#maybe ill draw someone(s)

[rocceater]

a sans and papyrus from a forever unfinished au where there is no player and nothing to drive a story 💔 everything looks like it was drawn on paper

[mercless]

i would like to know more about hn talon's feathery ailment ... is it their demonic nature clashing with the angelic blood that is resulting in their worsening condition ? is there a reason why it is specifically feathers / bird-likeness as opposed to anything else ( i.e. would other demons undergo similar transformations if they also got contaminated with angel blood ) ? can you share more about how you envision the progression and prognosis ? will it kill them or will there be some sort of final stage of their transformation ( whether that's a bad thing because it only gets worse and worse , or a good thing because maybe now that it is complete , they won't be in as much pain and discomfort 🥺 ) ? is it at all affected by whatever they're doing / thinking / feeling / experiencing ( tamagotchi talon ... ) ? what do they do to manage their condition ? does it make them self-conscious or feel badly about their physical appearance ?

"-But it looks like the angels ain't done with you."

I don't recommend that anyone ingests angel blood (good thing that's a difficult thing to do these days) but I wouldn't want to definitively say how it works for anyone else either. and I think it makes sense if talon isn't too sure either, with not meeting anyone else in a similar predicament as they (yet... will get to this later) but say if it were another angel Talon had attacked and drank the blood of, I believe they would still be having similar symptoms, as angels are quite feathery beings (varus with his arm of feathers, irelia with her wings and other choicely placed feathers.) But the particular angel they stole from has had a specific impact on just how the blood has changed them.

The reason for their worsening condition is because the blood has a powerful influence, like an undiluted acid. And it is so dramatic of an change because this influence is the polar opposite to their demonic existence. The more that Talon fights against the changes, the less symbiotic the blood and their demonic nature melds, the more violent and painful the experience is for them. And without any interference either with understanding or other experiences, I see it as a bitter, drawn-out struggle. Just wallowing in fatalism until Talon is nothing more than an unrecognisable pile of bile, blood, and feathers that tore itself apart...

Fortunately for them, the more Talon interacts with their rotting world and the people (and creatures) also struggling in it, the more they will come to terms with their own potential, and reflect on how they can be something more than what they once were. Learning that they don't have to let their worst action define their existence. More than just accepting what they did, and putting in the effort to understand emotions and how to be an active part of life, will mean they are not stubbornly fighting against their affliction. This will increase the speed of it's progression, but also be far less painful of an experience since they won't be actively fighting against it. When Talon is unable to call upon any of their demonic abilities anymore, the physical changes of the affliction will be complete, but they will continue to learn and better themself in an attempt to make up for all the wrong and pain they have caused in their existence. I can picture this happening in two or three decades time, in which there is no longer any hellfire, brimstone or summoned weapons. Talon is no longer a demon, but maybe by then they'll also know if the powers that be would accept a malformed, inexperienced, makeshift samaritan as a stand-in. But that's a hopeful thought, thinking they'll live that long.

Going back to the symptoms of the affliction. Previously, Talon's form was one of shadow and brimstone, and they were able to phase in and out of being corporeal at will. Over time, this ability has been weakened - only able to vanish as a shadow for a moment at a time. Brimstone skin was made brittle until it fell away to soft flesh, hollow bone, and hair. Feathers have begun sprouting through this softer skin too, mostly across their left shoulder, arm and chest, but are beginning to sprout along their throat too. Talon used to pull them out by hand, but has forfeited the fight. Back to the left arm, a sort of carapace has begun to form over their left hand, along the thumb's metacarpal and back of the hand in layers of grey ash and weathered gold. This and the growth of the feathers is very similar to Varus' - the angel in which Talon killed and drunk the blood of - own feathers and angelic arm. But without any of the matching powers, it is a far less grand sight.

Although still considerably hot to the touch, Talon's core temperature has drastically lowered compared to the past. Whatever organs of malice and bile a demon has have made way for a growth in their chest, helping pump the foul angelic blood and pesky emotions around their body routinely, and push out more of their demonic essence every day, little by little. With this, it has already made their demonic powers incredibly weakened. Previously Talon also used to be able to disintegrate bodies with a slice of their hellish blades, but they just do not run hot enough anymore. The final physical symptom are their eyes. Once filled with hellfire, it is far more likely nowadays to see their extinguished, golden-brown irises instead. It is slightly controllable with their emotional state, or when using their powers though.

In other ways, the blood has made Talon far more empathetic, given them a conscience. Troubled with how their actions will effect others now, the suffering and cruelty of the world has become a pain all it's own. Dulling the delight in spreading fear and even disturbing the once simple exchange of souls, Talon is often contemplating their next course of action instead of only giving thought to their best interests. And how their previous, often violent actions, have caused so much.

The agony and illness of coughing up feathers and demonic bile leaves talon haggard and frail. Getting sleep and relaxation would help the most, but with their paranoia it is difficult for them to find places to fully lower their guard and properly rest. Talon's tried to get a room in the crossroad saloon before, but it's... never really worked out (Gragas doesn't let them). Hating and damning the ailment only makes it worse, since it's basically like trying to separate themself from something that has already been mixed in. Feathers get stuck in their many teeth, skin itches from keratin growing in. Fatigue and sensitivity to their own heartbeat. Talon tries their best to hide the majority of their symptoms. Their coughs and exhaustion are the most obvious.

For how the changed made by the affliction is making talon feel... I'm going to paraphrase from a previous message;

I say its dysmorphic but the more I think about it, it's also… having your health decline and your body changing along with it, at least with talons perspective right now since they're losing their demonic powers. dysphoric in the way that they're still holding on to the thought that this isn't what they're supposed to be, they're Supposed to be a being of shadow and hellfire not flesh and bone, let alone feathers and sympathy. so I want it to be much more about accepting that this is their body now moreso than finding a way to reverse the changes. That it's okay to change with age and wisdom as you open yourself up more to the world.

At this time, Talon misses being completely monstrous, of being frightening and having that implicit respect. They feel weaker than they really are because they continue to compare themself to the long-gone height of their power, and because their new physical changes make them feel vulnerable. Being constantly exhausted also doesn't help with any of this. Beyond this though, the only other thing they don't like about these changes is just that; it's different. The uncanny features still don't feel like that that's who they are, and there is this disconnect when others react to them, or comment on their looks.

poses I don't know, maybe Talon just needs some sort of big motivation to no longer see this affliction as a curse, but as an opportunity to be more than a demon that skulks in the shadows. And some encouragement that yes, that is in fact a good thing. Maybe like an ultimatum of some sorts.

[triglycercule]

swapinverse posting rn,,,,, (WAKE UP UNTITLED29876011111 MY LISTENER I KNOW YOU GET NO SLEEP BUT SWAPINVERSE CRUMBS SWAPINVERSE CRUMBS PSPSPSPSPPSPSPS)

anyways currently reworking savior and godDAMN is he soooo,,,,,,, my boy i love my boy. why does he literally combine the melancholic vibe of dust and then whatever the hell killer's got going on in his lore. hes literally so sad and emo and depressed but also has a perfect amount of i-dont-care-ness and built in commands,,,,,, hes so PERFECT my vision of this modernized savior is soooo amazing,,,,, none of you will be ready trust (hyping myself up over nothing)

i think its because i'm finally starting to THINK about my character's,,,,,,, characters?????? like before they were just concepts. i think. like just IDEAS and now especially for savior i'm starting to actually analyze his character and see where things go from there,,,, its sooooo fun i love this sosososos much,,,, now let's see if this streak of analysis will carry on for the 2 i still need to finish finish (crash and vice.SER my glitchy fuckass sons)

google what is the symbolic representation for ribbons and ribbon dancing and silk acrobatics. google ANSWER ME

[mochasucculent]

Kinda weird but this is still like one of my fave things I've ever drawn lol, it's just a background study from Shawn James' cover of Arkansas by Damien Jurado (there was a character here too once iykyk lol) but I was Going Through It at the time and painting this was soooo cathartic

[todayisafridaynight]

everyday i constantly think of masato's wheelchair and if that's his only one/main one no wonder he's so pissed at everyone

[ashemellow]

im playing yttd but almost everyone i liked is dead @_@ alice... whyyy (at least in my playthrough he's still alive but WTF was that?!)

