#They are viscous but i still want to hug one

[dragonclawfromspace10]

"Vampire" Interpretation

Or Blood Blobs as these creatures were the ones that started the legend in the first place. They are blood spirits that pop up every thousands of years.

Considering their size, they are quite small for something that drinks lots of blood. They do grow in size, but as they leave trails of blood, their shrunk back to a small size until they find their next catch-able victim.

They may look harmless, but they are quite hostile and will attack provoked or not. It's all to fill their one desire: to feed.

They can extend "arms" to create "hands," which are magically hardened into pitchfork-shaped fingers on each side. These fingers pierce holes into unsuspecting victim's necks, and the victim's blood is pumped into the blob. Once finished, the legend of vampires begins.

Since they are spirits, they look like sheet ghosts, which sometimes have eyes and mouths. They can see and make strange gurgling noises. They can also hear and feel some sort of pain if harmed a specific way. Water and sunlight are their greatest enemies. They also have a strange glow to them that indicates that there is something possessing the blobs themselves, and that's why they seem alive.

As for the blood itself, there are all sorts of DNA, including unknown ones. They range from humans to animals to ones unrecognizable. All of this DNA is why these things are also considered as aliens.

Nobody knows where they come from. All they know is that they just randomly materialize, and they hunt those who are unlucky enough to get caught by one and become vampires.

[actual-changeling]

i am having a time y'all, my brain is chewing on that one fucking sentence like a dog on a bone, so have some hurt/comfort with a nice dose of angst.

-

They aren't talking.

It isn't impossible, even with Aziraphale back in heaven and Crowley in his lonely flat in Mayfair—nothing is impossible, not when they're together—and yet that is the problem, isn't it?

They aren't together. They aren't talking. They could.

Crowley thought about it, although there is little else he thinks about these days. Maybe if he had said more, chosen better words, kissed him earlier, run after him, pulled him back—

Maybe then he'd still be here. Maybe then he wouldn't be alone.

It is the emptiness weighing him down, the silence ringing in his ears, and how does he admit to himself that he misses his voice? His soft words, the stretch of his smile, the speeches about Hamlet and book restoration, about newly discovered cafés and ancient dishes long gone.

Aziraphale had lulled him to sleep more times than Crowley could count, a warm blanket wrapping around his curled-up body on the sofa, sprawling and moving, then calmed by his voice.

They aren't talking, and Crowley can't sleep.

He hears him in his dreams whenever he does, but it isn't his voice. It is twisted, warped, wrong, tainted by the acrid burn of bleach on his tongue, the meaning lost in the hollows where emotions should sit.

Days blur into each other, viscous and opaque, molasses trickling through an hourglass.

Sometimes he is scared he will forget how he sounds.

Sometimes he begs and pleads with his own mind to erase every memory of it, every 'I forgive you', every 'we're not friends', every endearment, every single time he said his name.

They aren't talking, and maybe that's for the better.

He said too much again, didn't he? Always talking too much, spilling the wrong secrets held tight to his chest, asking questions no one wants to answer.

So, after weeks of uninterrupted quiet, he simply stops. Crowley's mouth stays shut, his words chewed up and swallowed, and—on unpleasant occasions—thrown up. There are a myriad of things he wants to say, but there is no one left who might be willing to listen, not anymore.

Maybe there had never been someone to begin with.

They aren't talking. The world is about to end.

Aziraphale reaches for his hand, and he lets him, his fingertips cold, his pulse too quick.

"Crowley," he breathes, tender, reverent, a name said simply so it has been spoken, so it is real.

Crowley does not want to talk—not now, not yet, not when he can practically taste blood and ash on his tongue. With a gentle tug, he frees his hand from his grasp and pulls him into a hug instead.

They aren't talking, so he buries his face in the crook of his neck and breathes, holding and being held, and the haunting silence dissipates. Words are superfluous when there is the sound of his heartbeat, his trembling breaths, their clothes rustling as the embrace grows tighter and tighter.

They aren't talking, but they don't need to, not when Aziraphale cups his face and presses their foreheads together, not when Crowley slides his palm around the back of his neck and nudges their lips together just so.

They are talking—every gasp a word, every touch a phrase, every tear an apology and a promise at once.

They are talking, they aren't talking, they still love—violently, desperately—and the world does not end.

[illubean]

ooooh if i can request a fic or hc, can you do the phantom troupe or just chrollo, feitan, phinks, shalnark, and shizuku (if its too many for all the phantom troupe) with like an angelic fem s/o like full on wings and halo and her nen ability is healing?

(if u dont like it its fine :) have a good day everyday! sending virtual hugs!!!)

Phantom Troupe w/ an Angelic!S/o

Characters: Chrollo Lucilfer, Feitan Portor, Shalnark, Shizuku Murasaki Type: Headcanons, written Fem!Reader in mind

this has been marinating in the drafts for a while whoopsies

Warnings: some toxic behaviors

Chrollo Lucilfer

ngl he's prob thought of just stealing your nen then killing you and preserving your wings

butttttt you were interesting to him so he decided against it

he decided it was more worth it to keep you around then have to go through the trouble of all of that

did he massacre an entire clan for their eyeballs? well yeah but like...they weren't THAT special to him

but you?

he thought you were gorgeous

and he was intrigued by your very existence

after you start dating and you start trusting him he probably just locks you up somewhere under the pretense of "keeping you safe" aka making sure no one can kill the troupe's personal medic

despite that he still treats you very well

he likes to bring you stolen gifts and shower you in praise whenever he gets the chance

if he could make a cult around you he probably would

Feitan Portor

very confused how someone meant to be the epitome of pureness ended up with him of all people

he is one of the more viscous members of the troupe

seriously, you chose HIM????

thinking about it brings him to...not so appropriate territory

all I will say is he is a wee bit perverted and his brain is going down the corruption route

n e wayzzz he's probably scared to touch you when you first get together

you're just so pretty and delicate that he doesn't want to hurt you

he often comes to you when he's wounded and won't say a word about it

whenever you touch him while healing him his face dusts a light pink and he has to avoid eye contact <3

he may get a wee jealous if you tend to the other troupe members

sometimes when he's on missions he won't dodge attacks that he could've easily just for an excuse to have you touch and tend to him again (you could've just asked babes)

