#please assume it’s generally always implied

[demigod-shenanigans]

Cannot overstate the fact that I haven’t specifically written this snippet for a fic, but I was thinking about the kind of mindset Jason must have been in pre Burning Maze and this snippet just kind of happened:

Jason knew that Thalia was the first person he’d ever loved, but he could only miss his sister like a kind-faced stranger. He missed her like a butterfly he’d chased through the woods when he’d been little—almost close enough to touch, but always just out of reach.

Jason missed Reyna, but the feeling was foreign, like phantom pain in a lost limb—an incomprehensible ache originating from a part of him that was no longer there that flared up at random intervals and that he didn’t know how to soothe.

Jason missed Leo like the fire of a hearth. Like the warmth and safety of a home he’d never known, and had realized from the beginning he wouldn’t be able to keep. Because if there was one thing Jason could rely on in his life, it was that the good things never lasted.

Jason missed Piper like a final string. He‘d thought that at least he’d always have her—until, suddenly, he didn’t.

And then he was free falling.

[cevansbrat0007]

Guessing Games: A Fast Car Interlude

Summary: You accidentally trigger Ari's jealous streak. Takes place directly after the events in Guessing Games.

Warnings: Mature Themes, Implied Future Smut, Ari Being A Menace, Brat!Reader, Jealous!Ari, Innocent Flirting, Stupid Men, Manhandling, Mentions of Spanking, Discussions of Self-Image, Mentions of Lingerie, Semi-Public Sex, Allusions to Fingering, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: After a shitty week, please enjoy this completely self-indulgent fic. Part of my Sweet Renegade Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

“Hey. I know this car.” You think as you come to stand in front of a vehicle on display that happens to look strangely familiar. Smoothing your hands down the skirt of your sundress, you manage a quick side-step, narrowly avoiding a collision with a small child who was too busy enjoying his ice cream cone to pay attention to where he was going. 

You’ve been wandering around Fulton County’s annual Classic Car Showcase for the better part of an hour now, and so far things were going better than you’d expected. And not only that, but you were even beginning to have fun.

“I can see why this one caught your eye.” A familiar voice muses as he comes up behind you. 

“I’m trying to figure out where I’ve seen it before. But I’m drawing a blank.” Angling your body, you reach for one of Ari’s big hands, grasping it with both of yours. “Any ideas?” 

“You really don’t recognize it?” 

“‘Fraid not.” Your lips purse as you continue to wrack your brain. 

“It’s an exact replica of The General Lee, the 1969 Dodge Charger driven by Bo and Luke.” 

“Who?” You stare up at him confused. 

That earns you a chuckle, followed by him placing a gentle kiss atop your head. “Bo and Luke. From The Dukes of Hazzard. It was a popular show back in the eighties.” He explains, brushing a stray curl away from your face.

“Oh. Got it.” You nod, pretending to understand. “Mystery solved.”

You both stand there a few moments longer – mostly so he can admire the engine, or whatever the hell you assumed he was doing. Once he’s looked his fill, it’s apparently time to move on to the next car that catches his interest. You’re seemingly content to trail behind him until you happen to spot a nearby cluster of tents. 

“Ari?” 

“Yeah, little Bird?” The rich timbre of his voice has you smiling before you even realize you’re doing it.

“I reckon all this car hoppin’ has me feelin’ a little parched.” You tell him, turning your attention to the concessions located just across the lot. “I’m gonna go fetch myself a lemonade real quick while the lines are short.”

As expected, your man responds without missing a beat. But not before leading you over to the shade so that you can continue your conversation. Which was a good thing seeing as the temperature outside was hovering around the mid-eighties.

“Well, we can’t have that now can we?” Mirroring your smile, he brings your hand to his lips so that he can kiss the ridges of your knuckles. “Let’s go get you somethin’ to drink.”

“Hey, it’s okay. I’ll go while you hang out here in the shade.” Your palms come up to rest against the hard wall of his chest. “Besides,” you continue when he opens his mouth to object. “It’s not like I’m going far. I’ll just  be right over there.”  

“Nah.” Ari swiftly disagrees, adjusting his sunglasses. “How about you wait here while I go get us both something to drink?”

“Are you sure?” 

“Yep.” He gently flicks the tip of your nose. “After all, what kinda man would I be if I left my sweetheart out here to melt?”

“I mean…if you insist.” Rising on your toes – a feat made easier thanks to your wedge heels – you plant a smooch on his bearded cheek. “Hurry back, sugar.” 

Now that he’s officially a man on a mission, Ari wastes almost no time making a beeline for the concessions. But not before issuing a stern warning to you, his curious little Bird.

“Don’t you go wanderin’ off on me, darlin’.” He growls, leaning down to tenderly peck your lips . “I expect to find you right here in this spot when I come back.” 

And then he’s gone. You barely have time to respond with a playful salute before he’s striding off in search of sustenance for you both. Leaving you alone to twiddle your thumbs while you dutifully await his return. 

Not that you minded. If anything, grateful for this brief respite from the heat. It never crosses your mind to abandon your spot in favor of looking at more cars. At least, not until you spy one that has you gasping in pure delight.

“Woah.” You breathe as you come to stand in front of the one vehicle with the power to transport you straight back to your childhood: a 1958 Plymouth Fury.  

Better known as the car from Stephen King’s novel, Christine. 

You’d absolutely loved this movie as a kid. So much so that your Uncle had bought you your own personal copy after he got tired of renting it for you weekend after weekend. Why, you must’ve seen it over a hundred times. 

But as luck would have it, your private glee is interrupted by the sound of a voice coming up behind you. 

“She’s a beaut, ain’t she?” The man asks, his southern drawl growing even more inviting when he tips his black stetson. “Restored her myself.” 

“Holy crap! It looks just like the one from the film.” You chirp, reaching out to run your fingers along the shiny finish before swiftly thinking better of it. “Sorry.” Is all you can manage as you turn to face him. “I just…never thought I’d get the chance to see it in person.”

“Well…” The dark haired cowboy admits, flashing a chagrined smile. “It’s not actually the car. But it’s pretty dang close. Took me a few years, seeing that pretty smile of yours makes it all worth it.” His smile only grows wider as he holds out his hand to you. “The name’s Russell, by the way.”

You two spend a few more moments exchanging names and pleasantries before he politely redirects the attention back to the prized vehicle in front of you. Russell invites you to ask all the questions you like, only to laugh when you eagerly take him up on his offer. 

In fact, you’re enjoying the conversation so much that you hardly notice when he slowly begins inching closer to you, his leanly muscled frame almost boxing you in. He was charming – you’d give him that much. And easy on the eyes.

Russell was the type of man who warranted a second look. Or at least he would. That is, assuming you hadn’t already been blessed with the gift of Ari Daniel Levinson. 

“You know,” He murmurs, his cool gaze warming as he boldly peruses your dress. “Something tells me this conversation would pair wonderfully with a glass of wine.” His hand reaches for yours once more. “Perhaps over dinner?”

“Oh, I’m sorry...” The shocked apology comes tumbling out of your mouth. “I–I can’t. I actually came with someone. He’s–”

“Look, I don’t wanna be too forward.” Russell smoothly interrupts, stroking his thumb along the ridge of your knuckles. “But I haven’t been able to let you out of my sight since I saw you damn near an hour ago. Honestly can’t remember the last time I came across a woman as sweet as you.”

“That’s awfully kind of you to say.” You reply, intending to let him down easy.

“I saw that fella you were with.” He continues in earnest, still refusing to relinquish his grip on your hand. “Also saw him walk off and abandon you too.” 

“He didn’t – no one abandoned anybody!” Closing your eyes, you can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of the entire situation. You weren’t used to men hitting on you like this. It has you feeling way out of your depth. 

“Be that as it may, I also believe in fate.” His already gravelly voice dips an octave. “I mean, I’ve come to this showcase year after year and never once have I met someone like you.” 

“I…I’m not sure I’d go that far.” You hedge as you weigh your options. 

On one hand, you really did want to be polite. But you also needed to be firm. You already had a man in your life. A man who owned you – mind, body, and soul. Not that you’d had any say in the matter. But these days, you were well past complaining about the handsome Beast of a man you’d come to cherish.

“Think about it.” Your would-be suitor implores, giving you a gentle squeeze. “There has to be a reason our paths crossed today.” 

Alright. It was officially time to put a nail in this coffin. You open your mouth to respond, only to have someone else beat you to the punch. 

“I think it’s about time you let go of her hand.” Ari rumbles, the sound coming from somewhere deep in his chest. “Now.”

“Something I can help you with, buddy?” Russell responds without hesitation, clearly annoyed by the other man’s sudden reappearance. “Because the lady and I were in the middle of a conversation.”

“And I’m sure it was a great one.” Your bounty hunter is too busy glaring at his apparent rival to pay you any real mind. Although, he’s quick to shove a cup of what you suspect to be lemonade into your palm the second Russell releases his hold. “Too bad it’s over now. Let’s go, sweet Bird.” 

The ice in his tone is enough to make you shiver. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Ari was none too happy to find you entertaining the company of another man. But the last thing you’d expected was for him to be jealous. 

Unless you were reading things wrong. 

“I’m afraid you’re gonna have to wait, fella.” Russell surprises everyone by coming to stand almost nose-to-nose with Ari. “Because she and I were about to take the ride out for a little spin.” 

“We most certainly were not.” You try, impatiently tugging on his arm. “Ari, let’s just go.” Although, you’re not surprised when you end up being completely ignored. 

“Oh yeah?”

“Guess that’s what happens when you abandon a pretty little flower like her all alone in an empty field.” Grinning like a Cheshire cat, Russelly makes a point of poking your man in his chest. “I’m just glad I was lucky enough to be here to catch your mistake.”

Worry fills you when you see Ari simply nod along, his brawny shoulders wrought with tension. Sucking on his teeth, the bounty hunter briefly looks away as he forces himself to take a calming breath. Not that it seems to help any. 

“You know what? I get it. No, really–I do.” Ari smirks, reaching up to lightly scratch at his jaw. “I knew what I was getting into, walking into a showcase like this with a beautiful woman on my arm, wearin’ the hell out of that dress.” One thick arm wraps itself around your waist, hauling you close. “My girl turns heads everywhere she goes. She’s just too sweet to realize it.”

Tucking you behind him, your man bridges the last bit of distance between himself and Russell. And while you can’t see his face, you’re shocked when he gently lifts his rival’s hat from his head, before tossing it in the direction of his forgotten plymouth. 

“And sometimes that sweetness makes cowboys do stupid fuckin’ things.” Ari continues, sounding almost smug. But you don’t miss the danger in his tone. “Which is why I’m gonna be the bigger man right now and walk away, before I give into the urge to find out if you have what it takes to make the long drive home with a fractured arm.”

“Alright, that’s enough from you two.” You snap, finally fed up with all this male posturing. After all this nonsense, you just wanted to sit down and enjoy your drink before all the ice melted. “Russell, cool car. But I’m not interested, okay? And as for you, Ari…”

In lieu of responding, your man chooses to quirk one impatient, tawny brow. 

“You’re looking a little flushed. I think it’s time we got you outta the sun.” Grabbing his wrist, you proceed to physically drag him away from the scene. It takes virtually all your might, but you’re grateful when his legs finally begin to move.

You don’t stop walking until you reach a set of picnic tables that are far enough away from the show to give you both some much needed privacy while you hashed things out. 

“Darlin’, I can tell by your face you’re fixin’ to yell.” Ari growls, yanking his arm out of your grasp. "And I'd like to make my case before you start." His frown only deepens as he watches you perch on the edge of a bench, but not before taking a dramatic sip of your ice cold lemonade. 

It tastes divine – the perfect treat for a hot summer’s day.

“Did you really have to throw the poor man’s hat?” You ask, fanning yourself.

“Probably not. But it felt good.” He shrugs, jamming his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Should’ve stuffed his ass in the goddamned trunk while I was at it.” 

“I don’t know what you think you saw, but I was in the process of letting him down easy.”

“Could’ve sworn I told your bratty self to stay put where I fuckin’ left you.” His normally clear blue eyes glitter dangerously, letting you know that he’s pissed. “I mean, it was bad enough waitin’ in line listening to two idiots talk about which one of ‘em was gonna be brave enough to ask for your number…”

“Yeah right.” You scoff, looking up at the sky as you pray for patience.

“Roll ‘em at me one more time, baby. Swear to God.” Scrubbing a hand over his jaw, he finds himself wondering for the umpteenth time just what the hell he’d been thinking bringing you to something like this with you wearing a dress like that. “I’m just itchin’ for a reason to lift that skirt and redden your disrespectful ass.”

In Ari’s mind, you were always the prettiest girl in the room. But on a day like today? You were downright irresistible. And what made it even worse is that you honestly had no idea the effect you had sometimes – on him and damn near every other man who came into your presence.  

“You can’t talk like that!” You hiss, hoping that you weren’t being overheard. 

“And just why the hell not?”

“Because we’re in public, you Beast!” 

Rising to your feet, you set your drink on the table, deciding it might be better if you put some distance between you. Too bad Ari chooses to follow, walking you backwards until you feel yourself collide with the base of a nearby tree. His hands come to rest on either side of your head, effectively caging you in with his much larger frame.  

