#but his brain and body wont accept that

[ninyard]

Andrew shutting down and purposefully going numb and Neil being so very upset and distressed about it but not with Andrew himself just the situation is something I don’t see enough I think. I think the entire trial Neil would actually be so jittery and on edge, he has this need to do his lil meddling thing he does but what is there he can do other than his presence, being there if Andrew reaches out, and making sure Bee will be there for Andrew? He is ready to spring into action and commit murder the second anyone even looks at Andrew in a way he doesn’t like. Andrew is retreating into his own mind and trying to block everything out and Neil is trying to be calm but every inch of him is charged up like electric build up and he could spark off at any minute

YESYESYES

i think neil would feel like. as useful as a concrete parachute. he has NO idea what to do. he's grown a lot since coming to psu, learning how to be a good friend, a kind person, a normal and well adjusted person, but this? this is an andrew he has never had to navigate before and it drives him CRAZY.

all andrew wants and needs is for him to give him space when he asks, or to just be in the room and say nothing. andrew is happy with that. but neil feels like hes twiddling his thumbs while andrew is imploding. he's restless and anxious because he feels like he needs to be doing more and THAT pisses andrew off more than him doing nothing at all.

maybe one day before the trial, andrew asks him to leave him alone, because his fucking buzzing around is pissing him off, and neil. oh neil. he just nods and says okay because that's what andrew needs but he still has to stop himself from being like, are you okay? can i do anything? do you want me to call bee?

and andrew doesn't need any of that. he knows it, andrew knows it. andrew just can't be a person at that point in time - he barely has the mental energy to talk to bee, let alone neil or kevin or anyone else. the energy he does have goes into these meetings with aaron and his lawyers and for a moment maybe it feels like hes withdrawing into this pre-medication andrew, weighed down and isolated by his depression. but he has to do it. neil understands that. he doesn't blame andrew for it, either, but HE'S like a live wire swinging around just waiting to hit off of something.

anyone says anything about andrew's disappearance/mood the week before the trial? anyone makes even the smallest comment about andrew? there is far too much restless energy inside neil that no amount of running has been able to help with - he's kicking off. he's screaming at his teammates across the court, he's yelling at kevin, he's storming off after threatening nicky for some stupid comment he made about andrew taking the stand. he's SO tetchy and unpredictable, because neil has NO idea what to do with himself when andrew withdraws in the intense way that he does the week or two before the trial. (and the longer he isolates himself for, the worse it gets. day one or two neil can handle. day ten and he's like a rabid animal)

[sukunasteeth]

Taking Care of a Tired Sukuna

Sukuna has had a long day.

Well, night.

Morning.

Fuck.

Working construction had been twisting up his sleeping schedule. At this point, Sukuna was starting to feel it in his body; in the strain in his muscle, and the aches and pains that randomly gripped him.  

They had him working on a new project that could only be done at night, while the public was off the main roads, and that meant his new work hours were starting from sometime in the middle of the evening and ending in the morning or the mid-afternoon. Being nocturnal wouldn't be so bad if his commute home wasn't during rush hour. The traffic was always worse when he just wanted to crawl onto his couch and fall asleep there. And when he does come home at the end of the day - he's aching, exhausted, and every bone in his body is vibrating with the noise from a jackhammer or the hum of a forklift.

Sukuna has always liked something that keeps him busy, interested, something that tests his strengths. So, he can't say that he hates the job, but he does wish that it wouldn't occupy so much of his time. He's wont to forget things when he's so wrapped up in a new task.

Like today, for example, when he finally swings his truck around the front of his apartment building, barely making it off the freeway without murdering someone, and he spots your car parked there in his spot.

He starts a bit, his sleep deprived brain suddenly spinning as memory serves him. 

That's right. You were supposed to come over today after he got off of work and spend the night- and he didn't plan a damn thing. There's no flowers in the backseat, he didn't stop to grab lunch for the two of you, he doesn't even have anything in his fridge for dinner tonight, besides a few forgotten beers tucked away in the side door.

As Sukuna searches for a parking spot much further down the street, he knows he should be disappointed with himself, but he can't help the touch of excitement that's suddenly dissolving the exhaustion from his muscles. Sometimes, Sukuna resents the fact that you manage to reduce him to this. He hates that he can't control that his heart skips a beat at the thought of seeing you again, like he's in some sappy romance novel.

But it was the hold you had on him, and he was starting to accept it.

~

You got to Sukuna's apartment about two hours before he was scheduled to be home. It was a day off for you, and you woke up with butterflies fluttering around in your chest.

You were giddy to see him. You always were. And not a single butterfly has died in your heart-space for him since the moment you met Sukuna, around two years ago. He has tended to each of them since then with his gentle but stubborn touch, although, he would never admit it.

You adored him for that.

It's still early in the morning when you use the key he had made for you to unlock his front door. Immediately upon stepping in, you're hit with how dark his studio is. The sun had risen over the horizon hours ago, and yet, the only hint of its light came from a small gap in Sukuna's blackout curtains. When you pull them back, you turn around and wince at the room behind you.

Yep, he's working too hard.

There's construction tools all over the house; sitting on the counter, in the sink, on his bed-stand, there's even a huge oil covered machine beside the front door that you nearly trip on in your trek over to the curtain. His coveralls and work clothes are strewn across the living room like he's been too exhausted to even make it to his bed at the end of his days, which is not very far from the couch. Meanwhile, his bedroom and the kitchen look nearly immaculate, telling you he hasn't cooked in days and confirming your suspicions about his sleeping arrangements. You wander over to his fridge and pop it open, sighing hopelessly when you're greeted with nothing inside.

Good thing he has you. 

~

By the time he makes it home, it's around one in the afternoon. You've got his laundry hanging on the clothesline outside, more in the washing machine, and all of his tools and odds and ends have been sorted and dusted clean. You've opened every window he has, and cool, fresh air sweeps away the oppressed darkness his apartment held before. Everything was back in equilibrium. 

When his keys jingle outside the door, you're just finishing up the last of folding his laundry. Sukuna steps inside, and your heart aches at how drained he looks despite the way his eyes widen as he peers around the room in surprise. His clothes are covered in dust from the construction site, and there's a smear of dirt on his cheek that makes him look like a chimney sweep. There's a tool in his hand that looks rather heavy, straining the muscles in his arm, but he seems to have momentarily forgotten to put it down. Half moon circles are embedded under his eyes, but they only bring out the intensity of his gaze. 

"Hi 'Kuna?" You chime, calling his attention to rest on you.

He blinks, taking a moment to process the situation. You don't recognize the glimmer in his eyes then, and part of you starts to sweat at the thought of him taking this all wrong. Sukuna had never been particularly picky with you, but vice versa, you had never done something like this for him before. He never gave you the opportunity, after all. Out of the two of you, Sukuna was usually the one who was always effortlessly put together.

"You... cleaned..." He notes. 

You swallow, "I did but I didn't move things around though. Just tried to put things back. Your laundry is right outside and I got you some groceries-" Sukuna drops the tool in his hand without warning, and you start talking faster, your voice raising a pitch as he starts towards you. "Okay, thinking back, I guess I should have asked. Maybe texted- no, you hate texting. Maybe called-"

“Did you clean the paint specks off of my air compressor?” He was standing in front of the machine beside the front door, which you painstakingly made sure not to ruin in your cleansing, despite having no idea what it was. 

When he looks at you for an answer, continuing to close the distance between the two of you. You swallow the rock in your throat. “Too much?” 

He’s made his way across the room and his surprised expression finally settles into a familiar hungry grin. He grabs you by the hem of your jeans, yanking you roughly towards him. You catch yourself on his chest, making a small noise of surprise. When you look up to scold him, Sukuna is an inch away from your face, his lips almost brushing yours, save for half a centimeter of space between them. He smells like sawdust and menthol, you can taste it in the close proximity as he greedily takes your breath away. 

