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welcometoqueer · 15 days ago

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Some U.S. election news updates (as of afternoon November 7, 2024):

Many states, including major battleground ones, have started recounting votes on their own despite there still being no national call for a recount. Some of these states recounting or considering recounting as of November 7, 2024 include: Pennsylvania, Wisconsin, Nevada, Arizona (considering), and Texas (considering).

Most news outlets have been covering state laws regarding recounts and what a recount could mean. Notably, right-wing sources like Fox News have not mentioned the possibility of a recount or the high demand for one (hmmm).

In cities such as Chicago and Philadelphia, people took to the streets in a peaceful protest to demand a recount (wait, you can protest peacefully?? without starting an insurrection?? Crazy).

More information alleging Trump cheating has come forward, although many people are expressing their frustrations over there being little to no coverage of election interference by the mainstream media. Additionally, many Democratic voters are vowing to boycott news sources such as CNN and MSNBC due to their apparent tone-deaf and lackluster response to the allegations.

On Twitter, hashtags such as “Do Not Concede Kamala,” “Recount 2024,” “He/Trump Cheated,” and “Rigged” continue to trend nationally since election night.

Also in the Twitter hellscape, Elon Musk has been removing posts with resources, posts alleging Trump cheated, and posts with information on how to check your ballot and demand a recount. This is awfully suspicious and concerning behavior from someone who has also been accused of bribing voters, which is a federal crime.

Many people are also sharing their grief over the extreme likelihood of programs and services such as Social Security, Medicare, SNAP, the Department of Education, and others being diminished or fully gutted as many Republican lawmakers and Trump have promised to do. Already today (Nov. 7), House Republicans have proposed a bill that would reduce social security payments for U.S.Americans who receive disability benefits or a pension.

There are also concerns over imposed tariffs, the United States losing its NATO membership, and the potential dissolving of the United Nations.

Many MAGA Trump supporters have started to be more emboldened, not just in the Twitter space. Multiple parents have come forward to share that young boys at their children’s schools have also begun repeating the “your body, my choice” mantra, leaving other kids in distress.

Speaking of distress, nationwide, queer and trans people have been largely absent from work and school. Since election night, LGBTQ+ and other helplines have had long waits due to such high demand.

TW: suicide mention, skip the next paragraph

There’s been over 2000+ suicides of just LGBTQ+ individuals since election night and the numbers keep increasing drastically.

End TW

Politically, sitting President Joe Biden addressed the nation today to discuss a “peaceful transfer of power.” He addressed people questioning Donald Trump’s win and the election system saying: “It is honest, it is fair, and it is transparent, and it can be trusted, win or lose."

Needless to say, no one was pleased by his response and are still demanding an investigation or recount.

Other political figures such as Bernie Sanders and the Obamas’ released their own statements regarding the election.

The Obamas’ had a very professional yet disappointed statement.

Bernie Sanders however, took a different approach, sharing the mass sentiment among democratic voters and criticizing the Democratic Party based on their response to the situation. “It should come as no great surprise that a Democratic Party which has abandoned working class people would find that the working class has abandoned them. While the Democratic leadership defends the status quo, the American people are angry and want change. And they’re right.”

[ID:

Multiple videos and images with election news and updates.

The first video, posted to Twitter, is of an Anti-Trump protest in Chicago.

These should be peacefully taking place all over the country. This is what democracy is about, not storming Capitol buildings. Right MAGA? pic.twitter.com/lgzsP41Lze — Brian Krassenstein (@krassenstein) November 7, 2024.

The video shows people in the streets of Chicago and in front of Trump tower peacefully protesting in demand for a recount and investigation.

Protesters chants include:

“Donald Trump, you will see!”

“Racist, sexist, anti-gay! Donald Trump, go away!”

and “You’re not welcome in this town! Donald Trump, you fascist clown!”

The second video was also posted to Twitter by CALL TO ACTIVISM (@CalltoActivism) on November 6, 2024. It’s a video from MSNBC reporting on the strange behavior of Trump leading up to the election where he repeatedly said he didn't need votes. These statements seem to imply that regardless of how people voted, he expected to gain power.

