details tonight with your Gardenias." He says, hanging up before I can get another word in.

I gape at the phone, staring at it as I stand frozen in the middle of the street. I look around for a moment before continuing on my way.

I had a sinking feeling that this dinner was not going to be as easy as he made it seem. The others were most definitely businessmen also, co-owners of ATZ Corp. Me, a broke ballerina versus 8 businessmen on their own turf.

Pray for me.

[dwaekkicidal]

hihii ! i love the way you write hybrid skz, it’s just so fun to read & i eat it up everytime 😚🫶 !!

lowkey might be cliche LMAO but i’m obsessed w the thought of fox!innie & bunny!reader, either reader is in her heat & innie is being a little horny shit or .. reader is sick of his bullshit & ends up bouncing on his dick until they’re both whimpering messes ><

if i cant have this, whats the point in being alive. (im kidding) (im not) thank you for this anon i love you so bad

also this is gender neutral! i talk about breeding but fox!jeongin thinks if he tries hard enough, he can and will get you pregnant. no matter what. :)

alpha fox!jeongin who smells your heat days away. that in itself is enough to get him going but when he sees you start to nest, in his bed, he absolutely loses his mind

he gives you no time to say anything before he's dragging you to said nest, tossing you onto it and settling himself on top of you

he starts off just hovering above you as he plants each kiss, hickey, and bite to your neck. he's insanely impatient and will have you bent over and impaled on his cock no longer than a few minutes after having pinned you to the bed.

depending on what you're wearing he might start fucking you within a few seconds- he'll yank your top off and will simply push your underwear to the bottom of your ass and sink into you fully, no prep because he wants you to really feel all of him <3

and he's so mean when he fucks you!!! switches between either tangling a hand in your hair and shoving your face into your nest OR grabbing a tight hold at the base of your bunny ears and pulling, forcing you to arch your back for him

his cock is nestled so deep that you can feel him in your guts, your stomach eventually hurting from how hard he pounds into you and from how much he cums inside of you

and speaking of cum, don't you dare even think about wasting any of it. deep down he knows its inevitable that it will spill out, especially because he cums actual buckets every time, but also because he cums into you over and over and over again

however! that wont stop him from getting easily pissed off when he sees a drop of his cum venturing too far from your puffy hole >.<

youll be lucky if thats enough for him to pull out for a second, but more often than not it leads to him pulling you upright and flat against his chest so he can land a few slaps to your thighs while he's still deep inside of you, his hips no longer moving

says shit like; "what do you think you're doing??? ungrateful bunny. i put all this effort into fucking you silly and all i ask is that you keep my pups safe." with a tight grip on your hair holding you perfectly still so he can whisper it into your ear.... ugh..

if youre too out of it and dont answer hes gonna growl and start fucking you hard. his free hand is gonna drop to your thighs and scoop up any loose cum so he can shove those pretty fingers down your throat- "since this little hole wont accept my cum, that slutty mouth'll have to do."

when he does eventually get tired, literal hours later..., you're finally allowed a break! he lets you do your thing in the bathroom, growling to himself at the thought/knowledge that you're gonna be ridding yourself of- wasting- a lot of the cum he just allowed you

but oh! whats that? jeongin is starting to feel a little hot and under the weather by the time you come back in the room? wait... he thinks you triggered his heat? oh. well, in that case, you can go a "few" more rounds, right? :)

it doesn't take long for him to rest his back against the headboard after dragging you back to the bed. and he'll kiss your complaints away when the action causes your nest to get messed up. he doesn't let you get too upset about it, cause he loves you to death! and if forcing you to ride his cock and take it to the very hilt is enough to stop your heart from breaking, then he will happily do so

long fingers digging into your thighs and shit eating grin spread across his face, his canines poking out slightly as he stares up at you as you ride him. and when you inevitably get too tired to continue, he's gonna use those pretty muscles to lift you and drop you onto him!

and dont worry! your pretty little whimpers and cries dont discourage him :) and thats because "you need to take it, bunny. 'm not stopping until your cute little tummy is full of me." so if you've never met a stubborn person before, you are in for a real treat with this greedy ass hybrid.

he's soooo happy... this position lets him go so deep, scratching that little itch in the back of his head about how he needs to breed you- and he's sure he's doing it thoroughly enough when your nails dig into his shoulders in overstimulation.

dont mistake his own whimpers for him running out of fuel! he's not even close to being done yet, so don't expect to get away anytime soon~ you're gonna sit right there, on your rightful throne, and you're gonna accept every. last. drop. of his offerings.

he needs to mark his somehow <3

Taglist (red=can’t be tagged):

@valkyriexo @lunearta @jabmastersupriseee @rylea08

@yaorzu-blog @amararosesblog @jiminssluttyminx @clemissleepy

@miss-daisy04 @kittyxnoa @dwaekkiiracha @bubblerizz

@mariteez @fun-fanfics @honeyybbuubblleess @kittycatkrissa

@nicora04 @chuuyaobsessed @moonlightndaydreams

[weirdsht]

How are you, beautiful?. How about your life?. If it doesn't bother you, can I make a request Cale Henituse x isekai reader?.. Where does the reader not want to interfere with the story even though the reader loves this story but the reader is more important and chooses a peaceful life.. However, the reader often ran into Cale and his group made the reader always run away (just helping silently) because the reader didn't sign for it...Cale started to suspect because they met often.Reader often rejected Cale's offers 😂😂..Comedy and chaos

Leave Me Alone! - LoTCF & Reader

tags: gender-neutral reader, transmigrated reader, cursing at the end

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are open and welcome

Buy Me Dessert

Navigation Masterlist

“Ugh… what time is it..? Wait am I late for my classes!?”