“Off. Now.” He growls, but his fingers are already undoing the button clasped in the front of your pants. “I’m about to fuckin’ eat you, sweet thing.” 

~

You end up skipping lunch, but you're well satisfied a few hours later. A certain hunger: satiated. Sukuna is resting peacefully beside you. You can hear his even breathing against the sound of the cicadas outside, screaming in through the windows. Seeing him so content, sets your heart at ease and you release a sigh of relief. 

Now, to end the night, it was time to slip out of bed without him noticing to finish folding his laundry. 

Or so you thought. 

As you carefully peel back the blankets and try to sneak off the side of the mattress, a warm pair of fingers loop themselves around your panty line, effectively preventing you from going anywhere. Guiltily, you peek over your shoulder to see Sukuna glaring at you with half of his face still smushed into his pillow, genuinely disgruntled with the fact that you were trying to leave his bed. You can't help but chuckle.

"I'm just gonna go grab your laundry." You reassure him, brushing a tousled tuft of his hair out of his eyes. The knot between his brows deepens.

"Let me do that later. C'mere. " He tugs on your panty line, confident that you'll be submissive for him.

The sun outside was casting tall shadows on the walls of his bedroom and the glow was now deep and rich, telling you that it was preparing to set. You didn't want Sukuna's laundry on the balcony all night, which is what you were sure would happen if you didn't go and grab it now.

You hear a thread rip in your panty line interrupting your contemplation and, quickly, you grab his wrist, squeezing it as a signal for him to let go.

He continues to hold fast, his brow cocking in a silent dare.

"'Kuna, come on." You try, "Lemme take care of you-"

"You've been doing nothing but take care of me all day." He scoffs, like the idea of it is absurd to him. Rarely does Sukuna allow you the opportunity to show him as much care and adoration as you have today. Being doted on was not typically something he enjoyed. You knew that, and that's how you also knew that he was exhausted to his bones that day. "Get your ass back here."

There's a tug again, and another thread snaps somewhere. You pout at him, already having the foresight that this pair of panties wasn't going to last you long either. Your partner had the tendency to rip them off of you, and this wouldn't be the first pair to become a shred of what they once were. To be fair, he was also known for giving you his credit card and telling you to go buy "some things for him to see you in", so it would be at no cost to you. But, you happened to like this pair.

Sukuna watches you consider your options silently, unrelenting in his hold on your lace. When you peek up at his gaze, testing one more time, you know you've already lost.

"Don't make me chase after you." He warns, the promise of your inevitable surrender is evident in the predatory glint of his eyes. If Sukuna had a tail at that moment, it would be swaying back and forth, preparing for a pounce. "It's been a while since the last time I had you tied up. I do miss those sweet little bruises we left on your wrists."

You feel the hair on the back of your neck stand at attention upon his recollection. The last time Sukuna had you in ropes, you had to call off of work the next day. Your backside stings with the memory, but half of you can't help but ache for it too. Tied up in Sukuna's bed while he was forced to care for the boneless pile that was his girlfriend, drunk off of his lovemaking? That wasn't the worst place to be.

But, on the other hand, you could tell how exhausted he was with the new construction project at his job. You have a flashback of showering with him at the end of the night and scrubbing sawdust out of his hair. Having to gently prod and kiss him awake as he fell asleep standing up in front of you. You were adamant that you weren't going to do anything to tire him further tonight. 

Before you can properly give in, Sukuna must have decided that you were taking much too long to obey him. 

His other hand reaches over and winds around your lower waist, pulling you backwards into the soft cushion of the pillows and easily flipping the two of you so that he’s mounted above you. In your surprised stupor, he collects both of your wrists in one of his hands and pins them above your head. 

"You've forgotten how to follow directions again, kitten." His murmur is like velvet against your ear. His teeth graze over his favorite spot on the nape of your neck, where he’s already tortured it with his teeth and hickies. You didn’t realize how raw the skin was until he bites you there, drawing a whimper from your throat. 

 "Let's remind you."

[ffredmujkic]

Spellbound -Siouxsie and the Banshees (thoughts underneath)

I hate edward twilight so much but im fucking obsessed with his fucked up dynamic with shilo. Shilo is very narratively treated like a girl. In fact he's the perfect girl in his helpnessless. hes a prince stuck in a tower, he always needs a man to come to his aid (deacon, arthur, emizel), he is characterized with stereotypical female traits (not wanting to get dirty, cant fight, a smooth talker, innocent in ways that makes him sweet and naive, he wont assert himself)

it makes me want to go insane with how much edward takes away Shilo anatomy. A theme constant throughout shilo life, his mother forcing him to live in a tower, deacon taking him away from the arthur and emizel, arthur taking a protective role in shilo life which leads him to thinking he has authority over shilo shown in the midnight circle when he says they didnt ask for his permission . Edward drugs shilo for shits and giggle presumably to ruin his night and to embarrass himself because it was a hallucinogen. The drug being administered when he forces shilo to drink from a body, a form of drinking shilo's body doesnt accept. Edward kipnapping shilo into his bed changing his clothing (pjs and later outfit). The entire blood bond, first drink being when he was unconscious and the second under false assumptions.

Going back to shilo’s lack of control its done to him by adults far older than him. Shilo gets treated like a child, one that needs pampering and protecting. While frustrating for shilo he is only 18 within the story, barely an adult. These adults being, his mother, deacon and arthur (to a lesser extent) all of which are people he seeks out for protection. he leans heavily on them to provide him with food, blood. And Edward in his second appearance tells shilo he can teach him, be a guide for him in the strange lands of LA. Edward tries to liken himself to the level of care taker that arthur is to him, while also maintaining a romantic aspect to their relationship. The trope of waking up healed in ur love interest bed. this older man the age of his mother taking card he’s fed (with edwards blood)

Sorry i dont have an end to this, if u want me to tag this with something please say what and i will. Just need to get whats haunting my brain out

[gatorbites-imagines]

Eddie Brock (and venom too!) x FTM reader where eddie and venom love to touch and caress reader especially when readers feeling especially dysphoric.

Eddie Brock (and Venom) x ftm reader

Headcanons

First of all, Eddie and Venom would not treat you different in any way for being Trans. Eddie has always been very accepting, and Venom doesn’t see gender as his species is pretty much genderless, and he just prefers male pronouns.

They wont fully understand dysphoria since they aren’t trans themselves, but they’ll do their best to be there for you. Be that holding your hand when your doing testosterone injections, or if you use T-gel. They’ll also get you a binder, or get you in contact with surgeons if you want surgery.

But if you didn’t want to go to a doctor, Venom can probably do some of the changes to your body if you wanted, like removing your uterus if you wanted it gone. He’ll just go from Eddie to you, chew up the bits you didn’t want, and go back to Eddie afterwards.

But if you want to changes or treatment, they wont mind at all, since you’re a man in their eyes no matter what. They both see gender as something up to you, so even if you come out after you’ve started dating, they’re nothing but supportive.

Eddie also lets you wear his clothes if you want, since sometimes wearing male clothes can help with dysphoria and feeling more masculine.

Venom is the touchiest out of the two, though Eddie loves to be in physical contact with you as well. Venom just creates limbs to grab you and pull you into hugs, he also takes control of Eddies body to hold you.

When you and Eddie are kissing its not uncommon for Venom to shove his way into control so he can kiss you instead, he’s had to learn to summon lips though since kissing sharp teeth isn’t the most attractive thing, unless you like that kind of stuff.

When you are having dysphoric days they both make sure to love on you an extra amount, with lots of kisses and cuddles, they’ll also pick you up and carry you to the couch or bed so they can cuddle and kiss you even more.

If you have days where you don’t want to get touched because of dysphoria they’ll find other ways to comfort you, like bringing you your favorite snacks or watching your comfort movies.

They are also the type to go out of their way to go pick up a gift you book you like, just because. Eddie shows his affection through gift giving for the most part, whilst Venom is more physical affection and bringing you meals.