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[crest-of-gautier]

oreo and max :D

[katsukistofu]

PLEASE (if you feel like it) WRITE FOR AIZAWA! A SICK READER TROPE MAYBE?

Btw ur fics are so good and are part of the reason why I’ve gotten back into mha <333 I love ur writing style sm and ur hawks fics??? That was amazing

hi my love! thank you so much omg that’s so sweet, i’m happy i helped you rekindle your love for mha again lol! <3

sick (but never of you)

contents ౨ৎ ⋆ s. aizawa x fem reader. fluff. cursing. 997 words ★ your husband insists on taking care of you when you fall ill, despite your protests.

Not this shit again. 

You groan as your eyes flutter open for the second time after you said you were fine, then proceeded to dramatically faint in Shota’s arms in the middle of your patrol and sit up, hurriedly tossing the pile of soft blankets off your body.

You shiver despite the warmth radiating from the heater nearby. Shota must have brought it out for you after getting you home.

“What do you think you’re doing?” 

The disapproving voice of your husband floats over, and there he is, leaning on the doorway with a steaming bowl of something in his hands. You perk up despite yourself. Miso soup? 

“I don’t have time to sleep off a little cold, Shota!” Your arms tremble as you try to force yourself off of the plush king-sized bed. “It’s already past nine, I have to head to the agency.”

“Don’t care, didn’t ask.” Shota wraps his arms around you to trap you in place, ignoring your insistent budging. “You’re staying home today with the cat.”

“But—But they need me…” You weakly mumble in his firm grip. It was no use trying to break free, and you’re not sure if you even want to anymore with how nice he feels against you.

“And I need you here.” His stern gaze doesn’t waver, and his hand guides your head from the back of your hair, which you’re certain looks like a disaster zone right now, to rest on his chest. “It’s my job to make sure you’re safe, happy and healthy.”

Shota brushes a hair from your face and tucks it behind your ear. The little beads of sweat on your skin don’t bother him in the slightest.

“So let me do my job.”

“Are you using your teacher voice on me?” You grumble into the dark fabric of his sleeveless shirt. He smells warm and like all things good, as if he just came out of the shower. 

“I vaguely recall someone commenting that it was ‘hot.” Shota’s gravelly voice teases your ear and his stubble tickles your cheek as he smirks, knowing he’s won the battle when he finally feels you melt in defeat against him. 

He brushes a soft kiss to your forehead. “Stay in bed, sweetheart, I’ll be right back.”

“Okay.” You say in a tiny voice, weakly slumping back into the sheets. 

Shota comes back with a spoon and a folded piece of paper. A hint of a smile tugs at his lips as he holds it out to you.

“Looks like I’m not the only one that wants you to stay home.”

Your eyes widen as you look at the get-well card in your hands.

feel beter soon!! lots of loove, eri it said, with millions of tiny hearts doodled around your name. You choke back a sob as your eyes fall onto the little stick figure drawings of you pushing the little gray-haired girl on a swing set. 

It looked just like the one from the playground nearby that you would often take her to on your days off.

us when youre not sick anymor! :D

“Shota, give me that damn soup.”

He chuckles deeply and scoots closer on the bed to feed you. You squeeze your eyes shut as a sharp throb suddenly pierces through your head.

“The room’s spinning again, that’s not normal is it?”

“No. No, it’s not.” Shota’s forehead creases in concern, bringing the spoon of warm soupy goodness up to your lips while his other hand holds yours.

You part your lips to drink it, letting the rich, comforting flavor of miso spread across your tongue.

Letting out a little sigh of relief, you’re about to lean back before Shota sets the bowl down on the nightstand to prop up the pillows behind you, making sure you’re comfortable before he picks it back up again and holds up another spoonful to your mouth.

“Come on, one more for me sweetheart.” 

“Not hungry anymore,” you huff, turning your head away from his outstretched hand.

He lifts an eyebrow. 

“We can cuddle after you take your medicine.”

“...Can you rub my tummy too?”

“You know I will.”

You sniffle and reluctantly open your mouth to sip a spoonful of the soup once again.

“Atta girl.” Shota smooths a kiss on your forehead, rubbing circles against the back of your hand. 

He reaches over to the nightstand to grab your medicine he picked up from the local pharmacy earlier, and hands a small cup of what he pours to you. 

You grimace at its cherry-colored contents and tilt your head back to drink it in one go like a shot.

“Good job. Now come lay on me.” He didn’t need to ask you twice, but Shota’s hands are already on your waist to gently flip you over him as he takes your previous position on the bed, setting you down to rest your head on your usual spot on his chest.

He strokes your hair gently, arm snug against your back while he presses you to him. “How are you feeling?”

“A little bit better,” you mumble, absentmindedly tracing the outline of his abs under his shirt. It's always been soothing to you.

Shota’s chest rumbles as he lets out a husky laugh. “Are you just saying that so you can keep tracing my abs?”

“Maybe.” You giggle against him, which turns into a cough and he firmly pats your back. His hand slides under your pajamas to rub gentle circles on your tummy like he promised. You softly squeal at the ticklish feeling of his hard-earned callouses against your skin, and Shota tenderly kisses your cheek once, twice.

All your senses are numb, but you can still feel the overflowing love behind them.

“Go to sleep, sweet girl. I got you,” he murmurs into your hair.

“Okay.” You comply easily this time, nuzzling deeper into his chest. “Goodnight, Shota.”

“Goodnight, angel. Love you.”

“Love you too,” you mumble before drifting off to sleep in the safety of his warm arms.

Maybe being sick wasn’t all bad.

[starzgaze]

LOVESICK POTENTIAL: sung jinwoo

pairing: yandere!sjw/reader

UNFINISHED incoherent drabble brainrot on yandere!sjw hahaha... this is so unfinished but it fried my brain so badly all i can do is draw this out later because i cant write for long periods of time 😒 also english isn't my first language so this is really ERRR not good also no proofreading we die raw

tw: froth and nothing much

BEFORE THE DUNGEON EVENT:

This era of jinwoo was so cute he looked so squishy I'm biting my bedsheets. This time is the perfect moment where jinwoo gets his reasons on why he's a little cuckoo over [y.name].

Jinwoo always came home covered in bruises and maybe with a dent in his mental health. I mean not only you face life threatening monsters but you also face the words of your fellow hunters that consists of demeaning and degrading your whole existence does horriblewonders to Jinwoo's mental health! After when his mother came out of the picture by falling ill to the Eternal Slumber, Jinwoo had to face the expectations on becoming the breadwinner and help to keep his family a float.

Jinwoo doesn't have ambitions or anything during this time, not when he's too focused on trying to feed Jinah and pay the bills. He's a blank pitiful slate who's being driven by desperation and the promise he made to his mother to take care of his sister. He doesn't have anyone to turn to and he can't tell what he's experiencing to his sister because that'll make her worry for him! Jinwoo doesn't want his sister to flunk her studies because he made her worry for him... so he's basically alone.