“I should’ve known what I was getting into the moment I decided to let you walk outta the house wearing that dress.” Ari rasps, trailing his nose along the delicate column of your throat. “I thought I was safe, even with that lacey little scrap of nothin’ you’ve got hidin’ underneath.” 

You barely manage to stifle a moan when your man captures your bottom lip between his teeth, sucking hard before releasing it with a soft pop. One of his hands leaves its purchase to settle dangerously low on your hip. 

“But I see now that’s not enough for you, is it baby?” You press your thighs together when that same hand moves once again. This time working it’s way under your skirt - his short, blunt nails dancing along your skin as his mouth hovers a mere centimeter above yours. “I’m not sure why you thought it might be a good idea to tease me like this. Not too keen on you flirting with other men.”

“I promise I wasn’t.” Your eyes flutter closed as he grinds his growing erection against the softness of your belly. “I just got excited about the car. It’s from one of my favorite Stephen King stories.” 

“Is that why I found you two holdin’ hands?” You let out a whimper when you feel the roughened pads of his fingers dig into your heated flesh, making you squirm. “Because you were excited?”

It wasn’t often that your man got riled up like this. But when he did there was almost no getting through to him until he calmed down. If you were lucky, you could typically drag him to some place quiet, away from prying eyes and listening ears.

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry, sugar.” Leaning up, you press a kiss against the corner of his mouth. “I suppose I wouldn’t like it either if I saw you holding hands with a random woman. Promise it won’t happen again.” You add, weaving your arms around his trim waist after all you receive is a grunt for your trouble. 

Although you can’t help but notice that some of the tension seems to have finally left his shoulders.

“Thank you.” 

Ari allows his forehead to rest against your own as he struggles to collect himself. Wanting more, you cup his face with your hands, bring his mouth down for a much needed kiss. His eager tongue dances with yours, demanding more of your submission as the passion builds.

You’re both breathing hard when you finally come up for air. However, you realize your man’s not done. At least not yet. 

“You’re enough to drive a man insane. You know that?” He groans in between soft, yet feral kisses. “I swear I try to be progressive – I do. I got sisters. A niece.” A sound almost like a purr rumbles in his chest as he nuzzles his nose in the crook of your neck. “But I’m also man enough to admit I’ve got a bit of a jealous streak. Never was much of a problem until I met you.”

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.” You murmur at the same time as your pussy spasms, dampening your panties with your slick. 

“Good.” Ari lifts your leg, hitching it around his waist and not giving a damn about who sees. “And Bird?”

“Uh huh?” A shiver courses through you as he begins covering your exposed flesh with tiny, possessive love bites. This time you make no move to stop him. Thank goodness you’d had the foresight to pack some concealer.

“I hate to break it to you.” His mouth finds yours once more, deliberately teasing you with each sensual stroke and flick of his tongue. “But you and me, we’re not gonna make it back to Bell’s Creek tonight.”

“And w–why is that?” Your eyes threaten to roll back in your head as his fingers find your clit, toying with the swollen nub through the soaked fabric of your panties. 

“Because I’m having the damnedest time trying to talk myself out of fucking you hard and fast on the hood of my truck.” He responds with an unapologetic shrug. “But I suppose I’ll just have to settle for a hotel, huh?” Grinning, he increases the pressure on your sensitive bundle of nerves, loving the way you buck and writhe beneath his touch.

“I’ll start hunting for reservations.” You move to reach for your phone even as you feel your vision blur and your toe s curl. “But whatever you do…oh God…just please don’t stop.”’

END

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[spider-stark]

house of the dragon masterlist // link to my general masterlist

General Warnings -

⚔️ This blog is 18+

🛡️ This particular masterlist currently contains only Aegon II Targaryen, Benjicot Blackwood, Aeron Bracken, Gwayne Hightower, and Criston Cole. however, i am open to writing about other hotd characters

⚔️ All of these fic's contain dark themes or content that is considered inappropriate by some readers, so adhere warnings! I am not responsible for your content consumption; so please read responsibly!

🛡️ If you happen to notice that something is not tagged appropriately or you feel a fic needs a particular warning, please let me know and I will do my best to correct this mistake.

⚔️ And, as always, happy reading!

A CRUEL FATE

⚔️ SUMMARY - Having been in love with Aegon your entire life, you always assumed that he never felt the same. Now set to wed his brother, Aemond, your frustration finally peaks and leads to you confessing your feelings.

🛡️ WARNINGS - suggestive language/actions, light use of y/n (sorry), sad aegon lol, obvious incest

LITTLE DRAGON

⚔️ SUMMARY - Your elder brother, Jace, attempts to teach you how to wield a sword. Aegon, your new betrothed, interrupts.

🛡️ WARNINGS - slight Jace x Reader, incest

THE CONQUEROR'S CROWN

⚔️ SUMMARY - After being captured by a member of the Kingsguard on your way to Winterfell, Aegon calls for you in the throne room.

🛡️ WARNINGS - light smut, oral, kidnapping, blades/blood, possible hematolagnia, eludes disappointed mom!rhaenyra (absolutely no bashing tho), and obvious incest

JEALOUSY

⚔️ SUMMARY - Dealing with the consequences of making Aegon jealous

🛡️ WARNINGS - abusive/toxic relationship, definite masochism, choking, brief mentions of blood, brief mentions of blades, targcest

PRECIPICE

⚔️ SUMMARY - Forced to attend a stuffy ball, you find yourself hiding beneath a table with Aegon.

🛡️ WARNINGS - implied targcest

SPARRING PARTNER

⚔️ SUMMARY - You and Aegon have hardly spoken since sharing a particularly sensual moment a month ago. Now he thinks he stands a chance in a sparring match.

🛡️ WARNINGS - implied targcest, hints to smut, blood, horny/stupid argon & reader

SWORN RIVALS

⚔️ SUMMARY - Taking up sparring with your sworn rival is likely never a good idea.

🛡️ WARNINGS - kieran burton fan cast, all character 18+, barely edited, blood, implied fighting, suggestive language but no real smut, likely ooc given that the episode hasn't even aired yet lmao

LADY STRONG

⚔️ SUMMARY - Stuck in the Riverland's on a marriage tour, you pretend to be Lady Strong when Benjicot Blackwood doesn't recognize you as the Princess of the Seven Kingdoms

🛡️ WARNINGS - kieran burton fan cast, all character 18+, not edited!!

THE BRIDGE

⚔️ SUMMARY - Your wardship with House Blackwood was meant to bridge the chasm between your families. Years later, you return to Stone Hedge as the whispers of war spread—only for Lord Tully to call for a hunt.

🛡️ WARNINGS - fem!reader, complicated sibling relationship, fighting, (probably excessive) mentions of blood, talks about hunting/killing wild animals, !angst!, adult language, reader def suffering from identity crisis, probably deviates from canon some, kieran burton fan cast for benji, all characters 18+

THE GOLD TANKARD

⚔️ SUMMARY - Benji is a regular at the tavern you work at—and you're starting to think he's forgetting his coin on purpose.

🛡️ WARNINGS - fem!reader, kieran burton fan cast, all characters 18+, suggestive/sexual language, not edited bc I'm lazy and wrote this for fun in like an hour

GOLD

⚔️ SUMMARY - You go sneaking through Bracken territory for some time alone with Aeron.

🛡️ WARNINGS - fem!reader, blackwood!reader, mentions of blood, mentions of fighting, no real plot, hurt/comfort, subtle rivals-to-lovers, aeron grabbing boobies lmao, maybe some grammar errors idk

LITTLE BRACKEN KNIGHT

⚔️ SUMMARY - You sneak into Aeron's room at Stone Hedge.

🛡️ WARNINGS - fem!reader, blackwood!reader not edited, suggestive language, hints towards smut but there is none, secret relationship trope ig, blackwood!reader being a little shit

A CONVERSATION BETWEEN OLD FRIENDS

⚔️ SUMMARY - Devotion will never be enough to make the Gods forgive you for the sin of your existence. They will keep finding new ways to punish you.

🛡️ WARNINGS - fem!reader, bastard!reader, septa!reader, mostly edited, heavy religious themes & guilt, angst, yearning, *slightly* ooc gwayne but mostly cause he's drunk and bitter lmao

SWORN PROTECTOR

⚔️ SUMMARY - After sneaking back into the Keep from a night spent out in the city, you find your sworn protector, Ser Criston Cole, waiting for you in your room.

🛡️ WARNINGS - fem!reader, targtower!reader, not edited, reader has mommy/daddy issues, duty turned devotion type bullshit, criston can't just guard a woman without falling in love ig, yearning

[loveisanimaginarydagger3000]

The Soldier Of Death (5)- Broken

Natasha Romanoff X Super Soldier Reader 18+

Summary: Soldat Smerti. The Soldier of Death. You were the perfect weapon: loyal, obedient, and merciless, or so Hydra thought. What happens when these traits are put to the test? Your captivity in the Avenger's tower and the presence of a redhead makes you realise you didn't have to be a monster. The question was though; Did Hydra make you the monster or were you always one?

This fic will contains dark themes. Please read these warnings before starting any of these chapters: graphic descriptions of murder, violence, gore and torture, heavy angst, mental issues.

Please consider these warnings before reading

Word Count: 3.3k

General Masterlist | The Soldier Of Death Masterlist

Chapter Warning: Dark thoughts, brief implied/reference to torture and abuse

—

Pain radiated throughout your hands, the skin of your knuckles split and bruising, anger gnawing away at your mind at the incessant torment the darkness was unleashing upon you.

The reflection of the glass cage smirked at you teasingly, mockingly, as they lifted their hand up, inspecting the fresh wounds they had just caused. To further annoy you, they then stood up from the floor of the temporary cage you were in, moving closer to the glass. Their fingers slowly traced the small crack they had caused before wiping the small traces of blood that lingered from your hands.

Look at this, I can set us free.

They practically scoffed, turning their attention back to you and away from their show of strength. Your jaw merely clenched as they tried to get you to give up control again, their pestering causing your patience to run low. It was bad enough they had enough control to lash out, never mind letting them have complete control.

When you had woken up in the unfamiliar environment, the place you now assumed was within an Avengers facility, fear, confusion and panic invaded your mind, face remaining stoic to hide your emotions as your mind slowly crumbled under the overwhelming feelings piling onto you at once. While you were drowning in the spiral of thoughts, you lost control for a split second, proving how significant your self control had to be.

It was a blur of events, your body practically filling with anger and darkness as your fist vigorously smashed against the glass of whatever cell you had been put in, your knuckles colliding roughly again, and again, and again, until you got a grip of yourself, a low menacing chuckle ringing about in your head snapping you out of the brief memory of earlier.

You're a ticking time bomb.

They continue their taunting tone, their lips tugging into a sinister smile as they lean against the glass coyly, your head wanting to turn away from the reflection but seemingly unable to as you continue to glare at them.

Tik.

Tok.

Come on, let the Soldat come out to play.

You remain silent, not wanting to give them the satisfaction of biting back, instead ensuring your mouth was firmly shut, keeping your hard and cold stare on their annoyingly smug face. They blatantly roll their eyes at your lack of response, dramatically pushing themselves off of the glass before trudging back to the spot where you were sat, mirroring your position on the floor, fitting back into place as you shut them out.

Your ears pick up on the low hum of the electricity flowing around the room, powering the lights of the room, most likely the technology of the cell you were in and so much more based on how advanced the room seemed to be, doing your best to keep your mind busy.

You were shocked when you woke up in a bed, the soft mattress a pleasant surprise but the feeling so unnatural as the soft, cushioned material felt like it was sinking too far with your weight, causing you to quickly retreat to the floor, the solid surface oddly comforting. Another element that surprised you, as well as unnerved, was the fact you were out of your suit, the tight, restrictive mask free from your face, goggles also removed. The shirt on your body was loose, the matching black joggers also on the looser side but the fabric making you shocked something could be so impossibly soft. You were used to thick, rough fabrics, not whatever this luxury was.

The pads of your fingers drew small lines against the material, savouring the pleasant sensation against your skin before you raised your hands up to your face, feeling the skin of your face. It was rare you would be without the mask for so long, your general only ordering it to be off when he wanted to hurt you personally or when you would eat, the skin odd to touch as you outlined your features. Your lips were as expected rather dry, the bridge of your nose a little crooked after how many times it had been broken, cheekbones defined and jawline sharp. You were about to further venture across your facial features when distant steps could be heard, your ears picking up at least three pairs of boots.

Due to the heaviness of the steps, one of them was definitely a man, the other two seemingly women. Your assumptions were proven correct when the three figures walked through the large double doors that faced the glass cage, your eyes raking over the people.

The man was dressed in all black, an eye patch covering one of his eyes as a deep scar peeked over the edge of the patch, his expression serious to match his authoritative posture.

The woman to his right you recognised as the redhead from the fight, your jaw clenching, teeth pressing roughly against each other with how forcefully your jaw moved, the reminder of the two bullets she stuck in you not forgotten. Despite the irritation that took over, a strange emotion bubbled inside you as you gazed into the green that seemed to soften for a split second, your eyes flickering across her features, noting how her figure radiated pure dominance. Her arms crossed over her chest, your eyes flickering away from the movement and back up to her eyes that filled with curiosity as her face turned stoic.

