#✧ ･ ° ･↣ ❛ death is the only god who comes when you call ❜(answered)

[lilac-sweet]

I’ve seen a lot of posts discussing whether Solas and Mythal’s relationship was romantic in nature, or it was some kind of mother/son deal, but I think the answer is a lot simpler and staring us all in the face: Solas was Mythal’s dog.

So a lot has been said about how toxic Mythal and Solas’ relationship was, and I’m not gonna get into all that. What I will say, is that I believe the relationship’s power imbalance may have become gradually bigger after Solas took physical form at Mythal’s behest.

When Solas said: “I will always follow where you go”, we should take note of the word “follow”. Solas did not lead with the other Evanuris; he followed Mythal and had her markings on his face. Much like how Ghilan’nain followed Andruil, yet their relationship was romantic, and Ghilan’nain quickly agreed to take on a leadership role when offered. Solas did not. We don’t know whether he was never offered one or that he simply had no desire to lead (both might be true), but the disparity between Mythal and Solas’ positions were noted by those around them, and was interpreted (we hear it from Elgar’nan) as Solas being Mythal’s “lapdog”. This interpretation seemed to be the general consensus- proven by the many dog-like statues in Mythal’s temple, and Solas symbolically becoming known as a canine.

We don’t know how Solas felt being compared to a dog - perhaps the comparison seemed flattering/ less condescending in the beginning: we know that there are strong bonds between people and their animals in dragon age: Davrin and Assan, Kell and Hafter, and the general lore about Marbari dogs. “Turlum” is a powerful thing (as we see with Davrin and Assan) and may have been exactly how they felt about each other.

When we explore the lighthouse we come across a piano and a codex entry called “memories of a duet”:

the relief of private achievement, away from well-meant misunderstanding and mindless worship; an unspoken joy in the center of rising, perfect echoes.

Finally, a beloved memory surfaces. A smiling glance, meeting at a crescendo; a shared moment of understanding; seeing completely, and being wholly seen.

This entry seems to sum up their relationship quite well: “away from well-meant misunderstanding” (could refer to a romantic interpretation of their relationship), and “seeing completely, and being wholly seen.” (Turlum)

Whatever the relationship had started as, the power imbalance seems to have reached a peak around the time the Evanuris decided they wanted to lead their people as gods. We don’t know whether there actually was a power difference between the Evanuris and the rest of the elves when they were all spirits: my guess is there was one, but not a huge one: perhaps the difference between a normal person and a mage. When the Evanuris decided they were gods, they made a hard line in the sand: separating themselves from their people, and separating Mythal from Solas. This is also where the “lapdog” comment from Elgar’nan seems incredibly condescending.

The markings on his face no longer symbolize devotion, but ownership. He burns them off and instead of a dog becomes a wolf (using the allegory of Elgar’nan). An obvious metaphor here is that the markings symbolize a dog collar.

He frees the elves but becomes an unwilling symbol himself, thus separating him from his people after already having been separated from the Evanuris. The man literally becomes a lone wolf.

However, Mythal and Solas’ love for each other continues, and is obviously still strong when Solas asks Mythal to run away with him (at this point he must feel desperately lonely). What happens to Solas when Mythal dies can only be imagined: there’s a reason why Assan follows Davrin in death.

For the first time in his physical life he is truly alone and has to figure out who he is without Mythal. The only role he has ever known away from her, is the rebel leader. He doubles down on his efforts to stop the Evanuris and destroys the world of the elves in the process. His grief and regret over Mythal and the home of the elves chart his course from when he wakes up until inquisition.

With a friendly inquisitor and especially a romanced Lavellan he finds a new role, or rather, he rediscovers himself before Mythal: a spirit of wisdom. For the first time in a long time he also finds a companion: someone he can rely on. Someone who eases that lonely ache he must have felt for millennia.

There are many cool aspects of the Crestwood scene (romanced Lavellan), but the one I want to highlight is Solas’ reaction to the vallaslin: when he decides to tell her the truth of who he was/is, but chickens out the last second. He panics and the fact that he immediately jumps to the vallaslin says something about how tied it is to him psychologically. He doesn’t force Lavellan to get rid of it, but he certainly does his very best to convince her. It is the moment Solas truly sees Lavellan as his mirror image and his equal. She is another lone wolf, mindlessly worshipped and ostracized, but she still wears that damn collar.

I am convinced Solas knows rationally that the vallaslin no longer means what it once meant - Lavellan can even insist the Dalish have reclaimed it, and he still tries to convince her to get rid of it, because to HIM it symbolizes enslavement and it is a painful reminder of his own ties to Mythal (it is an even stronger parallel if the inquisitor drinks from the well and has Mythal’s markings).

This is also the difference between Mythal and Lavellan: one is the master (with every connotation) the other another wolf.

In conclusion: Mythal and Solas had the relationship of a master and their dog: a relationship that many with pets themselves can relate to, both in the aspect of devotion, companionship, and in the power imbalance. In a way the “mother” interpretation isn’t far off - it just so happens that Solas is a fur baby.

[bluerosefox]

So... This was inspired by listening to EPIC (FREAKING LOVE ALL THE ALBUMS, SO GOOD) and by @noxcheshire post of Tim being Odysseus reincarnated and Danny (maybe also reincarnated) being his Penelope (Here) so I had to turn it into a Dead Tired idea.

The song The Challenge is the main one here. (Cause I LOVE that song... along with Would You Fall In Love With Me Again)

So WHAT IF Danny IS the reincarnated Penelope, after becoming the Ghost King Danny's memories of his past life as Penelope returns and remembers how before dying/ or being reincarnated both Penelope and Odysseus promised to find each other in their new lives, no matter who they are, what new form they take, they will find each other.

So Danny/Penelope, just like before waits for their Odysseus to return to them, but also tries to find him in their new life (CW is laughing whenever Danny asks for hints and gets a 'In due time, just wait' answer, ugh Danny wants to smack CW for that)

However just like in his previous life with being in a high position of power, Danny is being pressured to marry/take a spouse (now its not just men/males though so its a huge headache, I head canon Ghosts don't care much for gender preference) mostly by the dang eyeballs that Danny is still trying to find a way to get rid of without upsetting the Infinite Realms dedicate (but slowly healing) balance even if Danny wanted nothing more than to punch all of the suitors out.

So Danny decides to play the long game again.

And waits for their Odysseus return.

Danny's wait is over when they suddenly feel the Realms shift one day, as if welcoming someone familiar home, and the same feeling Danny had when he had been Penelope and saw the storm that was sign of Odysseus coming home, Danny decides its time to bring out The Challenge once again. (CW gifted Danny a few things from his past as Penelope as a coronation gift, like Odysseus's bow (now enchanted to be unbreakable), a painting of when he was Penelope, with Telemchus, and Odysseus, and the Marriage Bed/Olive Tree, AND the Palace Odysseus made that Danny takes to being in over being at Pariah's Keep)

-x-x-

Meanwhile

Tim Drake, aka Red Robin, always had strange dreams as a child.

War, Death, Monsters, Gods, Goddesses.

His dreams were more like nightmares, haunting him and he sometimes woke up in cold sweat.

He hated storms. Hated being in the water for to long. Hated how he felt both tense but also at home when around Greek heroes, as if he was afraid to 'disrespect' them (Cassie was the only one he didn't feel that way around, mostly cause they had been somewhat friends before their heroing since their parents knew each other) but also knew how to appease them should he insult them. He also had a strange hatred for the CoO with a burning passion because he felt like they were mocking real Owls.

The worst part of nightmares that always pop up are of what feels like should be his home is being invaded by unwanted guests (they aren't guests), how they are angry over trying to string a bow and shot an arrow through axes, of the terrible terrible things he hear them saying they were going to do to his loved ones (two names that keep getting muted out).

How it ends in bloodshed with echoing of begging, pleading, mercy, and screams.

However in those nightmares at the end. He also finds himself looking for something in them.

Or rather he always found someone waiting for him at the end of the nightmares. Calling him by the wrong name but it sounds just right coming from them.

The dream always ends with the person asking 'How long has it been?' and before he can answer he wakes up.

So yeah Tim has horrifying nightmares/dreams he could never explain.

And the urge to find someone. To go home to them.

It isn't until he and his friends from Young Justice are hit by a spell from Klarion (who may or may not had a visit from a certain chaos encouraging Time Keeper) and sent to a place called the Infinite Realms in the middle of their fight, that Tim is hit hard with déjà vu when he spots a certain Palace in the distance and overhears some of the 'people?' (they glow and float and some don't even look human?! where are they?) talk about how the 'King' has issued a new 'Challenge' for his 'suitors'.

A Challenge involving a bow, and axes.

And Tim, feels like he knows this all too well and needs to do it.