Shalnark

another confused one but not as self deprecating as Feitan

like why are you with him he's a criminal but also he's not THAT bad right???

he probably asks you if he's going to hell when he dies

actually he asks you tons of questions in general

like how does your nen work, how did you get your wings/halo, how did you end up walking around on earth like every other human??

he is very curious like shinee

sometimes he likes to just stare at you

and he especially likes to watch you work

he is amazed by your healing abilities every time

but most of all he likes watching you do mundane things

like watering the flowers outside or setting out food for stray cats

he thinks you are adorable

Shizuku Murasaki

upon first meeting i see this going one of two ways

either your appearance is so unique that she cannot forget you

or she forgets you a few times and thinks she died but didn't remember

you have to reassure her that no, she is not seeing things and she is not dead

she wishes she can keep you all to herself; not because of your powers but because of how ethereal you are

she thinks your too perfect for the public eye

when she has the chance and if you let her she likes to pet the soft feathers on your wings

[wish-upon-the-universe]

"What if the King adopts Siffrin-" "NO what if Bonnie and Nille adopt him-" "Wait what if Odile adopts them-" WELL WHAT ABOUT EUPHRASIE ADOPTING SIFFRIN.

Hear me out.

Housemaiden Euphrasie finds a dark haired teen with nothing more than the clothes on his back, a shitty dagger in hand, and a handful of Vaugardian and Porterian phrases under their belt. She hears their accent, sees those metal pins, knows that darkless hair far too similar to her own and decides. This child should be protected.

So she gives him a place to stay, among her fellow housepeople at the House of Change in Dormont.

And Siffrin grows up there. He visits the Observatory with her, studies that eternally locked door, takes a few classes and learns about the Change God. He clings to her when there's too many people in the cafeteria or when that one new scientist girl starts flirting with """Euphie""". Siffrin reads so many manuscripts of plays, takes classes to learn other languages and acting courses to occupy time and maybe sometimes he visits other cities to explore other Houses (with Euphrasie, ofc). He can help her see who wished for Vaugarde to be saved, and run away faster than anyone and escape the House when the King arrives. And later he can stumble on that study-all girl, rumored to be blessed by the Change God (how strange!) after helping her growing party defeat a particularly large sadness. Then he can see Euphrasie and panic when she starts to speak nonsense, saying something is broken, failing, rotting, and realize that Vaugarde's intent, as pure as it was, has trapped him in time. And then he can cry when he "shoves" (threw like a broken doll) her and apologize and she can just hug him and promise them that its ok!!!! Its all over, its all ok, and she's more than happy to bless them on his new journey.

And Euphrasie!! She cares for Siffrin almost like her own child. He has a family, somewhere, but until they can be reunited... she can be a guardian. She can play favorites just a little when she's nominated and accepts the position of Head Housemaiden (she pretends not to see Siffrin cry with pride). She can teach him, and try to bury the past under the changing future with them. She can tell him about the wishes, and they can wish for a savior from the King together. She can cry and hope that Siffrin escaped, or that Mirabelle was able to save him with her blessing. She can see the broken, rotting, failing wish and Siffrin with tired eyes and an exhaustion deep in his bones, and know that their past- even just a little- has caught up and it has ruined them. She can see the haze of something familiar take over her and wake up to a viscous shade still in the sky, coming from... Siffrin? She only gets a glimpse, though, before she's out like a light and waking up to overhearing Siffrin talk with his party about continuing to travel. She can heal herself as as much as she wants to hold them close again... they deserve to explore the world with a new family. So when she blesses them, she asks they never forget her and the promise to come back and write letters and they whisper "I love you" before parting ways.

So yeah, Euphrasie adopts siffrin

[slaymbo]

more yan!class 1a with earthbender readerr :3

y'all know the sports festival where they had to fight eachother in the ring? yeah, if y/n got to the point where they have to fight todoroki its gonna be INSANE

HEAR ME OUT, OKAY

because technically earthbenders can bend certain oils, riiight?

and it would be hilarious if y/n threw oil at him right after he finally lets himself use his fire

Todoroki steps into the ring, feeling electrified after his victory against Izuku. He knew you were strong, but as the festival went on he realized he was stronger. Or so he thought

"This is it, Y/N. It's impressive that you've made it this far, but I will be the one to end your winning streak once and for all." He says with a bit of melancholy in his voice, wanting to hurt his darling as little as possible.

You said nothing as the cameras focused on you opening a bottle of what seems to be water. Todoroki tilts his head in confusion "I thought you couldn't control water?"

You smile knowingly, shaking your head right before you force the viscous liquid out of the bottle and onto him.

As soon as it hits him, so does realization. This isnt water...it's oil. He runs towards you in an attempt to freeze your precious body in place, but he's too late. The earth around you both starts to rumble and get hot as parts of the ground begin to break apart. Shoto looks into one of the cracks...

Holy shit

That's lava

You strain your muscles as you bring up the hot magma slowly, obviously not wanting to hurt your classmate. Frozen in fear (or awe?), he doesn't even realize that it has already surrounded him. He's fucked.

"I-I...how...huh???" Shoto tries to form a coherent sentence, but all of his words have seemed to fall into the cracks of the earth and burn.