To the right of the captivating redhead, wait captivating? Was the brunette woman, presumably a witch based off the red tendrils you saw, standing less confidently, nerves evident in her figure. Her fingers played anxiously with the rings littered on her fingers, your mind fearing the magic that coursed through them. The knowledge that she could easily get into your mind when distracted terrified you, a wall quickly building within your mind to block her.

"The bed would probably be more comfortable," the man said, his voice deep and attempting to ease the tension brewing in the room due to the silence. You remain quiet at his words, not even giving him a shrug of your shoulders or anything, remaining deadly still as you let him speak. "Not a chatty one then," he mutters, taking a step forward, the sound of his boot echoing around in your head. "Let's cut to the chase then," his eye remains fixated on you, watching for some sort of reaction, "This can go one or two ways." He doesn't care for your lack of response, continuing his speech, "You can give us the information that we want, and in return, we give you what you want. If you don't then, well, it seems like you're going to be sitting on that floor for a while." You don't believe his words, there's no way they'd give you what you want. You've never had that choice before.

It's a trick.

They just want you to be under their control. Not Hydra's. We're a threat if we don't obey them.

"Are you the Soldat Smerti?" His voice remains level while your gaze flickers back from the redhead who you were staring at to meet his stare, his eye watching you closely as your expression remains blank, almost lifeless, the redhead's brows furrowing at how your gaze was softer with her.

Yes.

The voice in your head replies, the man unable to hear as he persists in observing your irresponsive figure. You want to scream no, not wanting to accept your role as the monster Hydra called their weapon, but you remained silent, keeping the tense eye contact.

The brunette behind him tilts her head, trying to focus in on your thoughts as they weren't getting a verbal response, her eyes closing to help her concentrate. Static was all she could hear, brief parts making a little sense but nothing distinguishable.

"What are Hydra planning?" He asks, gathering that this plan of asking questions was going to be futile. He was about to say something else, a remark on the tip of his tongue when Natasha raised her hand up at him to interrupt him, walking confidently and closer towards your cell.

"We're not here to hurt you like them," she says and it's bold to assume what they've done to you, but it was Natasha. She was bold. A flicker of something indecipherable presents itself in your eyes before fading away just as quickly as it appeared. "No one has to get hurt," her tone is softer than the man's, an unusual warmth spreading inside you at the tender gaze, her green eyes expressing something foreign, something kind, the act a rare occurrence for you.

Liar.

Snaps the voice in your head, Wanda being taken back by the vehemence behind your voice, the violence behind the thought.

"She's not lying," the witch adds, her figure not as confident as she inches her way closer, standing behind the woman who was staring inquisitively at you, listening to the witch speak. "We don't want to hurt you, we just want to stop hydra from hurting anyone else."

Confusion and doubt seeps into your thoughts, your face remaining passive while your mind fights the conflicting emotions and thoughts, the broken and fragmented parts blurring together as they get louder and louder until it's painful to think. You can't trust them. You want to trust them. You don't know who to trust.

Me. Trust me.

We don't need them to be free.

The rest of their words fade into dull vibrations, merging with the faint buzz of the electrics as you block out everything you possibly can, even the darkness, almost turning off your humanity as you simply stare ahead.

The reflection in the glass remains still, the only movement being from your slow and deep breaths, and when the figures on the other side of the glass give up on their attempt to talk to you, to help you as they claimed.

You'd heard that all before. 'We will help you. You can trust us. We won't hurt you. We want to save you.' Look where that got you.

All the promises you naïvely believed were nothing but lies, an attempt to control you, not help you. They caused nothing but pain, who was to say this wasn't a repeat?

***

"There's something about her I don't understand," Wanda almost huffs when they leave the room you were in, somewhere private as Fury wanted to keep you as low profile as possible. The witch rounds the table and takes a seat in a confused manner, pulling the sleeves of her jumper down before sighing, "Her mind, it's just... It's just broken."

"What do you mean by that?" Natasha asks, taking a seat, her posture immaculate compared to the witch's, her arms leisurely resting on the table, head leaning against her palm as she stares at the redhead across the table. Fury remained silent as he contemplated something in his own mind, Natasha taking note of his pondering state.

"When I hear people's thoughts, it's like just hearing their voice," Wanda tried to explain, not sure how to properly explain how her powers work, "It's decipherable and it's clear," her fingers spin the rings littered on her fingers, sliding one of them up and down while she thinks a little more, "But her mind it's so blurred and messy. The only way I can think of putting it is like, everyone else's mind is like a radio. When it's on the right channel, it's clear and you can hear it, but her mind is constantly flicking through the channels and it's just static noise until you occasionally catch the right signal." Wanda looks up at the redhead, noticing her puzzled look and flushing a little with embarrassment. "Sorry, I haven't explained it well," her fingers instantly go to pull her jumper down at the cuffs once again, another nervous habit the assassin had picked up on, offering a soft smile.

"No, you explained it perfectly, I'm just thinking," the older woman's voice is gentle, a small smile creeping onto the witch's face as the room is left to simmer in silence, everyone's minds trying to piece you together.

"Maybe she's more like the winter soldier than we thought," Fury comments, directing that at Natasha who was there when he first referred to your similarities with the ex hydra soldier. "If she was brainwashed like him, she'd be the obedient soldier we've seen, but what if the brain washing went wrong or too far?"

"Her mind could become fragmented," Natasha pondered out loud, looking back at the witch, "When you could make sense of her mind, was it like there were multiple versions of her voice? Possibly other personalities?"

"It seemed the same voice," Wanda said a little unsure, "There was one part that seemed very aggressive though, when you said we wouldn't hurt them."

Natasha leaned back against the seat, crossing her legs under the desk while she continued to think, It was standard for someone with a history of abuse to have trust issues or defence mechanisms in place to avoid the same actions happening twice but there was the possibility of the brainwashing having caused further damage.

Could it be possible for the brainwashing to create an alter ego of yourself? A darker version of you?

The endless questions swiftly filtering through the Russian's mind was cut short when Fury decided they should leave it there for today, Wanda happily accepting the end of the meeting while Natasha hovered behind, knowing the man was up to something.

"What are you thinking?" she asks while standing, moving to lean against the table as the man just stares ahead out of the window, his seemingly favourite thing to do while contemplating.

"Nothing," he mutters out, the spy rolling her eyes at his words, crossing her arms over her chest while he turns to look at her, a small, barely visible smile on his lips. "Enjoy the rest of your day, Romanoff."

***

Subconsciously, Natasha's feet led her the long way around the compound back to her room after having dinner with the rest of the team, the redhead not being her usual sarcastic self as her mind was too preoccupied with everything that was going on. Her eyes flickered across the corridor she was in as was thinking, her thoughts pausing when she saw a nervous agent hovering by the entrance of the room with your cell in it, her brows furrowing as she didn't intend to come and see you again, her body having a mind of its own.

"Are you alright Agent?" she asks and the man's posture immediately straightens at the sound of her voice, his face flushing with embarrassment at not only seeing one of his superiors but the Black Widow.

"Yes Miss Black Wid- Romanoff," he corrects himself, his nerves radiating off of him as the tray in his hand trembles.

"Are you sure Agent?" There's a hint of teasing to her tone as she approaches the young man, his cheeks flushing even more in embarrassment as he can see the tray shaking in his grasp. "Is this for our new guest?" she asks and she remembers seeing the agent earlier, him being one of the new recruits making her ease off on her teasing remarks.

"Yes Miss Romanoff," he says, his eyes avoiding her as he stares at the plate of food on the tray.

"I'll take care of this, go and enjoy your first day Agent," her tone is soft and the man gratefully accepts her offer. To be fair, giving the noobie the job of feeding a highly dangerous prisoner may not have been the best move, Natasha noting to ask about who put him up to the task.

She takes a hold of the tray and the man quickly scurries off, a small chuckle escaping her before she makes her way to the doors, opening it and observing your figure.

You're still sitting on the floor, an impassive expression on your face as your gaze is glued to the glass, the spy assuming you were just zoned out. Only when she clears her throat, do you blink yourself out of your thoughts, turning your gaze to hers, brows furrowing momentarily before your stoic face returns. A small, subtle movement that Natahsa notices though is how your hand braces your body, as if ready to move back away from her as she nears the glass, an understanding expression taking over her face at your sense of fear.

"I hope you like peanut butter and jelly sandwiches," she says, a small smirk playing on her lips, her teasing comment attempting to ease the tension brewing in the room as you watch her. Her striking green catches yours and the look lingers as you simply stare at one another. Natasha tries to read you, get some sort of gauge on you but she can't focus on anything but the various shades within your eyes, the unnatural captivating power of them as she loses herself within them.

You, on the other hand, are confused by the feeling her eyes stir within you, the emerald green creating a warmth bubble inside your stomach as she offers a small smile. You are so confused by everything going on around you, but for some reason all the racing thoughts seem to dimmer when she's here, the stoic expression fading from your face as you watch her come ever closer to the cell.

Her hand wraps around the handle of a small compartment, the light on your side flashing red as she opens her side, placing the tray in delicately before closing it, your light now flashing green. You don't move from your seat, expecting this to be some sort of trick, the habits from Hydra still persisting in your mind as you look away from her, expecting something cruel to happen soon.

"I meant what I said earlier," her tone is quiet, gentle, while she steps away from the small compartment, her head tilting a little in curiosity to your reaction as she knew you must have been extremely hungry. "We won't hurt you, that's not what we want to do," your eyes flicker back up, your body desperate for the food and overriding any of the warning thoughts in your mind, slowly and cautiously approaching the glass box filled with the food. You fixate your gaze on the food, your mouth practically watering at the idea of something other than the slop Hydra fed you, unaware of the small smile sent your way as you carefully opened your side and gratefully took the tray. "We can help you, you just have to trust us," your grip tightens on the plastic at her words, Natasha noticing the muscles in your arm flexing as you tense, gaze snapping up to her with a dark expression flashing in your eyes, immediately fading back to the stoic before turning around and walking back to where you were sat, taking the exact same position on the floor from earlier.

Trust them?

We can't trust anyone.

You know where that got us last time.

"Just think about it," she says, unsure of what else to say as you focus on eating, eyes almost closing in pleasure as actual flavours meet your tongue, "Please." You pause at the different tone to her voice, looking back up to her and trying to decipher it but failing as she starts to leave the room, her figure freezing at your actions.

"Thank you," your voice is barely audible as you show your appreciation to the redhead, for the food and the offer, her head turning to the side so you could see the small smile playing on her lips before exiting through the doors, leaving you all alone once again.

[fun-k-board]

Hey again 😄😄😄

Thank you so so much for the smoke headcanon I really enjoyed it, I was wondering if you could do it again but this time with reptile please ??

Syzoth / Reptile Friendship / General Headcanons

Note(s) : You're a regular human and not a champion, it's implied you're friends with the human kharacters and meet Reptile through them.

Reptile is extremely anxious around you at first because you're not a champion, you're just an Earthrealmer with no fighting skills or prior knowledge on Outworld, and he finds himself a little confused on your presence most of the time.

As such, he finds himself explaining to you a lot of things that he would believe are just common sense. He doesn't get annoyed though, because he realises his constant questions on regular human ideas must be strange too.

He's still a Zatteran despite his ability to shapeshift into a human form, and so, any human social cues you've mastered will probably be strange to him, and vice versa.

Syzoth will typically eat bugs like cockroaches, spiders, flies, and forgets that some human cultures don't have that normalised, but he's extremely overjoyed when he finds out that certain places consider bugs a delicacy. He basically begs you to take him to those places.

If Johnny invites you to be in a movie, whether acting or stage hand, Syzoth, and by extension a large chunk of the Kast, will a million percent also be there after being coincidentally, also invited by Johnny! He's interested in Earth culture, and after watching Predator, which scared the daylights out of him, he wants to know the process behind movies.

Hundred percent asks to see movies with you, apart from horrors, never show him a horror movie, he will not be able to sleep for weeks.

Movie nights are incredibly common, a lot of other non Earthrealmers join in as well! It becomes very cramped very fast in your house, let's hope Johnny is nice enough to lend you all his mansion for the night.

He's a big fan of superhero media, there's always an invisible person, although he finds the fact a lot of them have to strip incredibly strange, or some type of half human half animal hybrid, he feels at home a lot of the time watching those types of superheros.

He can't stomach human food, so if he ever stays at yours for a sleepover or just to hang out for a day, he'll be an exterminator for you and eat any bugs he can find as his lunch / dinner. It's very helpful during summer.

Speaking of summer, he always wears his usual attire even in unbearable heat, he's uncomfortable with his human form and he feels awkward to show more of it. Besides, he likes to keep warm because he gets cold too easily, and when he's cold he gets slower which is impractical and annoying.

After the death of his wife and children, he's been looking for a distraction, he needs some form of comfort and he feels talking to you and his other friends is a huge help. Especially if you've experienced a close loss before, even if you don't know ways to help cope, you can always find ways to help each other heal together.

He tries to ask you for dating advice with Ashra, this most likely goes over well no matter how horrible your advice is, because Ashra and Syzoth are the best couple and are so wholesome nothing could offend either.

Syzoth is always awkward around dinners, whenever he's invited to Madam Bo's by one of the Kast of you, he sort of just sits around and tries to talk instead of eat. Reptiles learned after a while that it's impolite to humans when you just eat bugs out of the air, which he doesn't understand, and so refrains from eating at most public dinners.

