#I need to send my own anon to the person I'm gifting

[morningstargirl666]

Hi I'm your gifter? (i think that is the right term) for the Autumn Exchange, and I just wanted to ask if you had a preference for a drabble or fan art, or shortish drabble with the horror vibes + fanart for it? sorry this is my first time doing this and I just wanted to clarify your preferred gift type.

thanks :)

Oh HI!!!! It's a pleasure to meet you, my beloved giftee!

As for my preference, whatever you find easiest but if you're a rare superhuman who can do fanart I'd love to see some! Show that talent off my friend, it's something to be proud of. So maybe the shortish drabble with the horror vibes + fanart? It doesn't have to be a full drabble with it, could just be a few lines of dialogue or a set of song lyrics, like you see gifsets/edits do sometimes. I honestly don't mind, whatever you find most inspired to do! To be gifted some original fanart would be a beautiful gift all on its own ✨❤️✨

[losersiren]

𝒜 𝒥𝑒𝒶𝓁𝑜𝓊𝓈 𝒴𝒶𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇𝑒!𝐿𝑜𝓇𝒹

”𝒶𝓈𝓀 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓁𝒹, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝐼'𝓁𝓁 𝑔𝒾𝓋𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒾𝓉 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓇𝓈 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒷𝑒𝓎𝑜𝓃𝒹 𝒶𝓈 𝒶𝒸𝒸𝑒𝓈𝓈���𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓈.” A continuation of my oc Ambrose, The lord N: Don't I have a gift for you, Anon! God, I had to rewrite this so many times, BUT I'M DONE!! Eat up! This is a long one! I had to watch so many gun videos (like two), which was unexpected... CW: Fem reader (she/her), acts and talks of violence (not towards the reader), implied murder, threats, guns, fluff (with the reader lol), mocking, power balance (?) Jealousy (or pettiness) Wc: 3.5k 

A shotgun sound echoes throughout the forest, followed by yet another dead Grey partridge and light crunches of leaves beneath stomping leather boots. 

“That bastard of a man! A prick! Son of a bitch! Son of an adventuress at that!” Ambrose stops in his tracks, reloading his sporting rifle with more gunpowder. Anger consumes his entire being. ”Did you hear what that bloody cocksucker Patrick said to her?” He hissed through his clenched teeth, grabbing the tiny 0.5 mm sphere lead bullet and layering it on top of some fabric. Shoving it inside the rifle barrel, “If what he said changed from the last few hundred times you’ve re-told the incident, then I have no utter clue.”  The younger male rolls his eyes, picking up the tenth bird Ambrose has slaughtered this afternoon. He ignores his younger cousin’s sarcastic quip and continues. “ ‘If you wish for a lovely evening, do not be a stranger; send me a letter, and I'll be by your side.’ I should’ve darkened his daylights when those vile words left his devil mouth.” He fixes his gun upright, pushing the first trigger, waiting for another prey to be a victim of his wrath. 

“Is she spoken for? Have you outwardly said you intend to court her?” His cousin questions, and Ambrose, in retaliation to his younger relative’s question….blushes like a young girl. Clenching his jaw, he answers, “No,” “Are you mad?!?” “I’ve attempted…but my nervousness has sabotaged me alas.” Astonished, his cousin continues, “Then you have no right to be jealous of her, you fool.” 

Bushes start rustling. Ambrose aims and squints instantly, with a pointer finger on the second trigger. A small grey rabbit appears, and immediately, it's killed straight through its skull; a soft smile appears on Ambrose’s face. “For her, I'll be whatever is needed.” 

“You are not sane.”

“Don’t be rude, Finch. This is love in its purest form. One day, you’ll understand.” The older male shrugs his shoulders.

“Now,” Ambrose reloads his gun, repeating his past actions, but this time, he looks straight into the other male’s eyes. “What do you know about Patrick Barton?” “I do not-” Ambrose cuts him off. “ Do not lie to me, young Finch…” His voice becomes lower, mocking, his aura more sinister. “You frequent more gentleman clubs than I; lord knows I hate the people and atmosphere of said clubs– Your mother grumbles enough to mine about the subject.” In goes the gunpowder: “You surround yourself with such…’ vast’ personalities from the elites to the ladies of the night.” The grey-eyed man reaches into his waistcoat for a lead bullet. “Yet you tell me– you don’t know about a mere Lord.” He scoffs.

Finch watches his older cousin's actions. Of course, he only asked to spend time with him for information regarding the apple of his eye’s new ‘suitor.’ The young man knows his current situation, the number of Grey partridge carcasses he holds because of Ambrose, and how far deep he’s in the forest, alone with his turbulent cousin. This was a warning, a show of sorts, that he could join these insignificant birds. He tries to swallow the heavy lump stuck in his throat. Ambrose was always the odd man; his smile never reached his eyes, his charm as real as a disloyal man’s ‘ I love you.’ His older cousin wasn’t above putting his hands on his own blood to get what he wanted– Ambrose’s father’s scar is evidence enough. 

“He partakes in Hell’s, frequents them more than gentleman’s clubs, a gambler of sorts. Loves it! He brags about the thrills of it and his winnings. Folks whisper that he’s a dishonourable shark. But it's not just hell establishments he attends; If there's someplace to gamble away his earnings, he's there,” Finch sputters his confession. 

“And Mills? Does he attend those as well?” “Yes,” The younger lad answers his senior instantly.

Ambrose just hums in return.

Just finishing his task, he aims for his cousin; he wears an inexpressive face, his grey eyes darkened and vacant, with no light, no soul.

“Wait, wait! I told you what you wanted!” Finch pleas. He could run, but in retrospect, how far can he go? Ambrose has a fucking rifle. He’s a good shot, no, an excellent shot. Hell! It’s borderline impossible how he always hits his targets, especially with how hard it is to aim for those things. Finch is panicking; his cousin has already pushed the first trigger. The nervous lad just accepts it; what else could he do? He closes his eyes, expecting his death to come quickly, then he hears a gunshot…

And he's fine…? Another Grey partridge falls from the sky right before him, its dead eye looking at the twenty-year-old.

Ambrose’s gun aims towards the sky. He lowers it. Then he casually approaches the stunned male, who lets out a staggered sigh, relieved he escaped death by a hair. Ambrose looks down at Finch, grabbing his shoulder and leaning in close. “Don’t ever fucking lie to me ever again, especially when the topic concerns my love.” Finch nods rapidly, shaking like a leaf. “Of course, sir, sorry.” Then, the older male releases his shoulders. “Good. Gift those birds to a peasant; perhaps they’ll make dinner with it, oh, and the rabbit, too. Say I have decided to help my community or something along those lines.” He looks at the sky. “I have a woman blessed by aphrodite to court.” His smile is bright, contrasting how he was a mere few seconds ago. He pats his younger cousin’s back and leaves the forest– The lifeless Grey partridge stares back at Finch, and he stares back.

Social calls…How dreadful. Worse is conversing with Lord Barton. He’s a bore, vulgar, and has an underlying inconsiderate, bitter personality. Having your mother as a chaperone does not make the situation any more bearable. 

 “Have you ever pondered about the future?” he inquires.

What kind of wet rag question is that? 

You put on a gentle smile. “Of course I have. Since I was a chit, I would read the local papers with my father-” He cuts you off “Children.” You look at him in confusion. “Pardon?”

The gentleman looks at you like you’re the biggest dunce in the country. “Children, how many children do you wish for? It would be sensible for us to have eight or ten,” “Hah…well…” you lift the tea cup to your mouth.

The man has no decorum…

After that fiasco, you decided to take a stroll downtown, and perhaps you’ll get a book from the local store, some new fabrics from a linen draper, or even some oils. Your pin money given to you by your parents could only cover one item... what a conundrum….

“Do tell me why the viscount’s only daughter is doing without a chaperone?” He leans against the brick wall, arms crossed, his smile beaming.

“Lord Howard, have you dropped your hunting hobby in exchange for stalking?” He chuckles. “Witty as always, but dare I disappoint? I was just strolling about my day and coincidentally saw you– Perhaps fate has decided for us to meet?” He pushes himself off the wall and offers his arm. Was it coincidence or fate…? No, it was none; it was all Ambrose, him asking your fellow lady peers about your whereabouts. Then, wandering near whatever local shops would possibly pique your interest. Memories play in his head, such as when you both were young and would rendezvous at the local forest. You would acquire many hobbies when you were younger– your mother said you would have a higher chance of obtaining a suitor with diverse skills. He would remember them and watch you in amazement when you talked about them. 

You made him feel human. You made him feel alive. His father was never a loving one; he gained the son he wanted, and his heir then wanted nothing more to do with him. The only attention Ambrose earned from The Earl was if he needed reprimanding. Every laugh that was too loud, every fork that he unitized improperly, every action, small or big, was scrutinized. His mother was a vacant husk of a woman at home and a social butterfly in the public eye; she watered herself down to being a wife and a mother. She was neither. He detested both of them and hated that damned empty feeling of his soul and heart that matched his vacated house; he felt nothing. His world was as grey as his eyes.

Till he met the colourful Viscount’s daughter– If he got kicked by a horse and lost his memory, he would still somehow remember the day you two met—the memory ingrained in his bones, body, and soul. On the way to your estate, the stately carriage was soundless and suffocating, as if the air was thick. Ambrose remembers how he bore his eyes into his obsidian-polished boots, wishing for the minutes to pass faster.  

You were a naive hoyden the first time you introduced yourself; you forgot to say his title and yours. Using his common name and giving him an oh-so-sweet genuine smile, he hadn’t ever seen such an authentic smile for him and only him—not for his parents nor his riches. Just him. Your parents scolded you while apologizing profusely for your ‘disrespect.’ Before his parents could utter something backhanded yet elegant, Ambrose smiled. He didn’t know he could do that. For the first time, the young boy speaks up; he feels this protectiveness over you. But, at the moment, Ambrose couldn't care less about his father's punishment that would soon come; the only thing that mattered was you, and soon he’d found out that it would always be you.

An airy laugh escapes you. “Do you wish for us to be caught in a scandal every time we meet?” He raises a faux, worried face and voice. “Me?!? As a future Earl, I am fulfilling my gentlemanly duties by escorting a fine young lady and keeping her from potential dangers. What’s so scandalous about that?” You take his arm. “You’re far from sane, My Lord.”

“For you, My lady? I hope so,” He says proudly with his chest out.

A comfortable silence lulls you as you look at how the sun hits the trees, people, and him. The sun's rays lighten his dark brown hair, blessing it with an orange hue and grey eyes, becoming Iridescent, more akin to a pearl.

“The latest on dit says Lord Barton has called for your company?” He inquires 

Your face grimaces at just the sound of his name. As much as you loathe the man, he is a viable suitor with good money and an excellent reputation, but a suitable suitor does not equate to a good man. “He’s…an interesting individual…” His jaw clenches. You’re not being open as he wants; you’re holding back…he hates that you might be hiding something. Not you per se but that damned rake Patrick. “He’s a rake,” he spits out, and you gaze at him. He’s uncharacteristically serious.

You smile. “He is,” Ambrose turns his head to you, returning your smile.

“Quite the feat to dissect the woman you are trying to woo as well.” The gentleman’s eyebrows furrow. “He did not,” you huff. “Oh, he did!” Ambrose stops in his tracks and mummers your name softly. “If you would only permit it, Allow me to court you,” You raise an eyebrow at the sudden question, “Pardon?” He continues, “That bastard doesn’t deserve you.” “And you do?” he chuckles. “No, but I’ll do everything you ask me to, then maybe one day I'll deserve you; you wish for dresses? I'll buy you the tailor and store. Money is far from an issue. Heavens, ask for the world, and I'll give you it with the stars and beyond as accessories.” He turns his whole body to you, his hands finding yours, his leather gloves causing a barrier between your soft ones.

