#I will torture every Ghoul if it is the last thing I do

[ashthewaterghoul]

Give us the swissyy thoughts:3333

>:)

CW - Toxic family, substance abuse, sui-attempts and self-harm tendencies.

Below the cut because you get all the yaps... And there are many...

Okay! So, I hc that Multis are very rare. Especially Swiss who is an all element Multi. His strongest elements, in order, are Fire, Quintessence, Earth, Air, Water.

Elements have to come from the bio parents of a Ghoul so with Swiss being born to a family of pure Fire Ghouls… Yeah, he’s an illegitimate child.

His mother cheated on her mate, the father of Swiss’ half-siblings, with an all-element Multi. When all-element Multi has a kit with a single element Ghoul, it’s got a like 99% chance of just being the single element. But Swiss defied all odds and came out with every element. So, his mother’s mate obviously knew something had happened and Swiss was hated by everyone in his family for ruining it.

His infernal name he was born with translates to “The heaviest burden”.

His mother and her mate, Swiss’ step-dad technically, had another kit after he was born. One of those “let’s see if a baby helps” type of things but his parents were full of hate by that point, and they lived in spite of Swiss. He wasn't allowed near his little sister in fear that he would "taint" her and ruin her too.

Swiss as a kit was always trying to do anything he could with his Fire element to prove that he was just as good as his older siblings but he was always brushed away. There was many times he would heat himself up so much, to the point his skin would start burning. His parents would simply call him weak and kick him away.

He has no clue who his bio dad even is. All he was told was that he’s “a filthy half-breed like him”.

Multi’s are very lonely and shunned in the pits. So as soon as Swiss was able to hunt and forage for himself - which he had no guidance on and made himself go a fair few accidental mushroom induced drug trips - his parents kicked him out from the family and told him to never come back. He was 14.

Been as no other clans wanted him and he couldn’t get a job or anything, he turned to what most Multis usually have to do - using their body to get by. Multis have a reputation for being the horniest Ghouls but it's because they are presented no other choice. There was some encounters he enjoyed and was treated well, but many were essentially business transactions…

He only knew how to use his body and he kept that going when he was summoned too.

Sex essentially became a self-harm tool for him. Sometimes he would ask for a Ghoul to hunt him for the rough and feral sex he'd get from it after. Sometimes he would put himself in free-use situations because he felt the mental hurt from it. There was a few other ways too, but it was mainly stuff like that.

He only actually enjoyed sex with his pack, but he always found himself with Siblings and Clergy and plenty of people he didn't actually want. In the pits, he had a habit of using what they have in the way of intoxication to cope, and he did the same on Earth too.

Been as he was always raised being told he was useless, he always tried to be useful. He does have a very sweet and caring side to him but he rarely shows it, rather he lets himself be passed around because he is helping - he's helping people blow off some steam and frustration, or helping someone discover something new and helping people learn their limits better.

He knew it was unhealthy, he knew he hated himself for it all.

As well as using sex as self-harm, he did claw himself too. In the pits, it was nearly anywhere he could reach. After being summoned. He stays on his upper arms and thighs so it never shows when he has his uniform sleeves rolled up, and tries to glamour it all away as much as he can anyway.

His really bad spirals end up with him clawing across his chest.

He's definitely had a few attempts too. There's been two times he tried, one time he contemplated but was found before he could decide either way, and a fourth time where everything once again felt hopeless and he started thinking but then there was two new summonings announced. And something in Swiss' gut told him he should stick around for that...

[winchestersisterimaginessss]

Request: you know the episode 4.19 where Sam and Dean get a call from their supposed half brother and their rightfully suspicious and it ends up being a hunt for them? What about instead of Sam getting tied down and bled it’s their baby sister? She’s small and young and definitely shouldn’t be losing this much blood, she can’t even lift herself up after Sam and Dean manage to free her. Pls and thank you!

Request: I have a request on s4 e19 when Sam gets tortured by the ghouls. Can you reverse the roles with Winchester sister? No rush do whenever you want. Just remember to take breaks and drink water! Bye! :)

Sam and Dean Winchester x Sister!Reader

Warnings: Extreme Blood Loss

A/N: Please let me know if you like this because it helps motivate me to write more lol! Requests are open and if I haven’t gotten to yours yet feel free to request again because I have over 200 requests and I’m working on a bunch. You can request anything and everything I don’t care and I will never get annoyed!!

“Okay we’ve closed off every other way into the house.” You said to Adam, looking at the last tunnel in the house that wasn’t closed off. “If this thing is coming, it’s coming through here.” You finished at the same time as a door creaked through the house. Your attention immediately snapped towards the noise.

“You were saying?” Adam asked and you looked back towards him.

“Adam!” You heard from the other room and your heart sank.

“Adam!” It cried again, but before you could make your next move Adam was already calling back out.

“Mom?” Adam yelled, ready to run.

“No!” You tried to stop him, but he didn’t listen.

“Mom!” He yelled out and pushed past you.

“Adam!” You shouted after him, getting your gun ready. You ran down the steps after him trying to get him to stop.

“Mom?” You heard him sigh in relief.

“Adam no wait!” You cried out and rounded the corner to see Adam and the monster.

“It took me, but I got away.” It cried as Adam embraced her.

“Adam, step away from it.” You screamed with your gun pointed.

“Y/N, what the hell?” He shouted at you, confused.

“It’s not your mother!” You tried to reason with him.

“Adam, who—what is going on?” The monster cried.

“Get away from him!” You yelled at it starting to feel hopeless.

“What is going on?” It cried.

“You listen to me. It’s really her, okay?” Adam said, pushing it behind him.

“There was too much blood, your mother’s dead. There was too much blood in the vents!” You yelled trying to quickly explain before he snatched the gun out of your hand.

“Adam!” It cried.

“Shoot it!” You screamed, now terrified of the predicament you were both in.

“He’s crazy, it’s me!” It yelled in protest of the gun being pointed at it and immediately Adam pointed the gun back at you.

“Look—Adam!” You cried.

“It’s me!” It said.

“That’s not your mother!” You screamed trying to save the both of you and make him understand that his mother was not his mother and in fact the monster they were hunting. He flipped the gun back on the monster.

“Shoot it! It’s not human!” You yelled, trying to get through to him.

“I know.” He smirked, turning to face you. You had no time to be confused with what the hell was happening before he hit you with the butt of the gun and everything went black.

——-

You woke up to humming and noticed you were tied down to a table. You started struggling to get yourself out, but to no avail.

“Silver. No need none of the tests worked. You’re not shapeshifters. You’re ghouls.” You sneered, staring at Adam’s fake mom.

“You know, I find that term racist.” She replied with a knife in her hand.

“Huh.” You said with attitude, rolling your eyes. You tried to free yourself once more when she came to you sniffing you and biting your ear.

“Ew! Get away you weirdo freak!” You yelled. You had quite a bad problem with bad mouthing monsters and it always ended up biting you in the butt.

“Fresh meat. So much better than what we’re used to.” She grinned.

“Oh I should’ve known. It was the fresh kills that threw me. Ghouls don’t usually go after the living because you’re all just disgusting, filthy, nasty, trash pickers, taking form of the last corpse you choke down like a scavenger.” You sneered, again with the name calling. She was lucky you had to get to the point because you were just going to go on and on with all the negative words in the dictionary.

“And their thoughts, and their memories. Like Adam for instance.” Fake Adam said, walking into the room.

“Yeah well we are what we eat.” She chuckled.

“You’re pathetic monsters.” You said with disgust. Fake Adam sliced your one arm open and you let out a groan. His fake mom immediately went to licking the blood.

“That was for calling us pathetic.” Adam said.

“Yeah I’d call you a lot more than that. Do you have time?” You asked sarcastically, still struggling to get away.

“You know you use that word a lot, Y/N. Monsters.” Fake Adam said and brought the knife down on the table missing you by just an inch.

“But I don’t think you know what it means.” He finished as his fake mom continued to lick the blood pouring out of your arm.

“Her blood—it tastes different.” She said in confusion.

“Our father was a monster? Why? Because of what he ate? He never hurt anyone, Y/N. Living anyway.” Fake Adam smirked and grabbed the knife.

“No he was no monster. But the thing that killed him was. A monster named John Winchester.” Adam’s fake mom said trickling the knife up and down your body. Fake Adam stuck his fingers into the wound on your side and you cried out in pain.

“Thanks to your daddy, my brother and I, grew up on our own.” She explained as he twisted his finger deeper into your side and you let out a scream.

“At least we had each other.” She finished. He took his finger out of your wound and licked the blood off of it.

“Like you and your brothers— inseparable.” He said.

“Actually it was very hard to get you on your own. Your brothers are almost always keeping you out of harms way. Awww how protective.” She said sarcastically.

“So we figured instead of killing all of you, why not just kill you? They would suffer way more knowing that their wittle baby sister is dead.” He said in a fake sad voice.

“Go to hell.” You managed to get out.

“Like you said, Y/N, the only thing you can count on is family.” He said as she sucked more blood out of your arm.

“And for 20 years, we lived like rats. Graveyard after graveyard, all that stinking flesh. And then we thought hey why not move up to the fresher game?” She said.

“And we knew just where to start.” He smirked and started carving on your other arm. You cried out in pain and felt the world fading around you.

“Revenge— it’s never over, is it, Y/N?” He asked, still carving around your arm.

“First, it was John’s cop friend, and then his slut and then his son.” She said twirling her knife around.

“Then I called John, but the son of a bitch was already dead.” Adam sighed, disappointed.

“So I guess you will have to do instead.” She said, petting the side of your face.

“And they won’t interrupt us this time. We’re gonna feed on you nice and slow— like we did with Adam.” He said.

“Oh and by the way, he really was your brother. You should know that.” She grinned. You struggled against the ropes that tied you down, trying anything to escape.

“He was still alive when we took our first bites.” He smiled.

“And he was a screamer!” She said before she sliced your entire forearm. Fake Adam followed after her and sliced your arm again. You screamed in pain and thrashed. You could feel the blood pooling out of your body and you could hear it dripping into the bowls. The way it flowed like a waterfall made you feel absolutely sick. You knew you were going to bleed out and that you didn’t have much time left.

“Y/N, the more you struggle, the faster you’re going to bleed out. So you might as well lie back and relax.” Adam said as you whined and whimpered, trying to stay awake.

“Hey!” You heard Dean scream and a shot ring out.

“Dean, they’re ghouls-“ You tried screaming, but you were so weak it came out as a whisper. You knew Dean heard you though because another shot rung out.

“Which means headshot.” He said as Sam came stumbling into the room.

“Y/N!” He yelled before he was taken down by fake Adam and thrown through the glass doors. Dean immediately followed suit as you groaned and cried out. Your breaths were becoming rapid and shorter. You didn’t have enough energy to pick up your head to see the fight going down. It felt like forever before you saw blurry figure walk back into the room. Not knowing who it was, you tried to get your body to move. You felt like you had a fifty pound weight holding your body down.

“No!” You whimpered weakly, knowing you had no fight left in you.

“Hey, hey, hey, hey, it’s Sam, sweetheart. I got you, you’re safe.” You heard Sam and felt him cup your cheeks to get your attention.

“S‘mmy.” You slurred.

“Yeah, hey bug, it’s me, I got you.” Sam said softly trying to comfort you, knowing that it was bad.

“Dean, she’s freezing cold.” Sam cried out trying to stay calm.

“Shit.” Dean said panicking. You felt the rope being cut off of your one wrist and you groaned out in pain.

“I know kid, I know. Hang in there for me okay?” Dean said, knowing that it was painful, but it had to be done. He started cutting the other one on your wrist while Sam started on your ankles. You felt your heart racing, your body sweating and your skin clammy. You could barely hang on to consciousness and your body felt weighed down by a million weights.

“Mmm scared.” You slurred looking into the blurriness of your brothers.

“You’re going to be okay sweetheart alright? You’re going to be fine. Just keep talking to us okay?” Sam asked, now full on panicking, but trying to keep you calm. You knew that something wasn’t right. This was too much blood and you weren’t sure if you were going to be okay. You let a few tears slide down your cheeks as you struggled to catch your breath.

“No, no, no. You’re going to be okay, alright? I won’t let anything happen to you.” Dean said noticing your tears. He quickly placed rags on your forearms and held them tight to stop the bleeding. You cried out in pain and tried to pull away when you felt him putting pressure on them.