He really wants to bring you to Zattera, but he knows far too well that they don't take kindly to warm blood, and while he understands his people's reason, he's still disappointed.

Luckily! He can visit your home in Earthrealm.

He does unfortunately get a lot of stares when he visits your home, your family and even strangers on the street always assume he's a cosplayer.

After he gets roles for a few of Johnny's movies, he becomes a micro celebrity of some sorts, including you if you decide to star in them. People recognise him on the streets and he gets rather embarrassed, but also very appreciated, he feels a lot of love around fans.

Apart from the weird ones... He tries to tell people that he's taken, with a wonderful girlfriend who'd he'd never betray, but... He needs you to chase them off a lot.

I imagine at first, your family and friends might think he's really weird, like, not even 'wow that was strange' weird, but 'never invite this man to be close to my vicinity again' type weird.

He's always looking around suspiciously, eyes wide, sweaty, sometimes he looks like he's going to speak but then holds a hand over his mouth, always when there's a fly near...

But, it only takes a day of knowing him for them to switch up and genuinely adore him.

They invite him around all the time, he's sweating buckets and terrified of messing up, but they're so taken aback by how goddamn sweet this guy is they don't notice.

Once again, you become his saviour and help him whenever they get too talkative about where he's from. They don't know about Outworld, and Liu Kang would prefer it if you didn't spill to everybody.

He finds human fashion a bit strange, but he actually really likes hoodies, especially the ones with short sleeves, they feel comfortable and he can move around a lot without it being a hassle of detangling and annoyance. He also likes wearing fingerless gloves everywhere.

Introducing him to Earthrealm music is... Interesting, to say the least. He really enjoys a lot of them! Especially classical, they're closer to what he knows from Outworld, but, he's also surprised at how much he likes a lot of modern music.

I'm spreading my Britney Spears fan Syzoth agenda and you can't stop me.

[shadesoflsk]

OLDER LEON HEADCANONS

pairing: older!Leon x gn!reader.

warnings:  age gap implied, fluff, no explicit nsfw, basically Leon being an old man.

After retiring, you thought Leon would use his free time to sleep more. After all, he has served the country for more than twenty years. But you always find yourself on an empty bed with no signs of your partner being in the room.

Leon religiously wakes up at 6 o’clock. No matter if it is a rainy Sunday morning. He says he wants to see the news, but he falls asleep pathetically fast as soon as he hits the couch. Sometimes, holding a mug that has been replaced several times. Old man can’t understand that if he falls asleep, all of his body does too. No… you’re not the one who is spilling coffee all over the rug. Why the hell would you do that?

Talking about mugs, he has an obsession with them. Since most of his own “magically” break, he has a whole ass collection. “Best dad ever,” says one. He has no child but he thinks it’s funny as hell. It isn’t, you tell him. “You don’t get me”, he responds back with a roll of his eyes and a grunt as he sits down.

You may have lied about something. You’re guilty for breaking one of his beloved mugs. However, it wasn't your fault. You were in charge of doing the dishes that day, Leon was comfortably laying on the couch, playing candy crush at full volume. He wasn’t deaf… not at all yet it seems that hearing “tasty” every time he swipes on a candy is fucking hilarious. What your poor heart didn’t expect was Leon sneezing so hard that God may have heard him. Your heart dropped, and so did his beloved mug. Shattering in pieces as soon as it hit the floor. 

He doesn't mind your youthful behavior. The generational differences didn’t seem so big when you two were in love. You love going out, drinking and dancing. He does too, he swears. But for him, nothing is better than a little trip to the supermarket. 

He loves comparing prices. Why the hell has the jar of pickles’ price risen? “No babe you don’t understand, it shouldn't be so expensive.” He tries reasoning with you with no avail since you get the damn jar and place it in the basket. That same jar of pickles would be the cause of one embarrassing moment with Leon.

Leon takes pride in his humor. He’s funny, he’s hilarious, and he deserves a spot on stand-up comedy night. Or at least he thinks so. You were at the cashier as the employee did his job. His actions, though, were interrupted when the code from the product couldn’t be scanned. “Please Lord… don’t make him say it.” You think to yourself as Leon watches the scene developing. Time seems to slow down as you see his lips moving. “Must be free then.” He laughs as if it was the funniest thing he ever said. 

Leon was a provider, economically and intimately speaking. He loves surprising you, especially when you are busy with something else. Are you doing laundry? No, that can’t be. You were unexpectedly attacked with wet kisses on your neck, his breath caressing you from behind as he whispered sweet nothings against your ear. Years made him a needy man but God he loves your scent. As his hands were holding your waist, you decided to turn around and kiss him better. When you did, your eyes traveled from his blue orbs, to his lips, to the moles adorning his neck and throat, to his broad chest, to his waist, to his… Why the hell is he wearing crocs with socks? You didn’t expect to be turned off almost immediately. 

You often find yourself looking for Leon in your apartment. Sometimes you would find him watching TV or playing with you guys’ dog. “Have you seen your dad?” You pet the golden retriever on its back. It obviously doesn’t respond back, but by the way its eyes are glued to the door that leads to the garden, you assume Leon has to be there. 

Eventually, you found him there. You have to hold back a giggle as you observe him with the classical dad stance. Hands glued to his hips as he watches the sky. “Is God trying to send you a message?” You lean against the door frame with a teasing look on your face. “No, but I know for a fact that it’s going to rain.” Leon quietly replied as his eyes remained focused on the now cloudy sky.

Texting Leon was… something else. Don’t misunderstand him, he worships the ground you walk on but texting him was like talking to a wall. You could be in a life or death situation and Leon’s answer would be a thumbs up. Or when he’s finally typing something? It’s all in caps.

“DARLING I'M AT THE STORE DO YOU NEED ANYTHING?” Why is he yelling? What point is he trying to make?

“OK BABE CALL ME IF ANYTHING HAPPENS.” He continues yelling.

“LOVE YOU.”

“😃👍” Those emojis…

He has a buddy. He has many buddies. He loves helping, or rather he loves watching someone else struggling. Not in a bad way, really. His life as an agent made him dependent on the feeling of being useful. One day, someone’s car broke down right in front of your home. He took this opportunity to be the good citizen that he is. “My buddy Chris would surely know what to do…” Leon mumbles after thirty minutes of trying to help this poor man with his car. 

Overall, you love this old man of yours. He’s the sweetest partner you’ve ever had. You can always lean on him whenever you need someone to take care of all of your problems. He loves you and definitely loves showing you off as the romantic partner he is. Dates are a must every weekend, dressing all pretty and fancy to eat some dinner at a place which name you don’t remember. However… you could never escape his dad’s jokes.

“What’s the damage?” he asks the waiter as he pulls out his wallet. God you love him.

[spitdrunken]

response to this ask: ABSOLUTELY NOT TOO MUCH!!! This ask has brought me infinite joy and I have reread it a LOT. (Also dw, I will always assume Reader is an adult through asks!! But I get why you’d wanna say that with a term such as grooming, haha) also this got REALLY LONG… HELP.

Notes: pseudocest, obsessive behaviour, codependency, unequal power dynamics, implied minor character death, infantilization… general creepiness. Perhaps this veers away from my original post a little, but I love the idea that you’re someone entirely new to Hell. You’re fresh off the boat, so to speak, entirely unfamiliar with the way things work around here— Except that everything’s fucking terrifying, and you want out! Right now. Please. You see an ad on a random TV in a store’s display, one featuring a hotel that promises ‘sinners’ (which is what you are now, apparently, even your own body now being a new and confusing factor of your existence) a possible way to ascend up to Heaven. Now new and refurbished, after the last successfully averted extermination! Whatever that means. With nowhere else to turn to, no other leads or possibilities except sleeping out on the blood-soaked streets, of course you go! Who wouldn’t? You’d be stupid not to go! …Unless this is all a big scam In which case, you can only hope that you can’t die more than once.

Maybe you arrive, and this grand, beautiful hotel, is, well… Deserted. It’s beautiful on the outside, sure, but where are any of the staff? Or the people staying there, for that matter? You’re so uncomfortable out it all, that you nearly turn tail and run back from whence you came. You would have, if where you came from wasn’t ten times worse.

You walk up to the front desk, and, before you can change your mind, ring the little bell placed on the desk. Someone appears in a flash of golden light, and you have to squint your eyes to avoid being blinded. It disappears as quickly as it came, and a man… Demon, actually, appears in its place. (You catch a quick glance of something bright yellow being quickly stuffed into his pocket, but you have no idea what it is.) His form is noticeably more humanoid than the others you’ve seen out and about. Yes, his skin is an inhuman tone, and his cheeks take apple-red to a whole new level, but he doesn’t appear monstrous. That doesn’t make him exactly inviting, however. His face is set in a neutral expression, and he openly looks you up and down, pupils narrowed into slits. You scratch at the side of your neck, only to immediately flinch. You aren’t quite used to how sharp your nails are nowadays. “Um, hello! I— Sorry to bother you, sir,” you break the silence. “I might be wrong, but is this the Hazbin Hotel…? I saw the advertisement that was put out, and I was interested. Would you happen to be the owner?”

His neutral expression fades, and a small smile takes it place, eyelids sliding half-closed. “Oh no, no— Old me isn’t the boss of this place. That would be my daughter! I’m sure you would have heard of us.” He leans on his staff, both of his hands cupped around the apple on top. His eyes roam around your expression as if searching for something. “You’re pretty new here, I’m guessing?” “…Mhm. It’s that obvious, huh?” You don’t know how he was able to tell so quickly, but you laugh in a way that can only be heard as self deprecating. You shift your weight from one foot to the other, and avert your eyes.

“It’s kind of hard to tell how much time has passed, but— Not a lot. Honestly, I have no idea what’s going on. One moment, I was alive, and the next I was here, with this weird body, surrounded by terrifying people, and I don’t know—“ Your voice cracks under the weight of the reality of your situation. An eternity in Hell. “God, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… Yeah. It’s just been a lot.” “I see. Yes, this realm isn’t particularly kind, least of all to newcomers. I can’t imagine what you’ve seen.” He says, quieter now. You dare a glance at his face. Something in his features has softened at your words, his slit pupils and smile wider in size. When he sees you looking, he extends a hand. You take it, and he gives you multiple firm shakes, before pulling you into a quick hug that has your knees buckle a bit and crushes the air out of your lungs. For a little guy, he really is surprisingly strong. When he lets you go, he’s still got a hand holding yours, leading you to one of the couches in the lobby, and promptly plopping down, pulling you with him. “But things are already on the rise for you from here on out!” He says, all boisterous and smiles, revealing rows of sharp teeth. “You’re new here, and already hit the jackpot! Lucifer’s the name!" And you can only imagine what kind of expression flashes over your face, because he nods rapidly and winks at you. “—Yes, that one, glad that, at least, rings a bell. And staying here places you under my family’s protection." His gaze drifts over the lobby. "My daughter and her friends are out doing trust exercises somewhere right now, but I’m certain she’ll be happy to welcome once she returns. She’s a real sweetheart, let me tell you! She didn’t get that from me, I can tell you that!” He laughs, but it quickly tapers off into a sigh. You wish you could laugh along. You have to admit you’re more than just a bit frozen up, questioning all of the decisions in your life and death that lead up to this moment. Sitting on a couch in a hotel lobby with Satan himself… Maybe you could die again, after all, and you were about to experience it. You probably have committed like fifty gross breaches of etiquette already, and, and— There’s a little rubber duck sitting on your lap.

It immediately snaps you out of your stupor, with how sudden and unexpected it is. The duck is bright yellow with chubby orange cheeks, and wearing a little black top hat. You can’t help cracking up a bit, taking it into your hand. …Maybe this guy is as silly as his outfit would suggest. Was calling himself Lucifer his idea of a joke? Things might be alright after all. “Ah..." You smile. "He’s so cute!” You relax, letting your back hit the sofa you’re sitting on. “Like a little gentleman!” This is the only adorable thing you’ve seen ever since arriving in Hell, and no one should blame you for getting a bit excited. Your days have been nothing but utter misery, after all. “You think so? I mean—“ He laughs, short and sudden. “Of course you do! Just look at the little guy! Who couldn’t love him? You can keep him, I can make another one lickety-split!” “Oh! Um, thank you! Does he have a name?” You’re full-on smiling now, and turning to look at ‘Lucifer’. At a shake of his head, you hum in thought. “A fancy guy deserves a fancy name… What about Reginald?” You turn the little toy around, inspecting it from all sides. “You’ve seen nothing yet! Just give it a little squeeze, not too much.” You do as he says. Through the little hole in its beak, a white droplet emerges. “It’s glue! He used to help me with my crafting projects. But, well, he’s yours now. Off to greener pastures, as they say.” You can’t help yourself. The whole situation is really not all that funny, but you crack up, and once you start laughing, you can’t stop. Your chest hurts, and tears are burning at the corners of your eyes. You have no idea why! Everything’s been such a mess lately. After a couple of seconds, you babble out some nonsense. “I gave— I gave Reginald such a posh name! But… Y’know, he’s a working man!” You say, still cracking up in between the words. At this, it’s Lucifer who laughs, a sound loud and sudden enough to ring in your ears. Seems you hadn’t heard a real laugh out of him before after all.

