#destroying a tenth of something'

[trenchcrows]

Idk how much... it's interesting to other people but I think about it sometimes

People often misuse the term "vicera" in relation to injury it's actually really fascinating personally

Like it's actually a plural the singular version of the word is "viscus"

Now both of those words very specificly only refer to internal organs limbs of any kind inherently cant be vicera as they are not organs on top of that the brain also doesn't count vicera is specificly talking about the contents of the thoracic cavity (everything in your rib cage) and your abdominal (otherwise known as central) cavity (think everything connected to your digestive track)

If you want to be exactly right with your wording vicera is specificly about the small and large intestine but could also extend to the whole internal workings of your torso if you wanna have a little fun with it

(And idk WHY bones don't count even though they're DEFINITELY organs please don't ask me I refuse to talk to doctors to ask)

Yet another case where a common use of a word is off whyyyyy whyyyyy......

Thank you for the information Adam I will be thinking about it lots o7

[upsidedownmvnson]

tell me you love me | steve harrington

warnings: fluff (warning lol) friends to lovers, idiots to lovers,

a/n: i actually really loved this <3 i hope you do too

tell me you love me vol 2

Steve Harrington had already tried twice in his life to confess his love for you.

The first time, you two were in the tenth grade and you had just accepted stupid Jack Warren's invitation to prom, so Steve didn't bother. That was back when he was settling into popularity anyway, so he got over it pretty quickly. He was dating Cathy Bartlett the next week.

The second time, Robin had made him pinky promise not to date you. She had held him down, sat on his back and twisted his arm until he pinky swore that he wouldn't do anything to destroy the delicate ecosystem of the friend group. There was already one awkward ex-situation in there.

But Robin was right, you were not like the girls he normally dated. If things went wrong he wouldn't be able to just sweep it under the rug, it could have painful ramifications for all his friends. Although... he didn't actually think it would go that bad. Steve would find his mind wandering on the idea often. He pictured the two of you in the kitchen, side by side cooking dinner and talking about your day. When he thought of you, it felt like home. It felt like somewhere he could build a house and live forever.

If he could only get the words out, he'd realize how quickly you'd accept him. He'd realize he wasn't the only one of you that was stupid in love.

You had been in love with Steve since you could remember. But never once thought he'd shared your interest, not with all the girls around him all the time. The way he shines in their attention and basks in their praise, it's enough to make you sure he's happy with how it is. Or he probably wouldn't have told you all about his date with Debbie Dabbenthorn, right?

Tonight, you, Nancy and Robin were at a party. Something Steve desperately tried to make not happen. But he was working, so there was no one to stop you girls from coaxing each other into drink after drink, which you always did. The three of you always drank too much, and Steve always got stuck trying to coral you and Robin into his car.

At the party, Nancy was handing you another red cup filled to the brim, sloshing over the side and coating your fingers. You hadn't noticed.

"I love when we ditch the boys," Nancy said, smiling as she sipped out of her own solo cup. "It's so fun!"

"Same," Robin said, slinging her arm around Nancy's shoulers, making the two of them sway and laugh. They caught their balance and cheered drinks. "Hey, help me find the bathroom!"

It wasn't hard to find, but it was hard for all three of you to get there without knocking into each other, but it didn't matter. The three of you giggled the whole way, laughing too hard over barely anything. Enjoying the simple joy of being with your friends on a party.

The line for the bathroom was short, only a few people deep. Nancy was grilling Robin on her love life while Robin evaded every question with a vague answer, soon, she turned it onto you, focusing Nancy on the other singler girl in the group.

"Do you not think anyone is cute at least?" Nancy said, not quite believing you when you say you didn't have a crush on anyone at the moment. You shrugged, trying to avoid admitting that it was her ex boyfriend that really turned your head. Robin chuckled, and slid into the bathroom.

You started sipping your drink when Nancy asked, "Not even Steve?" and you nearly choked, but you coughed once and composed yourself. You stared at her, confused as to why she would bring him up.

"You don't have to say anything," she said, and you looked into your cup, noting that you'd need a replacement after this trip. "But it would be okay with me."

Robin opened the bathroom door again, reassembling the trio be throwing her arms around both of your shoulders. "New drinks!" she cheered, steering you all in the direction of the kitchen.

"Drink up," Nancy giggled, "and then let's dance!"

So that's what you did, you guys drank and danced and had a great time. Until Jonathan came to pick up Nancy. That's when you saw that it was after nine, so Steve should've been on the way to come collect you and Robin from your drunken outing. You told Robin again how nice it was for Steve to come get you.

"But c'mon, you love him right?" Robin asked, laughing at your shock.

"I do not love him," you argued, but you did. Robin shrugged, but didn't look convinced. "He just is beautiful, that's all."

"Nah," she said, brushing off the idea with a wave of her hand. "You just love him."

"Do not," you mumbled. But Robin already leaned the other way when Vicki walked up to talk to her. You leaned further into the couch, the ugly thing was very comfortable. Steve should be there any minute.

"Hey," Robin whispered, "Vicki invited me to go with her friends to the lake... Are you gunna be okay here? You're not too drunk are you? Because if you think you can't stay awake, I'll stay of course..."

"Robin, go! I'll be fine for like two minutes..." you slurred, you were pretty drunk but Steve really was going to be there any second.

"Okay!" she didn't have to be told twice before she was scrambling after Vicki in her love-drunk haze. Or maybe just regular drunk, but Robin was feeling giddy anyway.

Steve was running behind because he lost the address that Robin had given him. She'd just ripped off a corner of a piece of paper, and Steve had lost it at some point in his shift. When he finally found the place he was thirty minutes behind.

When he got inside you were curled up on the couch alone, snoozing while some couple made out next to you in the spot Robin had vacated. He smiled when he saw you, and took a knee next to you, trying to wake you up nicely. He stroked your cheek, and tucked some hair behind ear, making you stir softly in your slumber.

"Time to get up," Steve said, "Where's Robin?"

"Went with Vicki," you whispered, rubbing your eyes, smudging whatever makeup wasn't already ruined from the dancing.

"Well, how mean of her to leave you here all alone," he said, running his thumb along your cheek again. "Can't trust you guys alone now though, she did leave you to fall asleep at a house party. That's like really bad, I'm mad at her."

You made a soft noise in response, his stern voice was, not so stern. He smiled at you, and you couldn't help but notice how beautiful he was. Leaning close to you, rubbing your cheek, hair falling perfectly on his forehead and you just wanted to reach up and brush it away like he did. But your hands were wedged under your head, and you were afraid that if you stirred even an inch, he would leave, and this moment would be over.

"Guess you'll just have to make sure you come with us next time," you whispered, eyes bloodshot and glossy from all the alcohol. He thought you were the most beautiful girl in the room. The party was still raging around him, and he easily could've found a place within the girls, but he was content in this moment with you. Your eyes started feeling heavy, and you couldn't stop them from constantly fluttering shut.

“C'mon let me help you up babe,” Steve said, aiding your drunk figure. The nickname made your stomach flip. You were dead weight, giggling as he took care of you and grabbed your things and still found the patience to be kind to you, musing like he was interested in all your drunk babble.

“You're just so pretty, Stevie, it's stupid,” you cooed, finding a place beside him with his arms around you for balance as he lead you, slowly, to his car.

"D-Don't say that stuff," Steve said, voice cracking at the beginning. You were drunk, and it was dark, but you still noticed the blush on Steve's cheeks, and you smiled.

He opened the door for you, and you commented, "so romantic," while holding your hand over your heart, and Steve's heart raced. He went around the trunk of his car to get another second of fresh air, if you saw him in the light you were sure to see the heat he felt in his neck and cheeks. You were flirting with him, and he couldn't contain his excitement every time you complimented him, looking up at him with those beautiful eyes.

The entire trip was like that. From the moment he was in the car you were just a loose cannon of compliments and praises. This combination of him sober and you drunk has never happened while alone before. Were you this flirty with him when he was drunk too?

The answer was yes. The real reason Nancy knew you really wanted Steve was because whenever you two are drunk and together you look like you're in love... because you are. Holding hands, head on shoulder, legs across laps, big bright smiles that made everyone think you were truly, madly, deeply in love. Everything that's just a little too friendly, but never crossing that silly little line that kept you both under the umbrella of just friends.

You were a delight in his passenger seat. He only wished you spoke like this when you were sober, because then maybe he'd know for sure you love him too.

"Hey Steve?" you asked, voice coming out as almost a purr in your sleepy state. Steve's heart melted. "Can I hold your hand?"

"Yeah," he answered, clearing his throat and moving his hand over to your lap, intertwining your fingers. Your hands were cold to the touch, but all you felt was the comforting warmth of him. You were both smiling, goofy grins to match the butterflies in your stomach. "You can hold my hand whenever you like."

You made another happy hum, but said nothing else. The ride was short. No words exchanged, just the quiet songs on the radio, turned low to let you drift off in the passenger seat.

When you got to his house, he parked the car, looking at you. He didn't want to wake you. And he didn't want to let go of your hand. Maybe he should just stay in the car all night.

Of course he didn't do that. Steve weaseled his way out of your grip, not bothering to hide how pleased he was that you whined at the loss of his touch. he helped you out of the car, encouraging you to climb on his back for "an express ride to the VIP bathroom," and he delivered, carrying you, all dead weight and giggling, to the bathroom where he left you to clean up. You put on the clothes he delivered, Plaid pajama pants and a big grey shirt. Well, you put the shirt on, the pajama pants were thrown into the tub, because you couldn't be forced to wear pants.

"Steeeeeve," you slurred, leaving the bathroom, giggling and bumping into the doorframe.

Steve was standing in the doorway to his room, wearing only blue plaid pj pants. His torso on glorious display, while he stood frozen at the sight of you. You stretched your arms over your head, and the shirt rose, exposing your panties to him. He nearly choked looking at you.

"Can I sleep in your room?" you asked, smiling at the effect you had on him. "Look how cute I am," you said, turning around and lifting the shirt while bending over slightly, giving him a perfect view of your ass, with the panties laying deliciously over your cheeks.

"Jesus," he muttered, unable to look away but trying to force himself to. He shouldn't be sneaking a peak while you were this drunk, but in his defence you were the one showing him. "Come to bed, just put your shirt down."

"It's your shirt," you teased, obeying him anyway. You danced behind him into the room, and crawled into bed. It smelled so good, it smelled like him. You could've stayed by Steve's side under these blankets forever.

You lay facing Steve, in his overly big, overly comfortable bed, too tired and drunk to keep your eyes open, but you still try. Steve smiles at your determination to stay awake, he watches your eyes blink quickly, trying to shake the sleep away.

You want to reach over and intertwine your hands, you don’t. He wants to reach out and brush the hair off your forehead and behind your ear, he doesn’t.

“Are we in love, Steve?”

The sharpness of your question cuts him, wounding him in a way he didn’t know was possible. He wanted to speak, but there were no words. No charismatic come back, and no way to avoid the lingering question in the air. Steve holds his tears back. He really did love you.

When your eyes peak open, he’s nodding. His eyes filled with tears that he refuses to let you see, but you see. "Yeah, I think so."

“Why is it so sad?”

“Because we're best friends," he said, "and I can't lose you."

"Tell me you love me," you whispered, silly mood replaced with a tight feeling in your throat, like you were going to cry. But you held it back.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I love you too."

He wanted to cry. He wanted to kiss you. But instead, he just sighed, and found your hand under the sheets, and held it tightly. He was frozen. This was his dream come true, so why did it feel like a nightmare? Like you were right there, but he couldn't have you. Like he was doomed to stay in love with you, and never actually get to be with you.

“I will still love you in the morning whether I say it or not, Stevie.” Your eyes finally started winning the battle, and they stayed closed more than they stayed open, too heavy too fight.

"I know babe," he said, watching as you breathing changed and your eyes didn't open again. "I will too."

[skylersprompts]

DC x DP Prompt *32*

This was the ninth- no.... tenths loop. He is eating his breakfast and he is dizzy again. Because Mom drugged his oatmeal, because Mom and Dad knew! Danny stood up from his chair and tried to leave the kitchen. (He knew it wouldn't work, it never worked) His eyes grew heavy and a few steps later he hit the ground.

He wakes up to the same gruesome picture as in the last nine loops. But Danny doesn't beg anymore. Or says anything. It hurts, but it's nothing he hasn't had felt before. It would only take them a week before they would destroy his core again and then everything would start anew. Maybe he could think of something better for next time.