You jolted up and rushed to feel for your phone, only to not get a hold of it making your heart drop.

Frantic, you rummage through the bedsheets, hoping you will soon find your beloved device. However, instead of your phone, you instead notice how you don’t seem to be in your room.

As you finally look around your surroundings you can see that you’re in a completely different place. Everything around you looked extra luxurious, you were almost blinded by how shiny everything was. Aside from that, unknown tools are also neatly scattered around the room. You don’t recognise them, but they look like magical tools that one would see in a fantasy anime or manhwa.

Creek.

“Oh my! The young master is awake! I shall fetch the healer!”

Before you could think about where you were and what happened to you, a woman wearing a traditional maid uniform opened the door. She seems to be in shock to see you awake. And so, she disappeared as fast as she came.

Not even a minute later, she came back to the room you were residing in. On her tow seems to be a healer. Once they settled in, the healer immediately got to work to check your body. As they do you wonder how you would be able to play this off. It doesn’t look like you’re in your world anymore, nor does it look like you have a way to go back.

“Miss, who are you? Where am I?”

The amnesia route it is.

“Who am I?”

The maid looks like she’s about to cry and have a heart attack at the same time. You feel bad, you really do, but it’s not like you can pretend to know information when you don’t even know where you got transmigrated. 

“Everything else is okay now except for their memory. The cause is most likely from the impact they sustained during the accident. We don’t know when those old memories will resurface. In fact, we can’t be sure if they ever will. My only advice is to not force them to remember anything as it could do more harm than good.”

With that, the healer excused himself to go to his next appointment leaving you with the maid.

Looking at the maid made you wonder if you’re in a historical manhwa and that you’re a child of a wealthy noble. Maybe you’re in one of those cliche tropes where you transmigrated as the villain and need to try to take down all the death flags waving.

“What are we going to do now young master? First, you lost your parents and now you lost your memories…”

The maid sobbed for a few more minutes before gathering herself and finally explaining your predicament.

Apparently, the only part you got right was the wealthy part. Your name is still [Name] [Lastname] surprisingly enough and you’re a magician’s child. Unlike other magicians who are neck-deep into their research, your parents focused more on commerce. The result of their efforts is the wealth your family has now, the [Lastname] family are as wealthy as nobles because of various magical tools they invent and sell.

“Of course, we are not as wealthy as the Henituse family or any of the duchies in the kingdom.”

Well, that’s a given since the Henituse is on a different level.

…wait Henituse? Like Cale Henituse? From the holy trinity of web novels? Lout of the Count’s Family?

And so that was how you confirmed that you have been transmigrated in your beloved manhwa/web novel as a no-name extra that isn’t even mentioned once.

The life of a wealthy, orphaned amnesiac seems to be good to you. You have everything at your disposal as there are servants at your every beck and call. Income is also a no-brainer as your body seems to remember mana and how it works. Creating and modifying magical tools and potions come to you easily.

In the midst of everything you still manage to find time to support your favourite characters from behind the scenes. You don’t have any plans on stepping into the limelight but you also can’t help but meddle a little since you hold those characters belovedly in your heart.

‘If Cale Henituse can’t stay still and live as a wealthy slacker then I shall do it for him!’

That was supposed to be the plan.

“Good day I am Ron and I am a servant of young master Cale Henituse.”

So why is this goddamn assassin interrupting your tea time at your favourite cafe!?

“Ah, the new hero of the kingdom. What could such a person need with a humble person like myself?”

You blatantly put your guard up, showing the cunning man you won’t give in to his whims.

“A prodigy such as yourself can hardly be called humble. But on that note, our young master would like to avail your services.”

…what now?

“I’m sorry Mister Ron but I do not do commissions. I work to provide for the masses, free from the constraint of an employer even if it’s a temporary one.”

You composed yourself and pushed down the urge to throw a fit right then and there. But Ron didn’t seem to notice your efforts as he slid a bag of gold coins across the table. He probably thinks you’d do the job at the right price.

“Money won't change anything. I have enough to sustain me for a lifetime. Now please excuse me as I only wish to lounge around.”

With that, you stood up and left the cafe.

The days following that weren’t easy. Everywhere you go, you seem to bump into one of Cale’s people. It has gotten to a point where you have to pause your meddling endeavours because they almost caught you a couple of times.

But since when has fate been on anyone’s side in LoTCF?

“I’m Choi Han from the Henituse family I am here on behalf of Cale-nim.”

“I’m Hans visiting on behalf of young master Cale.”

“I am the priestess Cage, I am visiting with Marquis Taylor Stan to conduct business.”

“Can you help this poor soul named Bob?”

“Hello, I’m Cale Henituse. I’m sure you’ve met the people I sent to your house.”

Cale Henituse is more persistent than you thought. He wouldn’t stop no matter how much you try to refuse his antics. It even came to a point where he had to visit you himself.

But still, even if you love his character deeply… there’s no way you would let yourself be caught up in his whims.

It’ll be the end of your peaceful life once that happens.

“Young master [Name] the prince, his Highness Alberu Crossman has ordered your presence in his castle.”

“That fu–”

“Did you say something, young master?”

“Ah no… you must’ve heard wrong.”