“I know kid, I know. I’m sorry.” Dean said clenching his jaw. Sam made his next move by helping you sit up, but your body felt like jelly. You couldn’t lift yourself up as your head lobbed to the side of you. This feeling absolutely terrified you and left your body trembling in fear. The impending doom was taking over and it was paralyzing you. As your brothers scrambled around you trying to support your body, they urgently discussed their next steps in helping you when you interrupted.

“Mm I going to die?” You whispered weakly, blinking away the dots that clouded your vision. Scared that if you closed them, you wouldn’t open them again.

“HEY, HEY!” Dean yelled and tapped your face. Your eyes snapped wide open and your body trembled uncontrollably as you whimpered in fear.

“You’re not going to die. Do you hear me? Just keep those eyes open for me, alright?” Dean asked with fear in his own eyes, but when he looked into yours he was met with confusion.

“Wh-what?” You started. In an instant, you were confused. Where were you? What happened?

“De?” You called out for your eldest brother, the one who took care of you your entire life. The one who was always there for you when you called.

“Yeah I’m here baby, I’m here.” He said. Baby? He only called you that when something serious was happening. You finally took in your surroundings and saw yourself covered in blood as your brothers worked around you.

“What happened!” You cried out, completely confused and dazed.

“Relax sweetheart, you’re going to be okay, alright? You’re going to be okay.” You heard Sam say as he lifted your body off of the table. You grunted in pain, but your body only grew heavier.

“There’s too much blood!” Dean cried.

“I know, I know!” Sam yelled in frustration.

It felt like time was skipping because the next thing you knew, you were in the impala. You glanced to your right and noticed your dad.

“Dad?” You asked, fuzzily. Dean immediately looked towards Sam who glanced down towards you.

“She’s hallucinating Dean, she’s lost too much blood.” Sam said stealing a concerned glance towards his brother. Dean gripped the steering wheel tight and cursed silently, speeding faster.

“Dad, I missed you.” You cried, which caused Dean to completely break.

“Hey baby, no, dad’s not here, alright? Dad’s not here.” He said weakly, completely terrified of his sister’s state.

“Mmm t’red.” You said weakly, the heaviness and the blood loss making their last round on you.

“Hey, hey, hey, hey, sweetheart, you’ve gotta stay awake.” Sam said urgently, but you didn’t listen and closed your eyes in exhaustion.

“Keep your eyes open please!” Sam cried out and tapped your face. It had no effect on you as you slipped into unconsciousness.

———

You jumped awake to a beeping noise in a complete panic. You were in a daze and physically couldn’t lift yourself up which made you panic more.

“Hey, you’re okay, you’re okay.” You heard Dean say, but the beeping noise only got faster. You were in total confusion and couldn’t make out where you were.

“Relax for me kid, you’re alright.” You heard Dean again and this time felt a hand placed on you. You groggily looked around and saw that you were in a hospital room. You immediately went into an intense shiver unsure if it was from how cold you were or if it was from the nerves that just overcame you. Dean cupped the side of your face, no doubt feeling your body tremor.

“You’re okay.” He said softly, giving you a reassuring nod.

“So cold.” You made out and he sent you a sad look.

“Alright, let me go find a nurse and get you some more blankets.” He replied hesitantly unsure if he wanted to leave you alone when Sam walked into the room with coffee. Sam’s immediate sigh of relief when he saw you awake and his glance towards Dean made you realize how serious whatever happened to you was. Dean left the room and Sam walked towards you.

“Hey sweetheart.” He said softly, sitting in front of you.

“Sammy.” You smiled weakly and tried to reach out to him. He immediately got the hint and took your hands into his.

“I’m here.” He said gently and rubbed his fingers on your hand.

“I’m so weak.” You mumbled, trying to understand why your body felt so heavy.

“What happened?” You whispered, not remembering anything that took place. Sam’s face fell and his eyes filled with sorrow.

“The ghouls had you bleeding out and when we got to you it was almost too late. You were so pale and you were ice cold. You were so cold bug, it terrified me.” Sam said, looking away and trying to collect himself.

“There was blood everywhere, we weren’t even sure how you were alive at that point. Then you started hallucinating and went unconscious. We thought we lost you, God we were so scared.” He said, shedding a tear and quickly wiping it before it could drop.

“We rushed you to the hospital, not knowing if you were even alive and waited around for hours not hearing anything. Then the doctor came out and told us you were stabilized, but lost 35% of your blood. He said you should’ve died and that it was nothing less of a miracle.” He said as his voice cracked.

“You were in a coma for two weeks.” He explained quietly, knowing this was going to freak you out.

“I’ve been out for two weeks?!” You asked, hysterically.

“They said it could’ve been up to a couple months, we just weren’t sure when you’d wake up.” He said as you just stared blankly at him.

“We were so terrified to lose you. Dean even prayed a few times.” He finished. You both knew that Dean never prayed and he never believed that there was a God out there so the fact that it got to the point where Dean was praying, made you extremely emotional. The tears started streaming down your face.

“I’m so sorry Sammy, I should’ve known it was a trap.” You cried, feeling terrible and guilty that your brothers had to be put through something so traumatic because of your own mistake.

“Sweetheart, no, it’s not your fault. Me and Dean should’ve never left you alone with Adam. We weren’t thinking and it almost cost you your life.” Sam said, staring into your eyes and wiping your tears. Before you could say something back, the door opened. Dean, a few nurses and a doctor walked in. They checked your vitals and explained that you were going to be very weak for about a month. You had iron deficiency anemia due to the blood loss and it would take a long time for you to start feeling normal again. They left the room and Dean put the extra blankets that they brought in on top of you. The weight and coziness of the blankets made you immediately feel tired. Your brothers took notice and Dean kissed the side of your head.

“Get some rest kid, we’ll be here.” Dean reassured.

“Thank you for saving me.” You smiled softly looking between your brothers.

“Always.” Dean said as Sam grabbed your hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

[coopersmilkshake]

Million Dollar Man (Ghoul Cooper Howard x wasteland reader)

Part One of Million Dollar Man

Rating: Angst | Sexual Innuendos | Assault | Violence | Cursing | Torture | Fluff

Summary: A girl born of the wastelands finds an unlikely partnership in a man who still follows a shadow of himself… And though being in love was in your cards, it wasn’t in his. But you know what they say, you don’t know what you have lost until it’s gone.

You were raised in the wastelands.

Used to the scorching heat of the sun, the lack of water and the bitter chill of the night air, but you weren’t miserable because you had them, your family. Wonderful and chaotic as they were. They were your home and gave you a reason to wake up. They were there until one day… They weren’t. Taken from you by the cruelty of the desert lands, by men who wore metal with a fake code of honor.

And for the first time in your life… You were alone.

You trudged through the sands, dragging your feet, face fallen and life barely clinging to your hollow shell. You felt as lost as the tumbleweeds that rolled from the warm breeze.

You thought you would be on your own forever and then suddenly you weren’t.

You haven’t know him for long, Cooper Howard he called himself. His radiating red skin and puppy eyes that could do some damage if he stared long enough. You didn’t even think he liked your company, as unannounced in his life as you were.

“You… You saved me.” The words came out in a form of confusion and awe. Your shirt was ripped down your shoulder and blood dripped from your nose, “Why?”

“You told him no, that’s word alone is enough sweetheart.” He replied and then he was gone, walking out of town, his spurs clicking with every step.

You followed after him with no thought and only the clinging feeling of hope in someone that wasn’t as cruel as the dessert.

“Why you followin me?” He never looked back, you never even realized he knew you were following him. You thought you were being careful. Apparently not.

“You’re a bounty hunter.” You spoke, not slowing down in your pace.

“Do you have work for me then?” He stopped walking and turned to face you.

Heat rose to your cheeks, “No but—“

He raised his non existent eyebrow, “Look here sweetheart, you look about one short dime away from kickin the bucket.” He stated as a matter of fact, “Why don’t you go die somewhere else.”

“I… I want you to mentor me.” You spoke quickly, “I want to be a bounty hunter like you.”

He laughed at that, a forced and gruff one as he shook his head at the absurd idea, “No.”

“Please—“ You pleaded, “I’m not a child. I can hold my own weight. And I’m good at scavenging for things. I can be useful to you.”

He cut you off with a scoff, “You’d do better as someone’s pretty wife. Now scram.”

“But—” You pulled out your last resort, “I have caps. You can have them all, please.” You held out a hefty bag of caps in his direction, “Please.” Your hope was dwindling but you refused to give up. You needed to learn how to be strong on your own and becoming a bounty hunter will help you do just that.

His defeated sigh gave you the answer that you needed.

And so never did scram, years later you were still clinging to him like a lost puppy. At least that was how he referred to you, a lost kicked puppy. A reckless and softhearted woman he spent most of his nights in bed with for the past three years.

“Your hat… Have you always had it?” You words were as soft as the low crackling of fire against the setting sun. You had stolen the cowboy’s hat hours ago and wore it proudly on your head. It was a feeling that you would take to your grave, but you thought wearing his precious hat meant that you belonged to him just as much as he belonged to you… You hoped at least.

Cooper grunted his answer, a short nod as he stoked the fire. You became a good bounty hunter with time, albeit a little clumsy and short sighted at most, you were a good shot and you watched his back. Something that he hasn’t had in over two hundred years.

You moved to sit in his lap in hopes to get his mind off of whatever he has be thinking about for the past hour, “It looks good on you.” That brought a smirk to his face, something that you inwardly congratulated yourself for, “But you would look good in anything… Or without.” You mumbled softly as you brushed your lips against his.

He pulled you closer by your waist and kissed you like a starving man in the dessert, something that he was very familiar with. As he kissed you, he took his hat back and placed it on his head.

You hummed happily as you pulled back from his intense kiss, “What are you thinking about cowboy?”

“Nothin you need to worry yourself with darlin.” He replied in the seductive drawl of his. It always had your knees shaking when he dropped his voice down a notch.

You hummed decided not to press him about it. He will tell you when he’s ready. Instead, you pressed light kisses all over his face, a perk that you have been able to get away with recently… Another win under your belt.

“Well, I have been doing some thinking recently.” You spoke lightly.

“That ain’t good.” He teased moving his lips to your neck.

“Oh hush.” You smacked his chest lightly causing him to grin.

“I’ve been thinking about your age and I think I figured it out.” You mused wrapping your arms around his neck and playing with the back of his collared shirt.

A soft chuckle left his lips as he pulled back and placed his hands on your hips, “Really now? And what did ya figure out darlin?”

“Your mannerisms gave it away over time.” You peered up at him with a smile, “You act tough and violent, but you weren’t raised that way.” You explained with a thoughtful look on your face, “It’s in your eyes really, they become soft when you think no one is watching you…” You held his cheek and gently traced his cheek bone with your thumb, “Your gentle and you still care about things, I would like to hope that would include me because you are all that I care about.” You chuckled as you moved your hands to the top button of his shirt, “I’ve never felt this way about anyone before until I met you all those years ago.”

You didn’t notice the way his head tilted down to hide his darkening expression, “But I am pretty confident in my deduction skills that you were here before the bombs. Before this place turned into a wasteland… I bet it was beautiful then with colors and life when there were such things as meadows…” You muttered as you traced your fingers lightly over the exposed skin on his chest. He didn’t speak up, but that was something you were used to. He was always the quiet one while you talked his ear off.

“Why I bet you were a million dollar man.” You joked with a lovesick smile, “But I hope one day that we could find a place like that to settle down.” You rant about the daydreams you’ve been having lately, “Maybe we could find and raise these birds I saw in a book about farms once… I think they were called chickens? I would love to live that life with you because I love you.” You giggled lightly in thought as you waited for him to speak, “But I’m right aren’t I? About your age?” You smiled waiting for him to join in on your little dreams.

You didn’t expect the rough shove that sent you crashing into the ground beside him. Your head had hit against one of the stones on the ground cause you to gasp in pain as you stared up at the stars confused and hurt. Had you gone too far? Did you offend him somehow?

“Coop?” Your head spun as you carefully looked towards him, “I… Didn’t… I’m sorry.”

“What are you doing?” He asked, his accent twinged with a hint of disgust.

You flinched at his harsh tone. You slowly sat up and rubbed rubbed the back of your head, “What?”

“You really thought it was a good idea to spill all that shit onto me?” He scoffed.