[galgali]

just gonna answer all of these bc i want to hope that's cool

like everyone else my favorite episode is 25 😔 (special shoutout to the last ten minutes of episode 37 though that is one of the best show endings i've ever seen in my life)

like rem. i'd be all over that

honestly for a while

i want to answer this but the opposite way-- i think kabru from dungeon meshi would thrive in death note skjfgdfjg (and light would make a great trigun villain)

sooo many (death note is a comedy) but probably the funniest sequence to me in the whole thing is when they're at school and light calls misa to get L's name and is incredibly smug and maniacal about it and then L picks up the phone

first one of course

light 😔

GOD.... WHY DID I ALMOST TEAR UP AT L'S DEATH EVEN WHEN I KNEW THAT WOULD HAPPEN FOR OVER A DECADE... THAT WAS CRAZY

my FAAAAVORITE light yagami song is bird song by florence + the machine. it's so so so so him it's crazy i can't believe there's not a billion amvs of it

matsuda OBVIOUSLY. also naomi and honestly L like that would be so funny

omg the end of the yotsuba arc where everyone on the task force starts touching the death note and everyone can see the shinigami was crazy i loved how that was done. but also as someone who somehow was not spoiled on what misa's actual role is and only knew her as "light's girlfriend or something" for 12 years, finding out that she also has a death note was surprising and so cool!

read the hinterland doctrine NOW. YES ALL 700K. CLEAR YOUR SCHEDULE AND DO IT RIGHT NOW.

i'm clinically insane over lawlight sorry. also a big remisa fan though

adult sayu....? i guess....? 😭

oh ABSOLUTELY matsuda obviously but also deeply ryuk. i'm also here to laugh at everything, go "oh you're crazy crazy" to light yagami, and pester people to feed me my favorite food

the entirety of light's warehouse speech because the voice acting for it is insanely good, and especially the "who else could have done it and come this far?" line

literally how shinigami use the death note. which is crazy because that's the whole premise but i feel like that's so weirdly unexplained?? like ryuk says that shinigami are doing fuckall in their realm and not even killing humans anymore but isn't being reaped by a shinigami how humans die? clearly people were still dying like normal before light got the note?? we never see any shinigami do "regularly scheduled" death note kills at all so HOW is ANY of this working

PERIWINKLEEEEEEE ☺️ (also they do in the jdrama! misa's is red it's so cute)

CUNTY! i'd need some strappy goth fit that could also double as charli xcx concert clothing

SALT AND VINEGARRRRR

other than some stupid posts here and there, the one i'm currently working on is a fic where L uses the death note and i'm very pleased with the idea... time will tell if i do anything with it

that mello and near are meant to represent L's two halves-- emotion and logic respectively

the rain/foot scene in the anime, but the entire blue scene in the jdrama. god. i'm not over that. there's soooo much you can read into for both of those scenes

misa of courseeee

episode 2 :') episode 1 was already fun but episode 2 was where it REALLY grabbed me. i LOVED seeing the set-up of light versus L and how the lind l. tailor thing + the resulting SCATHING call-out that followed played out. i was just having so, so, so much fun with it and continued to have a lot of fun with it

my favorite character is unfortunately light so everything bad that happened to him i was cheering for and he deserved it buuuuut if i had to pick a saddest thing to happen. i really adore everything about his death and there is something undeniably tragic about the scene where he runs past the vision of his younger self. i love that light, corrupted beyond belief, bleeding out and running away like a coward, has to face the memory of who he was before he ruined himself forever, and has to face just how much he's fallen and lost everything. it's incredibly cathartic for the audience to see light finally have to recognize that he's failed beyond redemption, even minutes before his death

💀🪽🥱->📕🌏->📕👦-> 💀💀💀💀💀💀->🇱🤔->🇱👦->🇱🔗👦->🏳️‍🌈❓->👦🫱📕->⌚🖊️->🇱💀->👦🥳->👦🪦💃->💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀->🇳➕Ⓜ️🟰💀🪽🖊️👦📕->👦💀->🥳

oh my godddd picking just one is so hard when death note honestly has some of my favorite official art of anything ever. i just love the style of it, the colors, and the imagery used. so i'll just use a recent favorite which is:

29. THE 2015 JDRAMA.... i jokingly call it death note stampede because it feels like a remix of the source material in a similar way as trigun stampede, but as with stampede, i also really love it. for the most part the differences it makes are pretty interesting and i think it stands really well on its own. while i love how unapologetically evil canon light is i also love how tortured light is in this one and how much desperation is in his relationship with L. it's a fascinating take on death note! (and in many ways, a much more cohesive one) also a huge fan of the musical though

30. REM.... i love her so much. i would say naomi but i've yet to read the bb case (SORRY I WILL I PROMISE). also kiyomi had such fascinating potential but o&o are too misogynist to do anything about it 🥲 the pattern here is just female characters.

Favorite chapter/episode?

If you had a Death Note, what would you want your Shinigami to look like?

How long do you think you could get away with hiding a Death Note?

If your favorite character weren’t in Death Note, what anime/manga do you think they would thrive in?

A scene that makes you laugh.

Which is your favorite opening?

Your favorite kira?

The death that affected you the most.

What song(s) fit the vibe of your favorite character?

A character you would hang out with irl.

What moment surprised you the most?

What is a fanwork (edit, fic, art, etc.) that you still think about to this day? (Pls link to the original!)

Favorite ships?

What character do you think you look the most like?

Which character’s personality do you relate to?

A line from the series that stuck with you.

A question that was never answered, but you wonder about all the time.

If Death Notes came in different colors, what color would yours to be?

What would be your staple kira catching outfit?

Favorite potato chip flavor?

A Death Note fanwork that you’ve made and are proud of.

A favorite Death Note theory.

Your favorite interaction.

Who do you think had the best style?

At what point did you fall in love with Death Note?

Saddest moment for your favorite character.

Lay out the plot of Death Note using only emojis.

Favorite official art.

Favorite Death Note Spin off media.

A character that needs to be mentioned more.  

[wassup-its-e]

Wynncraft OC Masterpost : 𝐸𝓁𝒾𝒶𝓈 𝑀𝒶𝓍𝒾𝑒

First thing first hes a walking corpse of a soldier, hes is dead, LONG dead now. 🪦🥀

♰ He is a Wynncraft OC and if you know what happened in Wynn you know why hes dead, if you don't im so sorry that man went through alot to explain the entirety of WYNN in this chatbox, in Wynn end game you get a choice to trade your life for a memory wipe and you wont have to suffer in this cruel world anymore so he traded his eyes and his memory to live a normal life again only to be another wandering lost soul in the void that is Lutho Silent Expanse.

♰ He have Very Very Bad Religious Trauma [POV God made you "the chosen one" so he can puts you through so much and God doesnt care about you whatsoever AND HE KILLED YOUR WIFE] He lost his friends he lost his wife he lost his life.

 ♰ He shipped with Lari [THE BEST CHARACTER EVER.] , theyre platonically married.......... Lari met Elias, The Lone Soldier who had wandered into her forest looking to her for assistance... 

♰ after many difficult trials together, after every obstacles that come in their way, after everything that shouldve broken them apart, they stayed together...

⋅────────────⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰────────────⋅

Till death do us part.

Lari have been missing since ████████ , Elias is nowhere to be found.

⋅────────────⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰────────────⋅

Ok actual things that isnt about him being dead

Lutho wandering souls have lost their colors when they stay, that is why hes grayscale

He should be 30 by now, we say by now because hes been dead for a whileeee

He is an Arcanist a class in wynn that are the Death bringer and the uncontrollable forces of Chaos, thats why hes so traumatized

The golden bracelets "Double Vision" was a gift from Lari before she ████████, it is made from The Light so it negated all of the Silent's Expanse forces thats why its the only thing with color left.

He holds the staff that is called The Arcanist Tome it is a book binded into magical wood, if use the Tome too much the user will experience a wave of intense overwhelming sensory amplification that will actively harm the user mentally, a Mana Overflow.

He doesnt originally have a name, since the Frumans wipes all of your memory they wiped his name too, The name you see on the character is name Lari gave to him and his last name Maxie was his only real friend, hes a John Doe

⋅────────────⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰────────────⋅

please ask me about my OC i'll explode

⋅────────────⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰────────────⋅

[s1ater]

potential.

pairings. levi ackerman x fem!reader

about. levi has an eye on you.

warnings. gifs not mine

slaters note. okay something different for my blog. I know this has some flaws and inaccuracies with the cold and titans but whatever. I am also scheming up a reiner fic hehe

the frigid weather soaked every particle of your body as you trudged through snow that continued to pile up on the mountain you trekked on. the thick flakes that invaded your vision made it hard for you to even remotely focus on where you were going--where you needed to be.

you'd be buried before you'd reach camp.

the 104 cadet corps were set on the footpath of a mountain as a training exercise despite the ruthless weather. the blizzard was weather meant for death, and even as months of training beat down on you and your fellow cadets practically prepared you for such harsh conditions, some of you were still yet to grow immune to rough circumstances.

you pulled daz, a fellow comrade, on a makeshift sleigh in order for easy transportation through the snow. but even with that and as time had passed and snow had begun to pile, it wasn't as easy as the first hour. the boy who had seemed to have fallen ill with the more time spent in the cold was passing the similar feeling on to you.

fucking hell.

sometimes you felt keith sadies only lived to watch you all suffer.

training had to be one of the biggest pains in your ass. especially when your fellow comrades lacked the level of aptitude you solely possessed. and especially after the large interest levi ackerman had shown of you.

the training corps had been bustling for the past week over the matter of you and your level of mastery at anything thrown your way. it was always like that; it was hard for your skill to go unnoticed or grow accustomed to for that matter, but this time, the only difference was the matter of who was noticing you.

levi ackerman was a highly admired man among your comrades--well really anyone within the walls. humanities strongest soldier. he was agile and had genius combat skills. he always seemed to know the enemies next move before they did.

so when levi ackerman, captain of the levi squad, somehow found himself wandering amongst the cadet corps in search of girl who possessed the same level of skill that they said mirrored his own--he couldn't help but come see for himself.

and what he saw... he must've liked.