You plastered a smile on your face as the maid handed you the summon letter. The maid excused herself after handing you the letter to give you privacy. 

Just before you could open the letter you could hear some rustling from the window. You cautiously approached it as the noise seemed to be deliberate. Once you got on the windowsill you noticed a piece of folded paper neatly tucked in.

Goodluck 

“That fucking piece of shit! Favourite character my ass!”

[valhalla-calls]

Relativity Falls headcanons- My Version Pt.3

Making a part three because apparently, I wasn't done.

My Au isn't exactly one for one in terms who replaces who and what events happen. However, there are close to it.

Kind of off track, but Canon! Stan would cry if he saw any Relativity Falls AUs. The thought that any of the Pine twins going through at least half of what he did while he was homeless would destroy him. Doesn't matter if it's Dipper or Mabel, it would destroy him.

Back on track, I can see Mabel's scams sometimes consisted of match making and fake love potions. She got a lot of angry customers when the match wasn't good or the love potion surprisingly didn't work. It caused a few injuries along the way. A few times, she was stabbed and didn't have money to go to the doctor to get it stitched up. Good thing she knows how to sew thanks to her making sweaters.

After a particularly bad run in with some people she owed money to, Mabel had to rewrite a letter to Dipper, because blood smudges kept appearing on the letter. Eventually, after the hundredth time, she just covered those spots with glue and glitter. No, Dipper doesn't know that bit until probably much later.

Mabel does have the scar on the back of her shoulder like Stan did! How it happened was a little different, she had a stab wound she stitched up on her upper arm when Dipper sent a post card for her to come. In the middle of their "Concerned for each other" scuffle, he grabbed it by accident, Dipper let go when she screamed, which caused her to fall onto sigil.

Dipper's had his fair share of hurt here too. He had the whole bleeding eye issue that Ford did in canon. I imagine if he was possessed by the Axolotl, it would take a toll on his body too. A big entity like that, I don't think a human body could handle well. Then, there's the whole doing things to Dipper while being possessed thing. He has a few scars from those moments too.

Speaking of Axolotl, I feel like it would take Dipper a while to warm up to being friendly. Not that he wouldn't be fascinated and tricked at all. Because, we saw what happened with Bill doing the Sock Opera episode, he would. However, I think at first, he'd proceed with caution. He was only started to be mystified by the Axolotl when the Axolotl began to feed into his loneliness.

I'm cool with either Candy or Pacifica taking Fiddleford's place. It makes sense for either. If it's Pacifica, she could fund it and if's Candy, she could build it.

Mabel kept making the fake love potions to sell in the Mystery Shack. One of them fell on Stanley and it caused him to have a misunderstood panic attack when he saw Fiddleford and nothing happened. Not because he was worried he didn't like Fiddleford. No. He was told at one point, probably by his mom, that if a love potion didn't have any effect after seeing another person, it meant he was already in love with the person. After, what Stan thought were failed attempts to woo Fiddleford (Because, you know, he honestly believed the potion worked so, got commit to the bit.), Mabel cleared up the misunderstanding. Which she found hilarious.

Since Bill is in Pacifica's place, Stan, not only has a rivalry with Gideon, but he has a rivalry with Bill.

I can see Dipper and Mabel picking on the fact that Stanley is being abused by Filbrick at home. There are many routes like when it comes to this AU that people take with that issue. My favorites though are where they find out and don't let the boys go home at all and teach Stanley that Filbrick doesn't love him. Also, Ford finally understanding some things and is completely on board. They would not care who Filbrick is to them. They would risk it.

[llamaisllama777]

... Oh, they better fix this soon, or it's gonna be a VERY sad Thanksgiving and Christmas!

Seriously, tho....thing are BAD right now, and I have a few possibilities/predictions for Earth and Luanr and what could happen next...

Earth predictions

1. Earth is left numb by the dark lighting.

Much like how Monty lost all feelings in his right??? Arm after fighting The Stitchwraith Earth will now have that same problem but all over her body cause that lightning spread everywhere! Leaving her in a lot of pain and then feeling numb for who knows how long?! I think for Monty, it lasted five months? So, Earth will be like this for the next five months... fun.

2. Earth is corrupted by the negative star power!

Turuas and Rez have mentioned it is possible to become corrupted by negative star power, and if there was an awful lot of negative star power, there. We've seen what happens to things that get corrupted by dark star power. (Dazzle's old body, those dark star creatures, and Nexus)

Earth will slowly become corrupted by the negative star power floating in her systems and turn into a corrupted!Earth! The Astrals will try to kill Earth while Sun, Moon, Solar, Monty, and Lunar (and possibly Eclipse) will try to save Earth and find a way to uncorrupt her, and they will hopefully succeed in saving her.

3. Earth dies!

Yes, you read that right! Earth dies! Earth's body will succumb to the corruption and die. Earth will die, and Lunar, Monty, and the whole family will be absolutely destroyed. Lunar will feel like a monster, Sun will have lost the only other sibling who cared for him and the one who made him realize he's not a bad person and that he does matter, Monty will lose the love of his life and might become the destroyer of worlds like how Golden Freddy said he would if Monty didn't meet the right people, Solar and Moon will have lost the sister they just gained, and Eclipse will have lost his first friend... needless to say, this is the WORST outcome! Lunar would go into hiding, Eclipse, Solar, Moon (And maybe Monty if he doesn't fall into a deep depression) will hunt down Lunar with the Astrals while Sun falls back into his deep depression and this may lead to Dark Sun offering Sun some kinda deal but who knows. Lunar will either be pushed into the hands of Rez and Cetus or will deny them and go into hiding or fight against them like some kind of Rouge star!Lunar.