“I don’t understand? It was just a thought… We don’t have to raise chickens…” You spoke timidly wondering if he may have had a farm in his life before…

“It’s not about the damn chickens!” His voice boomed and you sucked in a breathe.

You felt lost, not sure where everything had went wrong. He was fine just a second ago, “Did I… Say something wrong? I know we haven’t verbally said I love you, but we’ve been together for so long, I just couldn’t help but say it because I—”

You yelped as he dragged you to him by the ankle. He was on you in an instant, hovering over you as he wrapped his large hands around your throat and squeezed. You couldn’t take your eyes off of the way he looked at you with such anger. You had seen this look before to others, but never you.

“You don’t love me sweetheart.” He sneered, “And I sure as hell don’t love you.”

Well that hurt… More than you cared to admit to yourself.

“But— I do love you—” You gasped out as you struggled in his grip, “I would do anything for you… and I know you love me too! You wouldn’t fuck me if you didn’t!”

His snarky laugh made your stomach turn with unease and dread, “Honey I’ve fucked a whole lotta women for less.” He tightened his grip around your throat with a sneer, “You don’t know me.”

You clawed at his wrists as he squeezed tighter, restricting you from air, “Loved— Three years— I kno— you.”

His voice grew darker as he spoke, “You really expect me to care for you sweetheart? Settle down with what… You? To live some fucking fairytale farm life with a bunch of chickens?”

“Y-yes?” Tears sprung to your eyes at his hurtful words, “I love you.” You gasped out again trying to convince him of your truth, “Cooper please—” But he wasn’t listening to you.

You felt yourself begin to fade and a red blearing flight began to set off in your brain as you kicked him as hard as you could.

That seemed to work as he fell off of you and you sat up gasping for air as tears streamed down your face. You didn’t get much of a chance to collect yourself before he was lunging at you again with a knife gripped firmly in his hand.

Your eyes widened as you turned and tried to move, struggling to get up. Your hands clawed at the sand to get away from him, but tripping over yourself did nothing to stop the knife tearing into your leg. Your scream echoed into the dessert as you curled up into yourself when you felt him hover over you. You didn’t know what stopped him from tearing into your neck like an unhinged ghoul. Maybe it was your scream, or the tears, or the way you shook in fear. Something made him stop, something that had him hover over you as his hot breath hid your skin. It was a silent pause before he spoke.

“I have spent two hundred years looking for my family…” He admitted to you for the first time, it made your heart stop beating in your chest, “For my wife… And not even you will keep me from that.” He muttered lowly and you could feel your entire world around you fall to pieces with him, “I did want to raise chicken once.”

You hated the way he laughed at the thought, it felt cruel.

“Live my life on a farm with my daughter… With her… Not you.” He pushed himself off of you, his back turned towards the fire.

That broke you.

There was a pause that made you wish he would just end your misery now, kill you so you wouldn’t have to feel this pain any longer. You couldn’t bear the pain he was feeding you, you didn’t want to.

“You’re not her.” He spoke quietly with words that tore into your heart in two, worse than what the knife embedded in your skin had done, “And you never will be.”

You didn’t move as he got up and walked away. Your eyes just squeezed shut to avoid seeing the disgusted look he gave you earlier, a look that you never tho if he you would see on a man who you thought loved you as well... You felt… Empty. As if a part of you was ripped from your body and burned in front of your eyes. Everything you were breathed Cooper Howard and he didn’t even…

It was silent for the next hour except for the dying crackling of the fire and your sniffles as you cried. Blood flowed from your leg leaving you lightheaded with each passing minute and you knew he wouldn’t think to take care of it. Why would he? He was the one stabbed you… You never imagined that he would… Yes he was cruel and down right hideous to others, but never to you… Never like that. The feeling made you want to throw up. Your mama’s words echoed loudly in your ear like a bell. Never trust a shadow of a man.

You sat up slowly, flinching from the pain as you assessed your wound. Cooper was lying across from you, his back turned from you. He wasn’t moving and you were scared to make any more noise in case it would set him off. You took the collar of your shirt and bit down on it as you gripped the handle. You winced, groaning in pain as you swiftly tugged the knife out. It hurt, but not as much as your heart did as you struggled to clean and stitch up your wound on your own.

You had only ever tended to superficial wounds your siblings would get when they were alive, but never on yourself… Cooper always did that for you…

Your hands shook from the shocks of pain rippling through your body, but it was the last stitch that had your eyes rolling back as you hit the ground, darkness consuming your vision as you faded into a state nothing.

You never felt the faint feeling of a hand pressing gently against your leg.

[cheesus-doodles]

Wish

Reincarnation AU! Yandere Gojo

Masterlist | Reincarnation AU Masterlist

found myself in kind of a slump just trying to write anything, please have this in the meantime - will also be trying to answer some asks soon while i work on the longer pieces

‎‎‎

tw: violence against reader, mentions of torture, blood, dead dove do not eat

I'll grant any wish you have. That deceptively loving coo was something you had heard countless times before, combined with a gentle comb of his hand through your locks.

Sure, Gojo, would come your predicable reply, complete with a roll of your eyes, before you go back to whatever it was you did for work.

Good looks, money, power - Gojo Satoru always had had the world at his fingertips. And it would have all been yours, everything mortal possession he owned. He hadn't even asked for much in return, just your utter and completely loyalty and obedience to him. In exchange for the sun and moon, any wish that you had granted at the drop of a hat, that much seemed like a rather paltry price to pay, Gojo would think.

Yet here he was, the sorcerer mused, as he drove another nail straight into your shin almost absentmindedly, the spurt of blood that came rocketing out a tantalising shade of crimson. Your shaky gaze shot up to meet his instantly, pupils completely constricted as tears were forced from the corners of painful red eyes; your cries and whimpers had long died away despite your current obvious suffering, raw throat having lost its ability to produce any sound louder than a grunt.

Leaning over to peer down at you with those infinite crystal eyes, Gojo didn't seem the slightest bit affected by your twisted expression. "See anything yet?" The question was followed by a giggle, the look on your face already telling the man everything he needed to know. Despite your understandable fear of him, you still showed no sign of recognition of the presence of curses all around you, and that was unacceptable.

He did need to make absolute sure that you had complete belief in souls that you could reincarnate back as a curse after all, and there was no way better way than to let you see one for yourself. Some real-life ghouls would definitely make quick work of turning a disbeliever into a believer.

‎‎‎

The night outside was quiet, the ominous heavy clouds that threatened to spill at any given moment a perfect reflection of your current grim predicament. Picking up another nail, Gojo made sure to show it to you before he selected a new spot for his gruesome art, this time driving it into the top of your arm with a whistle.

He didn't want to do this, the white-haired man assured himself, that much he would swear to anyone that would care long enough to listen. Out of all the souls that roamed this mortal plane, you were the last one that he wanted to hurt, let alone kill. Not his beloved darling, his soulmate. But you left him no choice. He simply couldn't let you go, not with the way you lived in his head rent free, haunting his every thought.

Maybe, perhaps if you had been a sorcerer in this life, things would have turned out differently. You would have looked up to him as the world's most powerful sorcerer, would have been taken in by his abilities and the weighty clan name attached.

But that was fine.

"Don't worry," the man patted your mangy hair, gently rubbing two matted locks of hair apart between his fingers. "Everything'll be fine."

It'll hurt for now, that much was certain, but your pain and suffering wouldn't be for naught. Being on death's door was one way for normals to see curses, and he would make sure that your agony would be over quickly.

Taking a glance up at the starry sky that blanketed the empty skyline, Gojo breathed, the fresh air a welcome change from the iron scent of stale blood that clad his clothes. You only ever made a single teasing wish of being immortal to him before, over a cup of coffee at a cafe, before you laughed it off - and you had never made another wish after that. But Gojo was benevolent.

Once your soul was reincarnated as a curse, he was sure he could find some old tool in the depths of his clan's treasuries to force you back into your old body and grant your wish. Plus, it would be so much easier to bind you to him when you weren't quite human, and you could spend the eternity of your next life with him.

Win-win.

[mllemaenad]

Hm. Blight.

The thing about Blight is that it shapes the world. It shapes people into ghouls and broodmothers, and through procreation into darkspawn. It shapes the landscape with its black tendrils and bulbous growths. It notoriously ruins the fertility of the soil, and creates deserts where there was once farmland.

It also sings. That's one of the first things we learn about it. And every darkspawn, bar the Awakened, is consumed by the Song. Darkspawn are, of course, people, and their reaction to events differs on a case-by-case basis, but we know from the Mother that the song can act as a kind of anaesthetic. She was unable to survive what was done to her without it.

We can tie this to the experience of the Tranquil. I keep coming back, again and again, to Pharamond's description:

I find it ironic the Rite of Tranquility cuts one off from the land of dreams. because a dream is exactly what it feels like. Everything in a dream is as it should be, nothing is out of place … yet part of you knows something is not right. This isn't your home, this isn't your life … it isn't you. – Dragon Age: Asunder

Everything is right, but everything is also wrong at the same time. I also think of the text from Eddin the Meek:

Some laugh at me. I no longer mind. Once upon a time, I studied as they did. I learned under the tutelage of an enchanter and attempted to master the art of bending magic to my will, and while I did well enough, I know that I struggled. I saw the way the enchanter looked at me, the sidelong glances of worry and disappointment. While other apprentices were conjuring fire, I could barely light a candle. I was frightened of magic. When I was a boy, my grandmother regaled me with tales of the terrible Flemeth, the Witch of the Wilds. She told me of the magisters and how their evil magic infected the world with the darkspawn. She told me of demons, and how they were drawn to the dreams of those who possessed magic like moths to a flame. She told me all these things because, she said, the talent ran in our family's blood. And so it ran in mine. All my young life I had dreaded the thought, prayed to the Maker that I was not so cursed, but I knew otherwise. Deep in my heart, I knew. When the templars came to our home, I knew. The mages' tower was terrifying, full of secrets and danger. The templars glared at me as if I could spring full into an abomination before their very eyes. My enchanter patiently attempted to teach me to marshal my willpower, my only defense should a demon attempt to enslave me, but it was no use. How many nights did I cry myself to sleep in that dark and lonely place? Then my Harrowing came at last, my final test. Face a demon, they said, or submit to the Rite of Tranquility. They would sever my connection to the Fade, and thus I would never dream and no demon could ever touch me—but I would also be unable to do magic, and I would never feel an emotion ever again. Facing the demon was certain death, so my choice was easy. It was not so painful. Now I serve in other ways. We Tranquil manage the archives. We run the tower, purchase the supplies and maintain the accounts. Our condition also allows us to use the magical element lyrium without ill effect, and thus we are the ones who enchant the magical items. We are the merchants who sell these items to those the Circle permits, and the coin from those sales provides the Circle's wealth. Thus, we Tranquil are vital. The young and old may stare at me, ill at ease, but they would be worse off without me. They may think me a failure, but there is no horror for me now. I feel no fear of what I am. The shadows are merely shadows, and I am content. —Eddin the Meek, Tranquil of the Circle of Magi of Starkhaven, the Free Marches. – Journal of the Tranquil

Tranquility is generally described as torture, but some people who have undergone it, especially those who have been traumatised in some other way, believe that, like the Mother, they would not survive a cure. Avexis, in Inquisition, also believes she would not survive the reversal of her Tranquility.

Darkspawn operate as something like ... proxy bodies for the dreams of the Tranquil Titans. Tranquil mages are described as being like sleepwalkers, and I think you could reasonably describe darkspawn the same way. They are both lulled and compelled by the Song, and as Pharamond puts it "Yet [they] cannot act other than the dream allows. It follows its course, and [they] follow it believing nothing is real". A darkspawn may be cured of its condition (at least mentally) by a form of the Joining. Whether or not they can survive that cure is a separate question.

Cool.

But I also think about demons. Specifically about abominations. Or, well, to be really specific, about this:

That does not look exactly like a darkspawn, no. But there's a certain similarity there. When a demon decides to consume its host it also produces a distorted horror of what once was.

And a demon is a spirit that has been perverted from its purpose. It is also a being in distress, although it may not be able to articulate that. If things have gone this far, the demon is lashing out in helpless misery.

Which brings me back to the top. Blight shapes the world, and Blight sings. Titans also shape the world, and Titans sing. Isatunoll, as Harding is learning.