You smile as Midnight declares you as the victor of the match, pushing the lava back from were it came with your quirk and walking up to Shoto, giving him what was essentially a "good job" hug.

that day is when the whole class went crazy over you

yeah, shoto was a bit embarrassed that he was defeated so quickly, but he was more proud of you than anything

your classmates always want to train with you now, you becoming their first pick whenever they must partner up (the rest of them get jealous, but who cares)

izuku not only has ten pages dedicated to you and todoroki's fight (if you can even call it that), but he definitely has multiple videos of it.

bakugo ALWAYS wants to fight with you now, claiming because he 'needs to show you that he's better' (he just loves your attention fr)

denki and sero take any chance they get to flirt with you and put you off rhythm when you fight with them

unrelated rapid fire hcs GO!!!

the bakusquad helps you with vocal tolerance training (itll make sense if you read the other post), it started with far away whispers and now they can yell with you only being slightly overwhelmed!

jirou has totally eavesdropped on you singing in the shower b4, damn near dying because of your angelic voice (you could literally sing like you have nails in your throat, you still sound like an angel to her)

also i feel like she understands being overwhelmed by noises bc of her quirk, so you guys have both had cuddle sessions to calm yourselves down while listening to each others heartbeats

shoji's mask accidently came off one time, and he was ashamed bc he didnt want his darling to think he was ugly!!! but when you gasped and your eyes started twinkling, his heart damn near stopped. you thought he looked good!!! and ever since then he shows his face around u

momo, iida, and shoto all try to compete with each other to see who can get you the most elaborate gifts.

alr thats all i got rn. dont be afraid to send asks! :3

[11queensupreme11]

Hi! So I don’t know if you’ve seen this trend on TikTok but basically it’s where in couples the girl or guy rank hugs that they would be okay with other guys or girls giving their partners from 1-10: 10 being the worst and 1 being the one they would be the most okay with.

When I saw this I couldn’t help but think what poseidon would rate the hugs guys would give to Percy with 1 being least likely to be killed and 10 being most likely to be killed if she did this trend with him.

Poseidon:

1: self hug (this is fine since she’s hugging herself although he would prefer himself doing all the hugging

2: Polite hug (he’s not happy about it, cause why are u touching my daughter) (he’ll kill them quickly to just be done with it)

3: the classic hug (okay now he’s getting annoyed cause don’t touch his daughter-wife) ( he would give a slight maiming before ending them quickly since it wasn’t intimate in nature)

4: one armed hug (ur crossing into dangerous territory now buddy) (more maiming than the last but still a quick death since it’s not as intimate as it could be and is more of a friendly hug)

5: the patting hug (at this point he’s cutting off limbs starting with the hand ur patting her with) (no more quick deaths w some minor maiming he’s prolonging that shit so hug her at ur own peril)

6: back hug (NO!) (RUN!) (No more maimings just straight limb cuttings (like that true crime audio “her legs were cut off, her arms were cut off, she was a human torso” but like with YOU buddy. (Cause why is ur 🍆 touching her butt)

7:slow dance hug (honestly w this one Poseidon spent a whole day torturing u) (ur missing fingers and nails and eyes and ears—the whole shebang) (and for some reason the only person I can see percy slow dance hugging would be Anthonius so R.I.P Anthonius 🥺 u will be missed)

8: the catcher hug (you prayed for days, weeks even to be free from the tyrant of the sea, to no avail) (Poseidon had literally flayed u alike while making u watch as he fed ur skin and intestines to his mermaids) ( u were awake and aware the ENTIRE time and felt EVERYTHING)

9: the hug at the waist (it’s been centuries and he still hasn’t let u go or just die) (everyday is a new punishment from 🍇 by viscous sea monsters to pushing boulders up mountains Dedalus style to slow roasting u over an open fire day in and day out that you can’t even remember what day it is, what the sky looked like, why ur even still being punished, or what it felt like not to be in endless pain 😭😭)

10: the cuddle (he did everything he did to u in nine except now it been multiple millennia and this time he made percy watch every second of it) (he’s just a guy disciplining his daughter-wife leave him alone🥺)

this is also pretty much on point for most of the yanderes too tbh 😭😭

percy's not afraid to be affectionate with her friends regardless of gender. she will hug and cuddle you if she wants to (with ur consent of course!!! because consent is VERY IMPORTANT *side eyes the yans*). she'll hold her friends hands and vice versa, she is very open to skinship with her buddies!!!!!!!

........which is every yans' nightmare LMAO

these are ancient guys (yes even cu chulainn, he's the youngest, but he's still 1000+ years old i think) and back then girl/boy friendships were seen as sus 😭😭😭 so they're all gonna be pissed at the thought of her having friends of the opposite gender.

they're like "you shouldn't be friends with boys, you're a GIRL >:(" (some will be less harsh with it tho)

but if she was openly AFFECTIONATE TO THEM or if THEY were openly affectionate to her???? oh it's SO over for that guy 💀💀💀

like, this girl has slumber parties in other cabins or they have it in hers, and i also briefly mentioned in older chapters that she even invites some to hang out in her place 😭😭😭, imagine them finding out that she's hanging out with guys and even sleeping in the same room as them 😭😭😭

that's just bizarre to them cuz they're just that old (and also possessive)

[chaoticbindery]

Here's Looking at You Kid

By Messermoon(@sophsicle )

"Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world..."

George wanders into a bar. Nothing is ever the same.

Thanks to Soph for accepting a copy of this story. Apologies for the delay and ups being trash 💀

Thanks to @upthehillart for approving my use of their art for this fic.

Special thanks to the @renegadepublishing server for all your support, advice, and encouragement during the making of these books.

To ups, I hope you never feel the gentle touch of a woman, that your child never hugs you again, and that every time you enter a room, you forget the reason you are there.

Below, I will discuss the process, which will include a lot of spoilers. (But also more pics 😈)

When I heard this story was set in the same universe as choices, I lost my shit a little and read it. Slowly, however, this story began to mean a lot more to me than I could put into words. George's grief over the lost of his soul mate, the struggle to find himself, and Blaise's love, passion, kindness, and confidence in himself resonated to me in such a way that I knew I needed to hold it in my greedy little hands.

I started to think about what I wanted to do and how I wanted to bind this story. I struggle a lot from picking the font for the body text to picking the chapter titles. I finally, after fucking around with canva for more time than I'm willing to admit , I was able to come up with these:

(If you would like the files for anything I used, please dm me, and I will send them to you! I will eventually set up a google drive)

In the story, there is this moment where Blaise casts a spell that creates a constellation, of which George got the inspiration to make a mood ring that created a little sky, and depending on your mood the sky changes to reflect how you feel. He gives it to Blaise, and they have a picnic under the sky, indoors, later at Blaise's party they have such a cute moment at night and so I wanted to implant the sky in some way.