4. Earth will be fine in like a day or two.

So, remember how Monty said he would go and remake that small red box that F.C. has in his chest and use it to protect them from all the dark star power entities... well, that box can absorb negative star power, and he'll use it on Earth and instantly heal her. (Or the Astrals will purify Earth's body, and she will be fine)

But even though she'll be healed, mentally, she'll be scarred. She almost got killed by one brother, and now she almost got killed again by another one of her brothers. She would be DONE!

She tried to be nice, she tried to be friendly and do the right thing but here we are! She would either leave and stay with Monty forever and rarely visit them or Alternatively leave and go on vacation to get away from them all but her dad will probably come and kidnap her or convince her to come back with him cause she just got backstabbed again by another family member! Whether she'd go with him or tell him to get lost and get kidnapped I don't know? We'll have to see.

Lunar predictions

1. Lunar will go into hiding, i.e... skip town(leave this dimension)

Lunar having just injured the person who cared about him the most and helped him get back on the right track mentally in the very first episode of LAES, Lunar now being hunted by The Astrals, The Dark Astrals, having ruined his relationship with his sister and Gemini he will leave this dimension and go to Eclipse and Puppet's dimension and Lunar will be forced to confront his hatred on Eclipse and the two will probably fight for a bit before coming to some kinda of closure probably with Eclipse apologizing for all the abuse he put Lunar through and Lunar will finally be able to move on and accept what happen and be able to continue his positive training and hopefully make amens with everyone... (If Earth isn't dead)

2. Lunar will become a Dark Astral (reluctantly)

These powers were meant to help Lunar, and now they just hurt his sister! Lunar will be done with all this star power poo and Dark star power poo! But Rez will show up and convince Lunar he's already messed up so much and Earth and the others will probably never want to see him ever again and Lunar at his lowest will believe him and leave to become Dark!Lunar (Think Anikian Skywalker and Emperor Palpatine sort of deal) and it will take maybe months before Lunar sees them all again and he'll be (reluctantly) evil and will be all sad and bad until someone (Maybe Earth, Gemini, or Eclipse) will convince Lunar to come back to the side of light and Lunar will betray Rez and help take him and Cetus down!

3. Lunar will go into hiding... with Gemini!

Turuas is now coming to kill Lunar cause he will see Lunar as a threat (fair, sadly). Gemini will probably try to smooth things over, but Turuas won't listen, and Lunar and Turuas will fight, Turuas will try to kill Lunar, and right before he does Gemini will step in and save him. The two would go into hiding to avoid The Astrals and The Dark Astrals. Now, don't think Gemini will do this out of love they're doing this to save him. Any love for him is out the window! They're only doing this cause they want to save Lunar and try to understand why he did. Not cause they love him! That's out the window right now!

Lunar and Gemini will work together to figure things out and hopefully help Earth (if she's corrupted or dead, and they'll try to purify her or resurrect her.) And try to defeat Cetus, Rez and try to protect themselves (and maybe Earth) from the Astrals.

That's all I think could happen. Let me know what you all think/what you think will happen, but no matter what happens...

It's gonna be a very very sad Thanksgiving and Christmas this year.

Lunar and Earth's relationship may never be the same.

Kat, Davis, Reed, please... DO NOT KILL EARTH!

I WILL BE SO SAD IF YOU DO!

[saddled-on-stars]

Hello! Could you please do movie Beetlejuice with a(n adult) reader summoning him with the only purpose to ask for cuddles? She didn't expect the ritual to actually work and is extremely shy, so when he shows up she's absolutely embarrased for having him come over to do something as mundane as cuddling. Thank you!

Damn y'all are thirsty for Keatlejuice- (NO HATE I SWEAR, It's just that a lot of requests have been for Keatlejuice lmao) I really should watch the movie, lmao- Again, to tell you what I tell others for Keatlejuice and Toonjuice, I can't guarantee that it will be 100% accurate, as I've never watched the cartoon or the movies, but I'm hoping to soon! Please feel free to criticize if it isn't correct! BUT LOWKEY THIS IS SO CUTE I WILL DO MY BEST, DARLING! SORRY IT WAS SO LATE!! Happy reading! - Star ★

-★-★-★-★-★-★-★- Trigger Warnings: Explicit Language, *slight* Mentions of Perverted Boss, *subtle* mentions of cycle. -★-★-★-★-★-★-★- Key: ★ (This fic is specifically for a female reader!) ★ (Y/N) = Your Name ★ (L/N) = Last Name -★-★-★-★-★-★-★-

- ★ - Summoned Snuggles - ★ -

You're lying face-down on your soft, cool mattress, feeling the soft sheets beneath your fingertips. You groan into your pillow, exhausted from the day it's been; your boss had you working the 14-hour shift instead of your typical 8-hour.

He's already an asshole as it is, he didn't have to make it worse by performing his perverted acts like squeezing your hip and brushing your thigh, which you did not consent to. Ugh, he's such a fucking perv, and you're sick of it.

To top it all off, it's that time of the month for you. Great. Cramps take over your lower abdomen, causing you to hold your stomach tighter, and wince from time to time.

A headache begins to take form in your brain, and it causes you to rub your temples, despite it not doing anything to help the pulsing in your head. Ugh, you just wish this week could end; it's only Wednesday.