.

.

.

The last feeling he remembered was an all encompassing pain, as his Dad crushed his core. But he was at the breakfast table again, already feeling groggy. But maybe this time he could get help? He knew that he could fight the drugs for around ten minutes, as long as he didn't stand up.

So instead he got his phone out of his pocket. He knew that neither his sisters, nor his friends would be fast enough, he already tried them, but maybe someone else could be fast enough.

He opened Twitter and started to write a new post, ignoring his atrocious spelling in favor of getting as many information out as possible.

@theoneandonlyflash I'm kinda stuck in a time looop and my parents will koll me in about a werk they druged me so I'll be in they lab in a fee minotes. Pleaase helpp and fins me iin Amyt Park, Illnois. My name iss Dannyy Fentin

He was able to press send, before his vision would become to spotty. Now he just needed to hope that the fastest man alive would be able to help him. Danny's head fell on the table.

.

.

.

It was the eleventh time he woke up to the same scene and this time he couldn't do anything against his tears. He would die again... and again and again...

Danny's spiraling thought were interrupted by the basement door, that had hit the wall. This was new!

[muletia]

These obsessed Orian and Optimus fics have got me thinking about what if Megatron was just as obsessed with reader as Optimus, and they have a tug of war sort of battle between them where one side snatches you for their leader back and forth.

It has gotten to the point where you couldn’t even sleep in your own home anymore without some decepticon destroying your ceiling in order to take you away to their leader like a toy.

Megatron would definitely see reader as a tool to further his goals as well as leverage to use against Optimus. He laughed out loud when he heard about his nemesis having feelings for a puny human. If Megatron could punch his past self for daring to think so lowly of you, he would do it without a second thought. He is so much worse than Optimus because he doesn’t allow you to leave him sight even when you plead that you have to go to work.

Work? What work? You don’t need to work anymore now that you’re his queen. Don’t be ridiculous.

Oh, but Optimus… He. Is. Pissed. He would never rest until you were back in his servo safe and sound. He would quite literally crash out as soon as he found out Megatron took his beloved.

I love having two obsessed bots fight over me <3

YOU ARE SO BIG BRAINED OMG, these ideas are so tasty

okay, this scenario could unfold in several ways, but i see a huge comedic potential here. at first, of course, there's nothing funny about it at all, because being kidnapped by the leader of the decepticons himself to be used as a bargaining chip is far from humorous. but! let's say that despite the hopelessness of your situation, you dare to resist, to fight back, because you know that megatron doesn’t have the guts to hurt you. he knows you’re too important to optimus, and killing you gains him nothing. the problem is that by being defiant, you end up sealing your fate because megatron starts to take an interest in you. at first, he’s just fascinated by you, maybe even slightly amused. but this unimportant infatuation quickly turns into something more, something that terrifies megatron himself. it’s stronger than him, more powerful, more aggressive, and more relentless. suddenly, you’re no longer a bargaining chip—you’ve been promoted to a much worse position. you’ve become his partner, his second-in-command, his queen. someone who suddenly holds immense significance for him. and that is absolutely terrifying.

megatron doesn’t get to enjoy your company for long, though, because you’re quickly rescued by the autobots. optimus is, of course, ecstatic that the mission was a success and that you’re finally safe, but for a few days, you’ll have to kiss your social life and work goodbye, as optimus will insist on you being under constant supervision at the base. maybe during this time, the two of you grow closer despite the circumstances of your house arrest? and despite the paranoia wreaking havoc in optimus's processor, part of him is content with having you constantly in sight and that your relationship has warmed even more.

the same can’t be said for megatron, who is, to put it mildly, tweaking out. is he just supposed to let you go after he’s had a taste of you? after he’s grown to enjoy your company and having you always within reach? ha! he’s not letting go that easily. a few days after you return to your normal life, a random vehicon gets the order to bring you back to nemesis, straight into his master’s hands. megatron is satisfied—you, not so much—and optimus is losing his mind. this time, however, the rescue mission doesn’t go as smoothly. the leader of the decepticons personally keeps an eye on you, and you’re constantly watched by soundwave. but let’s say the autobots manage to rescue you again... until you’re kidnapped once more.

and here’s where the comedic aspect kicks in. at some point, your fear for your life shifts to irritation. by the tenth time you land in the servos of the great leader of the decepticons, whose most sinister plans apparently involve just keeping you here against your will and occasionally you patting him on the helm, it’s honestly just exhausting. the most troublesome part is the lack of autonomy—otherwise, you’re pretty much chilling as long as you don’t tease or provoke him. although, even that gets boring after a while. you just want to live a normal life... you never asked to be sandwiched between the boobs of two leaders who do nothing but bark at each other...

[lua-magic]

North Node in Various houses and your Soul Desires.

North Node in First House:

There is something unique about your personality and your body. You always love to dress differently like colour your hairs really bright or wear bright coloured clothes. You don’t fit in the crowd. It could also give some rare kind of disese, weight gain or you could suffer from frequent body disease.

North Node in Second House:

 North is exalted here. You are lucky in terms of finances and family wealth. You love spicy foods. There is something unique about the way you speak, whatever, you speak becomes true but you also share love and hate relationship with your family. Your family has frequent fights and you often find yourself cursing and abusing them.

North Node in Third House:

North Node is exalted here. You are free spirited and extremely courageous and risk taker. You might be having frequent fights with your siblings or neighbour. You might develop anger issues, you playful and prankster as well.

North Node in Fourth House:

You have karmic relationship with your family and mother. There is something unique about the place you live. It could creepy, haunted or even unevenly big. You could develop mental issues like anxiety, depression and OCD.

Your mother could also suffer some kind of mental health issues. This combination could sometimes gets you huge mansion or create desire to live in big house.

North Node in Fifth house:

This combination could inflate your ego, sometimes makes you lustful angry and corrupt. Not good combination for your children as you could have lot of expectations from them. It could make you fame, name and position hungry.

North Node in sixth House:

North Node is exalted here. It gives you fighting spirit; you don’t leave your enemy and fight with them till you destroy them. This combination could give you lots of enemy and court cases as well as debt, but you don’t give up easily and love challenges.

North Node in seventh House:

Your relationships and partnerships are mostly karmic, you experience lot of heart breaks. You are extremely frank and upfront about your relationship and with your partner. This combination also gives you multiple partner and affairs.

You easily attract opposite sex and get attracted to them as well easily. You are romantic and have high sexual energy.

North Node in eight House:                    

You have good intuition and deep interest in occult and witchcrafts. There are chances either you put some kind or hex or spell on someone or suffer from evil eye.

You have high sex drive or desire, and good premonition ability.

There are chances you could easily attract spirits towards you and store lot of emotions inside which could sometimes block your mind and visions.

North Node in Ninth house:

You go on short travel lot, not a good combination for your father as his health or work could suffer.

You may be attracted towards two to three religions at the same time; you usually don’t get right or correct advice and has bitter relationship with your teachers.

You might leave your religion and embrace some other religion or become atheist. There are chances you marry outside your religion or country.

You’re spiritual but not religious.

North Node in Tenth House:

North Node is exalted here.

It makes your multitalented and multi tasker, but you have problem with finishing your tasks. You sometimes take more on your plate then you can handle.

You will have problem with your bosses and jobs. You love to try different projects and try different things.

North Node in Eleventh House:

North Node is exalted here:

It gives a lot of desires and gains as well. You should be careful with your friends and family as they might try to spoil your name and reputation and could be jealous of your success as well.

North Node in twelfth house:

It will give foreign travel, foreign land settlement, and gives you ability to astral travel. You have good intuition and sometimes, could sense or see the negative events in your life before it occurs. This combination either will make you lazy or give you disturbed sleep.

You have wild sexual fantasies and high desires to reach on top or for expansion.

You like to store things and don’t give them easily to others. You have problem with letting go your emotions easily.

You hold on things and people and has karmic relationships with your spouse and family.

You get Déjà and lucid dreams.

You are more spiritual then religious. You attract spirit and other worldly beings easily towards you. You have interest in conspiracy theories and occult.

Please support me on.

[eskawrites]

I feel like I’m seeing another uptick of people talking about using AI for fics/writing in general and I know some of it’s in a mostly unserious way but I still just wanna say

1) Generative AIs are literally built on the concept of mosaic plagiarism. You are, by definition, stealing from the work of countless writers on the internet

2) AI writing is not writing, it offers zero value beyond in-the-moment entertainment. If you want that satisfaction of doing something creative you have to actually, you know, do something creative. If you want the instant gratification of a story go read/watch/play something that was made by actual artists

3) even if you have no qualms about the plagiarism and deterioration of human skill and creativity, AI is a major threat to the environment and every time you use it you’re contributing to a massive waste of energy and resources

4) using AI just for ideas or just for inspiration or just to rewrite a sentence or just to find a different word is still using AI and it is still harming the environment and it is still stealing from others. There are other tools to use. The internet is full of free resources created by actual writers that can help you find that cool word you’re looking for or show you different ways to approach style and voice. And if you’re looking for inspiration there are literally endless amounts of prompts and ideas that are only a google search away

4a) this is also true for people who are only using AI as a joke. It’s still harmful and you are helping the problem continue by using it, training it, and normalizing it

5) art is valuable because it is created by humans. Making something worthwhile isn’t about creating a masterpiece, it’s about putting part of yourself—whether that part is passionate or heartbroken or angry or inspired or silly or reverent or filled with brainworms—into the world. And even if you are the worst writer/artist/musician who has ever walked the earth (and trust me, you aren’t), anything you create on your own still has an impact. You are changing the world! You are putting something out there that leaves an impression on you and anyone who comes across it! But when you use AI for that, you haven’t made anything. You’ve just rearranged someone else’s work and dropped it on the ground. And by the time you make your third work, or your tenth, or your hundredth, you will not have grown or learned or changed or experienced any of the actual meaning and beauty of creativity. And if you don’t want any of those things, that’s fine! But that means being a writer or an artist or whatever is not for you, and you shouldn’t go around cosplaying as one with a computer algorithm that is destroying the planet, stealing from hard-working artists, eliminating jobs, and contributing to mass misinformation and the deterioration of reading comprehension

[redtsundere-writes]

Part 18: Initiative

King!SukunaRyomen x Servant!FemReader

Summary: You used to be just another servant among the army of humans operating under the command of the terrible king, Sukuna Ryomen. An ordinary human who only knows how to wash, clean and cook. Until one day, he notices something in you that you hadn't seen before.

Tags: MDNI. +18. Murder. Blood. Cannibalism. Sukuna Ryomen Is The Warning Itself. Nudity. Sexual Display. Vaginal. Fingering. Sometimes fluff, sometimes angst. Beta read.

Word Count: 5342 words.

Beginning. | ← Previous | Next →

“His Majesty, King Toji Zen’in and Her Highness, Queen Nozomi Zen’in, are pleased to extend their most distinguished invitation to the Grand Royal Anniversary Ball in commemoration of the 500th anniversary of the founding of the Zen’in Kingdom.

On a splendors night beneath the stars, nobles, courtiers, and dignitaries from all lands are invited to join this majestic celebration taking place at the Zen’in Castle, where music, dance, and the brilliance of magic will illuminate the evening on the tenth day of the fifth month, year 700.

With the highest respect and gratitude,

King Toji Zen’in

Queen Nozomi Zen’in

May your path be guided by justice and honor.”

“A ball?!” You announced excitedly as you skipped in place.

It’s been years since you attended one. You missed the balls, but not for the dancing itself. You enjoyed listening to live musicians, especially pianists. The last time you went to one with your mother and sisters, it didn't go so well. Your mother scolded you on the way home for not dancing with anyone even though you had spent the last two weeks practicing choreography. You were never very good at talking to men like Yorozu was, but now you can enjoy one without the pressure of courting a rich man who will save you from misery.

"Every year it's the same," Uraume commented with annoyance, announcing her presence on the parade ground. "Welcome, Commander Mahito," they bowed respectfully to your savior.

"What's up?" He greeted them back with a red eye from tearing up so much.

"The king was invited to a ball! Sounds like fun!" You told Uraume showing him the invitation.

“If I were you, I wouldn’t be so excited,” Uraume replied, taking the invitation to put it back in its respective envelope. “The king has rejected every invitation he has received from the Zen’in in the last 5 years.”

