#i meant for this to be a normal thirst trap

[tvsnationalgeosapphic]

fuck it. abstract spock thirst trap.

[zorostitties]

Aurora; 6 (m)

⤕ Your existence had been an endless night, where shadows whispered long forgotten secrets. Trapped in a golden cage, your fragile mind and shattered memories were chains that kept you from dreaming of freedom. Then, he appeared with the first light of dawn, like a gentle sun warming your cold skin. In his gaze, the promise of a new beginning; in his presence, the sunrise your soul had longed for.

In which Alucard saves you from Erzsebet.

pairing: alucard (castlevania) x (f) reader

genre: angst, romance, slow burn, eventual smut

warnings: violence/blood, explicit language, mental health issues, grief, physical abuse.

rating: 18+

word count: 7k

A/N: HELLO Y'ALL!!! I planned to post this chapter yesterday, but unfortunately I was too drunk to finish writing anything. The pre carnival parties got me 🙂‍↕️ That being said, this one wasn't proof read, so my apologies for any grammar mistakes. I love how past chapter made all of you theorize LMAOOOO as I replied in the comments, I'm sad that I can't really discuss anything with y'all (no spoilers!!) but I LOVED reading everything! I love how much attention y'all are paying to any details!! 🥹🥹

Anyways, enjoy <3

⤕  Chapters: check masterlist in bio!  ⤕ Also on AO3

Olrox felt that horrible stench from the moment he stepped out of the ship.

At first, he thought it was just the usual human filth. Too many souls, too many plagues, too much blood soaking the lands of the Old World, too much history, too much evil. Olrox never liked visiting Europe, and not only because the travel was exhausting, even for a vampire. To him, that continent meant a mix of distastes. He’d only cross the ocean when he had no other choice.

Then, he stood face to face with Erzsebet Bathory – and the stench got even worse.

Not many things shocked Olrox anymore, but when he first met the so called “Vampire Messiah”, he couldn’t help but feel that way. She reeked. Her horrible smell already permeated the entirety of France. Olrox wondered how any of her servants managed to stand beside her without vomiting. Hell, even the normal humans of Machecoul should be feeling that at some point.

Of course – the world was not what it used to be. Not many people were able to feel the fragrances of magic anymore.

Olrox came from a time and a people that weren’t blinded by the teachings of the Christian Church. They knew that magic is very much real; they knew that it existed in every aspect of life, from the forests to the rivers to the seas, from the birth of a child to the death of an elder, from the blood that dripped when a girl became a woman to the blood that splashed in a holy sacrifice. This type of knowledge was being slowly forgotten, buried in the sands of time. Mankind had a short memory. With each generation, they became more and more unaware of the invisible forces around them – not only in the Old World, but in his home, too.

But Olrox didn’t have a short memory. Olrox never forgot any teaching.

And Olrox knew that that was the stench of blasphemy.

Erzsebet Bathory was no goddess. Of that, he was sure. But the type of magic she was feeding of��� it was ancient, difficult to manage. Dangerous. From a time when gods still roamed Earth and still had the power to bless or punish. And it was quite ironic, in fact, that Drolta – who was not only Erzsebet’s most loyal servant, but also claimed to be Sekhmet’s priestess – would even dare to try that.

Olrox sincerely did not understand Drolta. She was even older than him; she was a powerful vampire and had deep knowledge in the occult. Why would she act so foolishly? Was she blinded by the love for her goddess, or was she blinded by her thirst for power?

This goddess she claimed to love – wherever she was, he wondered, could not be satisfied with any of that.

And yet… as days went by, as Olrox investigated Machecoul… he noticed another smell.

It was very well masked under Erzsebet’s stench. It was… timid, in a way. Very easy to go unnoticed. He felt it faintly in Mizrak. It became stronger in the night creatures. It was disgusting in the Abbot. And now, standing in the underground of his church, it was unbearable.

The stench of a demon.

Olrox stood in front of the necromancy machine the now deceased Abbot used to make night creatures with. Another irony in this great puzzle he was putting together – a funny irony this time. Did the people that come to pray to their God upstairs had any idea that a hell machine laid under their feet? Did they ever imagine that the man that used to hold their Holy Scriptures also held a book originated in the underworld?

He would’ve laughed at the entire situation if it didn’t affect Mizrak – and he wouldn’t have really cared if his inner voice didn’t warn him otherwise.

Olrox knew the entity was with him at that moment. Surrounding him, vibrating in a low frequency. The basement immediately got cold. The smell of coal and sulfur got stronger.

“I know who you are,” Olrox muttered, not caring to turn around. He could feel that thing grinning at him. “Old Man Coyote. Mephistopholes, or some other name.” His eyes wandered over the hell book he held. “I know what promises you make and how tempting they are. And I could make good use of a powerful patron.”

Olrox closed the book, finally looking over his shoulder. The entity was nothing but a shadow; blurry, dark, trying hard to somehow keep itself together in the same level of existence as him – and it would never achieve this in its totality without a vessel.

“But this doesn’t belong in this world,” he said, shaking the hell book slightly, “And nor do you.”

He threw the book inside the machine, where it burned immediately. The shadow retreated.

Olrox made his way out of the Abbey. The smell still followed him, though. It was mixed with the human filth, the blood, the plagues, the history, the evil. Mixed with Erzsebet’s stench. Hidden under it. And looking in retrospect, it was always there, from the moment Olrox stepped out of the ship.

It was very reflective of the situation slowly unfolding in front of his eyes. Erzsebet was noisy, boisterous, blinding, just like her stench. The other stench was quieter, moving silently like a snake ready to pounce on its prey. He wondered if she would notice the snake before it sank its fangs in her ankles. Probably not. She wasn’t as perceptive, or as intelligent, or as dangerous.

Yes, the type of blasphemous magic Drolta and Erzsebet were messing with was dangerous. But gods didn’t roam the Earth anymore. They couldn’t protect of punish the way they used to.

Demons did.

Demons could.

Olrox wondered what type of pact they made with this demon – and what was the price they would have to pay for their foolishness.

PAIN.

It was red and piercing and incessant and strong and nauseating and you felt your bones crashing and flesh being slashed and the pressure in your stomach and the taste of blood in your tongue and your vision went black and you couldn’t breathe and nothing else existed but pain pain pain pain pain pain pain pain pain pain pain PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN–––––

...

You knew pain. You knew it very well. You knew it better than anything else – better than yourself, better than your cloudy past.

You could deal with it. You could deal with it.

You would deal with it.

So you forced your brain to start working again. You forced your eyes to focus.

And they saw red. Blurry red. The night creature’s jaws tightly around your body. Its teeth sank deep into your clavicle, your chest, your stomach, and–

And–

And you couldn’t feel half of your right arm anymore.

You still weren’t hearing anything very well. If you could, you would’ve heard Annette gasping, desperately calling your name; then you would’ve heard her scream of anger, then you would’ve heard the sound of her blade slashing the night creature’s remaining head from its neck.

The pressure of the jaws was gone. The head fell on the ground.

It was like taking the cover off a leaking pipe.

The bleeding started.

Your brain was divided in two sections. The bigger section which occupied 90% of it was yelling PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN. The smaller section, barely 10% of it, was strangely focused and analytical. This little part always understood very well everything that was happening.

PAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINmy lung was pierced. If I try to breathe, I will inhale bloodITHURTSITHURTSITHURTSITHURTSITHURTSdon’t breathe for now. There’s already blood in your throat. You’ll gag and it’ll only make things worstPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINPAINprobably one or two ribs broken, too. I can’t move my right shoulder… so the collarbone was also piercedIT HURTS!! IT HURTS!! IT HURTS!! IT HURTS!!

MY RIGHT ARM! IT’S HANGING!!

You held your breath. You stumbled back. You heard Annette’s incoherent, desperate voice – oh, she will freak out if she sees me like this. So, with the little body control you still had, you pushed her away with your left arm and stumbled to the back of the gallery.

Don’t worry about this, it’s what you would’ve said if you could breathe, if there wasn’t blood clogging your throat. It’ll heal anyway. I’m more worried about you seeing me in this state.

How you didn’t trip was a miracle. You stumbled to the farthest place you could reach, leaning on the wall with your back facing Annette; you didn’t utter a sound. Don’t scream, don’t cry – these two rules were still engraved in your behavior.

So when you looked down and saw that your entire forearm was hanging from a little piece of skin and muscle, all you thought was oh shit.

The two bones of the forearm were visibly cracked, peeking out from a horrible gash in an exposed fracture. You didn’t feel anything from that point down to your hand, which meant that all the nerves were ripped off; it bled uncontrollably, which would become the even bigger problem – you always passed out very fast due to extreme blood loss. But you didn’t want anyone to see you in this state. You knew they didn’t have time to wait until your full recovery.

So, quite honestly, you were relieved that your forearm wasn’t completely ripped off; you were grateful that it was still hanging by that small piece of skin. Growing entire limbs back was not only slow, but disgusting and extremely painful. All you had to do was give your body a little push for it to understand what it needed to do.

With your left hand, you held your forearm and fit the bone back to its place – like two pieces of a puzzle.

Oh fuck it hurts. This time, you had to groan. As the wound was very much open, you could see exactly were the bones should connect; luckily enough, the little gash of flesh didn’t rip off, which would completely disconnect the forearm from the rest of your body. You still heard Annette behind you, but you couldn’t comprehend anything she was saying. You just kept your eyes glued to your arm.

It’s like your body didn’t know what to heal first. Too many wounds. And yet, for the second time that day, you were lucky: the healing decided to act on the arm first.

And oh FUCK how it hurt.

It hurt almost as much as having it injured; you closed your eyes tightly, feeling as the bones started to reconnect, the noise it made – it reverberated in your entire body. And then the nerves were starting to reconnect too like vines and when they did IT HURT HURT HURT HURT because you started to feel the rest of your forearm again, and your fingers had spasms, and then your muscles were also reconnecting and rebuilding, and then finally the wound was closing–

Blank.

You passed out.

When your eyes opened again, you were laid on the floor, staring at the ceiling – Annette and Richter’s tired and horrified faces hovering over you.

Much time mustn’t had passed. Well… that’s what happens when one holds their breath for so long. You turned your head to the side and coughed blood, but after spitting, you felt that you could breathe again – albeit slowly, like your air passage was as thin as a straw; it was a relief anyway. You groaned. The throat wasn’t damaged. Good.

They were saying something, though you weren’t listening. You tried to raise your right arm to no avail; oh, right. The collarbone. It still hadn’t healed. It radiated pain from that point to your fingertips. If there was pain, it meant that the arm was still in the process of healing, although the skin had already patched itself, closing the open wound.

And then your ears started to hear again.

“...too much blood,” Richter’s voice was hurried, borderline desperate. “She’s losing too much blood, we need to do something!”

“Mmm’ okay.”

They stopped their incessant talking and looked down at you.

And then, they gasped when you started to rise, using the strength of your left arm.

“No! Keep lying down!” Annette tried, but you just groaned in response.

You bit your tongue, holding a groan of pain as you managed to sit, both of them resting their hands on your back to support you. There was still pain everywhere – you didn’t even know where to focus first; the pain on your right arm that spread to the shoulder and shattered collarbone, the sharp pressure in your chest that felt like someone heavy was stepping over it, your stomach which was still bleeding as the skin hadn’t regenerated yet, the broken ribs that made each breath hurt, or the blood loss that brought the familiar dizziness and headache.

And still, you looked at Annette.

“Did you get hurt?” you managed to speak somehow.

Her eyes widened. She let out a soft gasp.

“How are you asking that when you’re like this?!” And then you saw it... the look of pure guilt. That’s not what you wanted to achieve with your action – not that you really thought about anything the moment you jumped in front of a night creature.

I don’t die, Annette, is what you wanted to say; you needed them to understand this once and for all – there was no need to worry, no need to feel guilty. This strange body of yours had gone through much worse. Everything would be back in place after a few hours.

You couldn’t say anything, though – because at the same moment, a shockwave of pure agony made your mind go blank.

You closed your eyes tightly. You bit your lower lip, swallowing the scream that wanted to escape. Don’t scream, don’t cry; don’t scream, don’t cry, you repeated in your mind like a mantra. This time, though, it wasn’t because you were scared of a worse punishment; you just didn’t want to shock these two. They weren’t innocent babies, of course – both were capable of killing, much stronger than you. But they were still young and seeing an ally in such state shouldn’t be easy.

Or maybe you were just putting yourself in highest regards than you actually were.

Still, you kept swallowing more screams and grunts of pain. Richter and Annette eyed you with worry, as you kept your eyes closed for more than a minute without uttering a sound or letting any reaction. You became quite good at the art of acting like you weren’t feeling anything.

After the shockwave dissipated – you knew it would come back; it was always like this with serious injuries – you moved your legs, making clear that you wanted to get up. The two of them hurried to help you to your feet without touching the right side of your body.

Oh… that’s a lot of blood, the conscious 10% of your brain noted. The deep blue gown was drenched in red now on your right side. The world twirled; don’t pass out, don’t pass out, don’t pass out, you repeated, as if it would make any difference.

When your sight focused again, you saw Alucard walking into the gallery.

And if you could speak at that moment, you would’ve asked, why are you soaked?

Yet you didn’t say anything because you watched how his expression changed in seconds. It went from shock – eyes widened, lips slightly parted, brows frowned – to straight up anger.

Once again, it scared you. You didn’t like to see him angry. The idea of Alucard being angry at you was terrifying.

In the blink of an eye he was standing in front of you, holding your left shoulder (oh, you never got used to a vampire’s ability of moving so fast). You flinched, and not because of his touch, but because you knew what anger like that usually followed…

But then – he snapped his head at Richter.