Your headache pauses for a brief moment, as a small, simple idea pops into your head, causing a small shy smile to spread across your face. His hugs were always nice. They seemed to erase any pain, mostly mental, but that didn't matter.

You finally saunter out of bed and stumble over to your closet, ready to change out of that fucking itchy uniform, with a button-up white shirt, that shows off your cleavage way too much, the skirt being much too short for your liking at all. You didn't like showing off your body to the public, let alone that nasty boss of yours.

Shutting your closet door, you lock it, afraid as if something were to come in and see you exposed, even though you know full well that there's not. He wouldn't be here unless you summon him.

Finally exiting your closet, after what feels like hours of having to stand with that throbbing headache, you plop onto your bed once more. You're now wearing a pair of comfy fitness shorts, a hoodie that smells like a foggy day in a way, and your favorite pair of fuzzy socks that reach up to just below your knees, providing perfect comfort.

That familiar shy smile returns to your lips, the corners turning up slowly, but that smile quickly fades as a wince comes through, due to another headache-cramp combo. You hold your head, and lean up against the pillows that are leaning against your headboard as you groan in pain. 'Ugh, I really want him here, but I don't want to bother him! What if he's busy? What if he doesn't want to talk to me? Does he even like snuggles?-...', your thoughts say as they wrack your brain. Suddenly, a jolt of confidence flows through you, as if your body's telling you that you need to summon him. Eh, what the heck, you're in a little too much pain to care. What could go wrong?

The bedroom is still dimly lit from the lamp on your nightstand, casting soft shadows on the walls, providing the room with that comforting appearance. You transition your legs to cross in a sitting position on your bed, excited for what's to come.

"Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice."

You close your eyes and smile, knowing that he'll appear in front of you any second.

"It's showtime~.", you hear his familiar raspy voice say.

You open your eyes to see that startling, yet familiar puff of green smoke, and standing there is your favorite demon boyfriend; or really your only one for that matter.

"Howdy, Babes!", he says with a strange twirl, rather a spin on his heels, but it never fails to amuse you, causing you to giggle. Even though you've seen him countless times, you take in the sight of him.

He's wearing his typical striped suit, still spotted with green spots from here to there, but you don't mind. His hair, still sticking out in all different directions, looks even softer today, causing you to smile. His eyes are their typical deep ocean blue, and it never ceases to make you stare slightly, and those blue orbs still have the black orbs surrounding them outside of the eye.

"Hi, BJ.", you reply with a soft smile, your giggle ceasing, as you begin to fiddle with your fingernails in nervousness.

He notices your actions immediately and comes and sits across from you on the bed, using his finger to bring your head up from your lap.

"Why don't-chya tell me what's wrong, toots.", he says with comforting eyes, which isn't usually like him, but you like seeing this side of him too.

"Just-... A rough day at work, that's all!", you say with a fake smile, trying to brush it off. Oh no, you don't want to seem needy! Not. One. Bit. However, he seems to see right through that smile, and his smile slightly falters.

"Babes. I'm a dead guy. I've fuckin' seen a lot. A LOT. Did ya need me for something specific?"

No, no, no. You really don't want to sound needy, and you also didn't want to summon him for no reason. Oh boy, the truth is the only option left.

"Just-... uhm-...", you stutter as you're now chewing at your fingernails.

"A-Are you alright-... if w-we s-snuggle?"

Your eyes are squeezed shut, so much that you aren't able to see him extend his arms and pull you into his lap. You're startled at first, but eventually open your eyes, to see him with his back to the headboard, and he's inviting you to lay your head on his torso.

This is comfy for you. It feels like home, in ways you could never describe with words. Without another thought, grateful that he accepted your request, you let your arms wrap around his stomach, causing his hand to rub circles on your back.

"I gotchya, Babes. I've always gotchya."

"I know you do.", you reply as you snuggle deeper into his chest. "I love you, BJ."

"I love you too, Babes."

- ★ - Written by Saddled_On_Stars - ★ -

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

Random thought I just had in my hospital bed, but what if Alice had immediately called Rosalie/the Cullens after seeing Bella is alive? And then continued to talk to Bella?

Which scenario are we in?

We're in the "Edward gets really really really pissed because no one does what he wanted and EVERYONE IS RUINING EVERYTHING!!!"

But Let's Back it Up

Before Rosalie has a chance to call Edward?

Rosalie goes "ugh" and is very pissed off that Bella is still somehow causing their family a bunch of drama over nothing, that Alice apparently has false positives now about people fucking dying, and is so done with this bullshit.

But Edward is not told that "Bella is dead, come home and stop this".

However, the Cullens don't get to sit on their hands too long as, "news, everybody!" it turns out Victoria has been picking off people in the Forks area, held out by teenage shapeshifters, to get to Bella so that she can kill Edward's mate as a part of her revenge for the death of James.

Remember Laurent? The guy Irina's stupid in love with? He was one of them!

And wow, it sure seems like this is kind of the Cullen's fault for refusing to keep even small tabs on the town/Bella because Edward was so determined to be a dramatic diva and tear himself out of her life.

I imagine the Cullens (sans Edward, he's still moping in Rio) have a meeting and while it's going to be a tough call (Rosalie wants nothing to do with this, Jasper is torn as he wants Victoria dealt with but also doesn't want to put Alice back on her radar) ultimately I think they'd vote to go back to Forks for as long as it takes to deal with this problem.

And erm, we'll see about Bella (there's no Volturi 'thou shalt' yet nor Edward's attempted suicide, so it's not as dire as it was canonically).