The next image is of the official statement regarding the election results by Barack and Michelle Obama.

The statement reads:

STATEMENT BY PRESIDENT AND MRS. OBAMA ON THE 2024 PRESIDENTIAL ELECTION NOVEMBER 6, 2024

“Over the last few weeks and through Election Day, millions of Americans cast their votes - not just for president, but for leaders at every level. Now the results are in, and we want to congratulate President Trump and Senator Vance on their victory. This is obviously not the outcome we had hoped for, given our profound disagreements with the Republican ticket on a whole host of issues. But living in a democracy is about recognizing that our point of view won't always win out, and being willing to accept the peaceful transfer of power. Michelle and I could not be prouder of Vice President Harris and Governor Walz - two extraordinary public servants who ran a remarkable campaign. And we will always be grateful to the staff and volunteers who poured their heart and soul into electing public servants they truly believed in. As I said on the campaign trail, America has been through a lot over the last few years - from a historic pandemic and price hikes resulting from the pandemic, to rapid change and the feeling a lot of folks have that, no matter how hard they work, treading water is the best they can do. Those conditions have created headwinds for democratic incumbents around the world, and last night showed that America is not immune. The good news is that these problems are solvable - but only if we listen to each other, and only if we abide by the core constitutional principles and democratic norms that made this country great. In a country as big and diverse as ours, we won't always see eye-to-eye on everything. But progress requires us to extend good faith and grace - even to people with whom we deeply disagree. That's how we've come this far, and it's how we'll keep building a country that is more fair and more just, more equal and more free.”

The last two images are Bernie Sanders’ statement on the election results, criticizing the response of the Democratic Party.

Sanders’ statement reads:

NEWS: Sanders Statement on the Results of the 2024 Presidential Election November 6, 2024 BURLINGTON, Vt. - Sen. Bernie Sanders (I-Vt.) today released the following statement in response to the outcome of the 2024 presidential election:

“It should come as no great surprise that a Democratic Party which has abandoned working class people would find that the working class has abandoned them. First, it was the white working class, and now it is Latino and Black workers as well. While the Democratic leadership defends the status quo, the American people are angry and want change. And they're right. Today, while the very rich are doing phenomenally well, 60% of Americans live paycheck to paycheck and we have more income and wealth inequality than ever before. Unbelievably, real, inflation-accounted-for weekly wages for the average American worker are actually lower now than they were 50 years ago. Today, despite an explosion in technology and worker productivity, many young people will have a worse standard of living than their parents. And many of them worry that Artificial Intelligence and robotics will make a bad situation even worse. Today, despite spending far more per capita than other countries, we remain the only wealthy nation not to guarantee health care to all as a human right and we pay, by far, the highest prices in the world for prescription drugs. We, alone among major countries, cannot even guarantee paid family and medical leave. Today, despite strong opposition from a majority of Americans, we continue to spend billions funding the extremist Netanyahu government's all out war against the Palestinian people which has led to the horrific humanitarian disaster of mass malnutrition and the starvation of thousands of children. Will the big money interests and well-paid consultants who control the Democratic Party learn any real lessons from this disastrous campaign? Will they understand the pain and political alienation that tens of millions of Americans are experiencing? Do they have any ideas as to how we can take on the increasingly powerful Oligarchy which has so much economic and political power? Probably not. In the coming weeks and months those of us concerned about grassroots democracy and economic justice need to have some very serious political discussions. Stay tuned.”

/end ID]

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priyasws · 2 years ago

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starry-bi-sky · 3 months ago

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I just think they’re neat. Also Talia totally started it, Ras Danyal is just gonna finish it.

Danny Is An Alternate Version Of Ra's Al Ghul And Flash Already Called Dibs On Adopting Him

Danny In All His Sleep Deprived Slightly Scuffed Up From A Fight Glory Is On His Way To Clockworks Tower To Hopefully Get A Nap And Maybe Some Homework Done When A Natural Portal Opens Up In Front Of Him And Proceeds To Unceremoniously Drop Him In The DC Verse Just Outside Of Central City Before Promptly Closing Leaving A Tired Danny Behind In A Run Down Abandoned Parking Lot.