Blight operates like a Titan forcibly removed from its purpose. It acts with the will of a Titan, but distorted into horrors and destruction. It acts like a demon.

The distinction between living being and spirit is increasingly muddy: spirits can clearly become living beings – the elves did it. Do the souls of the dead become spirits? Unclear, but a possible theory among the mortalitasi. And Cole, of course, who is simultaneously a spirit of Compassion and a dead human boy brought back to life.

And Titans? Well, they are the pillars of the earth, but they are also magic incarnate – lyrium makes magic, and magic is a connection to the Fade. So they are, or were, simultaneously of the waking world and the Fade.

But there is a physicality to them that is not present in spirits. Lyrium is their blood, and it brims with magic. But it's a real material that you can mine and touch (although don't touch it if you'd like your brain to keep working). And Blight ... Blight is almost like ... bacteria? Perhaps a poor analogy, but as close as I can come.

The Taint has a real, physical presence in the world that is independent of other beings – although it can infect other beings. Like bacteria.

Isseya had this problem.

And it was her fault. Isseya still didn't understand exactly how or why, but she knew that it was so. The scarlet sickness that was overcoming the griffons was tied to the ritual she'd imposed on some of the fighting birds during the Blight ... but she didn't fully understand what it was doing to them, or how it was spreading, and she had no inkling of how to effect a cure. If it were a real disease, then their bloody spume might be the means of transmission. But it wasn't a real disease. Was it? How could it be, when she'd made it? – Dragon Age: Last Flight

Her Joining ritual failed, yes: instead of producing the resistance you get in Grey Wardens, it made griffons more susceptible to the Blight, and allowed it to spread more easily. But she didn't make a disease. Blight already acts like a disease. How do you catch Blight? From contact with the Taint, either in an infected person (like darkspawn) or from the environment.

The bodies of the Titans have magical properties – they might even be magic incarnate. The dreams of the Titans, tormented into violence by Tranquility, are a physical presence in the world, which mimic a sickness to produce their horrors.

They are backwards to what you see elsewhere: here is a person – they are solid presence in the world, but their mind travels to the Fade in dreams. Here is a spirit – they are imbued with magic, but lack a physical presence unless they possess something.

It feels like ... a fascinating look at what the world might be like if the Veil came down. A world where those rules simply don't apply.

[forlorn-crows]

crow I'm going to bite you so damn hard for that swissalps thought I swear

you'll just have to keep biting me i guess. rambling essentially co-written by @askingforthesun bc we wouldn't shut up about it last night

[continuation of this post]

Swiss kneeling between his legs, keeping them open so he can see mountain clench around nothing. Mountain dripping and whining and wriggling bc he wants more, but oh, swiss is nothing but a menace. Big hands on mountains thighs while he stretches him open and mountain is panting and making the loveliest sounds. Moans and hiccups and whines that go through the break in his voice. Hole clenching around the plug begging it to go all the way in

So patient, being such a good boy for me as swiss denies him the one thing he wants. Little dick just throbbing, getting so full from being untouched. 

Swiss-uhh, mountain whines with his head tossed back on the pillow

Mountain-uhhh, swiss only teases back. What you want, baby, hm?

Need it in, please, put it in

Its not all the way in bc he wont let mountains body suck it all the way in, its hovering at the widest part and he just wants to cry. He wants to feel full and swiss is just tormenting him bc he wants to see his wet cunt squeeze around nothing

And swiss being swiss, when he finally does push it all the way in, he does it with his pinky, ring and middle sinking into his cunt simultaneously and trapping mountain’s clit between his thumb and forefinger.

That’s it baby, right there, huh? All sweet and sappy and mountain nearly cries bc gods its so fucking much. Torture and pleasure all at once and he’s drooling so much, he cant think straight

Gonna cum—fuck ‘m gonna— and swiss encouraging him come on, baby, be a good boy and lemme see you cum for me

And mountain whines like a wounded animal, huffing out moans every time his stomach spasms as hes cumming and all swiss can do is watch, eyebrows upturned and groaning out a fuuuuck yes

His own dick is nice and chubby now, so drunk on watching mount’s ass clench around this pretty pink toy and….yeah, he wants in now. Wants to replace that plug with his hard as steel cock, fuck another one out of him. Sweet talkin mount as hes still coming down let me treat you right sweetheart and his hands just alllll over him. Draping himself over the earth ghoul and mouthing at his neck, begging to fuck him and mountain can only whine out a sad uh huh

Swiss slowly turning him onto his belly. Rutting his cock against the flair of the plug and lucifer the noises mountain makes.

Gonna fuck you so good, baby, so much better than that toy groaning and growling right up against mountain’s ear yeah? Gonna take it for me? Shit makes you so wet, doesn’t it? And hes stroking his folds so soft compared to the rest of what hes doing

Mountain just nodding feverishly against the sheets, pressing his ass back against swiss’ length. Claws digging into the fabric, close to ripping and swiss chuckles so deep. Pulling at the plug and relishing in the way it makes him drip

Lets get you filled up, pretty boy

[divine-misfortune]

cancelling the rest of my plans for the day bc your fleshlight post about phantom has me on the floor and I can NOT get up

The post in question :))

Dew stares up at him through those pale eyelashes. A look that could have been soft, innocent. Should have been. No, Dew was watching him with the attentiveness of a hungry dog despite everything else about him being relaxed. At ease. Something Phantom was far from.

Face still colored with humiliation, Dew only sought to deepen the violet in his cheeks - he wanted his embarrassment to be vivid, the closest thing to tangible he could get.

The fire ghoul kept his fingers curled around the hard plastic regardless of his little mewls of protest. Slowly rocking it back and forth, just enough to tug at his knot (but more so to remind him of how pathetic it was to be trapped in fucking fleshlight) and let a little bit of his cum dribble out. There had been the beginnings of a wet spot on the front of his pants to begin with, a little overzealous with lube, but it was growing to become far more noticeable.

Dew smiled up at him with the faintest hint of teeth as Phantom's nails dug into the couch cushions, another sound of objection starting to bubble up but Dew hushed him before it found its way to the surface.

"Just helping bug," he shifted onto his knees. "Wanna make sure you're properly taken care of."

His pale hair slipped from where it had been tucked behind his ear as he dipped his head, forked tongue flicking out to grace where skin and silicone met. Phantom screwed his eyes shut and tried not to buck upwards at the warmth of Dew's exhale. Breath audibly hitching when he was given more, he didn't know if it was too much or not enough. It was something and he couldn't wrap his mind around it, or anything for that matter. His brain was still fuzzy, had been since he'd first popped the head of his cock into the toy now serving as a means of torture, but Dew was steadily pushing him towards having straight up static in his skull with every little movement.

When Dew kissed over his sack in an oddly sweet gesture before taking one of his balls into his mouth, it was decidedly too much. Phantom sounded wounded with his cry and Dew let out a pleased sound in response. Little vibrations to accompany the languid caress of his tongue and Phantom's eyes were nearly crossing.

"Dew - Dew, fuck, you gotta-"

He pulled off with a satisfying pop that left the little ghoul sagging into the couch.

"I know baby, i know" the sympathy in his voice was just honey masking the medicine. "Your balls still feel so full, must hurt so bad."

"Wh..." he blinked slowly, brows drawing together.

Dew tutted at him and got off the floor, finding a new home straddling his lap. Phantom couldn't help that his hands automatically went to place on his waist, his blind obedience earned him a soft chuckle. Holding the toy steady in one hand, the other came to cup his jaw and turn his face upwards before Dew kissed him.

It was no longer a gentle push towards that far away headspace, more like a full-on shove when Dew's tongue slipped into his mouth. He could taste himself, kinda salty but heady all the same, mixed with something floral lingering in the other ghoul's mouth. Kinda reminded him of Mountain's breakfast teas. Familiar and the last solid thing he could hope to latch onto to not slip entirely, but that lasted as long as it took for Dew to start shifting the toy again.

Phantom moaned into his mouth, allowing Dew to lick that much deeper. There was a bit more give to the toy now, his knot deflating slowly, slower than he'd like but too quick for Dew's liking.

He pulled back and Phantom found himself sitting there with his tongue lolling out of his mouth, fixated on the string of saliva connecting them up until it broke.

"Gonna help you feel good," Dew's thumb stroked his jaw. "Make my good boy feel good, doesn't that sound nice?"

"But...'M sensitive."

"Just sensitive cause you didn't do a good enough job, silly boy."

"I-I didn't?"

Dew shook his head and tsked. Phantom's ears pinned back at his apparent disappointment but still twitched at the slick sound of the fleshlight stroking over him. The immediate discomfort of overstimulation felt further off but still around the corner, it wouldn't take much for the pinpricks of agonizing pleasure to dig into him again.

"I'm just gonna take care of you, get that knot nice and fat so nothing spills out."

His eyes fluttered when Dew's thumb pushed between his lips, heavy head dropping against the back of the couch with a groan. Dew had found an unfortunately efficient motion. Like a more complicated handjob in a way, stroking, twisting as soon as he felt resistance to his pull. Effectively milking him for everything he had - and Dew planned on taking everything he had to give. He could feel the last of the blood in his head rushing towards his cock. Traitorously staying fat and continuing to ache, his knot threatening to swell again, Dew had more control of his body than he did.

"Wanna see you fuck this pretty little pussy full."

[iamthecomet]

I'm alive I promise! As proof here's 800 words of Cirrus/Cumulus bath time. Magic use, making out, clit rubbing. A miniscule amount of lore. You know all the good stuff.

Many thanks to @mikorsghouls for blessing me with the idea of using air magic underwater. Your brain is so big.

Cirrus is, in a word, comfortable. 

The water is hot, the bathroom sealed and steamy. She upended one of Mountain’s bath bottles into the bath before she stepped in. Rose and jasmine petals swirl around her, stick her to damp skin. 

Cumulus’ fingers press into her belly, just over her belly button. The other hand rests on her thigh. Cirrus leans back, deeper into Cumulus. Lets the other ghoulette hold her, support her. She tucks her head under Cumulus’ chin, her own nearly dipping into the water. She sighs, bodily. The stress of the day wicking away the longer she sits. 

Planning a tour is hard. Harder without Aether around to help. It’s all logistics and phone calls and numbers and a calendar so tight Cirrus is sure one tiny misstep will throw the whole thing off. 

The work never ends, and Copia who is usually exuberantly helpful is distant. Tired. Worried about something. Cirrus has found him more often than not in his room playing that ancient video game system looking at the corners of his room like he’s seen a ghost. 

He’s crankier than she remembers. More sarcastic. She doesn’t mind that so much except that it’s out of character. She knows the tension is from the upcoming tour. Knows things are at stake. Everyone can feel it. And once they’re on the road it will ease. Being on the road is easy, fun. Exhausting but overall they are all their best selves when they have a show to look forward to. 

These last couple weeks before they set out will be torture–already have been. Cirrus has a million things she should be doing right now that aren’t lounging in the bath with Cumulus. 

But she really can’t be fucked to get up and do any of them. And, even if she wanted to, Cumulus would never let her. 

Cirrus kicks up a purr as she relaxes, eyes slipping closed as Cumulus dances her fingers over Cirrus’ thigh, drawing patterns on smooth skin. Cumulus dips her head to kiss Cirrus’ hair. 

“Feel better?” 

Cirrus’ answer is a low hum, confirmation.  “Can I make you feel even better?” 

Cirrus nods. Cumulus’ hand slips a little higher and Cirrus lets her legs fall open further. Knees pressed to the sides of the oversized tub. She loves this tub. Loves every tub in the Abbey honestly. Nearly big enough to swim in. Built for holding multiple ghouls at a time. The depth of it keeping her and Cumulus fully submerged. Cirrus turns her head, braces her temple against Cumulus’ shoulder. 

She kisses the damp flesh. Tastes roses, smells sun dried linen. Home. 

Cumulus slides her hand higher. Pets a finger over Cirrus’ slit, gentle but not teasing. 

“I learned a new trick.” She hums into Cirrus’ hair. 

“Show me.” Cirrus says, angling her head up just enough to kiss Cumulus’ neck now, up over the soft line of her jaw. . 

She loves it best like this. No urgency. Allowed to just melt into Cumulus, to stay there for hours. To be touched, to touch, with no expectation. Maybe she’ll cum, maybe she won’t. It doesn’t matter. 

