#don't expect abnormalities to kill it

[review-anon]

I know little red is still around, maybe you guys could find and ask her? I am sure that red hooded mercenary would help out, or at least try. - Abno anon

That's all well and good but we don't even know where she even is!

Wait is that a woman in a red cloak and hood?

HHEEYYYYYY WOMAN IN RED CLOAK OVER HERE!

*The woman clearly heard them and came over*

Little Red Riding Hooded Mercenary: What's with all the screaming over here?

Hey you can kill shit right? Well there's something we really need fucking dead right now.

Little Red Riding Hooded Mercenary: As long as you pay me good, I will kill this thing you request, what is it?

Well Sonia and Fuyuhiko you guys are wealthy so you can bill the cost, right?

Indeed, there is a vile monster born from a foul liquid in that room and its harming two people now, its immune to most normal weapons that's why we cannot go in there...can you kill it?

Little Red Riding Hooded Mercenary: Oh so its one of THOSE creatures isn't it? Annoying bastards...but I will be sure to put them to rest.

*Little Red Riding Hooded Mercenary swings the door wide open and with a yell of "Eat lead bitches" fires her machine gun with reckless abandon into the room*

ARGGGHHH!!! Who's shooting like a madman in here?

I-I don't have nine lives here!

*The more slowly grow inhuman fake David looks down to see his body is ridden with bullet holes* Well that was just rude. *The holes immediately close up*

Oh lookie here its one of those freaks running around, and who are you supposed to be? Some edgy Little Red Riding Hood?

Little Red Riding Hooded Mercenary: You have a healing factor...like HE does...

Ooooo are you referring to your furry friend; the Big Bad Wolf?

Little Red Riding Hooded Mercenary: *Her one eye starts to glow yellow* What did you just say?

You know...I always found it silly humans feared wolves so much, sure a pack is dangerous but the one in the fairytale is a lone wolf, which doesn't exist in nature.

A wolf that cannot work with others is worthless...and no wonder they die so easily...no if you want to strike fear into humans...you need to take on another apex predator, one that doesn't fear anything...one that can hold a grudge and chases you to the end of the earth....

What I am trying to say is you should fear the TRUE king of the Jungle...the Tiger...

*The Fake David starts to bubble and melt as the humanoid body starts to morph into something...inhuman...more animalistic...and much much bigger...*

No.....

What's going on Nico? Do you know what is happening?

....That monster in the Medical Bay, it got that form from feeding off Kyoji's negative emotions...and yet we have another monster but nobody who's bad thoughts have been fed on...

Or at least I thought...but there is ONE other person who has been infected with Void Juice for a long time...enough for a form to be forged from it...

However...I cannot say this person is actually a human.

N-Nico? Are you saying that this other form came from-?

*Eventually the creature shaped into a more animal like shape, one that is very familar as it looks like a fully grown Sumerian Tiger, abet one with very pale fur however there is some very off features to it. Firstly the stripes on its body are actually dark purple inky tentacles that are fully capable to being used as ones, its mouth is impossibly wide and the ink is massively concentrated around the eyes which are now a piercing yellow colour, and lastly its much much larger then a normal tiger being more akin to the size of a bear*

Little Red Riding Hooded Mercenary: *Loads up the shotgun* Well aren't you going be nice to look at as a display when I cut off your head?

T-This...cannot be...is this monster based off Sawa's own inner demons and regrets?

...I'm afraid so.

*The Tiger Monster chuckled loudly and lunged at Little Red Riding Hooded Mercenary while she is firing bullets into it...and them not having any effect on it*

[hetchdrive]

Wilson suffering from eldest daughter syndrome is even less surprising than the reveal several seasons ago that House was abused as a kid. Like yeah you two have entirely predictable Formative Traumas for the personalities you have.

[cece693]

You're Just Jealous of Me

pairing: the salvatore brothers x male reader tags: reader knows he's manipulative and a slut, you just don't care tbh, Elena has an aneurysm from not being the main character, the brothers know they're getting played, you're just that hot/beautiful/perfect for them to give you up, Elena bashing, no incest

"I can't believe you." Elena exclaimed, her eyes growing misty as you were getting ready to head out with Damon on a date. It hadn't even been a week since they broke up (something about her needing stability or some other bullshit) and you didn't care. All that mattered was getting through yet another 'poor me' moment without killing her and making it seem like an accident.

Seriously, what did your sister expect? That Damon was going to stay single for the rest of his days until she made a fucking choice between him and Stefan? Perhaps some of her betrayal stemmed from the fact that Stefan had also rejected her ass and had made it clear he didn't feel anything for her anymore. So now poor Elena had no one while you played with both brothers.

And it wasn't even 'playing' per se if they knew about the whole situation. You could fuck any of them, and they'll be fine with it—a thing you made clear to them when this whole thing started. You liked both brothers, but having to choose just one was unfair—they both had traits that attracted you, and if you couldn't have both, then you'll settle for nothing. Like eager children they agreed. The arrangement was abnormal to others, but for you it worked—you dated both brothers, they still hated each other (entertaining fights arising from their competitiveness on who you liked more, who was 'rocking' your world, etc.) Simple really.

"Save the tears for the pillow, sister. I’m really not in the mood—nor will I ever be—to entertain your pity parties." Pulling on one of Damon’s leather jackets, you smirked. You were a sight to behold—not only would Damon be eager to rip the clothes off you, but half the population would, too.

It was fun stirring the pot, watching Damon bare his teeth at anyone who thought they stood a chance. Jealousy was his kryptonite, and while a part of you hated targeting one of his insecurities, you always reassured him in bed of your devotion, loyalty, and love.

Yes, because at the end of the day, you loved both Salvatore brothers. This wasn't just some passing fantasy, nor was it some revenge scheme against your sister (though you did love tormenting her with the fact that you were dating the two). You were willing to throw away your human life to become a vampire—to spend eternity by their side.

"Why are you doing this to me? What have I ever done to cause this!" Now there was the Elena you knew all too well—the one who constantly placed themselves as the victim, putting blame unto you because who could ever hate a girl who lost her parents?

You let out a humorless laugh, crossing your arms over your chest. “You really want to go there?” you snap, not bothering to hide the derision in your voice. “Fine. For starters, you’ve always made Jeremy and me feel like shit, and the few times you did act like a decent human being were just so you didn’t look like a total bitch.”

“That’s not true!” she protests, anger tightening her features.

“It is, Elena,” you spit back. “When our parents died, you didn’t do a damn thing to help us cope. You were so wrapped up in your own grief, your own fucking melodrama, that you never once checked on Jeremy or me—unless, of course, it was to nag us about how we were coping. When Jeremy started doing drugs, you freaked the fuck out. Not because you cared, but because you were afraid of how it might make you look. God forbid anyone sees that the 'perfect' Elena Gilbert can’t keep her family together or help her brother kick his drug habit.”

She flinches, but you weren't done. Oh, no. You were just beginning to go down the list of why you hated her ass. "Then, when I began to hook up with Damon, you acted like I was the cause of our parents death—no, that's on you because Elena couldn't help herself and got drunk, needing a ride home at midnight. Sleeping with Damon was like I'd personally betray you."

Her cheeks flush crimson. “Well, you did! You—”

“I did what, Elena?” You take a step forward, towering over her. “I moved on? Found something that might actually make me happy? Meanwhile, you’ve been stringing both Damon and Stefan along for God knows how long. You made your choice—you dumped Damon, tried getting back with Stefan, when he told you to fuck off, you tried going back to Damon and he said the same thing. So now you’re standing here, arms crossed, lip trembling, trying to put the blame on me because you lost your backup plan.”

Her lips press into a thin line, eyes brimming with tears. But you’ve seen this act before—she’ll blink prettily, glance away like a wounded animal, and wait for you to console her. Only this time, you won't.

“You are an asshole,” she hisses, eyes narrowed into slits. “He was mine first.”

That makes you laugh, a harsh sound echoing off the hallway walls. “Right...possessive much? People aren’t property, Elena. He’s not a damn handbag you lend out when it suits you. If Damon wants to be with me, that’s his call. And if I want to keep him, that’s mine.”

She trembles, either from anger or heartbreak—you can’t tell, and frankly, you don’t care. “Why would you do this?” she asks again, her voice cracking. “What have I ever done—”

You rolled your eyes so hard you got a slight headache. "Did you even listen to me? I have every reason to hate you, so does Jeremy and the rest of Mystic Falls. Those who continue to stand by you are either stupid or hope they'll get some attention from your desperate ass. I'm done. I’m done letting you guilt-trip me. I’m done tiptoeing around your precious feelings. I’m fucking over it, Elena.”

Just then, Damon appears in the doorway, that trademark smirk on his face. “Ready?” he asks, taking in the tension between you two. His gaze flicks to the tears glistening in her eyes before returning to you. “I’m guessing we’re skipping the family therapy session?”

“Therapy? More like the mandatory guilt trip, which I’ve politely declined.”

Elena’s voice wavers, “Damon, how can you just—”

He cuts her off with a raised hand, posture casual but his eyes dangerously dark. “Stop, Elena. What we had is over. You made that choice before, remember? I’m done letting you waltz in and out of my life whenever it’s convenient for you.” You can practically feel the hatred radiating off her in waves. She’s not used to being shut down, especially not by Damon, the semi-reformed bad boy who once hung on her every word. It must sting. Oh, well. Her loss.

“As much as I loved talking to you, sister, I do believe we're running late. Don't wait up and please, if you're going to continue crying, leave my room. Keep wallowing if you want. Hell, cry yourself a fucking river. Just don’t stain my carpet.” Without another glance at Elena, you brush past Damon, and he steps aside for you to lead. He follows, closing the door behind you both, leaving your sister alone in her silence.

You descend the porch steps and greet the night air with a sigh of relief, reveling in the silence that isn’t tainted by Elena’s incessant whining. Damon slips an arm around your shoulders, guiding you toward his car parked beneath a streetlamp. His touch is warm, confident—like he’s proud of the chaos you’ve left behind.

“She’ll get over it,” he says, glancing at you with one of those trademark smirks that used to make Elena weak at the knees. Now, it just fuels your own sense of dark satisfaction.

“She’d better,” you mutter. “I’m not putting up with her drama anymore. If she wants to play the victim, she can do it alone. I’ve got better things to do.”

Damon’s grin widens. “That’s the spirit. So, where are we headed, anyway? We never actually nailed down the specifics.”

You shrug, placing an arm around his waist and snuggling closer to his side. “Anywhere but here. Got a craving for something stiff—drink or otherwise.” The innuendo doesn’t slip past him. His eyes flash with interest, and you can’t deny that thrill you get from watching Damon Salvatore light up over you instead of your sister.

“Sounds like the Grill for starters,” he suggests with a casual tilt of his head. “They might have a halfway decent bourbon I can drown myself in. As for the ‘otherwise,’ well…” He lets the sentence hang, the possibility of later events sparking arousal for the both of you.