In other words, Lucifer (who you end up finding out really is the Devil himself) quickly grows fond of you, and takes you under his wings. Perhaps it’s your innocence about Hell and it’s mechanisms that pulls him towards you, combined with the fact that you’re just kind of easy to fuss over. You’re none the wiser that Lucifer was all but hopeless about sinners before helping restart the hotel, and entirely unaware that your dynamic is anything but normal. In your mind, Lucifer must befriend people rather frequently! While you’re quickly taken in by Hazbin Hotel’s other friends and staff, it really is Lucifer who helps you through your adjustment period. He makes you little covers for your claws, so you can get used to having sharp appendages, and not accidentally keep clawing open furniture or your own flesh. He requests Nifty makes some food that is at least visually similar to some Earth meal. When you wake up in the morning, there’s always a little duck sitting in front of your hotel door, making you start your day with a smile. You’ve got a shelf full of them now, and love all of them. (And when you’re curled up in your bed, late at night, crying over all that you’ve lost, smothering your sobs with a pillow, there is a gentle knock on your door. Lucifer sits on the side of your bed, wearing striped pajamas in red and white, and encourages you to pour your heart out to him.

There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. Everything you’re feeling, everything you’re going through— He’s heard and seen it all before. In fact, he’s sure he’s heard much, much worse. Has he ever done you wrong? No, he hasn’t. So, talk to him. He tells you, dabbing at your face with a white handkerchief decorated with apples stitched onto it. And you do.)

Lucifer looks after you. Sure, he’s not perfect. But no one is, right? Lucifer often seems to lose track of the conversation you’re having with him, distracted by the things around him and suddenly veering off into entirely different territory. In general, his memory is spotty at best, but you’re not surprised that an immortal being such as himself wouldn’t remember every single little thing you say.

He’ll hole himself up in his workshop for days at a time, only to emerge with nothing to show for it, except for a downtrodden expression. He’ll fight with Alastor (and continuously remind you to stay far away from that piece of shit), and get fussy whenever you try to leave the hotel without him glued to your side. Though his memory seems to often be unreliable, and you believe that a lot of simple conversations you have with him are simply left forgotten, there are instances you would consider insignificant that remain fresh in his mind.

“You’re doing it again,” you tell Lucifer. He’s pacing up and down the length of his room, ranting about Alastor. He blinks, and halts his movements, tapping his staff on the floor. “Doing what?” “The thing,” you emphasize, before standing up and walking towards him, dragging the top of your finger across his bottom lip. You can feel him take a quick inhale as soon as you make contact. A golden smear is left across your skin. “You’re always chewing on your bottom lip when you get upset. Doesn’t it hurt? I know it heals within, like, ten seconds, but still!” Absentmindedly, you look at his blood. It’s a weird thought to have, but it’s strangely… Beautiful. You look back up at him, and your brow furrows. “Hey… Were your red spots always that big? I think I’m seeing things.”

But things get better, and he improves. He starts to try and take little notes of the things you’ve told him, alongside the words of other people important to him, like Charlie, like a diary of sorts. The door to his workplace starts being left unlocked, and you’ll wander in, from time to time. You’ll sit on the chair in the corner of the room, reading or otherwise occupying yourself, and telling him that no, that duck or toy is not the worst thing you’ve ever seen, and doesn’t deserve to be burnt to a crisp.

You listen as he, on bad days, talks about his wife with a forlorn expression on his face. Things get better, though. He tries not to see the worst in sinners any longer, and his moods grow better. He spends more time with Charlie. All is well. You don’t realize just how entangled your existences are until you’re in too deep. That your eyes search for him every time you enter a new room, that you’ve grown comfortable with him doing the talking for you. You try to convince yourself it’s not a bad thing, but the simple truth is that you’ve lost a chunk of your independence. And when you try to go out with the other residents, it’s so easy for him to coax you back out of it.

Are you really sure you want to go? Look, I’m not trying to keep you here— I’m really not! But Hell’s a dangerous place out there, and I can assure you there’ll be things there that you really don’t want to see. …I’ve been working on a little display case for your favourite ducks, I can show you that instead.

He only grows more protective when time goes on, and you do more exercises with the rest of the hotel, bond with the other residents. At times, he tries to convince you to forgo their shared activities entirely.

(You try to forget about what you found in a drawer of his desk, one day. A note among so many other reminders that he is known to keep. But this one is wrinkled, pen pressed so hard to the paper that it’s torn in places. All of them want to go to Heaven, all of them want to leave here. Me. I get it. Because she has left, no one can be guaranteed to stay. But I won’t let the apple of my eye be taken, even if they send down an envoy and try to escort them up themselves. …But it’s hard not to remember.) When he gives you your a warning about the ‘scary outside world’ for the umpteenth time, you can’t help but roll your eyes and counter. Alright, dad. Nothing about your tone shows sincerity. You mean it as a joke or a jab, but Lucifer doesn’t laugh. Instead, he hums out a pleased little noise, a smile settling on his face.

The way he looks at you is so utterly tender, all half-lidded eyes and pupils blown wide, that it leaves you reeling. He nestles himself at your side, under the comfort of your arm, and promises to take care of you for the rest of your eternal life spent there. You have an eternity. It’s sweet, and knocks the breath out of you.

But you would’ve been able to reconcile the image of Lucifer and ‘father figure’ more easily if he, sometimes, didn’t act so contrary to such an image. He’ll call for you from behind his workdesk as you’re sitting on your usual chest, ready to show you a ventriloquist doll he’s been working on.

As you stand next to him, an arm is wrapped around your waist, and he pulls you on his lap. It’s in no way comfortable for him. He has to stick his head underneath one of your arms to see anything at all. It would be silly otherwise, but the way he pulls you flush against him, face nuzzled into your side as he audibly inhales, one clawed hand resting on your thigh… You can’t help but have it muddle your feelings towards him. He frequently kisses your hand as a greeting, and insists you let him kiss both of your cheeks before parting. You would write it off as one of his unique quirks if he did the same thing for Charlie, but he doesn’t.

Lucifer, with an eternity of time to hone his skills behind him, has picked up all kinds of crafts, including sewing. He’ll make pieces of clothing for you in his colour scheme, sew apple-themed patches on your clothing, among other things. It’s always embarrassing when he makes something. He fusses and cooes over you like you’re a child when you first wear any piece, clapping his hands and grinning. Oh, just look at you! Aren’t you the cutest little thing? It looks lovely on you!

Anyone with more than two braincells can tell something is going on between the two of you, though no one is quite sure exactly what. Perhaps Angel is rubbed the wrong way by just how overbearing Lucifer is being, and considers you to just get out there for once with the rest of them. You’re always cooped up inside the hotel! Come on, he’s been around the block more times than he count, and he knows every trick in the book. You’ll be fine as long as you stick with him. And… You have fun! Going out, dancing and drinking, accompanied by your friends, is wonderful. But maybe you drink a little bit too much, yet entirely unfamiliar with the different types of names alcoholic beverages in Hell have. How were you supposed to know you accidentally ordered one of the strongest drinks on the menu? And, in the crowd of people, you lose the rest, wandering outside without really noticing it. You’re such an obvious target, staggering on the sidewalk, giggling and mumbling to yourself, that you wouldn’t entirely blame anyone for the poor argument that ‘you were asking for it’ in a place like this. Your world is left spinning as you’re pushed against a wall, vision momentarily blacking out as your skull bashes against brick. (Somewhere in the club, Angel is looking for you, getting more frantic by the moment.)

You never get the chance to figure out exactly what the demon’s intentions are. As soon as their fingers brush over a patch Lucifer had sewn into your clothing, an apple with a little snake head popping out, they’re blasted back by golden light.

Your addled mind is still struggling to keep up when you’re wrapped in a set of soft, beautiful wings. The back of your head is cradled by gloved hands. You catch a glimpse of blood-red eyes set within a familiar face, but, soon, a cluster of feathers covers your eyes. There are horrible cracking noises, gurgling, wheezing— Though you see none of it, your imagination more than makes up for it. You press your face up against his chest, nauseous and shaking like a leaf. Lucifer takes off without a word, the flapping of his multiple sets of wings loud enough to awaken an oncoming headache. Mid-flight, when his features have returned to the ones you know him for, he peppers your face with kisses, and makes you look at him. You mumble out apologies, sniffling, drunk and shaken, but Lucifer shushes you.

What were you doing all the way out there, on your own? You’re usually such a good listener, my dove. You always listen to all of my warnings. A gloved finger traces your cheek. Someone convinced you to go out, didn’t they? That has to be it. You can tell your dad who it is. I won't be mad at you. You’ve never been afraid of Lucifer before. Now, though, you’re filled with apprehension. You frantically shake your head. Oh, then it was your own idea? The tip of one of his nails pokes your cheek. Not nearly hard enough to hurt, but the pressure is there.

…And you really do deserve to be in Hell, because prompted with this question, you take the selfish way out, and once again shake your head. More slowly, this time. See? It wasn’t that hard to be truthful, was it? I knew it wouldn’t be your fault. Now, all you have to do is tell me who it was.

That night, you spend the night in his bed, with Lucifer arguing that you’re very drunk. Which is very much. It’d be horrible for you to go ahead and choke on your vomit, or something like that! So, you should just stay with him. As you're drifting on the verge between conscious and unconscious, his lips find the skin of your throat, placing kisses up and down. Open-mouthed and warm, barely restrained.

You wake up the next morning with a splitting headache and only vague memories of the day prior. But you wake up with Lucifer’s arms wrapped around you, his face hidden in the crook of your neck, each of his breaths tickling your skin. You wake up to one of his legs slotted in between yours. You wake up to the realization that you’ve bitten off far, far more than you can chew.

[pupyr0arz]

thinking about obsessive Gaz still…him being a bit of a weird bff. Male reader.

It’s not a shrine. Shrines are childish, weird things built by freaks who obsess over people, complete creeps who probably have bones in their closets and lick printouts. It’s….a refuse drawer, that happens to have acquired a theme. Not even a collection, that would imply Kyle was being deliberate, which he isn’t. He’s only keeping your things so he can return them, but he can’t exactly show up at your house with just a toothbrush now, can he? It’s only polite, and he’s sure when he finally has enough knicknacks you’ll smile and pat Kyle on the cheek like you always do when you’re pleased and somehow manage to get away with it without being condescending. Maybe even knock your heads together, like you do when you’re sleepy and staying over for a movie, giving him long molasses moments with his nose to yours. He isn’t some weirdo following some girl around and stealing her panties. Kyle hasn’t touched a pair of your boxers, though he hasn’t been able to get you to stay more than one night. He thumbs over Ghost’s contact in his phone and thinks about crime statistics a normal amount.

He doesn’t have a drawer for Johnny or his other guy friends because they’re assholes, that’s all. You’re just his nice friend, the one who smiles and genuinely talks about your life and encourages him to be soft and sweet and buttery instead of raucous and harsh. Kyle wants to smooth his rough edges in your presence, wants to charm you and see things how you do, he wants his ladykiller smile to soften to something genuine. That involves picking up the things you leave behind with a pure kind and full intentions to return them, not in some creepy, awful manner that would make you call him gross and shut the door in his face.

Kyle is a considerate friend to you, dutiful and generous. When you’re hurrying out of the door, one foot in a hangover, he passes you the closest jacket. It’s his, by sheer coincidence, his rack is solely his own clothes, and yours had gone missing from atop the couch mysteriously during the night. Kyle doesn’t mention folding it and tucking it away, it’s his right to have a clean home and he’s a good host tidying up after his guest. He pretends to find it a half hour after you’ve left, ensuring the temptation to use it as an excuse to catch up to you or drop by and steal an extra conversation. Sometimes he struggles with long term rewards over the short term, and you’re no help. It’s the lottery ticket in your pocket, he’s discussing to himself, what else could he be speaking about? He considers laundry for half a second, holding the jacket tightly in his hands. It smells like you more than the deodorant does, deeper, and Kyle decides he shouldn’t make assumptions about your clothes. What if it’s dry clean only, or he uses the wrong temperature setting and ruins it? It’d be rude to assume your nondescript hoodie isn’t anything special to you. He picks up the glasses both of you had used and if he forgets to wash yours before he takes a sip, he’s a bachelor living alone and can blame it on habit.

Kyle likes inviting you over more than he likes going over to yours. Your apartment isn’t far, and it isn’t ugly or overly cramped, and you are never anything but an angel to him there, but Kyle needs sleep and he finds himself face down on your couch, staring into the black all night. Or wandering home, restless and chewing his fingers bloody for hours afterwards. He’s so antsy in a room filled with nothing but you and your things. He catches his fingers in a door once out of impulse, trying desperately to shove away the urge to pick up a little statuette from some sudden uncontrollable kleptomaniac urge, and you notice and fuss and soothe and suddenly he has the desperate urge to smash something and take it to his skin and he wonders if you would stitch it together and kiss it afterwards. Kyle keeps the bandage. He sits on the couch and stares through the tv and thinks about it and he can’t bring himself to look at you because if he does, that unnamed, unknowable buzzing under his skin promises something and he’s too scared of himself to find out.