Sukuna Ryomen, being a king who believes himself superior to everyone, never bothered to attend the royal events he was invited to. He would hate to waste his time on unimportant events like everyone else. He would rather starve to death than attend a stupid ball. Uraume has seen the king destroy letters from the sorcerer kingdoms just by knowing their content for centuries. They knew the king better than anyone else.

“It’s probably because the king doesn’t know how much fun they are,” you argued.

“It seems like you’re the one who wants to go,” Uraume said.

“Obviously I want to go. Besides, getting out of the castle would be great,” you explained with obviousness. “Wearing a pretty dress, dancing all night, watching and listening to the orchestra…” You explained, delighted at the idea of ​​living the experience again.

“Good luck, the king would never agree,” Uraume declared confidently.

Over the years, as the king’s right hand, Uraume has been the one in charge of receiving the packages, especially when it comes from enemy kingdoms. They are the first in line to defend the honor of the great kingdom of Sukuna and it is always the same. A strong sorcerer arrives to kill as many curses as possible, he fights against them so they don’t enter the castle, they surrender so they don’t waste any more time on a one-man mission, and they leave the letter to complete the mission. Uraume has had to go through that tedious process hundreds of times only for the king to destroy letters almost immediately. 

“I would at least like to try to convince him,” you commented determinedly.

“Oh, someone is sure,” Mahito teased, wrapping his arm around your shoulders in a friendly way.

“You won't be able to do it. I've known the king for over 500 years, he'll never go to a ball or he'll allow you to,” Uraume explained calmly.

A light bulb went off above your head. You had an idea to distract yourself from your daily chores. Something you used to do with your sisters to resolve any conflict.

“What if we bet on it?” You proposed with a playful smile.

Uraume raised an eyebrow. Were you so sure you could convince them that you could bet it? It was a gigantic stupidity, they didn't have to lower himself to your silly games. Uraume was sure they would win anyway, but if he was so sure, why not bet it? It would be the easiest prize they have ever gotten in their life. 

“What do you want to bet?” Uraume asked you curiously.

“If the king agrees to go to the ball…” You thought for a second about what prize you wanted. You snapped your fingers when you got it. “I want Mrs. Inoue to become my lady-in-waiting.”

You really hated looking for Mrs. Inoue and interrupting her daily servant duties to talk to her for five minutes. If she became your lady-in-waiting, you could talk to her whenever you wanted and it would reduce her manual work considerably. Instead of washing dishes, sweeping for hours, and spending the whole morning among the crops, she could help you study, get ready for the day, and be at your training. It was the best reward you could ask for, and Uraume, being in charge of all the servants, could give it to you.

“Fine, but if I win, you will have to prepare dinner for the king for a month,” Uraume proposed their own reward.

Your smile immediately fell. Preparing dinner for the king meant having to maneuver humans as if they were fish. The mere thought of having to cut a human into different pieces and remove the bones from someone of your race made your stomach turn. This game was no longer as fun as you thought it would be.

“Scared?” Uraume asked you with a smile full of confidence.

“Uuuuh, they said your mom is fat,” Mahito whispered to you to tease you even more.

Were you really going to let them mess with you? Ever since you killed your sister, you have learned a valuable lesson. You weren't going to let anyone make fun of you, no matter how close or strange they were. You were a brand-new person and no one would mess with you anymore. Not Yorozu, not Naoya, not anyone else. You were going to win this bet. For you and for Mrs. Inoue.

“No,” you extended your hand. “Deal,” you smiled at them kindly.

Uraume relaxed his face, making it monotonous again. They shook hands. They were sure you were going to fail. There was no way the king would agree to something like that. You couldn’t get everything you wanted just because you were his favorite, but it would be fun to see you lose. They might not know you, but they did know the king.

“Follow me. The king is waiting for you,” Uraume showed them the way.

Back at the office, Sukuna and Kenjaku had seen the entire fight with Naoya. Sukuna knew Mahito was about to arrive, so he didn’t care much about leaving you alone for a moment with the stowaway, plus he wanted to see you in action in the middle of an invasion. It was a relief to see you keep your composure and act accordingly. He expected nothing less from you. On the other hand, Kenjaku was more interested in your skills with the bow. You were a good archer, but he didn't think you could hit a target moving so fast. You definitely had a technique, now it was time to find out what it was.

"My king, Commander Mahito has arrived," Uraume introduced the guest, letting him into the large office.

"Good day, my great king." Mahito bowed to him respectfully.

"Welcome to the Kingdom of Sukuna," Kenjaku greeted him.

"Kenny!" Mahito ran to hug him. "Long time no see!"

"Likewise," Kenjaku hugged him back.

Sukuna watched you intently. You had long since gotten used to that suffocating feeling. He studied you from head to toe, memorizing your every move. From your posture to the gestures on your face, Sukuna learned more about you day by day. You just smiled at him to cut the tension between you.

“Did Naoya bring an invitation again?” Sukuna asked Uraume as soon as she handed him the envelope.

“That’s right.”

This was the perfect time to try to convince the king to go to the ball. You went over in your mind all the advice Kenjaku had given you about debate, that would be your greatest weapon in this intellectual battle. You had to do your best to beat him.

“Once you understand the other's point of view, it is easier to defend your own position more successfully, especially because you avoid misunderstandings and arguing about aspects that the other side has not really said,” you quoted your teacher in your mind.

First, you had to understand why Sukuna did not want to go to the ball. Most likely it was his racial hatred of humans. Balls are full of them, how could you convince him to go to a place full of the race he hates the most? Sukuna took the envelope, surely, to destroy it. You had to speak now to avoid it.

“It's an invitation to a ball,” you told him, approaching his desk to get his attention.

“I know, it’s been the same for 5 years now,” Sukuna replied.

“Dances are so much fun,” you came up with an empirical comment.

“They’re just a waste of time,” Sukuna replied. “You should turn the tables on him.”

“Not if he uses it to his advantage.” You threw the bait.

Everyone looked at you intrigued. Kenjaku quickly noticed what you were doing, he was about to watch your first live debate. He felt like a mother when watching her chick hatch. Sukuna relaxed in his seat, you behaved like in the chess game you had months ago. It didn’t take long for him to realize that you wanted to go to that ball. After all, you were a girl. Going to a royal ball promised to be a fairy tale night that every young girl your age dreams of. 

“What kind of benefit would I get from spending a night with stupid dancing rats?” Sukuna inquired, curious to know your next move. “He’s already down,” you thought confidently.

“Doesn’t he know that old saying? ‘Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer,’” you explained. “If he goes to the Zen’in ball, it would be a chance to see the castle, its inhabitants, and its interior.” You made a good argument, but the king was still not convinced.

“What if it’s a trap?” Sukuna was about to eat one of your pieces.

“The same trap for five years in a row?” You moved your piece back just in time.

Kenjaku was grinning from ear to ear as he watched the conversation. This had been the actual fruit of his teachings. His first harvest had been a small, tasteless orange. If he kept putting in fertilizer, next year’s harvest would be bigger and juicier. There were many things you could improve on, but this was an incredible start. You were taking on the king on his own board, a difficult thing to do.

“Why not? Sometimes sorcerers are so stupid.” Sukuna sat back in his seat to become serious.

“If it really was a trap, why wait?” You asked. “I would take advantage of any important holiday to send him an invitation, if it was a trap.”

“Because the Zen'in Kingdom's anniversary ball is the only one where all the kings, the strongest sorcerers in the world, gather together,” Sukuna explained, eating one of your bishops. “Why would I go to the ball when I can attack some other kingdom?,” Uraume smiled slightly as they realized that Sukuna cornered you with that argument.

“Then why hasn't he done it?,” you asked, feigning innocence.

His red eyes widened as he realized. Sukuna had made a mistake in his argument and you noticing it only hurt his ego more. You sacrificed one of your bishops to eat his queen in one bite. The king had accepted that he knew that the ball wasn't a trap. If it were, he would have conquered some of the largest sorcerer kingdoms many years ago while their kings and troops were waiting for him in the wrong place.

“I really think it's a ball,” you continued. “A perfect opportunity to meet all your rivals in one visit.” Checkmate.

Sukuna looked at you, this time, admiring your bravery in facing him so directly. Even though it was your chance to be smiling from cheek to cheek for having won the argument, there didn't seem to be any malice behind your actions. You were just a girl who liked balls and you really wanted to go for fun. You hadn't done it to prove a point. Uraume looked at him in surprise, they couldn't believe his king was contemplating the idea of ​​going to a human event, leave that, a sorcerer's event.

"Fine, we'll go to the Zen'in ball." Sukuna gave you the win. Uraume's mouth dropped to the floor. This couldn't be happening.

"Thank you, my king!" You squealed in joy. You walked around his desk to throw yourself at him and hug him by the neck. "You'll see that you won't regret it!"

The colors rose to the king's face as soon as you kissed his cheek. Your warm embrace pressed him to your body as you invaded his face with loud kisses of gratitude. Each kiss tickled his body with emotion. You transmitted to him that warmth that characterized you. He stood frozen like a monument, his body short-circuited as he couldn't understand why you were acting so loving towards him. Receiving that kind of affection wasn't in his system. He never thought you would do something like that of your own free will.

"I'm leaving, I'll go pick out the dress I'll wear," you said. You walked away from him, leaving him wanting more, to leave the office and look for Mrs. Inoue.

Sukuna and Uraume still couldn't believe what had happened. "Is she really that happy to go to the ball?" he thought, caressing the cheek you just kissed him on. It was warm and a little wet. It was the first time he experienced something like that. "Did the king really let himself be convinced like that?!" Uraume was about to confront him, but the king spoke first.

“Uraume, take Commander Mahito to his room to rest from his journey,” Sukuna ordered, slowly coming out of his trance. He remembered that he was in front of very important people for his kingdom.

 “Yes, my king.” Uraume bowed to guide the guest to his new room. “It seems that I will have to face him later,” they thought.

“Thank you, my king. See you later,” Mahito said goodbye, following behind the servant.

Once the door closed, Sukuna dropped his face into his upper hands. His face was so hot that he could roast a piece of meat on his cheeks. His heart kept beating a mile a minute for every kiss you gave him. This was the reaction he hated you causing him. It confused him and distracted him from his plans.

“I have taught her well, haven’t I?” Kenjaku gloated over his star pupil.

“Too well.” Sukuna placed his face in one of his hands to look at him in annoyance, not because he had done what he asked, but because his ego had been crushed.

“Do you still think the dance is a trap?” Kenjaku asked him.

“Definitely,” Sukuna answered, trying to focus on the plans for the war he was planning to start. “But it’s not for a surprise attack. It would be too obvious if it was.”

“It’s complicated because I agree with you and the young lady.” Most likely they are looking for information. “Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer,” Kenjaku commented.

“There is only one way to find out, but I am sure of one thing.” The king took the envelope with the invitation.

In addition to the wax seal with the Zen’in symbol, there was a stamp with a purple orchid. Orchids come in different colors and the meaning depends on this. Purple ones usually mean justice, prudence and wisdom. The Zen’in know perfectly well what they are doing.

“The Zen’in have already made their first move.”

You skipped through the halls happily and with a big smile on your face. You greeted all the servants, who saw you so happy in such a sad castle. You couldn’t believe that you had won a bet against Uraume and now he had saved Mrs. Inoue from her usual chores. You headed to the garden where you knew your best friend would be harvesting the crops. You found her crouching down picking carrots, pulling one by its leaves.

“Mrs. Inoue!” You greeted her as you ran over to her, being careful not to crush the other vegetables.

“What are you doing here? Did you hear the invasion alarm?” Mrs. Inoue asked you, surprised that you were with her and not sheltering somewhere safer.

“I heard it, Naoya Zen'in is a complete idiot,” you commented angrily, emphasizing that you stood up to him.

“You fought Naoya Zen'in?! That's dangerous!” The lady scolded you while spanking you as if you were a naughty child. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you? Is he as handsome as they say?” The lady bombarded you with questions, although she seemed more interested in the last one.

“Yes, no and yes,” you answered at the same speed. “But that's the least important,” you took the basket of carrots from her hands to hang it on your arm. “From now on you stop being a maid.”

“Excuse me?” She looked at you, puzzled.

“From today on, you will be my lady-in-waiting,” you told her, interlacing her arm as yours to return to the castle.

It was wonderful news. Unlike maids, ladies-in-waiting are not seen as domestic servants, so she would leave tedious tasks to spend the whole day with the young lady. Her new job would simply be to provide conversation and company, much less tiring than running around the castle.