You’re about to respond when you spot Stefan leaning against Damon's Camaro. Typical. Even without super-hearing, you know he’s probably caught every word you exchanged with Elena. Damned vampires. "What are you doing here?" Damon was the first who spoke, hand tightening over your body. As if he was a child preventing his favorite toy to be taken away from him.

"Nothing, really. I was just walking around the neighborhood and saw your car parked. But now that I see you're here with my boyfriend, I guess I have time to join you two at the grill."

"Our boyfriend."

You simply laugh at Stefan’s innocent tone, shaking your head at the absurdity of it all. Just a few minutes ago, you were telling off Elena and storming out of the house. Now you’re pinned between two vampires—both of whom are technically yours, and you are theirs. Welcome to the wonderful, fucked-up world of Mystic Falls.

“‘Our’ boyfriend,” you echo, looking from Stefan to Damon. “Are you two seriously going to argue semantics right now? Pick a damn fight over who saw me first?” A scoff escapes you as you shrug off Damon’s possessive grip just enough to stand on your own. You’re not some chew toy they get to tug-of-war over.

Stefan cocks a brow, his expression cool but laced with a hint of smugness. “I’m not here to fight,” he says, his gaze flicking to Damon. “Just wanted to make sure I wasn’t excluded. Last time I checked, this was a joint arrangement.”

Damon’s jaw clenches. Clearly, he remembers crashing your date with Stefan last week—and how you’d had to smooth over the tension in ways that involved very little clothing and a lot of apologizing on his part. “We’re not excluding you, Saint Stefan. But we do have plans that don’t involve your pensive brooding.”

Stefan straightens, crossing his arms over his chest. “Oh, so your plan is to get drunk at the Grill and then…whatever else…” He waves a hand dismissively, “doesn’t appeal to me?” He tilts his head in mock curiosity. “You sure about that?”

You snort. “Children, please. If you both really wanted to rip each other’s heads off, you’d have done it ages ago. Let’s just go. All this talk is making my head hurt.”

Damon lets out a dramatic sigh, rolling his eyes. “Fine. But if Stefan starts preaching about morality or—God forbid—Elena, I’m leaving him to pay the tab.”

Stefan’s smirk grows. “I’d pick a better conversation starter than Elena, trust me.”

You give an unimpressed half-smile. “Don’t even mention her name. As far as I’m concerned, she doesn’t exist unless she’s blocking my path to a stiff drink.”

That shuts both of them up. They exchange a quick glance—some silent vampire communication or whatever—then Damon jerks his head toward the passenger door. “Shotgun’s yours,” he says to you, ever the gentleman when it comes to seating. To Stefan, he adds begrudgingly, “Guess you can squeeze into the back...or the trunk.”

Stefan’s lip twitches like he’s fighting off a retort, but he says nothing. Instead, he silently moves to the rear door. You can’t help but grin. It’s absurd that they both share you yet still bicker like five-year-olds over the smallest shit. But hey, maybe that’s part of the charm.

Once inside Damon’s Camaro, you sink into the leather seat, adjusting your legs as you feel Stefan’s presence behind you. The tension is thick—crackling with desire, frustration, and that constant competition. You kind of love it. Damon revs the engine, and the car peels away from the curb.

“Any chance we can make this a quick pit stop at the Grill?” you say, your gaze shifting between them. “I need something to eat, maybe a drink or two, but I’m not really in the mood to fraternize with the entire damn town.”

Damon flicks you a sidelong glance. “Someone’s impatient. Looking to skip straight to dessert, sweetheart?”

A grin tugs at your lips. “I’d just rather not get cornered by whichever idiot wants the latest gossip on Elena’s meltdown.”

Stefan leans forward, resting his forearms on the front seats. “We can be in and out in under thirty minutes. Grab some wings, maybe a bourbon—or three—and leave.” He lowers his voice suggestively. “After that, I wouldn’t mind some privacy.”

Damon makes a sound of reluctant agreement. “Deal. But don’t whine when you realize your tolerance is way lower than mine, Brother.”

Stefan just smirks. “Don’t worry about me, Damon. Worry about yourself.”

The quick banter settles into a charged silence as the lights of Mystic Falls blur by. The neon sign of the Grill soon comes into view, and Damon maneuvers into a parking spot with practiced ease.

“Let’s get this over with,” you mutter, pushing the car door open. “I’m not about to waste my entire night entertaining half-drunk townspeople.”

Stepping onto the sidewalk, you can already see a few familiar faces through the window—Caroline, Matt, maybe Tyler. You can’t be bothered to care. The only drama you want tonight is the kind that ends in moans, not tears. And if Elena hasn’t slithered over here yet, you might just get your way.

Damon slides an arm around your waist possessively again, and Stefan eyes the gesture with an annoyance that’s as old as time. You sigh inwardly. No matter how many times you remind them you belong to both, they still can’t help but try to stake their separate claims. Vampire pride, maybe.

As you head inside, the ambient chatter and smell of bar food envelop you. A few heads turn—this is Mystic Falls, after all, and you’re making a very public entrance with both Salvatores. Let them stare. Let them talk.

“Your usual table?” Damon asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes,” you say. “Let’s just grab a seat and order. I’m fucking starving.”

The three of you slip into a booth. Damon slides in beside you, Stefan on the opposite side. A cute server looks mildly flustered as she hands out menus. You can see her eyes flick between Damon and Stefan, likely recalling the messy history each has with Elena. If she notices you’re with them in a more intimate sense, she doesn’t comment. Probably for the best.

“So,” Damon says, flipping open the menu, “bourbon and wings? Or do we want to start with something stronger?”

Stefan doesn’t bother with the menu. “I’ll have what you’re having,” he says with a forced casualness, drumming his fingers on the table. He’s clearly aware eyes are on you three. You can practically feel the tension rolling off him—like he’s waiting for the next potential disaster.

You roll your eyes at the both of them. “Bourbon’s fine. Then if someone pisses me off, we can move on to whiskey shots until I forget this entire night.”

Damon flashes that trademark smirk. “You, pissed off? Shocking.”

Stefan snorts, finally cracking a faint smile. “I’m sure we’ll manage to avoid any drama.”

A short, barking laugh leaves you. “In this town? With the three of us in the same damn booth? Doubtful.”

But you push aside the building dread. Because at least you’re here on your terms, Elena’s sob story is miles away, and you have both Salvatores at your side—bickering, sure, but ultimately yours. And that realization, twisted as it might be, makes a satisfied grin curl your lips. With a raised brow, you signal the server for your order. Let the vultures talk, let Elena sulk. You’ve got bigger, better things to do tonight—and two vampires to do them with.

“Bring on the bourbon,” you say, leaning back. “I’ve got all fucking night.”

[icantbelieveitsnotbutler]

Prince Soma's Future in the Manga

Manga spoilers.

The last time we saw Soma, he had killed or seriously injured three grown men.

While we've seen his athleticism demonstrated in cricket matches and been told he knows traditional Indian martial arts, this seems beyond the abilities of the Soma we've known so far.

Even within the same fight, just one of his assailants was enough to overpower him.

Something else about Soma has changed as well. He now cries tears of blood.

We've only seen Agni do this, on two occasions, when he was extremely distressed about Soma.

This isn't a weird quirk Toboso has given her Indian characters. Agni has cried regular tears and so has Soma, even after Agni's death.

I believe that these blood tears were caused by the same thing that gives these characters their abnormal strength. In the Black Butler universe, characters can enter a sort of trance state which gives them superhuman strength.

Agni was able to access this state through his faith and devotion to Soma.

But prior to this scene, Soma has never been able to access that strength, despite his love and trust in Agni. It isn't until Agni, or what's left of him, is in danger, that Soma can reach that elevated state.

Minutes before Agni's death, Soma expressed to him his wish to become strong for Ciel, to become his "Agni."

It isn't until Agni is in danger and no longer able to protect himself that Soma becomes able to access the Samadhi state. In that moment he becomes Agni's protector, his "Agni."

Although we haven't seen him for a while, I don't think Soma is going to disappear permanently from the narrative. He's going to want revenge on the people he thinks killed Agni: Ciel and Sebastian. Sebastian can easily protect his master from Soma, even if he has superhuman strength. But if he doesn't expect that strength, Soma might be able to hurt Ciel before Sebastian realizes he's changed, and it will be a lot worse than the single punch he got in last time.

[moontyun]

Ateez: The type of...

☆ ateez masterlist ☆ ...partner ☆ requested? no ☆ genre: fluff, attempted humor, slight angst ☆ warning(s): jealousy, mentions of food, mentions of murder(?), mentions of bug death:( ☆ requests are open!

៚ Seonghwa

loves to spend quality time with you

building legos together is what he loved to do best with you

Music played softly in the background, lights were so bright it looked like a surgery suit. He was super focused on the project at hand. His glasses slipping off of his face, as he put the pieces together and read the directions. You sat next to him, putting your own little piece of the set together. It was peaceful, an absolute fun night for the two of you.

៚ Hongjoong

obviously the jealous type

writes you little love songs in his spare time at work

It was late at night, you hadn't expected to stay this late with him at the studio. You were here to drop off his dinner but then he started to ask for your input on some of the things he had been working on. "Okay, I'm going to play you something. It's a bit cheese-y but I want your opinion on it." You agreed as he played the song. Slowly it clicked with you that it was about you. You pouted cutely when it was finished and told him how much you adored it.

៚ Yunho

loves to match with you but in a more show-y way

gets upset when you don't match with him but tries not to show it

Today was your three year anniversary with Yunho. He wanted you to wear matching neon pink t-shirts with flowers all over it. It was the ugliest thing you had ever seen in your life. You had told him you didn't want to wear it because it wasn't up to dress code for where you two were going. His feelings were clearly hurt, but he agreed not to wear it. You cupped his face, "We can wear them to the beach tomorrow when we meet my parents, okay?" His face lit up, clearly okay with it.

៚ Yeosang

packs your lunch, leaving you little notes telling you to have a good day

expects you to call him every day when you get off of work, no matter how late it is for him.

Today, you had the day off. All day you had been lazing around the house, not really doing much of anything. But now, lunch time had come and you were starving. You opened the refrigerator to see a box of tupperware with a little sticky note attached to it. Immediately, you knew Yeosang packed you something to eat. Pulling it out, you read the note. He wished you a good day and that he loved you, as well as to call him while you were eating. He wanted to have lunch with you but couldn't physically be there. He was the absolute best!

៚ San

cuddle bug galore

follows you everywhere you go because he hates being away from you for longer than 10 minutes

"-and so, he told me to kill the bug. I told him hell no!" He had been telling this little story for about five minutes now as you showered with the occasional "mmhmm", "Oh" every couple of minutes to let him know he was being listened to. You were used to him following you everywhere. He was always following you into the bathroom, the store, wherever you were he was there. So him sitting on the toilet, while you showered was not abnormal for the two of you. It was a cute way to show he loved you and wanted to spend all his time with you.