“This would not have happened, Richter Belmont, if you hadn’t told them where we were going!”

You flinched again. His voice genuinely sounded like a hiss. You’d never heard him speak like this before.

He was angry at… Richter?

You couldn’t turn your head anymore, couldn’t look at anything beyond eye level, which was just Alucard’s chest at the moment. Darkness came and went; your hearing worked as if it was underwater – muffled voices, they came and went too.

“She got hurt because of me,” Annette intervened, her tone defensive, guilty and angry, all at the same time. “And it wouldn’t take a sorcerer to predict we’d come to Paris, Alucard. We also thought Drolta was dead. We though you’d killed her.”

PAIN.

It was sharp as if a spear had just pierced your stomach. You closed your eyes again. Don’t scream, don’t cry; don’t scream, don’t cry; don’t scream, don’t cry; don’t scream, don’t cry… Your ears were still hearing, although you weren’t paying attention to anything anymore. Something something something prepare the city. Something something National Convention. Something something something nests of vampires. Why couldn’t they shut the fuck up for a second?

The world twirled – but this time it was quite literal; Alucard took you in his arms bridal style, having the care to not touch the right side of your body. The ceiling came and went out of focus. You wanted to vomit. Don’t pass out, don’t scream, don’t cry…

He was walking away. If you could speak, you would’ve asked, where are you taking me? You have to destroy Sekhmet’s mummy, isn’t it? Shouldn’t you hurry?

“Why aren’t we coming with you?” Richter asked – or you thought he asked that.

Alucard stopped for a second. “I’ve told you what I need you to do. Do I have to say it again?”

If you could speak, you would’ve said something along the lines of why are you being so mean to him?

But you couldn’t speak, nor could you think. The conscious part of your brain shrunk to barely 5% at the moment another shockwave of agony hit your body – focused on your chest now; it was difficult to breath, you felt the ferrous taste of blood in your tongue. Don’t pass out, don’t scream, don’t cry; don’t pass out, don’t scream, don’t cry; don’t pass out, don’t scream, don’t cry; don’t pass out, don’t scream, don’t cry…

You completely lost notion of time and space (did you black out briefly? Heavens, you hoped not…). When the wave of pain dissipated, you realized that you were no longer in his arms. You were… laying. Over a soft surface.

Your eyes focused again. A wooden ceiling, a window to your right. A… room? Were you laying on a bed? How did you get here?

You tried to sit, only to feel a hand touch your left shoulder.

“Shhh,” Alucard shushed. Oh, he’s still here, sitting on the bed too. “Don’t move.”

“No,” you muttered, or something that sounded like that. “We… ugh… we need to go.”

“You’re in no condition to do anything right now, Ruby.” The anger had disappeared completely. Worry was the only emotion you heard in his soft voice. You groaned again, insisting in sitting up. Alucard left a tsk past his lips, and you thought you heard him whisper “what are you doing, woman?” though you couldn’t be sure about this last part.

Still, he helped you change into a sitting position with your legs hanging from the bed, his hand supporting your back. Yes, this was a small room; simple, a small desk and a chair being the only furniture other than the bed. You wanted to ask where the hell were you, but you mustered your forces to ask what actually mattered at the moment.

“The… mummy…?”

The sight of Alucard was blurry. Still, you saw his eyes drop. He sighed.

“Drolta took it.”

Your heart dropped, too.

If Drolta retrieved the second half of Sekhmet’s mummy… that could mean they wouldn’t need you to summon an eclipse anymore. Which meant you weren’t their upper hand; you were just a useless injured person. Alucard should be preparing to fight, not sitting beside you as you bled–

PAIN.

This time, you couldn’t hold the grunt of pain back; you tightened your eyes, shrunk your shoulders, bent over slightly.

“What is it?” Alucard asked worriedly. “Where does it hurt?”

Fucking everywhere!, is what you wanted to answer.

Cuts, skin or muscle pierced… this type of injury was “easy” to heal, “easy” to handle. But that night creature made much more damage beyond what the eye could see. Your insides were hurt – and the healing of this type of injury was much more violent. You could feel your organs moving, expanding, regrowing, patching; bones reattaching, sending waves of excruciating pain through your entire skeleton. The bleeding must’ve stopped at that point, no more wound was visible on your skin, but that didn’t ease any of the pain at all.

“Mmmmh,” you probably were trying to say something coherent, but nothing came.

“It’s okay,” Alucard shushed softly again. “Don’t hold yourself back.”

His voice wasn’t coming from beside you anymore. You opened your eyes briefly to see that now, he was down on one knee right in front of you. Alucard held your hand (the good one) softly.

“Squeeze my hand if you need it. Just don’t hold yourself back.”

Don’t scream, don’t cry, was the instinct engraved in your very being. And yet, Alucard was asking you to do the exact opposite.

You couldn’t. Not really. You were too good at holding yourself back at this point. However, when another wave of pain came, you squeezed his hand out of instinct, squeezed it tight – and that was the signal Alucard needed. You didn’t open your eyes (even if you weren’t in pain, to look at him so closely would be probably torture). You didn’t see his expression when, with his free hand, he softly touched the back of your head and made you rest your face on his shoulder.

“It’s alright,” he whispered. His lips were so close to your ear; his deep voice reverberated in your body.

Ninety percent of your brain was yelling in sharp pain. The ten percent that weren’t focused on the way he caressed your hair softly; then, he was caressing your back. Your body trembled, your jaw so tightened that it almost felt that your teeth were going to crash; jolts of pure agony made you want to scream. Your hand squeezed his incessantly to a point you didn’t even realize you were doing it anymore.

Alucard didn’t complain about anything. He stayed there, holding you with care. That 10% part of your brain felt the sweet scent on the crook of his neck, his hand softly caressing your back, the warmth radiating from his body, his voice saying It’s okay and I’m so sorry every time a grunt of pain escaped.

He stayed there until the pain eased. He stayed there until your mind finally gave in and you passed out, embraced by darkness.

“Do you regret it?”

You frown at ???’s sudden question.

“What?” Did you even hear her correctly? The music is a bit too loud.

“Do you regret it? To have chosen this path?”

You look ahead again. Oh... now you understand her question. You can’t blame her for thinking that anyway. You know it’s not easy for most people to understand.

Sun bathes the patio. The air smells of wine, flowers and good food. Most of the guests occupy the center, dancing and talking. Kids run in between them. ??? proudly shows off a beetle to his friends.

“Of course not,” you say with such certainty that no one would dare to question you. “I am much proud of the choices I made.”

And yet, only you know the slight sting in your heart – the tiny loneliness that refused to go away.

The wooden ceiling again.

You stared at it for a long time. The window beside you was opened now. A soft refreshing breeze kissed your skin, just as the afternoon sun rays.

Your body tingled. You stretched the fingers of your right hand. They tingled, too; the push of the muscles on your wrist was a tiny bit painful, but nothing compared to the excruciating agony you felt a while ago.

Then, you moved your right shoulder. Up, down; with your left hand, you touched the collarbone. It… felt normal. You looked down at your body and – hell, that dress was in pieces, damp with your own blood. You were lucky that the corset wasn’t completely ripped, otherwise your chest and torso would be exposed.

You touched the parts where the fabric was teared. The skin… normal. No more pain. No more cramps in your stomach or chest.

Only then did you sigh in relief.

You saw movement with the corner of your eye – and when you turned your head to see Alucard, you completely forgot about the weird dream you just had.

He was sitting on the floor with his back leaning on the bed. But, as he heard your sigh, he turned to look at you.

He was close.

Very close.

His white hair was visibly damp. His expression didn’t show much sign of anything as he analyzed your features.

“I didn’t expect you’d wake up so soon,” he said quietly.

And then – you remembered everything.

You gasped, wanting to sit in a jump, but the world twirled and you fell back. Alucard stood up and sat on the edge of the bed, ready to catch you if needed.

“Don’t move so abruptly. You’re still weak.”

“I’m fine...” you didn’t expect that to sound like a whine. Your tongue still tasted like blood.

Alucard sighed. “Stubborn little one, aren’t you?”

You didn’t expect him to call you that – and it immediately made heat creep to your cheeks. This heat was getting too familiar at this point. Nevertheless, he helped you to sit, placing his hand on your back. You held his arm for support.

Alucard wasn’t wearing his cape, his belt, gloves and his coat anymore; the pieces of clothing were hanging from the window. You felt that the sleeve of his white blouse was damp, and that should be the case with the rest of his clothes, too – the black vest, his pants. And then… you noticed he wasn’t wearing his cravat as well, and that the three first buttons of his blouse were opened, exposing just a peek of his collarbones and his chest–

And you had to look away for the sake of your own sanity.

“How long did I sleep?” You asked in a husky voice.

“Not much. An hour and a half, I believe.” This was a relief. At least, he hadn’t wasted much time on you. “Your healing is very fast, indeed. Maybe faster than you’d realized.”

Well… the passage of time was a difficult topic for you anyway, so you never really paid mind to how long it took until you were fully recovered.

“What are you going to do now?” You asked, already feeling apprehension bubble within you. “If Drolta retrieved Sekhmet’s mummy… she won’t need me anymore.”

Alucard tightened his lips and looked down. “We must help the city prepare to fight. It’s the only thing we can do right now.”

You nodded slowly, also dropping your eyes. This was the worst case scenario. The Erzsebet you knew was powerful in her own right… an Erzsebet with the entirety of Sekhmet’s power would be hell on Earth. Add that to her legion of powerful vampires – Paris wouldn’t stand a chance, and soon, the entire continent would succumb.

You couldn’t help but think this somehow was also your fault.

You were still holding Alucard’s forearm for support, and he was holding yours, too. His grip was soft, yet firm. It was the first time you were seeing his hand without the gloves. Differently from other vampires, his nails weren’t long and sharp. His fingers were slender; the skin of his palm was surprisingly smooth, given he was a swordsman. And his touch… was much warmer than you were expecting. Vampires are usually unnervingly cold to the touch. Alucard was as warm as a normal human.

“Ruby.”

The way he called your name – so quiet, his voice so small… you’d never heard that tone coming from him. It felt deeply intimate in a way, and you couldn’t explain why. It immediately made you look at him again.

His golden eyes were clouded with guilt.

“I’m sorry.” The breeze coming from the window made yours and his hair sway. You silently blamed it for the goosebumps you felt, and not his voice or his touch or his proximity to you. It looked like Alucard was struggling to find his words – again, a first. “I truly am. I… had no idea that Drolta was alive. I was sure to have finished her back then.”

The mere mention of her name made fear crawl over your skin. “...If we can still call that Drolta, that is,” your voice was merely a whisper, as if saying her name out loud would attract her. “What happened to her?”

Alucard frowned. “It appears she was turned to a night creature, though I fail to understand how she managed to keep her soul. I didn’t know this was possible. I should’ve considered Maria’s father would be a bigger problem to us.” That last sentence was more directed at himself than to you. Maria…? Oh, right. The girl in pink you saw briefly at the ruins in Machecoul. What did her father had to do with anything?

He closed his eyes for a moment, his shoulders dropping a bit. “...Actually, I should’ve considered a couple more things before involving you in all this.” And then, he was looking at you again, and you felt that you couldn’t breathe. His gaze was tender and overwhelming at the same time. It’s like he could blur the world outside with his mere presence. “I put you in more danger than I should have. I’m sorry for not taking good care of you.”

Your chest tightened.

Taking care of you, he said; not supervising, not under my responsibility. He said taking care. And once more, it felt intimate. Perhaps you were seeing too much again, wanting to be more important than you were… and yet, you couldn’t help but feel warmth involve you as his words sank in, as if they were a soft blanket in a cold night.

Even if you were seeing too much, you decided to hold onto his words, to keep them as a cherished little secret.

But things didn’t go exactly like that – and you needed to make it clear.

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“You don’t need to try to comfort for me, Ruby…”

“No, listen to me.” Alucard was caught off guard by your abrupt interruption. “The night creature was going to bite Annette. Those injuries – they were going to happen to her. So I took them instead. She wouldn’t have survived that.”

He seemed speechless for some moments. Then, he quirked one eyebrow up only slightly. “...Wasn’t it a bit extreme?”

Maybe it was his tone that showed how weird he thought you were, but for the first time that day, you managed to chuckle, covering your mouth with your hand. Your reaction surprised Alucard a bit.

You tilted your head to the side. “I was trying to be useful,” you confessed in a tiny voice. “Not dying is the only thing I’m good at, apparently. So I decided to use it to someone else’s advantage.”

Alucard sighed. “Don’t have such little care for yourself. Just because you heal, doesn’t mean you should put yourself through all this willingly.”

That sounded like a reprimand, although he wasn’t being harsh. It made you hesitate. “But… Annette was going to die.”

“I understood that,” he nodded. “And I’m sure she’s grateful to you beyond words. Just try to be more careful from now on.”

It was your turn to nod. You knew he meant you no harm.

Maybe you were still a bit groggy from sleep, or maybe it was the proximity to him and the touch of his hand, or the fact that he appeared a little more open to conversation at that moment that made you feel a little brave – braver than you’d usually be.

You inhaled before talking.

“And I think–“ oh shit, this is a terrible idea. But you’ve already started, so go all the way! “I t-think you were a little too harsh with Richter back there.”

Alucard froze.

That’s it. He’ll hate me from now on. Our little moment will be over, and he’ll just be aloof with me forever.

“So you were conscious.” Was all he muttered. He seemed… hesitant. His eyes tightened a bit. “Is that so?”

You gulped and avoided his gaze.

