#but that wont change his present

[frog-with-no-therapy]

Getting more visions of the scientist peter au

Miles and Johnny are definitely in the spiderman fan club, no matter how small the club is, and are trying to find out what happened to make spiderman disappear, to know if he's at least alive and well (meanwhile peter is behind them playing chess with the spider-bots )

Also, Peter's "villain" name is cockroach lad. Johnny is the one that made it stick (him and peter where nemisis kinda) and peter is pissed about it, in fact for a month straight he kept throwing ice bombs at johnny whenever he saw him while out on his villain business

Also I need to make it clear that the only reason peter goes for "villain business" (which is just him going around testing his latest inventions, always with no civilians casualties, and Johnny is usually the one who tries to stop him)

Anyway there are two reason for Peter's activity, which are 1) having fun, and 2) making distraction so Felicia can go and steal some essential stuff for his inventions

By the way miles is a spider man fanatic, even tho spiderman was only a hero for like, a year and a half.

Peter isn't sure how to feel about that one

Also I think I mentioned Peter's goal before, and it shouldn't come up till much later in the story, and his goal is to make a time machine to change his past and save his loved one

The reason it's taking this long is cause he's trying to find a way to actually change the past, and not just make an alternate timeline (apparently that what happens in marvel when you go back to the past)

UGHHH SOMEONE WRITE THIS PLEASE I NEED IT OUT OF MY HEAD I NEED TO STUDY

[ilynpilled]

what do u think is jaime’s biggest flaw

oh he has a bunch

Biggest one: his fear of truly confronting things. his cowardice (the brave knight is deconstructed)

Arrogance is a given. His obsession with perception and his ego. His destructive dissociative tendencies and forced detachment. His self delusion and cynicism he uses to enable acts that his conscience knows are wrong. He also often falls into the trap of cynicism when he expects quick results and does not get them. When he makes choices to become better and people keep dehumanizing him and expect the worst from him he gets super frustrated and petty (less so atp, just compare his behavior to Brienne’s reaction when he gives her Oathkeeper and she misreads his intensions vs the gate not being opened for him in ADwD) His misogynistic and classist blindspots. Him weighing his values wrong even when his conscience is screaming at him (multiple examples of this, e.g Jeyne Poole: “her eyes were sad and wary”, “then why do you sound so frightened?”: vows from so many vows speech in conflict: obey your father vs protect the innocent. He obviously chooses wrong. George was telling us the way he changed by the end of ASoS is not enough he is not where he needs to be yet) His desperate want to make his “so many vows” compromise instead of making the correct choice and drawing the hard line he already did at 17. His desire to become Goldenhand the Just (just a mess frankly, gold tends to have negative symbolism in his story, his goldenhand also is associated with violence and is his desperate attempt to recreate his old self, his phantom fingers — again, has to be addressed in a dream.) While we are here also his need for his subconscious to literally repeatedly slap sense into him (his dreams addressing things he refuses to consciously address because it would hurt to do so). His tendency to repeat his father’s dogma when he is viscerally aware that that man is the worst man oat (Lannister sibling parallels! uwu!), unwittingly contradicting it in every way, then trying again. His desire to pursue glory as well as honor (and whatever they mean in the subtext) when the symbolism is very clearly established that the two cannot be achieved simultaneously for him, he cannot ride two horses at once. It might be that both get turn down at the end in some form. The honor related to the KG, and the glory related to duty to house Lannister. I think that conflict is getting picked apart right now with the choice he makes in ADwD to abandon his position/hunting down the brotherhood any kind of glory tying to house lannister pursuit etc to follow an injured and suspicious Brienne alone (mind you he was also riding Honor in that chapter, ntm the half moon). I think both honor and glory are very abstract and are rooted in some form in his desire for love as well (honor and glory paid their parts but in the end it was for cersei is something he reflects on) but “the things we do for love” has to be something not destructive and prejudiced. He is disillusioned by both honor and glory, especially after aerys. “What is honor?” A horse. Like deep down he knows. His arc in AFfC-ADwD was about about taking apart and looking at all of these flaws imo, put him in a spot to make his choice in adwd. and all that matters are choices. He is also an asshole.

[kaurwreck]

for the ask game: LILAC CHARCOAL AND RASPBERRY

anon this is so sweet 😭

[ask game provided below for reference; if you'd like to play, please reblog from OP here:]

[lokh]

i want qifrey to suffer <- actually likes him as a character

[haewangsong]

spiderverse spoilers

miguel is wrong but its okay being proven wrong is a way for him to heal

[i-cant-sing]

Time Traveller au part 8

Part 1 is here. Part 2 is here. Part 3 is here. Part 4 is here. Part 5 is here. Part 6 is here. Part 7 is here. Time Traveller au masterlist is here. Check out my MASTERLIST for more!

Part 9 is here!

Everything around you warped as you jumped off the cliff. You closed your eyes as you heard Baldwin scream your name in agony, the air whipped around you and you hoped that you returned to your house, hopefully with a soft landing.

You fell onto the hard ground on your arm, breaking it. You screamed before biting your lip to hold it as you realised that you had landed... in a forest.

You pulled out your time machine and read the time and place.

1530. Ottoman empire.

Oh hell no-

You tried to change the time to return to your present world, but the dial buttons were broken and you couldnt do anything but hope it'll work again and return you back to your time.

Blinking away the tears, you clutched your arm and struggled to stand up, groaning in pain. The fall had knocked the air out of you, and made your entire body ache as you staggered towards a tree for support.

This has to be- Baldwin must've cursed me for leaving him.

Fixing your gown, you removed your wedding veil to make a hijab and used the length of it to cover your body like a chaddar. Clutching your broken arm, you began walking. Where? You dont know, but you need to get out of the forest first as you didnt pay much attention to "Man V/S Wild" because the first episode you watched started off with Bear Grylls drinking his own piss and you didnt think you'd ever be in a situation where you would need that kind of skills.

"And I wont." You huffed, walking. Besides, the wild isnt the only thing you need to survive. You're a lone woman in a forest where good samaritans arent the only ones to cross it. And you dont think you have a fighting chance against strangers with a broken limb.

The sun was starting set by the time you made it out of the forest and you saw a small cottage. If it wasnt for the old woman tending to her chickens outside, you wouldnt have approached her. But alas, thirst and exhaustion overtook stranger-danger and you walked upto her.

"W... water?" You croaked in Turkish, sweat dripping down your face as you clutched your arm. Yes, you learnt the language as a child when there was no cable and the only place you and your brother could watch TV was at your Turkish neighbours house. Granted, all they ever played was soap dramas, but hey- your family was poor and you had to make do.

The old lady's eyes widened at your state and she rushed inside to get water. By the time she came out with her husband, you had passed out.

-

When you came to, you were lying in bed while the couple fretted over you. It turned out that the old man used to be a physician, so he popped your broken arm back in place and immobilised it expertly so that it allows for optimal healing of the bone. The old lady made you some food and thats when they asked what happened.

"I fell from a tree." You took a bite of the warm meal. "I was hiding there from some slave owners. I lost my parents a few days ago and when they found out that I was alone... they wanted to take me and sell me to the palace." Lying isnt that hard for you when you have so many true events to back you up.

The old couple pitied you and offered you their home. "You could stay here for as long as you'd like. We dont mind. In fact, we'd enjoy the company." You smiled gratefully. As days passed, you began helping them around the house with chores. They were lonely and they enjoyed having you around. You found out that they used to have a daughter but she was one day taken by the Janissaries (members of the elite infantry units that formed the Ottoman Sultan's household troops) to make her part of the harem and they never got to see her again.

It had been a month since you'd been living here. Your machine hadnt worked again and you didnt have the tools at hand to start working on it. You did accompany the old man to the town when he'd go get groceries, but you didnt risk finding a scholar or craftman to help you. No, the moment your eyes landed on the Topkapi palace at the other side of town, you had turned on your heel and already started making your way back to the cottage. As tempting as it was to see just how the sultans were, you were not going to try your luck by being trapped in that castle that had weird politics. Everyone was everyone's enemy- the heirs, the wives, the concubines, the eunuchs- everyone.

You and the old man had just returned from the town and you were trying to calm him down. Apparently, he got into a heated argument with the shopkeeper who was quite influential and lent people money, but he asked for high interest rates on return.

"I'll help you. Maybe I can find some work-" you offered but the old man absolutely refused. He didnt want you to leaving the cottage, especially not alone to go work with these scummy people he did not trust.

You smiled sadly. Perhaps you reminded him of his daughter.

"He's always been like this, but when Ayla was taken, he started loathing the sultan. How can you just break a family like that?" The old lady said as she stirred the pot. You hummed as you set the table, when the old man suddenly burst through the door, looking alarmed.

"Dear? Whats wrong?" The old lady walked up to him. He was looking at you.

"Janissaries- they're here." He said with dread. "The merchant- he must've sent them here! Quick, hide Y/n!" The old lady nodded in agreement as they began pushing you. The old man lifted up a wooden panel from the floor, revealing a small compartment.

"Hide in there and dont make a sound!" They said as they covered the space back with the wooden panel. You held your breath as you peeked through the slits in between the panels.

Just a few moments later, 5 men in red uniforms and swords resting on their sides, brazenly walked in.

Janissaries.

"Where's the girl?" One of them asked as the others looked around.

"What girl?" The old man asked as he pulled his wife closer to him.

"Dont pretend you dont know. We saw you walking in the market with a girl. Where's she?"

"She left. Her parents took her back. What do you want from her?" The old man replied.

The Janissaries kept looking around, going through rooms to find you.

"You havent paid your loan back. We're just here to take her while you make arrangements for your loan."

"I told you she's gone. And I told the merchant I already paid off his loan. With interest."

"Yes, but the interest increased last week. You didnt pay that."

"What does it concern you? You work for the sultan, not the merchant!"

"The merchant is friends with me, a Janissarie. If he's bothered, then I'm bothered. And if I'm bothered, then so is the sultan. Now, hurry up and tell me where she is."

"She's gone-" the old man was cut off by a punch.

You gasped, but quickly covered your mouth as the Janissarie's head snapped in your direction. He couldnt see you, but you could see him.

The old lady was crying now as she tended to her husband on the ground. The Janissaire looked back at her.

"If you dont tell me where she is right now, you will become a widow." He threatened her.

The old lady couldnt say anything as she kept on crying, but she made the mistake of looking at the wooden panel you were hiding under. That was enough of for the armed men to figure out.

They pulled the panel away and there you were, looking up at them with fear. They didnt have to communicate as they pulled you out and threw you over his shoulder, making their way out to their horses.

The old couple begged them to not take you away, but despite your best efforts to break free, you never stood a chance.

"Let me go-" You were silenced with a hard slap. The Janissarie looked at you.

"I will only say this once. I am taking you to the palace. If you make a single sound, I will slit your throat right then and there. If you run, I will behave very badly with you. Nod if you understand."

-

Some time later, you had been dragged into the Topkapi Palace. The guards talked amongst themselves about you, as if you're deaf.

"We should just sell her to the slave traders." One said.

"Or we could give her to the merchant and he can pay us more than the slave traders." Another said.

"We'll see who will pay the higher price for her. After she spends the night with me." Your eyes almost popped out of your socket.

The creep laughed as he yanked you close by the wrist. "Maybe I'll keep you permanently, tied to my bed-"

Allah, now would be a great time for the time machine to work. I dont care if I disappear before their eyes, I cant stay here-

"Well well well, what do we have here?" The Janissaries all straightened up at the new voice. "Bothering another woman of the harem? After you were almost beheaded the last time you stared at one with your pig ugly eyes?"

"Baris Agha, she is not part of the harem-"

"She became property of the sultan the moment you brought her in the palace." The man snapped at them as he stepped in front of you. Judging from his clothes and his effeminate mannerisms, you figured he was a eunuch. "Lets take a look, hm?" He gripped your chin roughly and tilted your face from side to side, a grimace appearing on his face.

"Not pretty enough to be a concubine. Tch. Maid it is."

Bitch.

"Baris Agha, you cant just take her from us-"

"Need I remind you of the woman from the sultan's war winnings you lot lost because you were drunk? I see, I should go and remind sultan of that." At that, the Janissaries scowled but kept quiet.

"Now stop standing there like buffoons. Go to your posts. And you-" Baris Agha gave you a pointed look. "You dont look from around here, but I'm going to assume that since you havent screamed or tried to run off, you understand what I'm saying, hm?" You gave a nod. Baris Agha rolled his eyes before turning on his heel, beckoning you to follow him with his index finger. "Hurry along. We have to train you for the feast tonight. A few servants died of smallpox, so we're a little short staffed."

You were lead to a hamam (a common bath area). Baris Agha was talking to the old lady standing outside. "She is the new maid. Have her prepared for tonight, hm?" He told the lady who ushered you in.

Baris Agha waited outside the hamam as he heard you shriek and yell, but he was unfazed. Everytime a new girl is brought here, she has to go through the same thing. A hot ,steaming bath, an invasive medical check up, a little degradation, nothing out of the norm. It is necessary to do this because if you are to serve the royal family, it wont bode well for you to be carrying any diseases or... any pride.

-

"You're lucky I'm short on servants or else I would've thrown you into the sea because I would never wish anyone to see the gait of a cow." He scolded you during your "maid training".

You bit your lip to stop the curses from slipping. You cant risk pissing off anyone here until you can find a way out, or your machine works. You've read details about the life in Ottoman empire, and sure majority of them were muslims, but they still had egos as large as Mount Everest.

"Baris Agha! Baris Agha!' A servant came running upto him. "A fight broke out in the harem! The concubines- ah! Its a mess!" He flailed his hands around in exasperation.

Baris's eyes widened before scowling. "I'll kill them all today! I swear! These women are more trouble than they're worth for!" He grumbled before looking at you.

"Keep moping, I'll come back. Dont do anything stupid or I will make you dig your grave!" He threatened before leaving with the servant.

As soon as he was out of sight, you considered running. But you dont know your way around this maze of a palace, and you dont wish to run into Baris Agha when you're trying to find your way out of these hallways. You need to be careful and find a way out. So, you slowly made your way towards the other end of the corridor while mopping (as an excuse when Baris returns and asks where'd you go) and peeked around the corners. When you found no one, you slowly walked down one end of the hall where you saw a door at the end while the right side of the hall overlooked the palace grounds and the other side of the hall had no doors but had these wooden windows that were shut so you couldnt see through them. You reached the door and opened it slowly, expecting another hallway, but instead you were in a room. Not exactly a bedroom, since you didnt spot a bed, but perhaps a sitting room? Or maybe a study room, judging from the desk in the corner. In the center of the room, there was a huge pile covered by a purple silk cloth. This couldnt possibly be a storage room, right? You walked upto the pile and pulled the cloth off it, revealing an amalgam of... fine things. There were fancy vases, some antiques, swords and a few paintings.

The paintings were stacked one upon the other, and you took a look at the first one- it was Arabic calligraphy. The background was beige with the calligraphy in beautiful black ink. And you recognised the words written. Its Ayat ul Kursi, from Surah Baqrah in Quran. The words were written so elegantly, however as you read the verse, you spotted an error. It was a minor one, but there was a dot missing from one of the letters and now it would be misspelled and the words wont make sense.

You could just walk away. You should walk away. Find a way out. This is not your mess. And this should not bother you.