៚ Mingi

you need to reassure him a lot

needs to be cuddled every night before bed

Mingi had been mopey the whole evening. He was laying around, wrapped up in a blanket like a burrito. You having just walked through the apartment door, noticed this. "What's wrong, princess?" you asked, immediately. He didn't say anything but buried himself deeper into the blanket. You waltzed over to him and threw yourself on him, moving the blanket from his face, peppering his face in kisses. "You didn't answer my question earlier." You had to think back, he did text you a question. "Oh! I got busy helping my mom. I'm sorry, baby." He nodded his head, "Just let me know next time please?" he pleaded. You hugged him tighter, "I will, I'm sorry!"

៚ Wooyoung

jealous when someone starts to get too close to you

loves to ramble on and on about his day to you, because he loves having your feed back

You knew this guy had been trying to hit on you all night and you were getting to the point of just throwing a drink in your face. You and Wooyoung kept moving away from him but the guy wouldn't get it. "Should I just kill him? Can I?" You laughed a little. "Let him have it, babe." You said. Wooyoung got close to the guy, "I'm their partner. Get lost." The guy backed off and you hadn't seen him since.

៚ Jongho

always stays on the side closest to the street

protective over you

The first time he did it, it spooked you a little because he switched sides so suddenly. He pushed you to the other side gently, so he could walk along side you. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion as you continued to telling your story. "And so, she was li- I'm sorry, can I ask why you did that?" You asked halting your story. He laughed a little, "Making sure your safe and a car doesn't hit you." Your face flushed, none of your exes had ever done that. Ever since then, he's done it every time you guys were out walking.

[sylvia-plaths-fig-pie]

The night we met ♡ Sam Winchester

As a young girl it was drilled into you to never be alone in the woods.

As a woman the same sentiment was echoed.

But as a hunter, you found that that warning couldn't be one that you listened to. For the sole reason of what if there was a young girl or a woman in the woods at the mercy of the very things that you were trained to hunt. Trained to kill.

You'd been a hunter for as long as you could remember, grew up on the road with your mother. Never went to a real school or met anyone your age. It was just the two of you.

Untill it wasn't.

One particularly bad hunt with a nest of vamps left you to mourn the loss of your mother, and you were alone.

And that's how you stayed.

That's how you liked it.

Sure you came into contact with men, it was always men, who thought they knew more or were better than you. But you were still standing, and they, well they were not.

Life expectancy wasn't particularly high in your line of work, it would be a miracle of you made it to your 30th birthday. It seemed that hunters either died young or seemed to live forever. You didn't know what was worse.

That being said, the earlier option seemed very likely right about now.

You were alone in the woods, in a deep fog, after killing three vamps.

It was dark and there was probably other creatures lurking in the shadows, knowing your luck there would be a vamp nest right around the corner.

What made matters worse is that the exit wasn't exactly clear. You'd lost your map, couldn't hear a road, and (rather inconveniently) there was no sighn posts anywhere.

All you could do is walk in a straight line and hope that you were going in the right direction.

Hope.

You knew the irony.

Hope wasn't worth much. Hope was a damn sure way to get yourself killed. Hope was for young girls who wished on stars, but after learning the myths behind them you had lost faith even in the night sky.

Hope wasn't somthing you would bet your life on, yet you had no choice. It was better than a prayer you supposed.

Suddenly you became aware that your footsteps weren't the only noise in the darkness. There were voices.

Two distinct low voices. Voices of men. Why was it always men?

Familiar warnings rang through your head. You knew it wasn't just monesters you were to be afraid of, sometimes there are more sinister things that lurked in the darkness. Sometimes death wasn't the worst fait to face.

Your hand griped tighter around your knife, your free hand rested on top of your gun.

The voices stopped after a rush of feverish whispers.

You were going to do something stupid.

"Who's there?" You shouted, trying to sound as stoic as possible. If they didn't know you were there they sure did now, along with anything else lurking in the shadows. It really was a stupid decision, but making stupid decisions was part of the job description and it had gotten you this far, or at least you were still alive to tell the tale.

"I'm armed and you've lost the element of surprise so why don't you do us both a favour and stop hiding!" You shouted once more, slightly more urgently this time, even you could hear the slight panic in your own voice.

A tall figure emerged from the shadowy fog, arms raised in surrender. He was tall, almost abnormally so. 'Go for the legs if necessary' you mentally told yourself, just incase he want so friendly. He took slow, purposeful steps towards you in an attempt not to frighten you, you appreciated the gesture but it did nothing to settle your concern.

As he drew closer you could look him in the eyes. And that's exactly what you did. His eyes were Hazel, almost green with a touch of gold with a sense of softness and sensitivity about them. It felt like you were reading a book, being continually drawn in till you don't even rember who you were before you picked it up. Looking at him gave you a sense of comfort you hadn't expericed before on the road. It was nice. It was terrifying.

You cursed yourself for staring too long.

"Who are you?" You questioned, bringing the tip of your knife to rest against the base of his neck, the blood from the vamps, which still coated the blade, sticking slightly to his neck. He stopped in his tracks, his arms still up in surrender.

He looked unfazed, he looked as though he understood.

"My name is Sam winchester and I'm a-" he began but you cut him off, realisation hitting you.

"Winchester? Where's your brother?" You asked lowering your knife. You knew they hunted together, and you didn't want to be ambushed unwittingly my the other.

"Hi sweetheart." Another figure said as he sauntered out of the thick trees.

You rolled your eyes at his remark, making a menal note to stay clear of him if your able to.

You could tell that the one that approached you was the younger of the two, Sam as he introduced himself, the boy with deamon blood, or at least he was.

Meaning that the older of the two, and shorter, was Dean who, unsurprisingly, greeted you slightly condescendingly.

You turned your attention back to the brunette just as he began to speak.

"Wait how do you-?" He asked suddenly, slightly confused but also a hit of relief in his voice.

"Bobby is aways talking about you boys, I mean every hunter knows about you and your serious fuck ups, but Bobby keeps saying I should catch you boys and work with you or whatever but-" you rambled on before the younger winchester cut you off.

"You know Bobby?"

"Everyone knows Bobby."

"Wait so you must be-"

He was about to say your name before, who you assumed to be Dean, cut him off.

"Yes yes nice to meet you and whatever but Sammy and I have more pressing issues to attend to." He said with a wave of his hand ushering his brother over. Only Sam didn't move. His eyes were still fixed on yours. Your eyes still on him.

"I killed the three vamps if that's what you're doing out here." You commented, directing your answer to Sam.

He furrowed his brown in confusion.

"Three?" He asked, slightly taken aback.

"Yeah?" You responded, worry consuming you. You didn't miss one did you? You didn't make a mistake, did you? Everything was so matriciously planned out surely you couldn't have-

"We thought it was just a brother and a sister." Sam interrupted your thoughts, placing a strong hand on your shoulder. He clearly read the panic on your face, it was like he'd known you your whole life. His hand on you seemed to ground you, help you think, but it made you feel almost dizzy. It was an unfamiliar feeling, a feeling you weren't sure if you liked it or not. Regardless of the fact you relished in his touch as you composed yourself enough to explain what you knew.

"No they were hunting with their father, it seemed like this town was their first solo hunts, but it all lead back to him."

Sam finally turned away, his hand falling from your shoulder to look at Dean, in response he simply nodded his head to the side. There was some sort of unspoken communication between the two.

You felt left out. You longed to know what they were thinking. You specifically longed to know what the taller of the two was thinking.

"You're sure there's no more?" Sam asked as he turned to face you once more.

"I know that there are no more that are killing people in this area, that's good enough for me."

He just nodded in response.

"Well I guess that means we're done here," Dean commented clapping his hands together, "you crazy kids what to get out of here, maybe get some pie-"

"Shut up." You cut him off. It wasn't beacsue you were opposed to getting out of the woods, quite the opposite. But you heard something or at least thought you did.

"Sweetheart, I can tell you like my brother here more than me but there is no need to be-"

"Be quiet." You cut Dean off once more as you strained your ears again, you heard another rustling sound coming from near by. You gripped your knife tighter, your thumb drawing small circles on the hilt.

Turning in the spot to get a better gauge of your surroundings you clocked both of the winchesters expressions, they heard it aswell.

"You said it was a father and his two kids right?" Sam asked poised, now holding a large knife of his own.

"Yeah," you responded in a hushed whisper.

"Any sign of a mother?" He asked hurriedly, voicing the one thing you hoped not to be true.

Shit.

You hoped you would stumble onto another hunter, but you knew this time you wouldn't be so lucky. It had to be the mother and you cursed yourself for mot even considering her.

"Sam-" you began but were quickly cut off by a figure charging from the shadows.

She was fast, but worst of all she was smart. Thats probably why none of you picked up on her.

She launched herself at you first, the well known glint of vengeance alight in her eyes. "You killed them you bitch, you killed them all!" She sceamed in your face as you tried to bring your knife up to decapitate her.

But she was fast and her clawed hand dug into the wrist where your knife was Sam and Dean rushed to your side but they were quickly pushed away, falling on the ground too far away to reach you.

"Was this the blade that killed them?" She asked as you struggled against her, "didn't even have the decency to kill me aswell?"

Blood was gushing from your wrist from her claws as she twisted your own blade towards your chest.

From the corner of your eye you could see Sam pushing himself off the floor, disappearing into the fog.

Logically he was leaving you. He didn't know you. It was in his best intrest to get his brother and go, regroup and hunt tomorrow. You know logically that's what he was doing.

But something inside you told you otherwise. Something in your head was telling you that he was coming for you. That he would save you. That you just needed to stay alive for a few more moments.

It was more than hope that you had. You knew Sam was still there. You knew he wouldn't leave you.

You could feel your knife pressing against your rib cage, you were no where near as strong as her, you tried pushing back with all your might but it was no use.

You felt the blade as it began to draw blood. You felt the pain of the rapidly growing wound. You felt yourself slowing begin to loose grip on the world around you.

"Oh I am going to enjoy watching you die." The vamp said, her words venomous against your ear.

"Not as much as I'll enjoy this." As voice said from behind the vamp.

It was Sam.

Her was there, knife above his head as he swung it round.

The vamp was quick, but she wasn't quick enough to avoid the blow of Sam's knife as he swung it and swiftly decapitated her.

Blood splattered on you as you let out a sigh of relief. Sam was here.

Sam saved you.

Sam winchester saved your life.

You wanted to run to him but the corners of your vision blured. You were dizzy. You couldn't see. You couldn't stand.

"Sam..." you managed to whisper as the world fell from beneath your feet.

You felt two strong hands wrap around you and lower you slowly to the floor. Your head rested against something sturdy, something warm.