She feels the disturbance in the water before the bubbles touch her. Cumulus summoning air beneath the surface. Bubbles dancing over her inner thighs, the pace where her clit juts out just so from her lips. 

“Fun.” 

“Isn’t it? Gentler than fingers. Good to get you warmed up.” 

Cirrus needs this. The warm up. Gentle fingers, bubbles, kitten licks. Time to let her body catch up to her brain. Time and indulgence and decadence. Another soft jet of air hits her, a little more this time, enough to make her twitch, to make her gasp. 

“Do you like it?” Cumulus asks. 

Cirrus nods, she lifts her head, and turns to kiss Cumulus. It’s thorough. Filled with the same lack of urgency as everything else. Just the desire to kiss. To taste. To feel each other. Cumulus replaces the jet of air with her fingers. The pads of her index and middle fingers dragging over the hood of Cirrus’ clit, spreading her a little, delving into her slick folds as they kiss. Slow and sloppy and decadent, and Cirrus can’t think of a single reason she will ever need to leave this bath. 

Cumulus pulls away, she pulls her hand from Cirrus’ belly to guide her head back down, to press it to the slope of her breast. Cirrus’ jaw and cheek dipping into the water as Cumulus cards those wet fingers under the dark curtain of Cirrus’ hair to drag over her undercut. Freshly shaved and soft. Motions meant to soothe, fingers moving in time with the ones stroking through her folds. 

Cirrus lets her eyes drift closed again. She lets a haze of comfort and pleasure drape over her.

“Don’t stop,” Cirrus mumbles, lips moving over Cumulus’ ever-steady pulse. 

“Never.” 

[lets-try-some-writing]

Hi there! I really love your vast universe of headcanons, so I have a request :b

How would each Bot (TFP) react to the game Five Nights at Freddy's? Because, like, if you think about it, Cybertronians kinda ARE animatronics😂 . So would that make them more scared, or less scared? Also, I just wanna see how they'd all react to getting jumpscared.

Oooh! Interesting little concept! I love doing the bots reactions to things like this! Although admittedly I don't know how all the mechanics for FNAF work despite knowing a lot of lore, so yeah, this could end up amazing or crap.

Five Nights at Freddy's

The children regularly played video games, it was nothing new to the team. They were the ones who got Bumblebee and Smokescreen hooked after all. Most of the time the children played pretty tame games, often a shooter or racing game of sorts, nothing to be concerned about. However one Friday night after school Rafael brought a new video game to base to share.

It seemed normal at first to the team who were watching from the corners of their optics as they worked. It seemed to be a horror game, one where there was a hidden enemy. And that perked the interest of the team who slowly gathered around to watch as Rafael played the game he called Five Nights at Freddy's.

At first everything seemed relatively normal to the team. From what they gathered there was a hidden monster trying to hunt down the player character to do something awful like suck out their spark or something. The team didn't fully get it, but they watched nonetheless and in increasing horror as the enemies were revealed to be what the human children called "animatronics".

Ratchet: That has to be at least third degree frame deterioration! And look at all those exposed components! How in Primus's name are those poor mecha still functioning??!

Optimus: Are they perhaps spark eaters? Or ghouls?

Arcee: They could be beastformers gone rogue. I've heard of a few cases like that.

Bulkhead: No way. Those have to be techno-organics. How else would they function without spark chambers?

Wheeljack: Nah, they have to be triplechangers. Look at all those excess transformation seams.

Ultra Magnus: Ridiculous. Whatever those things are, they are obviously tortured mecha who have been set up in some sick bloodsport.

Bumblebee: Is this some type of gladiatorial game then? There's no way the player character would be in this situation unless forced.

Smokescreen: Those mecha aren't acting all that rationally. If they really wanted to kill the player character they should have just swarmed. Seems like rookie behavior to me.

Arcee: So sayeth the rookie.

The team were filled with endless questions upon seeing the enemies in the game. And so at Miko and Rafael's behest, every bot was convinced to sit down and give the game a try. It went about as well as one might expect.

Ratchet, wanting to know what the frag the animatronics were all about, sat down first. He was very methodical and dutifully spent time looking over all the mechanics and game controls. He then took every in game night slow, meeting every animatronic and stopping them in their tracks before they could jump-scare him. However his slow and methodical approach backfired during the last night when the stakes got higher and in the end he did get caught. His first response was to leap back with his blade extended and ready to fight back. He was no stranger to battle and he was certain he could take on a beaten and mad mech. He was not afraid, merely battle-ready.

Of course Ratchet made valiant attempts to beat the game. And once he did, he refused to shut up about how simple it was and how ridiculous the animatronics were. He made it a point to try and prove that the animatronics were not akin to Cybertronians in any way, and not a spark stopped him since none wanted to admit just how off the whole thing felt.

Optimus went next just to prove a point and to figure out the lore of the game to understand the animatronics better. He was far less interested in the gameplay and more invested in the story above all else. This led him to get jump scared a handful of times, all of which he didn't even flinch at. But most of his time was spent picking apart the story and quickly finding himself far more in fear of the plot than the machines involved. The souls of children being trapped in the frames of decrepit machines and stuck unable to even control themselves properly... it was horrible.

Once he finished the game, he didn't touch it again. He didn't want to. It hurt his spark to see such innocents beings subjected to what was in his mind, unlawful spark transfers, shadow play, and a degree of slave coding. He ended up refusing to even speak on the game, it brought back bad memories. Where Ratchet tried to walk off the poor feelings associated with the game by disproving it, Optimus just didn't want to even think about it.

The children noticed both these behaviors and tried not to bring up the game around the team leader and medic since it was obvious both were not pleased.

Ultra Magnus refused to play after watching Optimus and Ratchet go through it. He had similar thoughts about the game and viewed it as being made in poor taste as it made a mockery of the suffering of those who the council harmed. And while he did realize the humans who made the game couldn't have known about the pain of those on Cybertron, he still wasn't fond of it. He personally saw the whole thing as disrespectful to the fallen and those who were lost to plague and the cruelties of the caste system. And while perhaps a bit of a far fetched connection, the appearance of the animatronics... he couldn't handle it, not after the Cybonic plague.

Wheeljack and Bulkhead took it better than their superior officers and even enjoyed the game. They opted not to think too hard on the deeper implications of the story and instead had fun poking around with game mechanics. Wheeljack tried to see how he could break the game, often trying to outsmart the game AI and cheat his way through just to prove that he could. Bulkhead didn't play much and more often than not just cheered Wheeljack on, but both always startled during jump-scares simply because it reminded them both of scraplets and the shapeshifters on Cybertron.

For them it was like the old sparkling stories of scraplets coming to eat them alive had become reality. And while they knew it was a silly human game, they both found a degree of entertainment in facing a knockoff version of their sparklinghood fears.

Wheeljack: *getting jump-scared* HOLY SCRAP!

Bulkhead: FRAGGING PLASMA PIT JACKIE!

Wheeljack: That was FANTASTIC! I've got to figure out how that little beasty caught me!

Ratchet: How in the Allspark do you two find enjoyment in this bloodsport?!

Bumblebee and Smokescreen found the deeper implications of the game too dark to consider so instead they took to trying to speedrun the game as best as they could. However considering speedrunning a survival game is a rather difficult feat, they instead made it a game to see who could avoid the most jump-scares. Smokescreen almost always screamed like a little girl whenever he got jump-scared, even throwing his remote at the T.V once. Bumblebee never outwardly screamed, but he did almost crush his remote when he got startled once too many times.

They got invested to the point of trying to get every achievement possible. Together with the children, Bumblebee and Smokescreen spent one long night beating the whole game through a use of tricks, training, and even the odd online tutorial. They were dead tired come morning, but they "won" so they spent the day sleep deprived but pleased with themselves. They received nothing but disappointed looks from the older members of the team. Although Bulkhead and Wheeljack did offer smiles and thumbs up at their efforts.

Arcee for her part wasn't interested in the game after watching the differing reactions from others on the team. She too had seen too much of old Cybertron to ignore the game's implication. So while she didn't play, she most certainly watched and made it a habit to comment on everyone else's playing styles. Wheeljack and Bulkhead received most of her mockery, especially when they cursed in fear loud enough for the whole base to hear. For Bumblebee and Smokescreen she just tried to scare them when they were most focused just to watch them flip out.

It brought her a degree of sick joy to watch her companions flail because of a game. The children for their part found the situation amusing and somewhat concerning. All in all, it was obvious who could handle video games and who could not.

[puuuders]

In Pursuit of Something Better ~ Part 6

Ghost fanfiction

Previous | Next

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Delta and Pebble complete chores together.

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Read on AO3

1.8k words

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During Secondo’s papacy, the ghouls were only let outside at certain times, much like dogs. Two, hour long intervals, once in the morning at 10 AM after breakfast, the second at 6 PM after dinner. More often than not, the ghouls would have to sacrifice this free time outdoors completing their chores, especially if these chores were in the garden, lake, or cemetery. This was another one of Secondo’s cruel entrapments: to refuse the ghouls to complete outdoor chores outside of outside time. And, of course, they would be punished for it if they failed to finish. Secondo’s favorite method of punishment was a spell titled Spiritus Privatio in the Grimoire, which essentially suffocated its victim to near death. Delta knew this all too well; being a water ghoul, it was especially torturous when he has had no prior experience of needing to hold his breath.

Delta was the one subjected to Secondo’s cruelty the most, having such a loose grip on his temper. He found himself collared in the basement multiple times a week, having lashed out at his Papa for one of his disgusting choices, or simply refusing to complete his duties as an act of rebellion. He was not necessarily in the wrong for his behavior, and Omega knew this, but the quintessence ghoul also knew that it was safer to stay silent. This moral disagreement between them sparked many fights, verbal and physical, tearing them apart from each other. The last time they embraced each other was the day Earth was banished. Earth and Delta were as thick as thieves, involved in each other’s lives almost to a fault.

One of the first things Terzo graciously granted the ghouls was two entire days off a week. Of course, they could not all have a day off at the same time apart from holidays that the ministry celebrated, which was also another gift from Terzo. He wanted to treat his ghouls and make them more comfortable, but work still needed to be done.

It was the second Wednesday of October, and a soft wind nipped at Delta’s cheeks. Wind bothered him more than his companion, Pebble, due to the fact that his skin was constantly producing a layer of water to keep it moist. Pebble was unaffected by pretty much any type of weather. Wednesdays were theirs and Alpha’s day of work, Alpha being assigned the task of washing dishes after mealtimes and Delta being assigned to clean the lake of any litter. Pebble had already finished his chores, which was tidying the many office and conference rooms of the ministry, so he tagged along with his friend.

“I shouldn’t have to do this in October,” Delta complained as they walked towards the lake, “it is too cold. I want to do the dishes.”

“If you told him that he might let you.” Pebble said. “I like the lake, I can do this by myself. Why don’t you-“

”I don’t want you to do it by yourself.”

”But you’re freezing.”

“I’m fine.”

The two made it to the dock, which Alpha had recently repaired a broken plank of. It was a completely different color than the rest of the muted brown wood, the new plank being almost merlot. Pebble immediately went for the trash can, tugging on the plastic bag. Delta picked up some litter further out on the dock, looking out at the gentle waves beneath the graying sky.

It was moments like these that made the water ghoul falter. He was suddenly thrusted back in time, sitting down at the edge of the dock some years ago, before Secondo. His head laid on the shoulder of Earth, tails intertwined from behind them, watching contently as the larger ghoul tossed dried corn out to the ducks that seemed to have indefinitely migrated recently.

”You can’t give ducks bread,” Earth would tell him every time they spent their time together like this, “it is bad for them.”

And Delta loved to hear it. He loved to hear Earth’s random tidbits of information, even when he had heard it plenty. Perhaps it was the way Earth would explain things to him without belittling and degrading him, making him feel intelligent for asking questions rather than stupid for not knowing the answers. Aero constantly made a show of how smart he was, only caring to speak to the other ghouls when it could prove his intellect. Alpha thought more with his emotions, something Delta could relate to, yet did not want to be part of. Omega was so judgemental, so paranoid about everything, it was impossible to have a conversation with him. Pebble was immature. Not stupid, but blissfully ignorant unless the truth was being dangled right in front of his nose. If Delta was being honest, he did not know what drew him to the ghoul so much. Perhaps it was nothing but the shared element between him and the one he lost.