Until you come in to the picture. [y.name] one of the few people who saw him as a person instead of some weak pitiful excuse of a hunter. It doesn't really matter how you meet Jinwoo, whether it be through connections, after a dungeon raid, or you randomly meeting him on the street, what matters is how you perceive him as a person and how you turn his miserable world upside down.

When [y.name] entered his life, it felt like a ball of light entered his dim world but not as if [y.name] was extremely energetic or what not. It was more like that [y.name] ignited something within Jinwoo. [y.name] would stop by and talk to Jinwoo, solidifying his self as a person. They would talk about ideals and goals and even encourage Jinwoo to maybe create his own when they found out that he didn't had any of his own. Jinwoo felt so warm inside whenever he'd spent time with [y.name]. He felt so inexplicably happy.

Jinwoo decided that [y.name] is his goal and the driving force of his ambitions.

Jinwoo limped a bit as he walked towards his small apartment he shared with his sister. It was what remained when his mother was sent to the hospital for falling ill. He groaned silently as he clenched his arm that was throbbing in pain. Even after being recently healed by Joohee, he could still feel the pain of his arm being battered to smithereens.

He wondered how many dungeon raids left till he'll perish by the hands of some low ranking monster.

The young man approached his door before suddenly being called out by a familiar voice. Jinwoo turned around and his bleak mood was changed into a more joyful one.

"Jinwoo! I caught 'ya this time!" [y.name] giggled as they skipped over to Jinwoo, a small mischievous smile plastered on their features. Jinwoo chuckled at [y.name]'s words as he admired [y.name]. He wondered what did he do in his life to meet [y.name]

Jinwoo hoped that the next dungeon raid isn't the one where he'll perish by the hands of a monster.

AFTER THE DUNGEON EVENT:

Jinwoo would probably avoid contacting [y.name]. After realizing he has a new opportunity to get stronger. His mental health before wasn't the best, he often thought he was pulling [y.name] back and has this mindset that he didn't deserve any of the kindness he was receiving from anyone especially from [y.name]

But now? he has now the chance to pay them all back by becoming stronger and become someone they can all rely on. So randomly... he'll just disappear from [y.name]'s life randomly. Jinwoo feels horrible but he isn't ready to face [y.name] again but he promises to himself that he'll meet his darling[y.name] soon.

Jinwoo would admire [y.name] from afar and sometimes do this just for the sake of answering to his personal question of: "I wonder how are they doing now?". Jinwoo is aware how much it hurts to [y.name] that he randomly disappeared from their life without a word especially how worried they were for him.

When Jinwoo finally deems he's prepared and worthy enough to face [y.name] he almost forgotten how different he looked when he last met [y.name]. Jinwoo almost scared [y.name] away when a devilishly handsome tall young man approached them with a bouquet of flowers in hand. Thankfully, [y.name] recognized the man from the slightly meek demeanor he showed.

Maybe after a few more meetups and catch ups, [y.name] would notice the many changes on Jinwoo's overall.. being? like aside from the fact he's now built like a sculpture made by the gods, he's more confident and charming?.. Jinwoo of course didn't miss the way how [y.name] would quiet down and stare at Jinwoo, taking note every little different detail on Jinwoo. This fed the hunter's ego and was proud how his hardwork paid off.

While [y.name] was admiring Jinwoo, they didn't notice how Jinwoo added a few of his shadows into [y.name]'s shadow. His love for [y.name] during their absence has doubled a thousand fold and the lengths he'd go for [y.name] is now boundless. Jinwoo's goal of achieving [y.name] might not be impossible anymore if he pushed himself a bit more just like what [y.name] says.

After meeting up with Jinwoo, [y.name] bid the hunter goodbye as they exited the cafe. [y.name] was pleasantly joyful that Jinwoo didn't forgotten about them and met up with them again after a few years but this still didn't made [y.name] pissed off over the fact he basically ghosted them for a few years too!

[y.name] walked down the cold street that was dimly lit up by the lamp posts around the area. They shivered a bit as they tried to warm up their hands by shoving one of them in their trenchcoat's pocket. [y.name] was on their phone when they suddenly bumped into a man by accident.

"ow.. oh? I'm sorry I didn't notice you there I'm really sorr—" [y.name] stammered out as they bowed their head in apology but then they felt a hand pushing them hard enough to be stumble back into a lamp pole, hitting their back pretty hard. The man reached out to [y.name]'s trenchcoat's pocket and pulling out their purse then he ran away with their purse in hand.

"agh! what the- my purse?!" [y.name] yelled as they rubbed their back to ease the throbbing pain as they tried to run after the robber.

Unfortunately for [y.name] he was fast on his feet and after for a while they lost him. [y.name] panted as they decided to not give up yet and looked around the now lightless and eerie street, it seems like the robber ran into a more abandoned side of the city.

[y.name] roamed around the street and would peak occasionally inside of alleyways hoping to catch the man but much to their dismay, they haven't seen any glimpses or hints. They mindlessly walked around, slowly losing hope until they heard a quick shriek then a hard thump from a nearby alleyway. A cold sweat went down their neck as they froze in place... Did something happen?

[y.name]'s eyes narrowed down on the alleyway where they assumed the sound originated from. They contemplated for a bit whether they should check it out before they decided to see what it was, clinging on the possibility it might be their purse. [y.name] slowly peeked their head in the alleyway and immediately gasped at the sight.

The man who stole their purse on floor, wriggling in pain before a dark figure. Froth was coming out of his mouth as dark inky shadows circled around his throat. His ankles looked twisted but in a very unnatural degree that it looked grotesque.[y.name]'s eyes shakily looked at the soon to be a corpse then up to the figure who was holding their purse. They blinked blankly at the figure.. [y.name] recognized him?!

"Jin..woo?..." [y.name] murmured underneath their breath as the figure looked up to see [y.name] who was pretty shaken up. The light finally hits the figure's and it revealed it was indeed Jinwoo... but he had this soulless glint in his eyes that suddenly brighten up at the sight of [y.name]

"ah. [y.name]" He called out as he walked past the struggling man and approached [y.name] who took a step back away from Jinwoo. This made his heart wrench.

"don't. don't move away. it's dangerous at this time, you shouldn't be alone" Jinwoo continued as he was finally in front of a terrified [y.name]

"you shouldve accepted my offer walking you home"

[snazzynacho]

— Bloodthirsty Demon

Part 1/?

Emperor Geta x wife!Reader

Words: 3K. Read on ao3. Masterlist.

Fandom: Gladiator II (2024)

Summary: You and your husband Geta get worked up over a bloody gladiatorial fight. Geta is engrossed by your bloodthirstyness. (Oh, and Caracalla’s there too, being cute hehe.) (pre-gladiator II I guess.)

Warning(s): Violence, Blood, Gladiatorial fight, pet names used, Y/N used only twice, mention of intercourse, very horny flirty, no smut sorry (maybe in a second part if I write it.). 🔞

A/N: please someone take my cellular device away from me. (actually please don't. i’ll explode.)

The view of the Colosseum is always magnificent, especially from your Emperor(s) and Empress's booth which has a perfect view for your majesties.

Your husband, Geta, is sitting on your right with his brother to his right—all three of you are glued to the arena below. The gladiatorial fights are always something you all enjoy.

It is a moment of pure release and energy—the blood and gore, the incessant roars and screams of the crowd—is invigorating.

Geta usually picks a fighter to root over, only to drop him when he senses him losing. This time, there seems to be no one bother rooting for. He orders more wine, holding his goblet up in the air, to which a servant promptly refills with red wine. Caracalla leans over to murmur something into Geta’s ear which causes the man to giggle like a drunken schoolboy into his goblet.