“I understand that what he did was foolish. But I was there at the moment–“

“Is that so?” His voice almost made you throw yourself out the window – he wasn’t loud and he didn’t sound exactly upset… no, he was teasing you. That was another first.

“...and I know he didn’t do it with bad intentions at all.” You tried to conclude, feeling your cheeks burn. “Richter is… he’s too young, you see? A-And–“ You had to gulp again. “And he admires you a lot. Maybe more than you realize. I think… I think he wouldn’t want to let you down.”

Alucard sighed.

He crossed his arms over his chest, letting go of his grip on your forearm for the first time. And then, you saw it again, that glimpse from the forest: something juvenile about him that he kept very well hidden or very well controlled, at least.

Alucard was almost pouting, in fact.

“I know all that.” He nodded. “But I’ve been searching for Sekhmet’s mummy for the past five years, you see. And the entire mission got compromised because a boy couldn’t keep his mouth shut.”

You didn’t know how to reply to that.

“Oh.” Was all you muttered, feeling a little silly. It was Alucard’s turn to chuckle.

“I understand your point.” He looked up at the ceiling, his eyebrows turned slightly upwards in something that looked like a tired expression. “I guess I’m not used to being around young people anymore. I might’ve… forgotten how they mess up constantly.” For his next sentence, Alucard spoke inwards, almost through gritted teeth: “Well, I guess acting like that grants you two women defending you all the time, so it must be worth it…”

“What?”

“Nothing.” He shook his head softly. It looked like he wanted to smile, but you weren’t sure. He analyzed you for a moment, then sighed. “I know that ideally, you should rest for the rest of the day, but we’re in a critical situation right now. I must speak to the Revolutionary Commune and the National Convention to warn them about the incoming attack… and you must come with me.”

You nodded. It’s not like you were planning on sleeping anyway; you’d already brought them enough trouble in a single day. Alucard got up from the bed and retrieved his belt, coat and sword, which was leaning on the wall.

“This inn serves food, so I suppose you should eat something before we leave, at least.” He explained as he put the coat on. Oh… so you were in an inn. Right. “And I got you new clothes. There’s a basin with water, too, so get changed.”

Indeed, there was a change of clothes neatly folded over the small desk, which surprised you a bit. When and how did he get you that?

However, as Alucard was starting to step away, another memory from earlier that day hit you like a boulder; you gasped and held his wrist.

“Wait.”

The white-haired vampire looked down at your hands around his wrist, then at your shocked expression and frowned.

“What is it?” He immediately sat down again, his full attention over you.

A strange anxiety made your heartbeat increase. How could you have forgotten about that?

“I know we don’t have time to waste on distractions,” you started in a hesitant, yet rushed tone. “But I must go to the Louvre again.”

His frown deepened. “Why?”

“I found something there.” You looked up at him with round eyes – a mix of amazement and fear, perhaps. “When I was trying to hide from the night creature. I found this… thing inside one of the boxes. And it reacted to my touch.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know how to explain it. But it was… it was magic. I think it’s a scepter, though I’m not sure. And there’s writings on the same language from the book. Remember that book I talked about? The book they made me read to summon the eclipses?”

Alucard nodded. He held his chin, pensive.

“It’s not a surprise that there’d be magical items there. Many antiques carry magic. Museums are full of these things, though I doubt the curators are aware of any of it.” He hesitantly looked up at you. “It… might not mean much.”

“But it might mean much.” Out of instinct, you gripped the fabric of the skirt nervously and looked down. “I’m sorry for asking you this. I don’t want to slow you down. B-But I feel that’s important. I… haven’t remembered anything important up until now…”

Except the memory of you father, you thought, but I won’t talk about that with you yet.

The seconds he took to speak again felt like torture. Finally, he sighed.

He rested his hand over your nervous ones. You froze.

“I guess I should find us a horse, then.” Alucard didn’t sound upset at your request. “Luckily, the Louvre isn’t far from here.”

You looked up at him. At that moment, the smile was impossible to hold back.

“Thank you.”

Alucard smiled back – one of his tranquil tiny smiles, his eyebrows slightly curved upwards.

It probably didn’t last more than three seconds, but in your head, that little moment extended for much longer. It was enough to make your stomach feel funny, and this time it had nothing to do with the pain you endured mere hours ago. The warmth radiating from his hand over yours seemed to spread through your whole body. Was it inappropriate to admit that you liked it? Should you be ashamed of yourself? Did Alucard felt the same way, even if it was just a fraction of the feeling?

...the ambrosial smell, the honeyed taste…

Alucard closed his eyes for a moment.

“Let’s hurry.” He got up again. “Can you stand up on your own?”

A part of you wanted to say no just so you could have an excuse to hold his hand again, but you were far too embarrassed to even try something so sly. You got up and grabbed the change of clothes. It smelled of soap.

Alucard was already holding the doorknob when you remembered another very important thing – and it immediately made your cheeks feel burning hot.

The type of gown you wore wasn’t made to be easy to dress or undress on your own.

“Hm, Alucard…” you called, which made him stop and look at you. “Could you… help…?”

You sheepishly pointed to your back with your thumb.

You weren’t brave enough to look at him.

The fact that Alucard hesitated a second to answer made you want to run away.

“Oh. Of course.” His voice didn’t show any surprise. The white-haired vampire let go of the doorknob and approached. You turned around, holding the change of clothes close to your chest, your back as stiff as a board.

The fact that you couldn’t see him didn’t make the situation easier. You could feel his presence right behind you, standing so close; when his fingers touched the lace of the corset, you instinctively held your breath. His fingers were agile and precise, his touch was feather light.

That felt awkwardly intimate.

Maids always dressed and undressed you. They didn’t really care about being delicate whenever they touched your body. They despised you, and you despised them, so these acts never felt intimate. At that moment, however…

Don’t think too much about it, you scolded yourself. It’s nothing special.

You’d like to tell that to your bubbling stomach.

Once again, you probably had a really distorted notion of time, because although Alucard was being fast, it felt like it took him ages. He untied the lace up until a point where you could finish it yourself.

“Done.” He announced in a quiet voice.

You managed to mutter a strangled thank you before you heard his steps and the sound of the door closing behind you.

Only then did you breathe again.

You got rid of the destroyed gown as fast as you could. There was a cloth inside the water basin, which you used to clean the dried blood from your body the best way you could. As impolite as it was, you had to spit out the window, trying to get rid of the horrible ferrous taste that still lingered in your tongue.

The clothes Alucard gave you were more similar to what you saw other women wear on the streets: a long sleeved white blouse, a skirt at mid-calf height and a sleeveless vest that shared the same moss green tone. Your closet consisted on either beautiful ball gowns or simple nightgowns, so to be able to wear something so light and so easy to dress by yourself was a relief.

There was a small mirror hanging on the wall. When you saw your reflection, you immediately wet your hands and passed them through your hair, trying to lower the wild strands, and decided to tie it in a tight bun.

That’s when you saw the last piece of clothing you hadn’t noticed before.

It was a ribbon tie.

As you looked at yourself in the mirror, your fingers working on tying it, you… noticed something.

The dress was simpler than what you were used to wear, yes – it wasn’t something for a special occasion, after all. But… the chiffon collar was quite pretty. The vest and the skirt were well sewn, too, and fit your body perfectly. The cufflinks of the blouse were golden. And the bow tie… its color complimented your eyes.

It didn’t exactly seem like it was an outfit chosen in a hurry. It looked like… some thought was put into it.

Your cheeks felt hot for some reason.

Don’t think too much about it, you repeated. It’s nothing special.

At last, you opened the door. You were surprised to see Alucard leaning with his back on the wall beside it, his arms crossed.

His eyes wandered on your entire figure, though his expression didn’t change.

You held his cape and gloves nervously and cleaned your throat.

“I believe they’re dry enough now.” Alucard nodded and took them. While he put his cape over his shoulders, you hesitated before finally voicing the question: “May I ask how did you get wet?”

“I fell in the Seine.” He replied in a deadpan tone, his eyes glued on his hands as he put the gloves on.

“Oh.”

Finally, he lifted his gaze to you again.

He stepped closer.

For a moment, it seemed that he wanted to say something, which made you look up at him in expectation. He was… expressionless. Maybe. But there was something you couldn’t decipher in his eyes. Something you weren’t brave enough to ask. Something that appeared… inviting, somehow.

Don’t think too much about it. It’s nothing special.

Alucard’s eyes dropped to your collar.

You held your breath when he touched the ribbon tie delicately. Did he nod in an almost imperceptible motion or were you imagining things?

“Let’s go.” He said in the same nonchalant tone as always before walking towards the stairs at the end of the corridor.

You were frozen in place for a few seconds.

Don’t think too much about it. It’s nothing special.

Yes, right. Ninety percent of your brain agreed on this. You were under his responsibility, after all. Alucard wasn’t especially rude towards anyone, as far as you knew (well, except for Richter sometimes). That’s how he acted with everyone. And besides that, you had much more important matters at hand. There wasn’t time to be distracted.

Yes, right. You walked towards the stairs in a hurry to match his pace. Don’t think too much about it. It’s nothing special.

Right.

And yet – the tiny ten percent of your brain kept stubbornly whispering in the back of your consciousness:

Was it not, really?

[grandline-fics]

Immune To Your Charms

DESCRIPTION: Soulmates are incapable of harming the other in any way. Normally that would be a good thing but not when you're meant to be enemies.

WARNINGS: It's Doflamingo so it features mentions of killing/ injury/ general violence. Soulmate! AU

CHARACTERS: Doflamingo

WORDS: 1,649

A/N: Part of the Good For Your Soul Series. I hope you all like how this turned out as much as I did. This is my first time writing for Doflamingo so hopefully I got his personality right enough

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST

Chapter One (here) | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine | Chapter Ten | Chapter Eleven | Chapter Twelve | Chapter Thirteen | Chapter Fourteen | Chapter Fifteen(coming soon)

——————

Your Marine unit’s task had been a simple one, stay hidden and observe. That was it, any criminal activity was to be recorded for physical evidence and reported immediately. No interference at all. Your superior believed that this group of lowlifes were working directly under someone else, someone bigger and they were who they wanted to take down, not a bunch of easily replaced criminals. The only way to completely rid the evil and corruption of the town was to go for the root. That had been the plan and everyone had stuck to it as they had been ordered. That was until one of the newer recruits with a thirst to prove himself decided to be reckless. 

The second there was confirmation that the criminal group had a large stockade of weapons, ammunition and barrels of explosives in the nearby warehouse the idiot acted. They believed if they destroyed such a valuable haul then it would surely draw their target out from the shadows. You and the others who were more experienced of the unit drilled it into his head that it wasn’t a wise decision. Not only could a lot go wrong with potential endangerment to civilians but it was also not part of anyone’s orders. For a moment you thought he listened but as you turned in for the night you didn’t like the look you caught in the cadet’s eyes. 

It was just as well that you couldn’t sleep because it meant you were able to catch the cadet sneaking out of your encampment. Swearing under your breath you grabbed your weapon and pulled on your shoes to hurry after him. If you could get him back to camp without any harm done he could still keep his job. That had been the plan anyway but he’d managed to make use of his head start and snuck into the warehouse before you got there. You slid to a stop outside the warehouse and felt a chill run over your spine despite it being a comfortably warm night. You'd been so focused on catching up that you hadn’t noticed that there was no-one guarding the warehouse. Even for a group of low tier criminals there would be no way they would leave such precious cargo unattended. Panicked you looked towards the warehouse as the faint sound of a match being struck sounded.

In a blink the explosion boomed through the air, your body being thrown back and crashing loudly and painfully through the stacks of crates behind you. Ears ringing and vision swimming you hit the ground and tumbled until the momentum died off leaving you flat on your back and blinking through the pain and choking on the smoke and ash hanging heavily in the air. You managed to roll onto your side and shakily braced your hands onto the cold ground to push yourself up. You winced and gasped sharply at the feeling of your ribs grinding painfully, protesting any movement. Something was either cracked or broken and only now did you feel the wetness of blood against your head spreading against your cheek. 

For a moment you foolishly dared to think it could have been worse but then as you sensed people approach you knew better than to tempt fate. Of course those that had set the trap would make themselves known. One by one your sight took in the figures of those you’d been observing but then sauntering behind at a relaxed pace and amused, wild grin shaping his face was the Warlord Doflamingo. The bright flames burning what remained of the warehouse glinting against his silhouette only made him appear more menacing. In that moment you knew there was no getting out of this alive. The warehouse of weapons was his operation, if he let you live to report to your superiors it could be enough to revoke his protected status as Warlord and that wasn’t an option. 

You knew that nothing could be done. You were outmatched by him and seeing two new individuals lingering behind him told you he had more subordinates lurking. If he'd had enough time to rig the warehouse to explode then chances were he already knew about the rest of your unit too. If he didn’t know then you weren't going to be the one to give them up. Remaining on the ground you reached for your gun, glaring at Doflamingo when his laughter began to fill the space between you. His steps remained leisurely as he continued to advance towards you. Her was the grinning cat and you were the wounded bird, he could take his time and he certainly wasn’t afraid of your silly little pistol. However his smile twitched when you turned the barrel towards your own chest, not his. Now that was curious but boring. 

For the first time that night he put effort into his movements and closed the distance, his large hand closing over yours and disarming you with a simple tug. Frustrated at not even being allowed to go on your terms you glared furiously at the man in front of you. The adrenaline was wearing off and the pain was getting stronger. “I’m not going to tell you anything. Just kill me and be done with it.”