Venom always purrs up a storm when he nuzzles against you, almost like a big affectionate alien cat. Eddie doesn’t purr, but he still likes to hug you from behind and cuddle into your shoulder.

Expect a lot of grabbing and touching from this relationship, since they’re both touchy people, and Venom expresses most of his love through it. Venom also uses the excuse that it creates positive brain chemicals to cuddle.

[hanasnx]

https://www.tumblr.com/hanasnx/722047232208142336/you-ever-think-about-how-anakin-fucks-the-anger

anakin would be absolutely ruthless too. he has your head stuffed into the pillows, his big hand pushing your head down as he fucks you relentlessly. i feel like he’d get you so close to finishing and he’d pull out just to fuck with you. you pissed him off so much he’s practically using you just for his own pleasure, to make himself feel better.

— link.

i was actually commentating on how anakin would use sex specifically to make you think he's sorry when that couldn't be further from the truth. he only apologizes when he knows he's in the wrong, and a lot of the time he believes himself to be in the right— contrary to how you perceive it.

he'll distract you from how cross you are with him because in your opinion he was in the wrong. so i don't doubt he fucks you like an animal. fucks you like youre a slut underneath him. fucks you so good you're brain fried because that is exactly his purpose. because he still doesnt believe he was in the wrong, wont admit it, and won't apologize for it. laying terrific pipe was merely a diversion so you'd forget to force him to lie to you, and say he regrets whatever action caused your discrepancy with him. and using you for his own pleasure is definitely a very on-brand and normal thing for him to do. the bottom line is is that you're into that, and he does his best work to you chasing his own pleasure. i swearr

if he's the one mad at you because of your mistake, i can definitely see him considering not letting you finish. but it wouldn't get past threatening dirty talk. when i picture anakin and his relationship with sex, flat out orgasm denial would not agree with him no matter how angry he is with you. edgeplay is fine, it's complete dissatisfaction that he has a problem with. for him, finishing is a healthy and necessary part of intercourse, and he thinks of it pretty transactional-ly in the sense that if he's already gone through the extensive work for him to have sex with someone, and accept them as a partner, i doubt he'd have an easy time walking away from them when he's fucked them to his own completion, but not theris. he believes it reflects poorly on him as a lover, even if he's upset with you for a mistake you made. and yes, he's prone to using your body to make himself feel better and this extends to any number of things. this is my personal interpretation of his character ofc. great ask!

[stars4gojo]

Haunted

Dad!Gojo x fem!reader // fluff, little angst towards the end // 547 words // Gojo is a girl dad😆 // tsumiki & megumi both included

Gojo thinks he shouldn't meddle with other people's business since he can do whatever he wants as the strongest - he took one chance with Megumi and Tsumiki and even if he won't ever admit it out loud, he definitely thinks he won the lottery for that.

Gojo is a girl dad. That much was clear when at the age of 17 he had walked in with two children and immediately formed a special bond with the 7 year old girl. 

 Although, on the first day you had officially adopted Megumi and Tsumiki you had given them a long talk, explaining how you and Gojo were not their new parents or replacements for their parents but were simply their guardians who will take care and guide them. However, all those efforts were thrown out the window two months later when Tsumiki had shyly approached Gojo one day asking him if he would attend parents career day with her. Gojo had initially hesitated about accepting the offer, knowing that walking into her school as a high schooler calling himself her dad and even using that as a career wont set the best impression. But, once Gojo noticed her lightly flushed skin as she fiddled around with her fingers shyly he had agreed to go to school with her, “just this one time.” He thought. 

Soon that ‘one time’ grown into a second, third and countless more times. He chuckles to himself as he looks back at that day. Now it’s Tsumiki’s graduation from middle school and he’s tying his tie properly trying not look like a ‘homeless bum’ according to you. 

And before she even got up on stage he was the already loudest parent in the room, cheering even louder when Tsumiki proudly walked on stage with her little hat and gown and it made you laugh when you saw how your once shy and moody daughter had turned into such confident and bright girl.  

There was also no doubt that you and Megumi had grown closer, even if you denied the fact that you don’t play favourites, megumi was clearly yours so, Gojo in return had naturally grown closer to Tsumiki simply because she was kind enough to respond to his idiotic ‘jokes’ and even going as far to comfort him when he’s butt hurt by yours and Megumis lack of reaction to them. 

So on Tuesdays and Wednesdays when you picked up Megumi to go to the field with him for baseball practice after school - Gojo would leave work early to pick up Tsumiki so he could take her out. 

Together they had countless shopping sprees, salon trips, sometimes even staying home to have a ‘spa day’ which was just Gojo sitting pretty and getting his nails, makeup, and hair done by Tsumiki and even if the nail polish was smudged, a new bald spot formed on his head and your very expensive make-up was completely destroyed (which gojo would have to replace later) you had no choice but to not be mad when you came home to the sight of your boyfriend and all dressed up looking pretty. 

Now he sits there and watches Tsumiki’s lifeless body lay still, unable to help her. He blames himself for this, thinks he should be able to help her as the strongest. There is nothing he can do but cling onto the good memories, trying to convince himself that this is just a bad dream he would wake up from but everything feels too real as yours and Megumi’s silent sobbing grows louder. 

Sorry this is so short, my brain is literally so burnt out w all the school work here is some of my other work 💓

Masterlist

Kind of inspired by Taylor swift Seven

[rcksmith]

Last night of the world — Five Hargreeves

You can find the 3 request here: anonymous 1, anonymous 2, anonymous 3.

Resume: Luther's wedding was an ironic joke for Five Hargreeves, especially with the apocalypse knocking at the door. But, that night, when Five looked at you and his breath escaped his lungs, he understood his brother. Beause he would marry you too on the last night of the world if he could.

Fluff prompts:

5. ”Don’t smile at me like that. You know it drives me crazy.”

11. “Wow- you look…amazing.” 

15. “Because i love you god damnit!”

16. “I love you. You enormously stubborn pain in the ass..” “I heard that!” “You were supposed to!”

20. “How am i supposed to spoil you when you wont accept my gifts?”

40. “Come cuddle.”

Couple: Five Hargreeves /Fem!Reader.

Warnings: just swearing, little angst, mention of death, VERY FLUFF.

Word count:3k.

A/N: Spoiler from season 3.

Because I have a lot of requests in my box, I compile 3 orders that are similar and put together, but I took care to added all the elements that were asked for individually, and made sure that all ideas were respected and written down. 

We not tolerate any pedophilia here!! I write about Five with their 20s. I write the same about the characters of Harry Potter, MHA and others fandoms.

English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.

Requests are OPEN. Love you ❤️

———

He can remember to this day. The taste of heaven on the top of his tongue, his heart suddenly racing into an uncontrollable rhythm, the sensation of an icy shiver coursing through his body and igniting a hot flame deep in his chest. It was like seeing the muse of a Renaissance painting: exciting, destabilizing. And all your splendor made the soul of Five Hargreeves want to kneel for you in eternal devotion.

You were breathtaking. And even after years, he can still remember that moment.

Five is not a man who is easily impressed, nor is he snatched by any woman. He is firm, rational and practical. But meeting you… in all your glory as a God-decorated angel, made him want to admit the existence of the divine and drown himself in your religion.

It only took a few months for Hargreeves to realize that the earth's rotation only made sense when you were by his side, directing smiles towards him that made he feel like he was in the heart of the sun, that awakened the will to…be good. At least the best possible, for you. To have the illusion that he could deserve you.

Maybe if Five Hargreeves tried to be a better man when he was by your side, he could fool the gods, life or fate, that he deserved you. And so no one would take you away from him. Maybe.

The relationship of you two was something inevitable, unstoppable, Five held you like it was a miracle and didn't dare let go anymore. You were one of those once-in-a-lifetime things, and he wasn't going to risk losing you. But, lucky for Five, you loved him just as much as Phyllis loved Demophon.

There was an unspoken promise surrounding the love of the two of you, the unshakable conviction that you would remain side by side, until the end of the world.