In his apartment it’s better. Kyle can cling to himself, a better man, a good man, when it’s soft and more controlled. You’re comfortable among his things and he doesn’t feel the drive to take the place around him apart. It feels like someone has taken a hot knife to him when you leave, which is fine. He counts the days before it’s too needy and strange to ask again. When he gives you back the hoodie, it smells like the two of you and he fibs about finding it under the couch while cleaning. Kyle digs his nails into his arm under the coffee table when you ask about his day and he wonders wildly if you knew about it. He wants to show you the marks on his arm, prick tears into his eyes and have you soothe him, but Kyle knows better than that. He doesn’t have a response to your inevitable questions. It’s not weird for him to want to seek the affection either. He’s like everybody else in this, starved for attention and cradling the source of it. He’s just smart enough to not grip too tightly and bruise you.

[noirscript]

dropped call.

Yandere Hotline: 2/?

featuring: nonchalant darling, implied kidnapping | src

note: i've added this series to my ko-fi commissions! Will try to post another one later. For my birthday! Anywayssss enjoy!

It started with a drizzle, but ended with heavy rains and flooding. Some of your workmates tried to leave, but working in a company that values their clients and their employees, the guards prohibited everyone from leaving the establishment.

"It's for everyone's safety" they said, but they didn't mention anything about staying on your floor, still accepting calls from your frequent clients beyond your work hours.

You glanced at your left while waiting for another phone call to come. They were one of the newbies who were probably swayed by the expected salary and benefits from the job posting.

Their eyes were already teary and their lips was quivering as they listen to one of their clients. They probably didn't know how to handle the client's fantasy. Perhaps it was too much for them. You'll never know.

Because before the call even ended, they bolted towards the door—sobbing while wiping their tears away.

From your seat, you could hear the loud voice of a yelling man from her headphones. You shook your head before turning your attention back to your own monitor.

For some reason, there was something eerie with your line being available for almost half an hour.

It wouldn't be odd for some of your frequent callers to pester your phone with their shittiest and weirdest fantasies.

So, you decided to check your work email and internal chat. Perhaps something came up and ended disrupting your telephone line. But why is it yours alone though?

You glanced at the headphone dangling next to you. You assumed that it's no longer running, but you felt it vibrate. You turned to the screen and saw the 15-minute long phone call that's still ongoing.

As much as you want to end the call with the client, the company prohibits stealing a client of a workmate. It would disrupt the "connection" established by the previous agent.

You wanted to call the attention of your supervisor, but they always disappear just when you need them.

Running out of options, you decided to attach the jack of your headphones in her splitter.

"DO NOT IGNORE ME!"

"Hell—" You paused when you heard an all too familiar threat and voice. Beads of sweat started to form on your forehead. Of all clients, why is it him? And why is he calling another agent? That's against the rules!

"How dare you allow them to sit near you?" He asked, making your forehead crease. "Haven't you learn any lesson, huh? Why do you think nobody ever sit next to you?"

You kept your lips sealed while watching the time turned 12:00 PM. You are suppoed to leave on the dot. But you can't simply leave him hanging. He's been on the line for almost an hour at that point.

"Yulian—" you sighed, trying to keep the storyline going. "They didn't do anything wrong. They're my friends, of course I gotta help them!"

"Tch. Have I been too lenient on you?" He sighed, or perhaps puffed a smoke. The sound a tin can hitting a hard surface echoed. "I'm done."

Your eyes widened. You can't lose him! He's one of the only clients you have who's been far too generous towards you.

"S-Sir! Please!" A loud thunderclap echoed in your floor followed by the entire building being swallowed by darkness.

That's awful. You lost another client because of a goddamn power outage!

Or at least, you thought.

Because not even a week later, nobody could even remember that once there's an agent called Y/N L/N.

Incuding the administrators.

[thecosmicangel]

Everything that you believe in only works because you believe in it, you have given it the power to become real.

Religion , crystals , tarot, divination, affirmation, placebo effect or any tool, practice, method & set of beliefs only work & are true because you have given it the power to be so. Prayers are answered because you stood strong in your faith (believe/assumption)that it will be answered (you persisted in your faith). The power that they all have in common is the power you have given it. The power doesn’t come from the outside it comes from within. The power is in our subconscious mind.

YOU & ONLY YOU create your reality & destiny , you have the power to change your destiny at any moment because infinite realities/ parallel realities exist in the quantum field. The biggest illusion has been that power/god is outside of us when it has always been within each one of us. So please don’t ever stop believing in your power, and the capacity you have to have whatever you desire.

The same divine intelligence/ power that created you and me plus everything else also resides WITHIN YOU & by default you hold the same power. By believing in your godly power you believe in God, the all, divine intelligence whatever name you want to call it.

All religious texts, spiritual teachings, philosophers, esoteric & occult teachings are all saying/implying the same thing over and over again in different ways, we are reminded we hold the power, create our realities and are the gods of our reality. The message is there but only “the ones who have eyes to see and ears to hear” will receive the message. It is everywhere in movies, tv shows, religious scripture, spiritual teachings, and books.

Now I’ll give you a few examples of how it is written & spoken of everywhere. Followed by my interpretation of it.

Side note : The Bible is not meant to be taken literally, but to be understood at a metaphysical level.

Genesis means "origin, creation, generation". The book of Genesis is about creation and the birth of all things in existence.

"And God said, let their be light, and there was light" Genesis 1:3

God affirmed and it was so.

"So God created man in his own image, in the image of God created he him” -Genesis 1:27

We are God, we are a reflection of god , we hold the same power as God, God/Divine intelligence is In us all. We are all God experiencing itself through different ways.

Jesus says "The kingdom of God is within you" Luke 17:21

God can be found within you as it has always been within you. If we are made in the image of God then we don't need any other validation but our own self. Everything you want comes from you not outside of you.

Jesus says " Varily I say unto you, except ye be converted and become as little children ye shall not enter the kingdom of heaven" Matthew 18:3

In other words dare to dream & have a big imagination just as children have. Create & imagine whatever you desire, no dream is too big or impossible if you dare to dream it in imagination. Use your creative child like imagination to create your heaven on earth. Your imagination is the kingdom of heaven. Don’t ever lose your imagination. Don’t rely on logic or the 3D to create, if you can see it in your minds eye then it is very real & possible.

“Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you.”

“For everyone who asks receives; the one who seeks finds; and to the one who knocks, the door will be opened.”

Matthew 7-8

If you want it, decide & assume you have it and you will receive it. It is as simple as that.

“so is my word that goes out from my mouth:It will not return to me empty, but will accomplish what I desire and achieve the purpose for which I sent it.” - Isaiah 55:11

Everything that you assume will become manifest, you must not have any doubts that it will not be so, because it is already done. Know that everything you want is already yours, simply affirm it to be yours

“Thy Kingdom come. Thy will be done on earth, as it is in Heaven.” -Matthew 6:10

Similar to the saying “As within, so without, as above, so below.” Everything & everyone is a mirror/ reflection of your mind & what you assume to be true. The world is a mirror of your assumptions.

"Power resides where men believe it resides. It's a trick. A shadow on the wall. And a very small man can cast a very large shadow. " - Varys from Game of Thrones

There is 7 Hermitic Principles. The first principle is the principle of mentalism.

" The all is mind; the universe is mental"

In other words everything in existence, our outer world is all a mental construct. It is a hologram projected out based on subconscious programming. Everything we see is first created in our mind by programming of our subconscious & imagination. The world is a mirror of our assumptions. What we believe to be true is projected out into the outer world. If you want to see change in the 3D then you must first make the change within.

Now do you see how everything points back to YOU? How things are made possible by you & you only?! Do you understand the power of your mind?? Do you get that the 3D is a reflection of your inner mind (3D reflects the 4D). Do you understand that you are the only validation you need? Do you understand that imagination is real and not the 3D?? Do you understand that everything that exists and can possible exists is true and real? It all exists in some reality, there is infinite realities. Do you see how things have the power to be when you give it your awareness? Do you see how you are a reflection of God working & experiencing itself & creation through you= you are the operant power & god of your reality?!!!

xoxo, the cosmic angel ⭐️🪽

[jaladdin]

sorry i’m thinking about morgan le fay and her connection to morgie and what it implies in the descendants universe again. sorry. like we can assume he inherited all of morgan’s powers because that’s what happens in descendants. but there’s so much emphasis on his shapeshifting—his ability to mimic animal cries, the serpentine line in “life is sweeter,” and the way he gets the shitty cgi snake eyes. and i am Looking

it makes me 🤔 about morgan le fay, shapeshifter by jill m. hebert, which dives deep into both the literal and metaphorical aspects of morgan’s shapeshifting over time. herbert writes that "morgan’s power in part comes from the fact that she always retains agency, choosing among multiple forms at will. as a marker of reform, she can also influence others to change their shapes, and so she often appears at points where a change or expansion of the limits of identity is required."

and so what if i said morgie’s shapeshifting isn’t just a silly guy power; it’s tied to the movie’s entire theme of identity and transformation and agency. in descendants 4, there’s a ton of focus on characters pushing the boundaries of who they are—like cinderella transforming into the “mystery princess” at castlecoming or bridget becoming this literal and metaphorical monster. morgie’s shapeshifting could be his version of that—a way to expand his identity from just “villain kid” to something more. maybe something softer, or maybe just something less Turbo Connected to uliana, but. Something

but ok then there’s the other side where morgie’s so desperate to gain uliana’s validation, and the world of auradon: royals and villains really drives that home: "morgie desperately wanted uliana to like and respect him. he was quick to compliment her and would do whatever she said." and that makes me wonder is morgie’s shapeshifting really about his own agency, or is it more about molding himself into whatever uliana wants? he literally performs animal cries for her to warn her when merlin is coming at her command. so in that way i sniff out if maybe his shapeshifting is actually a metaphor for losing himself—becoming whatever uliana wants him to be and not who he really is. if he even really knows. especially agiven it's pretty clear that to morgie, uliana is a surrogate for morgana, and it's her approval he really wants.

hebert talks about how morgan’s shapeshifting lets her defy societal and gender based expectations, saying, "morgan shapeshifts both literally and metaphorically as she confounds traditional social and gender expectations; her power in arthurian literature is generated by that very agency." for morgan, it’s all about control and breaking free from the roles others try to box her in. but for morgie maybe it’s the opposite.

and then there’s the Fucking Scene They Cut at the end of descendants 4 where morgie gets his hands on the sorcerer’s cookbook. bc to me that implies that he would be able to open it, otherwise why would they make a big deal out of him having it at all??? and if he’s able to open it, it means he’s starting to tap into his potential both in terms of magic and figuring out who he really is (in that he has no evil motivation of his own when uliana is not around to please). 

morgana le fay, shapeshifter also says, "morgan’s ability to change shape signifies her potential to evade and to resist the shape(s) that others—authors, critics, and characters—attempt to impose upon her." maybe morgie’s shapeshifting will end up being more than just a way to survive or gain approval—maybe it’ll be his way of resisting the expectations placed on him, just like his mother did, and discovering a softer, more authentic identity in the process.

anywa morgie’s shapeshifting isn’t just some random power they put in for fun and sillies. or maybe it is and i’m insane. it probably is this is disney's descendants. i don’t care. To Me it’s about identity and agency. while he might have inherited his mother’s abilities, how he uses—or is used by—his shapeshifting could define who he becomes. will he be like morgan, using it to carve out his own identity, or will he get lost in the roles others (coughs at uliana) want him to play? the way ror was so transformation focused makes me think that morgie’s story is Also one that’s going to fit that mold of shapeshifting—both in terms of who he is on the outside and who he’s trying to be on the inside.

also literally bc if i dont get to see morgie as a snake ill lose it. one of these fucking things

arent they so silly.

[the-s1lly-corner]

Not too sure if you’ve done this but can you do TADC x Ghost!reader? Like they’re kinda just wearing a white sheet with black holes that resemble eyes, but there’s like nothing under the sheet so when it’s pulled off it looks like no one’s there

TADC cast x ghostsheet!reader !

Wasnt sure if I shouldve said ghostsheet or ghost... ghost implies like, traditional ghost but ghostsheet ties in the... sheet..

Still a lil sick and imma be blunt (not to you but in general.. actually I had ideas for nearly everyone for this idea!) I do be struggling with coming up with ideas for some characters for some requests <\3 I feel so bad when a characters part is dry or short 😭😭 I promise I'm invested in yalls ideas but some prompt/charafter combos do not give me many ideas <\3

CAINE:

Assuming this is romantic imagine he tries to lift up your sheet.. probably says something about "wanting a lil sneak peek of his darling" or maybe even making a joke that the sheet is a veil.. only to pause when theres visibly nothing there. His jaws probably hang open before he composes himself and tries to play off his shock with quick witted flirting. Of course this is all stemming off the idea that you forget to tell him/he has yet to see your sheet fall off so..!

POMNI:

Depending on how long your sheet is (mentally I'm seeing it at the ankle... oddly enough I can see the reader wearing these sneakers) she probably finds out you're... invisible... after accidentally stepping on the back of your sheet and pulling it off. Stops mid apology before just absolutely freaking out. Probably let's out a choked out scream thinking she just krilled you before you slap a hand over her mouth, so no one rushes in to see the commotion.. it's a little embarrassing for both sides...! You're basically nude..!!!/j

Or actually who knows, maybe the reader views it like that... I dont know the readers personality

RAGATHA:

Ooo okay so I think she would give you cute little pins and patches for you, so you can personalize your sheet more! Also ties in the hc that ragatha makes handmade stuff for her friends/partners!

A little thrown off guard when you go sheetless around her for the first time, but she quickly shrugs it off. Pro not the weirdest thing shes seen in the circus!