He hates that 

“Ambrose…” 

“Please…only if you’ll allow me.”  The love-sick man entreated “But what about the other more suitable ladies? I’ve heard-” “I do not care for them,” He interrupts you. “Every second I was apart, I only longed for you. The only reason I kept my studies up was to be the perfect suitor equal to you.” He caresses your knuckles. The butterflies in your stomach flutter more after each word spills out of his mouth. Your relationship with Ambrose was vague at most. You couldn’t put your finger on it; every time you were in his presence, you had this comfort no one else could recreate. You were hesitant to put a label onto it, and maybe you feel this way because he was the only man you truly felt you could be yourself with. 

“If you wish to court me, you must’ve thought to ask my father for permission rather than myself.” 

“I could’ve,” He pauses, “But I'd rather ask you first; I need your permission. I am not marrying your father, am I? I need to hear you wish for me as much as I yearn for you,”  

You amuse the thought. Ambrose is a prick at times, his teasing relentless, but despite that, he’s charming, sincere, soothing, and protective. He’s a good man, indeed. 

“I’ll bite, My lord.” “Please do.” He smirked, masking his nervousness.

You slap his hand lightly, reprimanding him, “Let me continue, you brute…I’ll allow you to court me.” “Truly?” he exclaims, Astonished. “Truly,” You nod meekly. In a haste, he kisses your bare hands, each knuckle, each finger. “I’ve been blessed indeed,” his voice is as blissful as a child receiving a sugary dessert. You yank your hands away from him, flushed from his actions. “You dog, we are in the public,” you scold him. “I shall make it up to you in our next outing; I vow,” You swear you could see a wagging tale behind him. You sigh. 

The day went on, and by sundown, Ambrose had hired a post-chaise for the both of you despite your protests of you living just around the corner. He claimed he had ‘Earl-like duties to attend to’ and you were just on the route back either way. As a gentleman should, he dropped you off promptly; as he left in the carriage, away from your estate, you softly ran your fingers over your knuckles. A smile adorns your face. “What an oaf,” you whisper to yourself. A fond grin decorates Ambrose’s face, a few giggles even, but as euphoric this day was, he did have business to attend to. A certain lord has decided to make his lacklustre presence known, and Ambrose couldn’t celebrate until he exterminated said pest.

Gentleman’s clubs were boisterous, loud, and untrustworthy. The men here are just as vile as the feed that is fed to pigs. The soon-to-be-Earl disliked them and only engaged in them because he needed to build his reputation. He may be judgemental, but he isn’t an idiot. Others may regard him as a friend, but for him, he could care less for it. The males around him start to recognize Ambrose, yelling pleasantries, which he would return and shut down politely or…as politely as he could in his eyes. A booming voice reverberates against the wall of the finely furnished building, only belonging to the one and only Patrick Barton. Unconsciously, a scowl appears on the young man’s face. Ambrose knew more than he led on about Patrick; he heard whispers of Barton’s hobby in the mills, rigging the boxing matches that were bid on by elites and peasants alike. Word says he would pay one of the desperate participants to lose on purpose– word is bound to escape one day or another. It is not a sustainable income source. Yet another reason Lord Barton is not fit for you.

Ambrose walks towards the table where the bastard sits, narrowing his eyes.

Lord Barton and his goons recognize the lord approaching them. Barton speaks first: “Lord Howard! Is it a blue moon? What on earth might’ve convinced you to come out of that dreadful estate?” He laughs, arranging some snuff onto the mahogany to snort. “Perhaps it’s because you plan on courting his woman.” a nameless male inquires. “No, could it be? I don’t blame you, Ambrose; she is a fine woman, isn’t she? She is just in need of training,” another male said, joining in. “So does every woman in this country.” Another chuckle escapes the vulgar lord. 

Ambrose’s leather gloves wrinkle. His fist clenched to prevent him from beating the man in front of him into a pummel. He has a plan, the grey-eyed man repeats in his head. Then he forces a smile on his face. “On the contrary, I've decided to pick up a new gambling hobby; why not ask the man of the hour himself for advice? Or even a game or two.” Ambrose signals a servant and orders drinks for the table. The man in question gets up, slapping Ambrose on his back. “Atta boy, never let a woman come between men; let bygones be bygones, what a joyance plan! Come, come.” The night continues, and Patrick is as drunk as the rest of the men in the club; Ambrose, the gentleman he is, offers him to join his carriage in his words. 'Let’s start this newfound friendship off with a bang.' Cold water hits the once-drunken lord, and he awakens, gasping for air on the cold textured ground. ‘Where am I?’ he thinks, discombobulated, looking around and grasping his situation. The dark forest surrounds him, almost engulfing him; the trees blow along with the wind, and the creatures of the night rustle in the background. A voice comes from the shadows, luring him away from his racing thoughts, “Gunpowder is such a messy substance, but did you know a man invented a gun powered by air? What a time to be alive! How revolutionary!” Patrick looks at the man, most of his body consumed by the darkness of nightfall, the moon only making his grey eyes visible. 

“Ambrose, what the utter fuck-” “Don’t interrupt.” He says sternly. “As I was saying, a gun powered by air,” He continues. “A watchmaker of all things invented it; how preposterous! He eliminated gunpowder entirely and named this new gun  Windbüchse or, I know you only know English, so pardon me, I'll translate, wind gun.”  

“It’s far better than my hunting rifle; the tedious thing is quite a hassle to reload. But this wind gun can load much faster, 20 rounds a minute! Compared to the other, it is much quieter. It's a shame its range is far smaller.” The man standing pouts. “But all is well. The Austrian army decided to order thousands of supplies, and it’s fortunate I even got my hands on one.” Patrick squints, trying to distinguish Ambrose, and it finally sets in. In a forest he doesn’t know of, with a man who has a gun in his hand in the dead of night. Not just any man but a Lord known for his physical fitness and hunting expertise since he was a just a lad. 

Fuck

“If this is about your lady, Ambrose, you can have her! There’s no need to do this!” Patrick tries to reason with the love-sick lord, yet it's no use. The other man scoffs, “I’ve always detested men like you, greedy, hypocritical. Ready to jump boat when things get too tough for your liking– where is your backbone? Where is your spine? Your pride?” Ambrose circles the pain-filled man on the ground. “You never deserved to even be in her presence; you aren’t even entitled to breathe the same air as her,” He then spontaneously kicks Patrick's ribs, causing him to curl up on a ball, yelping. Ambrose looks down at the pathetic man. “But, I am a fair man, unlike you, so I'll give you a chance to run while I read you the note I have written in your writing announcing your hasty departure after news of your rigging in the mills comes to light, your writing was not hard to duplicate as well; who knew mother’s penmanship lessons would come in handy,” He chuckles.

 “Now run, monkey, while you still can.” He sets the trigger and then turns the spindle of his gun clockwise till a clicking sound can be heard, indicating he doesn’t need to turn it anymore. Ambrose opens the barrel, puts in an 8.5 mm bullet, and then shuts it. 

“I’m sure we can talk this out reasonably, money! I have money! Have it all; buy your woman something nice-” Patrick feels his thigh get warmer at first rather than the pulsing pain of a bullet shooting through his thigh that would soon follow shortly after. He screams.“To think you have the naivety to think I couldn’t fund my lover for generations on end,”

Ambrose rolls his eyes. “Scream louder; perhaps you’ll awaken a bear to save you,” yet again, he starts reloading his wind gun, faster at that, “I am not one to repeat himself nor give mercy. Run, rabbit.”

With adrenaline coursing through his body, Patrick runs…or well, attempts to. 

 Ambrose reaches into his waistcoat for the forged letter, clearing his voice to read it while his other hand holds his gun. Though his attention should be on the task at hand, he is utterly distracted by possible outing plans you would adore. Shall he go canoeing with you? Or a picnic? A carriage ride underneath the newly blooming cherry blossoms? Why not all three?  

Oh. how he longs to see you again.

Notes: I'm gonna be so honest, romance is the hardest thing to write for me. It's probably noticeable, forgive me (⇀‸↼‶) I had to do some research for this one, but it was a fun process learning more about Regency lingo and gun history. For my next full fic. I was thinking of a yandere! Cannibalistic 50's housewife, but idk….hehe…if you have any ideas send them to my inbox!! I'd like to say again THANK YOU FOR THE SUPPORT!!! Reading all your kind words makes my little shy heart soar (o^ ^o) see you soon, my little guppies!! 

[bibbityboppitybillyharvgrove]

All Thanks to You - T.Nott

Summary - At first, Theo found her gifts sweet and kind but the longer they went on the more they annoyed him. He had the false assumption that she was chasing after his money and status but he was very wrong. He didn't realize how wrong he was until he overhears her sticking up for him in library.

Pairings - Theo Nott x Fem!Reader

Warnings - Use of Y/N, female reader, profanity, stress

Author's Note - I'm getting through all of my requests slowly but surely, this will probably be my first and last post of the day. I'll try my best to keep banging these out but unfortunately today was my last day of spring break and my vacation from work. Thank you for being patient!

Based off the request by an anon

Expect delays in my posting! My semester has started and I am taking 4 classes! Please be patient with me!

My requests are open!

my masterlist

Feedback is welcomed and encouraged!

Enjoy!

It was almost disgustingly obvious how much she liked Theo, except to the boy himself. It had taken him ages to figure it all out. He thought it was weird at first, he was always getting baked treats, a seat saved, books that he ended up loving and notes sent to him. Then, it started to annoy him, he thought that she was just trying to get to him because of his status and money. That of course wasn’t her intention but he didn’t figure that one out until he overheard a conversation, one revolving around him and all of his flaws and untrue rumors.

He was about to jump in himself until the sweet voice of the girl sending him all of these good things chimed in. 

“That’s not true at all. Theo is so kind and sweet. He cares so much about his friends and only acts cold to people like you because you believe and spread all of these bullshit lies. He’s not rude, he’s not unnerving, he especially isn’t ugly or gross to girls. He’s sweet and kind and loving and a great person and if you can’t see that, then don’t consider me your friend anymore,” She ranted before packing up her books and walking away, not expecting to bump into the boy himself. “Oh shit, I’m sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going, I’ll get out of your way.”

“Wait,” He pleaded, having every expectation of her walking away but she stopped in her tracks and turned to face him, “Thank you for sticking up for me. I know I said your gifts were annoying but I don’t really think that. I honestly thought you were after me for money or to boost your status or something, I shouldn’t have assumed that.”

“No, you shouldn’t have. You’re a good person Theo. I’d love to talk more but I really have to go study for the potions exam,” She told him.

“Study with me, I have an O in the class, I can help you.” The smile on her face brightened the room, making his heart skip a beat, a smile finding its way onto his own lips.

“Okay! I know the best spot in the library,” She chirped, grabbing his hand and leading him to the top floor into a quiet corner. The two of them studied together for nearly an hour before she spoke again, “How in the fuck do you make a draught of the living dead again? I can’t remember anything right now, my brain is fried,” She groaned, resting her forehead on crossed arms.

“You need a break, love. Let’s go to the kitchen and get some food from the house elves,” Theo offered.

“Won’t we get in trouble?”

“No, I’m friends with the prefects on duty, let’s go before they change shifts.”

The whole way down to the kitchen, the two were holding hands, neither of them had even noticed until Draco stopped them in the stairwell leading down to their destination. “What do we have here? The infamous Theodore Nott holding hands with his admirer?”