"You are so lost in thought." Your voice snapped Five out of his reverie, bringing him back to reality.

A reality many years later. Where the end of the world knocked at the door, once again. Where his dysfunctional family was trapped in that strange and confusing reality. A reality where, in the midst of impending death, Luther was getting married.

When did time go by so fast?

It was at that moment that the blue eyes with ocean hues were in your direction, and just like so many years ago, Five lost his breath, his reason and his understanding of the world. The red silk clung to every curve of your body like an embrace of perfection, your skin was glistening under the lights of the hotel's ballroom, leaving you looking like a fantasy too good to have come true.

Holy fuck.

“Wow-’’  His voice got stuck on the way from brain to mouth, too perplexed how someone like you could be real. “You look…amazing.” 

The sincerity in his voice, charged with a tremor and veneration, made the hairs on your arms stand on end and your heart race like horses in a race. How, after so many years, could he still look at you as if you were the most beautiful deity among the Greek gods? There was a pure love deep in his eyes that always made your soul tremble.

"You look wonderful too." You flashed a big smile, running your hand down his arm. “I love you in a suit.”

Five made a mocking sound, like a half laugh, as he looked away for a second before turning his attention to you.

"You always say that."

"Because it's true"

Your body came close to his without hesitation, being greeted by Five's warm arm around your waist. His touch became firmer as he pulled you a little closer, as if, unconsciously, he firming up territory.

“What were you thinking?” He looked at you in an inquisitive way “When I arrived. What were you thinking?”

"In you." His answer came as firm as his grip, and your heart leapt in chest. “More specifically the first time I saw you.”

There was something about the way Five Hargreeves looked at you. Something mysterious, passionate, hot as the fire of sin and sweet as the gates of paradise. Something that made you feel like you were living a true love story. Emotions curled at the top of your throat, and you knew you would cry if you uttered a single syllable. So you just laid your head on his shoulder, snuggling into the person who was the reason you were still breathing.

“What are the plans for tonight?” Your voice came out when you were sure you wouldn't cry, looking back into his eyes.

“My only plan for tonight is to get fucked up beyond all recognition” Then his mouth got closer to your ear and became wicked when said "And fuck you so fucking hard that I'm going to break the bed"

Hot shivers licked up your spine to the back of your neck, heat in your belly rose to your eyes, and you smiled broadly, full of sinful expectation.

Five's promises were never in vain.

”Don’t smile at me like that. You know it drives me crazy.” he said.

Your cheeks flushed and you smiled even wider, the blood pulsing hard in your veins, following the same rhythm as your passionate heart.

Hargreeves bit his teeth as he tightened his grip on your waist. “You teasing little thing.”

You laughed loud, letting him lead you to one of the tables and you said softly  “I love you. You enormously stubborn pain in the ass...” 

“I heard that!” 

“You were supposed to!”

----

No one knew - or cared - what time it was, the height of dawn was always perfect for rampant alcohol and dubious behavior. Nights were made for choices that weren't made during the day.

At that moment, forever was in that ballroom, with drunk people and loud music. The colored lights pulsed like a car engine, contributing alcohol to cloud and inhibit the rationality of everyone in the room.

The world was ending and each one there found a different poetic meaning for the situation.

Luther found his in his wife, Klaus clung to his father's plans and lived that night not as the last, but as the beginning of something, just like Ben. Viktor found his in the peace that existed in the idea of - finally - putting an end to that drama of apocalypses, which followed him from timeline to timeline.

For Five Hargreeves, his poetic meaning was you.

His eyes were heavy and his mind light, but he would have to be completely blind for not recognize that, whenever he looked in your direction, you were the most breathtaking girl of the universe.

Would he stop venerate you as a goddess? No.

He stood there for a few seconds, next to someone he didn't care who it was, his eyes completely mesmerized on you. Like you was the most dangerous siren at sea, and he was just a sailor totally at your mercy.

Your body, trapped in that fucking maddening red silk gown, was covered in a fine mist of sweat that lit your skin like pirate treasure. Your hair was unruly and coming out of hairstyle, but the strands that fell under the lap of your breasts took his breath away. It should be considered a cardinal sin the way your body was moving, and Five would have dropped to his knees for you if he could spend eternity there, watching you dance.

“I don't think I've ever seen you look like that.” It sounded like Klaus' voice, but Five didn't want to take his eyes off you to check it out.

“I don't have any expression on my face.” He said the first thing that came to his mind, even though he didn't believe his own words.

How could anyone keep a complacent expression when you looked like that? So miraculous that Five questioned his sanity. There was something about you that kept him wrapped around your finger, so fervently in love, whipped with just one look you gave him. Your image was like a renaissance miracle, a glimpse novelists had of paradise.

God sure was a woman…because there was no explanation for you being so divinely beautiful.

“she’s just…wow”

Klaus must have said something, but Five didn't deign to pay attention, his concentration too focused on the way your body moved, the sway of your hips that moved his ocean. Your every move was a tsunami on his sea, every twirl was a rotation on his Earth, you were shaking Five's entire existence and didn't even notice.

You may have fallen in love with him first, but he fell in love hardest.

That's when your eyes met his, in a fatal connection that made Five's soul tingle. Your smile was the second shot at his sanity, and at that moment, at a stupid wedding, Hargreeves wondered why the hell he never made an event like this be a moment of the two of you?

Why did he never ask you to marry him?

And in that second, watching you dance with Viktor, he found no reason not to.

Fuck it.

With each step Five took toward you, charged with purpose, the more the sense of certainty inside him grew, like a thunderous sound.

“I'm going to have to steal the most beautiful woman of the night.'' Five told his brother, who tried to hide his laughter at his drunken, uninhibited state.

A delicious flush crept up your cheeks, coloring your skin to a shy tinge that made Five want to run his tongue at the maddening color.

“All yours” Viktor was still trying not to laugh as he handed you to his night-black-haired brother.

“Come cuddle.” Five's drunk voice teased you as he pulled you as close to him as he could.

“You know that the most beautiful woman of the night is a bride, don't you?” it was your first speech as you settled youself with his warm, masculine, possessive hand on the small of your back.

“Not for me.” His voice brushed your jaw, lowering to your neck as if Five were inhaling the scent of your soul. “Never for me.”

Five was drunk, you knew that, he smelled like expensive whisky and masculine cologne, but there was something about his sincerity abounding in his drunkenness that made your heart pound. Hargreeves could be very good at hiding his feelings on a day-to-day basis, but that fell apart when alcohol drowned out his demons.

Was that what he thought whenever he looked at you? That you were the most beautiful woman, in every single night? Did he look at you with that oblique glow and in his mind he secretly venerate you?

You've never wanted a positive response so much in your life, because that's exactly how you feel about him. Your heart has long had the name 'Five Hargreeves' tattooed in red-hot iron, and the wish you've asked the shooting stars is that yours would also be tattooed on Five's heart too.

it wasn't too much to ask...

“I love the way you smell.” You buried your nose in his neck, letting the male body rock you completely, just not touching you with both hands because he held a bottle of whisky in his left.

Five let out a sound that could be described as disbelieving laughter. "i've been drinking for hours."

“But I can still smell your real scent.” You joked, reaching up to the back of his head whit your hands.

Hargreeves rummaged his shoulders, in a way to draw your attention to his face, pulling your eyes from your favorite hiding place. When you did, there were so many emotions pouring out of the blue Egyptian eyes that made your soul shivered.

“What do I smell like?” A question so innocent, pure, almost childish, but one that was able to quicken your pulse as quickly as a wildfire.

There was no hesitation in your voice as you replied: “Home.”

A hot feeling licked Five from head to toe, shaking his structures and revoking all the foundations of his life. It should be a crime for you to say such things. It should be a crime for you to be so beautiful that it physically hurt. It should be a crime to be that passionate for you. So, whit his chest sinking with overwhelming emotions and feelings, Hargreeves made the only coherent decision: he kissed you.