Offers to make you entirely new sheets, with patches and patterns and all that now that she knows it detachable

JAX:

Does the same thing as pomni except he would do it on purpose. Or maybe he yoinks your sheet and tries to make a run for it.... before stopping dead in his tracks when he turns around and you're seemingly not there. Of course assuming this is his first time snatching your sheet

Kind of just

Stands there

A little confused, really

Also assuming reader doesnt have shoes and just has their dogs out/j

Lets out a short Yelp when the sheet is suddenly torn out of his hand

I know you may be thinking that he would try to recruite you for his pranks but I wholeheartedly believe he would be terrified of you. Like all you have to do is take the sheet off and you can be hiding anywhere. For all he knows YOURE planning to do something to him, prank wise

Also likes having his pranks me a surprise

KINGER:

He sees your sheet abandoned on the ground and he thinks you melted, or perhaps you can "collapse" like gangle... huh, weird... goes to pick your sheet up, asking if you're alright. Before jumping st least 2 feet in the air when your voice answers his question... from behind him...

Oh reader please please dont do that ever again, his poor digital heart cant handle scares like that.. paranoia or not, I think kinger always hated jumpscares. Long before he entered the circus

Please apologize to him

ZOOBLE:

Now ZOOBLE would ask you to cause some mischief when they find out you're invisible under the sheet. Except, only target it to one person... jax. I mean think about it, zooble already doesnt seem to like him... and they're probably annoyed about the whole "stealing your arm to scratch my own back thing"... I mean I doubt it's the first time jax has messed with zooble, considering he did it so casually and how he treats the others... so if you're... down with a little haunting..

Similar to ragatha, I dont think theyd be all that phased. If anything they would think it's cool! I already hc that before getting stuck in the circus, zooble was into cryptids and the supernatural as well as general "disturbing" topics, so ghosts are right up their alley...... even if you're not really a ghost

GANGLE:

Thinks the sheet is cute! I was gonna say she finds out after accidentally tripping over your sheet and pulling it off, but... I actually.. dont know if gangle has heavy enough feet to do that

I mean she's ribbon

I think it would be revealed when you casually ask if you can.. "get comfortable" while in her room while you guys are drawing

Obviously, she says yes, because who wouldnt want someone to be comfortable... before literally dropping her comedy mask in shock when you literally. Take the sheet off

Of course this is assuming you dont view it as being nude, as opposed to pomnis segment but

Yeah

Tries not to make a big deal of it, last thing she wants is for you to feel bad... definitely takes her s minute to compose herself...

[apocalypticvalraven]

Delicious in Dungeon in The Kitchen

So... I was struck by the thought that I kinda wish some food nerd would go through the Dungeon Meshi dishes and analyze them and sort of give a "this is the real world thing they're making" run down.

And then I realized I'm a food nerd that can do research.

So.

We're gonna try this out, starting with Volume 1. I don't promise that I know everything about cooking. I don't promise I'll always be able to make the thing I'm looking at (I am broke, and I don't have my own kitchen). But I can at least look at a dish and figure out what they're doing and how to replicate it, at least sorta.

Dungeon Meshi Volume 1-- Huge Scorpion and Walking Mushroom Hot Pot

The two main components of this dish are the Huge Scorpion and Walking Mushroom.

Walking Mushroom

Looking at the images in the manga, Walking Mushroom seems to just... be a mushroom that can walk around. There are no organs, the interior seems pretty uniform in substance...

Like, literally, that's exactly what sliced mushrooms look like. Senshi cuts the mushroom into ~4" strips (judging by their size next to the small cabbage-like vegetable, and comparing those plants to his hand in the image of him gathering them. I am assuming dwarf hands are roughly the same size as human hands).

There's a variety of edible mushroom that is probably as close as we're going to get to the size of a Walking Mushroom, growing a cap up to 3' wide, but it seems to only grow in termite mounds in a very specific part of the African continent (please forgive my USAmerican, White education leading me to not being able to identify the specific region), so... if you can get that at all, it's probably crazy expensive (as it should be, unless you're literally getting it from the mounds or local markets yourself). Portobello or similar large culinary mushrooms are probably just fine. The Mushroom Feet are literally just mushrooms, so no worries there.

Huge Scorpion

Ok, so... there is a difference between arachnids and crustaceans. As a start, arachnids have book lungs and crustaceans have gills. Arachnid guts are different from crustacean guts, just because of environment. Hell, crustacean limbs grow differently from arachnid limbs.

That said, everything I see in Dungeon Meshi implies that, from a culinary standpoint, Huge Scorpion is a crustacean-

So, really, it's just a big lobster. Take a lobster, cut off its legs, antennae, and the tail fluke, and you're going to see something that looks pretty similar to the huge scorpion in Dungeon Meshi.

Seaweed

Next is seaweed, which... is just a thing, but also kind of an imprecise term, I think. Basically, "seaweed" just refers to any marine algae that is multicellular and macroscopic (big enough to see). Arctic Moss seems to be a real thing which refers to a couple things- the aquatic moss Calliergon giganteum and the terrestrial lichen in the genus of Cladonia, which includes Reindeer Lichen.

Reindeer lichen is edible, in a number of ways, but it's also not seaweed. So we look at Calliergon giganteum. I cannot get an answer as to whether this particular variety of moss is edible. So... fuck it, say Senshi used Reindeer Lichen, at least we know that's edible.

"Star Jelly" is... I don't know. The main result I find when googling it is that it's the sort of general term for various slimes that show up on lawns and other vegetation, etc. Which means it could be anything from amphibian spawning jelly to who the fuck knows what.

However, one thing it could be is a cyanobacteria known as Fat Choy, a commonly used "vegetable" in Chinese Cuisine:

Looks like jelly? Yep. Looks weird enough that you might imagine it comes from a star? Yep. Edible? Yes!

(I mean, maybe don't eat a ton of it, or get it from irreputable sources. At least some Fat Choy contains a toxic amino acid which may or may not have negative health effects, but I'm not a doctor, so all I'm saying is "be aware of this." It's an expensive delicacy, which means that it is a particularly lucrative target for counterfeiters, and China does not have strong, or strongly enforced, food safety laws).

The Hard Stuff

So that leaves "Invertatoes" and "Dried Slime."

Neither of which seem to have a good direct analogue to the real world. Well... sorta.

Invertatoes seems to refer to the plants. The name calls to mind potatoes, and potatoes do indeed grow in the ground and are starchy. It's probably fair to just use any kind of starchy tuber as the "invertatoes." Maybe cassava, since those are large enough that it's at least somewhat believable that "Fantasy Land Cassava" could look like that (although that doesn't fit the "these are normal plants that grow upside down" unless we're being really generous).

The problem is that it's sort of implied that the cabbage-like vegetable seen in the hot pot comes from the same plant, and everything from a potato plant other than the potato itself is toxic. They also don't look like that.

I literally don't know what those cabbage/lettuce-like leafy vegetables are. They're not seaweed, because the two varieties called out definitely don't look like that. They're not, so far as I can tell, the greens of any kind of starchy tuber--

EXCEPT.

So, I was taking one last look at tubers to see if I could find something that seemed to match, and I think Invertatoes could be likened to something similar to chicory. Particularly endives. I never knew endives were related to chicory (ie, "that thing that I'm aware is popular as a coffee substitute in the South, but I don't have much desire to try it, and I wonder if it even has caffeine..."), but, apparently, yeah. Endives are a member of the chicory genus.

So, yeah, lets say that Invertatoes are a sort of fantasy plant similar to the various members of the chicory genus. The trunk can be replicated with chicory root, and the leaves with endives.

That leaves Dried Slime. Dried Slime makes up the noodles in the hot pot, which implies that the noodles are gelatinous, and probably low in gluten. Senshi's explanation of the slime makes me want to think of it as a macro-unicellular lifeform, but... I'm not sure that's accurate.

While it's definitely not an accurate way to describe a jellyfish, I could definitely see a non-biologist describing jellyfish in a way similar to the way Senshi describes the slime. I could also see some fantasy terrestrial jellyfish thing hunting in a similar manner to the slime. Moreover, there are edible varieties of jellyfish, and they're processed in a manner very similar to what Senshi describes for processing slimes. And one way of preparing edible jellyfish is to thinly slice it into noodles.

Hot Pots

I... think this is using a very specifically Japanese sense of "hot pot" (which makes sense), because in Japan, hot pot can refer to a dish called nabemono, while in general, hot pot refers to a particular kind of dining in China where you get a pot full of boiling stock/broth and a bunch of raw ingredients, and you put the stuff you want into the broth at the table. Nabemono is more of "put a bunch of stuff in a pot, and cook it. Serve it boiling." Which is to say, it's soup.

Senshi puts the scorpion meat and mushroom into a pot on its own, and lets it start boiling-

Then, while it's boiling, he goes and finds other ingredients, coming back with the invertatoes and the slime. The two are prepared simply-

Seasoning isn't included in the ingredients, but I can understand this as a choice for presentation. We do see Senshi add something to the broth after tasting it, and I think it's fair to assume it's one of soy sauce, mirin, fish sauce, or similar. I think it's actually really interesting that we see Senshi add seasoning, but we're not told what it is-

Because... that's cooking. You can follow a recipe, but ultimately, you need to taste your cooking and make your own decisions. Senshi lets the soup cook, tastes the broth, decides it needs something, and gives it a bit of time to let the flavors meld before serving it up.

Dungeon Meshi Lobster and Mushroom Hot Pot

So, we're looking at something like this for the "Huge Scorpion and Walking Mushroom Hot Pot"--

Lobster- ~5 lbs or more (a 1 lb lobster yields about 4 oz of actual meat, which is a single serving), cut into large slices

Portobello- 2 mushrooms large diced, 2 left whole with the caps scored

Reindeer Lichen and Fat Choy- to taste

Chicory Roots- ~1 cup, diced

Endive greens- ~2 cups

Jellyfish, thin sliced- as much as you like

Add lobster and mushrooms to water, and allow to boil. While it comes to a boil, prepare the other ingredients, then add to the water. Let the soup come to a full boil, then reduce heat and simmer for 15 minutes to an hour (can simmer longer, but this will affect the texture of the ingredients. Longer simmering will result in more melding of flavors, but also degraded solid parts).

Taste the broth. It will likely need salt and acid, which could come in a variety of forms, such as kosher salt and lemon juice, soy sauce and mirin/rice vinegar, oyster/fish sauce, or something else. Go with your gut and your taste buds..

[javiersprincess]

𝐃𝐀𝐌𝐍 𝐇𝚬 𝐆𝚶𝐓 𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐘…

…𝐓𝐀𝐊𝚬 𝐇𝚬𝐑 𝐅𝐑𝚶𝐌 𝐇𝐈𝐌 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐋𝚬𝐀𝐕𝚬 𝐇𝐈𝐌 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐍𝚶𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆.

author’s note: set in the yandere blade universe! part of a more significant piece in mind willing to answer questions about it. reader, the daughter of a cloud knight general was in an arranged marriage with blade before he became a criminal and took on the mantle blade - we aren’t aware of what his name used to/was so he is referred to as blade continuously. the reader is a social pariah and is married to a second husband. while we do not know exactly what blade and dan heng did together, we assume it was a creation of sorts, so that is implied. please keep in mind there is kidnapping in this piece but when this is out in it's bigger state there will be more heavy dc within the story!!

tags: +18 minors dni! dc content within, fem reader! arrange marriages, implied cheating/unfaithfulness, jealousy, angst, kidnapping, crying, mentioning of murder- let me know what i missed !

synopsis: a ghost shows his face - the past never dies, especially here in the xianzhou luofu.

You were frightened - it’s what you say to yourself as you grip the pillow beneath you, trembling in your inner clothes. It was like seeing a ghost, an apparition of your shameful past as red eyes leered at you from above, framed by long blue-black strands of his hair. Tilting his head you can hear the ornaments of his clothing and his earring clink quietly, paired with your trembling breaths; it’s all that can be heard in the room you share with your second husband. The man in front of you is like a cursed statue, unflinching, unmoving and unbreathing.

Still and present - like a stain you can’t get out, the past that will never die. He will lick his wounds and even if he were to lose a limb, his memories or his mind, the man known as Blade will always appear before you like a dog that doesn’t know any better. His eyes never leave you, even as you choke out the words and clutch the thin jade necklace he gave you as a wedding gift you still wear.

“Are you here to kill me?” Your words are punctuated by the cold sweat that runs down your cheek that he eyes with hunger.

“No. Of five people, three must pay a price…you are not one of them. Destiny has decreed that we will be together again.” His words turn your fear to anger. Fear, anger, betrayal - you think of your marriages. Though you grew to love the man he was once, your love had always been for the highest bidder. Blade’s former self’s talent was unmatched and your current lecherous husband’s money were the reasons for you being promised to these men. Love was never in the cards for you and even the man you did love had caused you so much strife because he couldn’t stay away from what intrigued him. Despite your counsel, your pleading, your begging - your life turned to ash in your mouth.

“Destiny? That is why you are here before me - because of the ramblings of a mad man?” You ask, tone impudent and harsh. If this was anyone else you’d be embarrassed, you were raised better than that but you just can’t help yourself at this moment. You didn’t even realize that you had tears stinging your eyes until he had drawn closer, knees to the bed and a gloved hand reached to cup your cheek. You couldn’t stop him even if you wanted to, once you were a proud warrior, the apple of your father’s eye and strong.