"god, help me," you grit your teeth, giving the rope you had slung around your shoulder one last tug before halting.

it was quiet here, windy, but quiet. you truly and finally felt alone up on this snowy mountain, even more so that it seemed you were so close to death. but at least it was quiet.

you glance down to daz's bundled up body, almost wishing you were him instead of the one dragging his body to possible refuge. this could all be for nothing... your decision to stay back in hopes to save another body might lead to your death too and--, "no."

you can't think like that. not now.

"gotta keep moving," you pull the rope again. "think of something else, y/n."

think of him.

"you're impressive, miss y/l/n," you sat in the dining hall watching this so called "greatest solider" with careful and timid eyes as he paced before you. "but I'm sure you know that already."

he watched you train. he watched you get tested by your head commander with screams. he watched you send anyone who fought hand to hand combat against you to their ass. he watched and he almost admired you.

even with the slight crack in his usual stoic shell, you were still at a loss as to what he was doing here. he kept his true intentions to himself, not even caring to speak to commander sadies. requesting you to the dining hall was his first move out of observing, but you sat here still, wondering, what did he want?

"I want you, y/n."

your slight recollection is broken by a loud, ground shaking sound.

thump. thump.

you freeze, feeling every bit of your body grow colder than it already was--if that was even possible.

"shit, shit, shit," you knew that sound. you knew exactly what that meant. you were quick to press your pace faster and onward as if to escape it, but you knew better. "not now."

you stop just as fast as you started, looking around fastly; looking toward daz's body. you needed to find coverage.

thump. thump. thump.

your eyes survey the scenery around you, seeking for something that could not only hide you, but the boy that was getting harder and harder to keep alive.

it was like fate didn't want you to be a good person.

your eyes settled on a lower tree line. you had to get higher. to have the advantage, you needed height. there was no way getting away from this thing and there was no way you’d kill this thing at your small height.

you had to climb.

but daz.

“you’re becoming a real pain in my ass,” you grit your teeth, lugging him toward the tall pine trees.

you’ve disregarded the rope, now pulling him by the cotton fabric sleeping bag he was wrapped in. you huffed, shuffling backwards as fast as you could till you felt a wall of branches push against you.

thump. thump.

it was close now. the sound of its footfalls were earth shattering—you could feel it in your bones. this drove you to move faster than you could barely process. you got on your hands and knees, pushing daz’s body into the underbelly of the tree, deciding this would be the best place to store him as you would attempt to butcher the oncoming titan.

you're swift to pull off your pack now, shuffling through the contents inside looking for the thick dagger you didn't go anywhere without. this would be hard without ODM gear, nearly impossible, but your level of skill would be just enough to get you through this.

once you possessed the blade, you dropped your pack under the tree--

thump. thump. thump.

there it was.

it's ugly face barely peaked over the top of the pine trees as it guided itself through them in search of you. it's jaw was already unlatched and salivating at the mouth.

"fuck me," you pulled yourself into the pine tree, now scaling to the top as fast as possible. "levi, you fucking bastard."

"you're from shiganshina."

you nod.

he does as well, slowly his pace, "is that why you want to become a scout? for revenge"

"no," you shook your head, still keeping your eyes strictly trained on the table you sat at.

"then why?" he sat before you now, taking you by surprise and causing you to finally looking at him--just like he wanted.

you swallowed sharply. you didn't understand this level of intimidation that suddenly took over you--you had heard all of the stories of levi ackerman, but you didn't find yourself swooning like your fellow comrades. what was so special about him? nothing--is what you thought... and yet you sat here in slight anxiety as if you were sitting in the presence of royalty.

"I'm not sure... honestly," you glance up at him. "all my life I had my father telling me what I was and what I wanted. he told me my purpose was to become a scout—but now that i’m here, i’m not so sure.”

levi is silent as he thinks over your words, then, humming, nodding slowly, “i’ll give you purpose, if that’s what you’re looking for.”

you now fully look at him, almost taken aback by his choice of words, but intrigued.

levi felt pitty for you. you were polluted with so much potential and yet you lacked a drive to fulfill it. he knew there was more to you than just a skilled soldier who overruled their comrades, and he so desperately wanted to see it. if you were so good now, he couldn’t imagine how good you’d be with the right motivation.

“i want you to join levi squad, y/n,” he folds his hands. “you’re very excellent for your age and i know you know it. your comrades know it. i know it.”

levi is typically reluctant to admit admiration for another, especially upon first meeting. admiration and praise was earned, but it seemed you were different.

“you’re too good for training, i know you think that, but you need it. you already possess an advantage over all your peers, better for them to think they still have a chance rather than initiate you weeks into training,” he gets up now.

“wait,” you stand with him. “what does this mean?”

“this means you’re an upcoming scout of levi scout.”

you curse levi now as you hold your self tightly to a pine tree, attempting to push yourself far from an unlatched jaw bearing its teeth at you.

yeah, fuck levi and his request to cushion the egos of your fellow comrades.

**

"can't believe she would ruin her chances with levi squad this easily."

"what do you propose she should've done; leave daz to the wolves and let him freeze to death?"

jean doesn't say anything to eren's response, knowing that's exactly what he would've done, or at least left him to someone else to drag him along.

"that's probably why captain levi took so much interest in her, jean," armin sets his gaze on the side of his campions face, shining light to what some of them may have considered your act of courageousness, stupidity. "not only is she impressive with battle tactic, but she also looks out for her fellow comrades."

"just like we're going to do," mikasa's hollow voice catches all of their attention.

"you don't mean you want to go all the way back out there?" jean looks at the side of the girl's face like she's almost insane. "after the long trek we already went through?"

“what is that?” eren's voice covers jean's whiney protests once his eyes size onto the faint sight of a dark figure. "y/n?" his voice is faint as he squints, attempting to clear up his vision, but it's no use with the excessive amount of wind and snow plaguing every inch of his sight.

"no way that's not her."

it becomes more and more abundantly clear what they were looking at, especially as they take steps closer--but your appearance doesn't match the one of which they last saw you at.

"I'll go get commander shadis," armin leans toward the cabins, running off.

you are drenched in blood. everything about you is staggered and it wasn't just because of you still carrying daz. you limp roughly, leaving your comrades to their imagination on what could have caused that, but they don't have a choice after you collapse into the snow.

**

"you should've left that boy behind," his voice pierces your ears despite his low tone. "it's not smart to risk your life for another who's deadweight."

you dig the heal of your palm into your eyes as you attempt to push on to listen to levi. you fail. your head throbs and your body still aches from days before.

"what can I say, I like a challenge," you scowl at his distasteful comment once you summon up enough energy to respond.

he resists to roll his eyes at your comeback, staring down at your slouched over figure, "I can't have my best solider dead."

it didn't take long for word to reach levi about his prized possession not only saving a fellow cadet, but also killing a titan--even if that titan was a small baby one.

"technically I'm not yours yet... according to you."

"smartass." he scoffs, "your compassion is admirable, but I'd appreciate it if you kept yourself subtle from here on out. got it?"

"yeah, whatever," your lack of energy and exhaustion was clear now to levi with low of an effort you were putting into being snarky with him. you expect him to say nothing in return but by the way he examines you, it's almost like there's more.

"don't make me regret my decision," he turns on his heal, "not a lot of people are lucky enough to have the talent that you have or the opportunities you'll be given. don't make me look like a fool.”

you watch him walk out without another word, his footfalls echoing in the empty hall outside the private room. you resist the urge to clench your fists too hard at the sound of his last words ringing inside of your head. they make your chest tighten at thought of just one more person to please, especially with it being someone's judgement you actually care for.

you didn't need this.

but you want it.

"fuck you, levi."

[dreaminrainbows]

Hello lovies, i hope the holidays treated you well! Here are the fics that got me through December! Always leave kudos and comments!

swallowed in the sea by  28goldensfics/@28goldens | [63k]

It's 1948. It's been years since Louis Tomlinson was discharged from his time as a war doctor; all memories of that time haunt him. To get away, he moved to Orkney, a small town in Scotland on the shoreside. The storms became his crutch and solitude his comfort, watching the rain roll in and the waves lap on the sand. Everything was okay, every day was the same. Until there's a knock on his door in the middle of a thunderstorm.

Can't get you off my mind (I won't even try)  by starryhaze/@starryhaze28 | [51k]

“Can we do the thing again?” Harry asks and Louis cocks his head to the side questioningly. “What thing?” He asks softly as Harry puts his empty plate to the side to pull his legs to his chest. “The happy thoughts thing,” he mumbles, resting his chin on his legs. He’s scared Louis doesn’t even know what he means, and feels embarrassed that he brought it up in the first place. “Of course.” Louis nods with a soft smile, putting his own plate to the side and Harry breathes out a sigh of relief. ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ Or the one where everything is just a little too much for Harry until he meets his new neighbour, Louis. An alpha with blue eyes and a soft smile, who always seems to know exactly what Harry needs.