“Oh I don’t need you to tell me anything.” Doflamingo chuckled, playfully spinning the gun on his finger with one hand while this others flexed to let you see the faint glimmer of his strings. “I do need you to do something for me though. You’re going to deal with the rest of your unit and then I’ll kill you. How’s that sound?”

“Sounds awful.” You spat out at him, angered that you’d suspected right and he knew about your unit and also devastated that you couldn’t save them. You knew a small amount about Doflamingo’s abilities from talk at the Marine base but hadn’t witnessed it for yourself. It was just another sickening addition of salt on the wound that you’d be forced to kill your unit, your friends before he would be bored enough to end you with that power. “Can you at least knock me out before you control me to do it?”

Doflamingo chuckled once more, intrigued by your attitude. He'd encountered begging, desperate attempts at buying their life, defiant bluster that they’d never do as he wished, but he couldn't recall someone be so accepting of their fate but still so headstrong. For a second he considered your request but then decided no, he wanted you to be conscious for the fun. With a twitch and arch of his fingers he used his strings to make you his puppet. He rose from his crouched position in front of you and looked down in confusion to see you hadn't moved as he directed. His stretched grin lessened as he moved his hand again, a clear order for you to lift your arm into the arm but it didn’t budge. You were unaffected. 

With laboured breaths you tilted your head up to regard him silently, that fierce look never leaving your hazy, pain-filled stare. You were waiting for him to take control of your body. If he waited any longer you would pass out from your injuries. Now he was in no mood for his tormenting games. Keeping his hand by his side and hidden by the mass of pink feathers he created a new attack, one to slice your throat with enough force to take your head cleanly from your neck. 

You shivered as a sudden wisp of air sped over you and then you flinched to hear the grating of stone. Glancing back you saw the deep gouge cut into the ground behind you, a long but clean line. Unconsciously Doflamingo took a step back from you with your head turned. Something was wrong. His power wasn’t working. Just who were you? What had you done? Anger and a sudden feeling of power being tipped from him he turned sharply and sent his threads at his low ranked underlings, feeling a rush of satisfaction to see their bodies jerk in complete surrender to his Devil Fruit. Wordlessly he commanded them to advance to where the other Marines were, to kill them like you had meant to. “Wh-what are you doing?“

Doflamingo turned and watched you force the power into your heavy limbs, the force of the explosion taking their toll on you. Slowly you pushed into the ground once more to try and make yourself stand but that was the final straw for your body to handle. With a groan, you crumpled onto the ground, unconscious and completely at Doflamingo’s mercy, that was if he actually had any. As Doflamingo continued to stare at you he heard Diamante approach, his elite officer just as confused by what went wrong. “Doffy? What happened?” 

“A complication.” Doflamingo answered, trying once more to attack your defenceless form with your own pistol but the bullet whizzed by you even though his aim was perfect and struck the ground less than inch to the left of your head. He couldn’t risk someone like you being allowed to remain out in the open but deep down he couldn’t give the order to the others to kill you. He told himself that he wouldn’t do that, not until he knew exactly what your strange power was. For all he knew others out there were capable of such feats against his powers too. Until he knew the cause and how to ensure he could deal with it he wasn’t taking any chances. In the distance Doflamingo heard the sound of gunfire and yelling as his men attacked your unit. With a huff he crouched down and lifted you over his shoulder. “Come on, we're going home. Send their picture to Vergo, I want to know exactly who I’m dealing with.” 

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TAG LIST (If I've missed anyone or if you want to be added just let me know) @3v37773, @tsaaps , @i-am-all-love-puns-and-lazy , @sanemisnonexistenteyebrow , @fiery-captain-spider-santa @kabloswrld , @atanukileaf , @ane5e , @stuckinthewrongworld

[themdera]

George Clarke replied to your story.

2,172 words. Green circle. Red Circle. what’s the difference?

It all started a few weeks ago when George had posted a random Instagram Story asking fans to add him to their close friends lists so he could rank them for a YouTube video—“best, funniest, cringiest, whatever,” he’d promised with that ridiculous smile. Your group chat had of course collectively lost their minds.

“Oh my God, we have to do this,” someone had declared, already tagging him in a story.

You’d rolled your eyes at first. Sure, George was funny, creative, and admittedly attractive, but you weren’t about to feed his ego by crafting some elaborate story just for his amusement. Still, in the chaos of everyone else freaking out, you’d ended up adding him anyway. Not to make the cut for his video—you didn’t post anything remotely funny or interesting enough—but just to shut the groupchat up. And honestly, you forgot to remove him after.

Then came the thirst trap.

It wasn’t even planned. You’d been bored, playing around with some poses, when your friends dared you to post something from the many photos you’d sent them, a simple selfie where the light hits your face and hair in the perfect way, just to mess with people. It had been a joke, like everything else on your close friends, and you’d captioned it, “This one’s for just you ;)” to really sell the bit.

No one actually expected him to see it.

But George Clarke, the man with an unbelievably high screen time, saw everything. The notification came in mere minutes after you posted it. GeorgeClarkeey replied to your story

“Me?” one word. That was all it took.

“Girls” You typed very quickly

Cue the group chat imploding.

“WHAT DID YOU DO?!” your friend types back know the message “Girls” meant something had happened.

“George replied to my story”

“HE WHAT?”

“He’s going to think it’s serious.”

“Can we talk about how he responded in record time???”

“He’s going to make this a thing. I feel it in my soul.”

The replies came in at record speed. Sure enough, George wasn’t done yet.

Another message popped up while you were still processing the first: “Wait. That was for me, right? Like… actually?”

You groaned, tossing your phone onto your bed. What the hell was going on? George Clarke had a talent for this shit, and now you were directly in the middle of it. Of course it wasn’t specifically for him. It was a joke, a dumb joke fueled by group chat dares and late-night boredom. But now George Clarke was in your DMs, actually engaging, and you had no idea how to navigate this.

You sat down on your bed , unlocking your phone to stare at his messages through your notifications like they might explode if you opened them. What the hell were you supposed to say to that?

“Me?”

“Wait. That was for me, right? Like… actually?”

It wasn’t for him. Not really. But at the same time, it wasn’t not for him, and there was no universe in which you could explain that without sounding ridiculous.

Your phone buzzed again.

“Take your time, I’ll just sit here wondering 😏.”

You groaned, throwing your head back. Why was he like this? Why couldn’t he just scroll past like a normal person? Better yet, why did you still have him on your close friends list in the first place?

The group chat, of course, was zero help.

“Just say it was for him. What’s the harm?”

“Tell him it’s a metaphor. Keep him guessing.”

“Confess your undying love and ask him to follow while you’re at it.”

You sighed, finally flopping onto your bed and opening the messages.

“What if it was?” you typed, hesitating for a moment before hitting send.

Immediately, your heart dropped into your stomach. What had you just done? Before you could spiral too deeply into regret over your reply, another notification popped up on your screen.

GeorgeClarkey started following you.

You froze. What the actual fuck was going on? Was this some elaborate joke for his video? Was he about to screenshot your profile and blast you to his friends and his followers as part of his next roast video?

Panic set in almost immediately. You scrambled to your profile, fingers flying as you opened your highlights. What did I even have on there? Your close friends was one thing, but your highlights were public.

The first highlight was fine. A sunset. Very normal. The second was a random dog you’d seen on a walk. Also fine. The third? Oh God, the third. A blurry photo of your face captioned, “Why am I like this?”

You cringed, hitting the delete button, but before you could delete anything else, another notification lit up your phone.

GeorgeClarkey replied to your story:

“Ok but… jokes aside be honest. Is this about me?”

Your group chat exploded before you could even blink.

“HE FOLLOWED YOU?!”

“Shut up. He did not.”

“Bestie, you’re famous now.”

“Oh my God he did! i checked his profile! Did he post anything? Has he said anything else?”

You ignored them, heart pounding as you stared at the notification. This couldn’t be real. George Clarke, internet golden boy who had every teenage girl in a chokehold, was actually engaging with you.

What the hell were you going to do?

You stared at George’s message, your mind racing: “Ok but…jokes aside be honest. Is this about me?”

Before you could fully process it, your fingers moved almost instinctively, opening the group chat. You switched to voice notes because typing just wasn’t fast enough to convey the absolute thoughts in your head.

“Guys,” you hissed into the mic, pacing your room. “What the actual fuck is going on? George Clarke just messaged me again. AGAIN. And he said—wait, no, let me read this. He said, ‘Ok but… jokes aside be honest. Is this about me?’”

You paused, pacing more furiously as all your friends started typing back.

“I don’t know what to say!” you continued in the next voice note, your voice slightly higher now. “Like, do I admit it? Do I deny it? Do I block him and change my name? HELP ME.”

The replies came in almost instantly:

“Post the screenshot right now.”

“Oh my God, you’re in a rom-com.”

“Say it was about him and see what happens. Do it for the plot.”

“Voice note us back with the drama or don’t bother replying at all.”

You rolled your eyes, even as you hit record again.

“Okay, fine. I’ll reply. But if this ends with me being clowned in one of his videos, you’re all accomplices.”

With one final deep breath, you typed out:

“Maybe it was. Maybe it wasn’t. What’s it to you?”

Your thumb hovered for a second, but then you hit send, immediately regretting it as your phone buzzed with another notification.

“Oh, it’s something to me. 😉”

You groaned, sending yet another voice note to the group chat.

“I AM GOING TO SCREAM. He just said it’s ‘something to him.’ WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?!?”

Your friends weren’t helping, their replies now a chaotic mix of screaming voice notes and unhinged texts.

“He’s into you, bestie.”

“We’re living for this. Keep us updated.”

“I’m adding popcorn to my grocery list.”

Whatever George was playing at, it was… kind of fun.

You stared at his message: “Oh, it’s something to me. 😉”

Your heart thudded as you typed out a response, fingers moving on autopilot: “How come?”

For a second, you debated deleting it. Was that too straightforward? Too bold? But before you could overthink it, the message was already sent.

The group chat was on fire.

“WHAT DID YOU SAY???”

“Tell me you asked him why. PLEASE.”

“I’m pacing my room like it’s my drama, what is happening???”

You sent a quick voice note: “I asked him how come. Like, if he’s going to be cryptic, I’m making him work for it. I can’t just let him drop a winky face and get away with it.”

Your phone buzzed before the group could reply. Another message from George.

“Because now I’m curious. Was it really for me?”

You blinked at your screen. Curious? Curious?! Why did he have to phrase it like that? Like this wasn’t a throwaway Instagram post but some grand mystery he needed to solve.

You hit record on another voice note.

“GUYS. He said he’s curious. What the hell does that mean?!” you whispered furiously. “I’m spiraling. Do I double down? Do I back out? Help.”

The replies were just as unhinged as before.

“Double down. Always double down.”

“Tell him it’s his fault for making you curious too.”

“Can we just talk about how into this he clearly is? Like, bestie, he’s invested.”

You shook your head, biting your lip as you typed your next message.

“Maybe it was. Maybe it wasn’t. But now I’m curious—what if it was?”

Your thumb hovered for a moment before you hit send, already bracing for whatever chaos George Clarke was about to unleash next.

The notification popped up almost immediately:

GeorgeClarkey: “Well, if it wasn’t, how come I’m on your close friends and none of my friends are?”

Your jaw dropped. Oh, he was good. Too good. George Clarke wasn’t just playing along—he was winning.

You immediately switched to the group chat, hitting record on a voice note.

“Guys. He’s onto me. He said—and I quote—‘How come I’m on your close friends and none of my friends are?’” You paused, your voice rising in pitch. “WHAT DO I SAY TO THAT?”

The group chat blew up in record time.

“HE SAID WHAT?!”

“Oh my God, this man is flirting.”

“Deflect. Blame it on the algorithm. Lie if you have to.”

“No, no, you need to hit him back with something. Don’t let him win!”

You sent another voice note, pacing your room as you spoke.

“I don’t even know why he’s still on my close friends! It’s not like I planned this—he asked to be added for that stupid video, and I just forgot to take him off. But if I tell him that, he’s going to think I’m some kind of idiot who forgot George Clarke was on their list!”

One of your friends sent a voice note back, barely able to contain their laughter.

“Bestie, you are an idiot who forgot George Clarke was on their list. But now you’ve got him interested, so lean in. Own it. Say something mysterious.”

You sighed, staring at George’s message for a long moment before typing:

“Guess you’ll have to stick around to find out.”

Your heart was racing as you hit send, half-expecting him to call your bluff immediately. Instead, the little typing bubble appeared almost instantly.

“Don’t mind if I do. 😏”

You practically screamed, sending another voice note to the group chat.

“Guys. GUYS. He’s not just flirting. He’s doubling down. What do I do now?!”

The replies came back rapid-fire:

“Marry him.”

“This is officially fanfiction territory.”

“No, seriously, keep him on the hook. This is your moment.”

You didn’t George’s last message—“Don’t mind if I do. 😏”—because honestly, you needed a minute to think. Or maybe several. So instead of spiraling over how to respond, you stuck to your plan.

Ignoring the little red dot on his message thread, you switched to Instagram stories and posted something casual to your story: a cozy shot of your coffee on the table, framed by the warm tones of a London café from last weekend. The kind of post you always shared on quiet afternoons. You added the café’s location tag for good measure, captioning it simply: Need this.

The group chat was, of course, waiting.

“Update: just posted,” you said in a voice note, trying to keep your voice steady. “It’s a café pic. Totally chill, very me. If he reacts to this, I’ll… I don’t know, scream.”

You barely had time to put your phone down before it buzzed with a new notification:

GeorgeClarkey replied to your story.

Your heart jumped as you opened it.

“Good taste. But why didn’t you invite me?”