He snapped out his thoughts as Pebble dragged the bag off of the dock. Delta sighed, looking down for a moment and then turning around to follow Pebble, picking up trash all around the lake. They made it halfway around, not finding much trash, before Pebble seemed to have read Delta's mind.

“Question.” Pebble spoke suddenly, startling Delta.

“Hm?” Delta didn't look at Pebble, continuing to watch his own feet step across the ground peppered with frost.

“What was Earth like?”

Delta's eyes widened beneath his mask, though he was not required to wear it in the ministry anymore. It was out of habit entirely, the shared quirk being the only thing he really had in common with the quintessence ghoul of the pack. His steps slowed in surprise, before returning to his previous pace, clasping his hands together behind his back.

“What do you wanna know that for?” He asked.

“You talk about him a lot,” Pebble said with a shrug of his shoulders, the trash bag thrown over his right one, “it's just weird not being the first earth ghoul when you guys are the first of your elements.”

Delta chuckled dryly, nodding. “Yeah. Earth was… Well I liked him a lot. ‘Til he did what he did, yeah. He was great. Don’t worry, you’re a good earth ghoul, if that’s why you’re thinking of that.”

“What happened?” Pebble tilted his head, looking up at Delta. Delta looked down at him, uncertainty in his eyes.

“What do you mean?” Delta asked. “You don’t know?”

Pebble shook his head. Delta hesitated before speaking, his breath a bit shaky.

“He uh… Did some pretty dumb things, I suppose.”

“Like?” Pebble pushed, lacking the emotional intelligence to understand Delta was uncomfortable. Delta wanted to tell him no, that he didn't want to talk about it. But it felt like the word ‘no’ vanished from his vocabulary when he spoke to Pebble.

“Apparently he made some kind of advancement on Secondo.” Delta sighed, hurt apparent in his now glistening eyes. “Secondo didn't like it. But… I don't understand.” Delta didn't realize he completely stopped walking, becoming enveloped in his thoughts and emotions. He began to raise his voice.

“He never rubbed me the wrong way like that. He was so clear about his relationship with me, at least with the other ghouls. I don't understand, why would he ever cheat on me with fucking Secondo? Someone I hate so much!”

Delta roared a pained growl, swinging his foot forward and kicking a nearby rock into the water in which he internally personified as his former partner. Pebble stood, frozen, watching Delta's meltdown. Delta dropped to crouch as the rock soared through the air, throwing his mask off and burying his face in his webbed hands as he began to sob. It was weeks worth of bottled emotion, Alpha constantly stuffing it in his mind that Earth was nothing to cry over, that Earth was disloyal, a liar, a hypocrite and a fake. Of course, Alpha said these things in a more gentle and empathetic tone, but the message was clear. Yet it did not make it any less confusing, he would never have any closure, any confirmed truth. Unless he went directly to Secondo, which he knew he would never. There would always be that weight in Delta's mind.

Pebble rubbed Delta's back in an attempt to comfort him, having dropped the trash bag and letting the contents spill onto the ground. His friend was more important than chores right now. Delta's skin greedily devoured each tear that streamed down his face, rehydrating his skin in a self sustaining cycle. It was fascinating for Pebble to watch.

“That is just how some people turn out to be,” Pebble offered, though he was not the most empathetic ghoul, “people lie.”

“It is so hard,” Delta choked out, “I don't understand, why would he lie? For Secondo? He was too smart for that!”

“You said Earth tried to sleep with Secondo?”

Delta nodded, clutching at his eternally wet gray hair. Pebble narrowed his eyes in thought.

“Secondo was probably lying then I bet.”

Delta sniffed, wiping his eyes, but his emotion was still very much present in his voice and expression.

“It wasn’t even Secondo who told me! Alpha did!” He gasped, his voice hoarse.

“How did Alpha know?”

“He was on laundry duty and said he walked in on Earth on his fucking knees in front of Secondo.”

“Damn.” Pebble murmured under his breath. He continued to rub Delta's back, his fingers climbing up to caress his damp hair.

“I can imagine how frustrating it is. But I think it’s better not knowing, yeah? At least I’d rather not know than see that.”

Delta nodded under Pebble’s gentle touch, the light scratching of his claws soothing him. His mind was still racing, and he did not necessarily agree with Pebble. Part of him didn't want to know, but the other wanted closure. If only he were a quintessence ghoul, so he could see Alpha’s memories for himself. But he was not. He was a measly water ghoul, face dripping onto the dying grass below him as his own tears overhydrated him.

“Omega-“ Delta choked, pushing himself up and clearing his throat as he pulled himself towards the trash on the ground, “where is Omega? Today, today… Today is Tuesday- no no, Wednesday. Megs is off!”

Delta began scooping the fallen trash into the white plastic bag, the webs between his fingers siding him in the process. Pebble helped, though he continued looking at Delta.

“Huh?”

“I’ll ask Omega to do it,” Delta smiled for once. “And it’s so easy to tell if Megs is lying.”

“You think he will?” Pebble smiled back. Delta shrugged dismissively, picked up the bag, almost dragging Pebble with it as he slung it over his shoulder and began walking urgently back to the building.

[samaellevampire]

Fixation

Paring: Rain

Genre: Smut (explicit)

NSFW

Words: 1,067

Summary: Rain took his testosterone injection a short time ago. He feels like he's going crazy. He wants everything and everyone. He finally gives in and decides to satisfy himself.

Warning: Trans!Rain (anatomy: pussy, cunt, dickclit), masturbation, handjob, fingering himself, caught at the end.

Fixation part 2: here

Read below the cut people please.

Yesterday Rain gave his hormone injection under the supervision of Cumulus. Everything went well and he is very happy with it. Well...only if he leaves out a small detail. A big detail in fact.

He feels like he's going crazy.

He slept very poorly last night, as he often does in the days after his injection. This strange feeling of lack and fixation he feels. Bordering on obsession. Everything makes him think of that. Every movement, every breath, every image, every object, every person... He wants everything and everyone. His pupils are dilated and he is breathing quickly. Anyone might think they're high when they're not at all.

He just needs it.

Since waking up he has only thought about that. Even before. This is also the reason that prevented him from sleeping well. He silently fights against himself but he knows very well that he will end up giving in to his desire. He is warm. His whole body is burning. He's boiling inside.

This desire becomes necessary.

He could accuse the whole world of being against him knowing full well that there is only one person responsible for his feelings. Himself. More precisely his hormones. It must be said that the others don't help him either. Just standing a few feet away from him right now is like torture.

This morning when leaving his room, Rain came across Swiss who was wearing only a bath towel hanging around his waist as he was coming out of the shower. The multi was in the hallway talking to Cirrus. The water ghoul couldn't help but involuntarily ogle at him as he passed by.

The little ringlets of his hair, his magnificent face, his infectious smile, his soft skin, the drops of water that fall and drip down his muscular chest at that moment, his waistline, his lower abdomen and his muscular thighs... Rain bites his lower lip and unconsciously squeezes his thighs a little, just thinking about all this.

But the most interesting thing was hidden under that cursed bath towel. He had thought about falling on purpose to hope to tear off pieces of tissue because he wanted to, but he settled for walking faster to prevent the situation from turning into a tragedy.

"Hey Rain? Are you with us? Are you listening to me?" Mountain said, shaking his hand in front of his friend's face. “You’re weird today, man.”

Oops, he had also apparently forgotten the details and had gone too deep in his thoughts. Phantom, Dewdrop and him agree to go to the greenhouse so that Mountain shows them a new plant that he is proud to take care of.

The water ghoul comes back to reality by blinking his eyes several times and realizes three things. Already, all his friends are looking at him strangely, wondering what is happening to him. Then, the big ghoul looks a little upset at not being listened to by everyone. Finally, his underwear is wet. And that, that's really the thing too many. He'll explode if he doesn't do something.

"I'm sincerely sorry Mountain. I was lost in my thoughts. I'll come back to see your plant later, I promise. Right now I have uh...something to do. Sorry." Rain said looking away, taking a few steps back with an apologetic expression on his face.

He hears his friend sigh as he turns and feels everyone's confused looks on his shoulders. He's really sorry but he can't hold back any longer. He walks quickly to his room, traversing the long corridors of the ministry.

Once he arrives, he doesn't even take the time to close the door properly and unbuttons his pants before unzipping it. His pants and boxers quickly end up falling in disarray on the cold floor not far from his dresser. The water ghoul already feels the heat from his crotch spreading to the top of his inner thighs, accompanied by a feeling of wetness.

Rain lies on his back on his bed, his upper back and shoulders sinking a little into his pillows. He slowly lowers his right hand onto his body and doesn't wait any longer. He can finally let out a sigh mixed between relief and pleasure immediately after he begins to gently caress his dickclit with the tips of his fingers. The senses were flocking to that part of his body, making him so sensitive and so wanting.

"Oh fuck... I'll never wait that long again." He says, sighing again as he puts a little more pressure on his fingers.

Quite quickly, he moistens the tips of his index and middle fingers so that they slide better on his capricious limb then places them each on either side of his tiny cock to start making back and forth movements against it. He alternates with small circular movements, rewetting his fingers thanks to his transparent and viscous slick.

Not long after, he himself teases the entrance to his pussy by pressing his fingertips on the completely soaked spot. His middle finger goes in very easily because he is so excited. He gently removes it then inserts it again accompanied by his ring finger. He shivers as he feels the pleasant sensation surrounded and pressed against his two fingers. A warm, wet place just waiting to be used for personal pleasure.

Gentle back and forth movements settle in as his breathing becomes deeper. This doesn't stay long as the gentle movements become faster and more confident. His fingers on the inside make small waves movements and imitate a hook to stimulate him while his fingers on the outside press against his humid, burning skin. His eyes slowly close to make the most of it.

After several minutes had passed while he was making himself feel good, footsteps were heard in the hallway. He doesn't pay attention because he's too busy moaning softly while his breathing is rapid and jerky.

"You'll never guess what- Oh." The fire ghoul said as he entered Rain's room, laughing and looking a little more surprised when he saw the scene in front of him. He blinks a few times looking at his friend's cunt with his fingers buried inside to register the information. “Maybe...I could help you?” He doesn't even try to hide his little smirk and his voice teases because he knows very well that his friend won't be able to resist this offer.

[supernatural-bias]

𝐃𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧!𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐞 𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐑𝐲𝐚𝐧 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

↳ warnings: mentions of demons, ghosts, over all spooky stuff

↳ song: sweet dreams in sea major—miracle musical

masterlist!

• Shane leads an interesting life

• Er, afterlife, I suppose, considering he had only sprouted his black, fluffy wings after being plucked from the land of the living

• But I digress

• Besides—he was happy

• He had never been the kind of demon to engage in all that blood torture and acult shit anyways. Instead, he took pleasure in harmlessly scaring assholes or the occasion teenager that he would stumble upon durring the witching hour—although that was mostly code for a three am dunkin' doughnuts run

• "The munchies are a serious thing, Ryan. What can I say?" He had shrugged nonchalauntly once, grinning goofily down at his friend that had just been asking about the bags under his eyes—which resulted in tales of his midnight snack runs. You stood with your arms crossed not too far away, shaking your head slowly, but Shane could see the hint of a smile tugging at your lips

• "You really meet to get better sleep, dude. I'd hate to postpone filming for TMS, but you know I will if you aren't up to it. Doesn't mean that Steven won't give you hell for not letting him do his bit with Ricky though." Ryan had just sighed, rubbing at his own eyes as if the conversation itself had tired him out. But just like how Shane had noticed with you, he could see the ravenette resisting the urge to smile

• "I mean, insomnia is the first sign of possession after all. Can't have a supernatural being living inside of the company, our fans would give us hell." At last came his joke. It earned a snort from you, pleasing Ryan, whose eyes crinkled at the edges pleasantly

• Shane just grinned sharply

• If only you two knew

• That was another fun thing about his chosen predicament

• I mean, come on. A demon who's best friends with someone terrified of them? All the while pretending he doesn't believe anything of the sort? At this point, he should just up and leave for Juliard. A degree in acting was a shoe in for sure with how he had been living the past few years of his eternal damnation

• And it was all the more fun with you there as well, the yin to his and Ryan's yang. Always ready with just the right thing to say in the moment or a shitty pun you had heard the other day. Throw Steven in the mix and the four of you were thick as fucking theives

• There were some downsides though. With life (er, death?) there always was

• Ghost Files was one of the things Shane looked forward to the most at Watcher. Doing Buzzfeed Unsolved had been amazing, and even though he was an inhuman being that could crumble businesses with a flick of his pointed tail if he wanted to—demons did play a part in evil corporations after all—it felt liberating to build Watcher from the ground up with Ryan, Steven, and you.