My Heart Lies With You  by asphodelknox/ @iamasphodelknox | [31k]

“What did you hit me on the head for?” Louis said. He tried to frown, but it hurt too much. Plus it was hard to frown at someone taking care of him so tenderly. “I didn’t hit you on the head,” Harry said calmly, moving from Louis’s forehead to remove some bandages on his arm. “My friend Niall, the God of Death, hit you on the head.” “Well, why did Niall hit me on the head?” Louis asked. He noticed his lips hurt too, and felt a small gash on them. His arms were covered in scratches and cuts, and as he moved to sit up, he winced at a pain coming from his waist. “What the hell happened to me?” Harry sighed. “Niall… can get a bit… excited.” “Was he excited about hitting me on the head?” “No!” Harry said. “Niall just got away with himself.” “Does he do that often? Get away with himself, I mean?” Louis asked wryly. “Only when an idea gets stuck in his head that he can’t get out.” For being the God of Death, Niall has a habit of acting on ideas without thinking them through. It's probably why Harry ends up with an unexpected but entirely welcome visitor in his bed the day after a Mount Olympus party.

A Road To Something Better  by taggiecb/@taggiecb | [25k]

Louis Tomlinson, famous romance novelist, has just had the rug pulled out from under his feet when his boyfriend leaves him without notice. What's the most appropriate response to this? Move a thousand miles away and seclude himself in a tiny lake town, of course. But nothing is as he expects it to be in the very best way, especially not the handsome mayor of McAll, Idaho.

you're shooting stars from the barrel of your eyes  by devilinmybrain/ @thedevilinmybrain | [20k]

5 times Louis was gross hot and 1 time Harry was.

I Am the Blinking Light by dearmrsawyer/ @dearmrsawyer | [19k]

There is a legend of a lighthouse far out to sea. It can’t be found on any map, and those who do find it never return. They say a ghost haunts the lighthouse, and you can hear it calling out in loneliness on the ocean waves.

Reverse Psychology by heartbreakwthr | [17k]

“Every day I think I’m going to do it, and I just can’t. He’s too good looking. He’s too kind. He’s way out of my league. And at this point he probably thinks I’m the biggest jerk on the planet.” “I mean, probably,” Liam mumbles. Niall throws a pen at Liam’s face in Harry’s defense. - Or, the one where Louis Tomlinson is an elementary school teacher that has visited the hospital twice a week for the past two months, and is hopelessly out of Harry’s league; Harry Styles is a child psychologist who can’t bring muster up the courage to introduce himself to the biggest crush he’s ever had; and somehow they work together to create the best Christmas party the hospital’s ever seen.

Dancing Is Everyone's Style by WritingWithTheCatBella | [17k]

“My papa liked a boy with pretty blue eyes,” she starts, fiddling with the collar of his shirt, material making way for her soft fingers. “Uncle ZeZe said he is still in love with him,” she babbles, just as a man comes sprinting towards them, his expression a frantic kind with short brown curls bouncing wildly and his long coat flying behind him. The eyes are wide open, undeniably green in a shade no one would ever be able to describe, shining bright even in his current state of fear and oh- Harry. Harry Styles. Harry Fucking Styles.

my heart's against your chest, your lips pressed to my neck (i'm in love now) by DaddyAlphaLouisBabyOmegaHarry/ @bottomhaztoplou | [8k]

Five times Louis gives Harry a courting gift and one time Harry reciprocates.

When Everything’s Wrong (You Make it Right)  by SilverStuff50/@silverstuff50 | [7k]

Written for the Omega Harry Fest 2024 Prompt: There is something wrong with his nest. Harry’s rearranged it a thousand times tonight, even in his foggy state just on the edge of a drop. He’s always been able to take care of himself, able to perfect his nest so that it calms his omega down and keeps him away from that floaty feeling but right now fear is overtaking him as he gets closer and closer to the edge. The thing is, he knows what’s missing. But he can’t exactly go knock on his neighbour’s door and ask “Hey, I know you don’t know me but I’m about to drop and need that purple sweatshirt off of your back for my nest so I can stop it.” Or can he?

no faith left to lose by louieshalo/@louieshalo | [7k]

Louis shoves an album booklet — Harry’s album booklet — into Harry’s hands, folded open to a familiar page. “I need you to tell me that that goddamn song is not about me.” His voice cracks a little in his vehemence, and ice fills Harry’s veins as he glances down at the creased page. He doesn’t need to look closely to know what it is Louis is talking about — the title is printed plainly on the page, Second Chances, along with every incriminating lyric, line by line. It’s his most blatant offense off the entire album, probably; sickeningly indulgent and too obviously vulnerable to even defend himself against. The song is a surface-level dip into the fantasy world Harry toys with when the ache of loneliness gets to be too much in the middle of the night, the brief glimpse already toeing over the boundary he’d promised himself he’d set for his career. Most damning, though, is the tiny embossed dedication at the bottom of the page; “For who I’d be if I wasn’t afraid,” Louis recites, looking expectantly at Harry. “What the fuck does that mean? or, the one where they miss each other more than anything.

bite me by finelinegynandromorph/ @finelinegynandromorph | [6k]

harry’s just a single mum trying to enjoy his favorite holiday season. that is, until his hot new neighbor moves in completely alone with a newborn baby

Wonderland by orphan_account | [4k]

For the prompt: Harry the fairy takes up residence in Louis’ attic to hibernate through the cold months, but Louis ends up finding him whilst putting up the Christmas decorations. Queue grumpy Harry being woken up, but he can't go back to sleep once he's tried to hibernate, so he starts following Louis around, full of excitement and questions about his first Christmas.

Day Four: Gift by 28goldensfics/ @28goldens | [4k]

Christmas Countdown Day Four: Gift Harry and Louis are on a break. But, on December 23rd Harry finds a collection of gifts he set aside for Louis and decides to give them to him anyway.

You Don’t Have to Be Lonely Tonight by Neondiamond/ @neondiamond | [2k]

Louis is stuck working the Christmas day shift at the coffee shop. Harry is the sad stranger who comes in to spend the day there.

Do You See What I See  by allwaswell16/@allwaswell16 | [2k]

Harry may or may not be rescuing stray animals as an excuse to see the very hot local veterinarian. Or an absurd pet fic inspired by She Is Beauty We Are World Class

we got all night (we're going nowhere) by larryftnoctrl/ @the-larry-way | [1k]

Louis couldn’t believe his luck. Across the ocean from home, he’d found a fellow Brit, an attractive alpha who seemed to like alphas. And most importantly, he seemed to have a cheeky mouth that Louis would love to silence with his own mouth. Or his knot. He wasn’t picky.

(do you think it's easy) being of the jealous kind by larryftnoctrl/ @the-larry-way | [854]

Harry is mad and Louis isn't exactly sure why. (or Louis comes home smelling of another omega and Harry is near heat and jealous)

I wish you all a Happy New Year, hope it treats you good!

If you want to make a difference DO NOT forget to leave COMMENTS and KUDOS! You'll make someone's day or week or month!

[thebaldursmouthgazette]

I think it’s really weird that so many people are interpreting leaving the veil up as “keeping the status quo” and therefore bad.

First of all there are some “status quos” worth keeping. For example, medical personnel washing their hands to avoid infecting their patients is currently the status quo in most of the world. We don’t want to get rid of that, because then more people will die for absolutely no reason. Destruction for the sake of destruction is not a good approach, and just because something is currently the way the world works does not make it bad.

The veil was bad and destructive (to the status quo in fact! But also like, the world in general) when it went up, but that was several thousand years ago. And during those several thousand years, the world adapted to its presence. Mortal society and spirit society both adapted to its presence, and both would be destroyed by it coming down. And to what end? A world that is different, but no better, than it was before. There is no real benefit to the destruction of the modern world, the biggest benefit is that it will ease Solas’ conscience that he has undone something he regrets (and only at the cost of lives he doesn’t consider real or of consequence)

But secondly we aren’t keeping the status quo, we’re destroying it. You are all just focusing on the wrong status quo.

When speaking to Mythals fragment she speaks from the perspective of a god, conversing with foolish mortals who are “a thousand years from knowing the proper words” to describe what Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain are doing. If you tell her the people of Thedas do not need gods she calls you “a petulant child who complains that your room does not have enough pretty toys” and tells you “you’ve no idea how many monsters lurk outside the walls of the house your parents created to keep you safe”. She says something similar if you deny her godhood as an elf.

Elgar’nan names himself the “world’s creator” and claims that he was trying to restore glory, casting the mortals of Thedas once again as foolish children, incapable of making decisions for themselves, needing him to guide them so they could blossom and thrive.

Solas too, has acted since inquisition like he is far wiser and more knowledgeable than all the mortals he encounters. He does not even truly consider them people. While he does not claim the title of god himself, he certainly holds himself like one, and treats mortals as foolish children all the same. This is reflected in his first ever words to Rook: “you have no idea what you have done” in a disembodied voice, echoing with power around the fade prison. He knows best. All who oppose him just don’t have the capability to understand. They’re just mortals, you see.

Before the final battle Viago declares that “Thedas will be free”. It’s a riff on his “the crows rule Antiva and Treviso will be free” slogan, designed as a direct response to the daily announcement by the occupying antaam in Treviso that "the Antaam will rule Antiva, and Treviso will learn to kneel."