“Oh shove off, we need you to cover the kitchen while we get food,” Theo told his friend, still holding onto her hand even though they were caught.

“What’s in it for me?” Draco asked.

Before Theo could open his mouth, Y/N answered, “Pumpkin pasties, green apples and cauldron cakes. I see you eating those a lot so I assume you like them?”

“You assume correctly, fine, let’s go lovebirds.”

Holding up her end of the promise, she got Draco his favorite sweets, snacking with the two Slytherin boys. The blond boy had taken a liking to her, finding her genuine, funny and observational. The bond between Theo and Y/N had grown and only got stronger by the day. It was no surprise to any of their friends when they started dating not long after studying together. 

They continued to have study dates until the day of the Potions exam. She was extremely nervous and Theo was nervous for her. They didn’t get to see each other until dinner that day. Taking her usual spot next to Theo at the Slytherin table, casually sliding a paper to him. He furrowed his eyebrows before opening the paper, the red ink stared him right in the face.

“You got an O?! Bellissima, that's amazing! I’m so proud of you!” Theo exclaimed as he hugged her tightly, placing kisses on her head.

“All thanks to you, handsome,” She smiled at him.

Theo kissed her deeply on her lips causing groans and gags around them. Neither of them having a care in the world other than her O.

[impactedfates]

Hi hi I'm feeling so cruel right now >:]

So uuuh HCs for DH[IL], Jingyuan, Blade and Welt reacts how does their child [reader] dies... Like imagine how reader dies is like how the Genshin Playable characters die [they dusted away]

Please feed me a n gst

—🫶🏻 Anon

★ A/N: The way the reader dies reminds me of how one of my ocs species dies lmao. Hopefully this is up your ally :))

☆ Genre/Trope: Platonic + Familial + Angst

★ Format: Bullet Pointed HeadCannons (It kinda turned into a mini story I think-)

☆ Warnings: Mentions of Death (Readers)

★ Extra: Adopted reader in all // Reader is under 12 for Dan Fengs, and in their teens for the rest // Giving Jing Yuan more of a sad life/hj // Wrote this in WellBeing class lmao // Characters may be OOC

Dan Feng as a High Elder doesn’t always have the time to really see you. Sure when he first adopted you he did spend a good chunk of his time with you but eventually his duties caught up.

He appointed someone to look after you. Someone that you knew and that he knew. Someone trustworthy.

So when he came back to his home early one day, the house dead silent. He grew worried. He called out to the person, to you. But there was no response.

He walked to your room, perhaps the both of you fell asleep. Wouldn’t be the first time.

But all he could witness was dust covering your room. And the man no where to be seen.

He knew instantly where that dust came from, he was quick to search for him. Found him hiding thinking he could get away, unaware that Dan Feng would be home early, unaware Dan Feng would catch him.

The man he had trusted to protect you, was the same man who ended the life you should’ve continued to have.

Dan Feng was quick to throw the man in the Shackling Prison, praying to whatever Aeon that can hear him that he gets what he deserves.

He collected as much of the dust that was still in his house, the last thing that he had of you. And carefully placed them in a jar.

Many question the High Elder why he holds a jar of dust so dearly to him, and all those times he refuses to answer. Not wanting to break down in front of the other Vidyadharas.

It was only a mission, a mission he sent you and Yanqing on. He had thought there were only a few Mara struck soldiers that had to be defeated.

He had wondered why Yanqing slowly entered the Seat of Divine Foresight without you. He had wondered why Yanqing was breathing rapidly and on the verge of tears.

Jing Yuan comforted Yanqing before asking about your whereabouts. Perhaps you were getting snacks after a successful mission? Yanqing could only try to explain in a shaky voice, clearly startled and upset.

But why would he be upset? You were his adopted sibling and was usually so kind to him. You wouldn’t have done anything to hurt him?

Yanqing tried his best to explain, stuttering over his words and needing to take a few deep breaths, the General listened carefully.

…Ambush? Well…Jing Yuan supposed he made an error in that. He only thought there were a few. Wow, if you and Yanqing didn’t know about that then you could’ve been caught off guard and…

Oh!

Oh…

Jing Yuan quickly connected the dots, he slowly held Yanqing closer, witnessing his own sibling fall to the hands of the Mara struck then be faced with dealing with the remaining enemies…he couldn’t imagine the stress.

A ceremony was held in your honour. Your dust already gone away like the wind so your memories will follow as he sends multiple starsciff at with gifts.

But he’ll always remember, he’ll remember the regret he felt that he couldn’t do anything nor could he have seen that an ambush would occur.

He wished he could’ve done something.

Are you dumb or something??

Blade could’ve taken that hit. Why’d you have to take it!?

He would’ve been fine. He wouldn’t been okay, a relief would’ve washed over him even though he knew he’d survive.

So then why did you have to take the hit that was meant for him, and leave him in a state of rage?

He quickly disposed of the pests that caused your demise, before trying to check on you. But all he could do was watch as your body dusts away.

He tried his best to grab any dust he could but most went with the wind. All he could do was stand there questioning why you would do that.

He said he’d protect you. Everyone else in the Stellaron Hunters were busy so he had to take you with him when he did his part. Yet it ended with you gone.

There was a small ceremony for your disappearance from the earth. Elio as much as he may not want too, he continued sending people on missions however allowed Blade to opt out of them he could properly mourn.

Blade still wonders why you decided to save him when he would’ve been fine, he wonders if he’d be able to save you if he noticed the enemy creepy behind him.

It was just a small argument. Welt felt bad but allowed you to storm off. You’d return eventually anyways. You’d return once dinner was ready back at the express, you knew what time that was.

But you never did return did you? Welt had thought long and hard and was ready to apologise for his words yet you weren’t back yet? Did you get dinner then go to your room?

He went to check, your room was the exact same you left it.

Did…anyone see you come back? He questioned the members of the express. None have seen you.

Finally he grabbed his coat and cane and went to look for you. Went in the direction you went and searched. As he walked his foot stepped in something. Looking down confused, his eyes widened.

Golden Dust. Dust that he knew belonged to you. Dust that told him you were gone.

And he wasn’t able to tell you he was sorry.

Welt is silent as he walks back, he let the wind take your dust elsewhere. A place he hopes you’d be happy in.

He was quiet but able to tell the express what happened. Each of them holding a small funeral for you. They kept your room intact, filled with things you loved before locking it. That room will no longer be filled with warmth but will soon grow cold.

Welt drew a picture of you, keeping it safe with him. And despite how it may seem that eventually he was over your death. He could never be.

Not until he was able to apologise for the argument.

But that won’t happen anytime soon now will it?

This was actually rlly fun to write!! Especially in well-being haha. This was meant to be posted yesterday but something came up so here it is now haha.

Might've missed some warnings, so as always. Please inform me if I did.

[thezombieprostitute]

💐Zombie's Bouquet Event💐

I'm still not quite sure how it happened but I'm officially over 500 followers. At the same time, I'm on staycation this week, so I actually have time to do a little celebration event.

I want to thank @the-slumberparty for inspiring this. I learned, from their flower event, that really enjoy writing personalized drabbles for people.

So how about I write personalized drabbles for you?

Taking a very simplified version of "How to Build a Bouquet", I've set up a form with the following items:

Focal Flowers: Your character of choice

Secondary Flowers: What trope would you like?

Foliage: The AU/Setting for your bouquet/drabble

Ribbon: Mood (fluff, dark, etc.)

Now, while the form will have some set options, I did make sure to allow for "Other". I will do my best to fulfill requests, but I make no promises.

If you feel a little weird or awkward about requesting a bouquet for yourself, please don't worry! It's perfectly fine to treat yourself to some flowers! You can also submit the request for someone else. The first question on the form is "Who will this be addressed to". Just give me the Username and they will be gifted a bouquet!

While the plan is to send these bouquets via Asks, because this is a side blog, I can only send these via Anon asks. If your blog does not accept Anon asks, I'll post it on my own blog but make sure to tag you (I hope that's okay).

Please let me know if you need more information.

[jackhues]

(mockingbird au!) mother's day - platonic!hughes

request: okay hear me out for your mockingbird au maybe it’s mother’s day or father’s day and un buys a gift of either jim or ellen and a little card with something like to the second mom i always wanted 🥺🫶🏼

requested by: anon : )

notes: continue sending in requests for the au! check out the request rules below! thanks for requesting <3

likes are good, reblogs are better <3

mockingbird! au request rules!

tags: @woodruff-edwards , @austinbutlerscaresme , @svechnikovvv ,  @hockeyboysarehot , @emptyflowerpots , @mysticaldonkey ,  @lam-ila ,  @babydollmarauders , @starjoyyy , @kjohnson-91  , @gavinbrindley, @hischierdevils , @jackhughesily , @panarin10 , @equallyshaw , @power2myheart , @lynnismypseudonym , @beccaiscold , @akengii , @nowandkei , @cinnamonpancakes ,  @mitchymainer ,  @lifeofpriya , @marshmallow-babe, @hughesx3 , @emsully2002  ,  @starsandhughes , @huggy-hischier73 ,  @doglady5678 , @thatoneblog , @exonct07 @hughesmedicine , @qwanelledingele , @mindless-rock , @ireadthensuetheauthors , @huggy-hischier94, @slaythehousedownboots , @diary-of-jj

join my taglist!

gif not mine!

"ooh, this one's cute," you held up a card.

jack looked up from the corny jokes he was reading on the other cards, looking through the one you picked out.

the two of you were doing mother's day card shopping for ellen, but couldn't decide on one card. you'd already bought a cute gift from the both of you, but the card was one place you and jack couldn't agree.

"i just think she'll like the jokes more," jack said, holding up his corny joke-filled card.

"it's ellen, not jim," you reminded him.

"but this one's so funny," he tried again, reading one of the jokes and laughing like a four year old.

"let's just get both cards," you decided, placing them in the shopping cart. "one from each of us. that way, we can write her a personalized message."

"i like that idea," jack smiled. "why didn't i think of it?"

you laughed, "that's something i'd rather not get into right now. c'mon. we still need to get wrapping paper."

--

you tapped the pen against your chin thoughtfully, stumped as to how to write the card. sure, you'd written cards before, but never one for ellen.

this was your first mother's day being jack's girlfriend, and in such a short amount of time, ellen had already become more of a mom to you than your own mother.

she was supportive and kind, cheering you on whenever you needed her.

she was caring and sweet, always ready to be your shoulder to cry on if needed.

she was always there for you, taking you in as if you were her own child.

she was the one who showed you what a mother's love should look like.

how could you ever convey all that in a single card?

you stared at the blank page, promising yourself you'd try.

--

"where's my phone?" you moved the couch pillows, trying to find it.

jack patted the ground, helping you in your search. your ringtone had been blaring for a while, but you had no idea where it was.

"oh, here it is!" jack pulled it out from under his coffee table triumphantly. "look, it's my mom!"

"hurry and answer it," you told him. "i don't want her to hang up."

he fumbled for a second, before answering the facetime message. "hi mom!"

"hi jackie," ellen waved, sniffling slightly. "where's y/n? i want to see her."

"i'm right here, ellen," you said, taking the phone from jack and waving to his mom. her eyes were watery, and she kept sniffling on the facetime. "what's wrong? are you crying?"

jack looked up at that, noticing his mom's teary eyes and shaky voice.

"it's a good kind of crying, i promise," she laughed a little. "your card, it was so beautiful. i just, i loved it so much. the way you--" she shook her head, wiping her eyes, "i just loved it, y/n. and you should know, i'm glad you and jack met. i'm glad i was able to show you all of that, to be all of that for you. because i promise, you mean just as much to me."