The question is...

Do they tell Edward? On the one hand, he'll be pissed if he finds out they went behind his back because his lady love/Forks was in danger. He'd be beyond pissed, he'd feel betrayed on an unheard of level.

On the other hand, Edward will throw a massive fit (much like the one he threw to get them out of Forks in the first place), and when he realizes his "leave Bella" plan has had unintended side effects, that placed Bella in even more danger... a) he'll despise himself which is the last thing Edward needs b) who knows what the fuck he'll do in response to this.

There's a very tempting option here where, maybe, they can take care of things quickly enough in Forks that Edward never even realizes they went back.

This is an even more heated debate, and I imagine it's very 50/50 and "... Alice, er, how does he take it?"

Ultimately, they probably decide to tell him. He has to know what's happened, they can't keep this secret forever, and he deserved to know exactly what has happened, both the good and the bad.

Rosalie does not get to tell Edward, as that's a very bad idea, and I imagine Carlisle gets to tell him.

And so, Edward gets a phone call in Rio telling him "you done fucked up, son", not only that, but remember how he was chasing Victoria and he pathetically lost her in Mexico and kept going south for some reason until he landed in Rio? Yeah, she went all the way back to Forks where she's been trying to eat Bella this entire time.

Laurent nearly did.

And the only people protecting her are those temperamental shapeshifters who it turns out are back in full force.

And so, Edward loses his goddamn mind.

Edward: The Eclipsining

Edward comes racing back and acts similar to how he did in Eclipse. The carpet was pulled out from under him, this Jacob Black character has moved in on his territory in a way Edward did not expect for all he thought he wanted Bella to move on. Worse, Bella's in even more danger than before, has picked up very dangerous habits, and now he has to crawl back into her good graces.

Trouble is, Edward also hasn't quite been convinced that he can't live without her yet/he would have broken eventually. He knows he was having a shit time in Rio, but he didn't have that moment of her death where he concluded there was no purpose to his life anymore. Oh, he still plans to nobly kill himself when she dies, but he sincerely thinks he can leave her alone, she can live her human life, and he'll kill himself off screen.

It's just... when he leaves her alone she doesn't live that idyllic human life he wants her to.

If Bella puts it to a vote, I imagine she'll still win as Carlisle will probably side with the majority, even though there's no threat of execution/Edward's imminent suicide on the table. In which case Edward smashes the Korean TV, but I'm not sure would ask for marriage.

He wants to marry Bella, but he also doesn't want her to commit her precious human life to him/he still wants to extract himself. I imagine Edward would plan to be with her in the short term, so that the family doesn't go and turn her, but is always looking for Bella to a) change her mind about turning into a vampire b) extract himself from the situation.

And Jacob Black would be great for that. In fact, while Edward fucking hates him at first, he proves himself a worthy advisory, he's brave and noble, and Bella clearly cares deeply for him.

... Edward is suddenly Team Jacob.

Edward deep down is Team Edward, but he can't be Team Edward, because he has to leave Bella as soon as possible without turning into a vampire. But Team Jacob means Team Human means that Bella won't asked to be turned and will live a normal human life... with a shapeshifter but at least he'll be able to protect her.

I imagine Jacob has very little idea what to make of Edward. He hated this guy, still hates him but why is Edward saying, "Yes, Jacob, we must make you as appealing to Bella as possible". And leaving them alone together, on purpose, so that Jacob will have opportunities.

Jacob... doesn't want to think about weird vampires being weird.

But it all ends up being moot point.

The Volturi

Due to the lack of Volturi meeting, I imagine the Volturi do come to Seattle much faster to wipe out the vampires. If they do, and they do stop in on the Cullens just to see what's happening, then depending who visits they will find out about Bella.

And, "hm, are you turning her anytime soon?" It's clear she's very gifted, so most likely death is off the table (Jane wasn't there by herself canonically, she doesn't get to call all the shots). So, probably they're looking to take Bella back to the mothership.

Depending who's there, Bella is turned immediately. If it's Aro... he may be persuaded by Alice as he was in canon, to let it happen on its own time, or he may turn her ther himself because these people clearly aren't going to and "she should join the guard".

But most likely, Bella gets turned and kidnapped to Italy for at least a year while she's in her newborn phase. After which she's 'free to go', if she still wants to after Chelsea of course.

After that...

Well.

A lot of bloody nonsense.

[reignpage]

Hi! I'm just dropping by to say that i appreciate the time and effort you make to write all these wonderful works of art!! My question for you is what is your favourite trope and why? I'm curious since you mentioned you weren't actually an angst girlie like me! If you have and recommendations, please feel free to share them as well! Thank you!

awww thank you for your kind words

don't get me wrong, I love angst, I love the feeling of my chest tightening and then maladaptive daydreaming about being in the situation to the point I start sobbing (that's probably why I'm not too bad at writing angst, I'm very empathetic)

BUT I just didn't want you guys accusing me of being obsessed pls im a STAR

as for my favourite trope, it's always going to be friends to lovers

OH GOD FRIENDS TO LOVERS WITH NANAMI KENTO PLEASE SOMEBODY SEDATE ME

I always think of him in a friends to lovers situation because I imagine he's the kind of guy who does acts of service and never tells you. he doesn't do it for recognition or for the gratitude, not even in the hopes that you'll see him as much more than a friend. he does it just cause he wants to make your life easier, to see you smile a little more brightly, because he can sleep soundly knowing you're worry-free

so for me its my favourite trope because of the PINING

two people who are each other's persons, wanting more but fearing that to dare would mean to lose it all

and the whole deciding that being friends is enough because it's never 'just' friends with you, it means everything to them to be near you in any capacity

that your happiness will always supersede any of their selfish desires

the only recommendation I have is @saintkaylaa's hidden inventory gc and her jjk lore

I was so happy to have found her content because she encapsulated everything I love about the friends to lovers trope so well

thank you for question, it was a nice break from the stress of writing essays 🥲

[ashblooddragons]

My Heart, My Ruin (Chapter 1/?)