But free of what? What statement of freedom is being made on this day? It is freedom from the “gods”. Freedom from the machinations of people who have put themselves in a position of godhood, and declared that they should govern the world because the mortals are foolish children who do not understand enough to make their own decisions.

The veil never needed to come down. That is something Solas decided was necessary. And he ignored every mortal trying to convince him otherwise because he decided he knew better. These mortals did not need to be listened to. They are tiny children, incapable of understanding his actions and the reasons for them.

With the deaths of Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain, and the banishment of Solas, Thedas has declared itself to not need gods. The people of Thedas are not foolish children incapable of understanding. They’re not going to calmly place their head on the chopping block, trusting that it’s okay because Solas knows best and sure it looks to them like they’ll all die horribly, but they’re just naive children who do not understand as Solas does. They have said no, we do not need you. We do not want you. We do not think you are our betters. You are not gods, and you are certainly not our gods.

We’ve not maintained the status quo, we’ve demolished it. We’ve gone up to the people claiming godlike superiority and told them to go fuck themselves, they’re no better than us.

But I think some of you aren’t seeing this because you believed Solas when he told you he knew best.

[arttrashking]

About Emperor Wukong au... What other(Celestial, Demon and human(?) )think about Wukong as emperor?...like sure some didnt like him but to his credits his is a amazing king to his people and they respect him as king

Talk about his people..what happend to little sons in this au?? Wukong grandchilds 🥺....Dont they miss their grandpa

There are a few who don't mine rule- most demons were ecstatic to have someone raised in their origins being the new emperor and some more wary if they'd made an enemy of Wukong early on.

Most celestials and gods were very unsure and worried he'd form for them next as most of them had called for his death when he was still just a troublesome little monkey that ruined things in the heavens.

The only ones to come around faster were either anyone trying to gain his favor to avoid potential repercussions and whoever was smart enough to think about the situation more clearly.

Nezha came around somewhat- he still reserves that Wukong is dangerous and definitely needs an eye kept on him but the world hasn't caught on fire yet under his reign so he sees it as a win.

Iron Fan was one of the celestials to come around merely thanks to her marriage at first. Once she married DBK time with Wukong was inevitable since the brotherhood was still standing. And Wukong was the only one aside from Macaque to welcome her presence while the others still had opinions about their fellow demon marrying celestial they'd fought in their war.

And I'm assuming you mean the monkeys on flower fruit (if not I apologize I'm not familiar with the term of whoever you're referring to 😓) they do miss their king- as do the generals and other monkeys and demons of the mountain. Just as their king and warrior misses their home, the warrior more so as he tries to visit more and more to see the friends and family he left behind in his pursuit to be with his husband in this war and their new positions

The monkeys are happy to see at least one king, but they miss Wukong deeply since he doesn't visit as often and most of them aren't able to go to the celestial realm nor wish to out of some fear still lingering about it a certain god that burned their home down once.

They have gotten to meet the little prince they took in though, and MK loves the mountain when he's brought over, it's definitely far different from palace life.

[anon-e-miss]

Storm's End

(I've been playing sims again now that my mods are behaving. Decided on a fresh mer play and this is what you get)

“Are ya sure this is the right place, Ori?” Jazz asked as they stepped offer the small ferry.

“Only one Damaxus,” Punch replied. “This ain’t what I expected.”

Lilleth sang their songs from the trees as oilgulls squawked overhead. Fishing boats lined the docks, the crews call out to each other. Mechanisms boat the fresh cyberfish right off the boats, despite the drizzle. There was a roar of laughter and then another. The mood was happy and light. It was nothing like the docks in Polyhex. Even when the sea was willing give up a net of cyberfish, no one but the desperate would dare eat anything dragged up from the murky, sewage filled waters. The sea around Damaxus was anything but murky and there was no stink of waste. As far as the optics could see, the ocean surrounding Damaxus was clear turquoise, and apparently brimming with life. It was nothing like the stories Punch had told, a smugglers haven, a wretched slum. Damaxus, to Jazz’s optics, looked like paradise.

“When were ya last here?” Ricochet asked. “Twenty vorns?”

“Even in twenty vorns,” Punch said. “A turn around like this... I’d call it a miracle if I believed in such things.”

“Auntie Dipole’s ‘round here somewhere?” Jazz asked.

“Mhm,” Punch replied. “Maybe she can explain all this. Port was so rough, Lockdown even gave up on it for Primus’ sake.”

They walked past Dipole twice before the spotted the wirey femme among the crowds of mechanisms going from boat to boat, selling their bounty. She hopped down from the bridge of a pretty yacht, surprising all three Polyhexians. Punch let out a happy whoop and hugged his old friend. Dipole looked like a strong breeze could blow her over but she always had. At the same time, she did not look worn but determined but bright and alive. She yacht she was serving as cook on was docked in Damaxus for repairs, having run into trouble with pirates. Jazz blanched at the thought of her near death but his auntie seemed unfazed. She had ordered the captain to sail for Damaxus, even though he had wanted to sail for Polyhex, to sail under the safety of her canons. The yacht’s owner had sided with Dipole and as they had raced into the seas near the island, a great squall had come up and all but blown them into port where the pirates had crashed into the rocks and been scuttled.

“When I saw the red sky with dawn, I knew we’d be safe,” Dipole declared. “Red sky against this light-cycle, that’s why all the boats have come. A storm is coming.”

“Storms always comes to Damaxus,” Punch replied.

“It’s different now,” Dipole replied. “No hurricane has reached land in a decavorn, at least. Not a boat that’s minded the skies had been lost.”

“Seems too good to be true,” Punch declared, frowning.

“Sure, but I’m not going to turn up my olfactory ridge to a gift from the gods,” Dipole replied.

“Ya know a place where we can stay for a few ‘cycles while we get our bearings?” Jazz asked.

“Oh sure, there’s the inn,” Dipole said.

“Damaxus has an inn?” Punch asked, sounding dubious.

“Lovely Praxian family runs it,” Dipole explained. “They’ve got a little pub too. There’s no ordering anything, you eat whatever they have mind to serve that cycle. It’s always good.”

“Where’s the inn?” Jazz asked.

“Lockdown’s old perch,” Dipole replied. “At some point they bought the land and built their place right up from the beach. Its a pretty little place.”

“Surprised he ain’t come to take it back,” Jazz said.

“Lockdown hasn’t had much luck with Damaxus since the sea changed her spark,” Dipole replied. “If any of his ilk had given them trouble, I haven’t heard. I did hear Swerve got caught snooping in their wine cellar. Had him running scared, whatever they did.”

“H’uh,” Jazz murmured.

“H’uh indeed,” Punch replied.

“Oh, I see Tripwire, that’s their grandbitty, he’ll know if they have rooms,” Dipole exclaimed and she waved to a first tier youngling who was walking down the dock with a basket full of fish. “Tripwire! Overhear, Dearspark.”

“Hello Ms Dipole,” Tripwire greeted the femme with a dip of his doorwings. Though he had the telltale doorwings of a Praxian, his other features were distinctly Polyhexian, namely his audial horns and the shape of his mouth. He dipped his doorwings to Jazz and his kin. “Hello, Sirs.”

“Tripwire, do you by chance know if there are rooms in the inn available?” Dipole asked. “My friends have come from away.”

“Oh yes,” Tripwire said. “Two or three. It’s good you’ve come before the storm.”

“We got the last ferry o’ the orn,” Jazz declared. “Now we know why it’s the last.”

“You’ll be save on the island,” Tripwire assured them. “The rain’s going to pick up any klik, follow me to the inn.”

“I can carry that basket for ya,” Ricochet offered, miraculously coming out of his ennui for a moment.

“Thank you, Sir,” Tripwire said. “Grandgeni sent me to get more cyberfish. Lots of sailors in from the wet looking for a hot meal, even if they aren’t staying at the inn.”

“We ain’t sailors but I think he’s gonna have three more plates to fill,” Jazz declared.

“That’s okay,” Tripwire said. “We always have enough.”

“Fraggin’ skiff...” a sailor cursed. The mechling turned to look and the grizzled seafarer looked aghast.

“Language,” Tripwire scolded. The mech’s shipmates roared with laughter.

They walked on. Tripwire’s manners were formal. Sure, Damaxus was not turning out to be the dilapidated slums Ori remembered, it was still a fishing port and the mechling’s manners seemed a little out of place. Yet, the mechanisms working the boats seemed to enjoy him. His accent sounded Praxian to Jazz’s audio horns though he had encountered few of his frametype. Apart from the small clues in his appearance, there was no suggestion of Polyhexian heritage in his accent or formal manners. Perhaps his family had made their lives as sailors before settling on Damaxus, as much as Praxians were noted to keep to their own, Polyhexian spread far and wide in search of work and shelter. The already tough living condition of the Wastes had only been worsened by vorns’ long droughts and Straxus’ greed and corruption. Ori had not been expecting paradise in Damaxus, and clearly it was tripping him up but they could work with this. There were lots of boats going to and fro, what would one more be to the islanders?

“Grandori, do we still have rooms?” Tripwire dipped his doorwings as he greeted the mech cover the desk. “Ms Dipole’s friends came to visit.”

“We have two,” the elder Praxian replied. “One small private room and one with two berths.”