You glance over, seeing them giggle, which amuses you much to you trying to hide the evidence. Seeing their brotherhood, untainted by Caracalla’s illness or imperial duties, is a heartwarming sight to see.

Geta glances over, seeing you smirk into your goblet. An eyebrow quirks and the emperor gives you a side eye look. "And what are you smirking at?" He asks, slurring his words ever so slightly. He has already downed several cups of wine, after all.

“Just enjoying the view of my amused husband,” you coo, your voice low and sultry, leaning near him ever so closely.

This response makes him laugh, in his usual hyena like manner. “Enjoying the view of me, are you?" He slurs slightly before gesturing towards the should-be bloody spectacle below. "But my dear, I did not realise you had a taste for bloodshed.” he leans closer as well, “Unless you are getting off on a different kind of view…" he jokes, giving you a sinful look.

“You know I cannot resist either,” you glance away from him back to the fight, checking in, but you already know not much has happened as Caracalla has stayed pretty quiet, which is unlike him.

Geta chuckles at your response and leans back in his throne. He motions with his hand for a servant to top up his wine once more, before fixing you with an amused smirk again. "Now I'm not sure what to think. Maybe I should be concerned when my blushing bride says she loves bloodshed.” He snickers to himself then takes a long gulp, the strong wine coursing down his throat.

You hum. “Yes, maybe you should,”

You eye the abysmal fighting in the arena below. A scowl forms on your face. Whats taking them so long? Why is the fight so boring!? You need another drink. Maybe that will liven it up and trick you into thinking it is fun. You hold your goblet up in the air and a servant refills it with red wine and down it.

Geta’s gaze returns to the colosseum, his reaction is the same as yours. His nose slightly crinkles with disgust as one gladiator misses another. “Gods, this is a boring fight...they're useless.” he voices your thoughts.

"Come here," Geta demands, his attention wearing at the boring fight, crooking a finger towards you, beckoning you to draw closer to him. As you do, he slides a hand around your waist like a snake pulling in its prey and pulls you into his lap, resting possessively on your thigh. “Maybe you're secretly a bloodthirsty devil like me. I wouldn’t be surprised." He smirks and glances at the fighting below, his eyes following with intensity. Every punch thrown, every splash of blood, every cry of pain. The Emperor's dark brown eyes reflected a strange excitement as he watched, his other arm draped over the back of chair. But it’s not enough. He needs more. All three of you do.

“Of course, I am. It was the first thing we bonded over,” you reply casually, quirking an eyebrow and smirking at him.

“Mmm, yes. I do recall that now. You were so shy, and when I asked you if you like fighting and bloodshed, you were like an excitable little demon." Geta chuckles and sips his wine, his arm squeezing you a bit tighter as he does so.

You cackle at your resemblance between yourself and a ‘excitable little demon’, as your husband describes, so hard that you have to explain to Caracalla what you are laughing about which sends the three of you into drunken hysterics.

Geta's grip on your waist tightens, as he laughs alongside you and Caracalla. His wine threatens to spill from his cup from laughing so hard, as do all your goblets, his chest heaving as he cackles like a hyena.

You then hear Caracalla squark laughter when he finally notices you are sat on his brother’s lap. “Have you become so bored you are going to fuck?!” he wheezes out more laughter.

Geta's grip on you loosens as he laughs with his brother, both men’s laughs turn into cackling like madmen. Caracalla is drunk. Extremely drunk, and the alcohol slurs his words as he expresses, “I'd forgotten about that, brother. She made quite an impression on you that night, didn't she!"

“Oh, shush, Cara,” you say playfully, leaning over to smile at him. Caracalla giggles, giving you a crooked grin in return.

Geta laughs all the more as his brother reminds him of your first meeting. He remembers it like it was yesterday, how you revealed your true devilish side to him on that night, and he was enraptured. “ah, yes. An impression I will never forget.”

The gladiator below makes yet another mistake and trips over his own feet. “Gods, this has to be the worst fight of the century. At this rate, the winner will be whoever gets lucky first. If any of this is even considered fighting..." Geta sniggers, and Caracalla giggles in agreement.

At that, you down the last of your wine, and cry, “GET ON WITH IT!” into the arena below. You do not know exactly who you're saying it about or to but, like Geta says, it’ll be whoever gets lucky.

They laugh and howl like insane men at your sudden bloodthirsty reaction and Geta downs his drink too, before shouting out at the gladiators. “HEAR THAT? YOUR EMPRESS WANTS A BLOODY FIGHT, GIVE HER ONE!”Geta's bellowing demand rings out around the Colosseum, and for a moment there's an eerie quiet that follows.

The gladiators below glance around for any sign of you, the Empress, and even their opponents stop and glance up at the viewing box. Then, a collective roar from the audience sounds, as they pick up on both your words, shouting and cheering in consensus. Your Emperor snickers and nudges you with a grin that's all teeth with his wild eyes. "Look at them scramble around. You'd think you're a goddess descended from the heavens."

Geta holds you firmly in his lap and he leans in to whisper in your ear, his hot breath against your skin, while his hand travels down to your thigh. “I have to say, you shouting like that was unexpected, my dear. But extremely arousing all the same," Your husband’s whispered admission is punctuated by a low growl, and his grip tightens on your thigh, giving you a kiss on your neck. It hits the sensitive vein perfectly and you bite your lip, squirming delightfully in pleasure. He pulls you closer, his chest pressing flush against your back, as he eyes the arena.

The gladiators now fight with more fervor, clearly trying to please you—their empress. It's a brutal and bloody brawl, just as you have ordered. One of the gladiators particularly obliges, brandishing a sword in vigour and roars for the crowd making Caraclla clap in giddiness.

Geta leans down and murmurs into your ear, his breath warm against your skin, the same sensitive spot he just pecked, sending shivers down your spine. “He's putting on quite the performance, my dear, perhaps we should reward him for it." He smirks, his hands caress your thigh with a possessive squeeze. Geta’s attention drifts back to the arena, watching the fight below with rapt interest, hearing Caracalla continue to joyfully react to an intense squall between two gladiators.

“I don’t know what fight you have been watching but he’s done the bare minimum so far.”

Geta scoffs at your comment. "I could say the same about all of them, they're all lacking." However, he then smirks again. He has always loved how you challenge him. "Ah, but maybe I'm a little biased. I'm watching a much more entertaining performance in my lap after all."

“Aw, you sweet thing,” you twist your neck to look at him, holding his chin with affection and a tad of harshness, all the while you hold your goblet up in your other hand for another refill.

Geta grins. His eyes drink you in like a parched man. His grip on your thigh tightens once more, as he leans his face in even closer. He murmurs against you skin, his words a low timber against your ear. “You call me sweet, yet you are the only person I would allow to handle me with any sort of harshness, and still find it attractive."

You end up in a fit of giggles at his words. The combination of his sweet words and wine make you feel light headed. Your giggling quickly changes into a squeal though, as the fight becomes rather exciting. In the blink of an eye, a gladiator has punctured another so hard in the most perfect vein that blood sprayed up, as another got killed by a tiger. It excites the baying crowd, who eagerly roars for more. Bloodthirsty hyenas they are, likewise with you and the Emperors.

With Caracalla maniacally laughing again, banging his hands excitedly against the armrests, your hungry gazes eat up the gruesome entertainment.

Geta's grip on you tightens further. His hand slides up along your thigh to rest at your hip. He pulls you closer into his lap, the excitement in the air palpable. He chuckles heartily at your reaction, your squeal. His fingers dig into your hip slightly as he hears your squeal, the gladiator below has just been killed by a tiger. How dramatic.

