#and they bite (metaphorically and literally)

[umbravirtus]

Lucifer nodded, agreeing to deliver her message as requested. He chuckled at the gang members’ teasing—an affectionate jest, no doubt, as he’d eventually refer to them as such. His gaze shifted to the spread before them, a feast for both the eyes and the appetite. He waited for Hel to make her first selection, a gesture of deference, before daring to touch anything himself. Everything looked exquisite, almost too beautiful to disturb. The care and effort poured into this presentation were otherworldly—literally.

Certainly, the bears on the soup took the metaphorical cake. And there was literal cake there too, small bites of it anyway. He was giddy to partake.

A small smile played on his lips as understanding dawned. This was a love language for Hel. The memory of when he’d once crafted a charcuterie board for her surfaced, and he resolved to do more of that—to create and share these gestures she so clearly valued. It was a reminder of how love, in all its forms, is best shown through actions that speak directly to the heart.

Lost in thought, he was brought back to the moment when he felt the cool weight of the key resting against his sternum and her hand just above it. He glanced down, meeting her gaze with curiosity. Gently taking the key between his fingers, he studied it before asking, his voice soft and reverent, “What is this, my love?”

His budding scheme made no impression on Hel. Only his smile. And his kiss. "They're legitimately outside the door," Hel chuckled. And on cue, in they came, not an ounce of embarrassment on either of their expressions. Hel smiled at them both and then at Lucifer, "They had meant to give us a moment."

And as if finishing her thoughts, Ganglöt added, "Hard to be done when you are psychically linked.."

Ganglati snorted as he started setting up a picnic on the bed behind Hel. It looked like the inside of a Tik Tok mother's Bento Box; Fruits made to look like animals, Cookie cutter sandwiches and little thermos bowls of soups being some of the most eye catching pieces.

"Give her my love?"

Hel was sad to see him go and also glad he wanted to. She adored having her loved ones close but it was always present in the back of her mind that they ought to be elsewhere. Further from the heart of death. Her realm, that is. Her heart had proven thus far inescapable.

"Knowing them, they will find some profound moment. A blue moon or an eclipse. Something grandiose to mark the occasion." Even as her tone dripped with sardonic derision, she couldn't say she minded the thought. Their coming together had been wildfire and earthquakes. Cosmic. It was only right their union was the same.

"Whenever you like." She pressed her hands into the matress and lifted herself up to her feet. A little shaky but she covered for it fairly well. She dipped her left hand into the intersection of her robe and though she was supposed to be fully unarmed and naked underneath, she seemed to pull something loose.

Without word or warning, she slipped a leather cord around his neck and carefully laid the key at it's end right over Lucifer's sternum. Her nose wrinkled as she smiled up at him.

[kittykatninja321]

Very deeply annoyed by the fanon idea that Talia treated Jason like a pet or a tool when he was catatonic, because when you actually read lost days you can clearly see that Talia is literally the only person who looked at Jason while he was catatonic and still saw a person and treated him like a person while everyone else around her (Ra’s and the doctor she hired) was ready to dismiss Jason as an empty shell

[krshush]

I'm sure this post will be funny as I finally maybe learn the whole story of whatever's going on, since I'm still quite early into Metaphor, but. Just.

I cannot stop thinking about how Metaphor's protagonist+party place their hopes and dreams onto the Prince, the way he's sat so high on a pedestal. Just,,,

You're the Prince. You're young, but you're also your father's son, so he's passed on his ideals for the world to you, so hopefully the world will be better under your rule one day. But you're the only prince, and so an attempt on your life is made. It fails in the short term, but now you're cursed, and it'll kill you slowly. You're cursed, and it's impossible to break, and nowhere in the Capital is safe anymore, so a few people your father trusts whisk you away from the Palace.

You make perhaps the first friend around your age, a boy on the lowest rungs of society, survivor of his village burned by your people. He still listens to you, talks with you on equal ground. You share your favorite book, one that ponders utopia so unlike your world, and you and he share the same starry vision for a world that's equal for all. He's the last person you speak to before the curse spirals you into sleep.

And sleep and sleep and sleep. For years, the curse grows stronger and you and your body fight, but start standing weak against it. You're proclaimed dead by your kingdom, and your curse-caster kills your father, The King. Your first friend grew up into a young man, and is sent away from you(r body) to help the last resort of saving you: killing the man responsible.

Because you have to become King, after all. It was what you were born for, if the tradition of the Kingdom has one thing right. You're the Prince, and you're kind, and clever, and good at magic, and actually alive. Along his way your friend makes friends, comrades who hang their hopes all on you (the ones they don't already hang on your friend)

Because, of course, you'll make it out of this alive and fine. You will. You're your father's son, and rightful heir to the throne, and actually alive. Right?

Do any of these people say your name when they speak of you? How do they know you'll be just right as rain for Kinghood after nearly a decade comatose? Your father wanted a world free of strife, of equality for all under its banner, does this not include you for the burden of upholding his ideals?

You were just a little boy who got cursed. No matter how well-spoken, how talented, how befitting the title you were molded for. How inspiring and horrific then, to be the holder of such high hopes.

Time marches on, and the age of a new king draws nearer, is spoken by a storyteller over your sleeping body.