Kissed you because his ribcage would explode if he didn't. Kissed you because every cell in his body screamed that no longer belonged to him, but to you.

Mine, mine, mine. That's what Five thought as drowned the sins on your heavenly lips.

“I want to marry you.” His voice was still swallowed by your lips, because he refused to pull away.

"But..." one more kiss ''we already...'' one more kiss ''we're married.''

"No." the firmness in his voice shook your heart  “I want a stupid wedding like this stupid event. I want to hear the idiotic speeches of my father and my siblings, and say that I want this hell to end when in fact I'm reveling in the fact that everyone is gathered just to see my wife. Because i love you god damnit! '' his statement left no space for a answer, because Five swallowed your breath with another incendiary kiss “I want to see you in white, and recite silly vows when in fact my love for you is much more than these ready-made words. I want to give you my last name, keep you by my side as the only Mrs. Hargreeves… I want… why the fuck have I never asked you to marry me before?!”

Five couldn't tell if you were crying or smiling, but he was relieved by the tight way you were holding him. Of course it wasn't the best of statements, he was never good with sentimental shit, but something in the way you looked at him shocked said he said something very right.

“I should propose to you in a better way.” His speech was cut off by a hiccup from the alcohol. “fucking hell…'' his gaze wandered slowly across the room and stopped at the stage, where Ben and Klaus were singing some horrible bullshit ''I already know…'' his drunk mind went back to you again ''I'll sing for you.''

Your laughter overcame the tears, and the automatic question left your mouth. “Why,babe?’’

"Because I want to make a decent proposal, give you something more worth telling people about later."

You were going to say a thousand things, but Five cut you off by the look in your eyes "How am I supposed to spoil you when you wont accept my gifts?”

Five Hargreeves didn't give you a chance to argue, didn't give you a second to recover from a breathtaking statement, and you felt like crying in anger at yourself when he was already away from you, on his way to the stage. You wanted to say that you loved him from the first second, that you worshiped him more than the Greeks worship Zeus. You didn't need a proposal, a big wedding, a official celebration, you always knew you were his wife. And you wanted him to know that too, wanted him to understand that, nothing he wasn't ready to do, you would push him to do. His reserved and sour nature wasn't a problem and you were always completely happy with what you had. Because that meant having Five on your side.

You've never considered yourself a big fan of such public displays of affection, you've always found proposal in open spaces and with people around cheesy, but...but the way Five smiled at you on that stage, microphone in hand and bottle of alcohol in another, it made you question all your tastes in life. That scene was worth it

The truth was, Five would hang the moon in the sky for you, and you'd do anything to keep that love and happiness in his eyes whenever he looked your way.

[tai-janai]

ok continuation of the protector au

most of the voices can no longer see any good in the princess, because the Protector (reminder that he's the Hero) already planted in our brain that she truly cannot be trusted.

The princess, whether you take the blade or not, does plan to end the world.

"The world put me down here. If you help me out, you will be spared when I do end it."

and your choice comes there.

The Voices all keep the same core aspects, but have different goals or motivations. The Arms represent the ways the Princess has left her effect on You. With almost all of them, instead of sending the vessel to the shifting mound like they usually do, they completely want to kill her.

The Paranoid becomes Repulsed by what the Princess becomes, afraid in a way he wasn't in the source material. He is more willing to attack her, but less confident in it. The Protector has to encourage him to help the body kill her.

The Cold becomes the Aloof, one of the least trusting of the Narrator because he still doesn't like the "reward" they are given, but the Protector doesn't hate that we ended ourself, so he is less standoffish towards the others because he isnt judged for how he feels. After all, it is a defense mechanism, and the Protector can recognize that.

The Stubborn becomes Enraged because the princess defeated him along with her. (She still says 'this was fun' but in a much more sinister way) He wants to kill her, but he plants the thought in our head that she can only be defeated if we die. His doubt affects reality. the Protector initially supports his enthusiasm, but becomes hopeless when he realizes that it is all in vain.

The Opportunist becomes the Plotting; cruel and twisted. He takes the Protector's words and twists them how he sees fit, wanting the princess to suffer as much as possible by befriending her before backstabbing her. The Protector is kind of afraid of this one. He may want the princess dead, but he doesn't wish harm upon anyone.

The Contrarian becomes the Errant, and wishes for something different. You know its fucked up when the Contrarian equivalent becomes the voice of reason. Unfortunately, the Protector isn't a big fan of this option until the Errant does show up and shows a way out that seems the most safe.

Unfortunately for the Skeptic, nobody here is willing to give him any answers. The Narrator has his Rules and the Protector knows what happens when the Long Quiet becomes aware of the situation. Most voices accept this, but the Skeptic becomes Vexed. He actually becomes similar to the Cheated, where he believes he deserves what everyone else has, but has no way of getting it.

The Broken doesn't change much. he will still fawn over the princess, believing her to be much more powerful than anything, and completely inevitable. He just doesn't want to be a part of it once it is gone; but that isn't an option for the princess. she needs the long quiet to reach her full potential. She wont show "mercy" to the Dismal.

The Smitten becomes fully blind to the Princess' blaring red flags, committing himself to her fully as long as she shows any sort of returned affections. In the Damsel route, i think id have an end where you ask her too many questions, and she attacks you, but the Hapless is blind to her danger, and lets her. She is only getting close enough so that you let her use you to enact her plans.

The Hunted becomes less of prey than he had been, enacting purely on instinct so that she cannot win against him continuously. From hunted to Ferine, he will keep the body moving and standing. The Protector is also kind of afraid of him and his determination. I think, in this Beast route, there would actually be a branch where you can defeat her.

Last but not least, the Cheated becoming the Steadfast. He becomes the closest to the original Hero, urging us to improve ourself, though his extent is unhealthy. Like before, he just wants one of the worlds to be safe. At some point, he has to beat the princess. The Protector tells him that they're doing more harm than good... but it isn't a win, so it isnt enough. Not until the Protector cuts them all off.

[here-there-be-drag0ns]

Not a chiptune shipper, but could I suggest Chip warming queen up when the air is cold because he just radiates heat (before the spider arc)

Or Queen putting there hat on Chip and it falling over his eyes

AOUGH GOD YEAH JUST!!!

Up on deck on a brisker kinda windy day and theyre both doing idle work,, maybe chip's checking ropes and queens patching clothes or sails or something. And despite their coat and layers the cold is cutting right through to queen cause their clothes are more designed to be unique and pretty than they are for keeping them warm.

and queen is Shivering but doesnt want to go below decks yet cause its nice being out here with chip this doesnt happen often he has captains duties all the time why would she willingly give up the rare moment?

but chip notices her shivering and he just puts the ropes he was checking down and opens his arms and goes "queen, c'mere"

and queens bewildered cause for all of chips touchy-ness he almost never accepts hugs and now he's here offering one unprompted? Queen's just Blinking at him.

But Chip gestures again almost impatiently like "i can fuckin' see you shivering from over here, man. get over here."

and damn like fuck is queens gonna turn down a chip hug when hes offering so he lets himself flop into chips arms and chip pulls him in closer to his chest and tucks him in close.

And queen feels the tattoos along chips arms and chest start to heat up even more than chip's already high natural body heat and its so warm. and the quiet crackle of the magical flames flickering is so so soothing.

chip rearranges his hold so that queens arms and hands are free. "there you go, now you can still sew and your hands wont be so shaky."

but queen has honestly completely forgotten what they were even working on because their face is so bright red and their brain has bluescreened because of the implication that chip intends to just continue to hold them to keep them warm and holy shit-

as for the other idea imagine them being silly and queen steals chips hat and plops their hat on his head instead and puts chips captain hat on their own and their hats looks so silly on each other that queen is giggling and chips petulant whining of "queen you cant just go around stealing pirates hats like that-!" breaks off into laughter as well.

[whole-circus]

やあやあやあ！！！元気ですか？

良かったら何かリクエストしたかったのでとにかく--!

could I request any of the creepypastas with a ftm reader who’s basically like urumi akamaki from alice in borderland please? this can be seen as platonic or romantic btw :)

ありがとうございました！

素晴らしい一日をお過ごしください!