"If you see something wrong, then you should do everything in your abilities to correct it. Don't be selfish, Y/n." Your brother's voice rung in your ears.

With a sigh, you walked towards the desk and picked up the the quill pen dipped in ink.

I'm only doing this because this painting may one day be passed onto the future generations. Cant have them making the same mistakes. You walked back to the painting. This is the word of Allah. I cant just ignore the mistake.

You placed the 3 foot canvas on the desk and carefully placed the dot to correct the mistake. You held your breath the entire time to prevent your hand from shaking. When you were done, you breathed and backed away.

"What are you doing?" You froze. This- this is not Baris Agha's voice. No, it- it held too much authority.

"I asked you- what are you doing?!" The voice boomed.

"I- I-"

"Turn around." You slowly did and you looked at the man in dark robes in front of you. He was neither a servant, nor a Janissaries. You looked at the fury in his grey eyes, and then your eyes travelled upto his head.

You dropped into a bow, head low.

"I- I apologise, sultan!" Of fucking course! Why wouldnt a sultan- THE SULTAN SULEIMAN, be the one to catch you in the act.

This is it. This is the day I die. He will have my head cut off-

"I asked you, what are you doing?" He asked again. "Who are you?"

"I- I was... I was fixing an error, your majesty." You gulped, head still down. "I am- I am a new servant, sultan. I- I did not know this was your room- I was- I got lost-"

"What mistake?" He cut you off. "Rise. And show me the mistake."

You slowly rose up, though you kept your eyes casted down. You turned back to the painting as he walked up next to you, and you raised your shaking hand to point the area where the ink was still wet.

"The... the dot was missing from this letter. It was spelling mistake. I... I couldnt just leave it... in good conscience." You explained in a small voice.

There was complete silence for the next few minutes. Is this the part where you should start begging him to spare your life? Or should you keep your mouth shut and hope he gives you a less painful punishment?

"Bring the next painting." He commanded without taking his eyes off the current one. You picked up the next canvas and it also had Arabic calligraphy. With his permission, you placed it on the desk as well.

"Well?" He looked at you and you stared back at his grey eyes in confusion. "Check for errors."

You looked back at the painting, another Quranic verse from Surah Rahman. And you spotted the error right away. Again a small mistake, but still if the diacritical marks are not present, then the pronunciation will be wrong.

"Here. And here as well." You pointed out with your finger. He nodded at you to fix it. This time it was much harder for you to stop your hand from shaking, but fortunately, you did.

"Now recite it." You looked at him in surprise. Recite it? You cant stop your hand from shaking with him looking at you and he expects you to recite it out loud in front of him?!

What kind of test is this? And if I mess up, will he have me killed? Oh God, he's going to kill me.

Closing your eyes to stop the tears from spilling, you began to recite Surah Rahman.

Just pretend he's not here, pretend your brother is in front of you and you're reciting Quran to him like you did as kids. Its normal, its just you and Qasim. You and your brother.

You opened your eyes when you were finished. Suleiman was looking at you... shocked.

"That was... my goodness. That was mesmerising." The sultan praised you once he overcame his shock. "And you recited it all from memory. Are you a hafidha?" (someone who has memorised the Quran)

You nodded. The sultan looked even more surprise. He's never heard of women memorising the Quran in his lifetime, and you? You look so young, just in your 20s. Did you really learn the Quran with such perfect recitation?

"How? Who was your teacher?"

"My brother." Which was true. Qasim, your older brother memorised the Quran when he was very young. Your parents sent him to the local mosque to learn and since he was blessed with eidetic memory, things werent hard for him.

You, on the other hand, were not blessed with photographic memory. You werent gifted like Qasim, and since he's always been the shining star, the all rounder, he was your competitor by nature. So while your parents didnt send you to the local mosque to memorise Quran because you're "too young", you made Qasim teach it to you.

He was more than happy to. Qasim, just like his name, was always the "generous one". The one who shares. He's the older brother, the provider. You're the younger sister, the competitive brat. Together, you two made a great duo. Qasim's recitation was far better than yours. His voice brought comfort to the soul.

Once you were able to memorise Quran, you and Qasim would often participate in those Islamic trivia and competitions which would often have some cash prize at the end. And since money was tight at home, you'd both participate and win many such prizes.

"And where's your brother?" "Dead. My family is dead." Well its not like he can go and confirm your story. "I was brought here by the Janisarries. They planned to sell me to slave traders. Then Baris Agha came and made me a servant, saying I belong to the sultan now. He gave me a mop and I was cleaning and then I found my way here..." You explained your situation further, hoping he'd take pity and let you go.

"What's your name?" The sultan asked very calmly.

"... Y/n."

"Y/n." He tested the name. "How would you like a job?"

"I- I'm not a good servant, ask Baris Agha. He'll testify-"

"Not as a maid. As a... teacher."

"Teacher?"

"Mhm. Quran teacher. Teach my daughter Mihirmah how to recite, if not memorise it as well as you, hm?"

"I-" you paused. You need to word this out carefully. "I'm honoured that you considered me for this position, your majesty, but surely, there might be someone else more suitable for this job."

He shook his head. "They're all men. I think if my daughter could have you as a role model, she might be inspired to learn."

"I... I have to go home-"

"Home? To who? You have no family." Of course, your lie backfires.

Seeing your hesitance, he sighs. "Look, you're not a slave here, Y/n. No Muslim in my empire is, so I wont force you to stay here but I think it would be safer for you. A young girl in her prime, living alone in this harsh world- you know just as well of the dangers. Today my Janissaries brought you here, and I will deal with them. But tomorrow, someone else might take advantage of the fact that you have no one to rely on."

You remained silent. He was... right. But-

"If you were to stay here and be Mihirmah's teacher, then I give you my word- no harm shall befall you. You will be under my protection."

Your time machine hasnt shown any signs of working yet, and you dont think you can stay hidden in this empire and avoid people for long, so-

"I accept."

Suleiman smiled. "Good. I think the ink is dry now. Place them back with the pile." You picked up the canvases and brought them back to his collection. As you were placing them down, you noticed the canvas on the bottom, the one you never picked up.

Your face paled.

-

"Sultana, please focus-" you were trying to get the young princess's attention, which you now realise was a feat in itself and exactly why Sultan Suleiman asked you to teach her.

"No." Mihirmah said. You took a deep breath. She has no interest in reading the Quran, how are you supposed to make her learn a few verses?

She was the Sultan's only daughter, so she was spoiled to the core. Just 19 years old, with high cheek bones, blemish free skin, her ash brown hair that shone, she was the epitome of beauty and the apple of her father's eye. You'd just love to yank her by the hair or smack her with a ruler to make her focus but you also would like to get out of here alive.

"You shouldn't use violence when it comes to Islam. It'll only drive the believers away." You heard Qasim's voice in the back of your head. "I never had to discipline you with hand to make you memorise. If I can teach you, then so can you." He had a warm smile on his face.

But I'm not you, Qasim. I dont have the patience of a saint.

"Alright, sultana." You closed the Quran with a sigh and clasped your hands. "What do you want to do?"

Mihirmah grinned, feeling victorious over you giving up so quickly. "I want you to tell my father that I gave my best in trying to learn this but you dont have the time or skill to teach me. Tell him that you think it might be best for me to take break from learning Quran so that I can regain my focus." She said as she crossed her arms over chest.

"No."

Her smile faltered. "No?"

"No." You confirmed, staring at her dead serious. "I do have the time and skill to teach you the Quran. Why should I lie about myself for your incompetency?"

Her eyes widened before narrowing. "Who do you think you're talking to?"

"Who do you think you're talking to?" You asked, collecting your things. "I am not your slave or servant to order around. Your father, the sultan, hired me for a job. I'm the teacher, you're the student and at this moment, I have authority over you."

You stood up and looked down at her with no expression. "I was told the young princess was fearless and as strong as her brothers. I now see they were wrong. If you dont wish to learn, then have the guts to tell your father."

As you turned around to leave, you were immediately thrown against the wall, making you bang your head against it. Enough. You're done playing nice.

Sorry Qasim, but some people need violence-

You were turned around and slammed against the wall. You were about to yell at her when you felt something sharp press against your throat.

Mihirmah's eyes were full of fury. "You do not get to talk to me that way-!" "Is that an Omani khanjar?" You looked at her silver dagger.

Mihirmah's rage was replaced by surprise. "You... you know about it?"

You scoffed, insulted. "I'd be a fool not to notice it."

She titled her head at you, an amusing glint in her eyes.

-

"Oh my- you even have the pugio! How did you get it?" You were in complete awe at Mihirmah's large collection of daggers and swords.

Mihirmah beamed. "My brother got it for me on his recent conquest. He got so much stuff in the war prize for dad, but they let me pick first. Mustafa had brought dad some antiques, gems, paintings-" your heart sank at her words.

So that painting... it was from the spoils of war?

The painting that you saw earlier when you were putting back the canvases- it was a portrait. Of you. The same portrait that Baldwin had commissioned for you. The painting that survived over 400 years, except for the lower part of your face that was smudged and faded.

Suleiman looked over your shoulder as you stared at the portrait. "Mustafa found this in a church during the war. The locals claimed that the portrait belonged to some king who lost the love of his life. Hm. Seems like he missed her too much." He explained, tracing his fingers over the smudged area of the painting, and you wondered what Baldwin had done to make the area so faded.

You were glad that you had drawn your chaddar over your head and kept your face down or else you're almost certain the sultan would've recognised the resemblance between you and the portrait. After you'd left him, you immediately decided to wear a niqaab and cover your face to prevent anyone from recognising you as the muse from the painting.

"Y/n." You were snapped out of your thoughts. Mihirmah raised a brow at you. "So... how do you know about the daggers? You dont look like... well, you know."

Should you even be surprised at how condescending she is? Mihirmah may be the sultan's only daughter, but you were also the only daughter AND the youngest child of your family.

You can be just as bitchy.

"What? Just because I'm not a princess, I cant know about daggers?" You scoffed, looking back at her collection on the table.

Mihirmah's lips quirked. "Well, how do you know then?"

My cousin took me to the forensic musuem at his medical college and I was so mesmerised by all the murder weapons there, including the daggers, that I spent an embarrassing amount of time researching about each type of blade which was interesting for me because I am a historian.

"My dad was a blacksmith." He was not. Your father was a pharmacist. "I used to watch him make different types of blades and swords. Travellers would often stop by and let him sharpen their blades, and thats how I know about different kinds of blades."

She nodded, satisfied with your explanation. "You know your blades... but do you know how to fight with them?"

"No, sultana. I am just a lowly peasant who does not have to face the troubles of warding off potential suitors and princes like you." Your voice dripped with sarcasm.

When she didnt reply, you looked up at her and saw the evil glint in her eyes.

"What?"

Her smile widened. "I have a proposal that would benefit the both of us."

You stared at her in confusion for a few moments before understanding what she meant.

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"No-"

-

You were flipped onto the carpeted ground with Mihirma pinning your arms with her knees, pressing the dagger against your neck.

"Anddddd you're dead." She smiled victoriously above you before getting off you and helping you up. You coughed to catch your breath and scowled at her. "I should tell the sultan about how you beat up your teacher."

Mihirmah chuckled. "I am not beating you up. I am teaching you how to fight, and dad would approve that I teach a young women how to defend herself." "But I dont want to learn how to fight." "And I dont want to learn Quran. But if I have to do that, then you can at least do this so that you know just how difficult it is for me to learn the verses."

You adjusted your veil and glared at her. "Cant you find someone else to be your sparring buddy?"

"No. I like you. You dont seem to be too afraid of me and you stand your ground." She admitted before looking at you fussing over your niqaab. "You know you can take that off around me? People dont burst into my room without knocking, so feel free to take that off."

You contemplate for a moment. It is a little hot in here, and you're sweating like a pig after that knock down.

You remove your veil, but keep the scarf over your head and take a seat. You felt her eyes on you, but you didnt look at her as you opened the Quran.

"What are you staring at?"

Mihirmah sat down beside you as you finally looked at the gleam in her eyes. "What?" You asked again.

"Nothing. I just thought you'd be... prettier."

You couldn't help the sound of disbelief that left from your lips.

This cun-

"Well, I'm so sorry sultana that you had to witness the ugliness of my face with your precious eyes that are only worthy of seeing pretty things. My sultana, just say the word and I'd sew pearls into my skin for your pleasure, or I could always just-" you pick up your veil to cover your face again, but Mihirmah's hand caught your wrist and she was giggling.

"You're easy to tick off." She chuckled. "I was only kidding. You look... alright."

You feigned a smile. "Well, how will I ever repay that priceless compliment?" You rolled your eyes as she laughed again.

"Now that we're done with your entertainment, lets start our lesson for today."

-

Its been a week since you arrived in Topkapi palace. You had been given a room in the harem with the concubines because- well they didnt have quarters for religion teachers, so here you were.

The room was small but adequate for you. Nothing fancy but you're grateful for that. Dont want these concubines seeing you as a threat or something.

You groaned as the servant kneaded your shoulders. You were currently getting a massage from a girl you had befriended. Your muscles were sore from the all the times Mihirmah had flipped you over or slammed you against the wall. You were sure you were gonna have numerous bruises by the time she memorised one surah.

Your deep tissue massage was interrupted by Baris Agha bursting through your door. He shot you a glare before pushing the girl away from you.

"If your majesty is done with her rub down, would you care to grace us with your mighty presence?" He mocked. You opened your eyes and sighed.

"Hello to you too, Baris Agha." You sat up. "What do you want?"

"The sultana has demanded your presence."

"I already gave the sultana her lesson today." You mumbled before going to lie back down but Baris Agha grabbed your shoulder painfully to haul you up.

"That was Mihirmah sultana. Your presence is required by her mother, Hurrem sultana!" He gritted out.

Hurrem sultana? "Why?" You asked, fixing your niqaab over your face.

"Why? Why? Who do you think you're to be asking questions? Make haste!" He yelled at you before pushing you out of the room.

You followed behind him as he told you how to courtesy in front of her and not to do this or that, but you were focused on why you'd been called by the sultana? And that too, at dinner time? Wouldnt she be busy with her family?

Finally, you reached her chambers. Baris Agha entered first and you followed closely behind him, falling into a deep courtesy right after him.

"My Sultana, this is Hatun (lady) Y/n, Mihirmah's sultana's teacher." Baris Agha introduced you.

"Rise." You heard her say and you dared to peek at her and your breath was caught.

If Mihirmah was the epitome of beauty, then Hurrem sultana was something entirely out of this world. Red hair that sat in a intricate bun atop with a crown, milky white skin that had no marks, and those radiant green eyes that shone just as bright as the iconic emerald ring on her finger.

If you didnt know the dates, you wouldnt have guessed her to be a day over 40. But she was well in her 50s, and Allah... were you envious of Turkish beauty.

Truly, this was not a place for an insecure person to be around. You probably did stick out like a sore thumb among the bewitching beauties.

Baris Agha elbowed you to make you avert your gaze, and thats when you spotted Mihirmah sitting beside her looking sheepish.

"So, you've been the one who Mihirmah has been spending so much time with?" She looked at you pointedly.

So much time?

You looked at Mihirmah who was avoiding your gaze. You looked back at the sultana. "Well? Tell me how much my daughter has learned?"

How much? She hasnt been able to memorise a single surah.

You cleared your throat and spoke carefully. "Sultana, its a gradual process-"

"Surely, she must've memorised something? After all, thats why she's been refusing to spend time embroidering or looking at her proposals."