But after the incident you were stripped of it all - your weapon, your strength and even your father’s love.

You are weak and alone, a frightened woman with tears in her eyes at the mercy of the man she once loved. How pathetic you are, still the same from when you lost everything crying before all at the gravity of your loss.

“I made you cry.” He speaks finally, the artificial moon making his eyes glow like a crow’s in your room. His thumb rubs at your cheek and the affection is haunting as he would do this when his name was familiar to your tongue. You haven’t been touched so gently in a time, depraved of it for so long you don’t have it in you to smack his hand away. You’ve heard him say those words before - the memory makes you flush.

“You’ve always made me cry.” You say, tone warbling as you look at him with red eyes that almost match his. Blade makes a sound, confused but wanting and you look away to bring forth memories from when your lives were intertwined.

“Throughout our arrangement you didn’t say a word when we first met, I cried because I thought you found me repulsive. And you only gave me swords as gifts in the beginning, I thought it was because you didn’t find me womanly.” You laugh a little at that one, teary and soft because at the time you were driven mad about what to do but now you can’t help but find it humorous. The man before you was your blue spring of youth, and the winter of your death all the same.

 “Were we arranged?’ He murmurs, confused as his eyes scrunch in the same way they did when he would begin to craft some new tool for the artisans. You nod, letting small drops of salt water drip down your face.

“Yes. My father thought you were brilliant. He wanted to sponsor your talent, and through our marriage, you received financial help for your crafts.” You explained, feeling your cheeks turn tacky at the talk of finances. He nods, and again there’s a fog in his eye - a glaze that dulls his warrior sense as he begins to reach back into his mind for his ghosts of the past.

“That’s how me and Dan Fen-”

“Don't mention that man’s name to me.” You cut him coldly and it makes him laugh. Despite what you may think he does have some memories of you - your smile and the gentle way you would hold out your hand for finches to rest in your palm. It’s humorous to see you so harsh, like a lion cub growling.  

“Don’t worry, I plan to kill him when the time comes.” He says and it shames you to admit but that promise does soothe you some.

“I don’t care, I hate him. I hate you.” You say and Blade huffs an amused sound. Condescending and almost patronizing, you are aware that you sound like a petulant child.

“You’ve let me get rather close, for a man you hate.” He tries to tease but his voice is too monotone and you only grow more annoyed as you narrow your eyes and hiss at him.

“That’s because for as much as I hate you, I still love you. You were my first love, how could I possibly let you go?” You mutter the last bit but he still catches it and something smug grows in his chest at your admittance.

“Only love.” Blade says and you look at him bewildered.

“I am your only love. Unless you’ve fallen for the pig that is your current husband.” You blink and a new emotion glitters between your lashes and he wonders if he has made you cry again.

“Only love…yes…that’s right. A curse I must bear.” You say and he says nothing, as he supposed he must be like a stain on your life.

“Are you happy here?” Blade asks suddenly and it makes you glance at him from under your lashes that are still dewy with saltwater. It's a redundant question, the answer hangs in the space between the two of you - the liminal space that can be seen between the sun and the moon. Your voice cracks, and you answer him with a voice so bitter it makes Blade grin.

“No. No I’m not.”

“Would you like to leave?”

“Yes.”

Red eyes close to let his grin widen, a sight that before made you smile back then when he was younger and an awkward young man. Now all it does is drive a chill down your back, cold sweat like icicles down the fabric of your inner clothes as dread fills you up to your head. His head comes closer, you drown in a sea of banners and wine, your breath stutters and you don’t even see it - the tranquilizer in his hand that he is quick to inject you with. He is the last thing you see, and the last thing you feel is the ghost of his lips brushing against yours.

He laughs - a dark and cool sound that makes you whine like a frightened dog.

“Come with me then, just like it used to be - back then, now again.”

The celestial boat continues its journey, the artificial night sky filled with the stars it imitates but the only thing, when you wake up in a bed that is most unfamiliar next to a man who is both past and present you finally see the true stars for the very first time.

[nevesmose]

I don't know anywhere near enough about Sanguinius to metaphorically crochet him into a little finger puppet for my primarch fics but how about a little baseless speculation about him and Fulgrim? Please note that this is all based on how I view them in the universe of my silly little stories and is in no way a claim about knowing how they are in canon / lore.

I would probably a) portray Sanguinius as a genuinely sweet adorable cinnamon roll too precious for this world and b) have Fulgrim utterly loathe him because of this.

I tend to write Fulgrim as being a pleasant and charming person who, deep down, is about 50% a deeply broken overthinking ultra-perfectionist and 50% really jealous and vindictive. Please understand that this isn't me saying he's just evil and always was because it really really isn't. It's entirely possible for someone with these traits to function perfectly well in society and not be a bad person in any meaningful sense.

However.

One of his formative experiences as a primarch was almost losing his entire legion due to the Blight corrupted geneseed that almost wiped them out right at the start.

He had to build them up himself from nothing with the constant threat of annihilation both in the sense that "if I fuck up a war and lose however-many thousand Astartes in a terrible accident on the double-ended dildo planet I have no reserves or replacements" and also "every use of our geneseed is a gamble against the horrific mutation coming back and destroying us all over again". In that context the solution he turns to, and the only one that probably makes sense based on his prior experience on Chemos, is perfection.

Make no mistakes, ever, anywhere, because the cost of failure is incalculable, even if it means committing science-treason so you can purge all weakness from your own space dudes. It's not a desire for perfection based on arrogance, although he is of course immensely arrogant in a lot of ways, but one motivated deep down by fear.

People like to clown on Fulgrim based on Jaghatai's infamous "I hear you do strange things to your warriors 😂👌" sick burn, but to be honest, viewed from his context, what Fulgrim's doing is somewhat understandable.

That is if we assume that the Khan isn't just making a cheap insult but rather is implying he knows a lot more than would be preferable about Fabius dicking around with Astartes genetics in order to detect and eliminate carriers of the corrupted gene-seed so that the III Legion, one of the smallest of all numerically, can still survive. And then a lot of other things too because, like Fabius could believably say in one of the weirder McNeill stories, forbidden science is akin to the ancient Terran delicacy known as Pringles. Once you pop you can't stop.

With that in mind it feels like a lot of Fulgrim's post-heresy actions, not just the snake orgies but the general distance and lack of care for his sons, comes from revelling in just finally being free of that level of stress and pressure weighing down on him at all times. Even Perturabo doesn't withdraw from the Iron Warriors that much and he's a dick.

Anyway, back to pre-heresy days. He has all this going on and then in comes Sanguinius with his giant fucking angel wings who everyone loves and who turned his legion into One Direction (not really but you know... perceptions vs reality and no one in this setting actually communicates with one another since they'd probably have a lot in common regarding fears of being mutants etc)

It's the kind of thing that I think would feel like a dagger in the heart to someone like Fulgrim. Directly highlighting and literally embodying all of his fears about mutation and imperfection and yet somehow appearing to get away with it while he has to exercise constant control and do horrible things simply in order for his legion to exist.

So for that reason I think he would absolutely hate Sangy and do everything he could to undermine him.

"Oh no, brother! I've accidentally spilled this entire Big Gulp cup of bright red Tizcan wine all over your beautiful white wings, and only moments before you were due to make a speech to ten million people about how wonderful the Imperium is! Let me help you clean it up."

And then he pulls out a Looney Tunes sized bottle labelled Fabius's Finest Molt-O-Matic Guaranteed Feather Remover and starts spraying it on him.

[yanderes-galore]

Hello! I love much your writing!! 💕 Can i please request yandere Thor with prompts 37 + 4

I'm happy you love my writing! I was assuming my prompts so here you go :) Kept it general but I guess this takes place sometime after the first Thor movie or after Thor: The Dark World. Which could range anywhere before or after Endgame, lol.

Yandere! Thor Prompts 37 + 4

"We should get married! It's been long enough, hasn't it?"

"My heart belongs to you, I'll adore anything you do to it."

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Clingy behavior, Mutual relationship turns forced, Obsession, Implied paranoia, Slight delusional behavior, Jealousy/Possessive behavior briefly implied, Forced marriage, Trauma implied.

If Thor was new to Earth you could understand his lack of privacy as something like Asgardian culture shock. However... Thor has been acquainted with Earth for years now. You'd think he'd learn to give you, his significant other, privacy.

The Asgardian's affection started as comforting and even cute! When you started getting to know each other he was in a pretty rough place while trying to protect his people and home. You ended up helping him through his break up and grief due to many events in his past.

When he eventually asked to date you, how could you not accept? Dating someone like Thor sounded like a dream. It was like a dream...

For the most part.

Thor is nothing but caring towards you, you can still say that even now. The issue is his inability to be away from you. For someone as intimidating and strong as Thor, it's strange to see him so upset over you leaving his side.

When you're together Thor loves the feeling of you in his arms. You find yourself always encased in his hold one way or another. Laying down, sitting, or standing... Thor has himself draped over you.

Thor peppers you in kisses and praises. He holds you like you're as precious as any jewel, maybe even more. Thor is dedicated and loving... completely devote to his Midgardian love.

"My heart belongs to you, I'll adore anything you do to it." Thor murmurs to you when you're alone, saying it like a promise. In his mind you'll always be together, he never wants to lose you.

You find it flattering, it's a cute display he does to show affection. You just thought Asgardians were poetic and affectionate with their love. Even if that is true about their culture...

You wish Thor would stop claiming what he's doing as "dedication" rather than "obsession".

Thor's affection only ever increased. It grew to the point Thor never left your side. People originally thought of it as cute that Thor adored you so much. Now it bordered on strange.

His affection was usually soft and caring. It's just there was too much of it. That and when others were around, you noticed his grip tighten.

Encouraging him to at least stand beside you instead of hold you all the time is met with opposition. There's minor fights but nothing too bad. You try to tolerate his behavior and excuse it with his past. He's lost loved ones... surely he's just a bit shaken still?

You thought you could tolerate it... but when Thor asked for your hand in marriage, holding onto your hand while on his knees, you feel trapped.

"My Dear..." He starts, a grin on his face. "We should get married! It's been long enough, hasn't it?"

"Thor..." You say hesitantly, watching as he kisses the back of your hand. "Don't you think it's too soon?"

"What makes you say that?" Thor asks, concern lacing his voice. You have trouble swallowing.

"It feels too soon for me. I love you, I just feel we should take things slow. It's only been-"

"Almost two years, dear. It's almost been two years. Why must you make me wait even longer for you?" Thor sighs, standing up and pulling you into his chest. "I've pledged my loyalty to you and our love... can you not do the same?"

"I'm just a bit scared-"

"There's nothing to be scared of. I'm here to love and lay my life down for you."

"Why are you forcing me?"

Thor thinks for a moment, pulling away to look at you.

"I'm forcing you?"

"Can't we wait a little longer? To see if things work out?"

"Things will work out. I know they will."

"Then we can wait!"

"I don't WANT to wait, dear! I want you to be mine until the end. Who knows when I will have the ability to ask you again...."

"... then I want to call things off."

That phrase creates a deafening silence. Thor's face is that of shock, trying to discern if you meant what you said. Meanwhile... you just look like a cornered animal.

"... you can't."

"Thor, you may have been royalty in Asgard, but this is Earth. I have the right to refuse marriage. It wouldn't be happy between us if we forced it!"

"I can't lose you, dear. This is why I wanted to marry in the first place. We can't throw away what we have now!"

"Please, Thor... I need a break." You say, turning around.

Only for Thor to grab your waist.

"I promise it will be to your liking. A combination of Asgard and Midgard tradition. I'll give you the prettiest ring. You'll be lovely...."

"Thor. Let me go."

"... and if I say no? What will you do then?"

You realize you can't do anything. Thor is much stronger than you. Him holding you like this is effectively a vice grip.

"Thor... please, I love you. We just need a little break."

"If you love me..." Thor whispers, turning your face so he can kiss the corner of your lips. "Then we'll marry."

"If I say no?" You whimper, Thor looking at your eyes briefly. His gaze is dark, pools of yearning within them getting darker.

"We'll work things out...."

---

The cold metal of the ring felt uncomfortable on your finger. The outfit you wore was overly pretty and much to your spouse's taste. It was a wedding... and you were unhappy.

Thor, your soon-to-be husband on the other hand was ecstatic. Part of you wishes you stood your ground, yet how long could you keep that up? Thor is an Asgardian, he could overpower you in seconds.

The entire time up to the wedding and during it, a sensation of feeling trapped weighed heavily in your gut. When you looked at Thor and his behavior... you felt chills. He truly had more power over you than you would've liked.

You were powerless to stop what he had planned.

"My dearest, you look wonderful...." Thor praises you in your outfit. "I understand if you're still nervous... but I promise it will be the same as before."

That's what you were scared of. He was clingy before, now he's going to be even worse in your eyes. You only sigh and nod in response. Thor gives you a smile.

"There's no need to be scared, I'll always be here for you. I love you, my dearest."

He holds you close, a kiss pressed to your lips. You knew he meant this all as comforting, which normally, would be lovely to you.

Yet you never wanted this and the trapped feeling never went away.

There was a need to be scared and Thor, the one you used to love, was the reason behind it.