His attention is on the fight once more, his eyes glue to the sight of blood and violence with a voracious stare. In the arena below, another gladiator meets a brutal death, and the crowd roars once more. Geta is all too entertained, and he tightens his grip on your thigh again. “Excellent! I was beginning to fall asleep! Caracalla, did you see that?! Did you see that, Y/N? One death by tiger, and then another pierced through. You made the right call." His hands momentarily become free, leaving your thigh and handing his goblet to a nearby servant, to clap, before returning back to your flesh and downing another gulp of wine. His breath is hot against the shell of your ear and it's clear the bloodbath below is having quite the effect on him too. “Perhaps you should order them to fight to the death more often,” Your emperor purrs into your ear. “You're always so entertaining when you're bloodthirsty."

“I know. You should listen to me more,”

Geta's hand on your leg tightens again, as he leans forward, his chin resting on your shoulder as he watches the action enthralled. “Gods, you're such an arrogant thing." The emperor laughs in response to your reply, he's thoroughly mesmerised by your words and he knows you're right. “I should listen to you more, my sweet. You have excellent taste after all,” he commends, more so referring to himself which makes you shake your head in amusement.

The fight has reached its climax leaving two gladiators left and the crowd is going tumultuous. The gore is his favourite thing. You can feel the adrenaline in him as he shifts in his seat with a thrill. Geta's lips then skim along your throat, leaving a trail of small kisses as he watches the massacre below continue.

Geta watches his brother Caracalla, who is now completely and utterly wasted, bellowing with laughter hysterically. Turning his attention to you, Geta gives a sly smile on his face. "Gods, look at him. He's completely gone. Too much wine and too much blood. I hope he keeps it down and not throw it all back up again."

“You can never have too much, husband.” you say, a cheeky arid look in your eyes.

A low chuckle rumbles its way out of his chest, his teeth grazing the crook of your neck, nibbling at the soft skin there. “My sweet devilish wife,“ he can't resist giving your thigh a quick smack. “But I do prefer to have you all to myself when I’m intoxicated. And I think I’d rather not be covered in his vomit a second time this week.” he raises his goblet to the servant standing patiently nearby and motions for a refill. The servant, as always, quickly obliges, and refills his drink. The red liquid sloshes as the cup is handed back into Geta’s shaky hand. Geta takes a long, slow drink, closing his eyes and savouring the taste.

He lowers the cup, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, before speaking. “I wouldn’t mind having you all to myself right now, in fact. But I’m not sure what the Senate will think of that,” he huffs, as his hand has somehow found its way under your stola.

You feel a tickle on your bare thigh, and the rings adorning his fingers are cold differing against your flushed body. “Geta!” you gasp at his sudden touch under your clothing. “You must be extremely intoxicated!” you burst out laughing, tapping the tip of his nose with your finger as if you are not in the same drunken condition as him.

He scrunches his face at your touch. As punishment he drags his hand further up, tracing your inner thigh. You slam your hand on his hand under your stola to stop him from moving any further. “Not in public!” you squeal, but neither of you can deny the effect he has on you. He’s become very good at reading you over the years.

Geta laughs devilishly, amused by your feeble attempt to stop his wandering hand. His eyes flash with intense desire. He does not reply at first, merely drinking you in like you’re his goblet of wine.

“Public, private. I don’t care. I want you, now. I don’t care if the whole Senate watches. I doubt they’d be surprised. We're not exactly the most discrete when it comes to…our affections." His breath is hot on your neck, his lips finding their way to the sensitive spot that had him nibbling at before. Only this time he can’t resist but to clamp his mouth down, giving you a hickey.

When he pulls back, he grins at the sight of the red mark blossoming on your skin. He smirks at you, a naughty twinkle in his dark brown eyes. “Besides, I think they'd be more worried about what they're seeing down below." He nods his head down at the arena. The final two gladiators are still going at it.

A loud whoop from Caracalla and the enigmatic loudness of the crowd breaks the spell he has on you (or one you have put on him), tearing your gaze away from each other. One gladiator has the other pinned to the ground now. It’s nearing the end.

“So am I. Now hush,” You place your finger against his lips, turning your attention to the action below. As you do, you feel a pair of teeth graze your finger, biting down just a little.

Gasping, you flick your eyes back at Geta. “You wild animal,”

Geta is about to reply to your counteraction, an equally naughty one, to your comment, until he is interrupted.

“The gods must speak!” Caracalla, who is now on his feet, hollers, pointing at the action below. His signalling for Geta to give his opinion on whether or not the gladiator shall kill his fellow opponent or not works as Geta hands his goblet for a servant to take, gives you a sympathetic look and gently guides you off his lap. His hand still clutches your waist possessively.

You already know what answer he is going to choose. You've got him too worked up not to.

He raises his arm out with his thumb in a neutral position. He's thinking. He closes his eyes, all drama and theatrics, while he searches for the god’s answer on this duel and whether two men will walk free or only one.

After a moment of suspense, you grasp the hand of his that is on your waist, while the other traces the pattern of his toga you have memorised. This seems to snap him out of his mind, his eyes popping open with the most wickedest look ever. He slowly sneers, as his wrist rotates downward, his thumb pointing down to the ground.

Everyone roars and chants hysterically in anticipation, eagerly awaiting the demise ahead. The loser on the ground keeps his head low, already accepting his death. The winning Gladiator holds his sword in the air.

The three of you majesties lean over the bannister in awe, wanting to capture the very last moments of this gladiator’s life and his morbidly fascinating gruesome end.

The sword gleams in the harsh sunlight, as it suspends down, cutting the loser’s neck, slicing his head clean off. You scream, but not in terror. You’re giddy, and jump up and down, clapping your hands, just as Caracalla is with you. Geta stays put in the middle of you two. His grin is venomous and mixed dangerously with lust. He gazes out to the audience, his people, Rome’s children. They're just as worked up as he is inside, as you and Cara are outwardly. In these moments, he’s filled with warmth that he has put on a great spectacle for all to see, to root for, to celebrate.

Now, it’s his turn to celebrate you, his wife, the empress…his bloodthirsty demon.

(YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE, TO STEAL OR TO REPOST ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS.)

A/N: There may be part 2…we’ll see 👀

Reblogs and comments are appreciated <3

[nemesis-writer]

Five Minutes (Chapter 3)

Masterlist Let the Games Begin TW: mentions of blood, mental illness

The Waynes were waiting in agony for their first game. They were prepared to battle it together. But what they didn't know is that they each of them have to go through it alone.

In the Base...

I'm only known as Eurus in the underground world but my name shall always be (Y/N). I have built myself up all the way just to taste the blood in my hands. I was never gonna be the next Robin nor Batman, so why not create a name for my own.

I was able to send the letter for the first test for them, and have it sent anonymously. Now, I need to sleep as well.

I maybe a concierge of crime, but I also need to be with my baby.

At the Waynes'...

Everyone had to keep their eyes peeled and remain unflinching. Whenever there is a delivery or a package, there is always an inspection with x-rays in order to make sure that it's harmless.

They had to take extra precautions in order to prevent the exploitation of their identities, along with the ramifications of their 'stainless' reputation.

Until it was finally there...

The first game.

It had 'DAMIAN.' Written in capital letters, and in the notorious green color designed. Thanks Riddler.

The letter...

There's a child's life on the line Little Demon. If you try to pull anything, so here's a little riddle.

Here's a riddle based on Squid Game, Saw, and a basement:

'In shadows deep, where fear does grow, A game begins, you do not know. With each step forward, the danger nears, The stakes are high, and so are fears.

Twisted minds, with plans so sly, Trapped in a place where you can't ask why. A room cold, with echoes loud, Walls closing in, no escape allowed.