"Mom-" Mihirmah tried but was silenced by a look from her mother.

Hurrem looked back at you. "So, Hatun Y/n, do you have something to say? Or has my daughter been lying to me about spending time with you?"

You looked at Mihirmah who was looking at you with pleading eyes and you connected the dots. Mihirmah has lied to her mother about spending her time with you, and now wants you to lie for her as well.

If you do, Mihirmah might be safe but you risk getting caught. If you dont lie, Mihirmah gets in trouble, but so will you. And not just at Mihirmah's hands, because she will hurt you for snitching, but you suspect that she will twist more lies and lead you into more trouble with both her mother and father.

What to do?

"Mihirmah sultana is... a good student. The best one I've had so far." Well, you werent lying. She was your first student so technically she had no competition. "Everyone has a different pace of learning, my sultana. But its not about how fast you learn, its how much you learn. I'd prefer to take years to learn the surahs over not understanding the meaning behind them, the lessons hidden in them."

Yes, this is a safe answer. "Mihirmah sultana has shown great interest in reading the Quran. She listens very attentively to the translations." After bribing her with duels.

"I have no doubt that she will one day be a good Quran student. As long as she never stops reading it, maintains her connection with the Holy Book and Allah. The process of learning never ends."

Hurrem's calculated eyes read you. She gave a single nod. "Very well, Hatun Y/n. If you say so." Ah finally. Disaster avoided, and now Mihirmah owes me for lying-

"Mihirmah, you will recite the surah Hatun Y/n taught you tomorrow at dinner. Your father and I will be very pleased with your progress." Hurrem stated, making both your and Mihirmah's eyes widen because her mother knows her daughter well. She knows Mihirmah is not prepared and challenged her like this so that she can get rid of you as well, allowing the queen to focus on finding a suitable proposal for her daughter.

"Mother-"

"Mihirmah, go and sleep now. I dont think you need to prepare anymore for tomorrow, as you have told me just how great of teacher Hatun Y/n is." Hurrem smiled cunningly. Of course, she'd lay traps for her own daughter if it meant she could prove a point.

You and Mihirmah left the sultana's chambers together before walking to the princess's chambers.

"Thank you, Y/n for saving me!" Mihirmah said as soon as you two entered her room. She turned around to look at you, only to find you out on her balcony.

"Y/n? What are you doing there?" She walked up behind you.

You looked over your shoulder. "Hm? Oh, I'm just thinking if I should jump to my death from here or ask Baris Agha to get me poison. What do you suggest?"

"Y/n!" She pulled you away from the balcony. "What's wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with me? Whats wrong with you?!" You yanked your arm out of her grip. "Why did you lie to Hurrem sultana that you've been spending day and night studying with me when you damn well know that you have the attention span of a fish?!"

Mihirmah pouted. "Well, I had to come up with an excuse as to why I didnt want to do needle work or look at suitors... how was I supposed to know she'd bring you in for questioning?"

Narrowing your eyes at her, you gritted out. "You should've just told her that you'd rather spend the time beating up servants and throwing knives at pillows for target practise!"

She crossed her arms and huffed. "What, are you mad at me?"

You chuckled humourlessly. "Oh no. No no- how dare I? Why would I be mad at you for being the reason your parents will send me to the gallows? Or would they rather chop off my head?"

She shook her head. "No, I wont.... I wont let them do that." Mihirmah sighed. "I'll tell them the truth tomorrow, come clean."

"Oh great. So then you'll be safe from trouble but I'll still be dead because I LIED to the sultana! Thanks a lot!" You exclaimed.

"Well, then what do you suggest we do?!" Mihirmah was getting short tempered now.

You dragged your hands over your cheeks before heaving a sigh. "The only thing we can do. Make you memorise a surah." You held up a hand before Mihirmah could speak. "I'm not kidding. And... I have a plan. Just... you'll need to stay awake the entire night."

-

"Mihirmah- Mihirmah, wake up." You nudge the sleeping princess, awake. Its been 7 hours into your all nighter and Mihirmah's been asleep for 2 of them. You heard her groan from her position, head resting on the table.

"Mihirmah!" You called her harshly, shaking her shoulder. She smacked your hand away and continued to rest.

Thats it, I'm going to yank your hair-

The door opened making you turn. A young man was standing there, his eyes landing on Mihirmah and then at you.

"Mihirmah?" He called her name gently, but the girl who you'd been expecting to be dead asleep suddenly jumped up at his voice.

"Mehmed?!" Her eyes sparkled before getting up and jumping into his arms, just as you turned your head away and picked up your veil to wear.

Sehzade (prince) Mehmed, second son of Sultan Suleiman, first son of Hurrem. The 24 year old prince hugged his sister and spun her around, the two siblings laughing. Though you already know of his fate- the prince will die young. He will not inherit the throne.

"When did you come back from Manisa?!" Mihirmah asked him.

He pecked her forehead. "Just now. I made my way straight here and I was expecting you to be asleep, but.... what exactly is it that you're doing?" Mehmed asked, and Mihirmah followed his gaze to you.

"Ah. This is Y/n, she's my Quran teacher. I have to memorise a surah and recite it at dinner." She explained.

He raised a brow. "Since when did you have such an interest? Let me guess- father?" She scrunched her nose and nodded. "Forget about that, tell me about your adventures! Come on-" You cleared your throat loudly, making both siblings look at you.

"What?" Mihirmah asked.

"Sultana, we still have to prepare for tonight." You said as gently as you could without popping a vessel in your head.

Mihirmah waved you off. "No need! I've already memorised the surah! I'm all prepared-"

"Sultana." You cut her off. "Memorising is one thing... reciting it properly is another. Your parents will be expecting perfection which-with all due respect, you are nowhere near it."

There was deafening silence in the room as you and Mihirmah stared each other down, neither woman backing away.

"Y/n, I said I'm done for tonight. That means, I. Am. Done." Mihirmah emphasised.

"I'm the teacher and I took responsibility over this matter in front of the Sultan and Sultana. I decide when you. Are. Done." You replied back in the same tone, hands folded in front of you.

I am not letting a spoiled brat ruin my life.

Mehmed looked at the two of you, confusion clouding his mind. Mihirmah doesnt let anyone talk to her this way and get away with it. Usually by now, you wouldve been thrown into the dungeons for torture. He knows his sister and her crazy tendencies, so he doesnt understand why she's putting up with this.

There is something deeper going on here.

"Both of you, stand down." You both broke off the intense stare off and looked at Mehmed. Clasping Mihirmah's hand, he pulled her to the ottomans and sat down beside her, gesturing you to sit down on the floor pillow.

"Now, tell me what is going on?"

After explaining the mess Mihirmah had dragged you two in, Mehmed hummed.

"Mihirmah." He looked at his sister. "It doesnt matter if Y/n told the truth or the lie to mom, she'd be in trouble either way. But there is only one way you wont be in trouble, and that is to pass this test. Prove mom wrong. You can do it- hey, look at me." He cupped Mihirmah's cheeks. "I know you can do it. And to show you my support, I will stay by your side the entire time. Now, lets practice, hm?"

-

You and Mehmed left Mihirmah's room at 8 in the morning, letting her to catch some shut eye.

You mutely yawned under your niqaab, though your back wasnt as silent when you cracked it. You heard Mehmed chuckle behind you, and you quickly composed yourself.

"My sister wore you out, huh?" He had a tired smile on his lips, eyes drooping but still a glint of amusement.

"Of course not, sehzade." You noticed the small cut on the outer end of his left brow. He had ash brown hair, similar to Mihirmah's. If you didnt know better, you'd think the two were twins with how much they resembled. Thick lips, strong nose, high cheek bones.

"You shouldn't lie to a prince, you know?" He rubbed his eyes. "Mihirmah... she is a little-" Annoying? Bitchy? Selfish? "-headstrong, but she's always been this way. Dont take it to heart. She is a good person, you just need to be patient with her."

You stayed quiet as he spoke. What could you really say? Ah no, your sister is actually just a spoiled brat and needs a kicking down?

"Mihirmah likes you, Y/n. It is a lot to ask but... I would appreciate it if you would continue to have her back."

"As you wish, sehzade."

Mehmet gave you one last smile before leaving. "Get some sleep, Y/n."

You turned around and started making your way back towards the harem to your chambers, your mind occupied by the thoughts of the painting Baldwin had made.

I need to destroy it. You decided. If it has survived 400 years, it might survive another 400, and I dont want to take the risk of it appearing in a museum one day.

You're walking down the hall, trying to remember which room it was you had found the paintings in when suddenly you're yanked to a corner.

"hey-!"You're silenced by a hand covering your mouth. A woman was holding you.

"Shh. Its fine. I just want to talk." She pulled her hand away, making you take a huge gulp of air. "What? You cant say hello like a normal person?" You spat at her. She narrowed her eyes at you. "Watch your tone. I'm Gul, the sultana's lady-in-waiting." Or just personal servant. You thought. Wait, sultana?

"Hurrem sultana-" "No, Mahidevran sultana, the first wife of Sultan Suleiman and the one you should always obey and respect. Now come along, she wishes to talk to you." She began pulling you down the corridor.

"Talk to me about what?" She didnt answer you.

Mahidevran sultana, the first wife of the sultan who eventually fells out of his favour when Hurrem arrives. She was able to give birth to one son- sehzade Mustafa, the eldest heir of the sultan, who will also not inherit the throne and will be executed on the orders of his father.

You can only guess how protective Mahidevran would be of both her son and the throne, seeing as she only has one child compared to Hurrem sultana's five, four of which are male heirs. And she has every reason to be threatened too because Hurrem has done what has never been done before.

Hurrem sultana was a non muslim woman captured from Crimea, sold as a slave in Constantinople, became a concubine in the harem and slowly rose to the ranks to be Suleiman's favourite, and later, become his legal wife. She bore majority of his sons, and broke the traditional rule of. "one imperial concubine - one son", was beaten up by Mahidevran which angered Suleiman, earned the title of Haseki Sultana (which means "favourite") and it shocked everyone because never before was a slave elevated to the level of becoming the legal wife of the sultan.

Hurrem sultana was force to be reckoned with. And as history shows, Hurrem would be the victorious one.

Finally reaching the sultana's chambers, you were pushed in by Gul. You immeadiately fell into a courtesy, not wanting to anger the sultana.

"So... who exactly are you?" You looked up, brows knitting in confusion at her question. Mahidevran was sitting on her ottoman, her face expressionless as she stared you down. She was beautiful, her features sharp and slim, collar bones prominent along with her long neck, she looked like a supermodel. But... Hurrem was prettier.

"I- I'm Y/n." You answered her, but she didnt look satisfied. "What is your relation with Hurrem? Are you sleeping with her son, Mehmed?"

"I- I beg your pardon?" You stammered. She stood up and strode to you, making you back up.

"Do not lie to me, girl. My servants saw you entering Hurrem's chambers yesterday, and leaving with Mehmed today."

"Its not what it looks like, sultana." You shook your head. "I am not a concubine and I am not sleeping with anyone! Sultan Suleiman hired me to teach Mihirmah sultana Quran."

"That doesnt explain why you were with Hurrem or Mehmed."

"Hurrem sultana wanted to know how far her daughter has progressed in her lessons and asked Mihirmah to recite a surah at dinner to prove that she's been studying. Sehzade Mehmed and I were with Mihirmah sultana all night helping her prepare for tonight." You explained the situation and Mahidevran stared at you with no expression. For a moment, you thought she didnt believe you but then her lips quirked up.

"Dinner, you say?" You gave a hesitant nod. "Very well, off you go."

As soon as you were out of the room, you leaned against the wall and placed a hand over your chest, feeling your rapidly beating heart. Mahidevran may not be as pretty as Hurrem, but she was definitely scarier. You really did think she was going to torture you.

Weakly, you began walking again. You want to go back to your room and sleep off the headache that was forming, but you still have the stupid portrait to destroy.

Where the hell was that stupid room?

After an hour or so of roaming around and avoiding Baris Agha because you dont have it in you to put up with insults, you finally found the room. You softly knocked on the door first, checking if the sultan or someone else was in the room. When no one answered, you slowly opened the door and looked around. No one was there.

You walked inside and spotted the pile still there, and when you removed the silk off it, everything was still there- untouched, including your portrait.

"What are you doing?"

Second time. You've been caught in here for the second time.

Baldwin has to have cast a curse on you. There is no other explanation for such badluck.

You turned around, praying it was Baris Agha or anyone else, just not the sultan.

As soon as you spotted the royal turban, you could hear Baldwin laughing in the back of your head.

You bowed. "Sehazade- I-"

He looked older than Mehmed, so your best guess was that this was Mustafa.

"I asked, what you were doing with my war loot?" So, it is Mustafa. Mihirmah did say he went on a conquest recently.

"I was-" you cleared your throat. "I was merely admiring the calligraphy."

He tilted his head to look behind you. "There's no calligraphy on the portrait."

"I was admiring... the portrait."

"Were you planning on stealing it?"

"What? No." You peered at him through your niqaab. "It would not be the brightest idea to steal a large canvas and walk through the palace that is littered with guards."

He hummed. "You could go out the window."

"And ruin the painting or risk breaking my legs?"

"Huh. So what do you think would be the best way to steal this painting?" What kind of trick question is this?

"Not that I am stealing it, but if I were to- I'd most likely remove it from the canvas and roll it up, tuck it under my dress or hide it somewhere else and then leave with it. Or maybe pass it to another person, to make myself less suspicious."

"For someone who claims they're not stealing it, that does sound like you put a lot of thought in it." Mustafa admitted.

You frowned. "I was just pointing out the obvious. As I said, I am not a thief!"

"Then who are you?"

"I'm Y/n, Mihirmah sultana's Quran teacher-" He chuckled. "Sure, that's believable."

"Its true."

"You expect me to believe Mihirmah, my little sister who would much rather spend her days skinning someone, is learning Quran?" He smiled, making dimples appear on his cheeks.

"Its not by choice. Sultan Suleiman hired me." He stopped smiling.

"The Sultan... hired you?" Mustafa asked. What- why would his father hire you? You're just a young girl, almost the same age as Mihirmah.

"You can ask him if you dont believe me." You were tired of being insulted. What, does he think you're not smart enough to teach someone? Or just plain ole ugly?

"I-"

"Y/n! Ugh! There you are!" Baris Agha voice cut through, and as soon as he spotted Mustafa, he bowed, but you saw the momentary glance of confusion of why you were with him.

"Sehzade." Baris greeted him. Mustafa acknowledged him with a single nod. "Please excuse me, but I must take Hatun Y/n. Mihirmah sultana has demanded her presence."

Mustafa nodded again, letting Baris Agha drag you out by the arm. He looked at you trying to free your arm from his painful grip while Baris chewed your ear out. Mustafa shook his head before turning around to look at the portrait you were "admiring".

It is... something.

-

By dinner time, your head was pounding to the point you thought someone was hammering a nail in your head. Instead of spending the rest of the day catching some sleep, Mihirmah had demanded you help her dress "modestly" for her Quran recitation tonight. She wanted a look that really captured her "angelic and spirutal" personality.

You were sure your eyes were blood shot, from the lack of sleep. You didnt eat anything since yesterday, because you were almost constantly with royalty and God forbid you ate with them. No, they're "superior" and you dont deserve to eat or take care of yourself unless they allow you to.