“Does the king know about this?” The lady inquired, somewhat worried that this was too good to be true.

“It is not my duty to inform him. I won a bet against Uraume, let them tell him.”

Mrs. Inoue was flattered. She didn't know what you had done to achieve this, but she was sure that you had done it to protect her. You always cared about others, even if it ended up harming you. That meant that you considered her a close person and that you could trust her.

“You know? All my life I worked in the Sukuna mines, so I never got married or had children, much less grandchildren,” The misses commented as they walked through the hallways. “You are the closest thing to that,” she told you with a smile so as not to cry from the joy of having someone who cared about her.

“I will do anything for my family.” You responded with the same gesture, taking her hand to return to the castle.

Night fell on the kingdom of Sukuna, the best time to hunt humans. The curses prepared their fangs, claws, tentacles or any strange limb they had to stalk the human commune with caution. The small army of the commune deployed its night watch every evening. The men and the elders positioned themselves in their respective places with their sharp weapons to counterattack in the worst case that a curse decided to appear there. They could be weak, but never cowards.

The king walked from side to side in front of his fireplace, thinking about what war strategies he could implement for the Zen'in dance with their pros and cons. It was difficult to plan when he did not know with certainty what the Zen'in wanted from him, but he better be prepared for any possible scenario. His head was beginning to hurt from thinking so much about the uncertain future. He needed to relax.

He stumbled upon the erotic books that Kenjaku had let him read as homework a month ago. “It’s true, I never read them.” As soon as he opened the page he had stopped at, his mind traveled to that memory where he had you against the bed. Your innocent eyes looking at him with uncertainty, your hair spread across the sheets and your breasts exposed, wanting to be touched. He slammed the book shut as soon as his cheeks suddenly heated up.

“What the hell is wrong with me?!” Sukuna exclaimed, pulling his hair out of frustration.

Sukuna had accepted that he thought you were pretty, that you were a faithful servant and that you would be a capable queen, but this was already on another level. He thought he only felt a strong conditional respect for you like the one he had for Uraume, but now it was much more than that. Having accepted that he was in love with you was the worst decision he had ever made in his life. If he didn't find a way to control himself, everything would get out of hand. He fought with every cell in his body to stay out of it, to remain the terrible king he had always been.

He covered his face in an attempt to forget your naked body, but he couldn't. He didn't understand. He had seen many naked bodies to eat, none of them gave him pleasure to see. He preferred to see them suffer than on the cold kitchen table, being cleaned with a knife to be his food later. He considered humans to be filthy rats, why did he see you in a different light?

Sukuna looked at himself in one of the mirrors that hung near his closet, framed with beautiful gold leaf engravings. He couldn't believe that this face that commanded respect and spread terror through the villages was blushing at the thought of a human. A conspiracy impossible to believe. What did all this mean? This couldn't be happening, not to him.

“No! You can't let her take control of you. You should control her!” He scolded himself strongly in front of the mirror, pointing a finger at himself.

Sukuna tightly squeezed the book he had in his hand. He had to prove to himself that he could control himself, avoid thinking about you, seeing you like any other human. He lay down on his bed in annoyance. He looked for the page where he had stopped. He wrinkled his forehead, concentrating on his mission: to be able to read an erotic novel without having any kind of reaction.

The count opened the door with his heart in his hand. She must be the only person he expected to see under the beauty of midnight. It was her, his beautiful beloved wrapped in pink lace. His lips pounced on her with the force of a desperate hurricane. They couldn't waste a second of this spontaneous encounter away from everyone. He unwrapped her like a birthday present and laid her down on the bed. He was going to make love to her as if this were the last night he would be alive.

This was the fantasy world he lived in every time the planets aligned to give them the opportunity to be together. Every kiss, every caress, every touch felt like the last, taking advantage of every second in her presence. His lips were hungry to taste her sensitive skin, to discover what lay beyond her beauty. He tasted her erect breasts with a burning passion that only a man can feel for the love of his life, the one that drove his senses crazy.

“The love of his life, the one that drove his senses crazy,” Sukuna whispered the last sentence to himself as if it were an enigma.

He knew what love was, he didn’t live under a rock, but the love of his life seemed to him an even crazier concept than love itself. He knew that there were different categories of love: parental love, love of art, romantic love, etc. So, what the heck was the love of his life? A once-in-a-lifetime love? Wasn’t that the same as the love of a partner? “Ugh, humans and their nonsense,” he thought, growing more enraged with the situation.

She pressed the book against his bare chest, mulling over the idea in her mind. Maybe he didn't know if you were the love of his life, but you did drive each of his senses crazy. You altered his vision when he saw you in those expensive dresses he bought you. You altered his touch every time he had you close enough to feel your skin. You altered his hearing with every compliment you sang to him. You altered his sense of smell every time he managed to smell the trace of your perfume, even the slightest. You altered his taste with those lips that he just wanted to keep tasting. He was losing his focus. He took the book again to return to what he was doing.

She mounted him, taking possession of his body as if it belonged to her for life. She snaked her way to his lips, offering him the apple that would take them out of paradise forever. The Garden of Eden didn't matter if they could create their own just by being close. Their mouths fused in a kiss as he melted into her. A pleasurable moan escaped from their throats as they felt their flesh rubbing together. Finally, they were united after so long.

Their bodies moved in sync. Lust coursed through their veins, preventing them from thinking coherently. The only thing that mattered was that they felt fulfilled with each other. His beloved moved her hips to the beat of an invisible metronome. Their intimacy expanded with each sit, splashing her fluids over his legs. Her smooth breasts bounced in front of him like a distraction from what was happening below. His hands ran over her rear to guide her to the point that expanded her horizons. A forbidden dance that would cost them their lives.

“My king,” he heard your voice whispering in his mind.

You were on top of him, completely naked. You caressed his chest with the tips of your fingers, moving his tunic out of the way. His breathing hitched as he felt your hips moving sensually against his crotch. It was slow, too slow. Sukuna tried to back away but you moved closer to him, cornered against the headboard of the bed. You smiled innocently at him as if you weren’t playing with him until he burst from impatience. Sukuna’s heart was beating a thousand miles an hour. He was terrified, not because you were there, but because of what he was capable of feeling. He wanted to continue being the terrible king, but he couldn’t do that if you were here. He wanted to get rid of this feeling that tormented him. He wanted…

Your lips against yours silenced all the noise in his mind. He closed his eyes and let himself melt under your sweet touch. He threw the book aside to take possession of your hips. He had no idea what he was doing. He just let his primitive instinct take over. Everything was silent in the middle of the night. If you paid attention, you could hear his altered breathing in the company of the burning campfire. He caressed your hair while his other hands and the tongue on his stomach ran through your body, invoking his mouths to plant kisses on you along the way.

You caressed his strong arms, running over every inch with tenderness until you took his shoulders. Sukuna's face was inked with carmine, but that didn't matter to him now, he needed to satisfy that hunger that he couldn't calm with just anyone. You arched your back as Sukuna took you by the butt with his lower hands, while his upper hands held you to his now bare chest. Your tongue extended as far as possible to feel any corner of your body that it could reach.

He opened your ass to introduce one of his members. Both of you let out a moan in unison at the terrible pleasure you were feeling. Sukuna growled until he put it in as far as it would go. It was tight, warm and slimy, the best feeling he had ever experienced in his life. He guided your hips to move along the magnitude of his penis. Slow but hard, increasing the speed so that you would get used to his body. He kissed your neck, leaving it full of love marks.

He had you under control, right where he wanted you. He was the only one who could own your body. The only one who could see you in such a vulgar way. He flexed his legs to be in charge of the tempo. He slammed his big cock against your wet vagina, soaking his lap and his second cock with your fluids. He growled with each movement, a roar of satisfaction at reaching his maximum. Your hands ran down his neck until they reached the nape of his neck to pull his hair, the only support you had to withstand each blow to your cervix. His four arms trapped you so that you stayed still. You were cornered to his body with no escape.

The second cock was erect like a post, also wanting to participate in the action. It hit your ass like a door, asking for permission to enter. Sukuna, sensing that urgency, lifted you up to sit you on his lap again. He took hold of your arms, keeping them behind your back while he opened his ass to let his extra friend in. You moaned in pain but stayed still. He forced you to lower your hips so that he could enter completely.

“Show your king how much you love him,” Sukuna purred on the edge of maximum excitement.

Sukuna was a complete mess. His body hadn't sweated like this since his last battle with King Jogo, he felt like his heart was going to jump out of his chest and he moved like a machine to reach the end of the race. Your bodies collided with each other, your ass clapping against his testicles to a rhythm that they had just invented. He grunted with each push you gave him to the beat of his strong hips. He took your breasts, covering them completely with the palms of his hands. A pair of tongues appeared on them to lick and nibble them gently, excited and curious to delight in that flesh that they would never dare to swallow. They were soft and playful, a perfect distraction from what was happening down there.

As soon as he least expected it, a white liquid shot out of their penises. Sukuna had recently learned that it was semen and it was normal. He let go against the bed as he breathed heavily. He relaxed his neck, letting his head fall back against the pillows. He closed his eyes as a smile crept onto his face. This had been the best night of his life.

He opened his eyes to take care of you but you were no longer there. You never were. He only found his hands holding his now limp members after having finished what he deserved. Reality hit him hard. He had imagined it all to masturbate. He let out a desperate cry before throwing Kenjaku’s book into the flames of the fireplace. He pulled at his hair as he wondered why all this was happening to him. “No, no, no!” he repeated in his mind. It was official. The king lost his mind.

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[austinsastrology8991]

How PLUTo haunts your HOUSE > Pluto in the houses < Pluto Destroys to give you the power of DESTRUCTION - live with it or die by it

Pluto in the First - destroys others with a look. Watch as everyone crumbles before them, as they try to muster up the courage to look them in the eye. But when the facade fades, everyone mocks them. They either look smug or pissed off, and it really rubs everyone the wrong way, and it rubs themselves the wrong way too. Pluto in the Second - Refusal to be devalued. No matter what you throw at them, they will stay the same. They do have twisted morals, "but every man gotta have a code" until > "they are more like guidelines." They'll change the rules and their own code of ethic so it doesn't interfere with their newest plans. Basically will never follow orders Pluto in the Third - Masters of words, can convince you anything, no matter how retarded, but when you try to teach them something, they have an infinite amount of answers as to why its retarded. These guys are so smart, but so cunning > so people would rather eaves drop their conversations instead Pluto in the Fourth - Unbreakable people who pretend to be broken. They act like they are fragile, but they are just emotional. Everyone tries to prove how weak or strong they are by hitting them again. But this just pisses them off some more. Everyones favourite punching bag Pluto in the Fifth - They act so satisfied, and people wonder what they have accomplished, but they only act this way because they fucked your crush and their sister. In their eyes the way others perceives you makes or breaks you, so they toss out any morality holding them back and curate the perfect image, whilst they are slowly turning into satan. true masters of disguise. Pluto in the Sixth - works way too hard. even when they sleeping they are manifesting in their dreams. Insane work ethic, but others hate them for being try hards. So they get sabotaged a lot, but this only makes them work harder lol Pluto in the Seventh - They know what you want and they embody the forbidden apple that you crave. Everyone resents their ability to play others. And even if you stay outta their way, they'll play everyone around them just to piss you off (unconsciously they'll say). They have little regard for others, because they feel people use them, when they are usually the users. Obsessed with their crush. Pluto in the Eighth - True understanding of power and intrigue. They never reveal their true intentions because they are demonic. But they use this as their allure and throw more smokes and mirrors at you. And everyone around them is fixated on trying to understand them. Until their secrets are revealed, then everyone condemns them for existing. Pluto in the Ninth - They have thought of every intention, every manipulation, every potential secret, so that they cannot be outdone. Until they are, then they re-strategise, and they will make any excuse to themselves as to how their loss is technically a win. Pluto in the Tenth - They gonna get it whatever the goal, the means justify the ends every time. They'll literally make a deal with the devil if it defines victory. They refuse to follow society, so they break it, and make society their bitch. Pluto in the Eleventh - Extreme desires, and extremely fearful they won't make it. So they pull strings with shady characters, who inevitably resent them for letting them being played by someone new to the game. So they got a lot of enemies, and a lot of friends, and the lines are blurred for who is who. Pluto in the Twelth - Everything in life has broken them > when they got injured > when they were 'medicated' > when they came home to their pissed off family. they feel they never get a break. i think life wants to break them, so they realise they are the strongest. but they stay broken because nothing ever stops trying to hunt them down.