"now you're gonna make me cry," you laughed to try and stop the tears.

ellen laughed as well, the two of you doing your best to keep the tears at bay. it was a special moment for you two, being able to share how important you were to each other.

at least until jack continued, "i'm so fucking confused right now."

[strawbeerossi]

I seen that you write angst and I have an idea to share with you because of some personal things that I went through with my own family.

Do you think you can write something about fem!reader and Spencer finding out that one of their children has leukemia? Maybe with death involved to show how intricate this situation can affect families? I know it’s a very loaded topic so I completely understand if you don’t wanna do it but I think you’d master the topic beautifully based off of your angst writing. ❤️

I hope you’re doing alright today, Tay

First off, I’m so sorry for your loss, lovebug. I hope I do this justice and thank you for trusting me with this topic. My DMs are open if you ever need to talk. 🩵

And I'm good today, thank you, honey.

Vilomah: Bereaved Parents

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

Description: After their son succumbs to his illness, the Reid parents have to navigate the grieving process together along with the team who are there to help.

Content Warning: Child death, leukemia, details about a hospital stay, extreme grief after loss, a child’s funeral, parental grief, mentions struggles with eating, spousal argument, lots of tears, descriptions of feeling empty and depression, the team is there for the Reids, spousal comfort, hurt/comfort.

Word Count: 3.3K

Navigation || Masterlist || Join My Taglist || Request

I cried like a baby writing this. I hope I captured what you were looking for anon.

“Memories saturate my heart and the story of you spills from my eyes.” – Grace Andren

There were many horrors that Spencer faced in his line of work; murderers, rapists, cannibals, the lot of it. He was also faced with grief more often than not, losing Maeve and Gideon being the two most notable times where he was forced to face the fact that everybody dies at some point, no matter who they are. 

That wasn’t enough to prepare him for the cruelest thing life had to throw at him. Benjamin was diagnosed with leukemia when he was just two months shy of four-years-old, more specifically it was Chronic Myeloid Leukemia. 

The first few months were seemingly okay. He was responding well with the treatment, his little body growing stronger with each passing day. There were plenty of ice cream days to celebrate whenever Ben could function as good as he could before the cancer. Not to mention all the gifts his aunt Penelope would send.

There was hope, so much hope that Y/N and Spencer didn’t let the thoughts of losing their son loom over their head.

That was until he got sick again, this time much worse. It happened suddenly, Ben went from eating some fruit snacks and watching a movie to losing consciousness and growing pale. Spencer never thought he could get home faster than what he did when he got the phone call. Emily sent him home immediately after hearing the news, telling him to get home to his family and that she would check in.

The next few weeks were spent in the hospital, the bright lights being harsh on the eyes of the sore eyes of the Reid parents. Y/N didn’t sleep but for a few hours a night, any small movement or sound from Ben or his machines waking her up. Spencer had grown to not sleep for that long, surviving off maybe an hour a night and ten cups of coffee to push forward the following morning.

However, the suffocating realization of the inevitable was starting to soak in. Spencer wanted nothing more than for his son to make a recovery but as a man of science, that hope dissipated as he noticed the signs. People got better before death, so whenever Ben was showing all the signs of surging, it was enough to kill Spencer.

Even after they had a conversation with their doctor, the woman telling them that surging typically happens one to two days before death, it was like Y/N wouldn’t take that. She would say that he was fine, that he was healing. 

It was denial. 

The day they lost him was the hardest of them all. The air was suffocating that morning, there being a bitter winter chill. Spencer had gone to work, as usual. There was a case, one about a man who was killing women who resembled his birth mother after she rejected him from her life. He was distracted, like any father on the verge of losing his child would be.

He knew he shouldn’t have gone to work but he was losing his mind, being overwhelmed with the knowledge of the inevitable. He liked to think that if he and Y/N didn’t discuss it, it wasn’t real. As a man of science, he knew the risks of believing something like that.

Still, he gave himself false hope. 

However, his heart stopped beating for a split second as he could feel his phone buzzing, the world freezing around him as he couldn’t hear the others around him. He knew what this call was. It took JJ shaking Spencer’s shoulders to snap him out of his thoughts. “I have to go.” 

Making it to the hospital, he dreaded going inside. However, he was running through the hospital doors not bothering to check in at the front desk as he was going as fast as his legs could carry him to reach his son’s hospital room. 

Judging by the heart wrenching screams of agony from his wife on the other side of the door, Spencer knew what to expect as his shaking hand was opening the hospital door. The sight of his wife cradling their son was enough to make him drop to his knees. 

The nurses and doctors looked at the small family, feeling the sting of heartache as they’d gotten to know the Reid’s over the past year.

Spencer’s legs were like jelly, the tears cascading his face being enough where he was sure he could fill up the hospital room in tears, enough to drown in. They were able to stay as long as they wanted to, even if it was hours later. 

“Do you have his blanket?” Y/N asked, voice raw from the screaming and uncontrollable sobbing from before. “I don’t want him to get cold..” She whispered, looking at their son who looked like he was sleeping against his father’s chest. “In the bag.” The words were shaky, the father keeping his son close while letting his forehead rest against Benjamin’s smaller one.

After they were laying the little boy down again, Y/N was slowly putting the blanket over the child before she was leaning down to kiss his forehead, which had begun to grow cold from the hours his parents took to say goodbye. The parents clung to one another as they were being forced to walk out of the hospital. 

After that, their life lost all its color. Waking up to an alarm rather than to a happy little boy jumping on their bed just wasn’t the same. There was no laughter in the house, no warmth. The atmosphere was just as cold as the weather outside. No matter how many days that Penelope came over with baskets filled with small goodies to try and lift their spirits, or how Luke would come by to check in and bring food over that the two parents just couldn’t stomach.

The day of the funeral was when every ounce of denial was fizzing away. Next came anger. Y/N was moving a bit slow, honestly not wanting to rush and be greeted with the sad looks of their friends and family. Spencer was ready twenty minutes prior, wanting to rush the grieving process and just accept everything immediately, even if it was impossible.

“Please hurry up.” His voice was laced with irritation, making wife look up from her shoes as she was playing with the strap. “I am hurrying..” She spoke softly, a frown on her face as she slowly got the shoes on. “You don’t have to have an attitude, by the way.” 

That was the start of something ugly.

“Well, you don’t have to take thirty years and expect Benji to walk through the door.” The words were deep cutting, very uncharacteristic of the loving man she married.The words had his wife stunned in place, her mouth falling open. “You don’t have to be an asshole and keep reminding me of where we are going.” She spat, moving to brush her hair back before standing.

“You can’t keep acting like things are going to change. He’s gone, Y/N. No matter how bad we want him back, we will never get him back.” They were growing angry at one another at the wrong time. Before the yelling could start, there was a soft knock on the door. With a soft sigh, Spencer was turning around and heading to the sound of the soft knocking. 

The sight behind the door was enough to make his heart clench. There was Derek, the man offering a sad smile. “Hey, kid. I came to pick you two up. How’s the missus doing?” He asked, chuckling as Spencer was rushing to tightly hug his best friend, his hand slowly patting the younger male’s back. “Hi Derek.” Y/N offered a weak smile once she was closing the bedroom door. 

“Hey mama.” His voice was soft and careful, heading over to wrap his arms around the woman before kissing her cheek. “I was thinking that after everything, we could all go out to lunch.” He wasn’t stupid, he could tell that the two parents were neglecting themselves, he’d talked to the team. 

This was a sensitive time, so he understood. However, he wasn’t going to sit idly by either. He’d be damned if he let them both slowly waste away. Benjamin sure as hell wouldn’t have wanted that. 

“I don’t know, Derek. I don’t think I can deal with everyone looking at us with pity. You know how many people have told me that they hugged their babies tighter because of this situation? It hurts. Not nearly as helpful as people think..” The woman spoke while slowly rubbing her face.

“It’ll just be us. The team, our family.” He attempted to coax both parents, the two not being able to get out of it in the end.

The three eventually made it to the graveyard where they were confronting the one thing that they didn’t want to face. The Reids were approaching the plot that they’d purchased for the family, Y/N having to collect herself at the sight of the coffin waiting by the open plot. 

“There you two are,” Penelope looked like she’d been sobbing already, her arms wrapping tightly around both parents. That was where the floodgates broke, both of them tightly clutching onto the blonde enough to suffocate her. 

The ceremony was beautiful, despite the flood of tears and pain deep in the chests of all that were closest to the child who they were laying to rest. It was something honorable, Benji even having his uncle Aaron there to say a final goodbye. Even surrounded by love, there was still an emptiness, a void that would never be filled. 

What came next made things worse, the parents having to say goodbye as soon as the casket was being lowered in its plot, Y/N and Spencer wrapped up in one another’s embrace while their hands were clutching each other’s clothing. The wife was letting her head rest against her husband’s shoulder, their tears soaking one another’s clothes and hair.

It was just them now, with the ghost of their sweet angel who would keep a watchful eye over his parents, whether they knew it or not.

Dave was approaching the parents, his hand resting on Spencer’s shoulder as he cleared his throat to catch their attention. “I want you both to know that I will be here for you both, always.” David Rossi, the father of the team, it seemed. As well as being uncle Dave to all the kids, Benji included. 

“I heard that you two agreed to come to lunch.” He spoke softly, eliciting a small smile from Y/N. “We are.” She said softly, truly unable to say no to him. “We are having it in my backyard. Why don’t you two ride with me?” He suggested, making both Spencer and his wife look at one another.

They weren't getting out of this, so they complied and followed behind David.

The only problem was that so many amazing things happened in that backyard, Benji’s baby shower being one of them.

“Baby Reid is getting so big,” JJ gushed, her hand on Y/N’s swollen bump as the woman laughed in content. “Isn’t he? He’s also been kicking the hell out of my ribs, I feel like he's punishing me.” Y/N joked.

Finding out that she was pregnant was the best thing that ever happened. Of course, there were jokes of Spencer and Y/N not even waiting a year after they got married before she was already pregnant.

It was funny, really. Spencer was highly convinced that the baby was conceived on the first week of their honeymoon, the two being a little too into that talk while they were in the middle of sex, the filthy words of her being swollen with his baby becoming literal.

Diana was thrilled the moment that she saw her son and his wife on one of their visits, the woman being more thrilled at the prospect of her little Spencer having a child of his own. She would say that she knew before they even told her. 

“Mothers always know, Spencer. We are animals, we can feel things.” Were her exact words, something that she said Y/N would understand one day.

“Bella!” David smiled, the term of endearment being a newer one that he used for Y/N after the pregnancy, something about how she looked gorgeous because she was glowing. It was sweet, she had to admit it. “Hi, David.” Y/N grinned, her arms wrapping around the older man in a hug before she was pulling away. “You and Penelope did a beautiful job, by the way!”

Almost as if she were summoned, the bubbly blonde was hurrying over to flash a smile. “There you are my gorgeous girl! How are you feeling?” She asked, her hand cautiously rubbing her baby bump once Y/N gave her the okay.

“I’m doing good, actually. This boy is gonna be the death of me though. I was craving dirt the other day.” Her nose crinkled. “Weirdness. However, this baby is a Reid so that’ll explain it better than anything else.” Penelope joked. 

“It’s actually more normal than you might think. One theory links pica cravings to iron deficiencies. Another theory suggests these cravings develop as an adaptive response to the way the immune system changes during pregnancy.” Spencer smiled while letting his arms wrap around his wife from behind, his lips pressing a kiss to her cheek before his hands were coming underneath the heavy bump, lifting it up gently to take some of the pain from his wife’s back.