"Hey look at me I'm here," a voice said, it was muffled, distant almost.

"You need to just hang on for me, keep your eyes open okay?" The voice asked of you and you nodded or it at least felt like you did. Your vision was blurry but your eyes were open.

"Dean hurry!" Sam shouted, panicked. Sam was holding you. Your head was against Sam's chest and you were resting in his arms.

You tried to sit up but a sharp pain shot throught you. "Shit." You mumbled, you looked down and saw the knife still in you. It was deeper that what you first thought, but it can't have been that bad you could breathe fine, it missed your lung. You were fine, right?

"Sam?" It came out as more of a question, you didn't want to admit it but you were scared.

This is how your mother died in your arms, did she feel like this too? Was she scared? Did she know she was going to die, or did she foolishly think she would live?

"Hey, hey," Sam stroked your hair soothingly, "I'm right here love, I'm not going anywhere okay?" His touched seemed to ground you, soothe you.

"Dean is coming back with medical supply's, your going to be okay."

"Okay." You replied, all you could do was look at Sam. Even when he was blurry he was beautiful. Even when it felt like the world was going dark his eyes were bright as ever.

Thoes were the last things you rember seeing before the world went black, and you finally understood why so many people warned you not go out in the woods alone.

♡♡♡

Anybody want a part 2?

[kikyoupdates]

Otherworldly Attraction ⭑˚🔮⭑ 𝑖𝑛 𝑚𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔

yandere!jjk x f!reader

yandere, reverse harem, isekai, jujutsu kaisen x fem!reader, slowburn, slowburn yandere

You don't know how or why, but you've been isekai'd into the world of Jujutsu Kaisen. Although your first instinct is to stay away from the plot, you've been blessed with an abnormal amount of cursed energy, and for better or worse, you find yourself sucked into the storyline. You decide that you may as well use your newfound powers for the greater good, and if you're lucky, you might succeed in rewriting some of the characters' fates. But it turns out that your presence in this world is an even bigger deal than you first thought, and soon, everyone wants to make you theirs.

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For some reason, you open your eyes and find yourself in Fushiguro’s arms. 

“...ah. You’re awake.” 

His expression is a strange combination of concern and relief. He isn’t carrying you outright. Rather, he’s sitting against the base of a tree and helping cradle your neck on his shoulder so your head doesn’t droop down. Still, you feel the warmth of his touch and how gently his fingertips rest against your skin. The Fushiguro you know would never let you get this close to him. The Fushiguro you know thinks you’re some kind of shameless, braindead pervert. It’s obvious that this isn’t real.

After all, you died. 

The last thing you remember is being struck by the special-grade cursed spirit. Everything went black afterwards. By that point, your body was already mangled beyond repair, and there was no way you could have possibly survived another attack. Not to mention that the pain is gone now, and your injuries have seemingly disappeared. 

You must be in the afterlife right now. Is this heaven? Is that why you’re being granted such a blissful, happy scene? It would certainly explain why Fushiguro is holding onto you so gently. You were terrified of dying, but if these are the kind of moments you now have to look forward to, then maybe it’s not so bad. 

“This is a nice dream,” you sigh happily, wrapping both your arms around Fushiguro and snuggling up even closer to him. You tilt your head so that you can press one of your cheeks against his own, and just like the rest of his body, it feels pleasantly warm. 

It’s strange, though. You figured that, since this obviously isn’t real life, you could construct this reality however you saw fit. If it’s meant to be heaven, then naturally, it means that you’re being granted eternal happiness. This dream should unfold exactly the way you want it to.

And yet, Fushiguro pushes you away in a hurry. 

When you look back at him, his face is violently red.

“D-Don’t do that,” he stammers, looking embarrassed all of a sudden. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay now that you’ve regained consciousness. It wasn’t an invitation to get all handsy with me.”

You blink. He’s not reacting the way you expected. If he’s going to act all embarrassed, why was he holding you in the first place? This is a dream, after all. This is supposed to be the afterlife. A peaceful resting place for deceased souls.

…right? 

“I’m dead,” you blurt, but it sounds less like a statement, and more like a question. You knit your brows together in confusion. “I… was killed by the special-grade curse.”

Fushiguro stares at you. It’s subtle, but his expression softens, ever-so-slightly.

“No. You’re alive. Sukuna saved you. He healed your injuries too. He killed the special-grade curse and escaped from the detention center because Itadori was having trouble switching back. And then… he took Itadori’s body hostage by ripping out his heart.” 

What? Sukuna… really saved me? Like, for real? 

You’re in utter disbelief. When the special-grade curse was about to kill you, Fushiguro and Nobara had yet to escape the building. You never heard Fushiguro’s signal. Itadori was supposed to wait for that signal before swapping with Sukuna, and since the light in your eyes was already fading, naturally, you figured you were a goner. 

Which can only mean that Itadori must have swapped earlier than in canon. Out of sheer desperation to protect you. 

Even so, it’s difficult to believe that Sukuna actually spared your life. Sure, he’s been saying all kinds of creepy shit, like making you his woman or whatever, but at the end of the day, he’s a crazy murderer. He finds tormenting people to be the most enjoyable thing of all. The fact that the King of Curses bothered to go out of his way to keep your life intact…

Honestly, dying might have been more merciful than whatever the hell that sicko has in store for you. 

In any case, now’s not the time for an existential crisis. You should be grateful just to be alive, regardless of what Sukuna’s intentions are with you. You’ll worry about all that later. Right now, something else takes precedence. 

Itadori’s dead body is lying on the ground. 

You instinctively recoil at the sight. You already know he’s not actually dead, and that Sukuna will have no choice but to bring him back, but it still doesn’t make it any easier to stomach. Nobody wants to see their friend’s corpse. You glance away faster than you can even blink, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. 

“He sacrificed himself,” Fushiguro mumbles. His expression is visibly pained, even though he tried to hide behind his stoicism. “He knew he would die after Sukuna ripped out his heart, but he still switched back, to keep Sukuna from hurting anyone else. I knew all along that he would do something like that. I tried to fight Sukuna and pressure him into restoring Itadori’s body back to normal… but obviously, I failed.” 

Poor Fushiguro. He must feel guilty, even though anyone in his place would have been absolutely terrified to go up against the King of Curses. The fact that he lasted long enough to survive is already impressive enough.

You wrap your arms around yourself and look back towards Itadori’s bloody, lifeless body. He lies there amidst puddles formed by the rain, completely unmoving. It’s a painful sight. You’re tempted to avert your eyes again. It doesn’t matter that you already know he’s going to come back. The fact is that when Itadori switched back with Sukuna, he believed he was going to die. And yet he was still able to make such a horrifying, selfless choice, for the sake of everyone else. 

Itadori isn’t dead for good. That much is true. 

But his suffering is only beginning, and that—that is what breaks you. That’s what makes the pain in your chest downright unbearable. That’s what makes more tears form and stream down your cheeks. 

Fushiguro watches you sit there, trembling, as you quietly sob. He valued Itadori’s life, and he genuinely wanted to save him, but that being said, he wasn’t able to shed any tears on his behalf. They hadn’t even known each other for very long. It’s an unfortunate tragedy, without a doubt, but he has no choice but to push forward. 

The same can’t be said for you, though. 

How must you be feeling right now? You were friends with Itadori well before your transfer to Jujutsu High. He’s seen firsthand just how close the two of you were. The life of a jujutsu sorcerer is riddled with danger, but this is all new for you. Up until recently, you were living an ordinary life. You apparently couldn’t even see curses before roughly a few weeks ago.

You must be in an absurd amount of pain right now. He can’t possibly relate, or even understand. And he already knows he’s terrible at comforting people. 

“I’m sorry,” is all Fushiguro can think to say. He knows it won’t do anything to ease your suffering. He knows it’s a shallow gesture at best. 

You sniffle, then turn towards him with puffy, reddened eyes. 

“There’s no need to apologize,” you say, straining a smile. “It’s amazing that you even went up against Sukuna in the first place. You fought to protect Itadori. I’m sure it meant a lot to him. I’m sure he appreciated that you did your best to save him. You have no reason to feel sorry. Please don’t ever blame yourself.”

Fushiguro’s eyes widen. Even in a time like this, you made the effort to smile for his sake. Even though you should feel nothing but bitterness towards him, because he failed to save your dear friend, you’re still bothering to reassure him. Despite the fact that your anguish far outweighs his own.

It’s obvious now that he was too harsh on you from the start. He was far too quick to judge. He perceived you as fickle, thoughtless, not to mention incredibly suspicious. 

But he knows better now. 

You’re kind. And gentle. And much more mature than he first thought. 

Fushiguro really likes those qualities in a person. 

This is so awkward. 

It’s a new day, and you’re back at Jujutsu High, sitting on some steps alongside Fushiguro and Nobara. Suffice to say, the mood is gloomy, and you’re sandwiched in between the two of them as they lament Itadori’s passing.

“He kept telling us to live long lives… but then he went ahead and died himself,” Nobara mutters. 

She was discharged from the hospital quickly enough, and thankfully, her wounds weren’t serious enough to warrant any concern. You were worried that since Fushiguro took longer to get away from the special-grade curse and go save her, she might have gotten hurt more badly this time, but that’s fortunately not the case. In fact, you were hurt the worst out of everyone—not counting Itadori getting his heart ripped out by Sukuna in the end.

Nobara rests her chin on the palm of her hand and glances towards Fushiguro. “Hey, you. Is it your first time having a partner die?” 

“It’s the first time it was someone my age,” Fushiguro replies, staring down at the ground.

“I see.” 

Normally, this is the part where she would make a remark about how well he’s taking the situation, all things considered, but this time, she stops herself. 

On account of the fact that you’re with them. 

“This must be really hard for you,” Nobara mumbles. Her expression and tone of voice are noticeably softer now. “Since the two of you were such good friends. I’m sorry that you have to go through this. It’s messed up.” 

You fidget uncomfortably. Even though you predicted this would be the case, it feels really, really wrong to grieve someone’s death when you know that said person will be coming back to life in due time. You obviously have no choice but to pretend otherwise, but it doesn’t make you feel any less slimy about it. It’s as if you’re making light of their heartache. 

“I… only knew Itadori for a few weeks longer than you guys, so I can’t act like we’d spent our entire lives together or anything.” You pause, pressing your hands together. “Still, I could tell he was a really good guy. I realized that from the moment I met him. I’m just upset that he had to suffer so much. It’s unfair that the world is so cruel to kind-hearted people like him.”

There. You’re not technically lying about what you said. You are upset because of what Itadori’s had to endure—and what he will continue to endure, going forward. These feelings of yours aren’t disingenuous in the slightest. 

Still. You hate having to pretend he’s dead when he’s obviously not. You’re already counting down the days until Itadori comes back and makes his big reveal. 