"How do I look?" Mihirmah asked you. You were standing outside the royal dining room, where she would first go and have dinner with her family before showing what she's learnt so far.

"Like you just returned from Hajj pilgrimage." You rolled your eyes. She shot you a glare. "You look fine, Mihirmah. Just... stay calm and remember what I've taught you. You got this." She nodded before entering the room where her family awaited her.

You leaned against the wall and sighed, about to close your eyes to take a power nap when Baris Agha nudged you.

"Wake up! Sultana and sehzade are here." He whispered harshly, just as you spotted Mahidevran and Mustafa walking down the hall. You and Baris bowed with the guards.

"Sultana. Sehzade." Baris greeted them sweetly. "The dining hall is currently occupied. Sultan Suleiman is having dinner with his family."

"And what are we, Baris?" Mahidevran snapped, making Baris's courteous smile falter. "I am his first wife, Mustafa- his first son. We have more right to be here than Hurrem and her kids."

"Sultana-" Baris tried to persuade her but she beat him to it by walking past and knocking on the door.

"Enter!" Suleiman called from inside. The servants opened the door, allowing Mahidevran and Mustafa inside.

They bowed to Suleiman. "I hope we're not interrupting, sultan. We just heard that our dear Mihirmah would be reading Quran today and I just couldnt stop myself from coming. I just want to witness our little Mihirmah becoming so connected with her religion, perhaps even inspire me." She smiled widely, placing a hand on Mustafa's back. "I brought her elder brother to show our support. May we join you, sultan?"

Suleiman stared at them before nodding. "Of course, Mahidevran. We're all family here."

Mahidevran couldnt help the smirk that formed on her lips as she saw the pissed off look on Hurrem's face and the alarmed one Mihirmah's. While Hurrem did hope to teach a lesson to her daughter to not lie to her, she wouldnt want to do it by embarrassing her in front of Mahidevran.

The doors closed and their dinner began. You leaned against the wall again to rest your eyes but of course, Baris Agha had to mutter incoherently about the whole situation.

"Allah! Allah! What are we going to do? This might as well be the start of another war inside! Hurrem sultana and Mahidevran sultana head-to-head again-" He elbowed you hard, making you yelp. "Did you tell Mahidevran to come here?! I swear, I will yank your tongue out and strangle you with it."

"Baris Agha, at this rate, I'll be the one to strangle you if you touch me one more time." You threatened, shoving him away roughly.

"You little-" The doors opened again, a servant walked out.

"Hatun Y/n. Sultan has summoned you."

You walked inside, courtesying to the royal family.

Suleiman had this gentle look in his eyes. "Ah. This is Y/n, the teacher I hired for Mihirmah." He introduced you to his family, unbeknownst to him they'd already met you. He looked at you. "I wanted you to be here as Mihirmah recited for us."

"I'm honoured, sultan." You said softly, eyes to the ground as Mihirmah stood up and walked to the center of the room.

Suleiman gave her a nod to start.

Mihirmah took a deep breath in, closed her eyes and started reciting.

إِنَّآ أَعْطَيْنَـٰكَ ٱلْكَوْثَرَ "

فَصَلِّ لِرَبِّكَ وَٱنْحَرْ

"إِنَّ شَانِئَكَ هُوَ ٱلْأَبْتَرُ

15 seconds. Thats all it took for Mihirmah to recite the shortest surah in the Quran, with almost perfect qirat. The surah that usually took 10 minutes for children to learn, took Mihirmah all night to memorise with near-perfect pronunciation. Sure, this was not what anyone was expecting, especially not Hurrem when she challenged you and Mihirmah, but the deal was to recite a surah from Quran, by memory. It just so happened to be the shortest one, the easiest one. You won fair and square.

"MashAllah, Mihirmah. That was beautiful. I am so proud of you." Suleiman beamed, his eyes shining with pride. Mihirmah grinned, running to kiss her father's cheeks.

"Yes, Mihirmah. That was... nice." Hurrem feigned a smile, just happy that she wasnt embarrassed in front of Mahidevran.

"Thank you, mom. I guess I just had a really good teacher." Mihirmah shot you a grateful look, making everyone in the room look at you. Your face flushed, and you were grateful for the niqaab to hide your face.

"Oh- um, you're just a keen learner, sultana." You said softly.

Mahidevran lips quirked up, and Hurrem saw the evil glint in her eyes. "Oh Mihirmah, you read so wonderfully. Your voice- ah! It just moved me. Please, Mihirmah- would you be kind enough to recite for me again? I'm sure your father would love to hear you as well."

Mihirmah's brows furrowed slightly. "I- of course, sultana." She closed her eyes and was about to recite the same surah again when Mahidevran's voice stopped her.

"Oh no, Mihirmah. I was hoping to hear something else."

Mihirmah's face fell. "But this is what I've memorised-"

"That's quiet alright, sweetie. You can always read it from the Quran. This isnt a test!" She chuckled. "I'm sure your teacher has taught you the basics! Here, I even brought the Quran with me." She handed Mihirmah the Holy book.

So this is how she planned to embarrass Mihirmah. She knew the young girl was neither interested nor good at learning Quran, so now when Mihirmah would stammer upon her words, then Suleiman and Hurrem will be ashamed that their Muslim daughter, at the age of 19, cannot even recite properly. Hopefully, this might even cause the couple to fight and Mihirmah to fall from the graces of her father's eyes.

Nervously, Mihirmah slowly opened the book, turning to the first page. She cleared her throat, as it'd help.

It didnt.

Mihirmah stammered and stumbled over her words many times, to the point that the first surah that should've taken less than a minute to recite, ended up taking way longer than anyone would like to admit.

As Mihirmah finished reading, you could see the tears welling up in her eyes and redness in her cheeks. She was utterly embarrassed, she felt she had let her parents down.

"Oh Mihirmah~" Mahidevran cooed. "That was.... not good at all, darling."

"I-" Mihirmah tried to muster up an excuse but the sultana did not care.

"I mean- you were just a disaster! Stuttering and making so many mistakes, and that too with the book open!"

"Mahidevran, enough." Hurrem warned.

Mahidevran narrowed her eyes at her. "What? Oh Hurrem, I am not trying to embarrass Mihirmah! In fact, I think she's not at fault. Well, not completely. I suppose she just doesnt have a good teacher."

Everyone was now looking at you.

Is this how everything ends up becoming your fault and you're the one who gets punished?

Fuck. This.

"Excuse me?" You couldnt help the irritation seep in your voice.

Mahidevran raised a brow at you. "Am I wrong? You were supposed to be the one responsible for teaching our princess Quran. And yet, she just made a fool out of herself. You tried to fool us by making Mihirmah learn the shortest surah, but look at her now- barely able to read from the book!"

Your eyes widened. Is she for real?

"I think you're wrong, sultana." Everyone looked at you as you stated boldly. "Yes, Mihirmah sultana did stammer and made mistakes as she read but I think thats much more valuable." You sighed. "Mihirmah sultana had to make twice the effort to read the Quran than one usually would, but she will also get twice the reward from Allah for her efforts. She knew she wont read well, she knows she's just a beginner at this stage, but she didnt let it stop her. And Allah will reward her for that, He knows what was in her heart, her intentions, despite what anyone has to say about her skills."

"And as for "trying to fool" anyone here- "You looked her dead in the eye. "I find that accusation insulting to the very core. You say that I made Mihirmah sultana memorise the shortest surah in the Quran. I did. Surah Kawthar is indeed the shortest surah, but does that mean it is less important? Not worthy to be read, or be in the Holy Book altogether?"

Mahidevran was frowning as you looked at her. "Do you claim to know better than Allah as to what should or shouldn't be in His divine book? Surah Kawthar may be the shortest surah in the Quran but it is one that I find deep comfort in. As the surah translates-

Indeed, We have granted you ˹O Prophet˺ abundant goodness.

So pray and sacrifice to your Lord ˹alone˺

Only the one who hates you is truly cut off ˹from any goodness˺.

And what does this tell us? The background of these verses is that when our beloved Prophet Muhammad (PBUH) lost his son, his enemies, the non believers would make fun of him that "Islam will end now because Muhammad had no male heir to continue to grow the religion, to spread the word of Allah." But Allah wouldn't abandon his beloved prophet, even when he was depressed.

This Surah was sent down when the nonbelievers of Makkah taunted the Holy Prophet (PBUH) because he had lost all his male issues, and called him 'abtar' or insulted him for some other reason. The present Surah gives an answer to the taunts of the nonbelievers, and maintains that there is no justification for calling the Holy Prophet (PBUH) an 'abtar' only because he had no male child alive, not only because his lineal offspring will remain till the Day of Judgment, though from his daughters, but he was destined to be the spiritual father of a multitude of sons in all ages to the end of time, sons who were to be far more faithful, obedient and loving than the sons of any father, and they will outnumber the followers of all the Prophets that came before him. The Surah has also highlights the great honor and respect given to him by Allah.

I also like to think that the reason why this Surah was included in the Quran was so that Muslims in general would also be comforted by the word of Allah. That all the Muslims, even if they were not from Prophet Muhammad's direct lineage, we are his ummah and so we will also enjoy the river Kawthar.

Kawthar refers to a river in paradise, which translates "a river that contains abundant goodness" and we will enjoy the greatest honour and respect, as our Prophet Muhammad's ummah."

You took a deep breath. "So, Mahidevran sultana... do you still accuse me of fooling anyone?"

The room was dead silent. You may have indirectly insulted Mahidevran and broken so many rules, but everything you said was true. It was clear. You were smart and educated, Suleiman had no doubt about it when he first met you. And now, he was only more reassured of his decision to make you Mihirmah's teacher.

"Very well said, Y/n." Suleiman broke the silence. Standing up, he walked over to Mihirmah, holding her shoulder and pressing a kiss to her forehead, comforting his daughter.

"I am very proud of you, Mihirmah. I can see the hardwork you did." He hugged her again, pressing another kiss to her forehead as she sniffled softly. "I knew you'd do well, so I brought a gift for you."

Mihirmah watched as a servant brought a wooden box lined with velvet and gems. Opening it, she gasped softly.

It was a gold bracelet with rubies and emeralds, lined in an intricate pattern.

Hurrem smiled as Suleiman put the bracelet around his daughter's wrist, before bringing her hand to his lips and pecking it.

He was a proud father.

"And Y/n-" You stiffened. Suleiman turned towards you, his body towering over you. "You did a fine job at not only teaching Mihirmah, but also helping us understand the significance of Surah Kawther."

A servant brought box, similar to Mihirmah's. Opening it, you saw a bracelet, identical to Mihirmah's.

"This is for you." Suleiman smiled as he placed the bracelet around your trembling hand.

"I- sultan-" you tried to return it but Suleiman silenced you.

"I crafted this with my own hands. It'll be rude of you to refuse." Your eyes widened at his serious tone and you immediately bowed your head.

"T-thank you, sultan." He hummed, returning to his seat while Mihirmah hugged you, giggling.

Dinner continued on as Mihirmah and her siblings began chattering once you left, but something had disturbed both Hurrem and Mahidevran.

-

"What happened inside? Catfight?" Baris Agha, the gossiper asked as you stumbled out of the room. His eyes fell on the bracelet and he snatched your hand. "Allah! Allah! Did you steal this?! I will have you-"

"Sultan Suleiman gifted it to me." Baris dropped your hand.

"S-sultan? Sultan's gift?" He whispered to himself in disbelief, but you were already walking away. You were tired, your headache had now turned into a migraine and your energy levels had dropped. All you wanted was to curl up in bed and at this point, you dont care if you wake up or not.

But sleep is for the fortunate ones. For you, Baris Agha was written.

"Y/n! You- stop! Listen!" He ran up behind you, pulling your shoulder to make you stop. "You- Sultan Suleiman gifted you the bracelet?! Do you know what this means?"

You heaved a sigh, your vision getting blurry. "Baris, just- just shut up. I need to... sleep." You turned around and started walking, not realising just how blurry your vision was, or how you were leaning against the wall for support.

All you saw was blurry figure standing in front of you, before you lost your footing. The figure caught you, and you heard Baris yell your name before losing consciousness.

-

Hurrem was in Suleiman's chambers. She was going to spend the night here, it seemed. Suleiman had summoned her himself tonight.

Suleiman walked inside, and when he spotted his wife, he smiled. Hurrem returned the smile, walking upto him and kissing him.

"Suleiman..." She whispered against his lips. "You summoned me?"

"I did." He lead her to the bed, sitting down. "What do you think of Y/n?"

She tilted her head. Y/n? "I suppose she is a good teacher. Smart. Well educated, at least religion wise."

He let out a hum. "What else?"

"What else, Suleiman? I dont know her." Suleiman chuckled, making her even more confused. Why are you being brought up right now?

"Well, try getting to know her better." "Why?"

Suleiman shrugged. "You'll know in due time."

Hurrem couldnt put her mind at peace the rest of the night. Why was Suleiman curious about you? He couldnt possibly want you- no. No. She saw him with you. He practically looked at you the same way he looked at Mihirmah. Thats why he gave you both the same bracelets-

Oh no.

-

You woke up when you felt something cool on your forehead. Opening your eyes, a wet rag blocked your vision. You pushed the rag away, accidentally touching the hand that was holding the rag there.

A man was sitting on your bedside. He had honey-coloured eyes, short, well kept dark brown hair and tanned skin.

"You can let go of my hand, Hatun Y/n." He grinned.

Your face turned red as you dropped his hand. "I- sorry."

"No worries. You're just disoriented from earlier. Exhaustion, the physicians say." He chuckled, standing up and you noticed Baris standing in the corner now. "You will need to get used to working long hours, especially now." Baris raised his brows at you as he said that, making the man laugh again.

"I will take my leave now. Take care, Hatun Y/n. And let me know if she needs anything, Baris."

"Of course, Ibrahim pasha." He bid farewell to the vizir.

The man said before leaving. Baris immediately rushed to you, grinning from ear to ear.

"What?"

"Who would've guessed- the preacher to be the tempteress?"

"Excuse me?" You glared at him. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Baris waved you off. "Well, be flattered! I mean- you're going to be married to a sehzade soon-"

"Woah woah! What are you talking about?"

Baris stared at you. "Oh, you really dont know, do you?" You looked even more puzzled. Baris grabbed your wrist, showing you the bracelet. "This is made by sultan Suleiman. The sultan only gives handmade gifts to family and close relatives. And since I've been here since the sultan married the first sultana, I know you're not his secret love child, which means..." he waited for you to catch on, but giving up when you took too long.

"Y/n, if you're not related to him blood, then you will become related to him by becoming a part of his family. Which will be by you becoming his daughter-in-law!" He exclaimed.

Your face paled. No, no!

"Close your mouth, you'll catch flies, darling." Baris tapped your chin. "And I suggest you hide your bracelet for a while. Dont want the concubines to get jealous, hm?"

So?? Thoughts??? Who do you think will be the yanderes? What do you think will happen next???

PART 9 is here!

[akutasoda]

in the morning light

[part 2 here]

synopsis - what it's like sharing a bed with them

includes - aventurine, gallagher, sunday, robin, boothill

warnings - gn!reader, fluff, slight angst, i have no clue what im doing, might be ooc, wc - 1.2k

a/n: i have absolutely no clue what this is... im trying to write requests but i feel weirdly rusty and so i needed to do something random and well... this is it i guess?

aventurine ★↷

↪he has settled for a very long time to have bare minimum as his bed, practically nothing in some cases, and so now he over indulges himself. we've all seen the official art and the animation, he has one of the comfiest beds known.