You sat there, staring at the message like it was in a foreign language. George wasn’t just reacting—he was flirting. Again.

“GUYS,” you hissed into a new voice note, pacing your room. “He replied. And get this—he said, ‘Good taste. But why didn’t you invite me?’ Like, is this man serious?!”

The chat erupted in chaos.

“Shut up, he did NOT.”

“He’s basically asking for a date. I’m calling it.”

“You better reply, right now.”

But you weren’t ready to give in that easily. Typing back too quickly would make it seem like you were waiting for him (which you definitely weren’t). So instead, you left his message on read, letting him sit with it while you debated your next move.

Another voice note: “I’m ignoring him for now. Let’s see if he doubles down.”

And honestly, you weren’t sure what thrilled you more: the fact that George Clarke had replied, or the fact that he was now waiting on you.

———————————————————————-

a/n my first george fic! there will be a part two! the formatting hasn’t worked the way it should have but i’ll work on it!

would like to thank George Clarke for seeing my close friends which then let to @pretendyoucantseeme who gave me the idea and @authortelevision for supporting the delusions. love you both😂

if you wanna be tagged in part 2 please let me know!

[steddieas-shegoes]

A little thing based on this post because it wouldn’t leave my brain:

“I just don’t understand why you won’t try to read it.”

Steve had heard Dustin say this exact sentence hundreds of times at this point.

“I mean, do you know how to read?”

Mike was an asshole. Steve loved him because he was part of the group and he’d been through the same things, but he was such a dick.

“Yes, I know how to read. I just don’t.”

Dustin rolled his eyes.

“If you don’t wanna read nerd shit just say so.”

Steve threw his arms up in frustration.

Steve was a nerd at heart. As a child, he would beg the nanny to take him to the library and the science museum that had real dinosaur fossils. There was something about the peace of exiting his reality and finding a new one among fantasy and history that was indescribable, even to this day.

But as he grew into his looks, he grew out of that phase. At least around others.

And with no nanny around to take him places, he settled for just being the popular guy who hung out with his friends after practice and threw parties at his forever empty house on Saturdays.

But secretly, he still found himself enjoying books late into the night. Never school books, or his grades would’ve been good enough for college, but always incredible novels that took him to other worlds with the most impressively brave people.

And then he lived a nightmare. A few times over. With concussions at every turn.

Now, anytime he tried to read, his head started pounding, his vision got blurry, and ears would start ringing. He stopped trying altogether after Starcourt, but he’d never really let go his love of books.

He occasionally let Robin read to him, but she would get distracted by a plot or character and go on a tangent, leaving Steve confused about what the actual story was. He hated being confused.

“Stevie, you got a minute?”

Eddie had been watching from his spot at the end of the table, where he’d been cleaning up the mess of D&D. He usually made the kids do it, but he’d let them off the hook tonight when they beat the monster and escaped his trap.

Steve and Eddie were friends, definitely. Maybe not close ones, but friends.

Steve had a little crush, definitely. Or a big one. Maybe.

So when Eddie shows him attention, he somewhat shamefully receives it like he’s dying of thirst in a desert.

Robin is the only one who’s noticed so far, but if he keeps acting like a dog being called by his master anytime Eddie talks to him, someone else will comment on it.

“Yeah, what’s up?” Steve asked as he made his way to Eddie.

The kids took this time to talk amongst themselves about the game and what they think will happen next week, and Steve couldn’t have been more grateful.

“You don’t have to tell me, but.” Eddie was tapping his fingers nervously against his leg. “Do you not know how to read?”

“Uh. No I do. I mean I graduated high school. I know it’s hard to believe.”

“Not judging if you can’t, man. I mean, I took three senior years. I’m the last person who can judge.”

“Yeah, but you’re smart. You just didn’t like school,” Steve replied with a pat to his shoulder.

Eddie glanced down at the contact, eyebrow raising and then falling back to normal quickly.

“Just seems like you’d have read something by now to get them off your ass.”

And that’s a really good point. Maybe he should’ve just suffered through a migraine so they’d leave him alone about it.

But migraines left him out for days sometimes, and he couldn’t exactly afford that right now.

“I guess it’s just not worth the migraine.”

He hadn’t meant to actually say it. He didn’t want Eddie to feel bad or for him to try to make him feel better about it or ask questions or talk about the concussion thing.

Actually, did he even know about the concussion thing? Things?

“You get migraines when you try to read?” Then realization hit Eddie hard. “Steve. Do you like reading?”

Something about the way Eddie was looking at him, like he was sad for him but not pitying him, made Steve want to cry.

“I used to, yeah.”

“Everyone out! Your parents are gonna have to come get you! No questions, no explanations, go!” Eddie yelled to the room.

Everyone stared blankly at him before they started protesting, Dustin loudest of all.

“Steve’s my ride!”

“Not anymore. Hitch a ride with Lucas.”

“But Lucas’ mom always squeezes my cheeks and tells me she hopes I never lose my baby fat.”

“She speaks for all of us. Get the hell out of here!”

Steve was actually impressed. Maybe a little turned on? God, he was a disaster.

As everyone cleared out of the room, Eddie patted the seat next to him. When Steve sat down, Eddie scooted his chair so close to him, his knees were touching Steve’s.

“Alright, so you’re gonna tell me about what books you like and what books you want to read and we’re gonna get started.”

Steve blinked at him. “Huh?”

“You have a list I’m sure.”

“Yeah, but…”

“Okay, then we better get started.”

“I mean, I’ve tried. I appreciate it, but even focusing on one page makes my eyes burn and my head hurt.”

“Got that. I’m not asking you to read.”

Sometimes Steve was worried the concussions had actually knocked some screws loose. He wasn’t getting it.

“I’m gonna read to you, Stevie.”

“You don’t have to do that. I’m sure a lot of them will be movies and I can just watch them.”

“It’s not the same. You know it’s not.”

He was right. Steve didn’t have much patience for movies. And sometimes even those gave him migraines if there were a lot of bright lights and explosions.

“Yeah. But still. You don’t have to do that. You might not even like the books.”

“Ah, this isn’t a completely free service, my liege.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “I don’t have extra money to pay you, dude.”

“Not money. I get to pick a book to read to you when we finish the first book you pick.”

“Is it The Hobbit?”

“It is,” Eddie looked so smug.

“Well, that was my first choice,” Steve stared back, equally as smug.

“So, your house is empty.”

“Yep.”

“And I’m assuming you own this book.”

“I do.”

“And it’s getting late.”

Steve looked out the window at the pitch black skies.

“It’s late.”

“So I could stay and read you to sleep.”

“Won’t I miss some of the book?”

“I’ll stop when you’re asleep.”

Steve’s heart was practically begging him to say yes. Eddie reading to him in his bed? Possibly falling asleep together? Maybe even waking up together? It couldn’t be a better proposition. Well. It could.

“Will you stay even if I fall asleep?”

Eddie smirked. “If that’s what you want, sweetheart.”

It wasn’t the first time he’d called Steve that, but it was the first time it felt like he meant it in a non-teasing way.

“Okay.”

So they both changed into some of Steve’s comfy clothes, got into his bed, and Eddie started reading The Hobbit.

Just as he was during D&D and real life, Eddie was animated, providing different voices for different characters and often giving long pauses to let Steve soak in what the words meant.

Steve didn’t even have to ask him to do that. He just did.

Steve fell asleep somewhere between halfway and the end of chapter two, but Eddie stayed.

And they woke up the next day with Steve’s head resting on Eddie’s chest, Eddie’s arms wrapped around him to keep him as close as possible.

They finished the The Hobbit in a week, and because Eddie was now committed to making sure Steve was well-read, they started moving through his list rapidly, falling for each other in new ways every time Eddie turned a page.

Part 2 (Angst)  / Part 2 (Fluffy) /  Part 2 (Explicit)

[scarefox]

Imagine saying that open queer actor couples should not act together as ships in series because that makes it look fake and fanservicey and as a fan you just want them be a "normal" couple 🤨

First of all couples can do with their relationship whatever they want as long as they are fine with it. They could live stream their whole sex life if they wanted to. It's nobody's business to tell them what to do.

And second: wtf kind of warped mindset is that... that all closeness and affection is seen as fake fanservice... Here is a little mindblowy: fanservice can be real. As in actors actually enjoying it (I don't mean relationship status but in these cases even that is real then). Regardless if they are solo, in a acting ship or a real couple they all can enjoy it if they do it from their own will (which is often the case).

The word Fanservice does not mean fake-dating or pretending! It means giving and teasing fans with what they like and the other side is willing / consenting to give. Which can be anything erotic, thirst trap pics, visual aesthetic photoshoots, reading a book ASMR style to help you sleep or even just singing a cover song fans voted for. But there are also literally real (non actor) couples on certain adult sites publishing content together for their community... all that can be fanservice.

Actors who are couples playing couples on screen can be fanservice, yes, but that does not make it fake or wrong or degrading their relationship?? And sometimes it's not even meant as fanservice in the sense of erotica, but simply doing neat projects for their fans.

Also imo relationship goals?? I think it would be cool to be an actor couple, playing different characters together. If you are into that.

[ioniansunsets]

If you have time can you do headcanons for HEARTSTEEL Ezreal x K/DA fem!Reader? It's totally okay if you don't want to!!(≡^∇^≡)

✖ Heartsteel!Ezreal x K/DA!Reader ✖

✖ Word Count: 1.3k

✖ Tags: Established R/S

✖ A/N: Sorry for taking a while with this! I hope I did him justice. He is just a lovable idiot with your best interests in heart to me 💚💚💚

----

xxxx Day to Day xxxx

- He was a brat, an absolute whiny brat when your schedules don't line up. Ezreal is Complaining, begging and whining, incessantly pestering your managers to adjust things so he can spend time with you. His thoughts are plagued by you 24/7 and he wants nothing more than to just Be with you. Reluctantly he would still go to interviews and fan meets, but whenever he's on break he's sending you voice messages, sending you photos, drooping you messages on how he misses you.

- Ezreal would totally skip out on practices to run off and be by your side. Being in the same production studio totally helped. Blinking past higher ups and security to knock furiously on your studio door. Ahri sighing as she opens the door for him. Ezreal happily walking in like it is as much his studio as it is yours. " Here to visit my love, don't mind me girls!" Happy giggles erupting from his lips as he runs up to your side. He would totally just sit cross legged nearby, cheering as you pull off a dance move. Or jokingly learning the same set and joining in when you dance.

- If you were to visit him during his practice instead, he is ecstatic, suddenly a one take wonder whenever you are near. Of course he'd have to be perfect, you were watching him of course. Ezreal would also throw cute heart hands, heart fingers, blow kisses, throw his top off at you. All the embarrassingly cute things that just make him, him. The other boys in the band tease him, little loverboy becomes such a chummy mess around you it is almost surprising.

- This lovable loser would totally thirst trap and give you targeted fanservice. When you were apart Ezreal is the kind of guy to lift his shirt up and take a photo of him and his abs in the mirror to send to you. " Looked super cute today! Sucks that you aren't here to check it out yourself. Teehee." If you save any of these photos, don't tell him, it'll actually make him embarrassed instead. The way he immediately freaked out and told you to change it when he saw you set his photoshoot photo as your phone wallpaper, he cannot handle such love coming from someone he loves back just so much. One sided adoration was normal for him, seeing you love him back? His heart is thumping out of his chest.

- The kind of guy to serenade you in a high school boy kind of way, sneaking into the garden area below your window, throwing rocks at your window until you wake up and check it out only to see him with a ukulele loudly singing love songs he knows you like. The only reason it wasn't embarrassing was just because he was actually good at it, he was a singer so his voice was just so beautiful you can't help but forgive him. Of course he'd wait patiently to be let into your house after, laughing as you tell him he didn't have to sneak around to get in. He did it for the romantic fun of it, not because he has to.

- Ezreal is also rarely insecure, but when he is, he goes to you. You being a professional in the industry too, and also being his lover meant you were specifically the only one he trusts to hear his fears and appropriately comfort him. Worried about his voice not being good enough, his dancing being too erratic, his looks not being just perfect. Only when you tell him, with all your own experiences as a professional, that he was doing fine, amazing even. Or that everyone in the industry feels this way, it was just part of the job stress, would he finally calm down. " Thank you...I really needed that..." Soft whispers as he hugs you, your hands in his hair calming him down as he tries to breathe.

- And if it came to you? Panic setting in before a big interview or performance? He is your personal hype man. If anyone can make you feel better about yourself it was Ezreal. He loves you oh so much and has just as many reasons to back it up. Telling you how your cute smile always leaves his mind a fuzzy mess, how he loves your voice so much he sleeps to your solo records, how he watches compilations of your performances because he really loves to see you dance, there was nothing about you he doesn't love, and he is sure your fans feel the same way. He is just as big of a fan of you as you are of him, its hard not to love him for that.

xxxx Touring xxxx

- Ezreal hates that he has to hide his love for you on stage. Sure the adoring cries of cute girls and guys from the crowd was nice but where is yours! Why were you so busy that you haven't seen his selfie! Holding back any negative feelings he would still perform as well as he could on stage. He understands that you had your own performances so you couldn't watch all of his but he is still sad and pouty over it!

- If you were hidden in the audience, the moment he spots you its a 180. Suddenly even more energetic than usual, he can't help but to hop and blink closer to the audience, trying to give you a high five before blinking back on stage. Ezreal having to explain to Alune later why he was breaking rules. But all he would do is sheepishly laugh and apologize, knowing full well he would do it again. He was just so drawn to you afterall.