Anyways, it’s probably about time now, right? Any second now, they should be making an appearance. 

“...what’s this? You’re looking even more glum than usual, Megumi. Is this a wake or something?” 

Cutting through the heavy silence is a girl’s strong, imposing voice, and you already know who it is, well before you even lift your head to look up. 

Fushiguro blinks. “Ah, Zen’in. You’re back.”

“Stop calling me by my last name,” the girl snaps. “You know I hate it when—” 

“Maki, Maki!”

The girl—Zen’in Maki—turns around, where two other students are frantically gesturing to her. Namely, a panda (who is appropriately named Panda), and a comparatively shorter male student with platinum blond hair.

These students are your upperclassmen, the second-years, and you’ve been expecting their arrival ever since you moved to Jujutsu High. 

Anyways, Panda is understandably freaking out because of the tone-deaf comment Maki just made. 

“Someone really did die yesterday!” Panda panics. “One of the first-year boys!”

“Bonito flakes,” Inumaki sighs disapprovingly, clearly emphasizing the gravity of the situation. 

It only takes a second for Maki’s face to go pale as a sheet. 

“Tell me that sooner, you idiots!” she fumes. “Now I look like some kind of heartless, cold-blooded demon!” 

“Well… you pretty much are.” 

“Tuna mayo.”

Their entrance in the story is actually rather comical, considering the morbid circumstances in which they’ve turned up. You watch, struggling to suppress your smile, as all three of them bicker in a loud, obnoxious fashion. You, Fushiguro, and Nobara are supposed to be in mourning right now. Although you suppose this ridiculous scene is meant to be lifting your spirits.

“Who are those guys?” Nobara rudely points, looking far from impressed. 

“The second-years,” Fushiguro replies. “Zen’in is the best of all students at wielding cursed tools. Next to her is the Cursed Speech user, Inumaki. He only speaks using onigiri ingredients. And then there’s Panda. There’s another second-year as well, Okkotsu, who’s the only one I can sincerely respect, but he’s overseas right now.”

“Um. You’re not going to elaborate on the panda named Panda?” 

Nobara is clearly wary of the admittedly odd upperclassmen she’s just been introduced to, but naturally, none of this comes as a shock to you. Even though you’re slowly getting used to meeting more and more characters in the flesh, you still can’t help but feel excited every time it happens. You hope your enthusiasm isn’t stupidly obvious. It’d be weird if you were grinning like a madman right after your friend just died. 

“Sorry for showing up so unexpectedly, especially when you’re in mourning,” Panda apologizes, bringing his hands (or should you call them paws?) together. “The truth is, we actually wanted to speak to you guys about something. We’d like you all to participate in the Kyoto Sister School Exchange Event.”

He’s referring to an event in the future, whereupon the Tokyo and Kyoto branches of Jujutsu High will get together. It’s usually exclusively reserved for second-year and third-year students, but the third-years are currently suspended from school, hence why they’ve asked your group to participate in their place.

“The event has the principals of both Tokyo and Kyoto schools each propose a competition to be held for the day, over the course of two days,” Panda explains. “Well, that’s all on paper, though. Pretty much every year, the first day is a team battle, and the second day consists of individual battles.” 

“Salmon,” Inumaki nods. 

“Individual and team battles?” Nobara blinks. It takes a few seconds for everything to sink in, and suddenly, her eyes widen. “Wait… we’re going to fight?! Against other jujutsu sorcerers?”

Maki grins. “Yeah. It’s a jujutsu battle where anything goes, apart from outright killing each other, of course.

“Don’t worry,” Panda reassures. “We’ll train all of you so that you can hold your own. Just count on us!”

He starts excitedly punching the air, and you have the sudden urge to wrap your arms around him and rub his fuzzy belly. You wonder if he’d let you do that at some point. Knowing him, you think you have a pretty good shot. 

“So?” Maki asks, arching a brow. “You’re gonna participate, right? Do it for your fallen comrade. I’m sure all of you want to get stronger.”

It goes without saying that they’re going to agree. Even Itadori will be there to participate in the event. The first day will be very eventful thanks to a certain cursed spirit attacking… but that’s still a ways off. All you can do is train to prepare yourself and hope you’re strong enough by then to contribute somehow. Maybe, if you play your cards right, it’ll be possible to take down Hanami earlier than in canon. Maybe you can help ensure that the intruders’ losses will be bigger this time around. 

There’s something else that happens before that, though. Something that… you want to avoid at all costs. 

Junpei.

Unless you figure out some way to get involved, Junpei’s death is all but assured. Fushiguro and Nobara weren’t involved in this arc, and Itadori undertook the mission without them knowing he was still alive. Since you’re here with them, and you’re supposed to believe that Itadori is gone, how can you insert yourself in Junpei’s story? How are you meant to increase his odds of survival if you never actually cross paths with him?

It’s not looking good. Your knowledge of the story is next to useless if you aren’t able to actually do something with it. 

Junpei’s story is unbelievably tragic. He should never have gotten caught up in this kind of thing. He should have been allowed to have a normal, happy life. He’d already suffered enough, even before he met Mahito. 

You need to save him. 

Fushiguro glances over at you, frowning slightly. “What’s wrong? You haven’t said anything for a while. Do you not feel like participating in the exchange event?” 

“No, I’ll participate. Sorry. I was just… thinking about something.”

You throw on a quick, reassuring smile. There’s no need to despair. You were brought to this world for a reason. Whether it was the universe’s way of deciding to torment you, or perhaps it was intended as a challenge of sorts, it doesn’t matter. 

Now that you’re here, you sure as hell aren’t going to waste this chance. 

“It’s nice to be officially meeting all of you,” you beam, going around shaking all of the second-years’ hands. You stop in front of Inumaki the longest, struggling to suppress your smile because of how fucking cute he is. He even greets you by saying ‘kelp’, and it’s a miracle you don’t melt right on the spot. 

Fushiguro watches, with a tired expression, as you proceed to fangirl again. Perhaps something isn’t quite right with you after all. It’s very easy to tell who you find attractive, since you’re not exactly being subtle about it. 

Still.

He wonders why it annoys him so much. 

Itadori Yuji is alive. 

Admittedly, when Gojo watched Itadori’s presumed dead body rise up, like something straight out of an exorcism, he was pretty damn shocked. It didn’t take him too long to come to terms with the situation, though. Itadori is Sukuna’s vessel, after all. Sukuna must have decided to restore Itadori’s body, purely for his own sake. 

The higher-ups want Itadori dead. Gojo knew that much from the start. It was nothing short of a miracle that he managed to delay Itadori’s execution, but he should have known that they would cook up a scheme at some point or another. The fact that a group of inexperienced first-years were dispatched to deal with a cursed womb that ended up becoming a special-grade curse… it’s obvious they jumped on an opportunity to get Itadori killed off. 

Fine, then. Since it’s come to this, Gojo has no choice but to keep Itadori hidden. At least for a little while. It’ll be easier if the higher-ups think he’s dead. Gojo can train him in secret in the meantime and help him build up some strength. So that he’ll be better equipped to deal with this kind of thing in the future.

The autopsy report will state that Itadori died from having his heart torn out, just as everyone already presumed. No one could possibly suspect otherwise. 

And yet, here you are, looking up at him with wide, trembling eyes.

“Sensei,” you say, and he watches as you swallow hard, as if choosing your next words wisely. He has no idea what to expect. When it comes to you, he really, truly, doesn’t have a clue how you’ll surprise him next. 

It takes a lot to catch Gojo Satoru off guard, but somehow, you manage to do it every time, without fail. 

“Itadori… isn’t dead. He can’t be. I refuse to believe it.”

Gojo tries—but fails—to hide the smile spreading across his lips. 

You really are a thing of wonder.

More chapters are available on Quotev, Ao3 and Wattpad !

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[ohmyclematis-alwaysbymyside]

part ∞ of me yapping about things I probably should have moved on from years ago. this again applies only to the manga.

dead calm is arguably the most terrifying breathing form ever.

in the anime, they showed giyuu using his blade and the steps which on one hand was nice because of the water effects but it ruined the appeal dead calm had. in the manga, we don't even see him use a sword or put the slightest bit of effort into nullifying rui's blood demon art. he just stands there like a statue and if you really think about it, this is extremely terrifying especially from a demon's pov. no one besides giyuu is capable of using this form which makes it super unpredictable and confusing. imagine you're trying to kill a really sad excuse of a man with your ability and boom! none of your attacks go near him and they just fade away. huh? what's that? nullification? as in nullification ability? as in no longer human -yeah sorry. according to the manga, none of the demon slayers have superpowers and the special effects we see (water, fire, mist, etc) don't actually exist. dead calm almost contradicts that. even though neither the characters or the readers see the attack and it possesses no special effects, it resembles a superpower the most out of every other technique. now we all know that giyuu doesn't actually have superpowers but from the demon's point of view, he might as well does. imagine you see an ordinary human being casually block out every single attack and basically bend the concept of reality without even twitching. along with that, dead calm is like extremely powerful and useful and has proven itself to work really well, even against uppermoons. it blocked almost all of akaza's attacks which even he was super impressed by. only muzan actually manages to get through it. this makes it one of the deadliest and most potent defense techniques in existence. giyuu even managing to create another form for an ancient style is impressive and more difficult than people think it is. we see characters create entirely new breathing styles to suit their abilities multiples times and tanjiro himself states that it's not rare. if creating entirely new breathing styles isn't uncommon, adding just one extra technique to an already existing style should logically be super easy, right? but it isn't. out of everyone in demon slayer, only two characters manage to do that (giyuu/zenitsu). water breathing is the most common breathing style too and it has existed for hundreds of years so you'd expect that at least one person besides giyuu managed to add something. but there isn't. akaza himself states that he hasn't seen a new form for water breathing besides the main ten in his entire life and the manga confirms that only giyuu managed to invent a new form for water breathing. this honestly just shows how talented giyuu really is because god damn. furthermore, the vibe of dead calm perfectly matches with giyuu's character as a whole of looking abnormally serene and peaceful on the surface despite being really dangerous.

dead calm is so cool and here is another panel of giyuu using it to nullify an attack while fighting akaza

[lunaralight09]

Hey! based on the recent 096 thing,, what if you were immortal/immune to abnormal affects/effects? How would SCPs (such as 096, 106, 173, 049, and 035) react?

035

They both like and hate it. I mean if something happens to the host when they're near you, you'll just straight up put them on your face which WILL(probably) result to your death. And they do not want that to happen. And the bad thing... they can't read your mind properly(I mean they're probably interested and invested about what's happening in others life. It's the only good entertainment they can get in here).

Other than that, it's going to just adore you and your immunity to it. Like there weren't anyone who could look at it and not fall for their charm(manipulations), but look at you. Standing there alive and it's not even mad at you! Because it cares about you.