It was enough to make the woman sigh of relief as her head was tilted back against his shoulder. “You are such a lifesaver.” She breathed while briefly closing her eyes. 

Spencer was attentive and loving, paying attention to her much more after the pregnancy was discovered.

This was a dream.

This was a nightmare, the memories rushing back to Y/N as she was walking into the backyard where all those sweet memories lived. It was emotionally draining, so much so that her hand was reaching aimlessly for Spencer’s.

As soon as her husband realized what she was doing, he was slowly approaching his wife and letting his hand tightly grip onto hers. He didn’t realize how bad they needed this, to have a reminder that they still had each other. He figured it was implied but this made a bit of weight lift off his chest. 

“I know it may be a bit hard to laugh right now,” Penelope began as she was offering a smile. “But I know how much Benji used to love having dinner with all of us, no matter where we went.” She began, making a soft, sad smile spreading across Y/N’s face. 

“So, I figured that I would honor one of my favorite godson’s in the best way possible. Instead of boring adult food, I made extra sure to get the best of the best.” Being a four-year-old, Benjamin was just as picky as the next kid. 

“Don’t tell me,” Spencer began, looking over as she was happily showing off the meal she had catered. It consisted of all the essential food groups of a young child; chicken nuggets, macaroni and cheese, and french fries. 

Hank, Michael, Henry, the Simmons children and Jack were all over the idea of that. The adults, though, couldn’t help the soft laughter. “Benji would definitely approve.” Y/N offered a soft smile, shaking her head fondly. “Even up until the end, he had to have his nuggets.” Spencer added, a few tears springing up in his eyes at the pleasant memory, even in the darkest time of their lives.

“I don’t want that..” Benjamin wrinkled his nose as he was pushing away the soup that the hospital was giving him, making Spencer look up from his book. “It’s good for you, Benji. Try it.” He urged on, a smile as he put the book down after finding his bookmark. 

“Daddy, no. It’s yucky. It smells yucky.” He continued on, the four year old running the spoon through the bowl.

Like his mother, he was dramatic about it, gagging at the mere thought of eating what he was given. “I want chicken nuggets.” He whined out, now looking at his mother, who was sighing in content. 

“Take a few bites and try it! If you try it and you don’t like it, I’ll go get you some nuggets. Sounds fair?” She asked, keeping the stern tone yet offering a sweet smile, knowing damn well that he’d get his way in the end anyway. Even if he liked the soup.

“I’ll try it but I might be sick, mama.” He warned, looking at the broth with vegetables before he was taking a good amount on the spoon.

He eyed it over before pushing it into his mouth. Both parents couldn’t help the laughter falling from their lips as Benji pulled a face, looking offended he was even made to try it.

“Blegh! Nasty!” The animated child was pushing the tray table away as Y/N was already getting up to grab her keys. “I’m going! I’m going! Make sure that you watch your daddy, you know he likes getting into too much trouble.” 

As everyone had a plate in front of them, everyone was looking at the Reids, expectant of them to get up. Derek was the one who was already making two plates before placing them down in front of the two. “There you are pretty boy and pretty girl, no need to get up.” He knew what he was doing.

Even with the lack of appetite, Y/N was slowly picking up her fork before collecting a bit of the mac and cheese on her fork, slowly moving to push the fork in her mouth. She didn’t realize just how hungry she was before that bite. Of course, barely eating for two weeks would do that to you.

Spencer seemed to be on the same page, the two unknowingly eating like they hadn’t eaten in years. The group said nothing about it, although they shared collective glances and their eyes were glistening over with relief. 

They were eating enough to actually keep themselves alive, to keep themselves from falling ill and being stuck in the hospital being fed through IVs. After all they went through, they didn’t need to be in another hospital for a long time.

The rest of the day was spent with their family rather than them being locked up at home, real smiles gracing their features for the first time in forever. Being together in a quiet home was taking a huge hit at their mental health. 

This was what they needed. Their full support system. 

It was later on in the evening before Y/N and Spencer had gotten home, the two ordering takeout for dinner whenever they arrived at home. The wife was looking over the picture of their family that she had hanging up in the kitchen, a soft smile on her face. He looked so peaceful today, didn’t he?” She asked, her voice soft.

“No more pain, no more weakness.. Just peaceful.” Spencer added on, looking up from his hands. “Y/N.. I’m sorry about what I said earlier. It was horrible to say,” He said as his wife was offering a gentle smile. “I understand. It’s hard right now but.. Spencer, I love you. With every fiber of my being. Please remember that.”

It was what he needed to hear, his head nodding. “I know. I love you so much, baby. Thank you. I’m here for you, even if you just need to cry and be taken care of.” The taller man was standing up before heading over to tightly hug his wife. “You’re so strong. So fucking strong.” He spoke softly while kissing the top of her head. 

All they needed to power through this together was each other, they would make it through this for Benji over all else. It was what he would've wanted , their love to persevere. 

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

I'm the anon who asked that one ask you didn't make. Let me rephrase that, just in case the first one was too much.

How about the M6 who saw MC burying their head underwater when they cry? MC has this habit of hiding their problems and always keeps a strong persona in front of everybody. But when they breakdown, they go to a stream, a lake, the bathhouse, whatever place that has bodies of water so that they can put their head in the water and scream out their tears and inner conflicts. Because when they do this, nobody can hear them cry underwater.

Hopefully this one is more acceptable than the other one. Thanks, Brainrot. I'll try to be more considerate for the others :)

Hi anon,

I want to be clear from the beginning of this that what I'm saying is not coming from a place of anger or hate. Rather, there's been a small but growing trend in my inbox lately that I want to address, and this request is one of the clearest examples of it. I intend no harm against you and I'm not requesting any kind of apology, I'd just like to give some boundary reminders.

I understand your frustration with your first request not getting written. The opportunity to have content for a favorite set of characters custom made to your ideas is exciting! Much of the time that it doesn't happen, it's because there's more mini-hcs in the inbox than I can write, or it's because due to the amount of traffic through it some of the asks get lost. (I still write well over 90% of the prompts that come in, though, which is how my current posting output is roughly 2 full headcanons, a Vesvuvia Weekly prompt, and 21 mini headcanons a week!) It's why I usually don't mind receiving a request a second time in case there wasn't space for the first one ^.^

However, I still have the right to pick what I do and don't write. While my guidelines are written with the comfort and safety of my readers in mind, they are primarily there as my own personal boundaries. Writing about things like waterboarding, torture, child abuse and neglect, toxic relationships etc. without a context of healing, recovery, and personal growth is and always has been off the table. I chose not to write your earlier, more extreme prompt because it would violate the boundaries I outlined in my pinned post, and I'm choosing not to write this one either for the same reasons. I don't judge you for wanting to consume content with those themes (we all have our tastes, and that's okay!) but I'm not going to compromise my own boundaries or mental health to write something that's meant to be a free gift of my own creativity. There are other authors you can ask for those themes who would be happy to provide.

I don't bring this up often because I don't want to ruin the chill vibes, but I do in fact do this for free. I clock easily 30+ hours of work a week putting content on this blog alongside my full time job - and that is work that I am happy to do! I'm privileged enough to do this without needing to monetize it, and I find my reward in being able to share my writing with people, make friends, and create joy where I can. Even if I did depend on this for my livelihood, that still wouldn't entitle anyone to my services. I'm immensely grateful to the people who send me their ideas and support my work and give me feedback, but the work I do for the people on my page is out of joy and love, not obligation.

For the few anonymous requesters who send me prompts with disturbing content outside my guidelines, I understand that not everyone has an interest in checking my boundaries (listed in my pinned post) first. I'm not angry about that. However, I in turn have no interest in writing for requests that disregard those boundaries. Those requests are not entitled to being fulfilled or responded to.

To the vast majority of my readers and requesters, thank you!! Your ideas are a constant source of creative delight and your feedback and interest and joy light up my page. You guys are the best and have a special place in my heart :)

Cheers,

brainrot

[katboykirby]

As someone with autism, Satan with an autistic MC would be so wholesome and perfect...

Satan who makes sure a MC always has a jacket and a spare pair of plastic gloves handy to help them with their sensory issues.

Satan who takes over some of autistic MC’s chores, cleaning the dirty dishes and dealing with leftovers so that MC doesn’t freak out when they have to touch it.

Satan who never leaves MC’s side at large gatherings lest they get overstimulated and run off again. The last time that happened it took everyone so long to find them. Luckily, MC was alright. They were tucked away in a small room in the castle to hide.

Satan who is perfectly alright with sitting silently in your room while the two of you work on your own things. Maayyybeee he wouldn’t mind it if you wanted to scoot closer to him.

DOESN’T LET DIFFERENT FOODS TOUCH ON YOUR PLATE!! WILL START A RIOT IF HE FINDS THAT ANYONE HAS LET FOODS TOUCH ON YOUR PLATE!!

…ahem

Satan who doesn’t find MC’s tendency to disappear without a trace frustrating. He knows they like to go ‘exploring’ alone, wandering off for a short while before returning to his side per usual. Maybe when you grow close enough you’ll take him on a little journey.

Satan who admires you and your love for certain things. No matter how trivial they may seem, he knows that those are the things that make up the world for you. He’ll gladly listen to you talk about your interests for hours.

Satan who takes your relationship as slow as you may need. Sexual intimacy doesn’t equal love to him. He’s okay with you touching him and not the other way around if that’s what you feel comfortable with.

Satan who seems to be the only one who understands MC’s reluctance to physical touch. He avoids touching MC whenever possible. He shows his affection for MC in other ways.

Taking them to a quiet cat café.

Taking them to a new pop up event for their favorite anime.

Hell, he even downloaded Mononoke Land so that when they went on walks together he could catch spirits alongside them. (He’s their only added friend on the game so he makes sure to send them gifts daily.)

When MC shyly hugs him for the first time he thinks he might combust on the spot— it’s such a special occasion for him!

You think you’re a burden and nuisance because you’re so different, yet to Satan, that’s what makes you so perfect. It’s what makes him love you so much.

(p.s,,, if it wouldn’t bother you I could be 💚anon or bitchass autistic anon! I don’t know if you label your anons or not. :) )

((also don’t feel pressured to respond or look at this ask! I just thought you might like it.))

This is so, so lovely and I really enjoyed reading all of your thoughts. And nobody has asked to be a tagged Anon before! Of course you can be 💚 Anon!

I feel like I don't have very much to say in response, because you've already put everything into words so wonderfully. I'm not autistic myself, but I know that there's some overlap with ADHD (my own diagnosis) when it comes to certain habits or behaviours, and I do some of the things that you've described so I feel like I can relate to a certain extent.

I do think that all of the OM boys would be supportive of an autistic partner (or any of the personal struggles that their partner might have, be they mental or physical) but I do also believe that Satan would be one of the best at intuitively knowing exactly what his partner wants and needs without having to ask for anything to be explained or spelled out for him.

Whether you HC Satan as autistic or not, he does have a lot of his own habits and behaviours that are somewhat similar, and he's good at figuring things out on his own even from very small or subtle hints.

If he sees you carefully separating the different foods on your plate (something many of his brothers would be too loud or rowdy during mealtimes to notice right away) he would make sure to keep your food clearly separated the next time it was his turn to make dinner, and would make sure to separate your food every time in the future as well.