- Ez is the kind of loving boyfriend that would totally buy you over the top gifts and get them delivered. Almost every location you perform at, a bouquet is personally sent to your dressing room. Always your favorite flowers, sometimes a cheesy love poem written in the card, but always sent to you before your performance. The kind of " Hey, I can't be there but I will be watching you from here <3" reminder that leaves your chest feeling warm.

- If Ezreal is in the audience? He doesn't hide it, rumors be damned, he's a fan he loves you! He hides it enough at his own stage lives, he is going all out with your fans. Lightsticks, fansigns, tees, ita-bags, he has it all. He loves you and wants Everyone to know he's a fan. VIP tickets, man is always right in front jumping and cheering, screaming fan chants, embarrassing you but also just making it so fun! He is in queue with his VIP pass for a Hi-touch too, embarrassing considering how he is already always snuggling you in your private time, yet here he was in public sneaking even more skinship from you.

- It's no longer any doubt to fans that Ezreal loves K/DA but whether you two were a thing? That was a mystery. He loves the fans shipping the two of you together though, he might not be allowed to openly declare his claim over you but, this was cute enough to satisfy him. He has a side fan account for you that is surprisingly popular with fans because for some reason, this account seems to always grab sneakily good photos of you in public.

- When you do hop by backstage to wait for him, he goes fucking crazy. The kind to happily yell your name as he runs and jumps into your arms. He loves you so much and so brightly, peppering your face in kisses, bragging about his perfect performance, excitedly telling you how some fans threw him gifts on stage. A warm smile as he places his sunglasses on your face, " Not bragging to make you jealous, I hope you know you're my one and only." A small kiss on your nose as he pulls away, flashing you a charming smile.

[killerpancakeburger]

Bloody nose // Miguel O'Hara

Pairing: Miguel O'hara x female reader

Summary: You find out that your 14yo niece is spider-woman and are very pissed about her keeping it a secret from you. But as you're lecturing her, her boss from the spidersociety shows up. Needless to say you are not happy to see him.

Warnings: canon violence, swearing, mention of alcohol drinking.

Tags : comedy, action, slow burn, Reader has superpowers, but is neither a hero nor villain, BAMF!Reader, Reader takes no shit, Miguel takes a beating but he's fine I promise, no use of Y/N.

Words: 2539.

A/N: Haven't written fics in years and its my first time writing one in English so, uh, go easy on me i guess? 😅

Part 2

The night was falling on New York. The booming laughs of your coworkers were resonating in the bar where you were spending your evening after work.

Being a bodyguard/security guard meant working in a field oversaturated with testosterone, but you made it work somehow. After all, a demonstration of your powers was always enough to deter any doubts on your abilities, and the rare stubborn ones left who harassed you about it were eventually convinced by a good beating. You quickly gave up on hiding your powers, since no one who saw you get shot and walk away with bruises would believe you were normal. But that's when NDAs came in handy. All in all, you liked your current company, your boss, and your teammates. To the point of spending time with them outside work, which meant a lot coming from you.

You're sipping your beer on a stool as usual, listening in on the conversations, when a notification makes you look at your phone. It's a text from an unknown number with a file attached. The text, laconic, says: "Thought you might wanna know about this."

When you recognize what's happening on the picture you received, you spit out your beer in shock and start choking.

"What the fuck!" You manage to groan.

Unfortunately your behaviour haven't gone unnoticed by your coworkers, and before you can say anything else, they start poking fun at you.

"What's happening to you? Can't handle your alcohol anymore?

"I know the beer is bad but its not that bad. You're gonna give the barman a complex."

"Did you receive a thirst trap or something?"

You do not grace them with an answer.

Beyond the good-natured mockeries, you see your closest colleague discreetly checking that you're not really choking to your death.

You have no time to lose. You finish your glass in one shot and gets up. Protests and falsely upset booing rise around you.

"It's way too early to leave!"

You cut short the argument with two words: "duty calls", which everyone of them know is code for “urgent private family matters”.

You grabs your leather jacket, your helmet, you dump a bunch of cash on the counter than is enough for your drinks, tips, and more, and you get out of here like the devil's on your heels.

Once outside, the fresh air helps to clean your mind. You take a deep breath before you start texting the number from earlier.

"Surely you wouldn't sent me this without coordinates?"

You can hardly stay still waiting, but the response comes up barely a minute later, with coordinates and a sarcastic message: "She's on top of an abandoned building of 50 floors. So have fun with that."

You swear at the new information. "Great! Just fucking great!"

You straddle your motorbike and take off like a shot. As you drive, the photo you received is stuck in your mind. Naomi, your 14 years old niece, wearing some kind of superhero suit, sitting carelessly on the ledge of a building. Between her recklessness and the fact that she kept being apparently a freaking superhero from you, when you've always been close, you feel your blood boiling. You imagine how the upcoming confrontation will go. Will she be ashamed? Panicked? Angry?

Not sticking exactly to the speeding limits has you right where you want to be in a short time. You inspect the building from outside. Abandoned means no electricity, and no electricity means no elevator for you... You leave your helmet and your bike behind. You assess the building, noticing large enough grips for climbing, and figure out how high you can get just by jumping. Then you walk backwards a few meters, take off running, gathering speed, and leaps as high as your superhuman body can. As soon as you reach the peak of your jump, you grab the closest ledge. Secure in your climbing, you start your ascension, going as fast as you can. Missing Naomi because you were too slow is out of the question.

You soon reach the top and dust yourself off a bit before going after your niece. The bright colours of her suit makes her easy to catch. You sneak behind her, ready to catch her if she falls, and calls her full name in a tone that betrays your frustration. You hate sounding like a parent grounding their kid – there are reasons why you’ve never had one after all –,  but it's too late now.

She has more or less the reaction you were expecting – she flinches hard, and turns to look at you with a melange of shock and horror that makes you feel like the Grim Reaper coming for her life. She puts a hand on the back of her neck in embarrassment, and offers you a smile that looks like a grimace more than anything else.

“Au-auntie… what… what are you doing here…?”

She lets slip a nervous little laugh as she gets up from the edge but keeps a distance from you.

You cross your arms and looks at her sternly, trying to communicate with your glare that she better not try to bullshit you.

“I’m the one who should be asking you that question.”

The grimace widens and she avoids your gaze. You notice beads of sweat forming on her forehead.

“Oh well it’s a funny story, see-“

“What the hell are you wearing? Are you trying to be a superhero?”

“I’m not trying-“

She seems insulted at the assumption, and regains a bit of confidence for the first time since you arrived.

“You really thought you could hide this from me?”

You are her only family member with superpowers, even if you never tried to be a superhero.

“Oh auntie, it’s not like that…”

She looks genuinely sorry, like she understood that you felt hurt by being shut out.

“Then what is it? I can’t believe you hid this from me. I’m not your dad. I wouldn’t have been mad at you. Did I make you feel like you couldn’t tell me?.”

You sigh and bow your head with a disappointment you can’t contain.

Naomi makes a step towards you, worry on her face, extending her arm like she wanted to comfort you.

“Listen, it’s not that I didn’t want to tell you, but they made me promise not to…”

Your eyes open wide in horror and realization dawn on your face. Your whole body tense.

“They? Who the fuck is they? Are you being blackmailed?!”

You can’t help from raising your voice. Panic surges through you. You’re not one to lose your cool easily, but your niece is the exception to the rule. You’ve loved Naomi unconditionally since she came into this world. She could probably become a murderer and your feelings wouldn’t change. However, since her mother died – since your sister died –, she became the apple of your eye. You’ll be damned before you let anyone harm her.

Meanwhile Naomi panics too, but for what seems to be considerably different reasons. She grabs her hair and start walking in circles.

“Damn it! That’s not what I meant… I’m not supposed to… I promised I’d… Crap! Listen, I’m not being blackmailed, I swear!”

“Oh yeah? Then what-“

You’re interrupted by an incessant beeping that you quickly identify as coming from some kind of watch Naomi’s wearing. You narrow your eyes in defiance. You’ve never seen that thing before.

“What is that?”

Before you can finish, Naomi hurried to, quite uselessly, hide the watch behind her back.

“NOTHING!”

Another nervous laugh.

The beeping doesn’t cease.

You pinch the bridge of your nose with a mix of irritation and weariness at her shenanigans.

“Naomi. Whatever this is, make it stop.”

Reluctantly, Naomi brings the watch before her and pushes a button on the side of it. A flip screen deploys. Immediately, a male voice blasts from it. Its owner sounds riled.

“Naomi. I was expecting your report three hours ago. Explain yourself.”

 His commanding and uncompromising tone immediately rubs you the wrong way.

“Oh, hi Miguel… I just… uh… I’m about to send it, I just ran into some… trouble…”

You post yourself at your niece’s side and get a peek of  “Miguel”.

His striking red eyes are the first thing that catches your eye – you’ve never seen a hero with ones. Only villains. His face is broad, his features defined and his jaw unyielding. His thick, dark eyebrows are frown and his full lips aren’t smiling. Dark brown, pushed back hair that reaches the back of his neck frames a visage that must be pretty when not stuck in a perpetual expression of irritation.

Before he can formulate in response what obviously seems like criticism, you grab Naomi’s wrist, bring the watch closer to your face and articulate as clearly as possible :

“Consider this her official letter of resignation, dipshit.” You end the call.

Naomi instantly starts screaming in protest.

“Auntie! What the hell! Why did you do that!?”

“Is that fucker pressuring you? Who does he think he is, talking to you like that?”

“No! It’s not like that!” She sounds intent on defending that rude asshole. “He’s just… argh, I’m not supposed to tell others about the Spider Society!”

As soon as she finishes her sentence, she puts both hands on her mouth, as if it could stops her from blurting out more classified information.

“The Spider what?”

She shakes her head, mimicking the action of zipping her lips, and keeps a stubborn silence.

You roll your eyes at her childish antics and decides that enough is enough.

“I’m gonna get answers about this, whether you’re the one telling me them or not, are you aware of that?”

Silence. You put your hands on your hips and sighs.

“Whatever. I’m bringing you back home. And I’m telling your father about this.”

Suddenly her lips come undone.

“What! NO! Auntie, come on!”

You shake your head, implacable, and starts leaving, knowing she’ll end up following you anyway.

“This is not a negotiation, kid.”

“Nooo, you can’t do this to me! Please! He’ll ground me til adulthood! I’m begging yo-“

Naomi’s whining suddenly come to a halt as you start hearing some kind of… music? Coming from behind you.

*Spider-Man 2099’s theme starts playing*

[Insert "Why do I hear boss music?" meme.]

You turn around to see some kind of unstable orange-red hexagon floating over the ground and the man from the watch exit from it. You stay speechless, blinking in incomprehension.

“What the fuck.” You let slip under your breath. You’ve seen more strange phenomena than the ordinary mortal but this is something else entirely.

Unfortunately “Miguel” didn’t wait for you to come back to your senses and took advantage of your silence to start admonishing Naomi.

“Not only you let a civilian discover your identity but you showed them your watch? How much did you tell them?”

Miguel’s appearance seems to have turned your niece into a frightened mouse. She takes one step back for each he makes towards her, and you’ve never seen her so thoroughly shaken. Each words coming out of her mouth sounds like it’s tripping over her teeth to get out.

“I… I didn’t tell her anything… w-well I said the word Spider Society once but…”

Miguel grunts in frustration.

“ I knew it was a bad idea to take you in.”

You post yourself protectively in front of Naomi and are forced to note the size difference between him and you. He is massive. But you quickly pull yourself together – your strength always put you on top, even when your enemy had 30cm and 30kg on you. You narrow your eyes and throw a murderous glare at the man in costume.

“Leave her alone. She did nothing wrong.”

He immediately argues back.

“You-“

“I followed her here. There’s nothing she could have done to stop me.”

“Auntie has powers too”, pipes up Naomi behind you.

“Great, fantastic. Does that mean you’ll keep your mouth shut about this?”

You can feel your anger raising in your chest like a wave.

“There won’t be anything to shut my mouth about, because Naomi’s superhero’s business ends here and now.”

“But-“ starts Naomi.

“It’s out of question. This world needs a spiderman to protect it.” Announces Miguel like it’s law.

“Then find another spiderman!” you exclaim, exasperated.

“There is no other Spiderman.” He hisses back.

“Aren’t YOU a spiderman?” You gesticulate in direction of his suit.

He passes a hand over his face like explaining this to you is the bane of his existence.

“I’m the spiderman of Earth-928. There is no one else who can do this.”

“Tough luck.” You snap back. “My niece isn’t going anywhere.”

The tone between you two keeps raising, and soon you’re engaged in a shooting match.

“It’s not up to you. Her being spiderman is a canon event.”

You look at him like he’s insane – he must be.

“It’s a WHAT? No, wait, I don’t care. Deal with your own shit and leave my family out of it.”

You illustrate your words by shoving him hard in the chest, and he’s pushed back a few meters. His eyes flashes a bright, menacing red, and you swear he’s about to pounce on you when Naomi get between you two, arms outstretched in each of your directions.

“Don’t fight! We’re all on the same side!”

“He wants to use you!”/ “She can’t be reasoned with!” you both shout.

“The town needs me, insist Naomi in your direction.

You take your head between your hands.

“Can’t the town wait til your majority?”

But as the words leaves your lips, you already know how senseless they sound.

You sigh hard. Pinch the bridge of your nose. Knowing you are going to regret immensely what you’re about to suggest.

“What if I did it instead?”

“No.” reply instantly Miguel, a harsh expression on his face.

You roll your eyes. He could at least hear you out.

“Think about it for a second, smartass. I have had years to master my powers, contrary to a teenager. I have combat experience with both humans and supers. I’m a bodyguard. It’s literally in my job description to identify threats and neutralize them while protecting other people. I know how to work with a team and on my own. You won’t find a better recruit anywhere else.”