↪anything you need, he's got it for you no questions asked or thought about. he does care quite abit about how he presents himself so he has quite the nightly routine but it's not that extensive, so if you wish to do yours alongside he wouldn't mind one bit.

↪naturally a light sleeper - the slightest sound or movement can wake him. aventurine is also quite prone to frequent nightmares which cause him to wake up in a cold sweat everytime. he doesn't wish to burden you however and so he tries to keep his movements to a minimum when your beside him.

↪he doesn't say anything but he always loves it when you wrap your arms around him and let him rest his head on your chest. it's very comforting to him. he feels safe in your arms and listening to your heartbeat brings him that reassurance that you are real and there for him.

↪unfortunately due to his work he can get very early morning calls which cause him to wake up early and begrudgingly leave you behind - he'd never wake you but places a kiss on your forehead before leaving. however if he has the day off, he becomes extremely clingly and refuses to move and further intertwines his body with yours.

gallagher ★↷

↪as a bloodhound, he doesn't normally stay the whole night as he might be called out to deal with whatever problem penacony has then. this can feed into a reluctance to join you in bed as he knows he wouldn't be able to leave if he did so.

↪he isn't one that cared about comfort or a good night sleep, so his bed was always bare minimum with one or two pillows and a blanket. although if you're one for more than he wouldn't mind buying anything you wanted to add.

↪doesn't really have a bedtime routine. most of the time he gets straight home from work and is very content to just collapse onto the bed beside you without even changing. most of his routine is spent in the morning trying to make himself look a bit more presentable for the day - he is very prone to drastic bed hair.

↪if he knows he wont be called out or has the next day off, he will happily join you in bed and becomes dead to the world. can be a very heavy sleeper if he knows he can allow himself to be.

↪gallagher can also be extremely clingy - on purpose. he enjoys holding you in his arms knowing that he can protect you and keep you close. so good luck if you have places to be because gallagher will have you in a tight bear hug which he won't let up any time soon.

sunday ★↷

↪he is normally very busy as the head of the oak family but he knows how important it is to keep up with things like sleeping to be able to actually function, so he tries his hardest but does has a tendency to put work first.

↪that being said, he does have a very high standard when it comes to his actual bed - he's sort of a mix because he likes having the comfiest things but he wouldn't complain otherwise. therefore he can be very accommodating to your needs.

↪he cares about his public appearance very much and so he has a very quick but efficient nightime and morning routine, he doesn't like spending time on such trivial matters but he needs to look pristine. sometimes if you're lucky enough you can see his wings looking very disheveled in the morning.

↪he probably didn't like the idea of sharing a bed to start with but he'd warm up to the idea much further into the relationship. although he isn't exactly one for cuddles, he much prefers that you have your own seperate sides of the bed - he'd be rather insistent on having his space.

↪sometimes you'd forget he's sleeping beside you. he barely moves at all and stays way too still to the point that you get a little weirded out, the only sign that he's still loving is the occasional flutter of his wings.

↪gets up super early. like way too early but he doesn't press you to get up at the same time unless you have somewhere to be. even if he doesn't have anywhere to be he gets up early because it's a habit for him.

robin ★↷

↪she can be equally as busy as her brother but most of the time she'd love nothing more than to end her day cuddled up beside you - her daily schedule can be much more accommodating to having a healthy sleep schedule.

↪as a very popular singer, she does need to keep up her appearance and so she has a very extensive and detailed nightime routine that she doesn't mind you joing her for if you wished. same goes for her morning routine.

↪robin is quite used to having many things and that translates into her bed as it has very fluffy blankets and lots of pillows. although she doesn't mind changing a few things if that isn't exactly your style.

↪a surprisingly light sleeper but she can move around quite a bit in her sleep. not exactly drastic movements but more small scale actions to readjust herself very often. she can be a massive cuddle bug so sometimes she does accidentally move you around with her.

boothill ★↷

↪chasing one bounty after another doesn't leave much room for somebody to lay low and have a proper rest. being a cyborg doesn't really help that case either as he doesn't exactly need to sleep to function - does he even need to recharge?

↪boothill really only started caring about sleep or 'recharging' when you came along. that being said, he doesn't exactly have a permanent place to stay so you might have to accommodate a cyborg into your room - but he is very adaptable and respectful of your space.

↪it becomes a moment for you two just to relax and unwind, he no longer has to worry about anything and can spend his time holding you. he probably can 'sleep' as a way to recharge but he becomes like a log and doesn't move at all until he's ready to go.

↪he does have a love hate relationship with having care routines, i do believe that he probably values his hair alot as it's the only remaining part of him from his life as a human but other than that he only looks after the rest of himself to make sure he doesn't malfunction.

↪he doesn't dare wake you unless you've specifically asked him too. so sometimes you may wake up to see him staring at you but you would learn to deal with that...

taglist - @little-miss-chaoss, @teddirika, @frankiesteinn

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

everyone settling into the hotel and figuring out the unsaid rules of cohabitation like

1 - it’s okay for Angel Dust to leave work stuff lying around IF ITS WASHED

2 - if you want a drink you ASK Husk. If you want to die you mess with his drink display

3 - TV is timeshared and if Alastor wants to use his timeslot to turn the tv OFF then no you can’t watch it just because he’s not using it

4 - Niffty can pin up the cockroach kill of the week in the lobby for everyone to wince at but it has to be on the cork board Charlie bought for her and she has to take the old ones down first each time

5 - if you break it you rebuild / replace it. You do NOT upgrade it with weapons while doing so (Sir Pentious THIS MEANS YOU) 5b - as long as it gets rebuilt / replaced no one gets to make a huge deal over something being broken or blown up again (or at Sir Pentious for doing it)

6 - don’t move around the fucking lobby furniture without moving it back afterwards 6b - if it’s in your room then you can do what you want but in all shared spaces the furniture NEEDS to be kept tidy and in proper place unless you want to hear swearing and sounds of violence as Vaggie trips over and throws her spear into a wall in frustration again, ruining the paper 6c - every third time this happens everyone has to sit through another presentation by Charlie explaining how having one eye is different when it’s not huge and in the middle of your head and you’re not basically at ground level

7 - Charlie can sing but only between 10am and 10pm unless it’s an emergency. If she tries singing outside of that whoever’s nearest is allowed to GENTLY hush her 7b - if you hush Charlie at any other time Vaggie will chase you. 7c - the above is NOT a recommended source of healthy exercise (you will have trauma)

8 - and above all have fun and FUCK yourself!

- Whoever changed “be” to “fuck”- it’s okay and you are loved <3

- Platonically. You are loved platonically, by me Charlie, who is writing this while standing next to my beautiful girlfriend.

- hey Charlie puff you alright? Sounds like she had a gun to your head while you were writin’ this XD

- It was more like her lips on my neck but yeah pretty close!

9 - Charlie and Vaggie are not allowed to be gross and cute in common areas they have a room for that sappy shit and need to keep it there thanks

- Homophobia.

- this is hell, toots

- You are literally a gay man Angel Dust

- I contain multitudes. Multitudes of d

- Bonding between friends is WONDERFUL but this is a list of rules not a chat room so let’s end things here ha ha ha ! Great job everyone!!!!

- KILL

- niffty what the fuck did you write that in it wont wash off

- BLOOD~

[venomhound]

Hazbin Hotel - Signs they Got a Crush

Dumb headcanons about ways you can tell Alastor, Charlie, Angel Dust, and Lucifer have a crush. Why this super specific lineup? Because my goat brain said so.

Vees DLC now available >>HERE<<

Contents/WARNINGS: Gender neutral reader; Valentino mention; nothing else just tons of fluff Actual diabetes brainrot below the cut ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

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Alastor ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧

NOTE: Gonna out myself here. I was the anon who put >>this ask<< into @6esiree's inbox. So if you notice my wording in here sounds familiar, thats why. Both idea were wrought from the same horrid brain

I know I've said it before, but this man is an enigma. Its very hard to distinguish if he 'just friend' likes you or if he 'like likes' you. From your perspective (and most people's perspective to be honest), you'll probably think he simply views you as a close friend.

The biggest cue that Alastor's feelings towards you have changed are his eyes. His eyes don't soften or anything like that, oh no. He just starts staring at you. All the time. You could literally be standing across the room and his eyes will still be glued to you.

Alastor starts studying you. Noticing all your tics, quirks, and body movements. Its actually quite uncanny how well he is able to track you with his gaze. You sometimes feel as if the man is hunting you.

Unfortunately, other then the whole 'staring at you like Mr. Darcy thing', Alastor has no 'big' tells. They are much more subtle.

Alastor's humor around you takes a weird shift. Not one your likely to notice, but its a shift nonetheless. Alastor's jokes/quips are normally fired out like shotgun blasts, hitting everyone and anyone. No one is safe from his sardonic humor.

But once he starts taking a liking to you, you strangely become exempt from his more piercing jokes. Don't get me wrong, he still jokes around you, its just more playful in tone rather then cutting.

Alastor will also start targeting specific people you dislike, or he will start using brand of humor that gets you to laugh. People will probably brush this behavior off as simply Alastor being an asshole. But its really because he is trying to get a reaction out of you. Alastor loves your laugh and feels a weird sense of pride when he gets you giggling.

Another subtle shift that happens is Alastor gets more... musical? I'm not sure how to put it exactly. Alastor is already fond of song and dance as it is. But when he has the love bug, Alastor starts humming to himself, he has music playing all the time, and he bursts into dance more frequently. His overall energy is just up.

What throws people off with this, is that Alastor's musical energy doesn't appear to be directed at anyone is particular. So true, he may be dancing more, but the guy will dance with whoever is available for him to swing around at the time. Its not a 'will only dance with you and when your around' thing.

If Alastor's feelings for you get too strong, and/or he has been repressing them for a long time, its going to start coming out in a new... strange way. His shadows will start behaving differently.

Alastor's shadows will start acting more independent of their master and being... gentle with you. Kind. They'll smile and wave to you behind his back, help you find things if you've lost something, or even leave you weird gifts.

There was even an incident where you were half sleeping on one of the couches in the hotel parlor. You vaguely registered Alastor walk by, before you felt the cold hands of one of his shadows pull a nearby blanket over you and tuck you in.

Alastor wont even be aware of this when it starts happening. And god forbid he finds out...

SUMMERY: 🦌 Will not. Stop. Staring at you. 🦌 His humor around you changes. Becomes more playful and interested in making you laugh 🦌 His love for music presents itself more; always ends up humming, singing, or dancing 🦌 If things go on too long, his shadows will start giving away his true feelings

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Charlie ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧

Charlie is a complete mess when she starts crushing on someone. Its not subtle, and its not pretty. You can blame her inability to handle her own emotions on her parents and their broken marriage to be honest. As a double whammy; Charlie absolutely takes after Lucifer in the Disaster Bisexual™ department. So she is already starting on the wrong foot here (buh dum tsh).

The ""Princess"" of Hell loses any sense of grace, balance, or concept of gravity. Charlie constantly has to have her eyes on you, which results in her not paying attention to where the fuck her limbs are at any given moment.

So she knocks things over while making big gestures, knocks things out of her own hands, walks into the doorframe, trips over herself, trips over nothing... you get the idea. Clutz meter is dialed up to 1000%. Please don't put her near anything fragile because it will be broken.

As is normal with crushes, you want to get to know about them, right? Well, Charlie knows, theoretically, that in order to get to know her crush and actually have a chance of something happening between them, she has to talk to them. However. Charlie is so nervous that she ends up talking their ear off instead.

Its strangely adorable. Charlie will go and seek her crush out, then just start rambling. The funniest part, is she always realizes when she does it too. Charlie will get super embarrassed and start apologizing profusely after realizing she went on the most random tangent about frogs for 5 solid minutes and didn't even let you get a word in

Silence is absolutely deafening to her. Charlie is incredibly anxious and tries so hard not to think about things too much because she will overthink it and start freaking out. So she just immediately fills any gaps in conversation with her own voice.

Also (much like Alastor), Charlie's energy goes way up when she gets a crush. She hums to herself, prances around, and sings even more then usual. The girl literally stops walking like a normal person, now opting to skip around and do little twirls.

If Charlie isnt dancing around and singing like a Disney princess, then she is drawing something. She always has a pencil in her hand (which is a WEAPON considering how much she falls over). Charlie will scribble down the most random ideas she has and illustrate them. All so she can talk to you about them in detail later.

Going back to taking after her dad; Charlie will pamper the heck out of you in the pre-dating stage. Although, inadvertently. She really wants to impress you, so she ends up going overboard instead.

You say that your hungry; Charlie grabs you by the arm and is dragging you to a 5 star restaurant. Your phone breaks; Charlie buys you a brand new one, and it already has her number in it. Heck, you could just ask her for a glass of water and Charlie would give you a entire goblet of fancy lemon water.

Charlie excuses all this under a thin veil of 'need'. Oh, you need to eat. You need a new phone to to be able to contact people. You need to drink. That's the weird logic she uses in her head of why she is getting you all this stuff. She is helping someone in need.

Of course, this neglects the full picture. You could have just eaten some chips, you didn't need steak at Hell's fanciest restaurant.

SUMMERY: 🌈 Gets two left feet. Trips and falls over herself constantly 🌈 Talks talks talks talks talkstalkstalks 🌈 Creative energy goes through the roof; sings, dances, and draws for you 🌈 Anything you need, Charlie will get you. Only its the 100x luxury version of what you needed

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Angel Dust ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧

Hot take, but Angel Dust is just as much of an enigma as Alastor is. Unlike Alastor, however, Angel actually does something about his feelings. He just... is super confusing about it.

You know how Angel flirts with everyone? Yeah, everyone except you. For once, Angel isnt interested in sex for sex sake. No, he wants more then that. The only way he knows to try and communicate that is to... not... flirt with you.

Since flirt mode is Angel's default mode, and he rarely turns it off, he gets stiff and awkward when interacting with you. His overall tone shifts to weirdly formal. Instead of using one of his trademark nicknames or a petname, Angel just straight up uses your actual name.

Its especially jarring when there are people like Charlie or Lucifer in the room. You know, royalty. People with actual status. Angel will throw a 'heya toots' at Charlie and a 'short king' at Lucifer, then he turns to you and uses your full name. Gives everyone in the room whiplash.

Your guaranteed to feel singled out if not insulted at first. But I promise, its the spider's attempt at showing he respects you and that your different to him by going a little too overboard with it.

Angel also starts wanting to show you everything the nightlife Pentagram City has to offer. The good and bad. Angel knows all the clubs and bars like the back of his hand, so he knows exactly where to take you.

Every single night, Angel Dust makes plans for you two or just spontaneously drags you out with him. He invites you to come bar hopping with him and Cherri, he takes you out dancing to one of his favorite nightclubs, Angel even lets you know what sex clubs are good and which ones to steer the hell clear from.

Angel is very careful to keep you as far away from Valentino as he can though. Not only for your protection, but the whole situation with his work and boss is a can of worms that he would rather you not get involved in. At all.

Angel might come across as a bit neurotic because of this whole Valentino wild card thrown into the mix of things. Angel will be taking you to a club, get word that Val is there, then start speeding you to a different one across town. Or you two will have plans, then Angel will just completely drop or change them so you don't end up running into the moth.