• Plus, there was the added bonus of more shows now—one of which included puppets. He particularly enjoyed that one

• But Ghost Files was the crowned jewel. The one thing everyone—crew, audience, staff, even cameramen—looked forward to

• What can I say. Old habits die hard—and most of these people had been doing Buzzfeed Unsolved since they could properly hold a mic. It felt good to do something familiar

• And that's what it had been like for Shane. He was excited, no, downright giddy, to be back in the element of ghosts and ghouls

• It was fun to watch you and Ryan skirt around an entirely ghost free house, nerves on end as the two of you jumped every little noise. Most of which Shane made

• That's not to say that the three of you didn't find haunted places. Oh no. You most certainly did. The Sally House was the most memorable of them

• That demon really had been ready to kill Ryan and you that night. Right on the pentagram in the basement. But Shane had been able to coax (read: threaten) it into not doing anything but flash a flashlight once or twice

• But sometimes, his true form wasn't enough to spook off the spooks, so to say. It was rare, but occasionally some brave, or incredibly stupid, ghosts would try their luck at laying a hand on you or Ryan

• That got them a one way ticket to the second death they would ever have the pleasure of experiencing. The one delt out by Shane being arguably worse than anything that happened in their mortal lifetime

• He cared for his people. It was as simple as that. So what if that made him unethical as a demon. He played around with hand puppets half the time for fucks sake and he enjoyed it. He was far from an ethical demon at this point, and he was fine with that

• Didn't mean that having to ward off spirits didn't put him into a bad mood though

• Shane would probably never admit it, but the idea of something hurting you two while he wasn't there to protect you left a taste as bad as brimstone in his mouth

• "Shane? Dude, you're looking pale. Well paler than usual." You had stopped in the middle of filming once to comment on his appearance, trying to hide the way you sucked at your cheeks with anxiety. "Don't tell me you've finally cracked and begun to get scared by all this."

• Ryan had smiled at your joke. But the smile slowly slid off his face as he took another look at Shane, who was not laughing in the slightest

• "That Taco Bell we ate earlier didn't settle well, that's all." Shane's excuse was flimsy, but he couldn't care less right then. He just wanted to stay as close to you two and the crew as possible in case another spirit tried anything

• "Alright. But if you need to say the word and we can take a break." You said steadily, jabbing Ryan in the gut playfuly when he didn't automatically back you up

• "Yeah! Yeah, what they said. And jeez you didn't have to hit me so hard. Asshole—"

• "Oh you wanna go Bergara?" You had laughed, comically winding your arm up like Popeye used to do in the cartoons. Ryan scoffed, donning his Ricky Goldsworth voice as he began to fake fight with you

• The sight was enough to bring a small smile to Shane's face. The two of you always managed to do that

• "Nerds." He chuckled, bad mood already begining to lift a little

• "Loser." Both you and Ryan threw back the insult at the same time, laughing all the while

[coraniaid]

School Hard is, in retrospect, one of the pivotal episodes of Buffy the Vampire Slayer.  

In this episode, Buffy is trapped in Sunnydale High School, forced to confront one of the most significant villains the show has yet introduced; one of the most iconic and memorable of the show’s seven seasons.  Somebody who, the first time he speaks to Buffy this episode, casually threatens to kill her and walks away without so much as a scratch.  Somebody who we’re meant to see as an altogether different proposition than his Season 1 predecessors.  Somebody whose attempts to destroy Buffy this time around are only foiled thanks to unexpected support from her mother, leaving him free to try again and again for the rest of the season. 

A villain who, unlike Luke and the Annointed One and all the other Season 1 monsters of the week, actually seems to be having fun while he does his best to ruin Buffy’s life and inflict misery and torture on the population of Sunnydale. Somebody who relishes in inflicting pretty cruelty.  Somebody who was originally intended to be killed off after only a few appearances, but who – thanks in no small part to his performance in episodes like this one – will instead continue to appear on the show for years to come.  A character it is impossible to imagine Buffy the Vampire Slayer without.

I am, of course, talking about Principal Snyder.

(Also there are some new vampires in town this episode I guess but whatever.  This post isn’t about them.)

I didn’t talk about him much during my Season 1 rewatch, but I really enjoy Principal Snyder as an antagonist.  I think he might actually be one of my favorite minor characters.  He’s incredibly well realized from his first appearance in The Puppet Show: instantly this note perfect pastiche of a self-important petty little bully with just barely enough power to be really dangerous.  The show uses him as a contrast to the other adults in Buffy’s life (Giles, Joyce) to such good effect (especially at the beginning of Season 3).  And Armin Shimerman is fantastic in the role: you can see why the writers gave up on their initial idea of Sunnydale High having a whole string of different principals who got killed off every few episodes.

He’s such a well done comic character too: funny, but never slipping up and giving the impression of being in on the joke.  We’re only seven episodes in, and we’ve already gotten gems like “I can smell trouble – it’s like a sixth sense.” and  “What are you, ghouls?  There are no dead students here.  This week.”.  All delivered with this perfect growling sneer and no acknowledgement at all that what he’s saying is ridiculous.

He’s just fun, in a way that I really don’t think any of Buffy’s other non-supernatural antagonists are.  Yes, Buffy will continue to find the non-supernatural parts of her life hard after high school, but it’s all so impersonal after this.  Other than Maggie Walsh (who is really part of the supernatural world anyway, as head of the Initiative, so barely counts), none of the bad professors she has to deal with in college are recurring characters.  Neither is her bank manager, or her boss at the Doublemeat Palace, or Dawn’s security worker. (Okay, very technically her second manager at the DMP is recurring, but you know what I mean.) 

Of course, being a Slayer still causes Buffy problems in her day to day life, but for whatever reason – I don’t know if it was a deliberate choice or just a result of the later seasons becoming increasingly serialized and story-arc focused - the show becomes less and less concerned with showing us that everyday life.  (Is Parker the last recurring character of any importance who never finds out that Buffy is the Slayer?) And when Buffy goes back to work at the high school in Season 7, everything’s so tied up with her being the Slayer that we just don’t get the same juggling-two-lives thing anymore.

And ... well, I guess Buffy doesn't miss Snyder. I can hardly blame her. But I do.

[loreholdlesbian]

Duskmourn Play Booster Challenge

I always like to make a booster pack of custom cards to accompany each set, giving me a chance to play around with the mechanics and a bite-sized attempt at designing for a larger set rather than in a vacuum. (You may notice that I didn't do one for bloomburrow. Uh, moving on,). This is done in the style of a contest from GDS3, and in that vein I try to make cards that not only are reasonable additions to the set but also, whenever possible, are doing something novel with the themes and mechanics, not just rehashing the same old things. I also try to cover wide amounts of ground, in terms of color and themes, not focusing too hard on any one thing.

Art links

Wicker Dancer

Not Done Yet

Lost Prison // Crack in the Walls

Final Ghoul

Zealot of Terrors

Ominous Calm

Regal Simulacrum

Haunting Knowledge

Fear of Loss

Grasping Ghost

Torturous Blaze

Rotrue Remnant

Sinister Passage

Rare

Card transcription

Wicker Dancer 1GG Artifact Creature- Scarecrow At the beginning of your upkeep, choose artifact, enchantment, creature, or land at random. Until end of turn, you may play cards of the chosen type from your graveyard. Each card you play this way enters with a finality counter on it. 3/3

End transcription

This was the last card I made for the pack, and was basically made to fill constraints. I knew I wanted an artifact in the pack, to have a diverse spread of types for delirium, and I knew I wanted it to be green since there was only one other green card in the pack. A green artifact, in this set, definitely wanted to tie into the delirium theme, but I didn't want to just do delirium straight up cause it was already on a few cards in the pack. After a few iterations, I settled on this design which encourages the same kinds of things as delirium does but comes at it from another angle. It's a very Johnny-y card; it can have a lot of power to it, but you need to be able to build around it to consistently use it. Normally I don't like to use randomness as a power limitation, but I think it works well here; being able to choose the type would encourage you to just put it in a deck that wants that one type. Doing it like this means you want to work around the randomness in a way I think will be fun.

Uncommons

Card transcription

Not Done Yet 3WW Sorcery Return target permanent card from your graveyard to the battlefield. If you return a Room this way, unlock one of its locked doors. Survivors never celebrate a victory for long.

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This is a pretty simple card for the white-black reanimator theme. I wanted it to be able to hit both creatures and enchantments to tie into the enchantment theme, and I thought it was best to just let it hit any permanent. Reanimating rooms doesn't really, work all that well though, and since they're a key part of the set I wanted to make sure this card did work with them, so i gave it an unlock clause. It's not really meant to be Room reward, so much as reanimation card that also happens to work with Rooms, and I think i struck that balance well.

Card transcription

Lost Prison 2U Enchantment- Room At the beginning of your upkeep, you may lock an unlocked door of a Room you control. // Crack in the Walls 3U Enchantment- Room When you unlock this door, target creature you control gets +2/+2 and can't be blocked until end of turn.

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Now this one *is* meant to be a heavy Room reward. Putting it on a room itself let's me get away with a much more niche effect than I might otherwise, cause at minimum you can just use it as a way to use the second half over and over, but if you have other rooms you can use it with those instead and don't have to spend 4 mana every turn to make use of it.

Card transcription

Final Ghoul 1B Creature- Zombie Final Ghoul can't block. 1B: Return Final Ghoul from your graveyard to the battlefield with a finality counter on it. Activate only as a sorcery, and only if you control no creatures. (If a creature with a finality counter on it would die, exile it instead.) 3/3

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From before the set even came out, I wanted a card named "final ghoul" and since we didn't get one I had to make it myself. Ties into the graveyard themes of the set.

Card transcription

Zealot of Terrors 1B Creature- Human Cleric Artifact creatures and enchantment creatures you control get +1/+1. Delirium — 3BB, T: Create a 2/2 black Horror enchantment creature. Activate only if there are four or more card types among cards in your graveyard 2/2

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I came up with the first line of text as an off-beat way to encourage similar deckbuilding to delirium, but this card felt like it worked better if it just also had a straight up delirium ability to make it more obvious. I had the delirium ability make you enchantment creatures, in order to synergize with first ability. This also works well in an Eerie deck, and I like that flexibility.

Commons

Card transcription

Ominous Calm 2W Instant Manifest dread. That creature enters with a lifelink counter on it. (Look at the top two cards of your library. Put one onto the battlefield face down as a 2/2 creature and the other into your graveyard. Turn it face up any time for its mana cost if it’s a creature card.)

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This is part of a cycle of cards that are all instants/sorceries that manifest dread and put a keyword counter on the card. I just think it's a fun mechanic to combine with manifesting, cause it makes it more than just a vanilla 2/2 when face down and it sticks around when it turns face up and that can be interesting in useful ways. Like if you manage to manifest a big creature, getting lifelink on it is certainly fun.

Card transcription

Regal Simulacrum 3W Enchantment Creature- Horror When this permanent enters, draw a card. Impending 3—1W (If you cast this spell for its impending cost, it enters with three time counters and isn’t a creature until the last is removed. At the beginning of your end step, remove a time counter from it.) 3/3 It spoke only in gibbers, but its manner evoked the forgotten royalty it mocked.

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Impending was only on a cycle of mythics but it's my favorite mechanic from the set and I was really hoping to see it more than that, and this is my booster so I can. You can't stop me.

Card transcription

Haunting Knowledge 2U Sorcery Draw two cards. Eerie — Whenever an enchantment you control enters or you fully unlock a Room, Haunting Knowledge gains flashback 2U until end of turn. (You may cast this card from your graveyard for its flashback cost. Then exile it.)

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Here's a simple Eerie reward that uses it in a fun way I feel like we don't see this kind of mechanic get used a lot. Conditional flashback is just a fun way to do things.

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Fear of Loss 2B Enchantment Creature- Nightmare When this creature enters, choose enchantment or creature. Each player sacrifices a permanent of the chosen type. 3/1 It bears the faces of everyone you grieve most dearly.