049

Oh it's not really a surprise to him, since there were and are some people that aren't afflicted with the pestilence(aren't dead from his touch). And he doesn't even need to lecture his cured patients about hurting you. They are always so docile with you, not getting rowdy. How convenient.

Before anything he does NOT want you to interact with many people(at all), since... what if they infect you? He won't like to see that, knowing that you're suffering from that wretched disease. But he can't exactly make you stay with him forever. He will hint and/or outright say that you need to stay away from certain people, however it's you decision to listen or not listen. You can make your own decisions. Even if that makes Doctor uncomfortable... with those 'intrusive' thoughts.

096

They are the calmest they have been in their entire existence, while someone looks at their face that is. And that does bring them some sort of comfort knowing that YOU of all creatures aren't going to die from their hands(unless some sort of accident happenS- WHO SAID THAT). The hands that killed too many.

And from those thoughts, the clinging begins. Knowing that you're 100% safe from being mutilated and turned into chunks of meat, they would want to spend a bit more time with you. Following, sitting or laying near you, anything. They are going to love it. The idea of listening to your heartbeat as a comfort thing is perfect for them. Whether they lay on you or you lay or rest on them(just don't forget to breathe).

106

Well That's not interesting(for him). His sadistic side fucking hates it. On one hand he can just grab you and squeeze your neck until you stop moving. But on other hand he (likes)tolerates you enough to not do it. Even if everything in his body tells him to fucking do it. Watch as your little life is slowly taken away from your desperate hands.

He'll more often than not will mostly ignore your presence. Especially if in a room/hallway there's a person(really hurt, showing it or 10-25 year old) and YOU, he'll always choose to go after the first option. And there's a possibility that he bumps into you, it's probably not intentional(i mean do you expect this corpse to walk straight and not bump and hit into things/people?)

173

(173 doesn't really have anomalous effects somewhat similar to other 4. But the best i can go is this):

Having 173 practically ignoring your existence and still moving while you look is.. good? Well for you, that is. You can't help anyone else, it's just a cold lie that you can look while they try to get away or clean the cell.

If you want to know it's thoughts about it. Well I mean it's not often that it has any thoughts(Literally head empty). Thoughts that usually appear are how it's next target's face going to look like as they're getting closer and closer. Oh and how their 'resting' face is going to look like.

Going back to your immunity, it knows, kinda acknowledge your existence in it's own weird way. Like it won't push you and just go a different path if you're blocking- let's say a door way. Or if you want to help some poor soul from dying, by just standing in the corner and that person being behind you. And surprise, surprise 173 looses it's interest entirely. How thoughtful of it.

[nevertheless-moving]

Stormlight AU 17B Part Two

Continued from Here

Kaladin takes the honorblade because Syl insists it’s too dangerous to leave, collapses on the way back because holy shit exhaustion and injuries and also it's draining his stormlight a bit.

(There’s some interference between Syl Bond/ Honorblade Bond that takes time to sort out.)

When the storm starts dying, Kaladin and Szeth are found laid out like a Rosharan Renaissance painting.

Kaladin’s sprawled on the palace steps, still clutching the blade. There’s probably a single beam of light streaming down from a break in the clouds, illuminating Kaladin’s artistically devastated and storm soaked body with golden light, because of course there is.

The Assassin in White has dagger wounds in his heart and throat. Wounds from a darkeyes weapon. A LOT of witnesses to that messy aftermath because people are too freaked out to move either of them until Dalinar comes downstairs

When Kaladin wakes up he's injured. Syl isn’t answering. He’s surrounded by lighteyes and a handful of his men. The shardblade is on a pedestal.

Unfortunately this hits right in the incredibly specific trauma.

Adolin wasn't exactly sure what he imagined would happen when the bridgeman woke. No, that wasn't true. Over the last two days vigil, he had had plenty of time to think.

A haughty sneer, maybe. Or maybe a victorious smile, gloryspren, stormfather knew he deserved glory. More likely shock, surprise at even being alive — his body must have been devastated, he couldn't have expected the blade to heal him after he won, could he? A suspicious part of him had considered the idea of an attack, some form of betrayal, but not...

Whatever this was.

Prince Adolin Kholin stood in full shardplate watching bridgeboy — bridgeman — the Captain who killed the Kingkiller, face him down. Kaladin stood in a corner, one hand outstretched towards Adolin, wielding a scalpel like a dagger.

That arm was the only part of him that wasn’t shaking.

His eyes were feral, terrified. Storms, he had seen the man tackle the Assassin in White out a fifty foot drop with less fear. Shudders wracked his body. His other arm was gripping the one armed Hardashian that had been tending him, pushing him behind, protecting him.

Protecting him from Adolin.

Adolin took a hesitant step forward, hands held placatingly in front of him, feeling abnormally overly large and clumsy in his shardplate, like a chull, or a chasmfiend.

Captain Stormblessed finally spoke. "No," he said.

No, he didn't just say it, he begged. Adolins jaw dropped with shock. Before that moment, he would have laughed at anyone who claimed that the proud man could lower himself to plead like that. It felt...wrong.

"No," he said again, and almighty, were those tears in his eyes?

"Just let my men go. They won't say anything. I won't say anything. I don't want it. You can have it. I don't want it. Don't hurt my men. Please."

He was babbling. The proudest, most taciturn man on Roshar was babbling, pleading. Fearspren writhed sickly around his chest.

Adolin felt sick. He...must have been wounded in the head. That would be the most singularly cruel injury he could imagine. Worse than rotspren taking a hale warrior.

He glanced helplessly at his father, but he looked just as disturbed as Adolin felt.

Or — could the blade be doing this? It was impossible to miss the way it glowed, pulsing in time with the bridgemans gasps for air. Could it be cursed? Granting power, somehow healing a shardtaken arm, a body shattered from falling, but stealing the mind of the man who bore it?

"It's alright gancho," the hardassian said softly. "The fights over, eh? You can put it down, see, we're all friends here?"

"You have to run Hab," Stormblessed whispered, audible in the too still room. "It's a trap. They're going to..." he was barely able to stay on his feet, but he pushed at the smaller man, making sure to stay in between the Kholins and the uncertain bridge four guards.

More fearspren choked the air. Stone faces too — almighty above agonyspren too? Those hadn't even shone up when light had flooded to his shardtaken feet, and that couldn't have been comfortable.

The hardassian frowned. "Gancho, I'm getting the feeling you ain't completely with me. Surely you remember the Lopen? One armed hardassian? Irresistible to women? Your favorite wall decor?"

The Captain didn't seem to hear him, eyes glassy and unfocused. "No," he whimpered, looking at Adolin and Dalinar. "They're not a threat." He pushed the Herdassian further back. "I don't want the blade."

Adolin was glad his helmet was off, because he was pretty sure he was going to puke. This wasn't...he had tried sometimes, to put the darkeyed Captain in his place but storms...it wasn't right. The memory of his own behavior made him sick. Did the Captain really think so badly of him? That he would kill to steal the blade? Or was it just the delirium?

"It's alright Kaladin," one of the guards — Moash said, stepping forward. "It's not going to happen again. Bridge four is guarding the hall, just a shout away."

He glared at Adolin. Storms. Their entire guard thought that little of them?

Kaladin shook his head in Moash's direction, tears falling freely now. "We cant take them all, Coreb," he rasped. "We — you — you have to run."

His father finally spoke. "It's alright Soldier. I'm not Amaram. You're not there. You're safe. You're a hero."

Adolin and Kaladin stared in confusion.

Amaram? What in Damnation?

"I —" Stormblessed's voice cracked.

Father looked... hollowed out. He took a deep breath, then stepped toward the pedestal that held the sword. Moash, incredibly, lowered his spear at him.

Kelek's breath, Adolin knew that his men were loyal to their captain, but...stormfather.

Dalinar ignored him, lifting the sword, cloth wrapping the hilt, stepping forward.

Stormblessed's whole body was shaking now, scalpel barely staying in his grip. Still, Adolin barely restrained himself from stepping up to protect his father. On one hand, he could hardly imagine Stormblessed in a less threatening state. On the other hand, the Assassin in White might have thought the same.

Kaladin pushed Moash back, eyes fixed on Dalinar's approach.

"I am not Amaram," he repeated. "You know that soldier. Do you remember our conversation, after I exchanged the shardblade for you and your men?"

The captain blinked, scalpel still brandished in warning.

“What is a man’s life worth?” Dalinar asked, calmly stepping forward.

“The slavemasters say one is worth about two emerald broams,” Kaladin mumbled, frowning.

 “And what do you say?”

“A life is priceless,” he said immediately, blinking hard.

Dalinar smiled, then knelt down holding the blade in front of him, still not touching the hilt directly. Moash sucked in a shocked breath, and Adolin couldn’t help but agree with the sentiment.

“Coincidentally,” his father said. “That is the exact value of a Shardblade. Two days ago, you saved the four lives I hold most precious in this world, not to mention countless other priceless lives across Roshar. There is no treasure great enough to serve as payment for such a deed. If, as a start, you would be willing to accept what you have already earned, I would consider it a bargain.” He extended the sword, holding it perpendicular to them both.

“I…” Stormblessed blinked down at Dalinar in confusion. “Sir…?” 

The scalpel slipped through his fingers and landed on the floor with a clatter. Adolin exhaled in relief. I mean, the man could probably  do unreasonable amounts of damage with his bare hands but — still. One less thing to worry about.

The man blinked harder, eventually turning away from the blade to look at Moash.

"Syl," he said fervently. "Something's happened to Syl."

The lieutenant's eyes widened — he clearly recognized the name. Did bridgeboy have a girlfriend?

"It's alright Kal," he said soothingly. "Syl's tough, right? She always comes back."

"She always comes back," bridgeboy said, squeezing his eyes shut and swaying on his feet. Moash and the little Herdasian both moved quickly to steady him. "She has to come back," he whispered.

Dalinar rose smoothly, stepping back. "Perhaps it would be wise to allow the Captain more time to rest before discussing anything further."

"Of course brightlord," Moash said, nodding respectfully, as if he hadn't leveled a storming spear at his Highprince minutes ago. "Come on Kal." The three started moving slowly back to the bed.

Perhaps they were all going to pretend the last ten minutes hadn't happened. That seemed like a good plan to Adolin right now.

Upside of all this, Dalinar is pretty convinced about the Amaram accusation.

Funny conversation with Zahel because yeah fair enough you didn't need shardblade training but also because of that you definitely need shardblade training

REALLY funny conversation with Shallan because the boot stealing incident already happened, Kaladin's getting feasts and parades, and she's like oh. oh i done goofed.

Don't worry Syl's fine, it's just a tight fit until Kaladin's soul adjusts. She maybe even gets a nebulously defined sick power boost (ability to hold honorblade in physical realm perhaps?!?)

Kaladin gets ordered to go master his new powers and is just like. Ok. But i'm doing it because i want to, not because you told me to.

comes back a day later like Ok I can stick rocks together wahoo.