Never in your life you would have imagined presenting your resume to Spiderman, but looks like things are only gonna get crazier.

Miguel grunts, like agreeing with you was physically painful for him.

“Fine.”

“See, I knew we could come to a compromise!” Naomi beams. “Miguel is meaner than he looks, she adds to your intention. Well except for the time he threw a desk at me but-“

“He threw a WHAT at you?!” you scream in astonished rage. The fury who accumulated inside you all evening boils over.

“You fucking piece of shit!” You snarl at Miguel. He doesn’t have the time to react. You punch him in the jaw hard enough to send him flying through one, two, three buildings before you stop counting.

[milk-crater]

Hey!

For fic prompt - Strickpage, can't think of a word but I feel like the picture gives enough of an idea 😁

This was fun! For this prompt, Hangman has to be the little dog who thinks he's being smooth, right? Right? ***

Swerve knew Hangman followed him on all his socials: trading romantic barbs online was kind of their thing. Swerve sometimes wished it wasn’t, wished that rather than tagging each other on borderline sexually graphic fan art they could cross that line IRL, but his cowboy was seemingly too shy, too skittish. Would take a staple gun to Swerve’s chest but his ducked his head at the hint of a kiss. So whatever.

But then a user liked an old thirst trap photo of Swerve’s from two years ago. Swerve had lots of fans and haters which meant a lot of notifications. It wasn’t uncommon for folks to troll through his social media to either drool over him or try and dig up shit. But for some reason this ‘like’ caught Swerve’s eye. It had all the hallmarks of someone slipping up and clicking ‘like’ when they meant to be lurking: they had only liked this single pic, late at night.

And then there was the user name. ‘V-Lover.’ Yeah, sure that ‘V’ could stand for a lot of things. One of them might be ‘Virginia.’

After that V-Lover got bolder, liking just about everything Swerve posted. And fast. He even left a few comments. On a pic with Swerve covered in blood, he’d commented ‘You never looked better.’ And then on his rope bondage pic ‘I was wrong, you look better here.’

And then, on a pretty normal shirtless pic, any plausible deniability dropped: ‘God you’re so hot.’  

“I looked into his user profile like you asked, Boss,” Nana reported. “No name on file, but there is an email. It’s a school email from a teacher’s university. The same one that...”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” Swerve said, happy to have his suspicions confirmed but not wanting all the mystique gone by having Nana say it aloud.

So Hangman was not only following him outright on social media, he had a little sock puppet liking all his spiciest pics.

Should he call Hanger out? Or ignore him and let him have his fun?

Swerve opted for a middle ground. He did his makeup and lay in bed and took selfie after selfie. In the end he chose one that looked sexily but also somewhat natural like Swerve had just woken up from a nap next to a lover.

He posted it with a caption: This ones for you, V-Lover.

He waited, curious to see if this would scare Hangman off.

V-Lover liked the post a minute later.  

[erikahenningsen]

sneak peak of the politics au 👀

“And?” Cady says.

Regina’s brow furrows. “What?”

“Do you have anything to say to me?”

Regina thinks for a moment. “You should get your pants tailored instead of rolling the hems up.”

“That is not what I meant,” Cady says with a huff. “You’re seriously not sorry about trying to get my bill pulled?”

“I was correct,” Regina says with a shrug.

“Council adds bills late all the time!”

“And I’m normally feeling more charitable than I was today,” Regina says pointedly, and Cady begrudgingly accepts that Regina isn’t going to apologize.

With a sigh, she takes a seat and sips her whiskey, then downs it like a shot. She looks around the chrome kitchen. “So this is where you live?”

“I thought you had a PhD.”

Cady makes a face at her. “Who told you that?”

“You, you fucking weirdo,” Regina says, giving her an odd look. She refills Cady’s glass. “Every higher ed hearing it’s when I was in grad school this and when I was a professor that. Kind of self-absorbed, actually.”

Cady ignores the jab. “You watch the higher ed hearings? I’ve never seen you come to one.”

“Doesn’t mean I don’t watch,” Regina tells her, sipping her drink.

Cady feels warmth bloom in her chest, although she’s not sure if it’s from the alcohol. “Just my hearings, or…?”

“You’re so obsessed with yourself. I watch other hearings.”

Cady snorts. “Right. I’m the self-absorbed one.”

Regina’s eyebrow quirks. “What does that mean?”

“I just mean…” Cady waves vaguely at Regina. “Your whole thing, you know?”

Now Regina looks genuinely confused. “I don’t think I do.”

“The hair, and the nails, and the nice suits,” Cady says, feeling her face heat a little. She’s aware she should probably stop talking. “You look like you spend an hour on your makeup just to go for a run.”

Instead of getting mad, Regina rests her chin on her hand, looking amused. “Thank you,” she says. “How do you know what I look like on my runs?”

Cady looks down into her glass. “Um, well, you post selfies sometimes, so…”

Regina laughs, delighted. “I didn’t know you were a fan.”

“Shut up,” Cady grumbles, asking herself for the tenth time how and why she ended up here. “You watch my hearings.”

“Um, but your job isn’t to look at my thirst traps.”

“So you admit they’re thirst traps.”

“Everything I post is inherently a thirst trap.”

“Can we talk about something else?” Cady asks desperately. Her head is starting to spin a little from the alcohol��she’s always been a lightweight and she rarely drinks, which doesn’t help with her tolerance.

“No, I want to talk about you thinking I’m hot,” Regina tells her.

“I don’t.”

“This is my house, and I didn’t want to have to use this, but I do outrank you.”

[unioncolours]

Jinchuuriki Temari pls pls PLSSSS 💜

And congrats on 60 subscribers wohooo!! 💕✨

Thank you, Mon, for your suggestion and ask ❤✨

This is part of my 60 subs challenge, feel free to check it out.

This is only PART ONE of Jinchuuriki Temari, and part two will come in connection to another ask 🥰 Part two is linked below.

Please keep reading if you fancy 🖤

BLOOD AND GOLD

part one | part two

Word count: 764 words

Tags: Jinchuuriki Temari. Blood and gore, I guess. Meet-cute, I guess?? VERY Canon Divergent. Canonverse.

It was supposed to be a cave just for shelter, but it turned out to be so much more. When Shikamaru together with Ino and Choji walked inside to hide from the harsh desert sun, they had immediately known something was off with the cave. It tingled of chakra and reeked of blood.

“We should turn back,” Ino said. “This chakra is – it’s not normal.”

The rattle of chains coming from the darkness startled them.

“Shit,” Choji whispered. “Something is in there.”

“Or someone,” Shikamaru finished. They pondered for a second whether to go back and not meddle in whatever scary business this cave had in store for them, but later decided that investigating would be worth it.

“This something is a someone,” Ino said when they walked deeper into the mouth of the dark.

They had never expected to find someone chained by rusty chuffs to the mountain wall of the other side. The wall was worked with metal, gold and sand, and the cuffs vibrated with chakra none of them had sensed before. It was a prison. A deserted prison.

The ’someone’ in question was a girl with sand blonde hair, arms cut and bruised, and a malicious snarl on her lips. She had to be a bit older than them, as her jaw was strong any and all resemblance of childhood had vanished from her face.

“Hello?” Ino whispered when they got closer. “What have they done to you?”

“Release me,” the girl demanded and stood up, not being able to keep a straight face out of pain when her joints in the shoulders straightened out from the uncomfortable position her arms were forced into. The chakra cuffs rattled and seemed to cut into her flesh even more. The trio winced at the sight of it. If not hunger and thirst kills her, an infection will.

“Why have someone chained you here?” Shikamaru asked.

“My father wants to kill me,” the girl spat and tossed her head back, revealing shining green eyes behind her dirty fringe. “Let me free for fucks’ sake.”

“Don’t move,” Shikamaru said when Ino took a step forward. “It can be a trap.” He grabbed a kunai and the girl laughed a raw and sarcastic laugh at the sight of it.

“I’d not do that if I were you,” she laughed.

“She is not an illusion at least, she is real,” Ino said. “But there’s something off with her chakra.”

“Best to stay away,” Choji mumbled.

“You are three against one, what could possibly happen?” the chained girl snorted as she leaned against the wall. The gold in it was off, Shikamaru thought. Why would there be gold melted into a wall meant to keep a prisoner? “Give me water at least. Postpone my death by a day, if you please.”

“What is your name?” Shikamaru asked. “You’re someone of value, aren’t you?”

“Ah, so my flesh has a price,” the girl laughed. “How comforting to hear. Go on, take an arm and sell it for good money.”

“Ha, ha,” Shikamaru said.

“It’s best not to agitate her,” Choji whispered.

“Agitate me, agitate me?” the girl snarled. “It takes a lot to agitate me.”

“What is your name?” Shikamaru asked again, now definitely more demanding. “Tell us, prisoner.” He walked closer to her, closer than he anticipated and closer than he would want to, but there was something about this prisoner which drew him in, unwillingly and cruelly.

“My name is…” The girl whipped her fringe out of her face once more. “My name is Temari of the Sand.”

Shikamaru was not standing right in front of her, kunai hard in his grip in case she did something suspicious. He could kill her right now if he wanted – that that he did, but the idea crossed his mind. In case she was dangerous, for she was not a civilian, nor a common shinobi. She was valued and kept prisoned away from the closest settlement. She was someone.

“Tell me, Temari of the Sand, why your father wants to kill you,” he asked.

Temari smiled, exposing razor sharp canine teeth.

“Shikamaru, step back,” Ino gasped and Choji swooped Shikamaru away from Temari with an expanded fist. Shikamaru grunted at first, annoyed, but all gasps got stuck in his throat when the earlier green eyes were no more.

What stared back at them were black eyes shining with gold in the middle of them.

“What is she?” Ino asked, rhetorically.

“What am I, what am I?” Temari smiled. “I am me. The jinchuuriki of the Sand, doomed to die.”

tbc one beautiful day ~

[northopalshore]

Hello☀️💜I really appreciate your work and had a question. Are there any indicators in astrology that might explain feeling left out in matters of love.? Every crush i had they somehow ended up liking my friend/sibling anyone close to me

I have an 8th house stellium, and I was wondering—does having Venus in the 8th house also suggest challenges in love? Also, I have Jupiter in the 1st house, but it’s debilitated in Capricorn. Could this play a role too?

♀ Hello

I don't think there is a specific " other woman" placement, but there are certainly different scenarios that could contribute to that. Normally, with your placements I wouldn't categorize this as one of the aforementioned scenarios but more so that this may be related to your love life journey/karma.

8th house stelliums go through a lot of versions of themselves throughout their life; their main goal is to shed all the baggage & unnecessary commitments to get that metamorphosis their soul craves. With Venus here, it's evident that your love life won't be easy. Only because what you crave is real love.

Even if you start playing hooky, or think of settling down with mediocrity, & shallow attractions the universe will pull the carpet from your feet and force you to change. You yourself know you deserve better, but sometimes it just takes outside forces to see that.

I have a friend with Venus in her 8th house. She loves as deep as the word deep could ever go. Loyalty comes with that. I can only imagine the amount of pain she felt when her ex left her for someone she considered her "best friend". She herself acknowledges that he was never certain with his attraction towards her (constantly off & on) but she waited soo patiently for him to decide (8 years was it..?)

The universe gave her signs from him himself; he's awful (basic ass men attracted to nothing but physical appearances & shallow romantic tropes; one of her other friends caught him commenting suspiciously on a minors' thirst trap on Tiktok 💀) But she kept believing, so.. even though I hate what happened to her, I know it's for the best. I truly believe a part of her knows that too. Her 8th house stellium assures me that both her intuition & heart are very in tune with the way the universe works, even if she has trouble expressing that.

I don't know if she's noticed, but sometimes I did catch her looking at her ex-best friends account. Every time I do, I want to just sit with her & tell her I love her. I hope she's alright now.

⊹ .₊๋ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋ ⊹ .₊๋ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋ ⊹ .₊๋ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋ ⊹ .₊๋ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋ ⊹ .₊๋ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋ ⊹ .₊๋ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋

That being said, in your case it could mean something similar; the men that you're attracted to are just not meant for you. They aren't good for your soul. You deserve genuine love, one where your partner shares the same depth & ideal as you. Know that this placement is protecting you in the long run.

⊹ .₊๋ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋ ⊹ .₊๋ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋ ⊹ .₊๋ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋ ⊹ .₊๋ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋ ⊹ .₊๋ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋ ⊹ .₊๋ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋

Hope this helps!

[celtrist]

Can there be an unusual bad ending? Like a twist? I’ve read some of your Hazbin bad endings but at a certain point you can kind of see where it’s headed. What if there’s a last second twist? You don’t need to answer this, just see it.