Warning! implied marital rape at the end

25 ac Oldtown 

Rhaellas pov

I’m sitting next to Mama resting my head on her belly feel the baby move around. Kepus is getting married to a lady named Ceryse Hightower. I keep looking up at the ceiling as I love the art up there.

“Darling it’s time to watch and pay attention, the bride is coming down the aisle.” Mama says as Papa helps her stand up before he reaches over to pick me up so I can watch.

“I still can’t believe Father agreed to this, he’s only ten and three, barely out of boyhood and now he’s getting wed off?” Papa says he’s been saying that a lot lately.

When I see the bride I gasp, her dress is so pretty. It's made out of white shiny smooth stuff, green butterflies on her shoulders, and she's wearing a gold tiara with bright green stones in it. I hope one day I look that pretty when I'm married. I look down at the dress I'm wearing and smile, it's dark purple just like Kepus's eyes, and it sparkled when I was in the sun.

“There is nothing we can do, it is their child, it is their choice.” Mama says hushing Rhaena who is in our Nursemaid's arms.

“She is ten years his senior, wouldn't her family want her with someone closer to her age?” Papa continues. 

“Most likely, but he is a prince, what better match would they find?” Mama responds as she rubs her back, she does that a lot now that her belly is so big.

I look over at Kepus, he doesn't seem happy, aren't people supposed to be happy when getting married? That's what Mama and Papa say at least, so why does he seem sad?

Once the bride finally meets Kepus at the alter the Stepton starts warping ribbon around their hands. 

“What is the ribbon for?” I whisper to Papa, or I at least try. 

“It's symbolic, the ribbon is a way to show their union is strong, that they are now bound, tied together forever.”  For some reason, I don't like the thought of Kepus being bound to someone, to her.

I grow curious again when they start chanting the same thing “Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger. I am his-her's, he-she is mine from this day until the end of my days.” 

“Why are they saying the same things?”

Papa chuckles when Mama giggles at my curiosity, they always say I'm as curious as a cat. 

“They are swearing before the gods that they are now bound, married.” Papa explains rubbing my back when I start to pout. He must not realize I don't like Kepus being married because he says this instead. “Shhh, you can stand on your own soon darling.” 

Once they are announced husband and wife everyone claps and cheers loudly. It startles me and Rhaena causing Mama and Papa to try and calm us down as Rhaena screams and I start to cry. 

“I told you bringing them to the wedding wasn't a good idea.” Mama says trying to get Rhaena to calm down. 

“They were fine until it got too loud for their little ears, isn't that right darling.” Papa says as he kisses my head and rests my head on his shoulder covering my other ear with his hand. 

Papa's hand are soft, not bumpy on the palms like Kepus, I want Kepus's hands to hold me, not Papa's.

Maegors pov

I know the Lords and Ladies are cheering, but all I can hear is Rhaella's sobs. Must be too loud, she never did like large crowds or loud noises, let alone the two combined. I think to myself trying to to scream at the crowd to shut up.

“Are you ready for the feast, husband?” My now wife, lady Ceryse Hightower asks with a smirk. 

She is beautiful, I'll give her that, but there is no world where she could match the fire within me. 

“I suppose.” 

She doesn't seem to like my short responses, as she frowns but quickly hides it with a fake joyful smile.

As we walk out I catch sight of Rhaella, Aenys seems to be trying to calm her down. But she keeps shrugging off his touch, hopefully, she will enjoy the feast and festivities more than this worthless wedding. I swear I've caught at least five lords snoring in their seats, seems they found it just as hard to stay awake with the Septons hour long speech of love and marriage before I was actually married.

Once we make it out of the Stary Sept we climb into a carriage to wave and greet the small folk as they rejoice in this farce. 

“we didn't have the chance to truly yet to know each other, so I had a thought, what if we did a game as we ride towards the festivities?” Ceryse asks fixing her necklace. She doesn't seem excited by the idea, but I would much rather do this ‘game’ over sitting in uncomfortable silence.

“What sort of game?” 

“Hmm, hpw about I ask you a question and you have to answer it? This of course goes both ways.”

“Fine.” I say with a annoyed and resigned sigh.

“I'll go first then!” She says only to stop and think for a moment. “What is your favorite color?” 

The first thing that comes to my mind is Rhaella's eyes, those pools of lavender that just looking at makes you feel calm and at ease. But I can't answer with that, for it doesn't seem like he best way to start a marriage, by declaring I love to stare into my little niece's eyes. 

Then I turn to Rhaella’s hair, those wild pure sliver riglets. How you can always find, I imagine you’d only lose her in the snow they are that pure and uncorrupted, just like her. 

The last thought is how when Rhaella laughs her rosy cheeks almost become a true crimson. The way her laughter always sets off mine. It always makes the worst days better somehow. Always makes my soul feel like it isn't a pit of pure blackness ready to destroy everything dear to me, but instead, it has some joy yet to be dug up and found for the world to see. 