Comes back three days later like "I CAN FLY!! GUYS, GUYS I CAN STORMING FLY!!" it is the first time any lighteyes in camp have seen him smile and might cause several minor sexual crises

Learning to fly and getting to joyfully share it with bridge four right away because why not :)

Happily swapping the blade around bridge four giving a bunch of lighteyes aneurysms, though Syl insists on always taking it back after a bit because she's maybe sort of also bonded with it and its uncomfortable for it to go too far for too long

Incredibly resistant of new titles/lands. It becomes a thing.

Whitespine Uncaged except its like, 20 guys because it's a desperate trap for Kaladin specifically, trying to get him before he masters the honorblade and becomes the Blackthorn's unbeatable champion and the rest of the world get washed away in a river of blood.

...People are kindof freaking out about the blackthorn having a personal magic assassin

Adolin gets a little more beat to shit but they still manage to wreck everyone. I think Renarin also gets the honorblade for a hot minute and gets to go to town since this one doesn't scream. Possibly more of bridge four gets involved.

Absolute epic clusterfuck of a duel. 'Duel' is really the wrong word for 20 shardbarers trying desperately to kill a minor demigod and two pissed off kholins.

Dalinar and the King actually end up giving back a bunch of the shardblades and plate after the Kholin win because keeping all of them would be it's own political nightmare

i mean the 'duel' was already a painfully obvious metaphor. it's Kholins v Everyone Else time and the odds are not looking good for the everyone else side.

Kaladin gets his boon and duel with Amaram but of course it doesn't go how he wanted. Was there ever even a best case scenario here?

(Amaram desperately wants to become a radiant)

(Amaram has also accurately judged his likelihood of victory against the OP darkeye who has gotten even more OP since the last time he saw him to be approximately zero)

(Amaram sees the writing on the wall for house Sadeas now that Kholin is on the rise)

Amaram surrenders completely, throwing himself at Kaladin's feet, swearing over his lands and all that he owns, swearing eternal service to Kaladin in repayment for his sins. Kaladin really really really wants to kill him in cold blood but FUCK he's got morals that's like his whole thing

Kaladin: oh god does this mean i have to deal with Amaram all the time now

Dalinar: i mean he's yours to do with what you want. you could lock him away forever without trial.

Kaladin: oh god why is that even an option

Dalinar: ...the more politically expedient thing to do would be to keep him on as an advisor, at least until you get a better grip on his lands

Kaladin: oh GOD

Adolin kills Sadeas so now the other highprinces are REALLY freaking out

Actual radiant status gets hidden by glowing sword clearly giving Magic powers.

Like. The crabcat is out of the bag on the magic and flying but the sword is VERY CLEARLY GLOWING so. Fun sideways reveal.

TREMENDOUS number of assassination attempts because i can not stress this enough — this sword makes you unkillable and also gives you the power to fucking fly.

Oh! Forgot to mention: Shortly after waking up/bonding the blade he attends the meeting with Stormform!Eshonai, still dissociating slightly, because Syl is high on honorblade and extremely attuned to cognitive realm. Ends up helping Eshonai get rid of stormspren and bond her own light spren. End result for plot is this:

Rumors filter out that one of his powers is making people Radiant, so that's definitely adding to people going wild over him/The Blade/Dalinar's weird religious midlife crisis

new uneasy partial detante with Parshendi because at least one of them has superpowers now (thanks for that)

the desolation gets pushed back another year (tbh mostly because I want more time to explore plot device/political fallout of Kaladin being an absolutely overpowered freak amongst normies)

Stormlight AU Masterlist

[doberbutts]

It's astonishing to see people say "All fear of men is reasonable and okay, but you shouldn't be afraid of black people obviously" and you having to reply, "Hey, question? Aren't black men people?" Everyone clinging to their fear of men while never examining their actions which could harm men of color, in this case, black men who have historically been killed and lynched in great numbers by white women weaponizing this fear to end their lives. Read the Will to Change! bell hooks talks about this! She talks about how white people, especially white men, have distracted from their own patriarchal masculinity by portraying violent women-haters as aberrant and abnormal (So, clearly Black men are more likely to be dangerous because they're already aberrant and abnormal in our white supremacist society). PLEASE understand your fear isn't fucking value-neutral and can be inherently be trusted!!!

Also, on the topic of patriarchal masculinity, I think that term really encompasses what we're talking about when we say male privilege is highly conditional. It's also what makes this uncritical man-hating so devious. Like, bell hooks says, contemporary feminism has provided a place for some women to construct a sense of self outside of sexist expectations, but the same can't be said about men. So by distrusting trans men, telling them they should accept feeling unwelcome in queer spaces because "your identity as a man means you have to earn other's trust (even if you haven't done anything other than exist), you're conflating transmasculinity with patriarchal masculinity. Which is so fucking damaging? Not to mention how people love to destroy and hurt transmasc's emotional selves, the same rituals that bell hooks talks about which so severely damage cis men (who were the book's main topic), and we're doing this to a marginalized, queer group who face immense systemic oppression.

Just--I hate how we mutilate trans men's emotional selves, demonize them because we assume all men possess patriarchal masculinity. I hate how we can't talk about marginalized men because apparently, that means we believe in misandry, when in reality, we're trying to talk about how men of color are portrayed as the worst of masculinity to deflect from white men's violence.

Disclaimer: Sorry for this big ass ask. Just seeing you have to respond to people with a basic lack of understanding of intersectionality and who weren't subtle about their racism--gosh.

And the biggest issue is that I understand why the kneejerk reflex happens- there's a lot of men who have engaged in the most bad faith of bad faith discussions about men's issues and somehow have turned it all onto "so it's WOMEN'S fault things are like this" rather than "so how do we work together with everyone in society to break free", and so a lot of people have their guard up from the start and don't care to listen to the last bit because they think it's more of the same.

Unfortunately, all this will do is continue to make us spin our wheels. We are always stronger together.

[rinanar]

FORGETFUL ! ONESHOT

─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─୨.･❀.･ৎ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─

character/s : 1st gen kings

type : oneshot — angst — NOT X READER

warning/s - details : death , suicide , (and gut wrenching angst I think)

a/n : chat am I cooked?🗣️🔥🔥🔥🔥

─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─୨.･❀.･ৎ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─

They all somehow forget that Seongji is gone.

Every time they want to drink, talk, anything— they mention inviting Seongji. Every time they're together, they'll think; "Huh, where's he?"

Then when they realize that he's gone, they go silent. It happens over and over again.

They just can't get him out of their minds. They don't know why. It's like Seongji is haunting them.

He's the reason why they're together, even until now.

It hurts them when they think that Seongji will get upset if they cut each other off because there's no reason for them to act buddy buddy with each other.

Whenever they see another person with an abnormal condition, they'll be like "Oh, Seongji also has something like that. It isn't that impressive."

They'll look at anything and somehow connect it to Seongji.

They're so nonchalant about it too. It doesn't show on their face that they care about him, that the gathering was just reluctant and it wasn't for Seongji, but they can't keep their eyes from stinging.

Their head hurts, they're starting to forget what Seongji's voice sounded like. Was it soft? Was it a little hoarse like when his sixth finger was cut off from that incident? Was his voice weak?

They wished they recorded all their conversation with him.

He was the sole reason why all of them were together. Seongji wants to tell them that he's happy he has the privilege to proudly tell others that he has friends.

It's not like anyone expected him to kill himself out of guilt. It wasn't his fault. Nothing happened.

But they didn't know that.

They wished they knew the reason why.

─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─୨.･❀.･ৎ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─

a/n : UGHHHHH IM CRYING SEONGJI COME BACK PLZ

[snoopledrooplecheesedoodle]

Yandere Experiment: Lamb Fritter

Hey guys, I've been feeling depressed so I haven't been able to finish making my Yanmas posts, however here's a new oc to help feed my starving audience.

Lamb Fritter is a lab experiment creating a human hybrid with wolf and sheep DNA. Having fluffy white hair that trails off into gray fur like ends. He has black sclera and red eyes with the sheep lens. While it might have cute little lamb ears and a fluffy tail, it also has a pair of pointy wolf ears, sharp curved ram horns, and sharp canine teeth. Being a hybrid gives it super strength and speed, fast metabolism, heightened sight, smell, and hearing, and some other things.

Lamb Fritter was treated very bad by the scientists that created him, kept naked and poked and prodded like an animal despite its high intelligence. He was forced to eat a veggie diet which made the carnivore weaker and weaker.

One day the creature snapped and killed every scientist and guard in the building. Blood stained his white curls and his toned naked body. The poor creature ran away and hid in the dumpster behind a rundown diner in the middle of nowhere.

You were a waitperson at this diner, and you were taking out the trash thinking of what to make for dinner, perhaps lamb fritters. As you opened the dumpster you were attacked by a strong creature that pinned you to the asphalt. A large gash formed in the area the creature scratched on your arm.

You wince as you hear a menacing growl/bleat eyes blown wide with fear; this was your end. Murdered in the back of a crappy diner by some freak experiment. Until you heard sniffing and saw horizontal pupils blinking curiously at you.

Lamb Fritter looked at your eyes and sensed you were not evil like those people who kept him locked away, plus you weren't wearing a white coat.

You feel the creature licking your wound, remorse painted in his strangely endearing eyes. Perhaps sleep deprivation made your judgement murky because you guided the poor creature inside and threw an apron over its fully naked body (its genitals were freaking you out).

Lamb Fritter sat in an old booth seat and scarfed down the country fried steak you put in front of him, it was going to be your dinner, but the man seemed very hungry. It was almost cute how the wolf-sheep hybrid whined when the plate was empty, clearly he was still hungry.

Looks like you made a loyal friend who was abnormally strong and obeyed you no questions asked.

Extra Info

His favorite food is country fried steak not because he particularly likes it (he prefers his meat raw), but because he associates it with good things (like you).

Hates clothes with a burning passion, refuses to wear anything more than underwear (it's not like he'll be going outside anyways).

Amazing cuddler as he is warm and soft with strong arms to help you feel safe. He loves this gentle nighttime activity as he gets to hold you while you sleep. Likes to groom you as a good mate would do.

His little sheep tail wags when he's happy and he does a happy yip/bleat (only happens when it involves you).

Will block the door with his body every time you try to leave the house in hopes of you staying forever. Can be persuaded with sweet words and cuddles.

Very smart and picks up on words you mention and parrots them back to you. Happy bark/bleats when you ruffle his hair when you reward his smartness. Very fond of the phrase "I love you" and your name.

Being very smart it is able to pick up any task quickly and perfect it, it's the only way he can stave off boredom when you're gone.

Follows you everywhere in the house, insists on following you into the bathroom as well (you don't let him).