Since Angel is taking you everywhere and lowkey showing you off to everyone, he also starts getting super invested in your appearance. Especially if your insecure or haven't really dipped your toes in the nightlife before.

Angel offers to do your makeup before you two go out and gets incredibly giddy if you accept. Angel will then doll you up, making your makeup match his, and play it off as twining.

This doesn't stay to just makeup either. Angel loves to take you out shopping and will get you both matching or themed outfits. He absolutely LOVES it, and several people have assumed you two were already dating because of how well your outfits were coordinated.

SUMMERY: 🕸️ Counterintuitively gets less flirty and stiff; awkwardly uses your actual name and not a nickname 🕸️ Takes you out on the town; just wants to go out and have fun with you 🕸️ Becomes protective of you against Valentino. Purposely makes sure your not in locations he is and just stay the hell away from him 🕸️ Coordinates/matches his outfits and makeup to yours

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Lucifer ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧

Not subtle. At all. His crush is just a flashing neon light to everyone that even remotely knows him. However, because the subject of his affections presumably doesn't know him that well (if at all), Lucifer easily can come across as just being a goddamn weirdo. That is, if he doesn't end up making the person think he straight up dislikes them instead.

Lucifer gets so caught up in his own head that he cant actually interact with you to save his life. He is stuttering, weird noises are coming out of his mouth, some words are being hissed rather then spoken, and his brain to mouth filter is fucking busted.

So yeah. Even if you take out the fact that his mouth isnt working right; every other word in his sentences is actually wrong and he is just saying dumb shit. Complete disaster.

This results in Lucifer avoiding interacting with you. At least directly. He knows he is going to mess it up super bad so he tries to keep it to group settings so he can still be around you, but not look like a total idiot. Lucifer also does that thing where he will actually be talking to you, but doing it through a third party so he doesn't completely freak out and mess up his words.

On the off chance you two do interact alone, it always ends up with Lucifer apologizing. You will accidentally turn a corner, bump into him, and Lucifer is the one apologizing somehow. You could probably drop a cinderblock on the guy's foot and Lucifer would still be like 'I'm sorry my foot was in your way'.

Just because Lucifer cant... talk to you like a normal person doesn't mean he doesn't want your attention. Oh no. He wants all your attention.

This is where the 'Sin of Pride' really shows. If Lucifer even gets an inkling that you like something or it impresses you? He is all in on it to an absurd degree.

Oh, you said his wings were cool? Lucifer suddenly has them out all the time and keeps fluttering or stretching them to show off for you. You like men who can sing? Now Lucifer is gonna find any excuse to do a musical number in your presence. You start laughing at one of his jokes? Whelp. Clown man is now gonna turn into an entire clown show. You think he tells good stories? Get ready for Lucifer to start blabbing about his entire life story.

Unfortunately this happens with anything negative you might say as well. Lucifer takes it way too hard and either tries to prove you wrong, or takes whatever it is you said you don't like and throws it out a window.

You said bowties were silly? Lucifer suddenly shows up wearing an ascot. You made a comment that his cane is just a glorified apple on a stick? Whelp, its in a trashcan now and Lucifer is designing a much fancier one. You don't think Lucifer can hold his liquor? Now he is challenging Alastor to a drinking contest and getting absolutely trashed.

Look. This guy just really wants you to like him okay? Please love him. He is a disaster, but he can be your disaster.

SUMMERY: 🐤 Forgets how to form words or how human language even works 🐤 Can't handle interacting with you directly; so he uses a third party or group events 🐤 Apologizes. Alot. 🐤 CONSTANTLY trying to impress you, or at least, get your eyes on him. Embodiment of peacocking 🐤 Takes any negative comments to heart and goes out of his way to show how wrong they are

✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿‿✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿‿✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿

FURTHER READING ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧

If you want a super cute fic about Lucifer courting the reader with his wings, check out >>this post<< by @nicoliine

If you want to see a really good post on what attracts Alastor and Lucifer to someone, check out >>this post<< by @liliannadelaphinehartifelt

Then lastly, one of my favorite fics actually, check out the Unknown to Me and You series by @beejunos for an amazing take on Alastor's feelings coming out through his shadows. First part is >>here<< and second part is >>here<<

[occamstfs]

Spanish Shortcuts

Heyo, Here’s a Latino cultural/racial change, also my first foray into a possession transformation! Lessons to be learned about clicking dodgy links and letting spirits walk all over you!

¡Espero que lo disfrutes Atajos en Espanol! -Occam

The foreign language requirements of any American high school are guaranteed to be lackluster. It is no wonder that a nation so fixed on instilling American and English supremacy was so wont to neglect the study of foreign languages and culture. For his part Claude had just about forgotten all the Spanish that he learned not too many years ago. At the present moment he is browsing the web looking for some way to reclaim and improve on his meager knowledge. Despite his desire however, he is shockingly unwilling to do much at all to pursue this end.

Rather than the tried and true method of studying each day Claude is instead looking for not only the easy way, but an instantaneous way to regain his lost knowledge. This is obviously a beyond foolish endeavor, though having long heard tales of people waking up speaking in languages they hadn’t learned he was deep in rabbit holes online scouring for a ticket to bilingualism. Unwilling to admit that they were just old wives’ tales or shitposts he clicks link after link sure the next one will lead to some fruition.

Deep in websites he certainly should not be visiting without a firewall he actually stumbles on a thread in Spanish. Hastily translating the page through Google it promises the fluency of a native speaker through a single click. Claude scratches his cheek wondering whether or not to go through with it, could be malware, probably just a link to a meme or the like. He looks at the link in blue text, it’s just a name: Carlos Herrero. With little further ado Claude decides fuck it what’s the worst that could happen and clicks the name in blue.

The lights in his room flicker as his hand holding his mouse is promptly shocked. He pushes away from his desk shaking his hand in pain as suddenly there is a chill in the air. He shivers as he hears a voice, deep and unknown, whispering in his ear. “Hola hola hola mi perrito.” Claude shakes his head feeling the tickle of a beard on his cheek and swats at the air. “Ay! Lo siento, ah- ¿cuál es su nombre? Claude ¿Verdad? ¿Me entiendes?” (Ah! Sorry, uh- What is your name? Claude, is it? Can you understand me?) 

Claude looks around his room in shock at this mysterious voice, immediately assuming he’s lost his mind. He shakes his head trying to wake up or come to his senses, after a few shakes he feels a cold powerful hand grasp his jaw. He hears the voice continue to speak in words he couldn’t understand and did his best not to process lest it worsen the state of his mind. His eyes widen in shock as he stares into the space, feeling the skin on his face contort in response to a hand that is not there. He feels the grip tighten and his breathing  accelerates as he starts to hyperventilate.

As if in response to his fear the hand disappears from his face and he feels a heavy arm around his shoulder. “¿No querías saber español?” (Do you not want to know Spanish?) Claude’s ears pick up as he hears Spanish he can just about recall. In doing so his brain immediately reprocessed the preceding events in order to maintain any semblance of sanity. The link must have worked! This is just a dream or something that will end with him knowing Spanish, just like a video game. He just needs to play along until he wakes up. Neglecting how real everything clearly is he addresses the voice, willing himself to believe whatever it is that it’s not malevolent. “Okay, uh I’m down for whatever, thanks for your help, uh, ghost?”

“De Nada, Claudio.” With this Claude’s visions flicker as the chill in the air fills him. He gasps and sees his breath condensate as every inch of his body is ice cold. Claude falls out of his chair and scratches at himself, instinctively trying to claw something out of his body. He rolls onto his hands and convulses, retching as if trying to throw something up. As the seconds pass he feels his body rapidly warm from the bitter freeze, unsure if this is a mirage of heat like the comfort one feels in the throes of hypothermia he paws at his chest.

Before finding confirmation in any way Claude hears the alluring whispers once more, though this time not tickling his ear. Rather it is now a voice within his own head. “Testing testing, ah would you look at that. Now I’m speaking a language you can understand huh? Hahah!” Claude’s brow furrows as he wipes spit from his mouth. This was not the easy nap and wake up anew process that he was promised. As if it had access to his thoughts the voice responds to this. “Ah sorry if I misled you little guy, this is going to be a bit of work. Trust though! It will certainly be easier and quicker than wasting your time studying!” Claude rolls his eyes before remembering since this is probably a dream that at the very least in reality this will be over briefly. 

Claude then tilts his head and asks out loud to the voice in his head, “Why are you speaking in English now?” It sounds just like the one he heard earlier, if not a little more playful as it responds, “Ahh language processors, something or other- Don’t worry your little head about it, in time we both will be thinking in Espanol ya? In the meantime why not jumpstart it!” Claude purses his lips trying to find the inscrutable voice’s intentions as he does so the heat in his body begins to convert to energy.

He suddenly feels as if he’s had enough caffeine to power a body three times his size. He feels every muscle in his body demand attention and exercise as his hands start to shake. “Oh would you look at that! If it’s any help any time I used to get excited or stressed I’d always hit the gym, ya dig?” Already motioning to get changed for the gym to blow off some of this energy Claude pauses to once more try and understand the implications of the voice’s statement. “Sorry, what do you mean you used to?” 

There is then a jarring silence in his mind. Claude stands, gym clothes in hand, without a thought in his mind before the voice replies trying its best to disarm him despite its deep gruff tone, “Ah well, you know how these things go, it’s just dream logic right? This is all lucid dream, the quicker you stop questioning the sooner you’ll be a pro.” He feels a vein of chill air dash through his mind once more and he nods in agreement. His eyes lose their sharpness as he decides to just listen, throwing on some clothes and heading out.

Heeding the voice he endeavors not to question his circumstances. He gets in his car and does not wonder why, if he is truly dreaming, that he did not just poof over. Feeling his heart start to beat quickly in his chest, in response to anxiety in his chest or to the energy only continuing to course through his veins he is not sure. He looks in his rearview mirror to calm himself and sees the same reflection he always has. Claude smiles at himself seeing at least his appearance is static in this dreadful dream and heads in to get this over with, the voice in his cheering him on as he makes his way in. Increasing in fervor and volume with each step towards the door.

Once inside he Claude is shocked as the voice suddenly drops out of his head leaving him once more with the harsh silence of but his own thoughts. After having such a loud visitor in his mind he is almost uncomfortable with the feeling. Stepping up to the counter to check in he greets the receptionist, “Heyo! It’s Claudio hermano!” The receptionist tilts his head as for a second it’s almost like two voices came from the man in front of him. Claude looks down at himself and clears his throat before trying again, “Lo, Urgh, Sorry about that, Um It’s Claude Smith.”

The receptionist checks him in and Claude goes off to stretch. He doesn’t usually spend much time at the gym, just enough to stay thin. But something inside him tells him that today will be different. Something inside him. His head twitches to the side as the idea washes across his mind. Looking around the room to ensure he’s alone he tries talking to the voice, doing so he does not notice that his pitch has lowered, “Hey uh, I know you told me not to ask questions. But did you make me call myself Claudio earlier?” Having paused his stretches he feels a burning in his arms and legs demanding they keep moving. Obeying the pain, his lips quiver as if he’s about to speak and the voice responds, “Ay ¿Crees? (You think so?)Es just a slip of the tongue ya?”

Claude continues stretching carefully, taking deep breaths to assuage the anxiety building in his chest. He is facing away from the wall of mirrors, unintentionally or through some subtle manipulation. Otherwise he may notice as his hair slowly begins to darken to a deep shade of brown. The blonde locks he has always been proud of maintain their length as they darken unnaturally. The thought pops into his head that he would look good with brown hair si? He shakes it away as soon as it appears though, biting his lip to avoid voicing his concern at how much power this “voice” has over him.

Trying to center himself he closes his eyes as he continues to stretch. The companion in his mind is thankfully quiet as he pushes away the discomfort at the silence and instead appreciates the freedom. Little does he know the presence is simply acting on him in other avenues as he stretches. Claude smiles as he feels the burning relief of his stretches, grunting quietly enough that he notices not how his voice has continued to deepen, inching closer to the voice that is not his own. 

The pleasant burn of his legs as he stretches them becomes almost intoxicating as he leans against the mirrored wall. Were his eyes open he would see his calves begin to grow beyond those that he wakes up to every morning. They begin to bulge larger and longer as he extends them. Muscle the size of a baseball forces its way onto them as he stands smiling dumbly. His thighs then stain larger to match pace as they expand to hold the weight of someone a foot taller than he. The soothing burn of stretching hides the soreness that should be apparent and Claude begins to sweat as if he has been heartily working out for some time now.

Not to be outdone there is a whisper in his head that he should stretch his arms as well. Without a further thought, almost without his mind even sending the order to do so, his arms are out in front of him. Each second his arms lie extended they stretch further out from his torso. Claude motions to stretch his shoulders, wrapping one arm around the other, his biceps rub against each other as he squeezes his arm tight to his chest. His arms begin to show a bulge of muscle as he stands there biting his lip at the pleasure being wrought upon him through simple stretching.

Finally he raises his arms above his head to stretch his meager chest, struggling to do so as his larger muscles have begun to impede his dexterity. With his arms in the air and his pits exposed he notices that something has begun to stink up the locker room he’s been stretching in. Claude opens his eyes looking for the assailant, to no avail. He turns his head to the side thoughtlessly putting his nose in his pit, finding the scent closer he takes a deep breath before finding himself starting to chub at the scent. The voice in his head laughs, “¡Jajaja! ¡Nice brazos (arms) perrito! ¿A ti también te gusta mi olor, eh?” (You like my smell as well huh?)

Despite his best efforts at centering himself during his stretches, he is once more consumed with anxiety. He looks down at his body that he knows should be petite but instead finds one that does not go two days without hitting el gimnasio. He flinches as his mind automatically went for the word in Spanish. Wait, did the voice in his head just say his smell!? He sniffs the air and a thought forces itself to the front of his mind, Well this is what I wanted wasn’t it? His ears ring as he is not sure if those are his thoughts or ones implanted by whatever monster is doing this to him.

Claude feels an itch on his hand and he looks down to see the hand that clicked that link some time ago as it begins to darken. He sees a rich tan begin to spread up his suddenly muscular arm as veins throb down it aiming to increase the mass. “Q- What es, happening!?” Claude turns to look in the mirror and finds the tan racing across his body. He sees the patches of his unmistakably white skin tone become naturally sunkissed as his eyes widen in shock. He freezes up and the voice in his head takes advantage and tries to seize control outright, flexing his arm and revealing the thin patch of blonde hair in his pit as it grows dark as the hair on his head and thickens beyond the pale. The voice speaks in his mind deeper and stronger than ever as he begins to outright vie for control, “Tranquilo Claudio. (Chill out Claudio.) Let us see what I can do jaja!”

It takes a bit of concerted effort but the voice, who outs himself unsurprisingly as Carlos himself, step by step forces Claude’s body across the room in his catatonia. Claude feels a smirk on his face as Carlos positions him at the bench press. He clumsily lays back on the bench before checking the weights. Looks like some cabrón left his weights on the bar, though actually it's fortunate as Carlos doubts he has the ability to do such complex motor functions as he feels Claude start to wake from his stupor.

Carlos feels an itch on Claude’s face and he begins to smirk as he feels facial hair begin to grow, “Ay he might have cojones yet jaja!” Claude feels his mouth move of its own accord and finally notices that his voice has lowered considerably and he feels his body struggle as he tries to gasp as hears it develop a deep accent.