I also wanted to use constellations in this bind. I didn't know how or where. I just knew I needed them in my life. So while i mop over my inability to impelent them, I took a break. So one day, I was reading a book with these very cute corners, and then it hit me. (No, I didn't finish the book i was reading. I was busy stalking the internet, trying to find the perfect image)

After that, picking the page breaks was easy. I wanted something simple since I didn't want the typeset to look so busy that it took away from the most important element of the bind, aka the story. I added a few little things for me in Draco and Harry's 2 chapters because I'm weak, and that's for soph to find all on her own 👀

I will put this here, tho.

Lastly, because Tumblr won't let me post more pictures, here are the endpapers I used for 2 of the 3 books.

As some of you may have notice, there are blues, pinks, and whites in this bind. It's a subtle yet very loud depiction of the Trans flag. It was very important to me to show that this story is of a Trans man that, as soph, puts it, saved himself.

I added all the chapter notes, trigger warnings, and more information about this bind on the typeset itself. Ultimately, to me, this is a form of archiving stories I think matter, and if for whatever reason, technology dies on us, this story will still live on.

The info that's only important to the binders 💀:

Materials list:

Bookcloth: Colibri in color Cornflower, this cloth has a silk like finish.

Htv: I used siser's htv easy weed vinyl with a bit of a pinkish undertone to it.

Endpapers: they are from paper tree nook in the uk

Endband: 2 mm 100% leather with blue viscous thread

Textblock: I used standard 20lbs cream color paper. I used toner to print. To sew the textblock, I use blue linen thread and remie bands gifted to me by my friend duranbinding. I painted the edges using golden acrylic paint, and the charm and ribbon are both from Michael's

Typeset:

(I will edit in this bit later since I made so many changes its hard to recall them all)

[dirtytransmasc]

I hope we get a scene of Alicent with Aegon's body. If her son is damned to die, if she is damned to spiral into insanity, if she is to lose her life too the grief, let me see her with his body.

let her hold her baby in her arms one more time. let her wipe the blood that poured from his mouth and nose as he died. let her run her fingers over the viscous burns that adorn his skin. let her fix his hair. let her bathe him with a cloth as she had when he was a babe. let her kiss his cheek, his forehead, his hair, his hands. let her lay her head against him, hugging him like she had failed to do for years.

he was her firstborn and yet, her heart was still beating and his was not, she was not yet cold in her grave, no, no her son was cold, her flesh was warm, too warm. he was her baby, her son, the boy she tried so hard to protect, who had loved even when it hurt, who she had stood in front of a dragon for. she loved him, the very bones of him, and now he was dead.

let her lose her mind right there, in that room, still clinging to her body, one that's too cold, too still, too quiet. let her scream out to the gods, damning them, cursing them for taking her eldest son, amongst everything else in her life.

I want her to drive away anyone who tries to take him from her, forcing the silent sisters or whoever would be left to deal with his body at that point. let her curse and spit and claw at anyone who comes too close.

she would stay there for hours, reflecting on her memories of him. maybe she talks to him or hums a lullaby until she finally loses her battle with what remains of her consciousness and sanity, falling still against the table.

she dreams of Aegon, she dreams of the life she wish she could have provided, the life she had tried so hard to give him. a life where he was safe, a life where she had been a better mother, a life where she didn't need to live in and impose fear up on her children. maybe if she had tried hard enough he would still be alive, she'll think as she floats in the space between consciousness and unconsciousness.

she'll wake in plain chambers she only partly recognizes, she'll learn of her sons lackluster and sparsly accompanied burning, she'll learn her son was gone and she was alone. there won't be much of her left to care. she just continues dreaming, dreaming of her dead children and spiraling to madness until her broken heart finally gives out.

[my previous post inspired this, cause all I can think about now is Alicent mourning her son and its gonna put me in an early grave]

[onyourowndaisymae]

Hey Daisy!

Idk whether you still accept requests for the 500 follower event (especially since I already asked one), but could you write prompt #10 "i think we fucked up" for Solomon with the same reader I requested prior (as in a gn/f reader)? Thanks in advance💙

P.s. I loved the latest Sol thirst you wrote, it's just *chef kiss*👌 perfect

ahh yes i do still accept requests for the 500 follower event, so thank you for requesting! and i'm SO GLAD people liked the sol thirst omg. it came to me from literally nowhere. here it is if you didn't see it already (i am proud)

this is specifically set in the nightbringer timeline and inspired the "why can't i come home?" chat

content + warnings: solomon x gn! reader (can be read as platonic if you're affectionate in general), reader is implied to be shorter than solomon

word count: 540

"i think we fucked up."

"who the fuck is we?"

you stare in disbelief at the scene before you. viscous goop runs down the walls of the kitchen. the color is some horrific purple-- you're not sure if it's from solomon's terrible cooking or whatever made the dish explode in the first place-- and the mystery meal sizzles a little as it comes in contact with the drywall.

solomon's not looking at you. he's staring at the burner in a quiet, contained panic, his index knuckle trapped between his teeth as he thinks on what might have possibly gone wrong. his face is one of a man who knows what he's done wrong and is trying very hard to rationalize it in his head.

"... nothing exploded until you came home? so really, this is..."

he trails off, like he realizes the folly in trying to pin this on you.

you want to be mad. you want to be so pissed off at him for making this mess. he knew he wasn't supposed be in the kitchen, and that's why the sneaky bastard waited until you were supposed to be gone at the house of lamentation to craft his wretched creation. you knew this would happen. he knew this would happen. why did solomon insist on cooking when he was so god-awful about it?

but then you sigh, defeated.

you had told him the night previous that you were a little stressed by your obligations lately-- to the brothers, to diavolo, to the future of the devildom. when you arrived home after his suspicious texts, you found him in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up, begging you to just give him five more minutes to finish the dinner he was making for you. it was a terrible idea, really, to leave him alone this long.

he may be an idiot, but at least he was considerate.

solomon's arms wrap around your shoulders from behind as your eyes squeeze shut. maybe if you close your eyes, this will all go away? his lips find temple, and he begins to press soft, apologetic kisses across your skin.

"i'm sorry... i should have listened to you. i just wanted to do something nice for you..."