“We’ll take’em,” Jazz replied, offering the innkeeper shanix to pay for the rooms. “Ori’ll have the private one, Rico ‘n me’ll share the double.”

“Please enter your designations on the register,” the innkeeper said. “Tripwire, take the fish to your grandgenitor and then you are free to do as you will.”

“Okay, Grandori,” Tripwire replied. “Thank you, Sir for carrying the basket for me. Have a good stay, Sirs.”

“Great mechling,” Jazz said.

“He is,” the innkeeper replied. “Jazz, Ricochet and Punch. I am Camshaft, my conjunx managing the bar at the moment. Please allow me to show you to your rooms and then I will show you to the pub. I imagine you are hungry.”

“That’d be much appreciated,” Jazz replied. Thunder so loud it almost shook the inn roared over helm, the innkeeper did not flinch, his guests did.

“The inn has generators,” Camshaft assured them. “Our power has never gone out. Though Downshift prefers to serve a fresh catch, we have fuel stores enough to keep everyone well fuelled for a stellar-cycle.”

“Wow,” Ricochet said. “Ori could appreciate that sorta preparation.”

“I can,” Punch agreed.

“This way,” Camshaft guided them out into the rain. Their rooms were in an outbuilding, Ori’s on the bottom and Jazz and Ricochet’s on the top. A sitting room with a piano occupied part of the bottom floor. “If you need anything, at any joor, please ring the bell and one of us will be of assistance.”

“We won’t be any trouble,” Jazz assured him. Punch nodded.

The innkeeper left them to settle in. There was a set of washracks to share between the three of them, which was better than most of the inns they had found themselves in over the vorns, certainly better than the caves. They had little to unpack, all three of them kept their arms close at servo in their subspaces. They might have been planning to blend into the detritus to get their work done but Jazz could not complain. Their rooms were clean, comfortable and warm. It was a far better way to spend a dark-cycle or two as they made a new plan. Thunder boomed again and Jazz appreciated the room over his helm that much more. No one would hear them scheme, in any case, not with their rooms being in their outbuilding and the storm crashing outside.

“It could be worse,” Jazz insisted. “It’s a whole aft island. We can find a spot to to make our base ‘n go from there.”

“Mecha might snoop,” Punch countered.

“The scum that used to be here woulda too,” Jazz countered. “If only to see if our take was worth stealin’.”

“Mm,” Punch hummed with discontent.

“Rico?” Jazz asked his brother. Two helms were better than one against Punch.

“What?” Ricochet asked.

“Do ya got... any thoughts... bout anythin’?” Jazz asked, frustrated with his twin’s disinterest.

“No,” Ricochet replied, looking out into the storm. Jazz and Punch both stared at him a moment... No?

“Shoulda left ya wit yer genitors,” Punch crumbled. “Get yer helm in the game, Ricochet.”

“I guess we should eat,” Ricochet declared.

It might have been a mistake to bring Ricochet along. He had not been the same since he had tangled with Lockdown off the coast of Simfur. Though he had come out alive and maybe even the victor of the match, it had seemed to Jazz like the winds had been sucked from Ricochet and he had been living and working mostly on autopilot. He had not wanted to go back out to sea and maybe this was their punishment for strong arming him into coming. It had been Geni’s idea. Rumbler insisting that what Ricochet needed to find was out here, somewhere, where he had lost it. What that was, Geni had shrugged when Jazz had asked. His spark, his will, his drive, all Rumbler had been certain of was that Lockdown was to blame for Ricochet’s current state. If Jazz only knew what Lockdown had done, Jazz might have switched things up and gone after the bounty hunter to even the score. Although, it was Ricochet who had Lockdown’s servo in a jar in his berthroom, and not Lockdown.

“What’ll it be?” Downshift asked. The innkeeper’s conjunx looked like he could play bouncer if their business ever needed one. He had small ridges on his helm that could have be audio horns. His facial features were not quite classically Praxian, like his conjunx. Perhaps Tripwire had picked up some recessive code.”

“Three soups of the ‘cycle,” Jazz said. The pub was packed. Sailors and fishermecha say sea shanties off key. “Uh... things ever get outta servo?”

“They know better,” Downshift replied. “Which means their friends do and they keep themselves in line. No one wants me, or Primus forbid, Cam, breaking up a fight. They’d never live it down. I’d see it.”

What did that mean? Jazz wondered. He would have to talk to Swerve and see what exactly went on when he had that run in with the innkeepers. Before they set up roots here, they needed to know all the players. If the innkeepers had replaced Lockdown as unoffical warlords of Damaxus, they need to choose a different place to serve as their base. Ratchet needed supplies. His patients needed supplies. The Deadend needed fuel, really they needed everything. From Darkmount, Straxus’ clamp down was spreading. If this kept up, the uprising would be suffocated. Whatever Straxus claimed, he would not lift military law or end the special prosecutions when the last traces of “dissent” died off. The uprising as an organized whole had emerged from them.

Though the storm outside was still going strong, the thunder had moved on. With Ricochet and Ori both recharging, Jazz slipped out. He needed to calm his processor before he could hope to recharge. Jazz only wanted a walk, that was what he told himself, if he spotted anything that might be useful to their business in Damaxus, that would just be a welcome bonus. It was frigus in Damaxus but the storm brought rain and not snow. Like Polyhex, snow was a rarity if not a complete unknown to the island. It was cold enough but Jazz’s insulated armour could hold him through worse than this. He walked past a pretty pond set up in the courtyard of the inn. There was a light glowing from the shallow depths. A shrine to the spirits and a bath for the lilleth were on the edge. It was rather wild, something to Jazz added to its charms. He could smell the sea and the storm and he walked towards it. If Lockdown had made his base here, there might be smuggling coves nearby. Even if they were too close to the inn to be of use to them, there might be abandoned stores that could be.

“Oh, excuse me,” a voice that sounded like the sea itself spoke. Jazz looked up and saw a Praxian coming out of the trees, a nude Praxian.

“Oh no, excuse me,” Jazz said quickly. “I swear I wasn’t gawking or nothin’. I’m just out to clear my helm... I hope’m not trespassing.”

“The grounds are free for guests to visit,” the Praxian said. “I am Prowl.”

“Prowl, ‘m Jazz.”

“My procreators mentioned last klik guests from Polyhex,” Prowl declared. “You were fortunate to miss the storm. What brings you out in it now?”

“Just... restless,” Jazz replied. “I guess I interrupted... somethin’.”

“Oh, yes,” Prowl said. “It is tradition in Damaxus to shower in the rains. They are a blessing, after all. Would you like to join me?”

“Join you?”

They showered in the rain, but only for a moment. Prowl stepped close and invited Jazz to touch and he was not mech enough to deny the beauty. Almost ethereal, the curvy Praxian was something out of a fantasy. His exact frame shape was something Jazz had not seen. He had broad hips, thick thighs and a large, round aft. Under the cover of trees and greenery, Jazz crouched between them as he gave Prowl as taste. The Praxian moaned sweetly as Jazz lapped at his golden folds, cupping his heavy wells, teasing his stiff golden nozzles with his own servos. His waist was snatched, giving him a perfect hourglass all without armour. He could have made statues of Prima jealous. Jazz cupped the beauty’s wells as he filled him from behind, taking his time to ensure Prowl felt nothing but pleasure. Prowl’s moans were beautiful. Jazz twisted the Praxian’s nozzle as he rocked his hips against his delicious aft. He overloaded Prowl with his digits, glossa and spike before flooding the beauty’s belly with his spend.

“Recharge well, Jazz,” Prowl told him as they separated. Exhausted by his efforts, Jazz was sure he would.

[finifugue]

~600 word snippet of a WIP sequel to Death and Other Lies which may or may not come out in the near future, depending on how life goes. ily

They pound down the stairs, dodging guns and fists and knives as they go, and Lando catches a stray bullet, grazing across his arm as he pushes Ollie out of the way ‒ less dangerous, and more frustrating, because honestly the guy shooting it was slow as anything, so it’s really actually on Lando that they were in a position to be shot in the first place.