Before Claude can wrestle control back Carlos grabs for the bar and starts to do a rep. He grunts as he realizes this body is simply not strong enough at the moment to manage the weight that was left on the rack. As the pole is just about to pin him however Claude senses the peril and both minds in the body force the bar up. “¡Bien Claudio! Let’s see what we can do juntamente si?” (together yes?) Claude tries to grunt out a protestation but is suddenly racked with pain as his body must grow larger to force the bar up.

Both men feel as weight begins to pile onto the twink’s only recently muscled body. Claude feels as pecs develop on his chest, totally ripping the tank top that had grown tight while stretching. Carlos feels as his biceps surge larger than the thighs this weak body had not two hours ago. The expression on his face flickers between ecstasy and concern as he lies on the bench doing repetitions as his core strengthens and puts on mass.

After his chest and arms grow large enough to send existential fear into Claude’s mind and a hungry lust for more into Carlos’ balls, Claude stumbles off the bench and falls to the floor, letting the weights crash next to him. He feels pin pricks as tattoos begin to stain his tanned skin and he cries out in his changed voice, “No! Este es- This isn’t right!” with each word his voice cracks deeper and the English words become a tad more difficult to maneuver his mouth around. Without a beat, Carlos immediately takes control of his mouth and responds as his voice finishes changing to match the one in his head. “Ah, ahí estás equivocado amigo. Esto es perfección.” (Ah, there you are wrong friend. This is perfection)

Claude stands to stare in the mirror watching sweat trail down his body and ink rise in his skin. He looks at his chin as a beard begins to shadow his face. He sees his eyes as they flicker and begin to darken to a deep cacao brown. His lip quivers as if he is about to cry before without any input from him it turns to a sneer as he feels Carlos chastise him without words. Claude feels a pit in his chest as not only does he not need to hear them, he begins to feel the disdain himself. As if the will of Carlos was starting to become his own.

This causes a surge in his crotch as he feels in that regard Carlos has already wrestled full control. He feels his balls that are not his begin to grow and demand attention. They feel full and needy as pre begins to leak out of his growing erection. That happens anytime he goes to the gym si? As his eyes shift down to see his bulge make itself known his facial hair expands and his pubes begin to crest above his waistline. The small bush of pit hair begins to grow into a jungle as his balls work overtime to produce testosterone to power his poderoso body.

Feeling the hormones from Carlos’ balls pump through his veins Claude realizes what a losing battle he faces. He feels his thoughts begin to mingle with the man he foolishly allowed into his body as he begins to feel himself overwhelmed with the pressure and lust issuing forth from his crotch. He feels his fluency in English begin to wane as Carlos begins to overpower every aspect of his personality. Claude continues to stare at his reflection in the mirror and the anxiety and fear rapidly dissipate as he enjoys the power that he wields. “¡Dios estoy tan chacondo!” (God I’m so Horny) The two men voice as one, his voice reverberating through his chest as he feels power continue to surge through him.

Claude watches as his body flexes itself in the mirror without a single thought or any input from him. Not that he minds, it’s doing exactly what he would be doing anyway si? He smirks seeing his cock bob up and down as he struts across the gym floor. Every thought in his head is in fluent Spanish as he feels his identity fully mingle with Carlos’ as they truly become one. Despite this originally being Claude’s body he feels himself shrink and mold as he becomes an aspect of Carlos’ personality. Every action, every word, every movement will be crafted by the two of them. Though altogether Claude will just about always find himself thinking just as Carlos does, and both minds will more often than not be ruled by the powerful hormones coming from below.

“Debería haber preguntado sobre los términos y condiciones, Hermano.” (Should’ve asked for the terms and conditions bro.) He thinks to himself as he makes his way to the gym’s showers to pump one out. Over time even Carlos would forget that this has not always been his body. Each day he would continue to make it his own, increasing his mass and power. Outgrowing a wardrobe of clothes he would never be caught dead wearing. It did not take long at all to establish his supremacy as Carlos Herrero. Though there was some inherent difficulty navigating this land only knowing Spanish, Carlos managed well enough, confident that if needed he could perhaps let his passenger breathe enough to regain some English. At this point however it’s hard to say if any remnants of Claude remain, and moreover if he would even desire to emerge back into his own mind, it is of course much easier to simply indulge in the ceaseless pleasure he has found for himself within Carlos’ mind.

[ddarker-dreams]

Worthy Motivator.

Blade x Reader.

Warnings: Typical Blade morbidity, Blade's slightly yan because I can never write him as Normal, and not SFW implications. Word count: 1k.

Author notes are at the end of the story!

Washcloth in hand, you wipe away the perspiration clinging to your skin. 

While doing so, you squint, an act your reflection obediently mimics, confirming that yes; this disheveled figure is indeed you. You smooth out your hair, moisturize your face, then apply a light layer of toner. The process is completed in a timely fashion. A few hand motions made midair dim the bathroom’s lights.

Yawning, the door slides open at your behest, retreating into the wall like a turtle does its shell. The room is dome-shaped and customized to your liking. A light birch wood floor, pale pink walls, and windows showcasing scenery of a tulip field stretching on for miles. Windmills dot the distance, turning at their leisure. Gentle orange hues from two rising suns envelop the room in a cozy glow. 

If you hadn’t known any better, you’d believe you were actually on the planet Ethos, not traversing the cold, unforgiving space between galaxies.

While playing with the settings to change the time being depicted to twilight, it finally dawns on you that you’re not alone. 

Blazing eyes freeze you in place and your breath catches in your throat. 

“Blade,” you greet, wincing at how gracelessly the word rolls from your tongue, “I didn’t expect…” 

You cut yourself off, figuring that finishing the sentence will strengthen the bizarre atmosphere. What can be said, anyway? ‘Thanks for that,’ or ‘couldn’t have done it without you,’ maybe? Both options seem equally terrible. To make matters worse, he doesn’t explain why he’s stuck around. He continues to stand beside your nightstand, arms crossed over his chest, his lips drawn in a straight line. 

You’re the only one boasting signs of your previous tryst, the most obvious being your unsteady gait. Hoping to convey some decorum, you clasp your hands behind your back and straighten your posture. Surely, he’ll spill whatever’s on his mind and then make himself scarce. That’s been his modus operandi ever since this undefined relationship stumbled into existence. You tried not to take it personally. You’re both adults, if he doesn’t want to stick around for pillow talk, you won’t fault him for it. 

His eyes sear through your being. 

“You’re going to Illij.” 

You blink, thrown off by the flat delivery and the intentions it conceals. He’s either painfully blunt or cryptic in his word choice. It’d be nice if he could find a middle ground between both extremes, but that’s wishful thinking. 

With unusual impatience, he adds, “Alone.” 

Ah. 

A certain magenta-haired beauty’s previous words resurface in your mind. 

“—Alone? Not taking Bladie along for the ride?” she had tutted. “You’ll hurt his feelings.” 

You thought she was teasing, as she’s wont to do, yet your developing dilemma proves otherwise. That, or you couldn’t bring yourself to acknowledge the truth in her words. 

Whilst shifting your weight from one foot to another, you meekly reply, “Kafka gave me permission.” 

He has the audacity to roll his eyes at you. 

“Permission, huh?” 

The condescension corrodes your former sheepishness. 

Placing a hand on your hips, you reply, “That’s the word I used, yes.” 

Your room pulsates with palpable tension. He stands to his full height — having been seated on your bed’s edge — sauntering over like a cat poised to pounce. You cross your arms over your chest as the distance shrinks. He’s yet to fully dress himself, wearing only his signature gray pants. His bare torso is marred with innumerable scars that vary in length and angle. Every time you both succumb to the heat of passion, his bandages occupy a new spot, depending on the circumstances of his latest battles. Presently, the cloth coils around his midsection and upper left arm. 

He’s close enough now for you to notice the latter unraveling. 

It isn’t anything logical that urges you forward. The sentiment resides deep in the recesses of your psyche, unsuccessfully shoved down by denial and trepidation. This formless substance takes shape as you meet him halfway. Blade towers over you. Given the massive gap in your abilities, you should fear him, but you know your pounding heart isn’t spurred by negative emotion. 

Much to his perplexity, you set aside the nascent quarrel, focusing your attention elsewhere. Nimble fingers resecure the rebellious cloth. 

“You’re terrible at taking care of yourself,” you mutter. “Honestly, what am I s’posed to do with you…?” 

It’s subtle, but this shift in tone relaxes his muscles. That is, until you admit: 

“I don’t like you being my bodyguard.”

Confusion contorts his countenance, then something more raw; something dangerously intimate. 

“I don’t like seeing you get hurt because of me,” you continue, lowering both your voice and head. “It’s… it’s awful and— and then— you don’t even care!” 

Hoping to avoid further humiliation, you stop there, taking deep breaths to prevent tears from flowing. This wasn’t the direction you wanted the evening to take. You wanted to take a bath, dip into a game Silver Wolf wouldn’t stop raving about, and then prepare for your imminent trip. The trip that’d put thousands of lightyears between you and a man whose blood spilled for your sake could rival an ocean. 

“I’ll be fine on my own. I’ve got Silv’s disguise software and she knows how to track me. So — I don’t know — take it easy, or something. You’ve got the month off.” 

His response is immediate. “I can’t.”

“Wh— did you not hear anything I just said?” you sputter. 

“I heard,” he confirms. He raises his hand to the bandage you rewrapped, as if trying to savor your lingering warmth. “When you’re gone, I cannot ‘take it easy.’” 

Blade uses your stupefaction to his advantage. He takes your much smaller hand into his and places it over his heart. It thumps at a slow, steady pace, like it hasn’t been obliterated and formed anew thousands of times. Your fingers twitch. His body, though colder than the average person’s, emits just enough warmth to indicate life. You feel the raised, textured skin that’s present above his every vital organ. It speaks of untold horrors; untold suffering. 

His chest rumbles as he says, “If I’ve no choice but to live… you’d make for a worthwhile reason.” 

You rest your forehead against his chest and squeeze your eyes shut. 

Kafka… are you sure it isn’t my feelings that’re in the most danger? 

A/N: owing to mental illness, aside from nexus, i devised another storyline for (slightly) less unhinged blade, this time with a stellaron hunter reader. while it has the material to make a series, i don't plan on starting up another multi-chaptered work until i make further progress into my current project 😭 still, i'm happy to talk about it if anyone's curious! here are some tidbits that give additional story context for this universe:

reader isn't super thrilled to be a stellaron hunter. a desperate situation ended in them joining the ranks. they're the emanator of the aeon of illumination, whose name i'm still undecided on. essentially, they're a 'consumer of stars,' capable of absorbing + storing well. you guessed it. stars. as you can imagine, this ability can provide immeasurable energy or devastation depending on its usage.

as a consequence, when reader's performing the sealing process, they're extremely vulnerable. it isn't exactly subtle, people tend to notice when their nearby sun is going cyaaaaaa ✌ and try to stop them. that's where bladie comes in. he kills anything and anyone that threatens them.

ethos is a pretty meadow planet that's known for harvesting clean energy (hydro, solar, wind) and using minimum technology. most of its inhabitants go their entire lives without ever seeing a computer. long distance communication is carried out through a dedicated fleet of carrier pigeons.

illij is a laissez-faire paradise. consumerism galore. ads projected in the night sky, ads projected in your dreams in certain low income areas where people can't afford space adblock™. it's a lot but sometimes reader appreciates the distraction.

[lexirosewrites]

Have we ever played around with A!Steve getting injected with something during S3 that bitches him and turns him into an omega? i vaguely remember the idea but i dunno if it was a fic or if it was someone during slick sunday lol

I love the idea though, especially if it doesnt take effect immediately, like it has to be triggered by a heat/rut. So when Steve's rut, which happens every 4 months or so, starts to ramp up, he's smacked into an omega presentation. Blood and all due to his bodys anatomy shifting.

The goons at the lab are contacted by B!Robin because Steve calls her in an absolute panic. They run tests, Steve is perfectly healthy based on the tests, as is Robin. They assume (correctly) that something was in the russian serums they were shot with. Robin of course questions things, and they tell her it must need an extreme hormone trigger. Her being a beta means she doesnt have ruts/heats so it wont trigger a change in her.

Steve decides to just roll with the punches again, he does panic, obviously. if his parents fine out he's fucked. He starts hording money in a shoe box. He wears scent blockers in his house but not out just in case his parents return home at random. Aside from his ruts becoming heats and having to embarrassingly buy some toys with knots a few cities over, nothing has changed much and he realizes one day when the party and Robin are teasing him about being such a mom, that he actually Can be a mom and has to excuse himself to freak out. He gets over it pretty damn quickly though too and is excited for that aspect.

If s4 happens and turns into O!Steve absolutely drooling a bit over A!Eddie and his scent, and muttering to Robin how much he wants him, well, who are we to deny a happy ending where Eddie lives, but is definitely beat up, just to get kissed stupid by Steve when he finally wakes because Steve was scared shitless.

We’ve definitely tossed around the idea of Steve getting bitched with Russian serums here and there. It never gets old! Why not add another layer of suffering for him that inadvertently gets him what he really needs in life?🤭

[shnarky-blogs]

𝙾𝙷 𝙳𝙰𝚁𝙻𝙸𝙽𝙶-

ˢᶜᵃʳ ˣ ᶠᵗᵐ ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ

𝚂𝚄𝙼𝙼𝙰𝚁𝚈: 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘 𝚓𝚘𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚋𝚋𝚘𝚛𝚗 𝚊ñ𝚍 𝚔𝚎𝚙𝚝 𝚘𝚗 𝚍𝚎𝚌𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛.. 𝚂𝚘 𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚒𝚡 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍!

ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ ᵗᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ʳᵒᵛᵉʳ’ˢ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ ʰᵉʳᵉ

(there may be mistakes because i literally skipped everytime the NPCs talk.. im too lazy to listen to them talking OKAY?!)

Hours ago you stumbled upon Scar.. again! He just wont stop asking begging you to join his organization, and you don't think he'd stop soon.

Scar was slowly getting frustrated of you declining or saying no everytime he asks you out.. its stressing him out reeeaaall bad.

Like why wont you join him? He's strong! He's cool? Like why?

He got so pent up on that shitty word 'No', its ticking him off badly, its like he just wanna destroy that word coming out from those beautiful lips of yours..

So he plans on changing that mind of your for good..

Be kidnapped you right from thay spot, knocking you out and took you somewhere you're unfamiliar with.

You later woke up to see yourself wrists tied up at the back, you scanned the surroundings and noticed Scar was now Infront of you.. smirking.

"Well, well, well"

He spoke out, voice ringing through the silence.

"It seems you're awake now my dear~"

He knelt down to your height, that devious smirk still present on that face of his.

"You know why you're Here sweetheart?"

You sat quiet, staring at him with genuine confusion.

"Well.. i had enough of that shitty.. word i wouldn't even dare say it myself.. sooooo im here to help!"

He smiles, teeth showing as he flashes you a playful smirk.

"And how?.."

You replied, unfaze.

His smile widens.

"Let. me. Show. You"

Suddenly he playfully unzips your zipper, pulling your pants down.. your eyes widen in shock at his boldness, soon your pants and boxers were stripped off of you, leaving you bare to the elements of the outside.