If he notices the way you gently (or not-so-gently) pull away from physical contact, he will always be sure to refrain from touching you without your explicit permission; something that his other brothers (like Mammon, Asmo, or Beel, for example) might take longer to figure out, since they're just so used to hugging you or putting an arm around you without even thinking about it. Satan isn't the biggest fan of all the touchy-feely stuff either (we often see him yelling at his brothers not to touch him in the games) so he knows how you feel, and he doesn't want to intrude on your personal space.

He loves that you always listen to him whenever he has something to say, especially when he starts gushing at length about the current book he's reading or about the cat he saw on his way from from RAD that day. Nobody else really bothers to pay him any attention when he starts rambling like that - Levi is really the only one who can relate, but Levi also has trouble keeping himself from interrupting and going into his own long spiels. And Satan loves listening to you when you tell him all about your own hyperfixations in turn. It doesn't matter what you're rambling about, Satan is hanging on to every word.

Satan is a very meticulous person who would take his time to deeply and carefully consider all of the best ways he could support you and make you feel comfortable, without making you feel patronised or condescend to. He'd never want to make you feel like a child he was taking care of, because you are both perfectly equal in his eyes. He knows what it feels like to be seen as less than, thanks to many years of hinself only ever being seen as his rage. He never wants you to feel like just a diagnosis or just a disability. Like his Wrath, your autism is a part of you, but it is not all of you. It is not your entire identity or all that you are.

He loves you so, so much ♡

[mrgriffiths]

Hey there! I'm new to the Fandom, and I love love love your blog and all that you share about TIG/Terry Silver. I couldn't help but ask..

What are your thoughts on kk3!terry falling for a beloved that's from Vietnam?

I noticed that you haven't done these types of asks, so I wanted to know your thoughts on it!

You don't have to reply to this, but thank you so much for all that you do!

xoxo

Hi there, anon! Welcome to the Fandom <3

Thank you for your kind words!

I haven't really answered an ask like this, but I'll share my thoughts on it. You're always welcome to send me an ask!

If you're looking for similar content, then @terrence-silver is your blog! They have the best chatacter analysis of Terry and some of TIGs' other characters, too!

And if you're looking for a reader/oc insert stories/one shots for Terry or other TIG characters, then I certainly recommend these awesome blogs for you! @karatekels @virgo-mess @eemcintyre @thedeadsingforme @larussos-left-sock

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- Terry had come a long way from the person he once was during his Vietnam days. He's no longer the skinny, doe-eyed, somewhat innocent kid who came from a rich family all to prove to his father(and himself) that he is a man.

- He had an empire of his own now, dynatix industries, a nuclear waste disposal company that had been handed down to him by his father. He's done plenty of shady things, getting on the cover of the latest magazine and news papers was a regular thing for him. His physique was envied by men who were associated with him even. Perfectly sculpted face and an equally perfect charm to go with it.

- He had a playboy reputation with more money than most in the upper crust society. He's manipulative and will use any tactic he sees fit if needed. Everyone else is below him and he always had a good time toying with people. He's had his time with girls of every race, age , color, you name it. When Terry Silver wants something, he will definitely get it. So when he sets his sites on his beloved for the first time, he isn't bewildered immediately until he finds out more about them.

- If anything he sees them as the enemy at first, a stigma that's been around since the time he's been to Vietnam. He never forgot what happened there. Waking up in cold sweat after seeing his friend killed right infront of him, the bomb blasts and torture they all had gone through. A parting gift of the war.

- his beloved has certainly perked his interests though, whether they're apart of his upper crust society or simply a nobody there's definitely something about them that he can't seem to look past them. Maybe it's their features that is embedded in his head after he first saw them.

- Or it could be their characteristics or personality that's different from every woman he's ever been with. Maybe it's the way they walk, the way they talk, heck maybe it's the way they breathe. Terry will notice everything.

- Terry finds himself looking for beloved all the more. No amount of coke or bedding woman who even looks like them does the trick. He finds himself needing to find out everything about his beloved. He'd immediately thought of hiring an entire team of private investigators to find out every little thing about them. He wants to know their history, who is responsible for bringing his newly formed 'problem' into this world.

- He eventually sets on doing the job by himself. Stalking them, breaking in and entering into their home whilst they're in a deep sleep. He by hearted they're daily routine, he knows when they're in a deep sleep during the late hours of the night. He knows what they eat, what they wear, what hobbies they have, all down to what brand of shampoo they use. He utilizes anything that will help him understand what they are all about.

- He'd sometimes leave something behind in they're home, a dingy apartment unworthy of beloved in his eyes regardless of how well maintainedit is or not. Maybe a hundred dollar bill or even his own semen on their pillows after jerking off on their bed. He'd take something for himself too. Maybe a pair or two of beloved underwear suddenly goes missing.

- After everything he's come to know of beloved with them being none the wiser, he curates a persona of himself that fits all of beloved needs and wants ultimately becoming their dream man before he comes face to face with them again.

- Terry entraps beloved in his web afterwards. He makes sure they're smitten with him and never suspects a thing, giving them everything he knows they want from a partner gaining their trust over a short span of time. Once he's got them where he wants them he would reveal his true self. Ultimately hurting beloved so deeply because they are in fact the enemy. There's a price you have to pay for taking up so much of his time and consuming his mind.

- He thinks he's finally gotten what he wanted after breaking beloved completely but he still isn't able to move past them. It finally dawns upon him that he is in fact in love with beloved and no matter what he tells himself he cannot find anyone to replace them, no amount of coke or people who look like them.

- Terry sets about getting them back this time as himself. No matter where beloved goes he will find them. He will kidnap them if need be in the occasion of them denying everything he's offering them. He will help them see reason in time. He will go to any lengths to make sure beloved remains at his side.

- Stockholm syndrome will be in full swing. He erases the identity beloved once had as no one has the right to so much as know what beloved looks like without his permission. He'd estrange beloved from they're friends and family making them see how he's the only one they need.

- Preparations for the wedding will be in full swing. The wedding of the century. Everyone will know and will be ultimately shocked that playboy Terrence Silver has settled down. The entire world would know months in advance yet they would never see the actual ceremony regardless of the royal standard preparations that's been made. Terry's beloved is for his eyes only.

- The media only gets a single glimpse of beloved and they're rarely seen afterwards. Only when Terry deems it fit at some gala or event. Rest assured, no other woman ever crosses his mind again. He's fully consumed by beloved without them knowing the power they truly have on him. He'd go to any lengths to sure them his devotion too.

- beloved is the only one he'd trust with the truly gruesome parts of his life, through the Vietnam flashbacks where he'd sometimes need to hold them tightly the entire night or sometimes just their presence in the room at a distance. They've seen it all with him including the way he's beloved friend John Kreese had left him when things went down south. Beloved is the only thing that helps keep him grounded.

- Terry eventually starts a legacy of his own with beloved making sure that everything goes as he planned. Nothing is too much or unnecessary for his Silver empire.

Decades later he looks at himself in the bathroom mirror, thinking of how everything had suddenly took a turn in his life that one fateful day he'd set his eyes on beloved. His reflection stares back at him and next to it, ponytail stands with a smile on his face. His long lost war buddy whose personality and traits he's personally taken over as a tribute to his friend.

"You've chosen well twig." , ponytail says and vanishes in the next second leaving Terry smiling faintly at the thought. Letting his now silver colored hair down from its confines, he goes into his bedroom joining his beloved in bed.

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Ahh, I hope I've done this ask justice!

Thank you for sending it in anon!

Much love🤍

[ashessonfire]

hello lovely!! would it be possible to write smth w wylan?? like, sweet little headcanons abt him in a relationship!! thank youu <3 love ur fics

Dating Wylan Van Eck - Headcanons <3

- Pairing - Wylan Van Eck x Reader (gender neutral)

A/N - Hi Hi!! One exam is down, only four more to go! Very soon my other works will be completed, but i missed writing so much, so here are some of my sweet headcanons for Wylan. I hope i have done him justice in this, as I am normally a Kaz type of girl. I hope i have done you proud anon <3333

Reminder - my requests are always open, please keep sending them! <3

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The most attentive partner you could ever find, he will pay you 100% of his attention no matter the topic

He never wishes for you to experience the loneliness and isolation he felt with your father, EVER

As a result of this, expect the sweetest and most heartfelt gifts to be hurriedly placed into your hands before he runs off to distract himself from the blush blooming across his face

Every single present you receive from him will be extremely intricate and personal, remembering childhood stories you've recalled, or things you wished for years ago

"I know you said it about six months ago, but..."

He does not forget nor ignore a single detail about you

Despite his sheepish nature, the longer you're with him, the more adorable outbursts occur

By this I mean sudden bursts of bubbling confidence as he explains something he's passionate about, or witty jokes he's thought of

"Well, actually, did you know that technically, humans can create their own venom? So, it starts with....."

Although he may be embarrassed and retreat into himself afterwards, any sign of encouragement from you would melt his heart, prompting him to keep opening himself up to you

Another thing that would simply make his heart implode, is if you took interest in his passions - allowing him to teach you simple chords on the piano, or help him produce a few basic chemical reactions down in the lab

Just showing care for the things he adores would result in him losing his mind, since very few people in his past had taken any true interest in him, at all

He would be the most gentle and patient teacher ever, placing soft kisses on your knuckles when you succeeded in getting a melody correct on the piano, or a peck on the cheek when you have accomplished anything

In terms of love languages, I am certain that Wylan actually uses all of them... <3

Although he can be nervous to express his feelings through words, he is a poetic and creative soul, so given time to grow comfortable with you, whispers of "I love you," or "I'm so lucky to have found you," would slowly slip into conversations

Quality time is a given for Wylan, since he's never had someone who wants his company for long, again wishing to shelter you from the pain he has experienced himself - expect many quiet evenings by the fireplace where he crafts melodies on the flute, and you bake or read in comfort

Once time has gifted the boy more confidence, expect his touch to increase swiftly, never wanting to let you go - soft brushes of your shoulders as you walk side-by-side, fingers gently interlocked, brushes of stray locks as the breeze shifts them...

He would do anything for you, no matter what you ask of him, so always expect your home to be spotless, your chores already completed when you turn to do them - with Wylan its very unlikely you will need to do much at all, he is so attentive

As mentioned earlier, gift giving is definitely one of his favorite ways to express his love, clearly portraying his heart to you when his words may fail him

In terms of what he wants and needs in a relationship? I think his standards would be on the floor, merely needing your presence in a room to comfort him

However once he realizes that you reciprocate his acts of love? Well I think he'd be completely at your mercy by that point

Although it may take some time to stop his fretting and insecurities, once he accepts that he doesn't just have to give, but he can receive love back, he is the happiest he has ever been in his life

With your love and affection, he would absolutely thrive, becoming a more confident and strong version of himself - slowly stripping him of his nervous behaviour and allowing his true self to shine more often

To me, a relationship with Wylan would be a gentle, affectionate, and peaceful experience - both partners being showered in love constantly

Being with him is like having a personal ray of sunshine, who would express his love for you in any way he can <3

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p.s ~ any reposts help me infinitely!! ^^

[thoughtsonhurtandcomfort]

I don’t know how to start messages (except like this), but hope you get the writing juice back soon! At your own pace of course.

Hope this isn’t somehow annoying (I overthink a lot and over-explain/apologize as a result, sorry), and that you take care of yourself, stay hydrated, and all that jazz! Also that you have a happy new year when it passes by :)

Also, bit unrelated, but seriously, how the fuck do you write so well? It’s like magic/witchcraft, and I mean that in a very complimentary way (hope it’s not strange, but same anon who left the long compliment message. Just for context, hope that’s not annoying). Feel free to ignore this bottom part but do you have any tips/advice for writing? Always wanted to but never knew how to start.