Pluto is scary, but its not meant to scare you, but to scare others. well maybe scare everyone...

[enviedear]

ִֶָ ࣪˖𓉸ִֶָྀི ִֶָ་༘ᯓ enviedear's FEAST OF THE DEAD

𝚘𝚗 𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚜 𝚎𝚟𝚎, 𝚓𝚊𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚘𝚍𝚍 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚐𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚎. 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑, 𝚘𝚛 𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗 𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑. 𝚑𝚎'𝚜 𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚎, 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚊��𝚝𝚑 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗—𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚝, 𝚊 𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚍𝚘𝚠 𝚘𝚏 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎. 𝚊 𝚌𝚛𝚞𝚎𝚕 𝚏𝚊𝚝𝚎, 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚎’𝚜 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚜𝚎𝚝 𝚘𝚗 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚝 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎. 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚑𝚒𝚖, 𝚊𝚝 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚝.

CW | ghost!jason au, haunting and other ghostly hobbies, jason is a rowdy spirit. 2.1k words

THE GHOST IN YOUR ROOM

this year's halloween is uncharacteristically tame. the streets aren't quiet—but there's certainly a lull in normal antics. the hollow's night air is settling with a chill, carried by the smog of gotham. the reeking fog clings to you like an unwanted second skin.

a crescent moon flies high from above, mostly shadowed by gotham's pollution, as if it too, was part of the theatrics. unassuming and yet still shrouded in malice. it left you with an ambivalent feeling deep within.

trick-or-treaters had long since vanished into the night, and the streets are now left to a few brave souls moving in haste. you happened to fall into the last category—a curse of late nights at work, holidays be damned. despite any unease, you felt a naive sense of protection. the bats are out, you tell yourself, they can handle halloween, you repeat, over and over, until you reach your apartment.

in truth, all of gotham was unaware of what actually lurked, everyone equally ignorant to the invisible menace set free upon them.

unaware of him.

it's true they used to know him, and they still know the name. the idea. the mask. but he's not that anymore. he hasn't been for some time now.

jason todd had always loathed halloween, even before he died. maybe it was the dramatics, or maybe it was the way people toyed with death and gore with some costume they could slip on and off at will. but now, halloween had become something else entirely. the only thing he both dreaded and yearned for. an entire night hurled back to the worst place on earth. forced into a night of half-life. not fully dead. not fully alive. just…there. a ghost. an apparition. a mere echo of what he used to be.

his tenth year coming back as a phantom, stuck in this in-between, and no closer to breaking free.

he stood, or, floated moreso—leaned up against a crumbling brick wall of an alleyway, dissipating arms crossed over his chest and eyes tracking the few people left walking the streets. they don't see him, of course. they never do—never have. he's just a blur, a cold breeze on the back of their necks, a passing chill that makes them shudder but never pause. for a decade, jason has lived in this half-existence, past self fading more and more with each halloween, and yet he was still here.

but this year? well, he decided this year was going to be fun.

his lips curve into a cruel grin, a glint of mischief in his ghostly cerulean eyes. keener than ever. if he was to be stuck like this—over and over again—then he was damn well going to make the most of it. might as well seek pleasure in his world destroyed.

he pushes off the wall, body phasing through the bricks as easy as walking through a mist. the streets seem to stretch out before him, a haze creeping in from the corners of his vision. he never saw the world clearly, not anymore, not like this.

he moves silently, the entire world oblivious to his presence, but that doesn’t mean he can't make them notice.

he picks his first victim—a guy on his phone, anxiously scanning the street every couple of seconds—walking toward the corner of the street at a pace suggesting he had somewhere important to be.

jason finds it too easy, simply too good to pass by.

with a flick of his wrist, he wills the man's phone to slip from his hand, clattering to the ground with a muffled thud. the man jumps, startled, eyes wide as he fumbles to pick it up.

jason wills it forward, watching the man's face twist into a horrified stillness. he does it again, leaving it teetering off the sidewalk, so close to falling into the grate below.

he lets himself chuckle, amused at his own antics. “relax, buddy…” he mutters under his breath, though no one can hear him. “just a little halloween spirit.”

the guy doesn't seem much in the mood for the season, to both jason's delight and annoyance. after retrieving his phone, he curses under his breath and begins to walk faster. he throws a nervous glance over his shoulder, and jason follows him for a moment.

just to see if he’d try running. if the chill on the back of his neck will disturb him enough to acknowledge that he feels it.

and so, when the man finally breaks into a sprint, jason laughs—a cold, sunken sound that seems to echo through the night. a sound most would pass off as the wind. he's left with a mere sliver of acknowledgment, but it's enough.

a decade of this, ten years of fading in and out of the world he once belonged to. still, no closer to an answer. no closer to crossing over or coming back. hell, he wasn’t even sure where he was supposed to go—if there was somewhere to go. maybe that’s why he tethered to his moments of chaos—to remind himself that he was still something. even if it was just a ghost, a phantom, a nightmare that no one could ever remember.

but then there was you.

you, with your candles flickering in the windowsill, and the quiet hum of autumnal tunes drifting out into the street. you weren’t behaving like the others. no closed curtains or blinds, no weapon in your hands or directly beside you—no unnecessary fear inside of you. nothing but him to capture your full attention.

he decides to take action. he can have fun with you.

he slips through the wall of your apartment with ease, the faint smell of sweet spices and burning wax fill the space. you're sitting at your kitchen table, scrolling through something on your laptop, unaware of the slight chill creeping up to you.

jason hovers near the doorway, watching you for a moment longer before he decides to act.

he makes the lights flicker.

once. then twice.

you pause, glancing up toward the ceiling, brows furrowing in confusion. jason grins, floating closer, until he's standing just behind you.

“lights don’t usually do that, do they?” he whispers, almost coy.

your shoulders tense, but you don't bolt. jason had expected you to panic, to reach for your phone or at least mutter something about calling an electrician.

instead, you turn in your chair, slowly, eyes scanning the room as if daring the very air around you to explain itself.

“how on theme.” you murmur to yourself, shaking your head with a soft laugh.

jason’s grin widens. oh, he thinks, it's too easy.

next, he floats toward your cup on the table, brushing his fingers against the rim just enough to nudge it. it wobbles precariously, threatening to spill.

you glance down, surprised, but not alarmed.

"the hell?"

your reaction catches jason off guard. he’s used to fear, panic, even. but you’re just… curious. a smile tugs at his lips, this game becoming more interesting by the second.

he pushes the cup again, this time with a bit more force, watching as the liquid sloshes close to the edge but doesn’t spill. you sit up straight, eyeing the cup, and then—unexpectedly—sigh in amusement.

"spirit possesses local woman's cup." you say aloud, almost as if addressing him directly. "or local woman embraces her own delusions?" your eyes seem to flick to his form.

jason freezes, eyes widening in surprise. you can’t see him—no one can. you can’t know he’s here.

it must be a coincidence, he tells himself, brushing it off—but something inside him feels…unsettled.

he leans in closer, curious now. there’s something different about you, something that makes him hesitate. you’re not frightened, not anxious like everyone else. instead, you’re… almost calm. he likes that. it’s unnerving and oddly compelling at once.

“what would you do if it were a ghost?” jason whispers, knowing full well you can’t hear him. yet, you pause, almost as if his words have slipped into your thoughts. he watches intently as you tilt your head, that same bemused smile playing on your lips.

“i don’t know.�� you mutter, more to yourself than to him. “probably ask it to make itself useful. help with the dishes or something...”

jason can’t help the bark of laughter that escapes him, though it comes out as a hollow echo. for the first time in ten years, someone… amused him. actually amused him. not through the petty tricks or the fleeting terror he usually inflicted, but because of your sheer disregard for the idea of fright.

he feels an odd pull—something he hasn’t felt in years. his tether to the world has always been weak, fading, barely enough to keep him anchored. but now, standing in your kitchen, watching you smirk at the idea of a possible haunting, he feels—more present. more solid.

jason frowns, unsure what’s happening, but he can’t bring himself to stop. he drifts closer, barely inches from you now, trying to see if you can feel him—sense him in some way.

you shiver, glancing over your shoulder again, eyes narrowing as you survey the room.

“i swear, if i have a ghost and you do is knock over my shit, i'm getting salt and holy water or something.” you mumble, equally serious and sarcastic.

jason bites his lip, suppressing the urge to knock the cup over just to see what you’d do. but instead, something compels him to reach out again—not for a prank, but something else. slowly, carefully, he presses his hand onto the back of your chair, and to his shock, the chair creaks under the pressure.

you freeze, eyes wide.

he waits for the panic to set in, for you to scream or run—but you don’t. you turn around fully this time, facing him, or where you think he might be. your gaze searches the empty space, and for a second—just a split second—jason swears your eyes meet his.

his hand stays pressed against the back of your chair, and for a moment, everything stops.

you look around the room, searching for something you can’t quite place, while he watches, waiting for your reaction. he can almost feel the anticipation, a strange pulse thrumming through him like a memory of a heartbeat.

then, as quickly as it builds, it dissipates. you blink, shaking your head, before letting out a soft, almost dismissive laugh.

“alright, time for bed—before i go fully crazy.” you hum, getting up from the table and stretching as if to ridd yourself from the odd energy clinging to your apartment.

jason steps back, fading into the edges of the space, to the shadows that feel more like home. his form begins to blur as he watches you. careful and curious, as you shrug off whatever moment you’d just bore. you move about your apartment as though everything is normal again. as if nothing had happened at all.

but something does nag at you. there's a lingering discomfort. your gaze drifts back to the corner where jason had stood, and you hesitate for a split second longer than you care to. the lights are steady now, eerie flickering gone. no cups moving. no chair groaning. the room is calm.

too calm, maybe.

“the hell was that?” you murmur, rubbing your temples. a part of you is tempted to write it off, to laugh at yourself for even considering anything unusual. but another part—the one that’s harder to dismiss—knows what you felt. the chair creaking under weight that wasn’t there. the cup moving just slightly, too deliberately, like someone—something—was playing with it. the kind of thing that makes you wonder, just for a second, if you aren’t alone.

maybe it’s the season, the weird energy of halloween. or maybe…

you stop yourself from finishing that thought. ghosts don’t exist. of course, they don’t.

still, as you shut off the lights and head to bed, the unease sticks with you. you crawl under the covers, willing yourself to relax, but your mind is still spiraling over everything that happened. you stare up at the ceiling in the dark, replaying the moment again and again. the chill, the feeling, the voice—it felt too real to ignore but too impossible to believe.

you force yourself to close your eyes, telling yourself it's just your imagination. halloween paranoia and nothing more.

jason watches from the shadows, his form barely in this world now, slipping further out of focus as you drift off. he grins to himself, the faintest trace of a laugh rumbling in his chest.

you’d felt him. not fully, not yet—but you had.

as the night grows colder and the world begins to fade into a blur, jason pulls back, disappearing back into the nothingness he called home. this time, though, he's hopeful. he found something with you, and he's not going to leave it behind.

a realization and acknowledgment, however faint. the knowledge that you had seen him, even if you didn’t realize it.

he’ll find you again—and next time—he wants you to know he's there.