"you almost set the kitchen on fire, solomon."

"... i didn't think it was going to do that."

silence. he's practically holding his breath in anticipation. as aloof as he usually acts, you can tell he's really hoping you'll forgive him for this.

"well," you start. "i'm going to go grab us something from hell's kitchen. and when i return, i'd really love to have that mess gone."

he squeezes your shoulders in a tight hug and kisses your cheek again. you can feel his muscles relax against your body as he waltzes out of the metaphorical doghouse.

"yes! i'll get everything cleaned up before you get home to make it up to you. that's the least i can do."

the sorcerer scurries off to gather cleaning supplies. you call after him to get his order, but he's gone in the blink of an eye and you don't have the energy to chase after him.

you're starting to think you're never going to get a day of peace in the devildom.

[500 follower event masterlist] // [obey me masterlist]

[lonelypond]

Distance

Wenclair, Wednesday (TV), 556 words, 1/1

Summary: Wednesday's thinking about a certain wolf instead of searching for the mini moon.

Distance

Perhaps from birth, Wednesday Addams thought, perhaps she could measure the effect from then. Her personal gravity, the people orbiting her, the distances they kept. Some, mostly family, were moons, only minor eccentricities in their elliptical orbits. Some were meteors, crashing into Wednesday's atmosphere, destroyed or dispelled before contact. Others were comets, racing by then off into the deep darkness of space, perhaps returning after an extended interval.

The gaps let Wednesday breathe. It allowed her to observe, remain still, an outsider, knife sharp stare slicing into anyone whose axis tilted toward her. A glare could slow rotation, a frown could repel, invisible shields protecting an atmosphere only she could thrive in.

Touch was toxicity, a cloying viscous layer clogging her pores, crushing the amplitude of her lungs. Friendship was a trap.

And yet there was Enid. Enid Sinclair. Wednesday had classed her as a meteor at first, flashing across the deep midnights of Wednesday's sky, bringing temporary colors to the dark, but unable to survive the descent. Or Wednesday's inability to trust.

Boldly, Enid had returned to their shared dorm, after such harsh words from such sweet lips. The distance between them became a comforting constant, an orbit, almost circular, lacking eccentricity. A werewolf moon for woeful Wednesday Addams. How fitting.

Then the hug. Again Enid. Beautiful, bloody, glorious, wounded, triumphant champion Enid, searing blue eyes only for Wednesday. Now surely this was the slam, the explosion, the meteor breaking through the atmosphere, destroying all familiar terrain. But when Enid pulled back, Wednesday reached forward, moved by gravity, by the solidity, the truth, the touch of Enid, crashing into the elliptical arc of the werewolf's arms, a safe haven keeping Wednesday whole.

Had Wednesday been in motion the whole time? Not a fixed point? Not a planetary object acquiring a satellite but a planetary object captured by the undeniable will of a star. With every word, every wink, every step that let Wednesday keep the illusion of her isolation, had each of those been adding their pull to the attraction the blinding bright blonde naturally exuded on everything in her reach. Had Wednesday been drawn into Enid's orbit? How dare a moon be a sun? Could Wednesday's bleak, blackened soul be sunburned by joy?

"Wednesday?" Enid's voice lilted from inside their room. "Have you seen the mini moon yet?"

"No." Wednesday bent to actually peer through the telescope's eyepiece. "I will require more specialized equipment."

Enid bounced out onto the balcony, dressed for bed in a pink crop top, orange pajama pants with cartoon bears, and fluffy, white bunny slippers.

"When'd ya fall in love with the moon?"

"I admire its fealty to our planet."

Enid snorted. "And the army of werewolves it can summon to Earth's defense."

"An admirable skill one might want to emulate."

"So you're learning how to summon werewolves?"

Enid must know. The sun sees all. No side of Wednesday can hide. There are no shadows with the brightness this close.

"Yes."

"How's it going? Got yourself any?" Enid had leaned against the wall and flipped herself, lolling over the wall, upside down and smirking, wagging her arms.

Wednesday turned toward her mocker, raising a skeptic's eyebrow. Enid giggled. Nothing more needed to be said. Wednesday's orbit had been steadily moving from apoapsis, its farthest point. Periapsis would come soon enough.

A/N: Howdy! Idol Fanfic Heaven is having their annual Promptober event and today's was distance, which just suited Wednesday so well. And bonus, today's wenclairtober prompt is werewolf, which also gets a mention here. Enjoy!

[moontyuns]

slow love;

words count: 781 pairing: soobin x gn!reader genre: established relationships, fluff, just a tiinyyy bit suggestive (if you squint) warnings: bad writing, lots of kisses, light makeout session 

song rec.: tender - slow love;

You got back from work earlier today. The day was so tiring as hell and you want anything but make a warm tea and lay on the soft cushions of your couch. With that in mind, you changed into your comfortable outfit and went to the kitchen to make some tea for yourself. While the kettle is heating you decided to check your phone for any notifications from your boyfriend or other friends, but there was nothing. Judging by the time your boyfriend should be already on his way home. The water boiled already, so once you hear the clicking sound you made your favorite berry tea and went back to the living room. Mindlessly you turned on the first show you saw on your recommendations and tucked yourself in a fluffy blanket and grabbed your cup. 

After what seemed like 40 minutes or so, you heard the sound of the lock clicking and the door opened “Hi baby, I’m home” the sweet sound of your lover’s voice greeted your ears. You missed him so much, every of your working day the only thing you wait for is to come back to your sweet little apartment and dive into Soobin’s hugs, while you are tightly secured in his arms you can pretend that the outside world doesn’t exist. The boy now standing in a doorway and watch as you stretch your arms to him and make these little grabby movements with your hands. “Hey lovee, come here I want to cuddle with you” you whined softly and Soobin chuckled at your antics. 