And when I look down at my crimson red jerkin I know the answer, I don’t even need to think anymore.

“Red.” 

“Oh? I find red too angry of a color, I much prefer the calmness of green. though I see the appeal it is one of your house cars after all.” Ceryse answers even without me asking her the same question. 

A talker it seems. I think dryly as she keeps rambling on, and on about what colors she deems gorgeous and the ones she deems not worthwhile and why. 

Once we finally make it to the Hightower I partially bolt out of the carriage to escape that woman’s gods forsaken chatter. How one could love the sound of their own voice that much is beyond me.

I take her hand out of habit, for I was always taught to take my mother's, Rhaella's, and now hers.

When we enter everyone cheers and I notice my brother cover Rhaella's ears leaning down to whisper reassuring words to calm you down. She squirms in his lap trying to stay calm but the way her little face frowns and petal lips pout I doesn't seem my brother is succeeding. 

“I heard you are quite close to your eldest niece.” Ceryes says as she smiles and waves at all who have come to celebrate in our union. 

“Yes, what of it?” 

She seems to flinch at my cold tones before answering. “Only that we both have that in common, we adore our families and would do anything for them.” She responds trying to stay cheery.

As soon as we make it to the high table my father begins a speech. The same speech he does at every feast. His nonsense of how we must stand as one realm and how unions between houses will further the seven Kingdoms prosperity. 

Every time I hear it I can't help but roll my eyes, these whole already know this, they don't need their King reminding them at every fucking wedding. 

I drown out my father hoping his speech will end. maybe it will bore me to death and I won't have to truly go through with this wedding? I think dryly until Rhaella leans over Aeny's reaching for me. 

“Kepus, I want Kepus!” She demands a loom of fury on her face. She must have been denied me too many times this eve. 

For the rest of the feast I hold my little niece close letting her play with my rings and cloak. It almost seems like everything will be fine again, like it's just the two of us in her favorite field to pick flowers so she can make flower crowns for me and her. But soon it crashes down, the bedding ceremony begins and Rhaella is taken to her chambers to sleep the night away, already having fallen asleep against my chest. 

The rest is a blur, all I remember is wishes for those woman to stop touching me, and once they did I have Ceryse undressing me. 

I lay the rest of the night awake trying not to think about how I still feel like a boy, not a man who must make children. A boy who shouldn't have been touched the way I was, I fight the bile that rises in my throat all night forcing it back down. I keep reminding myself this is my duty, this is what I must do for the good of my family, and I can not tremble, I can not be scared, and I can not hide from this anymore.

I turn my skin to steel, and my heart to stone. But try as I must, my soul will not turn cold, for Rhaella has already changed it for the better. 

And with that thought I turn onto my side and pray to the fourteen again that sleep will find me, and it seems this time they truly did hear me.

special thanks to @sugutoad for making the header for this fic! I swear I would be lost without you girly!

TAGLIST: @sugutoad @ilikefelines @classicsimpforaaronwarner @mmogurl @sachaa-ff @baybaybear1

[fafatile]

JAKE'S IDEAL TYPE.

I used tarot and oracle cards to do this reading, all readings are for entertainment purposes only.

I see that Jake has a quite confusing ideal type. I see a polarity here about their personality and energy, but I'll try to explain it quite clearly.

Jake likes someone that's popular, someone that's very charming. A person that has a lot of friends. I see someone very open, smart and witty. Jake likes a person that talks a lot, someone that can keep a conversation with him and can keep him interested. In relationships he likes mental stimulation and it's very important for him. I get the imagen of a very outspoken person, blunt and very straightforward, this person likes to be very direct, they're smart and very knowledgeable about a lot if stuff and they aren't scared of giving their opinions, not sugarcoating anything so with this being said I see that he likes someone a little bit controversial and problematic, but for good causes. Because I see he also wants someone that has a big heart, very loyal and knows how to make friends and keep connections for a long time. He likes when someone is very open, not mysterious at all, an open book I hear. Someone that's very open about their likes and dislikes, with their ideals, thoughts. He loves a logical person, but he also likes when a person uses their heart on their sleeve. So I think it's pretty contradictory, but he loves someone with a lot of nuances.

He also hopes his partner is very popular, the person he wants is beautiful and charming enough to capture the attention of a lot of people. So he loves when a person has options in love, but they don't put attention to all those offers because they have high standards. He likes hot people, sexy, very fiery. Someone that shows off, but at the same time are picky. I see someone that is loud, that shines, with a great sense of fashion, very feminine, but at the same time masculine. He likes someone with duality. He is attracted to someone creative, that does everything to get what they dream. Someone that isn't scared of dreaming of reaching great things because they believe they can reach anything. I feel he likes a successful person, but that at the same time they're very charitable and supportive of other people. So he might like a person that can support him through everything.

For what I see here Jake doesn't feel mature enough in love and he might have some trust issues. I don't think he has seen love as something serious, but he's looking for someone that can teach him to mature in this area. He might been in some bad connections in the past or possibly heard about bad stories about love, that he might see it as a burden. But he wants to grow and improve in that aspect.

If I'm a real I see a baddie here, he might people that have a rebel side. I don't see a traditional person at all, someone that's is all or nothing. Very intense with their actions and words. Very open with their feelings. Someone that doesn't hold back and isn't scared. He might like to debate or argue with people for fun so he expects his partner can give him a good fight and keep the debate lightly, but with a lot of passion.