He swears a little under his breath and continues to herd Ollie down to the basement, to the sewerage grate he knows runs right into a complex system of tunnels. It's bolted shut, but Lando just attaches one of what Alex calls his ‘brand new state-of-the-art lockpicking devices’ to the centre of it. “Code?” “18-15-20-20-15-7-15,” Alex replies. “What?” “I said, 18‒” Lando huffs, tapping in the code impatiently. “I know what you said. I want to know why that’s the fucking code.” George snorts into the comm, making a truly disgusting noise. “’Cause Alex is a basic bisexual using a letter-number conversion cipher.” “Oh, die.” The thing beeps in a way which is never good for anyone standing nearby, a little red light blinking, and Lando yanks Ollie backwards by the arm, diving behind a large stone pillar before there’s a huge flash of light and the sound of an explosion. When he peeks back around, the grate is little more than a smouldering hole in the wall. He puts a hand up to his comm again. “Two-Three.” “Yes?” is Alex’s reply. “That’s not a lockpicking device. That’s a bomb.” “It opened the sewer, did it not?” Arthur asks. “My brother is coming, also.” “What?” Charles is meant to be securing the perimeter, not running through the sewers. If Charles is running through the sewers instead of securing the perimeter, Lando is going to fucking kill him. He says as much. Arthur snorts. “Other brother.” “Lorenzo’s on Earth again?” He was on one of Jupiter’s moons, last Lando checked, terraforming. Or, at least, he was telling the government he was terraforming. Lando’s pretty sure he’s money laundering up there. “Other other brother.” Arthur doesn’t have any more brothers. Unless he’s talking about ‒ The rapid pit-pat of four absurdly small legs echoes out from the hole in the wall, followed by a high-pitched, yappy bark, and Lando begins praying to gods long since murdered. Leo Leclerc. “Remind me to murder Charles when we get back,” Lando tells Ollie. “Fricking Charles and his fricking ninja dog.” Ollie tilts his head. “I think he’s cute.” He bends down, scritches Leo behind his big floppy ears, and Leo snuffles up to his hand, tail wagging like a thing that waggles at the speed of sound. “Will you show us the way out, buddy?” he asks in a baby voice, and when Leo yaps in response, he coos. “Good boy. Good doggie, yes, you’ll help us. Good boy.” While Ollie is distracted, Leo’s eyes turn towards the door they came through, where the sounds of guards are becoming ever-closer, ever-louder. His gaze burns with the wrath of a thousand suns. Leo Leclerc is a Dachshund, but he doesn’t let that stop him. His little black tapioca pearl eyes hold a fire last reflected in the eyes of Genghis Khan. He barks at a hundred and thirteen decibels, on last count. He has a distant ancestor who would routinely run away from his master and fight bears. Leo Leclerc spent his first three months of life in a Russian satellite, course set for Mars, and is the scariest, most eldritch, longest little tiny dog that has ever graced the planet. Charles adores him; Alex is in a constant state of war with him; Lando tolerates him, but only because when he said they were not keeping him, Charles pouted and him and asked him why Lando was allowed to keep Franco if Charles couldn’t keep Leo.

Happy new year wahoo

[leeny-leens]

I had the most Barty dream ever and I might write this so here is a rundown (gonna generalize it into a you/reader scenario but hush)

The end of the 7th year draws by, exam season barely survived and there isn't a single person that could've had you studying much less paying attention in classes for the remainder of the last 2 months. Instead, everyone is going to parties day and night, sneaking out of the grounds to visit nearby Muggle cities or even appearing to London to get a taste of freedom.

Usually, you would be with your group of friends; Evan, Barty and Regulus alongside Pandora and Dorcas if they weren't off with someone else. But that night, you and Barty had decided to sneak out alone, the thrill of leaving the castle behind as you embarked on an adventure shared between just the two of you sweeter than any nectar.

Said thrill somehow ends up with you injured and at a Muggle hospital, because who knew breaking into an abandoned asylum and then running from Muggle good was dangerous (spoiler alert: you both knew it but did it anyway).

Why a Muggle hospital? Because going to St.Mungo or god forbid, Madame Pomfrey was an actual death sentence that neither of you was too keen on receiving.

And so you're sitting in the waiting room at 2 am when your name is finally called and you're directed to a room by a nearby nurse who looks at you rather weirdly, but you pay it no mind because the last 2 hours in the hospital were nothing but a haze. Barty was the one to handle everything, from filling out the forms to talking to the nurses and when the doctor finally walks in, clipboard in hand scanning your documents she gives you a questioning look.

"So, according to your husband-"

"I beg your finest pardon?"

it's in that very moment when Barty decides to make his grand entrance, smiling apologetically at the doctor before sitting down beside you. He carefully avoids your injuries and presses a quick kiss to your cheek. What looks like an innocent display of affection to bystanders is a carefully concealed move to whisper in your ear. "They wouldn't let me fill out your stuff, play along. We're married at 18"

You don't know whether to laugh or cry because who the hell would come up with that sort of idea aside for your best friend? You decide to okay along anyway, what's there to lose?

The doctor continues talking, occasionally glancing at Barty as if to assess whether he's actually your husband or not and he's doing a phenomenal job at playing the role of a worried, doting husband.

She leaves soon after, telling you to wait with the nurse here in this room before you can go to the X-ray room. The nurse is older, perhaps in her 30s and you can tell she's suspicious of the two of you.

"If you don't mind me asking, how come you both are married so young? You're barley out of school, no?"

Before Barty can say anything, you give him a light squeeze and decide to put on your best bullshitting act in the history of your bullshitting career.

"Out of spite," you say dramatically, and the nurse turns around in confusion. "Out of spite?" she echoes back and you nod, expression serious and grim.

"You see, his father kept telling him we should break up so he can be with someone better suited for him, someone who's rich and smart and can support his legacy." it's not a lie, his father has indeed said something similar before but with much crasser words, and a significant amount of insults to Barty's own person. "And my parents? Well we don't even talk about those! They said they'd be marrying me off to put a stop to this nonsense love charade the moment I was out of school." Once more, it's only a half lie, your parents had threatened you with that, if only to break you and the boy up for they did not approve of him or his actions.

"Don't even get me started on the people around else, everyone was telling us it's destined to end anyway and so, we decided to get married in secret." Barty is nodding along, as if this was the truth written in scriptures. He's too used to your bullshitting acts by now, nothing could ever faze him even if you told the nurse you were both actually vampires, he'd find a way to make it believable.

She's given up pretending not to care by now, her full attention on you with hungry eyes that begged to know more.

You lean forward, conspicuously and continue in a lower voice "After I turned 18, we secretly got a date booked at the court so we could get married. We snuck out, bought a cheap wedding dress from a costume shop and a suit before getting the marriage officiated and signed. It's been like half a year now, and no one has found out yet."

Her eyes are basically bulging out of their sockets, and before she can ask anymore questions, a younger nurse walks in and tells you the X-ray room is ready. You follow her out of the room, leaving the stunned nurse alone as you and Barty hold your giggles back.

"You know, lying is very very bad" he whispers to you, your uninjured hand clutched gently in his. You don't dignify that statement with a response, only raise your eyebrows as you continue to walk behind the nurse. He leans in closer, his breath fanning over your skin "I think we should definitely make that little story true, just for the sake of future adventures and not having lied to a Muggle hospital."

[hotchtits]

im always talking about hotch so this should come as no surprise to you but lets talk about hotch and the metric fuckton of guilt he carries oh my GOD

it's not even a slow burn thing he's been dogging this shit around since season one

to name a few

seems to take every burn victim as a personal failure, even before he's properly invested in the case

FATHERS (the eco-activist who blew himself up, the MMA fighter with the sick son)

elle (and how he cleans the blood off her wall. how he accepts the blame even when really, it was gideon's call)

elle and how she left the BAU

spencer (the way he says "hankel??" when the detective reads off the name of the anonymous caller, knowing he's sent reid and jj into danger)

spencer and his addiction

kate joyner. i know he feels like he could have done more to save her, if only he'd been quicker, figured out the profile faster, if only it had been him instead.

every. single. foyet. victim. who he feels he's failed by not staying on the case, even when he was sent away.

haley and jack. enough said.

i truly think he feels guilty for killing foyet the way he did, and it might be why he "reconciles" with foyet in his dream

the ian doyle fiasco. the decision to fake emily's death and hide it from the team takes a physical toll on him. addtionally, the guilt he feels for roping JJ into it, and seeing the team start to fracture under the mistrust breaks his heart

jack again, when they have to go into WITSEC

there's so many more but this is what i can think of off the top of my head. he's got enough inside him to kill a small catholic child and i really dont know how he's still functioning

[fernpetals]

Can you please write Yandere Constantine with a female reader who can see dead people's souls who are trapped on earth? She has a normal life and is an ordinary office worker. Those souls are her friends and usually communicate with her because they need her help to go to the afterlife. Sometimes they also save her from danger. She is a very kind person and helps them to be free, but that is not her main job; she cannot fight demons like Constantine. One day he saw her and realised how unique she is and became obsessed with her. 

Thank you ❤️

Finally, I have managed to complete this request!

Hopefully, you will like it.

Masterlist

Yandere Constantine x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of child deaths, grieving and paranormal encounters, yandere thoughts, stalking and misuse of occult

The GIF is not mine, all credits to the owner.

Unedited Piece

You watch as a man follows after a woman as they exit the restaurant you are sitting in. Unlike the woman, though, the man is faded, almost grey. His left hand still forming from the grey mist around him. A ghost---the ghost of her late husband. You do not know the woman but with one glance at her and the ‘figure’ that manifested right beside you. You know that she is a grieving widow, and it is her grief that is keeping her husband from entering the spirit world wholly. He swings between the mortal and the spiritual plane.

Very few like yourself can see them—all seven planes present behind veils of dimensions. But you choose to stop on the third. Beyond that…You do not want to know. Entities will know that you know and do not wish your great-grandmother’s fate upon you. 

Your mother says that you are a splitting image of her, and you know that is true, though she demanded all her portraits and pictures if any, to be burnt after her death. You have her powers, she communicates with you, but only sometimes. You like to think she also protects you. Maybe she does.

The back of your neck prickles when you feel a pair of sharp, calculating eyes. As if summoned, your gaze matches deep, brown orbs staring at you, but you feel as if they have your soul under the microscope.

.

.

Constantine tilts his head. Curiosity. That is what brings him to this boring restaurant filled with oblivious people. In his defence, he did not mean to follow you around like a creep. But he couldn’t help himself— someone who shares his vision—almost. Something is different, but he has not been able to put a pin on it. So here he is now.