He slowly headed to the couch you laid on, you quickly made some room for him so he will be able to fit. He lay beside you, and you instantly moved your arms to his shoulders and your face closer to his neck. Soobin slowly sneaked his arms around your waist and pressed your body closer to his. “How was your day?” one of the boy’s hands moved to your head and he start stroking your hair. “You know..kind of tough and tiring. My boss keeps demanding from me a lot and my co-workers are the shittiest people as usual. I dreamed for these 8 hours to sooner come back home and see you” you snuggle closer to him and breathed his smell, he is using this cologne that you gave him last Christmas, and you like how it smells on him. “My poor baby, now you can forget about anything with me” he kissed your temple softly, then his lips moved to your cheek. The hand that was in your hair now lifted your chin and you faced his relaxed features, small smile played on his plush lips as he bring them closer to yours. Soobin tenderly kissed the corner of your lips and slightly pulled back just to check on you, he knows that you waited for this but he still keeps teasing you. “Soobin, just kiss me already, I can’t wait anymore” you whined trying to pull him closer, but he tried his best to resist and gave you that smirk of his that you wanted to wipe so badly right now because he does this every time he wanted to play with you. “Nope, let me admire you for a little bit, can you?” his hand ghostly wandered across your cheeks and jawline and you leaned to his feathery touches. Then he brings his face closer to yours his sugary lips touched yours lightly, and you pressed your lips firmer to his. Soobin moved his lips slowly and delicately, setting the rhythm of your kiss, you tried to keep up with his pace. The kiss was soft and viscous, you feel every movement of your lover’s mellow lips and to be honest you didn't want it to end. You felt him biting your lips and with every bite, the kiss got more greedy and messy. He pulled away first, both of you devoured the air that you lacked in your lungs. “Baby, I love you, but I guess I love your lips more, they’re doing magic to me” you chuckle lightly and pecked his pinky lips. “So you wanna say that you date me only for these plush lips, huh?” he acted as if he was offended by your words, but actually he is not, he is fine with this fact.” Of course not! But these fine lips are pretty bonus for me” you softly run your forefinger across his lower lip and smiled. Soobin abruptly took your hand in his and peppered your face with dozens of sweet kisses mumbling quiet “I love you’s” in between while you laughed at the ticklish feeling.

Reblogs and likes are highly appreciated <3

Do not - steal / copy / repost / translate any of my works !

[missholloween]

👻 Trick or treat!! 👻

HELLO. I've decided to translate some of my frantic fanfic fics (done with the lovely @samuelandthesun) for this ask game, BECAUSE THEY'RE SO GOOD! It's such a shame yall don't know Spanish, you're truly missing out.

This one is one of the most recent ones, but also one of my all time faves. These fics either go two ways, incredibly dumb or really ansgty. This is one of the dumb and fluffy ones.

It was a Saturday's afteroon and the sun was hiding behind the city's buildings. Curt and Owen had decided to stay home that day, doing something unheard for them: rest. Owen was continuing with one of his books, while Curt had spent most of the noon half-asleep. They were both enjoying the day.

However, in a moment of clarity, a life-and-death question popped into Curt's head.

"Hey... Owe?"

Owen didn't get his head out of his book. "Yes, love?"

"Would you love me if I was a worm?"

"Love, could you repeat that question?" Owen said, blinking perplexed as he closed his book.

"See? You don't even pay attention to me, always with your books!" Curt whined as he crossed his arms and bit his lips. "If I were a worm, you'd step me without thinking."

"Curt, you're not a worm, you're a human being– What is this all about? Is it really about the book? Curt, you've been sleeping all day, I–"

"But what if I was?! What if I suddently became an insignificant and soft and disgusting being that could barely move and was just bird's food? Would you love me then?"

For a moment, Owen believed he was dreaming. Was that another way to show trauma that he hadn't heard about? Or was it one of those hidden camera shows Curt loved so much? Whatever it was, Owen knew he had to take it seriously, but when he looked at Curt's eyes, he couldn't help but let out a genuine laugh

Curt's tantrum only grew, pushing his fiancé. "See! You don't take my problems seriously."

Owen's laugh only grew, being close to tears. He cleaned his eyes. "Curt, I–"

"No, no Curt! Curt doesn't exist anymore! There's just a sad, lonely, partner-less worm."

"Okay. Worm," said Owen, "of course I would love you."

Owen then hugged his partner from behind, gently caressing his body.

"Even if you couldn't move or if I had to deed yoy. Even if you stopped talking, and you were just a little pink worm with the viscous skin in the world, I'd still love you with all my heart."

Curt curled up in Owen's chest, hiding his face on hid neck as he surrounded him with his enormous arms, trying to reach Owen's heart and hide there from the world. "... And would you protect me from the birds?"

"Yes, little worm, I'd protect you from the birds. And from other worms that wanted to steal your food or say that your hair is ridiculous."

"No, it's not, they just don't know about style! And they also have that shitty hairstyle like– Oh."

Curt had raised his head from Owen's arms, and was now looking at his partner, his eyes filled with love and tenderness.

"That's my Curt." Owen said, booping his nose and making him blush. "Besides, you can't just be a worm. You're more like a cat: one of those bug ones who only want to be pet and be held and who don't really understand why some doors are closed."

"Hey, I'd be a really intelligent and elegant cat- A pageant cat. You, on the other hand, would be a dog. One of those big ones who look like they could rip your arm off but who are the best thing in the world..."

Owen started laughing, bumping his head against his lover's, blushing too. "But what would we do as a cat and a dog? Lie down all day without doing anything?"

"Actually, yes, and we should try it now. You know, just in case we woke up and we were..."

And thus, between laughs and tangled limbs, both lovers rest for the day, being the best kind of animal they could ever be.

[rock-n-onyx]

@silvercaptain24 you asked and you shall receive. Brought to you from the doc named 'hahahah angst sillies go brrrr wars + twi'

Wars huffed and panted. There was a moment of silence before the  howling of the wolfos caught up to him once more. With a groan of annoyance and tiredness, he took off once more. These cursed dogs have been following him for the better part of the day, separating him from the group. Everytime he tries to backtrack back to where they last met, the wolfos would herd him away again.

He was getting sick and tired of this game of cat and mouse. Monster and hero? Didn’t matter, he wanted to rest damnit. He clutched his still bleeding arm in one hand, sweat tickling his neck as he ran through the forest, the thundering of too big paws right behind him. He risked a glance behind him and saw the monstrous dogs right on his heels.