[mcflymemes]

STAR WARS: EPISODE III - REVENGE OF THE SITH (2005) PROMPTS *  assorted dialogue from the film, adjust as necessary

it's over, [name]. i have the high ground.

you underestimate my power.

i hate you!

you were my brother! i loved you!

do it.

you've become the very thing you swore to destroy.

don't lecture me.

don't make me kill you.

if you're not with me, then you're my enemy.

i will do what i must.

all who gain power are afraid to lose it.

they think inwards, only about themselves.

they only care about others.

what happened to him?

you're under arrest.

are you threatening me, [name]?

goodbye old friend.

you have done that to yourself.

you will not take her from me.

i saw your ship! what are you doing out here?

i was so worried about you.

love won't save you.

you're a good person. don't do this.

i won't lose you the way i lost my mother.

i'm doing it for you, to protect you.

come away with me. help me raise our child.

leave everything else behind while we still can.

we don't have to run anymore.

you and i can rule the galaxy, make things the way we want them to be.

i don't believe what i'm hearing.

i don't know you anymore.

you're breaking my heart.

you're going down a path i can't follow.

you're with him!

you brought him here to kill me!

this is where the fun begins.

for reasons we can't explain, we are losing her.

she has lost the will to live.

we don't know why.

there are too many of them.

death is a natural part of life.

train yourself to let go of everything you fear to lose.

can you hear me?

in your anger, you killed her.

treat them well.

i have waited a long time for this moment.

you will not stop me.

i have failed you.

this is the end for you.

i expected someone with your reputation to be a little older.

we have a job to do. try not to upset him.

you're a little shorter than i expected.

i must talk to you.

i've just learned a terrible truth.

how do you know this?

our worst fears have been realized.

what was that all about?

i didn't say anything.

not to worry. we're still flying half a ship.

what have i done?

i will do whatever you ask.

i told you it would come to this!

army or not, you must realize you are doomed.

are you all right? you're trembling.

something wonderful has happened. i'm pregnant.

i need your help. he is in grave danger.

you're going to kill him, aren't you?

he has become a very great threat.

let's get a move on.

we've got a battle to win here.

love won't save you.

i sense a trap.

you owe me one, and not for saving your skin for the tenth time.

this is how liberty dies... with thunderous applause.

what did you say?

i sense great fear in you.

the plan has gone as you had promised.

you are a bold one.

i know what's been troubling you.

are you going to kill me?

i can feel your anger.

it's very dangerous, putting them together.

i am going to end this, once and for all.

i'm too weak. don't kill me, please.

that has nothing to do with this.

you are so beautiful.

love has blinded you?

i'm going to end this war.

who could have done this?

there is something i must know.

[magiccath]

Emergency Dance Party

Tenth Doctor x reader (ambiguous relationship) (could also be any Doctor if you ignore the Converse comment)

Summary: In which the Doctor and the TARDIS come up with a way to make your week a little better

A/N: I wrote this for myself MONTHS ago and kinda just forgot to post it. Also, he's so pretty in this GIF

Today wasn’t your day. It hadn’t really been your week either. You were tired, grumpy, and beyond fed-up. It wasn’t anything in particular, but rather an accumulation of small things combined with a general discomfort. 

You walked into the TARDIS control room, hoping that the familiar hum of the ship might calm your anxieties. The Doctor was busy with the console, fiddling away with the controls. He became aware of your presence once you got a few steps into the room before promptly faceplanting. 

The thump made him turn towards you before rushing to help you up. You met his flustered concern with your own exasperation, accepting his outreached hand begrudgingly. 

“Are you alright?” he asked, still holding on to you. 

“Just my luck,” you groaned to yourself, adjusting your footing. “I’m fine,” you grumbled, pulling your hand from his to brush off your shirt. “It’s just one of those weeks.” 

“The kind where absolutely nothing goes right?” he asked, leaning back against the console casually. Your eyes drifted to the floor, his dirty Converse catching your eye. He was wearing the white ones today, his ankles crossed gently over each other. 

“Yeah,” you sighed, really feeling the weight of the week. 

“I think I have just the thing.” He grinned brightly. You loved his smile, it was always lopsided and giddy. It reminded you of a kid on Christmas or a serial killer. It depended on the day.

“I don’t really feel up for an adventure,” you admitted, slumping into the control room chair. You didn’t have the physical or emotional energy to run after the Doctor. He had promised “stress-free” trips in the past, and they always ended with some form of chaos. When you traveled with the Doctor, there was no such thing as a “beach vacation”, at least not in the traditional sense. Usually, such expeditions ended with something blowing up.

“Don’t worry,” he laughed, “we don’t have to leave the TARDIS for this.” 

You watched him move about the console in his regular manner. He did this for so long, that you started to think watching him was supposed to be the activity for the day. Before you could question his motives, he made his way over to you. He was holding something, but he hid it behind his back so you couldn’t see. 

“Please tell me that’s not a duck,” you groaned, remembering the Doctor’s last surprise. That one left the ship in shambles, and single handedly destroyed your favorite shirt. 

The Doctor frowned, “What’s wrong with ducks?” 

“Nothing,” you laughed lightly, “I just don’t want to have to chase after another one.” 

The Doctor nodded sheepishly, remembering the hassle you two had when he brought a rouge duck onto the ship. He still hadn’t put the kitchen back together, and that had been months ago now. 

“Well, it’s not a duck,” he explained, moving his hands to the front of his body to show you what was in them. He held the large, bright pink button under your nose excitedly. 

“What exactly is it?” you asked, peering at the strange object. For all you knew, it could be the TARDIS self-destruct button. You didn’t trust big red buttons, and you certainly didn’t trust pink ones.

“Just press it.” he grinned. You searched his eyes for a moment, trying to figure out if it was safe or not. After some deliberation, you rested your hand warily over the button. 

The Doctor nodded, encouraging you to push down. You squeezed your eyes shut and did as such. 

When nothing blew up, you opened your eyes warily. The ship transformed before you: the lighting was different, a disco ball lowered from seemingly nowhere, and the floor tiles began to light up in synchronized patterns. In a matter of seconds, the TARDIS had turned into a magnificent disco. 

You raised your eyebrow, clearly confused by the change of decoration. You didn’t know the TARDIS had a disco mode. You could only assume it had been installed in the '70s. 

“Emergency party button.” He smirked. “Press it again,” he urged. 

Gently, you pressed the button again, and music started to fill the room. The distinct opening beats of your favorite song brought a small smile to your face. 

The Doctor threw the button across the room recklessly before holding his hand out to you. You took it, allowing your smile to fully take over your face. 

“Emergency dance party,” he explained, grasping both of your hands. 

“With my favorite song?” 

The Doctor nodded, clearly proud of himself. He wasn’t always the most observant, but when he was it made your heart melt. He knew the little things, like how you took your coffee, what your handwriting looked like, and your favorite meal of the day.

“How did you know?” You laughed. 

“You told me once,” he smiled, his eyes showing all of the love he had for you. 

You smiled back, all traces of sadness and frustration leaving your mind instantly.

The two of you bounded, jumped, and danced your way through the TARDIS for hours, laughing and smiling until it hurt. When you couldn’t dance anymore, you collapsed on the floor in a fit of giggles, simply enjoying each other’s company. 

It was the best part of your week, probably even the best part of your year. By the end of it, you couldn’t even imagine the sour mood you had been in before, basking too much in the joy of the moment. 

At the end of the day, all it took was an emergency dance party with your favorite alien to boost your mood. 

[ultram0th]

Derek/Chad

@writer-ofstuff Thank you so much! ❤

-- -- --

“Of all the places to search for a trickster,” Derek annoyedly huffed, “we have to scope out some crappy reunion?”

His boyfriend, Stiles, shrugged his thin shoulders. “I guess even tricksters had to go to school, too.”

The alpha werewolf rolled his eyes as he stomped up the steps to the gymnasium where music blasted out of. Wanting to go incognito, Derek had begrudgingly dressed up in a suit so that he could look like he was attending his own high school reunion, despite the fact that he loathed the thought of ever stepping foot into a school at all. Meanwhile, Stiles was all smiles, dressed up too and ready to look like it was date night.

The two walked inside and were instantly greeted by someone standing by a table. “Welcome to the tenth year reunion!” he warmly smiled at the two before scrunching up his face in confusion. “Oh, I don’t think I recognize you, sorry!”

Stiles paled as he tried to come up with a lie, and Derek could hear his heart speed up. 

The werewolf looked down at the table in front of them, seeing the array of name tags on it. He spotted one and snatched it up, peeling the back off of it.

“You don’t recognize… Gilbert?” he asked, slapping the name tag onto Stiles’s chest, trying to hold back a chuckle.

Stiles just narrowed his eyes at his boyfriend.

The guy behind the table perked up. “Oh Gilbert!” he beamed. “Wow, you look great…” He trailed off, his gaze fixating on Derek for a moment before perking up. “And oh, I didn’t know that you were coming too. Let me make you a name tag.”

Before Derek could ask, the guy scribbled down a name on a blank sticker and placed it on the front of Derek’s suit.

Chad.

“Welcome, Chad,” the guy smirked at the werewolf before turning his attention to the other couples who entered.

Derek and Stiles walked away from the table and towards the gymnasium entrance.

“Damn it,” Stiles frowned. “Why do I have to be ‘Gilbert’, and you get a manly name like ‘Chad’? Let’s switch!” He tried to grab the name tag off of Derek’s suit, but he couldn’t get it to peel off. “It’s really stuck on there…”

"Damn it,” Derek muttered, annoyed that his suit was probably destroyed thanks to some crappy sticker. However, something else caught his attention and he cleared his throat. “Um, hey Stiles, does my voice sound… deeper?”

Perhaps it was due to the blaring music over the speakers, but Derek could’ve sworn that his voice had more baritone to it. Due to his status as an alpha, his voice was regularly deep and commanding, but now it had a certain quality to it that made it sound like it had a much more masculine bass.

“I don’t think so?” Stiles wondered, having trouble hearing clearly with his human ears. “Should we leave?” He briefly worried that his boyfriend wasn’t feeling well.

Derek shook his head. “No, let’s split up and search for this trickster,” he said in his deeper voice. “Call me if you see anything… Gilbert.” He smirked at the way Stiles frowned.

“Yeah, yeah, Chad.” Stiles disappeared in the crowd of people dancing and drinking in the packed gymnasium.

As Derek walked Stiles walk away, his eyes couldn’t resist honing in on his boyfriend’s firm butt. The way the cheeks shifted as he walked away caused a stirring deep in Derek’s loins, and the werewolf blushed as he grew hard in the middle of the crowd of people. Luckily, his tight pants kept his boner shielded, so Derek stayed determine to hunt down this trickster and kick him out of his territory.

Derek shoved his way through the crowd of people, sniffing at the air as he tried to catch a scent.

“Move!” he growled at one guy as he shoved his way past, no longer able to doubt that his voice was indeed deeper. It had much more bass than it should’ve, making him sound almost like a stereotype of a superhero.

He rubbed at his throat, as if he could fix his voice, but his eyes widened at what he felt.

Derek had shaved before leaving his place, all to play the part. Therefore, his throat and lower jaw shouldn’t have been covered in thick stubble. Even more was that Derek couldn’t help but gasp when his fingers ran over his jaw. It felt wider than it should’ve been, like it had even squared off a bit too.

“What the hell…?” Derek trailed off, trying to wrap his head around what was going on.

He continued to push his way through the thick crowd of people, feeling increasingly uncomfortable. As he moved, Derek felt as if his clothes were getting tighter by the second. He knew that thought was ridiculous, so he tried his best to ignore it. However, with every step he took, his pants constricted his legs, and his shirt was unbearably tight. His arms felt as if they were being squeezed by his sleeves, and he feared that if he took a deep breath, his shirt would rip to shreds.

Pop!

The top few buttons of his shirt gave way, flying off.

Derek looked down in confusion, his eyes widening when he saw that his chest somehow jutted further away from his torso than it should’ve. As impossible as it seemed, it was as if Derek’s pecs had somehow inflated, increasing their rigid roundness; and he could make out two bumps where his nubby nipples pressed noticeably against his straining shirt which struggled to remain intact.

“What the fuck?” Derek wondered aloud, noting that his voice was definitely deeper now.

The werewolf shoved his way past the crowd of people, having to adjust his stance due to the increased weight at his chest. He was forced to draw his shoulders back, which only shoved his inflated pecs out into the air even more. And the more he moved, the more he noted how his thighs seemed to roll over one another in a manner they never had before. 

Derek stumbled a little, feeling like his gait was entirely thrown off. The room spun for a brief second, and when he regained his composure, he couldn’t help but feel like something was really off.

He was on the taller side of the spectrum; but when he’d first entered the gymnasium, he’d been able to see the tops of the other patrons’ heads, but now he felt as if he completely towered over them. The coolness he felt over his ankles alerted him to the fact that his previously fitted pants now felt more like tight capris, and his shirt had become untucked. The bottom of his skintight shirt now stopped above his belly button, looking like it was a cut-off.

Derek quickened his pace and bolted into the bathroom, which was thankfully vacant. After locking the door being him, he looked into the mirror and couldn’t hold back the loud gasp at his altered reflection.