Nina the Killer and Eyeless Jack with ftm Urumi Akamari like reader!

➥ Hi hello!! Im actually pretty fine, comparing to other days lolol. Hope you are fine too!! Ohh i remeber my huge AiB phase lol. Anyways here you go dove!!! If you wanna someone specific too then feel free to inform me, I will always gladly update!! :) Ah im so so so sorry that you waited so long :((

˚　　✦　　　. ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚. 　　　✦　　˚

Nina the Killer

You and Nina are definitely pretty similar in some aspects - even if its hard to believe! Nina tend to be pretty..well pretty crazy and insane, so its not like you will be freaked out by her..! From the killing part to some stupid ideas (for real, every adult who would see what she wanna do would  clutched one's head in disbelief). Sooo, I guess she would need someone like you! With your tendency to be total control freak, you can easly make most of decision for her and Nina would even thank you! Also she isnt scared to take any risk, as i said earlier - Nina is a bit of adrenaline junkie!! Your a bit distant and mysterious mask would be the perfect balance to Nina, who is really out-going and a huge chatterbox!! And your fake persona will perfectly match hers!

When it comes to you being trans, she is such a huge sweetheart i swear!! Well, by accepting and not treating you any diffrent she isnt doing anything super special - its just the bare minimum! But Nina is always ready to soothe you if you feelin dysphoric - she tries talk to you and she never ignore your feeling, all you say and do is valid! Be ready for lots of complements - she means every single one of them! You are the coolest boy she had ever met, how could she not like you??

Eyeless Jack

Okay, Jack just loves smart people!! Is all into brain > body thing, so you are perfect! He is an intelectual person (demon, im sick), and appreciates these things in people. With you, being all two-sided and often using manipulation in order to get what you want - man, you are just his type of person i swear!! He enjoyes psychological games, and will gladly team with you against someone..you guys will be partner in crimes 100%! Enjoys that you are such a mysterious person, and no one can see through your sweet and cute persona, you have so much power! Would like to see what you are really like, he can guess that there is so much more in you. Yet, i think that Jacks personality makes him easy to get along with, and you kinda seem similar in some aspects. Jack also isnt scared to take a risk, becasue well..its not like he has anything to lose. But he got the right spirit!

Jack absolutey wouldnt mind if you are trans or not - you are still this handsome boy he liked and nothing will change that! He literally would eat kidneys from people that were trasnphobic (thats all what they good at i guess). He is the first one to be always by your side and reassure you how many times you need it if you feel dysphoric. Would also try to help you the best he can, trying to find you some healthy ways in order to make you feel at least slightly better. Jack is also patient, and wont be mad if you yell at him or be mean during your bad days - he gets how hard it can be for you, and wants to be your safe place!

˚　　✦　　　. ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚. 　　　✦　　˚

[owlespresso]

longing. aymeric/reader is a sequel to Slake. tags: hurt/comfort, possessiveness, dragoon!reader, implied estimeric/wol

You’re not completely sure why you’re here. The past few hours are like rainwater down a slope, memories like chunks of dirt and rock swept down hills and crags. Brain smoothed out, moss washed off river rock by the current. Bogged down with rainwater, clothed stuck tight to your body in a vacuum seal, dripping wet and cold onto the lacquered wood of his estate’s floor.

House Borel seems bigger at night, shadows stretched to encompass most of the room, though beaten back by the dimming fireplace. Aymeric was likely readying for bed before you stumbled in through the door like an ambling drunkard, wasted off your own wallowing. He owes you nothing. You left him alone—abandoned him in pursuit of a man who didn’t wish to be found. 

Still, he shepherded you inside the manor yawning threshold and up the stairs, peeled you from your layers with a diligence that still surprises you. The shirt you’re wearing now is his. It smells like him, clean and soft like fresh linens, with a familiar dash of cologne. The smallclothes you’re in are also his. 

He keeps sending you fretful, furtive glances as he flits through the room, shoving curtains closed and fiddling with some things on his desk with fumbling fingers. There’s the sound of the drawers slamming shut, and then he’s heading for the door—leaving you. You bite your lip, push back the carnal, desperate need to follow, follow, follow. To nip at his heels and live under his skin. 

“I will return posthaste,” he jerks backwards to send you a pleading glance, as though you needed any further persuasion. “—do not go anywhere.” His tone is low and authoritative. He rarely ever talks to you that way, but it sends a shiver down your spine. To be coveted. To have your presence so demanded and craved.

When he returns, he pushes the mug into your hands, and moves to sit on the armchair close to the couch. Yet, you reach out and snag him by the sleeve. Without so much as a word, he takes the cue and settles next to you. He’s warm and solid when you press into his side, pressing your face into the side of his shoulder, inhaling deep.

“I take it your rendezvous with Estinien did not go well,” he says, careful and measured, like you are some treasure that will break if handled too roughly, or some beast that will snap its jaws at him the moment he tests your patience. You prefer the former.

“He’s not coming back. Not anytime soon,” you murmur, taking a sip of the still-hot beverage. Before, it would have scalded your tongue and the roof of your mouth. Now, it goes down easy. Another mild perk that comes with whatever it is that you’ve become. Aymeric sighs next to you.

“I cannot speak for our wayward friend. He is never wont to take the easy, worn path, however he will return to us eventually. It seems my presence must suffice, for the time being.” he says with a small, woeful smile. Your heart plummets. He feels thoroughly inadequate and you are to blame.

“You’re not—you don’t need to compare yourself to him. I care deeply for you both. Equally. I just needed closure after everything that happened. Sharing the title of Azure Dragoon has… connected us in a peculiar way. When he left, everything I felt… the disappointment, the confusion, the need for closure—it just became amplified. Unbearable.” you explain, doing your best to illustrate the intensity of your feelings without frightening him. Aymeric has been at your side since you arrived in Ishgard, a constant force of warmth and acceptance. Yet, a part of you still fears he will find you alien, find your dragon-borne tendencies too strange to stomach. “It was like a constant migraine, something I could physically feel. I had to go to him or I would go mad with it.”

Aymeric’s expression softens. The pad of his thumb rubs over your cheek, caressing the skin beneath your eye. 

“Forgive me. I have known for quite some time about the… unique bond you share with Estinien. However, I was unaware of its extent, or the effects his sudden leaving would have on you.” Aymeric sounds troubled as he brings you closer, arm wrapped around you to squeeze. 

“Yes, well—” you swallow, unsure of what else to say. A sudden weariness crushes around your form like the rough, churning tides of the sea. The energy sags out of you all at once. You reach a hand to cradle the side of your face, eyes slipping shut. 

“Are you alright?” Aymeric asks, shifting closer. You can hear the panic beginning to seep into his voice. “Shall I call for the chirurgeons? Wait here, I—”

“No, there’s no need,” you grasp his sleeve, imploring him to stay with your eyes. “I’m tired from the journey, that's all. I’ll be fine after I get some rest.”

“Then rest,” Aymeric says softly, sounding like a soothe but coming as a command. You don’t mind. As the Warrior of Light, countless look to you as a source of inspiration and guidance. It’s nice to let someone else take the reins. 

“Carry me?” your voice is a near whisper.

“Of course,” Aymeric yields to your requests so easily, every time. He even takes your mug from you, gently resting it on the end table beside the couch. He’ll come back for it once you’re settled in bed, and bring it to you. You know already. Strong arms scoop you off the couch and cradle you close to a well-muscled chest. He rarely ever sees battles, but he still finds the time to train meticulously, should his strength be truly needed. Long have you known that he wishes to rest his mantle as Ishgard’s leading authority, but a part of you cannot help but like that he’s tethered here. Safe, within the city’s thick walls, so far from so many things that could hurt him. 

Would he hate you, if you told him as much? Would he look at you differently? You don’t know. And you’re not keen to find out, not keen to lose another treasure.