He yelped and ran faster as teeth reached out lightning fast to snag his scarf, leaving a small tear as he yanked it out of its grip. “Hey watch the cape! It doesn’t wash easily you know!” He yelled. He whirled around and brandished his sword in his non bleeding hand, the other slowly dripping blood onto the ground.

He swung, catching one of them off guard and making it disappear into a plume of purple smoke. Good, not infected. He watched the rest warily, ready to swing his blade at the slightest hint of movement. They stood still, watching him with their coal black eyes. All at once they lunged, teeth bared in a nasty snarl and claws ready to rip him to shreds.

He backpedaled, desperate to not catch any of the teeth or claws out to get him. One of the wolfos lunged further than the rest, practically bodying him into a nearby tree. His head snapped back, connecting with the bark with a sickening crack. His vision flared white and his ears rang like bells.

He slumped to the ground, vision wavering. His sword rolled out of his lax grip as blood trickled down his face, obscuring his vision. He heard a snarl and braced himself for the attack, arms raised weakly to defend himself. A yelp cried out, then more snarling and then... quiet. He raised his head, trying to blink the blood out of his eyes.

All he saw was a blood covered muzzle and he tensed, swinging out his arm in an attempt to hit the wolfos in front of him. A surprised yelp and then a flash of black. A placating hand on his shoulder made him flinch, looking up to find Twilight looking back at him, worry in his eyes. That's weird, when did he get here?

“Been tracking you for a while now, cap. How’re you feelin’?” Twilight's voice was garbled, like he was underwater. He felt like he was underwater, he was wet. Why was he wet? He raised a hand to his head, pulling it back and seeing red. Huh, weird. A bottle was shoved into his hands and he stared at it dumbly. It was red and viscous, it smelled sweet though.

Twilight sighed and took it back, lifting it up to his lips. “Drink, capn’. You’ve banged your head pretty hard, you need to take the potion.” Oh, okay. He could do that. He blanched at the taste though as soon as it hit his tongue. He turned his head away, but the rancher stubbornly lifted the bottle once more. “I know it tastes horrible Wars, but you gotta drink.”

Reluctantly he slowly drank the potion, if only not to drown in it. He could feel the warmth radiate through his body as his wounds stitched themselves together again. All of the sudden he felt immensely tired. His eyes drooped and his head sagged against Twi’s chest. The rancher wrapped his arms around him and pulled him to his chest, hugging him close. His eyes finally shut as he fell asleep with a content sigh.

[sketchyelvenasss]

Undying Urges <—Ao3

Wc: 412 Ship: Astarion x Rexander(original Durge/tiefling)

Angst/Hurt&Comfort/Fluff

What if Whither’s resurrection wasn’t enough? Is a thought I’ve been thinking about the past week.

The air is thick with the metallic scent of blood. Rexander’s eyes are shut, but he feels the viscous warm fluid drenching his clawed hands up to his elbows. His head pounds with pain like it’s about to be split open. A voice deep and full of malice resounds in his skull.

Oh petulant childe. Did you really think you could live without me? Your bones and flesh are of mine. As long as you breathe air, you will never escape me.

Then he opens his eyes. Astarion’s naked body is on Bhaal’s altar in front of him. Throat slit, chest split with heart and entrails exposed and spilling onto the stone. His eyes were wide and still wet from tears. Rexander, unable to stop, buries his hands back in the open cavity, one moving to grasp Astarion’s heart. A heinous laugh erupting from his throat as he squeezes until the organ pops.

“No!” He sat up, finally in control of himself. The room was dark and his headache still drummed in his ears, but thankfully the urge seemed to be gone. As he focused on long, deep breaths he brought his hands to his face. Relief washed over him to see them not covered in blood.

Then Rexander felt cold hands on his shoulder and chest. Astarion was there in bed with him with a concerned look in his red eyes. He wanted to pull his love into a tight hug, but he was terrified of himself.

“What’s wrong, darling?”

“I felt the urges again… heard Bhaal in my head. I-I’m scared it might be more than a nightmare.”

“If you want me to tie you up again, you only need to ask.” Astarion smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. After a moment he wrapped his arms around Rexander, but the tiefling held his own hands back.

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Neither do I.” He teased as he pulled back just enough to look him in the eyes. “But, we have lived with the urges before, and if we have to we’ll do it again. I am here for you, my love.”

Once more Astarion hugged him and slowly Rexander returned the embrace. With his hands on his back he could feel the raised edges of the infernal script carved in the skin. Yes. They were in this together, through whatever may come.

“Love you.” Rexander whispered before burying his face in Astarion’s chest.

“I love you more.”

[faundlydreaming]

Get to Know my Tav!

I found this through @mistercrowbar! Love their art and characters!

Fianna "Fi" Astara || Asmodeus Tiefling || Beastmaster Ranger-Bard || She/they || 26

((The bard part of Fi is still new to me in game so I'll have more details as I level them up :P)) favorite weapon: Bow and violin. Fi likes to keep a distance by using her bow for various attacks/aoe's or use her violin for bardic spells to buff or occasionally go on the offense by being sassy(viscous mockery). She also likes being a bit sadistic by using dissonant whispers to instill terror in her enemies.

style of combat: She likes to play it safe from far away (though occasionally delights in up close combat when given the chance.) She tends to use spike growth when she can funnel enemies through it while others utilize spells to slow them down even further or keep them within the spikes. Her bear, Ranka, uses goading roar to distract enemies from her and her allies while Kilbern (raven) flies in to blind enemies and then flies out of reach.

most prized possession: A painting of her old companion, Sebastien, as well as his collar. Sebastien had been with Fi ever since she was a child and was the only creature keeping her alive who truly cared for her. They were inseparable.

deepest desire: For a true home and family (aside from her animal companions). Her blood family and old friends betrayed her trust and treated her awfully. When she meets the bg3 companions, she ends up forming a found family as their adventure goes on but it takes quite awhile for her to open up her heart to them. When she finds Astarion and they eventually get together, she finds that they have a bit in common and that she can be completely vulnerable with him after some trials and tribulations. She first befriends Karlach though, and they go through lots of shenanigans.