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This is a design I've had sitting around for a while, and Duskmourn felt like a great place to deploy it. It's a twist on the typical Fleshbag Marauder effect we've seen a lot of utilizing black's ability to remove enchantments.

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Grasping Ghost R Creature- Spirit When this creature enters, exile the top card of your library face down. You may look at that card for as long as it remains exiled this way. T, Sacrifice this creature: You may play the exiled card until end of turn. 1/2 It clings to what it knew in life, no longer remembering why.

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Here's a twist on red's impulse draw effects, that ties it into the graveyard theme by making you sacrifice a creature to get it.

Card transcription

Torturous Blaze 1R Instant Torturous Blaze deals 3 damage to target creature or planeswalker. Delirium — If there are four or more card types among cards in your graveyard, instead Torturous Blaze deals damage to that permanent equal to the number of those card types. Razorkin delight in tormenting the uninitiated.

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I think it's fun to make delirium scale up, so that if you go all-in on diversity of card types in your graveyard you can get extra rewards for it, but that's difficult to do at common. I think this card makes it work though, since it has the baseline mode of dealing 3 damage; it has a very safe floor, it's only the ceiling that's raised, so it's not too demanding of your deckbuilding which feels safe at common.

Card transcription

Rotrue Remnant G Creature- Elf Druid Survivor Survival — At the beginning of your second main phase, if this creature is tapped, add G. 1/1 Some elves live in the Hauntwoods despite the dangers, in memory of the forests of their ancestors.

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I'm kinda surprised we didn't get a survival mana dork, since it triggers at the perfect time during main phase so you don't need to add any clunky "you don't lose this mana" clause. I went with the powerful llanowar elves version, but to be safer you definitely could make this like, a 2 mana 1/3 or something. But I like to live dangerously.

Card transcription

Sinister Passage Land T: Add C. T: Add one mana of any color. Spend this mana only to turn a permanent face up. 4, T, Sacrifice Sinister Passage: Manifest dread. Activate only as a sorcery. (Look at the top two cards of your library. Put one onto the battlefield face down as a 2/2 creature and the other into your graveyard. Turn it face up any time for its mana cost if it’s a creature card.)

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A land that can sac itself is great for delirium, and one that can turn itself into a creature later in the game makes for a good use-case for that. So this card kinda built itself. I added the "add any mana" clause just cause it felt right, and made it a bit better in a manifest deck.

[gojuo]

Tell us now your top 5 most hated characters on ASOAIF and F&B please!

My no.1 most hated ASOIAF character is Tywin Lannister. I hate this man. I hate him very much. I wish he would go away and die somewhere where he will inconvenience no one but the vultures. I loathe his manner. I loathe his style. I loathe the fact that he dares draw breath in a world where my loved ones do not or rather cannot because he murdered them. I loathe that he was rewarded for behavior which, in-universe, he should have been quartered for. I want him dead. I want to kill him and destroy him. I want him died. #SCENE #ANGER #FUCK #DIE #HATERED

There is not a single ounce — not even a miniscule amount ­— of sympathy I have for this scumbag. Not a single thing likeable about him. Not a single redeeming quality he has to his name. From the first moment he showed up on page until the very last mention of him, he was nothing short of disgusting. He is diabolical, satanic, monstrous, loathsome, ghoulish, sadistic, cruel, insert every single synonym of the term demonic here, etc. etc. I hate him. I hate him I hate him I hate him I hate him.

The whole “Yeah he’s evil uwu but Charles Dance is so granddaddy I can fix him <3" sales pitch this low IQ fandom has been pushing since the dawn of that accursed adaptation on top of it all only makes the intense disgust I hold for him so much fucking worse. Tywin Lannister has no conscience, no charisma, no morals, and he has no honor — all of that in an un-sexy way, one of the greatest crimes a villain with no traumatic backstory could objectively ever commit. Never mind the beyond immoral execution of the Red Wedding (“Machiavellian” my ass. Any stupid fool who says this crap needs to go back to elementary school in order to relearn how to read and how to interpret literature and themes in literature right the fuck now), never mind the severe mental torture he’s put his own flesh and blood through to the point where two of them are in a destructive incestuous relationship with each other and the other pushed to the point of patricide, this monster had his son's fourteen-year-old little child-wife gangraped by his guards, had each of them give her a silver coin after one was done with her, then had thirteen-year-old Tyrion rape her last and, contrary to the others, give her a gold coin because “Lannisters are worth more”. All because she was a common-born little girl who dared to marry the disabled son he hated so much. Am I supposed to think this piece of shit falls under the sexy evil category of villains? What sad backstory does this trash have to his name that would woobify him enough to “if villain bad why sexy” him? His father had a few mistresses after his mother died and gave them gifts and cared for them? Was that the tragic past of his that elevated him enough for people to wash their conscience clean so to cross moral boundaries all to lust after this so-called “sexy villain”? Tywin Lannister had his father’s mistress, who was nothing but a poor common-born daughter of a candle-maker, stripped naked and paraded through the streets of Lannisport for two whole goddamn weeks, and forced her to tell every man she came across that she was a thief and a whore, quite alike to what he did to Tysha as well. This man hates women. I cannot stress this enough, like Tywin Lannister hates women. And not just women, but especially commoner women. His modus operandi is inflicting sadistic sexual violence on any and all women he doesn’t like (which is like, all of them). As a true “if villain bad then why sexy” connoisseur and quite frankly, the president of the club, this man is not, never was and never will be a part of that esteemed category of villains.

And you know something that’s a veeery personal ick of mine — and this is really the icing on the cake for me — is shit-for-brains dickriders of this ghoul having the gall to pretend like he did not explicitly order the murder of Elia and her babies, that he apparently just “let” Clegane and Lorch loose on them. These low IQ fucks know what that demon did to his father’s poor mistress and what he did to little Tysha, and then somehow they still think this sadist with a severely fragile ego did not tell Clegane and Lorch to do what they did to her with his own mouth? Any waste-of-space who parrots this BNF-drivel (all said in order to minimize what happened to Elia, Rhaenys and the baby in place for Aegon) is not only going on my blocklist like immediately, they also need to die. Respectfully.

Now, I mostly spoke on his character from a moral standpoint, but I want to make clear that this loser’s shortcomings aren’t only morality-based. All the shit-for-brains stans this demon has know he has no morals so they always deflect to the “b-b-but he’s a military genius, that’s why I like him, I’m so edgy!!!” excuse and I want to emphasize how fucking stupid you have to be to believe Tywin is anything but brainless. AFFC is literally right there. GRRM’s explicitly spells out to the reader through Jaime’s POV how fucking stupid Tywin was in everything that he did. How the only show of military genius this demon had was through being nothing but a bully. All his work unraveled the second he died. He built nothing, and he will go down in history as nothing. That’s why his one and only legacy will always be that he got murdered on the shitter by his own son, like the fucking loser that he is.

I hate this fucking character with every fiber of my being.

On number 2 stands Aerys II Targeryen. Do I even need to explain this? What I said about Tywin applies to this racist, rapist, fascist piece of shit as well. I’m not going to waste my time and money psychoanalyzing this bottom-of-the-barrel trash. Aerys is the pinnacular culmination of three hundred years of Targaryen delusion, self-worship, egotism and five thousand years of Valyrian hubris, god-complex, and megalomania. Him and his daughter both, but I’ll get to her in a minute. This man’s lucky he’s only got 2 stans — and those two are only stanning just to be contrarians — unlike Tywin, who’s got an actual dedicated fanbase. Ugh. Two peas in a pod. One edge he has over Tywin is that at the very least Aerys has some sort of tragic backstory that’s actually valid. Too bad for him idgaf. Pour one out for Rhaella :(

My third most hated is ... Daenerys. Man… How do I even open this can of worms… I’ve a whole tag dedicated to hating her, soooo awkwardly waves hand in that direction. Everything about Daenerys is just so … racist. Racist on an in-universe level, racist on a meta level and racist on a fandom level, so I was never going to like Daenerys no matter what. The fact that she has the most insane and delusional and downright disgusting fanbase ever in all of media history really doesn’t help her case. If they hadn’t been this rabid and racist, then I don’t think I would have hated her this much. Because then I could’ve just had her character be as she is: the Paul Astreides of the series. A false Messiah, basically. The meta-level racism (GRRM making every single antagonist in her plotline nothing but walking, talking Reel Bad Arabs tropes; the use of POV trap which leads to none of the brown and black supporting characters in her story having a voice; GRRM’s own racism as in exotic-erotic tropes for all of the Essosi people, really badly researched POC cultures he based the Essosi off of, using brown and black people as nothing but props for the main white girl) and Daenerys’ in-universe racism (conquering and colonizing lands and peoples; white saviorism; imperialism; her hypocritical use of slavery) would still be there, of course, and I still would not have been able to stomach it meaning I still would not have rooted for her in any way, but then at the very least I would not have been subjected to a long decade of fandom racism being justified through the excuse of her freeing slaves from evil Reel Bad Arabs (spoiler alert: she is not freeing anybody).

Ugh, I don’t wanna talk about her. Everything about her from her character to the plot and storyline and her place in the narrative is downright insulting to me as a WOC, and quite frankly, any WOC that lays down their lives to defend this girl baffles me. Like, stop it. Please have some self-respect.

Then comes Jaehaerys the Old King. Father and inventor of misogyny. It’s crazy.

No. 5 is Rhaenys I and Daeron I the Young Dragon. EVERY TONGUE THAT RISES AGAINST THE DORNISH SHALL FALL!!!

[hellcab]

Do you RP other muses?

I do! I just haven’t been as active with my other muses. Regardless, here’s the roster.

First, my Fallout muses. There’s Ares T.A. Redwood, a ghoul mercenary driven by his own moral philosophy. Although stoic, his rage towards cruelty, oppression and corruption burns brighter than any nuclear reaction. He’s a man of principles, he believes A is A regardless of the century. He’s a difficult man, troubled and haunted, but he’s a good man.

Then there’s Scratch. He’s a Fiend; a highwayman who targets lone travelers. Scratch is cruel, decadent and always chasing that next high. His M.O. usually involves him chasing down people on his motorcycle. Robbing them, and if necessary, killing them where they stand.  Yet, he’s not nearly as psychotic as his fellow Fiends. Scratch has standards and his limits. He still clings to some consciousness. In truth, he hates the lifestyle.

There’s also Quintus, a Legionary. He’s a man of broken faith. Through misery alone, Quintus has realized how obscene The Legion is.  Yet, despite his disloyalty to Caesar or Lanius, he’s loyal to his men. It’s the survival of his men that compels him forward. Quintus wants them to survive the way, no matter the cost. He’s a cynical soldier, bemused and horrified by everything around him.

Now, for my Hellaverse characters.

Over at @infinity-cantos, you can find my multimuse blog. There you can find Guns Akimbo, Shrike, Kaizaan and finally The Wire.

Guns Akimbo is a mercenary who runs guns across the eight rings of Hell. She’s a Valkyrie, chasing the adrenaline rush of violence. By the way, she was also married to Roth Kruger. Despite her bloodlust, there’s some good in her. After all, it was one good deed that sent her to Hell. Deep down, she wants something more than violence. Yet, she feels she’s destined to it.

Shrike is my Exorcist. Compared to Lute, Shrike is very subdued and reserved. She views slaughtering Sinners like any other chore. Yet, she’s a woman haunted by tragic mistakes. At one time, she was fanatical, blinded with rage at every turn. That cost the life of her best friend.

Kaizaan is an Imp, a thief as well. She’s highly successful, able to afford a comfortable and luxurious living. She even uses magic, so she can invade people’s dreams and steal their secrets. Overall, she’s greedy, selfish and blinded by materialism.

Then, there’s The Wire. He’s the man who murdered Roth Kruger. He also murdered several other people, before becoming crippled for life. In Hell, he’s back to his old habits. Now, murdering those who society could care less about. The Wire is just some murderous pseudo-intellectual snob. He thinks he knows everything, but he doesn’t.

Finally, we have @mindhate. There you can find The Tyrant of Jinn, Sargatanas. He once was God’s chamberlain, but that ended when he sided with Lucifer. Now, Sargatanas is a monster who feeds on suffering, fear and cruelty. He’s what Hell once was, the last remnant of that nightmare. He hides many secrets, many terrible things. He desires to drag Hell back to where it once was. To torture every Sinner to the end of eternity.