“Rest now, my beloved.” he murmurs against your temple. You let yourself go limp in his hold.

[dufferpuffer]

Do you think the whole “alpha horny werewolf” trope works with how you see Lupin and his sexual interactions? (Like are there certain times in the month where he could fit this trope? obviously he can’t do it alot of the times because of his health/strength). If so, how do you think he feels about this? Does taking a more dominant/aggressive role make him feel weird after? Does he like it? Does he feel shame? How do you think this plays out with him and his partner? How would he approach initiating sex during these times? How does it differ from how he normally behaves? (Sorry a lot of questions lol)

Erm, Ahcktually 🤓☝ wolves don't even HAVE alphas I don't like the 'alpha werewolf' angle for Remus. I think being a werewolf DOES slowly change his body - because it changes Greyback's - but Remus fights that to seem nonthreatening. I really like his movie werewolf design - because it looks like SHIT. Can't even grow a full pelt of fur… he looks weary and sick, enough that a dog is a decent fight even full of adrenaline at moon-rise.

He isn't a wolf in sheep's clothing as much as he is a sheep caught within the body of a wolf. A passive people pleaser. He never gets worked up at anyone for anything.

He pities Greyback, who bit him at 5 years old, and sympathizes with him.

He doesn't get angry at Severus for revealing his secret - he accepts it, and is so well-versed in scurrying off that his entire packing process is streamlined.

When he AGREES with Sirius' point during a heated argument he doesn't help him - because it would mean going against others in the room.

What does he do instead of argue with Harry…? He shoots one hex - and is GONE. zoom. Harry only see's the ends of his tailcoat.

That's the angriest, most emotional we see him: Coat-tails flapping around a corner while he runs off to sulk. He doesn't wanna argue, he doesn't wanna fight - even about important things. He wont stand up for people. He has no backbone.

I said all that... because Im sick of seeing buff dom Remus Because I think there is a distinction to make: I do think werewolf-brain seeps in at the edges of the Full Moon, the day or two before especially. But its not Alpha wolf. Its just Wolf. Dumb dog. Instinct. desire. Food yum. Head hurt. Sex good. He doesn't have an 'Alpha' bone in his body... apart from his partners ;) I don't think he becomes a drooling idiot (without help, anyway) but he is more likely to do what he wants. Which he never does. He always leaves the last piece of cake for someone else. Wolf brain... doesn't think of someone else. Cake yummy - I eat. It's not that he doesn't care, it's not that he is angry - its that he has stopped worrying. He isn't being dominant - just a little more insistent and shameless. I have a HC, a theory, that your Patronus is based not on who you are as a person - but who you are when you're at your happiest. Remus' is a Wolf. He hates it - I think because he hates the fact that he is happiest when he is a wolf. He stops worrying, stops being overly polite... and allows himself to just be himself, without filter.

How do I think he feels about wolf-brain...? He is so meticulous about how he acts and appears - he thinks it is embarrassing. He is always appeasing people, so forgetting that and just living in the moment feels like he is doing something wrong... Intimacy is a good time to practice being a little greedy. If he is encouraged to follow his instincts like this, and nothing bad comes of it... I think that's incredibly healing for him. Its a necessity. The more times he can let loose a bit, close his eyes and do whatever normal or weird shit comes to mind in the heat of the moment - trust that everything wont go wrong if he follows his heart... good therapy. ...Did I seriously write all this just to say 'Remus is not Alpha, Remus is Good Boy' And if you meant Alpha as in that Alpha/Beta/Omega... I have no idea, sorry. Not my cup of tea. Squicks me out along with 'soulmate' stuff.

[c-kiddo]

(this is a string-of-thought infodump. .. maybe it doesnt make sense but i just felt like writing something about it. . just out my brains. do not yell at me i mean this entirely in a special interest thinking way and not as an argument)

i feel like people get touchy about this but i do think its rly interesting to see, especially in this fandom, sometimes the unwillingness to accept death, i guess? like, thats the one great inevitability.. but people make au’s where caleb is turned to an elf so he wont die before essek, when really him dying within his human lifespan is a just as worthwhile lifetime than one lasting centuries. they can still love each other and care for each other in that time. like, this goes for all characters and relationships in anything really - a short life is a worthwhile life. oh man and especially (ik i’ve talked about this before but i got the ‘tisms im going to repeat it) with molly’s story.. right, like his whole ethos was living as much as possible in what time he had (because he knew, to some extent, that he was in a borrowed body. it wasn’t really his) so he left his mark and got tattooed and had sex and drank and everything else. and then he did die and the cycle continued, the original soul, and then a new soul, in the body. (and THEN taliesin made a character who’s entire purpose in life was carrying people gently from life to death, a gravedigger and priest. are you kidding me thats so cool... and i just want to say how much i love the moment when caduceus reaches down into the earth of molly’s grave and casts decompose... its such a lovely passing of the baton, a definite moving on and a goodbye... i made the earth remember him.. .. waugh.) and then i guess theres discourse now surrounding cr3, which, is odd since clearly Bells Hells are trying very hard to make this not a perma-death. so i just kinda want to see what happens, if marisha wants a new character or not.. (i do very much like laudna tho..) ... ok enough death rambles.. and please note that i dont even mean this as a judgement and maybe its that morbid autism trait people sometimes talk about.. its just very interesting to me. i love thinking about it. i love waiting to see what happens

[definitelynotshouting]

alright WELL expect me to send more than one ask bc I’m awful <33 but THESE AU’S OKAYYY ALRIGHTH I AM LOOKINGGG +_+!!!!

I’ll be nice. I’ll be nice and ask for elaboration on one thing first while I let them simmer in my brain but I would love to hear the brainrot behind the kemetic symbolism 😳😳

- gonna make this easier by not signing off with a name but. an emoji here 🪐 wow. emoji so amaze but it’s eirian HI TOO FRIEND!!

Thank you for waiting patiently for me to answer this, friend, bc this is one of those concepts that i need a lot of time and space to properly brainrot abt bc it just means so much to me

To preface, i am a kemetic pagan, aka, i worship the ancient egyptian gods!! Ive been practicing for a solid decade now-- every so often i'll post something relevant to that on this blog since this is also where i post my art :] this au is essentially me saying "i see all ur religious imagery aus but what if. what if MY religious imagery au" and proceeding to go buckwild with it

Spoiler alert: i will be talking extensively abt kemeticism and kemetic imagery ahead; I will also be using terms the average layman might not be familiar with, so apologies in advance and feel free to ask clarifying questions if you're curious! Also obligatory cw for the canon typical suicide at the end of 3rd life, as well as some body horror/gore but i wont get too detailed with it.

The general premise is that post 3rd life, after Grian jumps from the cliff and falls to his death, he doesn't actually die; instead, broken and bleeding, he climbs to his feet and trails off without a true destination into the desert. His journey is intended to explicitly mirror the journey one would take through the Duat (the "Underworld") and to the Hall of Two Truths, where your heart is weighed to see if you may pass into the Field of Reeds (the afterlife¹).

The other part of the premise is that this fic is also an extended character study; Grian's journey involves one of guilt, grief, self-acceptance, and cleansing. There are a lot of things i want to incorporate into this-- like some of the 42 negative confessions, which is a spell in the Book of Coming Forth by Day (or more commonly known as the Book of the Dead) that consists of affirmations stating that one has not done certain things while in life. These confessions are generally understood less as literal truths and more as a purifying ritual, which is what i plan to use for Grian; there's something deeply heartbreaking about the concept of Grian telling himself, over and over, that he "has not caused pain," "has not caused weeping," and "has not killed" -- and something equally meaningful to me about him finally shedding that weight to actually embody what he's saying.

I also want to incorporate the concept of cleansing with natron, as well as water, and also other rituals used in both antiquity and modernity by my fellow kemetics. Cleansing is a very important concept in this fic: the idea that you are washing away isfet² and inviting ma'at³ in its place is central to the theme of healing and moving on that sits at the heart of this narrative.