guilty pleasure: Cuddling. She is touch starved and has trouble with physical contact, but she really just wants all of the cuddles and hugs from her favorite people.

best-kept secret: Her past full of bullying that evolved to torturous levels, as well as other events in her past. Eventually she opens up to others aside from her animal companions.

greatest strength: Her unwillingness to give up and continue striving to believe in others even when she has lived through otherwise. She knows its cheesy, but its what keeps her going nonetheless.

fatal flaw: She has an awful habit of deflecting her vulnerabilities to others, feeling more comfortable having more knowledge on others than they have on herself. She doesn't outright lie, but she does feel as though her issues are minimal.

favorite smell: The scent of her wolf companion who she considers her daughter, Sasha.

favorite spell or cantrip: Spike Growth. Try running through that to chuck an axe through her head while she takes cover behind her more bash-bash-stabby-slicey friends.

pet peeve: She's surrounded by animals who she feels are family. Sasha, her wolf (daughter), Ranka, her bear (brother), and Kilbern her raven (son). She constantly has to pick out fur and feather off of her clothes and food.

bad habit: Any lost animal she finds who needs a home she will bring back to camp, whether the others like it or not. "But they neeeed ussss. Look at how sad they are!"

hidden talent: She can learn things quickly, but if she doesn't use that knowledge, forgets just as quickly.

leisure activity: Playing various instruments and attempting to sing (can hold a tune but that's about it) and dance (while occasionally tripping over her own tail).

favorite drink: Honeyed Ale. So much ale.

comfort food: Shark Coochie boards or cheese/meat in general.

favorite person: From the non animal companions, Astarion (partner), Karlach (bestie), and Wyll (brother figure). Her animals plus Scratch and Roary (owl bear). From her past, Terran (ranger mentor).

favored display of affection (platonic and/or romantic): Hugs and laying on one another. Once she gets over her touch issues and feels trusting towards others, she loves long hugs or just snuggling up to someone. She's constantly snuggling her animals or lounging on them.

fondest childhood memory: Meeting Sebastien for the first time <3

I have no one to tag :'D But feel free to have at it if you'd like to.

[napkinscrawls]

.Standing up for them. .Displays of affection.

Water!Dewdrop & Custo!oc ft. Ifrit | 678 words | human oc | implied unhealthy behaviour | de-escalation

Dewdrop was a feisty water ghoul who didn't know how to fit in. AO3

The room drops into silence. Dewdrop stands there proudly, jutting a claw at Ifrit, having not so much crossed a line as held it over his head & laughed. The other ghouls watch with either irritation or amusement, waiting for the reply that was currently boiling inside the fire ghoul.

Ifrit's mouth twists into a viscous smile "Baby's first tantrum?" It is a warning shot.

One Dewdrop ignores. "What? Yer don't like being put in your place?"

Ifrit's foot pivots on its heel to face Dewdrop. Before his body could fully turn to face the water ghoul, an arm pins Dewdrop's outstretched hand to his side & another clamps around his other side. His instinct to fight is met by unmoving muscles.

"The fu-" He starts but is interrupted by the burning laughter of Ifrit, the fire ghoul's eyes dance with light. Dewdrop scans the room to see all the ghouls returning to their activities, none of them had disappeared. He looks down to see the almond forearms of the Custos, her sleeves bunched at her elbows. Dewdrop stills as he tries to process the situation.

Eleanor Eulogy; Ghoul Custos, human, 5'2", sweetest thing on the topside, has him in a back hug he couldn't move from.

That's not strictly true, he was moving, just backwards, & not by his choice.

"Cart him away, boss!" Ifrit taunts. Dew hisses at the bastard, shoulders twisting but his legs go limp as he stops fighting Eleanor. The woman herself nudges her head against his ear.

"I heard you." She whispers, lips unmoving so only he could hear her.

Dewdrop's throat closes & he relaxes. Unbeknownst to him Eleanor is staring straight at Ifrit; a silent question to the fire ghoul on whether he's going to keep escalating this. Ifrit answers with a snort & waved hand of dismissal. To everyone in the room he appears merely bored of the situation, but the fire ghoul's response was closer to a reassurance to Eleanor he wasn't hurt by what had been said.

Pulling Dewdrop out of the room the Custos is faced with a new, more volatile issue. She guides the young ghoul into his room & sits him down on his bed, landing gently beside him. The two sit in silence as Dewdrop comes back to himself. Eleanor didn't want to rush him, she waited for him to make the first step. Eventually he asks with a hoarse but light voice.

"How're you so strong?"

Eleanor adjusts her skirts, tilting her head in consideration before responding primly "I pray to Satan everyday for strength," she drops her serious tone & leans in, "though I think he misunderstands my meaning."

Dewdrop shoves Eleanor over, scoffing. She falls onto the messy bed, giggling & getting one half-hearted kick out to his shin as she goes. Dewdrop hisses at the contact but deflates instantly. He rubs his shin absently & doubles down. "Why'd you stop me?"

Eleanor raises a brow at the ghoul from her reclined position. "From painting the common room with your blood?"

"You think I'd lose?!" Dewdrop whips his head to her, offence forcing his voice high.

"I know you weren't planning on winning." She counters.

Again Eleanor took the wind out of Dewdrop, so easily picking the words to silence him. He recoils at that. As he gathers himself she sits back up, watching his eyes dart at the floor. Ready to react. Dewdrop sighs, "That's not- So I wanted a fight! Ghouls tussle! It's our thing!"

Eleanor doesn't answer. Her look is devastating enough.

"You gonna stop me? Everytime?"

"I won't have to." Eleanor touches his shoulder & turns him to face her "It feels uncomfortable but you are settling in with the group."

He scoffs.

"Mountain was already moving before I got to you."

Something reflects in Dewdrop's pale blue eyes.

"Yeah." Eleanor assures him.

She goes to release his shoulder only for him to take it in his hand. "Will you- just 'cause-" He mumbles through the end.

With a smile Eleanor hugs him "I'm not one to ever pass up the chance to hug you, Dew."