You tried to hide your cunt by closing your legs, only to be roughly spread apart by Scar himself, you can clearly tell he's growing impatient, his eyes bore through you like an animal that finally caught his prey.

Just from his eyes, he's already devouring your bare form, his cock already hard inside his pants as he scanned more closely at your beautiful skin, your boy cunt dripping between your legs.. it was.. God it was so hard to make it up in words but- it looks so fucking tasty.

He began playing with your folds, making sure to get it all wet for him to slide in later, Your face scrunched up due to his rough fingers slide between your delicate folds causing your hips to jerk forward.

His touch teasing and torturous, despite you trying to control yourself, your own body seems to betray you due to the pleasure you are feeling.

Soon he slides his fingers in, you boy pussy already wet from that rubbing and teasing, he couldn't help but smirk at your reactions.. so cute and adorable to look at.

But.. he needed more from that..

He grows impatient again, but he needed to stretch you out nicely.. he wouldn't want to hurt his cute darling, right?

Once he thinks you're loose enough he pulled his finger out your weeping boy pussy and replaced it with his cock, he made sure to be gentle, he could barely hear your sweet moans as his cock thrust in so gently.

He nuzzled up his cock in your warmth, and dear lords.. it felt so great having you wrapped around his cock.

His hips slowly began to move, finding rhythm in his thrust.

He moved slowly at first, pulling out beautiful moans from your beautiful lips.

His thrust grew faster as time goes on, his hand locked in a vice grip on your hips, making sure you wouldnt escape from his grasp.

Little cries fills the air as he pounds deeper, your poor cervix getting abused by his tip constantly thrusting in and out of your already sensitive boy pussy.

"Hah.. i bet this'll change that mind of yours sweetie~"

He chuckled out breathlessly.

"being such.. such a-a good boy for me.. yeh? Such a sweet boy taking daddy's cock.."

He growls softly, slowly loosing his mind from the pleasure.

Your face contorts into on in pleasure, tears swelled up in your eyes as you begged for him to either stop or go faster.. you just couldn't think straight anymore with that cock pistoning in and out of you like that, your mind tells you to stop but your body tells you the opposite.

The look on your face is so darn cute and he swears on mentally remembering every detail of that face of yours..

He thrust went faster, his hips stutter and it was clear he's close to cumming.

"N-no.. please.."

You were sadly too late, he came in you.. filling your pretty womb full of his cum..

But despite cumming, he began to move again.. you looked up at his face and it was clear he won't be done anytime soon..

[blondieeu]

comfort inn. aizawa s.

a/n; early christmas content?!

being in a long term relationship with aizawa shouta and eventually making him a holiday person even though he denies it.

"shouta, you're still the most talented gift wrapper I know," you teased as you peaked under the absurdly large and fully decorated christmas tree that had actually no business in your small apartment.

more specifically, you were peaking at the nicely wrapped and carefully lined up boxes placed under it. on the other side of the christmas tree, were your clearly not so neatly wrapped presents.

as you both laid on the couch, him on the L side of the couch with his arms lazily behind his head, your small tuxedo cat- terra took over the other half of the couch (literally just the arm of the couch) and you, not too far away from him but not touching as you both laid there in one another presence.

he wore a long sleeve black shirt and some pajama pants. his hair was in a nice low sleek bun you did for him while he brushed his teeth. he doesn't ask you to put his hair in a bun for him anymore, you just do it because you know he appreciates it.

shouta narrowed his eyes at you. "someone has to maintain elegance in this chaotic apartment." he mumbled, almost under his breath but he knew you could hear him. the lower half of his face was covered by a fluffy white throw blanket.

"maintaining elegance is crazy work, you know that right?" you chuckled out loud peeling your eyes from the impeccably wrapped presents to your boyfriend, laughing loudly when you made eye contact and he cracked a smirk that quickly went away. "besides, your elegance looks a lot like perfectionism to me shouta."

"same difference." he didn't even move from his position on the couch, arms still behind his head. aizawa had been wrapping gifts like that since your very first christmas together, he wrapped you one on your first date.

your large christmas tree shined brightly from the corner of your living room. many colorful decorations, lights, ornaments and a bunch of other shit could be seen on it. it was so big and extra and unnecessary, especially for your apartment - you loved it so much.

"..are you social distancing now?" you smiled at his subtle request for you to come closer, obliging him as you settled back into the warmth of your couch. you weren't really cuddling, just laying beside one another. you relished in the feeling of the heat radiating off your boyfriend.

eventually, your gaze swept across the small apartment you and shouta made into a home throughout the years of your relationship. currently, it turned into what looked like someones grandma's house over the holidays - specifically yours... and it may or may not have been because you stole a bunch of her stuff years ago and wont give it back.

sparkly christmas lights, and sneaky mistletoes placed above the more frequently used door frames. the smell of baking cookies filled all the unoccupied spaces in your home. 'ridiculous' color changing lights danced around on your ceiling too, something you personally insisted you have in the house this christmas.

"up to eight christmas' man. " you began, affection filling your voice. "i can't believe I ended up turning the king of emo into a christmas pro." you fell into a fit of laughter as you continued to poke fun at him, he kept his eyes glued to the television mounted on the wall. terra yawned and leaped off the couch before disappearing behind the kitchen island.

the pro-hero raised a bushy brow, ignoring the fact that she left. "emo..?" he seemed a little taken aback that someone would tell him that. "im a little quiet, I'll admit." "a little?-" you sat up on your elbow, turning towards him with raised eyebrows.

"I speak when necessary. there's nothing 'emo' about me."

"what about that drawing koda made of you?" you both thought back to a week prior; visiting the wild wild pussycats and finding a crumbled picture of shouta poorly drawn as the grinch, which was ironic because you were only visiting to ask what koda would want this christmas. a snicker was heard from your side of the couch, a side eye was also received directly after.

shouta turned his head at the mention of the piece of paper, trying to hide his faint smile. "koda's artistic skills are.. a little questionable." you laughed again. "and I'm not a 'christmas pro.' I just enjoy.. some aspects of the holiday." "yeah, like what?" you threw a leg over his as you cuddled into him to steal his blanket.

"don't let me find out you really do like our sparkling rainbow ceiling lights shouta!" your long-term boyfriend instinctively put an arm around your shoulder as you laid your head on his chest, then fixing the blanket on top of the both of you. "I tolerate them."

"you're my closet christmas king" he looked down at you with an unexpected chuckle, his breath tickled the bridge of your nose. "don't tell anyone that." you happily held up your pinky, he obliged and curled his with yours as you sealed it with a kiss. "secrets safe with me baby"

blondieeu xx

[lesbomaticlove]

ive talked about it before but i wanna talk about it again and that's

body types in drawing especially in terms of one piece characters

and i know its because official art presents them all the same but it just does not feel right to me, y'know? especially when i look at fanart and it looks like they just drew the same body multiple times with different faces (talent in that yes but god change it up a bit PLEASE)

like with my style i like to draw semi-realistic cartoon type beat, and that means im thinking about an abstract of shape language in the way that i present the characters. i consider their fighting styles and workouts when i think about what their body type would be, not just for op ive done this with mha and jjk characters too because god dammit gege, maki deserves bulkier muscles for her efforts

so here it is. my analysis of more semi-realistic designs for these characters. all my opinion and not meant to be a call out to anyone.

also, not including the women because we all know how unrealistic they look and i dont need to explain that to you im begging just use reference.

LUFFY

rubberhose arms are ESSENTIAL in his design so when i draw him, i never put too much definition in his muscles. real definition should be reserved for gears that alter his muscles

noodly arms and stick ass legs that is his Charm thank you i dont need super definition

ZORO

on the opposite end of the spectrum, zoro.

though, i see many people draw him more bodybuilder silhouette when he should be powerlifter silhouette, youve SEEN how this man works out. stereotypical bodybuilder physique that's all muscle and no fat is EXTREMELY UNHEALTHY TO MAINTAIN and you know theres no damn way sanjis letting someone on the ship watch their weight for the sake of visuals. he should be defined and bulky, but softer edges on the abs.

USOPP

Speaking first on pre ts, what does he excel at most? long range weapons and running.

obviously he gets proper strength training during timeskip, but i really think the best representative for him is olympic sprinters

muscular, but still pretty skinny

SANJI

hear me out. ballet physique.

i see him drawn w the same physique as Zoro and it just feels so wrong. he doesnt train his upper body, so most of his definition would be in his core and legs. not to mention his flexibility tracks with that.

maybe ill come back with a figure study on these later to fully show how it translates into my drawings but. for now. tumblr wont let me add any more images to this post

[cryptidghostgirl]

Make You Wish Chapter Four -- Vox

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: I don't think there are any for this chapter? Correct me if I am wrong.

Word Count: 1,225

Previous Part: Chapter Three -- A Reunion

Master Lists 

Hazbin Hotel Master List 

Make You Wish Master List

A/N I wasn't planning on posting this until tomorrow, but it seems to have some rather excited fans so here is chapter four (and the fourth thing I'm publishing today. We're very done for the day. I am tried and have actual work to do.) Also guys, I'm screaming. I accidentally deleted the whole things right before I was gonna post it. Thankfully I had a draft from when it was almost done save but like, god that sucked.

On the screen was Vox, seated behind a desk.

"Top of the hour and we're discussing a certain has-been how has been spotted cavorting around town after a seven year absence." Vox was saying, a poorly drawn image of Alastor displayed on the screen to his left.

Y/n saw Alastor's ear twitch with irritation.

"Yeah." she sighed, folding her arms across her chest, "Vox has gone kinda crazy since you left. I told you, things got tough."

"Did anybody miss him? Did anybody notice? More on tonight's program." Vox said through the TV, shuffling a stack of papers.

Alastor changed the channel with another flick of his finger.

"Hun, don't worry yourself with it." Y/n advised, "He's still gonna be there tomorrow."

The new channel showed a talk-show set up, Vox-2-Nite, where Vox was both host and guest.

"So, the old Radio Demon is back in town." host Vox was saying to himself as guest.

"Why is he hanging around?" guest Vox asked, taking a sip from a mug that had 'fuck Alastor' written on the side.

"Al." Y/n warned, sensing her friends irritation growing.

"What does that mean for your family?" Host Vox asked before Alastor changed the channel again.

Vox was on the screen again, before a bright red curtain.

"Well, handily, I've got good news." he was saying theatrically, "He's a loser, a fossil, and I don't mean to sound hostel-"

Alastor changed the channel again. This time to one of Vox's mega church broadcasts. Vox stood in the center of the screen wearing a pope's hat with an inverted cross on it.

"But the demon is a coward!" he announced, his words matching the previous channels sentiments perfectly.

"Jesus, V." Y/n asked, eyes wide, "How many channels are you running this on?"

"You can take that as gospel. Pulling my viewers? Impossible. I'm visual, he's barely audible."

"Y/n." Alastor hummed, his eyes still fixed on the screen.

"Yeah?"

"You wont mind if I handle this quickly. We can have our little chat after, I promise. It wont take more than a moment."

"I don't know, Al..." Y/n sighed, crossing her arms and tapping her foot slightly, "This isn't good for you, letting him get under your skin like this."

Alastor changed the channel again. A cooking show appeared and Vox was standing before the oven, singing along to the music playing in the background.

"But he should've stayed away! While he hid in radio, we pivoted to video!"

Vox on screen turned to the oven as he sang, opening it and pulling out a deer's head on a plate. Y/n bristled at the site, her horns growing just the tiniest bit longer, her teeth just the smallest bit sharper.

"And now his medium is getting bloody rare!"

"Al?" Y/n asked sharply.

"Yes, darling?"

"I lied." Y/n turned to face him, "He took this shit musical. Rip him a new one."

"Oh!" Millie exclaimed, excitedly grabbing onto Moxxie's arm, "We're gonna get a show!"

Alastor's grin widened at Y/n's words, if that was even possible. He stuck his hand out to the side, his microphone materializing in his grasp.

"Lucky for me, I've got the best voice this side of the divide on my side." he noted, shooting Y/n a look.

Her eyes flashed red.

"You flatter me."

Alastor brought his microphone to his mouth, suddenly exceedingly calm. The imps present in the room watched in shock as his ears flattened along his head.

"Salutations, good to be back on the air!" he announced into the device, "Yes I know it's been a while since someone with style treated hell to a broadcast. Sinners rejoice!"

Vox's brow furrowed on the TV screen as he inched up close to the camera.

"What a dated voice." Vox shot back, clearly listening to Alastor's broadcast on the set of his cooking show.

"Instead of a clout chasing, mediocre, video podcast." Alastor continued, not showing any sign he had noticed the TV demon's insult, "Is Vox insecure, pursuing allure? Flitting between this fad and that, is nothing working?"

"Ignore his chirping!" Vox commanded from the TV.

Y/n laughed and, turning to face Alastor, realized the man held a hand out to her. With a smile, she took it and he spun her into his arms as he spoke. The music echoed through the office as Alastor raised the volume on the TV once again.

"Every day he's got a new format."

Alastor spun Y/n back out again as the pair began dancing.

"You're looking at the future!" Vox yelled back, "He's the shit that comes before that!"

As Alastor spun Y/n back into his arms, she laid one of her hands on top of his holding the microphone and pulled it closer to her face.

"Is Vox as strong as he purports, or is it based on his support?" she sang in a clear voice, Blitzo, Millie, and Moxxie's eyes widening with recognition at the sound, "He'd be powerless without the other Vees."

"That's true!" Alastor noted, pulling the microphone back to himself as Y/n let go of his hand and he spun her back out again.

"It can't be..." Moxxie muttered under his breath.

"Holy shit!" Millie cut him off, excitement creeping into her voice, "There's no way, Y/n is the guest star?"

"The fuck are you two talking about?" Blitzo asked, turning to Millie and Moxxie as they watched the couple continue to dance.

"Well, Sir," Moxxie began, fiddling with the cuffs of his jacket, "back before the Radio Demon went missing, he used to bring guests onto the show on occasion. There was one guest he never named during his broadcasts however. She mostly just sang songs and chatted with him but, she sounded an awful lot like Y/n did just now."

"You don't say." Blitzo hummed, his arms crossed as he turned back to Y/n and Alastor, "So much for little miss 'oh, my life has been so boring. You'd probably just fall asleep if I started talking about it!' She is so gonna get it later."

Alastor let go of Y/n's hand and leaned into the microphone, beginning to sing as well, using the music emanating from the TV as a base.

"And here's the sugar on the cream: he asked me to join his team!"

"Hold on!" Vox yelled.

"I said no and now he's pissy, that's the tea!" Alastor finished, ignoring the demon once again.

"You old timey prick!" Vox exclaimed, his face glitching slightly as Y/n wandered back over to Alastor.

She leaned an elbow on his shoulder, tilting her head to the side in amusement as they watched Vox struggle.

"I'll show you suffering!"

"Aww, the TV is buffering." Y/n said, leaning into the microphone, her voice dripping with sickly sweet pity.

"I'll destroy yoo-o-u-u" Vox exclaimed as his technical difficulties seemed to grow worse.

Alastor and Y/n exchanged a wicked pair of smiles as the TV flickered out. Shadows crept from the edges of the room, encircling their feet. Alastor held an arm out to Y/n once again which she took with a smile. In a flash of darkness, they were gone.

"What the fuck was that?" Loona asked, stalking into the room.

----

Next Part -> Chapter Five -- The Conversation