Through chains and locks, you struggle, fight, But only the brave can see the light. The clock is ticking, time is tight, Where are you now? What’s out of sight?'

"Bruce, what does this mean?", Damian wonders.

"Walls closing in? Trapped in a- Oh shit." Bruce cursed. It was an unusual sight for Bruce to curse since he was usually informed how barbaric it was by Alfred.

"It's a basement of an abandoned factory." Bruce stated.

"A bit more specific since there's like a hundred of them especially in Gotham." Jason says.

"Alright so I need everyone to split up and go through every abandoned factory and if anyone sees any sign of life or a clue then speak in the comms." Bruce commanded.

They all spread out one by one looking for the kid or at least a clue. Factory to factory, street to street, they searched high and low and even the most minute details weren't left out.

Until they finally found it.

The first clue.

"Guys I found the first clue, I'm in Bludhaven Street."yelled Dick.

Everyone rushed and reached the basement. It also showed an old, probably made in the 1900's, telephone. They were too eager to even notice the hidden security cameras.

Damian eagerly opened it and read:

'In a room so small, the walls feel tight, A game is set, but not of delight. No choice, no chance to run away, You must stay sharp and make your play.

The door is locked, the air is cold, Silent whispers of the truth untold. A puzzle waits, a test of mind, With every step, danger you’ll find.

Ticking sounds, a faint warning near, What’s hidden here is crystal clear. Almost there, the end in sight— But tread carefully, or face the night.'

'Room, ticking, no chance, locked door.' Bruce tries to think of it.

"A bomb in an apartment." Jason figured out and yelled. All the the sudden the phone starts to ring.

"Someone answer the phone," Cassandra yelled.

"You answer the fucking phone," Damian replied.

"This is your test Demon Spawn there is a kid on the line and more people with the kid." Jason retorts.

Damian reluctantly answered the phone and heard:

'Congratulations for the first game, Where blood will spill and none’s to blame. A twisted start, a sinister plot, A place where hope is soon forgot.

The faces cold, their eyes wide with fear, For every step, a fate draws near. No room for mercy, no chance to flee, In this cruel game, there’s no decree.

As the doors close, the lights grow dim, The air grows thick with a haunting hymn. A moment's silence, a final breath, The line between life and certain death.

Congratulations for the first game, But it’s too late now to place the blame. Tick-tock, tick-tock, it’s time to spin, Let the games begin.'

Taglist

@lunayaps, @not-aya, @iluvcatzz, @vanessa-boo, @ivyrose9194,@thesehandsarerated-e, @eyeless-kun, @errorunfound1, @gwyneveire, @alishii, @cxcillia

[ara-the-great]

cruelty

(not edited or proof read)

Cruelty was a part of every human being. Sylus knew this the best. Whoever met him deemed him the cruelest of all, except you. except this tiny little woman of his. he knew that you knew what he had done and will continue to do as the leader of onychhinus and yet he sensed no fear, no deeming him as cruel- except a in the instances when he stole your ice-cream or withheld from kissing you . it didnt make sense to him. the only conclusion he could draw was you were the same as him. true kindred spirits. after all he noticed that you did not even blink at him leveling out buildings with people still in it. how you barely even looked away when he shoots someone dead. how for a moment there is a gleam of insanity in those mesmerizing eyes of yours. he wanted to bring it up, he wanted to see all of you so he stared taking you to more and more meetings and deals. waiting, craving to see that gleam in you.

he had thought his cruelty would repeal you, you lived a righteous life after all. you were a upstanding citizen, you didn't even have a speeding ticket. and yet he recognized that ember of insanity and cruelty in you. how? who? why? when?

"sylus, what are you thinking about with such a face?" you asked approaching him

"what ever do you mean?" he smiled trying his best to conceal his thoughts. he was sure you tell him or even better show him someday.

"you look like you are going to kill someone. if you keep furrowing your eyebrows like that you'll get permanent wrinkles and then everyone will be more scared of you" you teased as your fingers smoothed out his so called wrinkles.

"what can i do? I am scary my love. it comes with the job" he chuckled as he took your hands to press a kiss on your palms.

"really? you scary? i don't see it. i think you are absolutely beautiful " you said kissing the top of one of his eyes as you sat in his lap.

"don't go tonight. stay. stay with me. i promise ill make it worth your time" he husked as he nuzzled into your shoulder. his muscular arms wrapping around you. you were sylus's anchor, his peace, his light.

"you know i have work tomorrow sylus. i cant stay here"

"hmm then maybe i should go to linkon with you" he mused

"you know, you can't do that. plus don't you have a dealing tomorrow?" you laughed patting is back as consolation.

"maybe i should change my occupation. to hell with all this. I'll sell fruit in linkon and go by skye and maybe then i would not have to part with you" he kissed the pulse that seemed to quickened with his words almost drunk off of your scent. "would you like that?" seeming absolutely serious.

"S-sylus you know you cant "

"would you like that though? just imagine you'll have me beside you every morning and every night." he said dragging his mouth from neck to the corner of your mouth.

"i wouldnt be so cruel to make you give up all that you have built with you own hands"

"oh sweetie, be as cruel as you like, you know i like it when you are cruel . if you asked me to build an empire from nothing, id do it for you a thousand times over. use me but just stay by me. that's all." he placed a soft kiss on your forehead. he could practically feel how pleased the thought made you. "plus cruelty suits you more than you think"

"what is that supposed to mean?" you didnt know whether to be offended or flattered

"it means i have seen the way your eyes shine with excitement whenever we are..... ruthless" he grinned finally finding the opportunity to bring it up

" What? You could tell? Im i that transparent? what can i say there is a strange beauty in it i suppose. It's also morbidly satisfying to see them beg after they insult us for no reason." you laughed. never thinking you'd be able to say it out loud.

"then why dont you accompany me to the deal tomorrow there is sure to be some action. i'll let you have your fun" he said leaning in to kiss you

"Omg would you really let me? such a generous offer who knew that mr. leader of onychinus was such a sweet lover" you teased as you kissed his cheeks in excitement unintentionally missing his kiss.

"And who knew ms. hunter was such a cruel woman?" he frowned clearly displeased by his stolen chance to kiss your lips

"shh its my secret to you" you pecked his lips with a laugh that rang trough his ears like twinkling fairy bells.

"and my sweetness is my secret to you" he said deepening your kiss.

[boom-butterflyeffect]

WARNING/S - smut, mentions of killing/stabbing, knife play, choking, mr.ghostface kink?, mask kink?, <3

you heard a bang as the lodge door slammed shut, instantly getting your attention as you shot up from the bed. you swore youd locked all the doors before getting into bed and the only other person with a key was josh but hed had to stay late at the smaller cabin, Jessica and Mike's "love den", as he called it. "last minute preparations, babe", he said.

slowly creeping around the corner of the bedroom door you peaked out to see.. nobody. the long hallway was completely.. empty. so you went back into the room and grabbed your boyfriends baseball bat, then made your way into the kitchen followed by the living room. once again seeing.. nothing.

hand falling to the side as you sighed to yourself. maybe you were just way too tired and imagining things, the religious watching and study of horror media finally getting to you, you thought, just before you felt two hands reach around you, grabbing your mouth to silence you and your waist to hold you against them.

you tried as hard as you could to fight them off, not even being able to see who it was that had grabbed you until you heard the familiar laugh of your boyfriend as he let go of you.

“its me, kitten!” he lifted the ghostface mask to reveal a very amused grin on his face and you shook your head at him.

“JOSH! you scared me to death!” you yelled at him, looking down at his baseball bat still in your hand.