Again, and I’m not saying this to somehow be guilt-trippy (I SWEAR I’m not, just want to make sure my writing tone is clarified, I’m not good at telling it) feel free to not answer, but your writing is genuinely some of the best I’ve ever read, top 10 for sure!

ANYWAYS, hope you have a great rest of your day/night (even though I just said that at the beginning lol) and that I didn’t somehow accidentally mess my writing up and come off as offensive or strange or weird somehow (my overthinking is strong, I apologize in advance.) :)

-idk

Hi!! Happy new year!

I apologize for not being very quick at answering, I'm very lazy and not always online. But I have seen and read all your asks from the first one and appreciate them so much. <3 If you want, you can give yourself an anon nickname - for example, someone sends me the occasional anonymous ask with a strawberry emoji at the end, so I know it's the same person!

And oh gosh...I'm so flattered that you like my writing?? I don't consider myself particularly good but I enjoy it a lot and am at least happy enough with things to share them. One cool thing about this community is how responsive people are to the work they enjoy, for any writer or artist or creator that is such a gift!

So, it's worth mentioning that I minored in writing in college. I mention that because it contributed to my personal experience with writing but in no way do I think someone needs to formally study to become a good writer, nor does formal study guarantee being one.

Also, I didn't go into any jobs that involve writing, it has remained just a hobby, and I'm fine with that. I strongly believe that creating and enjoying art is for everyone regardless of skill level and without being expected to monetize it or gain popularity. We are so lucky to be able to read, write, draw, paint, etc, when through much of human history, and still in parts of the world, those things were only available to a privileged few. Now I can write and doodle in a cheap shitty Dollar Tree notebook if I want to and no one can stop me.

I don't feel qualified to give too much advice, but I can at least share some things that have worked for me. And I encourage other writers who see this to do the same!

Read. The more you read, and the more variety especially, the more you will pick up. The idea of course isn't to copy other people's work but to get a feel for different styles, learn new words and phrases, be inspired. My love of writing started with reading.

Practice. This is the most boring answer but also unfortunately the most important. Sometimes you just gotta do the thing to get better at the thing.

Daydream. This isn't for everyone, but I have always had an active imagination. As long as I can remember I would imagine little scenarios in my head, sometimes over and over to try out different versions of them or add details. Writing can just be having little stories in your head that you feel compelled to put down, and doing so can be really rewarding whether you share them or not.

Outline. This is pretty basic, I just love to outline. It doesn't have to be a fancy formatted one, just jot down the key points of the thing you want to write, in order. Then fill it out with notes, phrases, any other ideas you have. None of this has to be fleshed out, it's just to organize your thoughts.

Drafts are good, actually. Have a first draft and a second and a third if you need to. Move things around, delete, rewrite, reword, whatever. Nothing has to be perfect the first time through, sometimes it's nice to just let the words flow and figure out the details later.

Learn the rules so you can break them. Even if you don't take writing in school, there are lots of ways to study basic grammar, punctuation, writing tools like metaphors and similes and all that. The point isn't to write like a robot, it is to have a solid foundation on which to build your creativity. Lots of pretty words are pointless if the reader can't understand what you're trying to communicate. And once you know the 'rules', you can intentionally bend and break them to create a desired effect and develop a personal style.

And finally,

WRITE WHAT YOU WANT.

It's a phrase that gets thrown around a lot, and I'm glad because it's true but saying it and getting it are two different things. If you're writing as a hobby, it's meant to be enjoyed. Write things you would want to read. Write the things that feel right to you. Write things that help you express something. Write things that challenge you in a positive way, or write things that are comforting and simple, as long as it's coming from within you.

And if you aren't feeling it, it's ok to just...stop. Or at least pause. I am still learning that I don't have to force myself to write just because I think someone is expecting it, I don't have to fill a prompt that doesn't interest me just because I feel bad if I don't. I have piles of unfinished word docs and google docs and tumblr drafts that will never get finished and that is OK. Give yourself permission for that to be OK. When you let go of the projects that feel like a slog you give more space for the projects that spark joy!

Anyway, I hope any of this is helpful. However you do it, I hope you will create something!

[call-sign-shark]

Hi Shark. I was wondering if I could be cheeky and request something from you. I was wondering if you could release a headcanon for Heaven with a list of fun facts about her (i.e. fave food, color, animal, vacation spot, book, song, drink...if she went to university what d'you think she'd study that kind of thing). She's just so interesting that I'd like to know more about her. Also, I read a fic she was mentioned in the other day and I thought you'd be interested. It was just a mention but I thought it was cool. Also, I can't wait for The woods whisper part 2. I'm on edge.

Hi sweet anon, thank you so much for your wonderful ask! As for the fic, please do send me the link. I probably have it in my reading list if the mutual has tagged me but I reckon I need to catch up with a lot of things. I've been feeling quite tired lately and I’m starting a new job as a bartender so it's quite tiring. I’m delighted you find the murderous angel interesting so here we go. 🖤

𝐻𝑒𝒶𝓋𝑒𝓃 𝐿𝒶𝓋𝑒𝓎 𝒮𝒽𝑒𝓁𝒷𝓎 headcanons

𝒫𝑒𝒶𝓀𝓎 𝐵𝓁𝒾𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇𝓈

♢ Her favorite animals are hyenas. She dreams about owning one?? She’s weird asf I know.

♢ I personally imagine her voice like the singer of Sohodolls (by the way, this song from the group is her main theme song)

♢ Surprisingly enough her favorite color is not white, but red and gold.

♢ She's multilingual and speaks: French, Russian, German, and English all fluently.

♢ She's 25 at the beginning of HYE, even if throughout her life people struggle to give her an age since she has this very woman-child aspect.

♢ Her style is quite modern for the era. When she doesn’t wear elegant and revealing dresses with gold jewels, capes or fur coats, she loves stealing one of Arthur’s shirts and tuck it in her skirt. Similarly, he had to buy a second coat ‘cause she had stolen his. Most of the time she either dresses like a goddess or a forest nymph.

♢ She loves fun fairs and circuses! When they started flirting together and meeting at church every night, Arthur sometimes brought her candied apples.

♢ She might be an enchanting singer and she might love music but she's awful at playing an instrument. She tried piano, guitar, harp, and violin but she was terrible at all of them.

♢ She has empathy issues she hides quite well. Now, I’m not saying she has 0 Empathy but she lacks of it most of the time except with Arthur or on a few occasions. It leads her to be cold and sardonic with people outside of her private circle when she doesn’t “mask”.

♢ Did someone said “lemon pie”? She’d kill for lemon pies. It’s her favorite dessert of all time.

♢ Her Birthday is the 22 January.

♢ She's fond of myths, legends, and fairy tales. If she had to pick one tale and one myth she would go for the Red Little Riding Hood and the Beast of Gevaudan. But her favorite story is Alice’s Adventures.

♢ She's a "mama bear", which means she doesn't lose her temper easily despite being gifted with an ability for extreme violence but touch her husband, kids or family and she'll go f e r a l.

♢ She talked several times with Linda at church, unknowing Heaven was already fucking her husband (and she enjoyed it). I know, that's a dick move.

𝑀𝑜𝒹𝑒𝓇𝓃 𝒜𝒰

*most of the hc above still works for her modern!self

♢ Her favorite book is The Silence of the Lambs by Thomas Harris.

♢ She works as an exotic pole dancer and aerial performer. Considering this, she also masters aerial hoop, silks, and Chinese pole.

♢ She is currently applying to study forensic medicine after several years of gaps.

♢ She has spent years locked up in a mental institute, in the dangerous patients ward.

♢ Her favorite food is Japanese Udon soup with gyoza and Nikuman as side dishes.

♢ She loves listening to brutal music, such as metal, hard rock, or alternative trash/bimbo music even if her playlist is actually quite varied. You can go from Rammstein and Angerfist to Britney Spears and Lana Del Rey.

♢ She smokes weed.

♢ If she had to choose a drink it would be red wine for alcohol and pumpkin spice latte for sweet. But in truth, she’s that annoying gym girl so she mostly drinks water and homemade protein smoothies. She also loves boba milk teas.

♢ She's a huge fan of horror movies and games (especially FNAF), with a fascination for cannibalism. With that being said, she organizes the best girl nights ever, especially during Halloween.

Heaven is reader in the Arthur Shelby x you series Heaven in Your Eyes. Why don't you join the ride? We have drama, sex and gore.

[fatuismooches]

smooches you have no idea how much i want to be Pantalone's little househusband i promise im normal you dont get it! your post about a reader who has physical touch as their love language boosted this by like 9999999% i keep rereading the pantalone bit and giggling (also the zandik part broke my heart how could u... </3 /lh /pos)

i wanna cook him dinner when he gets home and offer him a kiss when he returns :(( I want to be surprised when he sees something that reminds him of of me and so he got it !!! I want to massage his shoulders and give him a kiss on the cheek as i do so :(((( I wanna wash his hair with no matter how much product as he uses :(((( I want to use a hair dyer and gently style his hair for him however he wants! I want to cuddle with him as he rambles about his day! I wanna help him get ready in the morning and help him with anything he needs !! i want to make him a cute little breakfast before he goes off to work !! I'd be so sad when he leaves :((( but then i realized he forgot his lunch, so before his break i waltz into his office and bring him his lunch with a kiss on the cheek! I crave domesticity with this man i am feral i am insane I'm running around in circles - 🎈 no one understands my yearning

TEEHEE I'M GLAD YOU LIKED THAT POST!! ❤️ (ALSO I DIDNT MEAN TO BREAK YOUR HEART NOOO IM SENDING ALL MY HUGS 🎈 ANON!!) And omg,,, you're so right ;(( THAT'S SOOOO CUTEE AHHH!! Indulging in all of the sweet little domestic things with Pantalone >>>

Ughh,,,,, him coming home after a super long day and all he wants to do is relax with you in bed, but as usual he comes home to a delicious smell wafting throughout the house and he already knows you're making his favorite ;)) And although he was tempted to skip dinner just to cuddle with you he can't say no to your cooking made with love!! And he certainly can't say no to hoisting you up on the counter and giving you a tonnnn of kisses while the meal finishes cooking! And the gifts? How could you not be ecstatic at his gifts? It's not just the large $ he drops on you as if it's nothing that makes you blush, but how he explains why he got it for you <33 We love a king who thinks of you always !!

Ohhhh he absolutely adores when you take care of him <3 you're such a good darling, going so far as to take care of your husband like this, even though you have your own responsibilities and troubles :( Pantalone loves how intimate and soft you are with him... your hands may not be as skilled as a professional but your rubs really make the stress roll away better than anyone... he's very fussy with his hair but you know all the tricks after being with him for so long :) You'll make sure he doesn't feel an ounce of pain or discomfort and ensure that it's as fluffy as usual! Don't let him fall asleep in the tub though... it's nearly impossible to get him out then. Though he'll totally pamper you the same way, better than royalty! Equal exchange and all! (Also because you're his beloved of course, even if you didn't he would still love you like that)

He loves rambling to you, because you're probably the only person that at least partially understands his rambles but also 100% willing to listen 🥺 Pantalone gets up quite early so he'll try not to wake you... but if you get up anyway to help him his heart would be blown into itty bitty pieces 🥰 He insists on you getting your 8+ hours but he can't deny he loves when his beloved gives him a goodbye kiss and sees him off for the day 🥰 Pantalone gives you a kiss back and reassures you he'll be back before you know it...