Derek was huge! He must’ve grown at least a foot taller, based on how short his clothes looked. And speaking of his clothes, they barely fit over his inflated muscles. It looked as if he’d gained well over fifty pounds of pure muscle. His arms bulged in a way they never had before, splitting his sleeves at the seam as they flexed with power. His already broad shoulders were much, much wider than they should’ve been, looking like the werewolf would have to go through any standard-sized door sideways now. His pecs were enormous, looking like large slabs of meat that jutted off his chest. They tore his shirt apart, his nubby nipples exposed out in the open for all to see. His legs had even gained some serious size, his thighs pressed tightly together as his quads inflated. His butt even looked bigger too— not like a power bottom’s, but more so like he didn’t neglect Leg Day.

And Derek couldn’t help but stare at his altered face in awe, noting how much wider and bigger his jaw looked. It was comically squared off, and covered in thick, manly stubble. A dimple had even appeared on his chin, and Derek ran a disbelieving hand over his jaw in wonder.

“What the fuck’s happening to me?” he asked, noting his deep baritone.

Derek felt his larger chest itch and as he scratched it, the werewolf felt little hairs start to sprout over his skin. He watched in the mirror in wonder as his chest hair grew in, thickening as it covered his larger pecs and chiseled abs.

And despite the panic he felt over what was happening to him, Derek was extremely horny.

The longer he stared at his warped reflection, the more turned on he felt. Despite himself, Derek couldn’t resist bending over and forming a most muscular pose that he’d seen bodybuilders do during competitions. His massive muscles flexing in unison caused audible rips to echo out in the small bathroom, and what was left of his shirt split down the middle, exposing his inflated, hairy chest. He could feel his cock harden in his tight pants, snaking down one pant leg, looking much longer and thicker than it should’ve been.

A knock at the locked bathroom door jolted Derek out of his daze.

“Derek!” Sitles called out, sounding concerned. “I saw you run in here. Are you okay?”

Out of instinct, Derek immediately rushed over to the door and unlocked it just so he could yank the small human inside, before slamming the door and re-locking it.

After regaining his bearings, Stiles looked up in awe at his warped boyfriend. “Chad?” he asked in disbelief before flinching. He cleared his throat and tried again. “De— Chad? What the hell? Why can’t I call you ‘Chad’? I mean, your name is Chad. What…?” His face grew red as he tried to call Derek by his name, seemingly unable to do so.

The way his boyfriend looked flustered made Derek’s heart race in his beefy chest, and he cleared his own throat.

“Um,” he bellowed out in his masculine bass, “my name is D— er, Chad.” His eyes widened as he stared back into the mirror, honing in on the name tag affixed to his destroyed suit.

Derek envisioned himself going through Beacon Hills, his massive muscles and over-exaggerated masculinity on display for all to see. He looked like a caricature of some kind of superhero, with a large jaw and hairy muscles— and he was so incredibly turned on.

His gigantic, lengthened cock sprung out of his tight pants, hardening to its new length of eleven inches, looking as thick as a beer can, with balls the size of oranges. It rose in front of the stunned werewolf, throbbing with intense want, a horny cloud shrouding over his panicked brain, making it impossible to think of anything else but his cute boyfriend.

“It must be the trickster!” Stiles gasped loudly as he put the pieces together. He grabbed onto Derek’s large arm and tried to lead him towards the door so that they could leave this cursed reunion and figure out a way to fix him. “C’mon Chad!”

Derek/Chad didn’t budge, only one thing on his mind. Instead, he reached out with a muscled arm, easily picking up Stiles and tossing him over a broadened shoulder.

“Calm down, Little Man,” Chad bellowed in his deep voice, puffing his hairy chest muscles out with power, “just let Daddy here take care of things.” With his hard cock bobbing in front of him and his bare, hairy muscles on full display, Chad exited the bathroom with his boyfriend in his clutches.

As the two exited the gymnasium, Chad noticed the guy at the table in front flash him a thumb’s up. For a brief second, he thought it was odd, but he quickly ignored it and focused his mind on fucking his boyfriend senseless tonight.

[murrpa]

heart wrecking angst⇩

•

•

•

In Deadpool 4, Logan discovers his presence in Wades universe messes up cycle of events and if he continues to live in it— the universe can collapse (butterfly effect kind of thing), so in the end of the movie B-15 and minute men show up dramatically a they do at Wades apartment, and escort Logan back into the headquarters planning to send him back to his “home”. Both Logan and Wade see the scale of this, and Wade soon is taken to talk to him one last time before never seeing him again since B-15 felt generous that day. So she give them this moment.

Wade scoffs: So now is the time? Hah, I should’ve known, TVA has every event written down to nanoseconds… I swear, it puts someone’s strict mother’s skill to plan the whole year in advance and never let her kid see the light of day without her permission at shame!

All that while Logan looks at him. Though he has so much to say, to confess, but decides not to do it, maybe because it’ll hurt letting him go more than it already is.

Wade approaches him: I… ugh, was not prepared, otherwise I would’ve pulled out my 100 page essay and read it to you in British accent as you walk further away from me into the sunset.

Logan: Wade?

Wade: Yeah?

Logan struggles. What is there to say now? His heart is aching, and cracks with each passing second there’s left. He wanted to say his life was at its fullest by Wade’s side, how he’s now changed man, all because of him. For him. That he will continue being that person in his world simply because Wade will be proud.

Logan: I might have my own place, my house and whatnot… But I never dared to call it my home, y’know?

Wade listens, no longer daring to quip a sound. And hazel eyes of Logan glisten in nothing but sadness. If that emotion could be painted— it would be him. Right now.

Logan: I wish the world was on my side, fair to me, to us, Wade.

His voice shakes. And he no longer cares to control the tear that soon oozes out the corner of an eye, to his hope, telling at least a tenth of all what his heart wants to say. Then it finally hits merc. Is this really it?

Wade: Peanut, I promise, it’s okay.

No. It fucking hurts. Wade never hated to say goodbye so damn much like now, but understands, that to love someone is letting them go.

He’s only doing it for Logan, for his universe. Sure there’s something that’s waiting for him, something better than this. Which what Logan deserves, after non consensual involvement in Wade’s goal to save his own world. After what he had been through.

Logan softly sobs: It shouldn’t be, I wish I had a choice. Because coming back is long time off my list.

Wade realizes his emotions reveal, a hot heavy tear drops off his chin, and fake but bitter smile grows to comfort Wolverine. Ignoring everything what’s falling into pieces in his chest.

Wade: I just… I just never want you to get into dangerous shit cause of me. I want you to be okay.

But Logan doesn’t care, even if his old life promises to be as peaceful as Swedish government. In the end, being next to Wade— suddenly makes chaos worth it.

Logan: I was okay, Wade, I was… so happy— but as soon as my foot steps through the teleporter…

Logan breaks as more tears rush down his face. His gaze locked with Wade’s.

Logan: … I will comeback being the same pitty guy you picked up at the bar.

But Wade protests.

Wade: No, nope, you’ll comeback better than ever.

He gives up smiling, then reaching out for the man, locking him in the most loving hug, arms wrapping waist, one digging fingertips into the shirt, and second one cards Logan’s hair. Which makes older man hate himself for not hugging Wade often before, when they were so happy, and lived under one roof not knowing this day would come.

Wade: You are, and always will be the best wolverine.

Logan hides his face in Wade’s neck, ashamed someone might see him, how destroyed he is with pain of leaving him, forever.

Wade: Thank you infinitely, for staying, saving my world.

Wade’s hushed voice sends chills, and throat begins to burn, yearning to say one last thing as he hears footsteps approaching.

Logan: Thank you for becoming mine.

(lmk if you’re interested in me writing full fic based off of this💛❤️)

[getvalentined]

I don't talk FlightRising often because it's kinda something I do with my sister, so it's closer to "IRL" than "fandom" for me—but as someone in Light who recently celebrated her tenth anniversary on the site, the complaints I keep seeing about our new Everlux babies are ridiculous.

Light is the flight with the dragon breed whose bodies can and will fuse together into a horrible undead monster if too many of them are killed in a single location and their corpses aren't removed or destroyed quickly enough. Our other modern breed eats its own eggshell after hatching, as soon as it's able to chew, and then spits it back up in the form of a pearl that it just kinda carries around for the rest of its life. Why is the magical draconic caterpillar too much?

You don't have to like the design, but this is ludicrous. You don't have to keep them. I don't keep Ridgebacks because I don't like how they look. I promise no one is going to arrest you for not having the "right" dragon PNGs in your lair.

For the love of Glittermom, pick up your eggs from Galore, hatch them, then sell them. I don't think the babies are clanbound, are they? Just the eggs? (Correct me if I'm wrong on this.) Someone who wants them gets first-gen Everluxes, you get paid, everyone goes home happy.

[1800naveen]

Until.

Wander.

Tamlin often wandered around the Spring Court. For a while, he lived in his beast form. He felt a sense of freedom in that form. He could run, run, run, and nobody would stop him. But now, he was walking in his fae form. A feeling of melancholy surrounded the Spring Court, which was brought to its knees by his former lover and fiancé, Feyre Archeron, who was now the High Lady of the Night Court and both mate and wife to his former friend and ally, Rhysand.

He had caused her pain so in return, she did the same to him. Manipulating and scheming to make this Court fall. His people were taken in by Tarquin, High Lord of the Summer Court and Tamlin was grateful for his generosity.

"Be happy, Feyre." were the last words he told her before helping her resurrect Rhysand from the dead. In return, she wrote Tamlin a letter.

"Thank you. I hope you find happiness too." It was a kind gesture. But could he find happiness? She was the one to ruin the damn court and drove his people away. Homes and nature burned to ashes by the armies of Hybern.

A part of him felt a twinge of guilt. He let this happen to his own home. He should've figured out something was wrong. He also knew that not all of the blame fell on his shoulders. The forefathers of his bloodline would be disappointed, that's for sure.

Especially his father.

He could hear the words coming from his mouth. "How could you have let this happen? Let a Mortal-Made Fae destroy this Court? An abomination of a High Lord. A failure that I have to call a son." Tamlin remembered how his brothers threatened to kill him if he wished to be a High Lord. "Remember this, dear brother. Remember these words when you wish to think of the words "High Lord"." Weylin, the second-born, had whispered to him after he snuck into Tamlin's room at the dead of night.

"If you dare to pursue being worthy. To be chosen by father. To be his heir to the Spring Court. We will put an end to you and make sure you never see the light of day again. Do you understand?" Cian, the first-born, spat out. Tamlin could hear the poison, the venom intertwining in his words. The boy he had once been only nodded. He didn't have much power back then but it feels like he doesn't have much power even now.

Cupping his hands into the stream, Tamlin splashed his face to stop thinking about those thoughts. A gentle breeze made his hair sway. It was now down to his mid-back as it was once before.

Conflicted.

That was the word to describe how Tamlin was feeling. Conflicted.

A part of him felt smug for being crowned High Lord when his brothers terrorized him about it.

A part of him was glad that Rhysand and his father killed his family but not his mother. She was the only one who he mourned.

Tamlin loved his mother and he knew that she loved him too but when his father, Taranis, was being a tyrannical piece of shit, she turned a blind eye. How could a mother do something like that to their own child? To their own son?

A sigh left his lips.

His brothers were right.

Perhaps they knew the future of him and what would happen to the Court.

And a part of him wished that his brothers had killed him. He wouldn't have to be burdened with the title and responsibilities of a High Lord. The Spring Court would still be thriving. He wouldn't have to go through all this pain. But maybe in another life, he would be a traveling minstrel. He would go around and sing songs, speak of poems, limericks, ballads, but most of all, he could play his fiddle to his heart's content. He would have his own group that he would call his family. A ragtag team of misfits.

His own family that would love him, flaws and all. A family that wouldn't leave him behind.

It had been a gift from his mother for his tenth birthday. He had to carve his name into the fiddle so that his brothers wouldn't take it from him. Luckily, they didn't break it or toss it away as it kept him from High Lord. But they did make fun of it. However, Tamlin didn't mind. He had more talent in his fingers than his brothers had in their entire body. Besides being warriors and strategists.

A door creaked open. It's been a while since Tamlin was in the manor. It was a mess, of course. He really needed to clean it up. Most of the mess was created by him when he felt his emotions all pent up. And the rest came from him neglecting the home.

Now or never, Tamlin got to work. In an attempt to tidy up the manor to the best of his abilities. This would take a while.

The living room and kitchen were the only things Tamlin cleaned up. Some other time, he would clean the upstairs.