“if i was a real intruder id definitely have had to kidnap you.” he said, using the knife he was holding to motion to your clothes. or lack of.

as youd been in bed you were literally in just a small thong and a cropped scream t shirt, how ironic. you roll your eyes, moving closer to him as his arms wrap around you and you pull the mask back down over his face.

“you look.. hot.” you told him and heard a laugh from under the mask.

“you want me to fuck you like this?” he jokes but quickly notices as your eyes change at his words. “oh you do.. you want me to put this knife against your throat and make you beg for you life, kitten?”

“josh..” you whisper out, barely being able to find your voice over the shock you were in from your boyfriends words. youd always had a thing for the ghostface character, among others, and hearing your boyfriend speaking this way was doing something to you.

his hand reaches out and grips onto your throat, pinning you against the nearest wall as he presses the knife above his hand. “what kitten?” he asks and you cant even think, never mind speak to reply to him.

“you better start talking or im gonna have to make you, and im sure you dont want that do you kitten?” he asks, moving the knife to trail down your tummy causing a whine to slip from your lips. “oh maybe you do.. hm? you like how my knife feels against your pretty skin?”

“josh please..” you whine and he laughs, shaking his head at your reaction.

“youre such a little whore. i bet you loved how you felt when you thought i was someone else hm? did it make your little pussy wet to think about me forcing this knife into your skin.. making you beg for your life?”

your breath fell from your lips in a scattered fashion as your chest rose and fell quickly. you couldnt even imagine, he couldnt even imagine, how wet you were right now, how wet he was making you. cheeks reddening as he spoke to you.

“go on kitten, b.e.g.” the knife was pointed in to your skin, pushing hard enough to draw a little blood on to it.

“please jos-please dont kill me mr ghostface, i really want to be in the sequel.. ,you can do anything you want to me,.. ill do anything.” you pleaded so desperate and you could practically feel his smirk as he pressed a leg between your aching thighs.

“i know you will but its cute of you to remind me.. now shut the fuck up and go sit on the bed.” he ordered and you quickly did as he told.

you walked back into the room and sat on your knees on the bed, facing him as he walked over to you with a smirk before pulling the mask back down. his hand palmed himself through his pants as he made his way over, your mouth almost watering at the sight.

“you wanna suck my cock?” he asks and you nod your head, already desperate to please and he chuckles. “good slut.”

he undoes his pants, leaving them around his thighs before he grabs a fistful of your hair, dragging your face to meet with his already hard dick.

“s.u.c.k. now”.

you immediately take him into your mouth, tongue swirling around the tip before your head dips lower taking in more of him.

he groans as your cheeks hollow, and you look up at him,.. well the mask.

“fuck, fuck, fuck.” he grunts out, pushing your head down to choke on his cock. “good fucking kitten gag on my cock.”

you could feel yourself getting wetter by the second as he continued. josh had never yet been this rough with you and you couldnt lie. you really liked it and you could tell that he did too.

he drags you off and your head up to meet his mask. "you want me to cum down your slutty little throat before i slit it open? hm is that what you want little whore?" he asks and you practically whimper.

"please mr.ghostface." you nod and he pushes you back down, you latching back onto his cock instantly.

he holds you hair again, fucking into your face due to his desperate state now. he twitches in your mouth before spilling down your throat and you swallow without hesitation.

"thank you mr.ghostface." you smile up at him in the most innocent way possible, attempting to rub your thighs together for some release.

"stand." he orders and you scramble to your feet in front of him and with no warning he rips off your top and drags down your underwear. "so fucking perfect, id be insane not to want to cut your pretty little throat wouldnt i? hm?" he asks and you nod.

"stupid slut." he laughs before pulling you to sit on his lap, his cock directly below your aching cunt.

"what do you want babe? tell me what you want." he coos, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear and you sigh.

"i want to ride you.. please." you almost moan just at the thought he nods.

"go on then kitten, maybe if youre good i wont have to kill you, hm? ill keep you around as my own little toy." he questions and you dont even answer.

you quickly sink down on his cock, moaning out loudly as you finally feel him inside of you. "josh o.h m.y g.o.d." he groans, gripping at your hips and forcing you to move.

you bounce up and down as he uses a hand to grab at one of your boobs. "perfect, youre so fucking perfect." he grunts and you smile down at him, pressing a kiss to his mask. "and so so cute." his hand trails up your back to tug at your hair.

"mi..-mister im close." you moan out, your eyes squeezing shut as you feel that familiar feeling in your stomach.

"hold it." he spits, his nail digging into your hip as he begins to thrust up into you, helping both of you to get closer.

his free hand grabs your throat, fingers tightening around it as he fucks you both to your highs.

"go on kitten show me how much of a good girl you are cum all over my cock." he tells you and you cum immediately, your nails dragging over his all black clothed chest as you moan loudly, screaming his name over and over.

"fuck." he grunts, as he lets go of your throat letting you fall against him as the two of you come down, breathing heavily for a few minutes.

"babe.." josh asks, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear and you hum, tracing patterns over his chest. "you okay?" he asks, continuing to play with your hair and you nod, exhausted.

“you never told me you into ghostface hm?” he laughs and you shrug.

“i got too many horror crushes.” you confess.

“oh yeah?"

"wait.. does beetlejuice count as horror too?" you quiz to no one really.

josh laughs.

__

idk im bored

jesus fucking christ anon.

Josh definitely would, especially around Halloween time since he has an excuse for dressing up in the costumes.

was not expecting a smut oneshot in my inbox, but i am not mad about it at all, good lord.

[shigayokagayama]

mob warriors au redesigns and such, some i barely changed and others i pretty much started from scratch lol

full canvas and explanations under the cut, theres a bunch of other characters and stuff i didnt manage to fit or didnt have the energy to draw that ill probably get around to in the coming future

so by virtue of mob psycho kind of acting as a parody of a shonen in a lot of its characters and usage of tropes i felt like it was fitting that a warriors au sort of act as a parody of warriors.

basically, pretty much every major character is either a house cat of some sort, but they all see clan cats as these sort of cool aspirational things so they give themselves warrior names and know of general clan concepts (though, since the nearby clan left a long time ago due to twoleg construction on their territory, these concepts have sort of become distorted over time. istg i came up with this before warriorclan me and erin hunter just have some odd psychic link)

saltsplash (reigen) is a declawed kittypet who loves the taste of freshkill, so he has taken on the persona of a former medicine cat who came from far away on some sort of spiritual quest to help the cats in this area (in reality his owners just moved here) in order to get cats to catch prey for him in exchange for advice. flockpaw (mob) comes to him for advice, since he can see spirits and keeps getting dreams from starclan, and saltsplash agrees to take him as an apprentice

there is a pretty significant ghost problem in the area, the destruction of the moonstone equivalent (this isnt the setting of og warriors because i find switching what region/biome theyre in to be kind of part of the fun to making warriors aus so this is still japan. cats can now encounter monkeys.) has left a lot of souls trapped in the physical plane and unable to pass on. dimple (still going back and forth on his name) is one of these cats, he was a clan cat but so long ago that he's forgotten his original life and only remembers the goal of "bring back the clans with yourself as leader", which he initially tries to posses random cats to do before meeting flockpaw and settling on him as a good potential clan leader

the actual clans, meanwhile, have gone way downhill since they moved away. their numbers were dwindling pretty badly when hawkstar (toichiro) took over his clan, renamed it clawclan, conquered the other clans in the area and marked all his dissenters with scars, and has forged forward with the goal of reconquering their old territory in the twolegplace in the hopes that it will bring the clans back to their glory days. a lot of the more sensible cats, including his mate, have left the clan, so he's resorted to recruiting outsiders as well as kidnapping young cats with warrior potential in order to fill out their numbers

other stuff i dont want to write entire paragraphs for

-teru was someones outdoor cat but his owners moved :( he named himself starpaw and everyone who knows shit about the clans tries to tell him hes not allowed to do that but are too scared to argue further with him about it because he gets really pissed when you point it out