Another common theme in the fic is Grian taking the place of many gods in their roles. One very important aspect of this is the continual Weighing of the Heart Ceremony that is conducted in dreams each night during Grian's journey. Grian proceeds to take on the roles of Anpu (Anubis), Wesir (Osiris), Djehuty (Thoth), the 42 Judges, Ma'at, and even the netjeri⁴ Ammit during this ceremony-- by ripping out his own heart, weighing it against one of his primary feathers, and eating it when it proves too heavy. These dreams continue over and over again throughout the fic, with the heart becoming progressively lighter as he begins to cleanse himself of the tragedy he took part in and moves toward the "afterlife," which in this case is Hermitcraft.

Scar, in this case, doesn't have a concrete role so much as his presence is quite literally haunting the narrative. I have yet to get my hands on a copy of Faulkner's⁵ Book of the Dead translation, but once i do i'll have a better picture of what i want to do with him, and how i want to incorporate him into the various pitfalls that come with one's journey through the Duat.

All in all, the fic is wildly self indulgent for me as a kemetic, and a fun way to connect my religion to my current hyperfixation :] thank you for asking about it because i have a LOT of feelings over the entire concept<3 if anyone is curious about the things i've said here, i'm super happy to answer questions about them-- regardless of whether they're about the fic or my religion.

Notes:

¹ in kemeticism, our afterlife isn't a paradise like you might associate with the concept of heaven, or the hellenic elysian fields, but is basically the idealized life of what you would have lived while on earth. I could go into a lot more detail with this (there are a lot of nuances that im simplifying here) but for now this is a good enough explanation.

² isfet is a bit of a hard term to translate, but the easiest way i can put it is the concept of non-constructive chaos. there are many beneficial kinds of chaos (such as those involved in the cycle of creation and balance), but isfet is something that unmakes and destroys. a very big part of kemeticism is casting out isfet and inviting ma'at in its place.

³ ma'at is both a goddess and a concept. it can be roughly translated to "truth/balance/justice" and is the act of creation itself. to invite ma'at is to invite order and balance into your life, and deny anything the footholds needed to unmake you or others.

⁴ netjeri is a relatively new term coined by Rev. Dr. Tamara L. Siuda (Hekatawy Alexandros), the Nisut (or leader) of Kemetic Orthodoxy, in order to shed the culturally christian baggage attached to the translation "demons" (which is the scholarly term). it can be essentially translated as "god-like." the best way i can describe them is as a class of creatures and spirits with a multitude of dispositions and roles, that are not actual gods. some of them however are considered minor deities, such as the sons of Heru-wer (Horus the Elder).

⁵ Faulkner's translation is the best and most accurate translation we have so far. if you see a translation by Budge, fucking run, that man was so innaccurate its actually physically painful

Final disclaimer: i am coming at these explanations of kemeticism from the lens of a modern kemetic pagan who is trying to keep them layman-friendly. while i do my best to make sure the information i give is accurate, i am not an egyptologist, and there are some things i haven't gotten very far with in regards to my personal studies. just keep in mind that there are some things i might have generalized for the sake of convenience, feel free to ask me more if you have questions, and do good independent research if you find yourself curious!! and a massive thanks to anyone who has gotten this far in reading something very special to me<3

[ruthiesrambles2]

Kevin/Martin "I'm working!"

"Mr McMahon, Mr McMahon!" A voice called down the corridor.

A rare thing, someone in Snowpiercer not only knowing his name but being polite about it. Kevin turned to see a man waving him down from the end of the corridor. A firstie, Kevin would guess, based on the clothes and general kemptness of the fellow. Even despite the class mixing they had discovered aboard the train, the non-working class were easy to spot.

Kevin approached the man slowly, pressing his fingers together and tilting his head slightly.

"And you are…?" Kevin said with a forced smile.

"Martin, Martin Colvin. First class. I wanted to make myself known to you, Mr McMahon, because I think I can be useful."

Kevin scoffed audibly.

"And why, pray tell, might that be?"

"I've always found a way to be useful to Mr Wilford before. I hear things," Martin said carefully.

"No thank you," Kevin laughed. "You were a spy for the impostor Melanie Cavill and you think that makes you useful?"

Martin looked genuinely hurt. After all, he couldn't have known that Wilford wasn't aboard the train. Kevin raised an eyebrow, and tutted.

"I…" Martin began.

Martin had been anxious to get on the right side of Wilford and his crew ever since the connection. Being an informant had brought perks before, something that his family were now sorely missing. If only he could get Wilford's right hand man on side.

He accepted the idea before his logical brain could challenge it.

"I can be… useful in other ways…" he whispered, barely loud enough for Kevin to hear. But Kevin didn't need to hear it to know the angle that Martin was taking.

The feeling of the man's hand against his crotch was enough.

The touch made Kevin shudder, his body tensing in anticipation of being grabbed like Wilford was wont to do, an action that Martin misinterpreted as excitement.

"This way," Martin said, gesturing at a supply closet door just down the corridor as he stepped away.

Kevin didn't move.

"How inappropriate. I'm working!" he bristled, and again Martin seemed genuinely hurt.

"But perhaps," continued Kevin, changing his mind last minute, "you'll be of some use to Mr Wilford after all."

[asleepypoet1]

Love

Life stared at me. Its blank big eye caught me in suprise. How so could this have happened? A voice kept Talking in my head, which was filled with doubts. Thus magnificant view one could see from my Position would once Change and turn into a scattered sight. I Long hoped so that no Thing like that would turn into Action but here I was, knowing what would come, even though I feared it utterly. His Hand could not hold me. I thought it could but it never had the ability to even touch mine. So Why regard any effort onto Holding this small piece of hope anymore. The sense wouldn't add up. A far time ago I had laid my trust upon him, thinking that he might be the one to save me from this unending suffering. But as of now, he was in the end just one more of those who I caught myself wasting my time on. He wont understand what thought have been thrown all across my brain till every last cell understood. I was not in the Position to ask him of anything, I certanly understand that, but his Actions have only been confusing me and start to form into accusations. Was he ever one worth placing my trust on? I knew that if aswered with no, this Question could mean severe Outcomes which could destroy my future. But one of These was bargaining me the most. Will I ever find the one to hold on and to trust? Or will I spend the rest of my life searching and not rechieving? Too much of my time has been spend on Fixing other peoples Issues, so I decided to finally work n my own. But is it too late now? Has my eart already died? Will I ever be able to find love after this or will they Always be my only? Its scary to think About dieing alone. The way you wont have a Person to live with you till your very last second is a tormendous thought. I could already see myslef sitting there, on a expensive armchair which stoodon a small balcony, view to the scenery in front of me. WHat will all These fortunes of Money bring me ig theres nobody to enjoy it with? The Thought alone of Isolation scares me. I knew that they would be there, but that was no the same. Such friendship could never replace something intimite like a romantic relationship between two People. It was all over Media. Everybody seemed to have it. But once I thought About the fact of loving someone truly, my heart seemed to shrink. It felt like I was just not able to. Emptyness filled my draining Body as time came. I felt jealous of what others seemed to have, the way their heart started to Pound faster when they came in contact with their Lover, or even just thought About them. I thought that Feeling reached me too, once I met him. Exitment was all over once I could see him again and I hoped that I finally achieved this Long awaited Feeling of mine. But when he locked eyes with her, it only left me Feeling Nothing. I was not at all suprised that he had Chose another women Above me, as his Attention shifted, but also jealousy diddn't await me. I simply just felt disappointed in myself and how I managed to fail again at this seemingly easy game. People tell you "Act after your Needs." but what if I don't feel the Need at all. I never felt it. And Maybe I never will. And in accepting that there is still a Long journey ahead of me to conquer which will not leave without a battle of emotions. I come to think of the idea that my iq came at a Price. In Exchange I might have given my ability to truly love someone. But how could I ever know that. After all Life knows me better than I ever will.