You could just send an agent to deliver his forgotten lunch but why would you ever lose out on the chance to see your husband?! Do the regular Fatuis say anything when you walk in with a very cute, delicious, and organized lunchbox for the Harbinger? Nope. Do they know not to disturb the Regrator when you're alone with him in his office? Yes. SO FREAKING CUTE 🎈 ANON AHHHQDWBDJWDND

[dodriotrio]

Introduction Post!

Hello! Mylah made me make this account, and I see a lot of people making these "Introduction posts."

My name is Kane, I am a Pokemon ranger from Galar. Usually I work in the Wild Area unless I am needed somewhere else, so that is where you will usually find me. I also foster Pokemon when I have the free time, I will likely be posting about this a lot, haha.

Apologies if my Galarian is not the best. This is not my first language, and I am still learning.

This is my trainer card, and my team! They are all very sweet Pokemon, and trained to help me work. I'll be using their Galarian nicknames on here, for safety reasons. These are not their actual names however.

You can use my Trainer ID to send Mystery Gifts, I do not mind! :]

I also have a roommate! She will use this account from time to time, I don't really think I can stop her......

-

Salutations friends, adversaries, colleagues! I am Kane's aforementioned lovely roommate. I won't dilly dally and provide the same content that he does splendidly, instead it will be my miscellaneous musings.

I also own a trainer card, though it has a noticeable lack of pokemon as you may see. I hope to change this fact eventually, but I am happy as is for now.

Apologies in the near future, as I don't particularly have a good memory, so I likely will forget things unless I'm reminded often! :)

// rest of post is OOC!

*Sprite edits were done by Moth, using the gen 3 ranger M and Gardenia's gen 5 sprite

Hello! This is the OOC part of the introduction. Obviously, this is a multimuse blog run by both @act11as and @tinkerscrickets !

Moth's rotomblr hub is @battle-subway-aftershow

OOC posts by Moth will be in green text, and tagged with #ooc and #moth's yapping!

OOC posts by Tinker will be in red text, and tagged with #tinker's posting!

Trigger warnings on this blog should always be tagged as "[word] tw" for ease of convenience with blacklisting. Feel free to send an ask/message if we miss something!

Muses are adults, mods are both minors. Keep this in mind, please. Don't be a weirdo, etc etc.

With that out of the way...

Guidelines:

No NSFW, or overly suggestive content/asks. If you send anons of any of these three, I (Moth) Will mock your ask relentlessly. Publicly sometimes, even. This is your only warning.

IN-CHARACTER Anon hate is perfectly fine! Mods reserve the right to delete anything they don't want to respond to, however.

*Almost Anyone can interact! Eeby Deebies, sentient pokemon, evil teams, etc! Just note that the muses may not always believe you, or like you. This is to be expected.

*Self-Insert fallers, please do not interact. Self-insert ocs are fine, but the idea of a real person on rotomblr being isekaid into Pokémon is not.

Extras:

Mystery Gifts are now open! And Preferred! Feel free to go crazy with this ^^

Pelipper Mail, un-mail, and Malice are also open!

Musharna mail, (sending dreams) and Musharna malice (sending nightmares) are on!

Magic Anons are off, unless otherwise specified.

*Obviously, make sure to specify who these are meant for! Otherwise it's just free reign lmao

Some organizational tags:

#[nickname] the [pokemon] - General tag that will be used for posts mentioning certain pokemon!

#Kane's memos - Posts made by Kane!

#Hecate's giggling - Posts made by Hecate!

Arcs:

#Pokesitting for a Ghost - Semi-arc? Posts about Kane trying to care for @/battle-subway-ghost's pokemon, essentially.

[elysianymph]

going insane pls tell me anything about the unexplored sibling dynamics

i'm... literally so sorry anon. you probably didn't expect this monstrosity of text when you so innocently sent this ask but i wrote this late at night and i guess i had more feelings about these mfs than i thought i did... huh

the evans sisters?? stop and consider for a moment. they grew up in a lower middle class family, father was always out for work, mother stayed at home and took care of them and the house. lily and petunia were all for each other, sisters, best friends. and then lily's magic started showing. one year their mom's flowers hadn't bloomed like they usually do and their mom was understandably upset. petunia tried everything she knew about gardening in hopes of fixing the flowers and lily just willed them to open with the wave of a hand. she jumped up in excitement and ran to her mom to tell her what had just happened while petunia stared at the flowers in shock, trying to figure out what lily had just done so she could too. but it never worked for her like it did for lily.

their parents thought it was strange at first, a coincidence or dumb luck whenever lily pulled some trick, but petunia knew and she tried so hard to replicate it, to no avail. eventually the jealousy turned into resentment, curios questions turned into insults every time lily would do something. lily was so confused because she hadn't done anything? she tried to not do it anymore, even if she herself didn't know how she was doing it, but her magic only grew stronger and petunia's insults became more intense. when lily received her hogwarts letter, she was so excited to finally be surrounded by people like her. her parents congratulated her, her mother kissed her temple and her father promised they would take her shopping to get everything she needed. petunia only glared at her, muttering how she would finally be together with the freaks where she belonged.

petunia never sent any letters to lily while she was at hogwarts, at least not on her own accord. lily would send her birthday gifts every year, something she had made herself. a happy birthday card that was charmed to sing when it opened, a sparkling bouquet of flowers charmed to never close. every year without fail petunia would send the birthday gift back, either untouched or ripped to shreds. lily never gave up trying.

i genuinely believe lily's relationship with petunia fundamentally shaped her understanding of the world. the closest person to you, the one meant to protect you and love you, shunning you and leaving you to fend for yourself? it's no wonder lily clung to the first bit of kinship she sensed in severus and refused to let go of him even when everyone told her to. because he was always there for her and she wouldn't dare leave him behind (not like petunia had). also just a personal hc for lily, but i think she trouble making female friends specifically because of how her relationship with petunia had deteriorated. like in my head she had severus and no one else until like... fourth year maybe when she finally started coming out of her shell and became friends with mary and marlene

lily never stopped loving petunia, she knew harry would go to her and she still trusted petunia enough to protect her son. yet petunia did the exact opposite. i wanna put her under a microscope because how does it get that bad??? how do you let your childish jealousy take over your life to the point where you neglect and abuse an innocent child - your own nephew??? you don't stop being a sister just because the other half is dead, but i think petunia had stopped seeing herself as lily's sister long before lily died.

everyone talks about the black brothers but the black SISTERS??? arguably even more interesting bc you have more dynamics to explore bc they're all so different but in the end they're one in the same.

they were all raised to be obedient and quiet, their last name meaning nothing but an easy way to marry them off because continuing the bloodline was all they were good for. bellatrix was always loud, even as a child, because she was taught her family was superior and she couldn't understand why she wasn't treated the way she deserved to be. did her family name mean nothing just because she wasn't a male heir? did her extensive knowledge in magic mean nothing because the only way she could make her parents proud was by becoming a wife and a mother? why was she punished for the same behaviors her male counterparts were rewarded for? bella never thought to question blood purity as it was ingrained in her since birth, but the roles that she was forced to play didn't seem noble to her.

andromeda was quieter in comparison, but never far too behind bellatrix, always nodding along and eager to make her older sister proud. the seeds of doubt in her mind were planted later at hogwarts and she foolishly asks questions, only getting punished in response. when she's pushed away by her mother, she turns to the one person who would never hurt her for her curiosity but even her sister can give her no further answer than "father said so". frustrated and disappointed, andromeda closes in on herself and seeks her own answers, coming to conclusions that make the entire foundation of her family fall apart.

narcissa was the "perfect daughter", the one that would only speak when spoken to, the one that could walk into a room unnoticed and leave without anyone saying a single word to her. she was a slytherin, engaged to the malfoy heir at 16, she had practically completed all of her duties by then and proved to be useful. but she was also bella and andy's little sister, the one hiding behind them so no one could see her, the one tugging on their sleeves when she felt anxious, the one braiding flowers into their hair when she was bored, the one watching silently as both of her sisters drifted away and she was left alone.

andromeda leaving is such a heartbreaking moment to me because i think both bellatrix and narcissa knew it would happen, they had seen the signs but had never known the cause. i think bellatrix tried to to stop her from going through with it, tried to convince her to stay, to explain what was troubling her because bellatrix was her older sister, she could help, that was her job. and andromeda pushes her away because she knows bellatrix would never look at her again if she told her what was troubling her. when the truth is finally revealed, the only question bella can muster is: "do you trulu love him more than your own family?" and andromeda's silence is enough of an answer. she refuses to be like her mother, like bellatrix is soon to become, like narcissa will be forced to, a wife stuck in a loveless marriage with children she didn't want. ted loves her and she loves ted, that love means more than the conditional affections she was given in her family.

that action, the betrayal of choosing someone of dirty blood over her own sisters had surely left a mark on both bellatrix and narcissa. narcissa attempted to get closer to bellatrix again, tried to provide some comfort and familiarity but bellatrix was inconsolable. she fled england completely, choosing instead to focus on her magic as her mind slowly closed in on itself. and narcissa was left alone again, her only solace a marriage she forced herself to pretend would make her happy, would fill the void of what her sisters had destroyed.

and so many years later, you can tell the wound never closed. narcissa, who watched as everything unfolded without daring to interfere, looking the dark lord in the eyes and lying to protect her family because she understands andromeda now, nothing is worth losing the ones you love and the ones who love you. her son looks toward her for protection and she will provide it in any way she can, because her son's life means more than anything the dark lord could ever offer.

bellatrix, who has never dared to go against voldemort's orders, bending the rules and allowing narcissa to protect her son because somewhere in the back of her mind a voice whispered "what if she leaves like andromeda did? what if she chooses her new family over you too?" and narcissa did, she turned her back in the last battle and left without sparring a single glance.

i know people only made evan and pandora siblings out of convenience so they could give pandora a last name but YOU COWARDS! if you're gonna make them siblings then make them siblings!! i have an entire background on their family but that's too complicated to explain here but GIVE ME SOMETHING INTERESTING WITH THEM??? wartime rosier twins who never see each other but evan insists on writing letters bc he misses his sister so much?? pandora missing him too but she doesn't know what to do because the same hands that are writing these letters are holding innocent people at wand point and using unforgivable curses?? PANDORA'S REACTION TO EVAN'S DEATH??? helllooooo???

+ i know that the black brothers have been explored plenty but i still think their relationship has been softened?? ig. like we've stripped these characters down to their bare bones trying to make them good people when they don't need to be?? give me black brothers who love each other but hate each other all in the same breath. black brothers who strive to prove themselves better than the other. black brothers who see the other as a personification of their worst traits (sirius sees regulus as a coward (literally canon) and regulus sees sirius as a traitor). give me sibling resentment because i wholeheartedly believe they were pit against each other by walburga and orion.

sirius was smarter, better, more powerful, more charismatic than regulus. he was raised to he the perfect heir, the one to continue the bloodline of the most noble house, he was raised to think himself better than the rest. regulus was the spare, the 'worst case scenario' child, the one that struggled to live up to the fraction of his brother's natural talent and skill. give me sirius knowing he's better and throwing it in regulus' face. give me regulus manipulating sirius into leaving so he can be the true heir. give me regulus grieving for sirius only after he realizes what he has lost, but never reaching out, even when he finds the locket. regulus, who has spent his whole life trying to outshine sirius knowing it was a pointless battle, taking this one action into his own hands and doing the brave thing alone. give me sirius, almost two decades later, still bitter and disappointed as he passes by his dead brother's door refusing to even glance inside, because the resentment (and the grief of what could've been) never truly wears away.

anyone who read this far deserves a medal bc i would've taken one look at this post and said "i ain't reading all that" so thank you <3