Hates the smell of others, especially other men. Will cling to you rubbing his scent all over you in hopes it will stick permanately

Will charge people and maul them if you let anyone into your nest (aka your house). Will also bring a body part up to you proudly and expects praise (look how well it defends you). He's territorial so it's best to not bring anyone home until that muzzle you ordered for him comes in the mail.

Feral unhinged beast to others and loyal submissive puppy to you.

Don't you love your good boy?

[dakusan]

Vampire SKZ was not something I knew I needed until you started showing up in my dash (a gift I will be thanking the Tumblr gods for for a long, long time).

Your writing is delicious. And your music? Divine. So if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna devour everything you've ever written. While listening to your songs. Love a blog that comes with a soundtrack. Okay wow, that sounded more obsessively unhinged than I meant it too. Oops.

I'm pacing myself as I work through your words, because I don't want to irritate you with spam likes. But bloody hell, hah, punny, resisting is proving difficult.

Some people write. You craft.

Hrm, this is turning into quite the sappy little love letter, isn't it? I'll stop for now.

I have a Vampire!SKZ question.

I haven't finished reading through everything yet (avoiding the spam) so I apologise and beg your forgiveness if I've missed this somewhere, but I'm desperate to know:

How would they react if someone tried to feed on their blood doll.

Is it even possible? Would anyone be so stupid? What are the consequences? Would it affect the bond between them and y/n? Does this mean that blood dolls can be used as hostages and bargaining chips? Am I asking too many questions?

That's definitely too many questions, I apologise.

I hope the night finds you well and that your inspiration runs forever,

🦪

🦪 ANON… oh you pearl of devotion, you lil sappy menace, you velvet-voiced fever dream — do you think I’m gonna read that love letter and NOT lose my entire gothic little mind???

You’re spoiling me and I’m going to start expecting handwritten letters sealed in wax at this point 😭🖤

You said "a blog that comes with a soundtrack" and now I’m sobbing into my wineglass full of metaphorical blood and distortion FX. Please devour everything. That’s why it’s there. Consume me like I’m a morally grey vampire princess in silk robes. I’ll allow it.

Now. To your EXCELLENTLY unhinged question.

· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────

❓“What happens if someone tries to feed on their blood doll?”

They don’t try. Because the moment they think about trying, their bones start shaking. Their vision goes red. Because—

💀 It is one of the highest taboos in the vampire world.

Especially among Abnormals. Blood dolls are sacred. Marked. Claimed. Scent-locked. Aura-encoded. You don’t touch someone else’s blood bond. You don’t even look too long unless you’re ready to die in a poetic, horrifyingly creative way.

🩸 If someone’s stupid enough to try? Oh baby… they’re not walking away.

Bang Chan? You’re not just dying. You’re vanishing. Erased from history. The doll won’t even remember you existed. He’ll rewrite the narrative like a god.

Minho? Your death will be ceremonial. Beautiful. Ritualistic. He’ll pour your blood into the soil and whisper blessings over your severed limbs.

Changbin? Snaps your spine like a toothpick. No questions. Straight-up berserker rage.

Hyunjin? You’ll be dragged into a dreamscape and torn apart piece by piece until you cry in a language you don’t know.

Jisung? Oh, he’ll act confused and scared—then gut you like a fish while smiling and humming your blood doll’s favourite song.

Felix? Sunlight in his eyes, death in his smile. You won’t even see it coming. He’ll look like an angel as he unmakes you.

Seungmin? Cold. Efficient. He’ll kill you and file paperwork after.

Jeongin? He’s still learning. But that boy’s got rage underneath. You try touching his doll, and something ancient wakes up. You’ll regret it. Severely.

✨ Consequences? YES. A failed feeding attempt may damage the bond. Dolls are emotionally linked, biologically rewritten, and territorially marked. If another vampire tries to feed on them, it can cause:

blood rejection

sensory trauma

bond destabilization

feral feedback in the original mate

and in extreme cases? Bond fracture or death.

And yes—blood dolls can 100% be used as bargaining chips. Hostages. Pawns. Their value is enormous. But the risk? UNHOLY. You better be ready to burn the world down with them, because their bonded vampire will.

· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────

TOO MANY QUESTIONS? BFFR. This is Vampire SKZ. There is no such thing.

Thank you for your brain. Your words. Your glorious taste in unhinged lore. You are now part of the bloodbound court.

May your night be haunted, and your thirst be fed 🖤🕯️

[mary-laib]

ATLA AU where instead of telling Ozai to sacrifice his first born, Azulon decides to revoke Ozai's birthright and make Zuko next in line to keep the firstborn reign going:

• Azulon still dies while Iroh is missing in action, so that leaves Zuko as firelord with Ozai as his regent at 10 years old

• This is abnormal, but not unprecedented

• Zuko has not seen the world yet, but still has a lot of fire nation propaganda running around in that head of his, so when he hears about thw bad things that have been happening with the military, he thinks that Azulon was just leading them wrong and tries to set up a more negotiation based war. He wants to unite the 4 nations as one. It's a bit idealistic and unrealistic.

• He starts by trying to win the Southern water tribe over to their side. With Hakoda gone, that leaves a prince and princess around his age the main negtiators for their tribe (it's mostly negotiation between Iroh, who returned and decided to help Zuko on his mission, and Sokka and Katara's grandma negotiating, while the kids mostly play negotiate, but don't tell the kids that! This is serious business!)

• There's a lot of shitty things going on down there that he didn't know about so he makes a list of reparations they need to perform and since the Southern water tribe is Suffering™️ and Zuko's offered to return their stolen water benders, they agree

• The Northern water tribe quickly becomes a neutral area that just so happens to let other water tribe and fire nation troops and travelers through

• The Earth kingdom still refuses to back down so now it's the water tribes and the fire nation vs the earth kingdoms

• Finally the Avatar returns, but... there's still a war that destroyed his people and no one can agree on who is in the wrong at this new stage in the war and now they expect Aang to figure it out

• Cue travel hijinks with the gaang traveling with the military, trying to make sense of the whole thing while Zuko is actively now trying to twist up his ancestors wrong doings so he can justify his own and the earth kingdom trying to vy for the avatar's help

Edit: Forgot to mention, but as regent, Ozai is basically the true fire lord since Zuko' not old enough to do all the ruling in this au. Since killing the new fire lord himself would be risky and he's already ruling behind the scenes, he doesn't feel as obligated to get rid of his son and ascertain his own place as fire lord. And with Zuko constantly out and about negotiating outside the fire nation, that leaves Ozai plenty of room to work on the home and war front. Ozai is also a huge part of the reason Zuko feels obligated to keep the war against the earth kingdom going. Iroh advises him about bringing harmony to the four nations by bringing them all together as one, while Ozai whispers in his ear about making sure that the earth kingdom submits to them and leading the 4 nations under the fire nation. He'll probably bring up ideas about a Phoenix king near Sozin's comet. Maybe Zuko will trust Ozai to take his place as the Phoenix king, maybe something will go wrong during the comet and fire lord Zuko's reign will come to a premature end. Who knows?

[randomreadingtimewithtsuki]

Hello! I saw that you opened again your requests and I was wondering if I could request a one shot of Estarossa/Mael where at the end of the first holy war he fell in love and married a woman of the demon clan being Estarossa (Mael was going to fight against the reader but Gowther cast the spell and Estarossa thought he had saved her) and they had a son and a baby and just the second holy war occurs and Mael recovers his memories and is reunited with his wife and children. I thought it could be interesting! And if you don't feel comfortable just ignore it <3

I hope you have a great day :3

Hello!

Thank you for requesting!

I hope this is of your liking, please let me know what you think!

Thank you for requesting for Mael

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You were saved by the youngest of the demon clan - Estarossa.

Or so you thought.

You had the clear memory of him slaying Mael and scooping you up badly beaten.

You also remembered he stayed by your side during your recovery.

How could you not love this man?

He was strong and gentle with you.

Alas, you were all imprisoned including your child.

When you came to, you immediately when to look for your child and your husband.

What you didn't expect to find was your beloved husband having a major meltdown.

You had just arrived at a battle field, holding you little's one hand.

You could hear the clashes above the clouds.

Some demons said Estarosse was here, but where? up there?

You trying your hardest to avoid the angels - you didn't want to fight with your kid around.

That was when you heard Estarossa's blood curdling scream.

Both you and the child were horrified.

That scream sounded so painful.

But it couldn't be. Your Estarossa was the one that killed Mael.

A few moments before you could fly up there, your mind got hazy.

You could hear your child calling your name, as your knee gave in.

A flush of memories hit you. Suddenly, Estarossa didn't save you. The one standing before you was Mael.

You came to the realization that your memories have been tampered with.

Shaking and hugging your little one, you decide to go after Estarossa or Mael. Something was not right.

But you couldn't find him, at least not where there was no angels.

When you child asked you about Estarossa, your heart ached. Their daddy was not really their daddy.

It hit you that this child in front of you, is a mixed race. Goddess clan and Demon clan.

That is why he was immune to some magic and had a abnormal strength.

As you stared him down, you heard wings flapping.

Your momma bear instincts kick over and you were ready to protect and blow the head of whoever was there.

Only to be greeted by a soft, yet familiar calling your name.

Mael showed himself.

He hesitated before approaching you, despite his wish to hug you both.

An awkward silence took place.

Mael smiled when he noticed your child peeked from behind your leg.

He sighed and said there was a lot to explain.

Mael invited you to sit next to him, but you refused. You stood there, but agreed to listen to him - you needed to know what happened to your memories.

He explained to you that everyone's memory was tampered with. He was Estarossa.

You didn't really believe him at first and that was when he offered to take you to Gowther so he could explain it better to you.

Before you could say anything, your child, who was listening quietly, chimed in - "So... you are my papa?"

This comment made you both hesitate.

Your eyes were filled with tears.

Mael replied positively and proceeded to explain why the child why so different from the others.

They had Goddess and Demon blood.

Mael was gently smiling at the kid.

Your child took a few shy steps towards Mael, which made you flinch.

You were ready to snatch him, but Mael stretched his hand and caressed their cheek.

Just like Estarossa used to do.

You realized then, they were indeed, the same person.

Mael was hesitant on being your life again, he understood if you wanted to stay away from him.

Parts of you wanted to stay away, but another part you screamed to give him a chance.

Watching your child happily seated next to him made your heart flutter.

So, you did gave him a chance.

Your relationship was back to baby steps. Getting to know each other again.

But you already had a kid. And both of you knew this kid head to toe.

Which was very odd.

It was very hard to decide where to live - He needed to go back to the Goddess clan land and you couldn't go along.

So it was decided with a little help of Meliodas, Elizabeth and Gowther that you would stay in the human realm.

Mael would visit you both from time to time.

It is safe to say you did save your marriage and managed to get your little one a healthy family life.

Your child ended up being very good friends with Tristan later one. As they both were mixed races.

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Thank you for reading!

I love writting for Mael such angst!