[dyinggirldied]

Crackship of the day: countess Rosalia x Lilian 'Lily' York

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

yk if i didn't grow up in a constant state of emotional repression, id probably be a disaster right now

[svtskneecaps]

i still haven't gotten real baghera and rivers interactions have i........... like the barest of interactions......... a drought........... i was so fucking curious...... i am still so curious............ twenty minutes of conversation and i would be fed forever............ i'd never ask for anything again.... baghera wasn't even there when bolas was doing the whole hostage situation she was off doing her own thing.......... i'm so curious........... i want to know..... what would the dynamic be........ how would they interact............ i'll never know.............. crying...........

[tomatoteddy]

*comes out of the milgram mv covered in blood*

W-Well, I didn’t expect that to happen

[tragicclownwrites]

🤡

[magpiesbones]

worst thing about being disabled is that now I am fully and completely aware of exactly how much I am worth to everyone I know. And it is not a lot!!

[wallbeatjournal]

Hiram covering the costs for Fred's funeral must have been a huge deal for you.

okay yes. but why do i detect a tone of judgment!!

[creativebrainrot]

thinking about how maelgwyn is with physical touch&affection,,,,,,

complete stranger/acquaintance? do not touch. do not hug. he will bite you. he will scratch and be mean and bite.

complete stranger thats really into the desert beast? you can Absolutely Touch him baby the desert beast doesnt mind, we could even kick it up a notch if you think you could take it.

friends tho? no touch. hug? = bite :/

close friend?? 2 touch. per month. no hugging. only dudebroguymyman type pats on the shoulder and the like.

bestest friend??? congration!! you now have a hugging license!! u can now redeem 1(one) hug per week. he will no longer bite if u hug him. if u hug him more than once a week he will maybe growl a little and grumble but no bitey anymore.

literal closest person(s) to him in his life? he let you in and you stayed and loved him and he loved you back and gave you his heart and you cherished it like the most precious gift you could be given?? please, for the love of the gods, dont stop touching him, please hug him and pet him and kis him and tell him u love him PLEASE dont stop touching him. please. please never let him go. he is hugging YOU now and he will not let go.

[quietwingsinthesky]

leviathan!charlie also takes care of the weird plothole about her going from “hunting & hunters are scary and dangerous wtf get away from me” to “oh wow murdering people is soooo fun, guys!!! i just wish it was more magical!!!” because in this scenario it is not her going into hunting and somehow being in complete denial of the bloody reality of it, but her actually regressing to more violent tendencies in order to keep in contact with the Winchesters, who are basically the only friends she has.

leviathan!charlie who teamed up with them to take down dick specifically so that she would not have to act like she did in purgatory and could find a new life, but inevitably being drawn into the black hole of hunting/winchester-related violence. leviathan!charlie who sets out like vampires can to feed on animals…. and the occasional asshole, but that one shaky spot on her moral ground gives her room to backslide into seeing the monsters she hunts as just more assholes to eat (regardless of the fact that they are her!!! she’s a monster too! she just got lucky siding with sam and dean first!) leviathan!charlie who tries to hold onto the humanity she painstakingly taught herself, but the longer she’s around the winchesters, the harder it is to be anything but a monster.

[tragedykery]

I fucking love werewolves they’re sooo versatile. they can be serious or silly or even sexy. they can be a metaphor for literally anything. creature of all time methinks <3

[nycteres]

Current insanity level: coreographing mental amvs to All-American-Bitch

[umbrellamedic]

How do you need to be touched?

Cautiously

your teeth are bared, as they have been, your jaw aching for so long as growls slip free. you always have to defend yourself. you lash out in fear. you need someone who does not shrink back… a hand falling slowly to your shoulder, however briefly, in a reminder that you do not have to lunge. there is no danger here, now.

I answered all but one question different from my other blog... got same result?? but both are VERY ic as much as the answers were so.... ??? but it works???

Stolen from my other blog \o/ (originally from @sanguine-salvation for other blog but still) Tagging: @priceforeverything @ubcs @outbreaksurvived @manufactoredxbyxdesign

[jakebark]

🧵

“Oh..?” Philip looked surprised at the sight of the saboteur in such a tangled situation. He stood there awkwardly, at a distance safe from any possible biting.

“Do you… Need any help? Who did this?”

[@algebra-of-infinite-night]

Waking up in unfamiliar woods was unpleasant on its own. Even worse, finding oneself unable to move well, tied with scratchy rope around his wrists and one around his left ankle, an annoyingly short anchor to a tree that kept him from scrambling off even with his hands tied. He’d tried to get into a better position to loosen the binds which had him sitting on the ground, having worked his hands from being tied behind himself to maneuvering them in front, albeit now tangled in the rope attached to his ankle. However, by far the worst part was being found.

He jumped when someone spoke with a ragged voice and he looked up to see the far-too-tall figure of the Wraith, who he hadn’t even noticed in his distracted struggling. Immediately he was on edge from the killer’s presence, as well as just irritated that someone actually had to see him like this.

“I’ve got it handled,” said Jake very sharply, who under no circumstances looked anything like he had this particular situation handled. “Do I look like I need help?”