Constantine first saw you right outside Midnite’s, petting a puppy—well, that was a shapeshifter, thankfully harmless. But then, he saw your gaze turn sideways, and he followed your gaze. A few feet away, stood a lost soul searching for the light. Only a few people have the ‘sight’, and he could feel it in the air that night—something was different—not off, just…distinct.

There is no difference in energy, your aura is different—a pack of contrasts—strong but vulnerable, resilient but with a fragility in it, welcoming, warm but guarded. Well, that is good. Being guarded is good. Constantine looks away, fiddling with his pack of nicotine. After his close brush with death and liberation, he has been…different. At least now he seeks the meaning rather than cynically turning away from everything good, thinking it as a cruel trick of God.  Sipping on his coffee, he watches you leave. He does not follow you this time, he has all the confirmation he needs. You can see the dead, and he hopes that you know about the dangers that come with your power. 

—----

Although reluctantly, Constantine has come to believe in fate. He has fate to blame when he finds you at the hospital he visits for his ‘maintenance’, something he likes to call his regular follow-up check-ups regarding his miraculously healed lung cancer.

Constantine is surprised by this, but it is what it is—he feels you. He feels your presence before turning to his side, watching you as you enter the children’s ward. He finds himself moving towards the children’s ward before he realises it. But his steps cease just outside—from the see-through glass, he watches you stand in front of a crib. You hold the edges and close your eyes before your shoulders slump and you look at the window. Constantine follows your gaze—that is when he sees it—a luminous orb.

The baby is dead.

And you just helped its soul find the path to the light.

—---

He has not been actually following you. At least that is what he tells himself as he paces to seem casually walking a few feet behind. He makes a conscious effort not to really look at you, especially the back of your head, you would know—people like you and him always know. But it is almost midnight and you are walking through these isolated blocks in a city like LA and as far as he has deduced, you have no sense of self-preservation. He was wrong, you are not guarded, just curious and observant. He knows by now where your home is and he simply wants to make sure that you reach home safely.

That’s when he sees it.

Lurking in the shadows, drooling at your scent. Standing at a staggering nine feet, maybe even more, hunched with vacant eyes following your unsuspecting figure—gliding along. Constantine knows this…creature, this demon too well, it is ready to strike!

You are drowning. Not literally but that is what it feels like. A chance contact with a deceased little boy of eight has left you with this sinking feeling, such unbearable sadness that you cannot bring yourself to rise and build up your aura. You should be more careful. You have arrived at the conclusion that you are in need of a mentor. Someone who can show you—

.

.

It all happened so fast. One moment you are walking and the next, a deafening growl surrounds you, you feel a gust of wind with a foul smell that makes your stomach twist, but that is all pushed to the back as simultaneously, you are also tackled on the ground. You let out a startled scream as your elbow takes the hit. A man is shouting in another language with his back turned to you as he shields your body with his. It sounds familiar. It has been a while but you have no time to remember when you hear an unearthly screech from above.

But as you look up where the man is pointing a locket at, you see…nothing. But you feel it. Its vile energy overwhelms you and surrounds you, it’s like poison in your veins. You cannot even sense the man’s energy except for the fact that there is something beyond his body that is keeping you safe. 

And just as quickly as the ‘energy’ came upon you, it vanished.

The stillness that has followed leaves you stunned.

The man turns to you. He is pale and…well, you are surprised how you still cannot read his energy. You have to depend solely on your intuition when you take his hand he silently offers to help you stand up.

You have seen him before. He is the same man from the restaurant.

“If you decide to embrace your powers, you gotta keep yourself protected, not walk around with open arms like a Thanksgiving turkey.”

You blink at the looming man, meeting his condescending gaze.

“I—I tried?” That is all you can manage after the terrifying experience.

“Do you even understand what it was?”

“Uh…No?” It slips out of your mouth between laboured breaths.

—------

That is how you find yourself in a library with high ceilings, windows and an overall grand appearance. You know that you should be cautious but until now, you have not sensed anything ‘dangerous’ or ‘terrifying’. Melancholic, cynical yes, but you cannot read his aura entirely. Now you know the reason though.

John Constantine, as he calls himself, shares gifts similar to yours. But is far more experienced and has been dealing with the darker realm, the one you never felt ready to touch. You always wanted to avoid it actually, but tonight, you have come to realise that just because you turn away from the darkness, the darkness does not turn away from you.

Even though he has not explicitly offered to help you, his actions suggest so. You do not want to jump to conclusions but the heavy books you are carrying while he strolls between the shelves, adding even more to the increasing pile can be considered ‘help’. Though he might not be exactly a gentleman.

“These are delicate.” He scoffs when you end up dropping a few. “I’m sorry. They're heavy.”

He does not look particularly mad, just assesses you, picks up the books, takes some from you, making you sigh in relief and continues to walk.

“And that’s all. Start with reading these, we can discuss them when I have time and you will get started. But remember, the books are not always right.”

“So why are we reading them?”

That’s a dumb question, and the look he gives you reaffirms the fact.

“You, not me, I know these by heart. You, on the other hand, are one ignorant little thing, skipping around without any protection. How did they not notice until now?”

“Who are you exactly?” You end up responding with the question that has gripped you.

“You felt that thing in that alley?”

You can nod, feeling a chill cascade down your spine.

“Yeah, that and every other like it…I’m their worst nightmare.” He smirks, popping a gum into his mouth.

—--------------------

If someone said to Constantine that he had a crush on you, he would have scoffed. If it were five months ago. 

Five months into spending time with you helping you learn more about the world you are a part of without a choice, and helping you on your path to understanding and reaching your true potential, Constantine can’t say what he feels for you is a harmless, passing fancy. It’s more than a crush.

Even though it is not official, Constantine is your mentor, he chose you. Why? He cannot quite put a finger on it. But being intensely self-aware, he knows that he is a selfish asshole anyway. 

Why else would he keep some key knowledge from you? He wants you to depend on him, and run to him when things get a bit too murky. Those dirty waters are not for an angel like you. They are vile, you cannot handle them. But he can—he is vile too, perhaps. Why else would he struggle to keep his pants from tightening when you look at him with those wide, curious eyes? 

You have purposely kept yourself away from the darkness, but people like you and him cannot ignore it. It calls to you, it will chase you down until you are compelled to look right into its eyes and confront the horrible truth that the universe does not revolve around humans. In fact, humans are far more insignificant and vulnerable than they know. Toys. that’s how some entities see them. Toys to play with and twist around. Their powers are beyond a normal mind’s comprehension. Normal people cannot see through planes, dimensions, or the veil keeping the most dreadful entities at bay.

He likes to deceive himself with the argument that he only tracks you because you are still vulnerable, only starting out with some defence spells and methods. It’s a long, winding, rough path. He has put a protective spell on your apartment to keep you from getting tracked down. But pairing it with a binding spell was unnecessary. However, you do not need to know that. You are safer that way, always ending up returning to your home before midnight.

But a painfully conscious man like Constantine cannot deceive himself for long. There are moments of intense self-reflection when he questions if he has let his only chance to reserve a place in heaven slip away. And there are days when he can only dream of burying his nose into the curve of your neck, feeling his hands run down your bare skin and tangle his fingers with your hair. There are days when he dreams of touching your lips with his in the most reverent of all manners. There are moments when he wonders if worshipping you is more relevant. After all, you have been far kinder to him than any form of divinity.

But what if his redemption had always been you? What if finding you has been his destiny all along?

But there are times when he looks at you and wants to grab you, he wants to pick you up and never let you go. He wants to devour you—be in your soul, your mind, your heart. There are times when he wonders how sweet those thighs would look wrapped around his hips and thrown over his shoulders. He wonders how pretty those lips would look, wrapped around his manhood—your sweet gaze on him, lovely eyes looking up, ready to please as he taints the invisible halo around you with his twisted intentions. 

He will be poison blackening your deep, red, sweet blood.

Constantine knows that the right path would be to stop, to let you be. But for once he has come as close as feeling truly alive, without eyeing heaven. His heaven is right there, in your eyes, in your presence, maybe true heaven would be your velvet walls wrapped around his length, his fingers exploring that lovely mouth and sweet cunt.

He knows his thoughts and actions are leading straight to hell, but Constantine has learnt the tricks, loopholes, lies, truths, and many in-betweens.

Besides…

You are worth every sin.

He thinks to himself, hanging some herbs right above your bed. He would call it a ‘protective measure’. It is not completely a lie, but it will not protect you from his nightly visits to your dreams.

****

This might have a second part but for now, consider this an open-ended piece.

[eebie]

Grinds my teeth to dust…. i wish touch didnt have so many Implications. im just trying to survive out here

[dirt-str1der]

Quivering and hooking my fingers into my mouth and biting down hard on them sobbing because the anime

[hlysins]

Anonyme a demandé: Add momo or riruka please

☠ Unprompted messages for the mun // ALWAYS ACCEPTING

☠   ━━ So this has been in my ask box for about a week; I apologize to whoever sent this. Thank you for much for sending this, and while I will keep those muses in mind I am not sure if I am up to adding anyone else to the roaster at this juncture. I just recently added a f.ire f.orce muse. If you are specifically looking for bleach characters to interact with, I do write Retsu & Inoue!