(Btw, I also have pics and will consume your art)

Yeah... there's definitely similar themings with a lot of the endings. But I don't know if there's any particular twist with any of them? I usually refer to my version of things as loosely canon tbh, because

I can be easily swayed with ideas from others haha

Even the bad endings I've done can kind of fluctuate. Take Niffty's for example. There's sex content in it, but for the most part she just likes keeping Alastor around like a doll to have tea with and the like. And if someone JUST wants to focus on that aspect, they can. That obviously doesn't change that I fall back on certain themes though. The obsession AU is always meant to have a level of fluctuation between dark and lighter stuff (it's why, other than the endings (or at least Val's and Vox's), nothing dead dove-y happens to Alastor within the main story. The most that happens is just drugging, but no flat out noncon.) But I just happen to genuinely believe most of the characters would kind of be driven sexually because, the Obsession AU is also supposed to poke a bit of fun at how the fandom thirsts so hard for this guy who more than likely wouldn't be interested in the slightest! But again, I fully admit it's probably something I fall back on a bit. I'm kind of assuming that's what you meant with the "seeing where it goes" since that is a frequent narrative with all the endings. I tried not to make it a sticking point unless it's important to the character (*COUGH* Valentino *COUGH*). I did try to make sure not everyone was that though as it makes sense to the character. Husk, Angel, and Rosie (and Sir Pentious since he'd be the most different in having just a "normal" relationship) aren't interested in that stuff really and primarily either just hurt physically or coddle Alastor. But yeah, there's still certainly present elements there still in those endings to some degree (particularly angel's, but in retrospect, I feel like I'd go back and just say he doesn't do anything like that to Alastor flat out, but I dunno :/)

If you're talking a bit more in general with them all sort of just... trapping Alastor in some way? That's just how I imagine Alastor would end up in a bad end. The only one he fully goes into willingly is Vox (and maybe that's sort of the twist you'd be looking for?). Other than possibly Mimzy but I have very little idea what her bad end is. Alastor, in this AU, is romance & sex repulsed. So he wouldn't be happy in ANY of these bad endings (that's the "canon" to this AU anyway, but people can play around with the idea of him being genuinely in love with one of the other characters if that's what they want) But I'm guessing it's not really that as much as the other things you're talking about.

But I'm not really sure if there's any good second twists for any of them (I'm not entirely sure what you mean by "second twist", but I do just flat-out agree that the endings can get a bit predictably repetitive)? I tried to keep each ending having some level of uniqueness to them, but some of them do blend with one another... and you can kinda see which ones I didn't know what to do with. Like honestly? Charlie and Lucifer were such a pain, I had no clue what to do with them so I'd say they're pretty boring (I mean, they're obsessions are already similar too, so that doesn't help :/). Niffty I kind of had an unclear idea with, Angel Dust I only knew "Well he drugged him, and... that's it?". Same with Vaggie honestly. I've talked about her in this AU with an anon, but I still struggled to come up with much with her other than forced-fem stuff.

It sucks because I do think something could be better done with these characters, but I just can't think of many and as a result, I think that's what leads to sort of leaning on the sex aspect of the bad ends. To use Charlie and Lucifer as examples again, they were originally just gonna have no mention of that stuff, but I felt like they needed more, so then added that stuff (I even had to give Baxter's thing about giving Alastor "medicine" to be a good husband to Lucifer if that tells you anything. Ahhhh but maybe I could've had Lucifer like to give his insides to Alastor or something? Vague but off the cuff thought). Heck, Valentino, FREAKING VALENTINO, I just- I didn't know what to do with the guy.

Thinking about it now, it could've been waaaaaayyyyy more interesting if he actually WASN'T interested in having sex with Alastor or watching Alastor do it. And now that I say that, I regret being so predictable with him. It would've been so interesting to have Alastor waiting for it to happen and having occasions that feel close, but Valentino never does because he just wants to be close to Alastor, just not sexually. It also would've been subverting the OBVIOUS with his character- GODDAMNIT PAST ME. Tbh, I can see myself potentially doing revamped versions of these bad end stories to make them not as predictable in the future, or try to anyways. I also meant to have them done and scheduled a month in advance... and then I didn't and made myself a bit of a time crunch of getting some of the endings done in time. So that probably didn't help. Not to say the endings would've been drastically different, but some of them potentially could've been thought out better :/

If you have any ideas, I'd love to hear them! I'm admittedly pretty loose with the "canon" of the AU. I don't want it restricted to only my taste and creativity, so I'm pretty open to people playing around with the AU in their own way. Whether that be through the bad endings or different aspects (like again, Alastor is aroace in this AU, but some people can totally play with the idea of him being bi or whatever they want. I don't particularly mind).

But yeah, I'm sorry there's not any big twists for you with the endings. I'm a bit new with doing the more darker content and ideas, so I just fall back on a lot of the same probably (and there are just some things I don't want to touch myself since I DON'T want to romanticize or do anything in poor taste). Like, I have another AU I've only mentioned called the Unwilling Bride AU, and it's- it's a bit of the same thing we've been seeing in the endings. Just more story driven (and Charlie and Alastor having the parent-child relationship because I was always a sucker for that relationship in the pilot days between these two. Even now I still like it, it's very sweet. Or at least them having a weird mentor-student but also sorta close but not quite parent-child relationship.)

Not to say I only have dark AUs btw, let that be known I have other ones. I think this one and the Unwilling bride are like, the only dark AUs I have. One of my favorites is Who Murdered Charolettte Morningstar, but it's something that I think would fit best as a whole ass fic (since it's more of a story than an AU per se, but also you can tell from the title that obviously it's not exactly canon-compliant lol). I've thought about just dumping all the old sketches I have for some of those aus/stories and letting people look at them because I don't know when/if any of them would see the light of day. But I digress ^^

[crownedinmarigolds]

The Stakebait Coterie! Khloe and her boys are out there saving the Atlanta Waterbloods or get Final Death'd trying! (I'll type it all beneath the cut because I know.. my handwriting)

The main characters of the Poisoned Peach - ATL by Night chronicle my beloved is running for me! Khloe is my character, and the boys are my unbeatably dope team.

Name: Khloe Mariah Osbourne

Born: 05/04/1993, Embraced: 2022 by a Ventrue, came out Thinblood, Physical Age: 29

Height: 5'5", Hair: Dark Brown, Eyes: Hazel, Gender: Miss (She/Her), Nationality: American

Likes: Coffee, True Crime, Tabletop RPGs, Being a Minx, Staying Busy

Dislikes: Disappointing Others, Being Unprepared, Not knowing what's up, Her body, Tiktok-Style Ads

A little history: Khloe grew up the only child of very normal people who nastily divorced when she graduated high school. An avid reader and over-thinker, Khloe has immersed herself in many fantasy worlds and strategy games to the point where she seems to think of everything. A people pleaser who has a lot of good acquaintances yet no friends, the lack of companionship was hard-felt when COVID rolled around and kept everyone inside. Had a few partners, though none lasted. One night after visiting her mother, she found herself on a backroad all alone, save for the oncoming headlights that may be straying in her lane. (Where the Poisoned Peach begins!)

Name: Kyle Johnson

Born: 2/3/1994, Embraced: 2020, Sire unknown, but came out Thinblood, Physical Age: 26

Height: 5’10", Hair: N/A, Eyes: Sexy-Boy Brown, Gender: More man than your man (He/Him), Nationality: American

Likes: Feeling needed and helping others, Parties, Drinking cocktails with stupid names, Reasonable reactions.

Dislikes: Being late, people that CAN help and just don't, the MINIONS, Improperly labelled content warnings.

History: His mom was a nurse, her mom was a nurse, and so on. His sisters didn’t want to carry on the tradition, so he decided to go into the medical field himself as an EMT. The stress of the job brought on early balding, but he thrived both on the clock and in the club. One night, he drank a few too many and he woke up in a dumpster the next night, completely clueless. The sunlight began to hurt, nothing sat right in his stomach. Everything was the same yet all so different, better and worse. He spiraled, confused and depressed, until the Dusk Angel found him and helped him come to terms with his new existence. Now Kyle proudly helps the Thinblood Revolution as a kind face to help ease the new blood in, just as he had been.

Name: Randolph "Ralph" Gaylord King III

Born: 10/09/1996, Embraced: 2021 by a Nosferatu, came out Thinblood, Physical Age: 25

Height: 6'5" (Even pre-Embrace, him just big), Hair: Brown (Has to shave the remnants every evening, used to be long and thick and in a man-bun), Eyes: Yellow-Orange (Brown pre-Embrace), Gender: BOI (He/Him), Nationality: American

Likes: Guns, Bad Jokes, Strategy Games, Annoying Christian, Being a right menace

Dislikes: Himself :(, Whiny people, Beer, Signs with sayings meant to be taken serious.

Some Background: Born in St. Louis Missouri, Ralph had a pretty standard lower middle class upbringing. He followed his father and older brother and joined the army when he turned 18 right out of high school. Years of prep and hard work paid off as he went through candidate courses, eventually making it into Special Forces. His career was short-lived however after losing his right foot on his first deployment. Depression and dead-end jobs seemed to be his future until as a joke he started posting thirst-traps on social media, but it got real when his follower count spiked and sponsors started making offers. He was thrown into the life of an Insta-Thot - specifically Fitness Inspo - ultimately landing him in a party in Atlanta, Georgia, where his soon to be sire, Bill - a jealous and spiteful Nosferatu - lurked. Ralph was alone as he stumbled to his hotel room, and Bill could contain his hate no longer. To him, Ralph deserved to be as ugly on the outside as Bill thought he had to be on the inside. Little did Bill know, he messed with the wrong guy.

(Not written due to lack of room, we clearly don't play favorites here...) Eventually found in the sewers by the Dusk Angel, Ralph now serves in the Thinblood revolution, using every skill he's acquired in order to get revenge against the Fullbloods.

Name: Christian Ottavio

Born: 01/16/1989, Embraced: 2017, Gangrel sire but came out Thinblood, Physical Age: A rough 28

Height: 6'1", Hair: Dark Brown, Eyes: Brown, Gender: The MAN (He/Him), Nationality: American

Likes: Beer, Relaxing nights spent inside, Napping, His truck

Dislikes: His family, Wearing tight jeans, Bro-Country music, Fullbloods

A bit of background: Born and bred in Georgia into a rich family with ideals he couldn't wrap his head around. Went into the workforce at a young age in an effort to escape them and be on his own. He's had to sleep in his truck many a night, but eventually got everything together enough to get a roof over his head. That was until some uppity lick decided to draft him into the army of the damned during the Atlanta Sabbat civil war. He was one of many forced to fight during the schism, and one of the few to come out "alive." Before his sire could take him behind the proverbial tool shed, Christian was saved by the Dusk Angel, and now is a proud Thinblood freedom fighter.

[outsideratheart]

https://www.tumblr.com/outsideratheart/727869660632072192/is-this-a-thirst-trap-picture-for-jenni-jenni?source=share

Funny (ridiculous) comment coming from anyone (you) posting on Tumblr lol Are you kidding? Not normal? The entire site is for stans, fandoms and fan fiction but some how fans are too invested in actors, singers, athletes private lives? Your comment to the anon was rude and hypocritical specific to this site. Over investment is what the entire site is! That's the purpose. so if you have an acct on this site then over investment goes for you too. If you're so high and mighty post on sports message boards not Tumblr. Don't answer your asks if you're going to be rude or even worse if you're going to be a hypocrite.

I wasn’t being a hypocrite. I am fully aware that I am a fan of these woman and I have never said I’m not.

There’s being invested in their private lives then making assumptions about past relationships. I simply don’t get involved in their relationships especially when the players make an effort to keep it private. I have seen what some people say especially about Alexia and Jenni then about Alexia and OR, that is none of my business.

To the anon that sent the ask, I by no means meant to be rude and I apologise if it came across that way.

One more thing, if you don’t like what I’m saying then you why follow me. This isn’t the first time I have spoken about this and I’m pretty sure it won’t be the last.

[qnewsau]

Farmer Dave Graham cut off all his hair, and it's 2006 vibes

New Post has been published on https://qnews.com.au/farmer-dave-graham-cut-off-all-his-hair-and-its-2006-vibes/

Farmer Dave Graham cut off all his hair, and it's 2006 vibes

Big Brother star Farmer Dave Graham has cut off his signature long locks for a good cause, and the results are giving 2006 flashback vibes.

The TV personality turned dog trainer first became a household name after coming out as gay on Big Brother Australia in 2006.

Since then, Farmer Dave has lived in country New South Wales and let his hair grow out… and out… and out…

This week, Dave got a haircut and donated his loooooong hair to a good cause: an initiative making wigs for children in cancer treatment, from the Kids with Cancer Foundation.

Farmer Dave got the haircut last week, and helping out was nine-year-old Zai from Campbelltown. Zai is battling stage 4, high-risk Neuroblastoma.

Following the haircut, Dave shared before and after photos of his new short cut and clean-shaven face. Looking good, Dave!

Farmer Dave Graham helps young people in RuffTrack dog program

These days, Farmer Dave Graham works as a dog trainer and youth worker in regional New South Wales.

He runs the RuffTrack dog training program, working with disenfranchised teenagers to turn their lives around.

Dave explained the program on Australian TV in 2022. He and the young people in RuffTrack – with their therapy dog Jimmy – competed on Australia’s Got Talent.

Dave explained the program works with at-risk youth in regional areas to “keep the kids alive, out of prison, and skilled up for a secure future”.

The young people partner with dogs and other animals to learn responsibility, communication and job skills.

“The kids come to us via police, the juvenile justice system, schools that just can’t keep them engaged,” Dave said on AGT.

“I run a pretty unique program that utilises dogs to transform kids. We do it one paw at a time.”

Dave reflects on Big Brother coming out moment

Almost two decades after his first Big Brother stint, Dave Graham is now the proud donor dad of four children. Dave returned to Big Brother earlier in 2022.

At the time, he said the Australian reality TV show is “completely responsible” for the life he has now.

“I couldn’t see any other way I could come out,” he said in 2022.

“[I grew] up gay in the bush within an extremely conservative and homophobic family and community.”

He said in 2006 he “had one goal: to show everyone that being gay meant I wasn’t there to hurt or harm anyone. We just want to live normal lives.”

“The acceptance of gay people [since then], both legally and socially, is profound,” he said.

Read more:

Farmer Dave and Tim Dormer went back into the closet on Big Brother

Dave Graham posts shirtless thirst trap for AGT judge David Walliams

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