-the telepathy clubs goal is to meet lions, which everyone thinks arent real

-the awakening lab is mitsuura (curlystar maybe?)'s attempt to start his own clan

-the student council is a gang of young kittypets who have tasked themselves with enforcing "the warrior code" among the delinquents (rivals gangs of young alley cats). all the older cats see this as a game theyre playing and dont take it seriously

-flashpaw (mezato) was part of dimple's initial play to brainwash a bunch of cats into reforming a clan and worshiping "starclan" (him) and those group of cats have shifted to seeing flockpaw as starclans prophet, so she's trying to convince HIM to start a new clan

-rainshade (serizawa) was initially a kittypet who always hid in his cat carrier out of his fear of his starclan given powers, hawkstar found him on one of his recruiting missions because his mother was worried for him and was asking around for someone with experience with starclan

-mogami (crowflight maybe? maggotsomething?) was an actual former warrior who went to twolegplace to get help for his sick mother after starclan said there was nothing that could be done for her. kittypets offered to get her help in exchange for him helping them with spirit problems and got their owners to bring her to the cutter (vet) and when they did the vets put her down so he started killing cats about it seeing them all as selfish thugs beyond redemption before his own death and transformation into a vengeful spirit

-minori (still thinking of a name bc i dont have her design down) is someones very haughty purebred show cat who gets hella possessed.

-didnt anyone ever teach you feeding downed fledglings was bad manners?

-SunClan (the rising sun union) are a gang of random housecats, some of whom have actual StarClan connections and others are just opportunistic liars, who use extremely predatory means to help cats with their ghost problems (asking for a specific share of a cat's meals permanently rather than saltsplash's ask of like. one fresh songbird)

thats all the stuff i can think of off the top of my head but if you ask questions i can probably answer them bc ive been thinking about this since like. march 2022.

[larcenywrites]

Hi English is not my first language, so sorry for the mistakes, but I could do a Kurt Wagner x reader, in which the reader follows the Wicca religion, or something linked to witchcraft, they are both in a relationship and I would like to see how their different beliefs would affect their relationship (already that Kurt is Catholic although I believe he has no prejudice in dating someone with a different religion I would like to see how this would affect their coexistence)

sorry for the writing errors

I have lots of thoughts about this that I can’t reflect in a single one shot, so for now I’ll do some headcanons! However, it would be interesting to parallel this with a spin on Kurt’s 2004 solo series! So I will probably do something with that :) Obviously, I can do research, but I am in no way knowledgeable about the practices nor those who practice wicca or witchcraft. I don’t want to generalize and say, like, “Kurt x witch reader”, but I’m not quite sure what else exactly to put :(

Nightcrawler with a Witch S/O

Headcanons

Warnings: aside from mentions of religion and witchcraft there’s nothing | I mean there’s some cute stuff here and there if it counts :)

⚜️ Kurt may be catholic, but his background is full of diverse people with different perspectives and practices!

⚜️ Scarlet Witch, his adopted mother, and his adopted sister all practice witchcraft, and he has a… well, decent enough relationship with all of them! But any of their spats have nothing to do with their way of life!

⚜️ He means well when he wants to drag you to mass Sunday morning. Really! He does! It’s something he’s done with every one of his friends by now, anyway, but it’s just that it’s a huge part of his life! He genuinely just wants you there! Sure, he can’t deny there’s always going to be some part of him that wants you to also be on some level of his own religion, but again, it’s from no place of ill will.

⚜️ After all, even though he has seen firsthand that this rule is relatively loose, I think it’s normal for someone in his belief system to worry whether their life partner will be able to join them in the afterlife :( He’s going to worry about it from time to time. He’s also definitely going to pray about it a lot. Take it in a sweet way— he just really cares about your love so much that he’s afraid it’ll have to end 🥲

⚜️ He also means well when he brings home various herbs and wildflowers he’s seen you use!! He probably even tries to make a cute little bouquet to present them! Obviously the source of said plants might not be ideal 😅 So maybe it’s time to expand a little garden! Plus, having a small garden if your preferred ingredients or offerings is a good way to teach him a thing or two in case he needs it (again), and he enjoys helping out in non-direct ways! Besides, gardening is a cute activity to do together 😘

⚜️ Speaking of which, while he’ll always be grounded in his faith, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t acknowledge everything around him! He’s seen demons and gods, magic and ghosts, heaven and… well, not hell, but you get the gist! So don’t worry, he knows well enough that not only what you do is real and powerful, but still a respectable craft. In fact, I’m sure he holds a deep respect especially if you tend to be one who thanks the Earth/ask permission for resources often. And you just might rub off on him! While he would be thanking God instead, it probably makes him more mindful of his everyday interactions with the environment 😌

⚜️ But because of his own beliefs, I’m sure certain practices or spells would make him nervous 😅 Because of this, if there’s a specific deity/god/goddess/etc you answer to/pray to that really clashes with his morals and beliefs, a relationship probably won’t last long.

⚜️ But just because some things make him nervous, it doesn’t mean he’s going to leave or anything. He might not partake in a tarot drawing or participate in certain things, but he still respects it and trusts you.

⚜️ But, uh, there might also be times when he’s literally in the next room holding the cross around his neck and praying aloud while you’re trying to do something 🤧 But this also works the other way around! Not only does it probably throw off either of your thoughts, but I’m sure it doesn’t help either of you when you both might be putting very different energy into the room rn 😅

⚜️ If for whatever reason you ever need something from him, like a bit of his fur, you probably have his permission already to just walk up to him with a pair of scissors! Even so, he usually asks billion questions 😒 So is it worth the hassle?

⚜️ While your beliefs and intentions may be different, you both might share quite a few daily rituals! Kurt won’t at all mind sharing the rug or the lawn with you if you meditate as often as he does. You both use it for similar reasons, really. It might even be both nice and interesting to have a conversation about any thoughts and experiences afterward 💙 Maybe, for once, you both found the answers you needed this morning and can share it :)

⚜️ But there are some other things he considers more “harmless,” so to speak that he does participate in. If you tend to journal things like dreams and daily experiences to cross reference later for any signs and such, he might do it too. Well- he’ll probably tell you his dreams or a reoccurrence he’s noticed (especially if it’s something that has been stressing him or maybe he’s just got a gut feeling he can’t explain) and see what you have to say about it! Just because you have different beliefs doesn’t mean he can’t find value in what you have studied and what you have to say!

⚜️ I’m sure many mornings he likes to drink teas with specific herbs and what they’re known for, and you might also partake in this! Of course, there’s probably much more intention behind the herbs you use, the way you prepare it, the way you stir it, but sometimes Kurt just likes to feel involved :)

⚜️ You don’t have to worry about him messing with any of your stuff! It’s probably out of both respect and paranoia, but he won’t mess with any alters or offerings or generally just the way you have your side of the room set up (though, probably after some gentle explaining here and there…)

⚜️ However, he may have a hard time with wanting to look at and touch any rocks and crystals… In a very respectful way, he just thinks they’re pretty and neat, okay? ;w; To be honest, get him one or two to have of his own that you think he needs when he’s stressed or when he’s out on missions. Kurt will carry them with him everywhere ❤️‍🩹 Because while he might not always believe that they carry this or that type of energy, he knows it means you care 🥰