A broken mirror was on the ground, facing down. Tamlin carefully picked it up so that he wouldn't cut himself. Half of the shattered mirror pieces are still laid on the ground. He would have to fix it later with paste. The other half of the mirror was intact, showing half of his face. He went to hang it up on the wall of the living room.

"You've changed." Tamlin spoke himself as he stared into the mirror. The light in his green eyes was dimmed. Sadness and loneliness danced in his eyes in replacement.

A shell of a male.

He let his anger, frustration, and sadness consume him and he was now what people thought him of.

A beast.

A monster.

And a villain in the eyes of those he wronged.

He traveled far beyond the path of reason.

"What troubles you, Tam?" That voice. Tamlin hadn't heard it since he died. Killed by the woman he once loved.

Andras.

Brown hair tied back, rich tanned skin, and eyes the color of amber that were filled with mischief. That used to be filled with mischief.

"It's been a long time, my friend." Tamlin turned to face Andras. He stood there as a spirit. Was he going mad to the point he could see ghosts?

"It has." Andras' eyes darted from place to place as he studied the manor. "And what the hell happened here?" "A long story." Tamlin replied. "Ah yes. A story that I'm aware of." That made him still.

"How?" His voice was hushed but the tone was filled with uneasiness. "I've been wandering around the Court ever since I was killed. Prythian too but I prefer to stay here." Tamlin needed to sit down. He stumbled to the couch, putting a hand to his head.

"My job was done when Feyre put an end to my life but deep down, I knew it wasn't. And I was right. Because here you are, all alone with nothing but your sunken Court." "Thanks for your kind words, Andras. I love to be reminded of that." "You're welcome!" A stupid grin grew on his face.

Oh, how Tamlin missed it.

"I don't know what to do. I don't know where to start." Tamlin muttered. "With what?" "With everything." He fell back, hitting the cushions. Andras didn't say a word but walked up to Tamlin, helping him sit back up. "How are you touching me?" "Don't question it. Let me help." Oh, he hated those words. Tamlin never liked getting people's help. He believed that he could do almost anything on his own. It was one of his flaws; his hubris.

"Tell me everything. What happened?" Andras' face showed gentleness. "I thought you knew." "I know half. I did say that I wander around Prythian, not just the Spring Court."

Tamlin rolled his eyes but still, he told Andras everything. Under The Mountain, him locking Feyre up in what he thought was protection, becoming a double spy for Hybern, Feyre dismantling the Court, Feyre and Lucien leaving together, Tarquin taking in his people, Hybern's armies bringing damage to both Spring and Summer, the war, helping Feyre bring Rhysand back to life, and finally, Rhysand coming to mock him during Solstice.

A wince came from Andras. "That's rough, buddy." "Indeed." Now annoyed, Tamlin stared off into the distance. None of the males said a word to each other. Only let the silence fill the air.

A clock ticked calmly. Like a metronome.

"Tam, listen to me." Tamlin slowly turned his head to Andras, waiting for whatever Andras was going to say.

"Do you remember when you were crowned High Lord?" How could he not remember? He could still recall the memory, even though it had been centuries.

"May the Mother bless you and the Spring Court. All hail Tamlin Lysander, High Lord of the Spring Court!" Ianthe, his former childhood friend was the one to crown him.

All hail Tamlin, High Lord of Ruin.

Since that day, he knew that no amount of self-sought fury would bring back the glory of innocence.

"I do. And what does my coronation have to do with anything?" "Being a High Lord, you're in charge of the land and have duties to do. You're in charge of Spring. The land that is ever-changing." That was false though. The Seasonal Courts were in a permanent state of the season it represents. Mother, he sounded like a smartass.

"Spring is a new beginning. A new transformation. Staring over and staring anew." "What are you getting at?" Tamlin was starting to tire.

"What I'm saying is, you are the High Lord of the Spring Court. You are the land and the magic. You are Spring. So act like it." Tamlin raised an eyebrow.

"When flora begins to bloom, bloom alongside with it. When the light shines upon, shine and burn bright. When something new is planted, take root and grow. Change has always been and will always be possible. We cannot fix our past mistakes but we can reflect back on it, see what we have done wrong, acknowledge it, and grow." Andras took Tamlin's hand into his.

"To grow is to be reborn. To live is to suffer but to love as well. You are so much more than your fears. Than your anxieties, your anger, and your sadness." Woe climbed Tamlin like a ladder, tears threatened to fall but he wouldn't let them. He never did like to cry in front of people but with Andras, maybe it would be alright.

"You were the poet of us three but it didn't mean I couldn't pick up a few things." Andras shot a wink. Tamlin chuckled, the tears going back into the depths. Him, Lucien, and Andras. The death of their dear friend was hard on the both of them but mostly on Lucien.

He viewed him as his younger brother even though Andras was the second oldest; Tamlin being the eldest and Lucien being the youngest.

"I promise you this," Andras' grip got tighter. "I won't pass on until you are better. Until our home is better. I refuse to leave you until that smile of yours returns, until the light in your eyes is radiant like an emerald once more. I will not give up on you, so don't give up on me." "Thank you, Andras...Thank you." Tamlin whispered the last thanks, almost like a prayer. His head fell onto Andras' shoulder and his arms wrapped around like a snake.

He wanted to get better. He wanted to be better. He would get better, be better than the male he once was.

"Walk with me." Tamlin lend out a hand for Andras to take. Both of the males' hands clasped together.

They headed outside.

Birds chirped here and there. Woodland creatures scurried on the grass. The air was calm and chill. The sun was being to set which let the sky a beautiful orange, red, and purple.

Tamlin and Andras' hands were still intertwined. His thumb moved up and down softly, soothing on the High Lord's hand. Almost like a lullaby.

510 years, Tamlin had been alive. His childhood was one no child should ever have. He only had a few friends as making friends was a difficult task. Rhysand then came to mind. He remembered how Rhysand would find him everytime he had time to. He taught him fighting techniques that were native to Illyrians. They ate, drank, hunted, trained, laughed, and fought together. He even made wrote him letters, poems, and limericks. A memory played in his mind where the two were away from the war camps. Tamlin was resting on a tree as he played the fiddle and Rhysand rested his head upon his lap. Not that he minded. It didn't mean anything.

But their fathers ruined it and for what? A insipid rivalry?

Inside of him, Tamlin felt a small sense of hope that one day, they would reconcile. He was a fool to think it.

Rhysand was a winged insect (quite literally) while Tamlin was a funeral pyre. Sadness and anger crackled and twisted like flames within him.

A deep breath in and a deep breath out. Tamlin felt a heavy weight lift from his chest. Something in him stirred. Feelings and emotions.

Not the negative ones he grown accustom to but something new.

Hope.

It was the breath of fresh air that he needed.

Out of all of the Seasonal Courts, Tamlin assumed Spring wasn't all that important compared to Winter, Autumn, and especially Summer. But he was wrong.

Spring was life coming back into the lands and blossoming hope all around.

Summer, in many eyes, was the best season. A season of light, warmth, adventure, and happiness. But when Summer retreated, Autumn took its place. Leaves began to fall and colors changed from bright to dark, the temperatures cooled down and people would soon harvest for Winter was coming.

With Winter, brought the death of nature. The most deadliest season of them all. The night-darkness, would come earlier than before. Many things would come to an end but it wouldn't be forever. Celebrations would be held during the season; for family, for loved ones, for surviving another terrible winter, and a new year approaching.

And with this new year, things would change yet again. The snow will melt, the ice will thaw, and winter would bow as Spring came into blossom.

"For you." Tamlin broke from his thoughts to see Andras holding a rose in his hands. "Be careful of the thorns." He took the rose without worry. Not fearing if thorns would cut him.

"I love you, thorns and all." were the words he once said to Feyre. Who would he say the words to now? He had no lover. But he had himself.

"I love you, thorns and all." Tamlin said to himself, in the back of his mind.

He was not a monster.

He was no villain.

And until that day comes when he could prove it, he would work and work.

He would not spend his immortality in rage.

He would not let anger consume him, control him.

Until the light in his eyes shined brighter than a thousand suns.

Until he could love himself.

Until the day that he could look into a mirror, smile, and know that he was a lovely reminder of how beautiful change could be.

Until he was the true High Lord of the Spring Court once again.

(This is my first writing piece that I've shown people so I hope you'll enjoy or like it. His family never got names so these are my names for them. Lysander just fits Tamlin; It means "Liberator" or "Freedom".)

(THIS FEELS LIKE SHIT, UGH!!)

(Wait, would this be a Tamlin X Andras? I swear I didn't mean for that. AND YES, I REFERENCED TAKE ME BACK TO EDEN! IT'S A KICKASS SONG!)

@viktoriaashleyyx here's that add, hope you like it👍🏾

[lua-magic]

Retro planets and Rahu secrets in astrology.

Alot has been told and written about retro planets, but today I am mentioning, past life secrets of your retro planets and your purpose of birth.

Planets when they come extremely near to earth, they appear retro or appear as if moving towards the earth rather than going far away.

Astrological significance of retro planets are that they represents your "past life mistakes"that you must solve, in order to come out of matrix or illusion if this world otherwise you would keep repeating same pattern and get stuck, till you choose a different outcome.

Sound like movie script right? But, it is truth, retro planets would create same situation and same condition in your life, which you have gone through in your past life, but you did huge mistake, and you took this birth to correct it.

So more or less you will face same pattern in your life, but you have to make a different choice this time.

Retro planets also create the obsession, because it has will power to break the pattern, but problem is that we don't remember our past life, so though the knowledge is stored inside us, we don't believe ourselves and keep looking for solution outside, ie it gives obsession to break free.

You could also take Rahu as retro planets, but not ketu, a ketu is detachment and liberation but rahu is obsession.

So, Rahu and retro planets would give same results..

You need to channelise the energy of retro planets or Rahu in your chart, because rahu is sudden burst of energy.

Two simple ways to channelise are

Realisation: Best remedy of retro planets are realisation, go back in past, and understand mistakes you did, for example "do you have pattern of hurting someone by your words continuously"?

Or do you have constant habbit of blaming others for your present circumstances?

Next is Gratitude, retro planets would give you obsession, hence native lacks gratitude, because they fail to notice the small pleasures and blessings of life.

Example, do you thank universe or the god, when you get money or dinner invitation, or go on a long trip unexpectedly?

As, native would get obsessed with someone or something so much, that they tend to ignore the present and stay in past or in same situation and not feel grateful about good things that is universe is giving them.

Till you learn these lessons, universe will keep you stuck in a same situation, till you let go your obsession completely..

Retro planets (or Rahu)

First house: You have done mistakes regarding your attitude, ignored your personality, and your consciousness.

Second house: You have done mistakes regarding your family and money related issues.

Third house You have done mistakes, regarding your own siblings, your own behaviour (as third house is subconscious mind) .

Fourth house: You have done mistakes regarding, peace of mind, either you have hurt lot of people, or you have destroyed your own house or someone's house, land or property.

Fifth house, You have done mistakes regarding to children, learning and education.

Sixth house You have probably picked up fights with lot of people unnecessary, or made lot of enemies unknowingly.

Seventh house, you have done mistakes regarding your relationships, and your partner, your partner could be life partner or buisness partner.

Eighth house, You have used your occult knowledge and powers to hurt someone, or for your own benifits, or you have done something wrong with your extended family members, ie In laws. Probably, you had lot of secrets and sexual desires which made you to do lot of mistakes.

Ninth house you have done mistakes regarding to your own religion, or you failed to understand the higher and spiritual knowledge. Probably, you insulted guru or teachers in you past life.

Tenth house Probably, you did lot of mistakes regarding your profession and had wrong attitude towards your seniors or superiors.

Eleventh house 🏠

Probably you did something wrong with your friends or regarding the gains, or cheated someone in past life.

Twelfth house Probably you overindulged in bed pleasures, didn't pay attention to your own mental health and spirituality.

Jupiter retro: No patience toward knowledge, guru, or teachers, you want immediate knowledge and don't usually trust one person, and keep looking for knowledge outside.

Saturn retro You in general lack patience, as Saturn represents patience, You look for immediate gratification without putting hard work or efforts.

Mercury retrograde You lack patience regarding communication, and can easily hurt someone from your speech, you are also careless with your documents and paper work.

Venus retro You are careless about your money matters and relationships.You easily break or hurt or leave them, you jump into sexual or physical pleasures quite fast.

Mars retro: You are careless about your own anger issues, and body, you don't channelise the power and passion inside you for the benifits of others