It's Times Like This When Danny Regrets Putting Off Learning How To Make His Own Portals, Cause Now He Is Very Much Stuck For The Foreseeable Future And He Has No Idea Where Or When He Is. Luckily For Him However Central City Isn't Too Far Away, Unlucky For Him However Is That Once In The City He Realizes This Isn't His Dimension. He's Pretty Sure He'd Remember Something Called The Justice League.

So What Do You Do When Supernatural Bullshit Fails You? You Fall Back On Your Mad Scientist Roots And You Make A Portal Gun. So That's Exactly What Danny Plans To Do.

Unfortunately Staying Alive And Building Questionably Safe Portal Technology Requires Money And Supplies, So He Ends Up Wandering From City To City Doing Odd Jobs/Fixing Up Busted Tech For Cash Or Unwanted Electronics For His "Operation: Get Home" Needs. This Obviously Ends In A Few Superhero Encounter Shenanigans.

Though He Always Ends Up Back Near Central City, Both On The Off Chance The Natural Portal Will Open Up Again And Because Out Of All The Superheroes That Apparently Exist In This Universe The Speedsters Are His Favorite (Red Robin Is Solidly His Second Favorite Ever Since The Gotham Vigilante Gave Him A Large Coffee Filled With Enough Caffeine To Kill A Man).

Unbeknownst To Danny However Is That Every Hero/Vigilante He Has Encountered Has Come To At Least One Of The Following Conclusions; 1. Run Away Meta Who Is In Desperate Need Of A Good Meal/Adoption Bait. 2. Possibly Red Robin/Tim Drake Clone 3. A Good Kid But Could Possibly Be A Future Rouge If Left Unsupervised. 4. Did Bats Get A New Kid And Why Is He Here?

All Flash Knows Is That He Saw The Kid First And Therefore Has Dibs. Suck It Bruce.

Fast-forward A Few Months And Danny Gets Hurt During A Rogue Attack While Trying To Help Some Civilians Get To Safety (Old Hero Habits Die Hard (Ha Die Hard) And All That Jazz) And He Nopes Out Once Everyone Is Safe And When The Paramedics Are Busy With Other People Unaware He Left A Blood Sample Behind.

One DNA Test Brought To You By Paranoid Bat Concerns Of A Possible Red Robin Clone Later And They Find Out That Dannys DNA Matches One Ra's Al Ghul.

They Now Think Danny Is An Escaped Ra's Al Ghul Clone.

Memes For The Vibes:

#dani/talia is a sweetheart 95% of the time. unfortunately for everyone else but danny. it is the OTHER 5% of the time #consistent heights?? never heard of her #dani is currently megan from drake and josh to the rest of the world.#this has been haunting me #currently associating ras danyal to hozier’s dinner and diatribes #dani is currently asking him ‘no more kid gloves??’ with a worrying amount of excitement #very fond of the idea that danny’s been comparably passive this whole time towards the heroes trying to apprehend him #every new interaction he has with them that involves them trying to catch him is accompanied with him chanting a mantra at himself #and that mantra is ‘squishy mortal people squishy mortal people squishy mortal people who are just trying to hELP’#regardless of their actual squishy OR mortal status #bc he’s used to tanking hits from gods and giving back just as much as he’s gotten. also. he doesnt want to give them more of a reason to #pursue him. what are his powers?? nunya!

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penofwildfire · 2 months ago

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I think one of the tragic things about the ninja is that they really do LOVE this job. They love fighting, they love saving the world. When there's no bad guy to fight and they have to do something else they get real fuckin bored. Lloyd takes in and trains the kids because he really truly wants more people to BE ninja, he thinks it's just about the coolest thing a person can be. And he's got good reason to feel that way! Before he became a ninja he was a lonely kid on the streets causing trouble for attention! So as much pain and hardship as ninja-ing has put him and the others through, the only thing worse than being a ninja is not being a ninja.

I've seen a handful of works where the Ninja are bitter about their jobs and very clearly only doing it out of obligation, and openly discourage others from doing the same. And unfortunately for us and them, that's just not accurate. As said above, they're EAGER to train the next generation and pass on the skills and life lessons they've gained throughout the years. And they don't even seem to realize just how much this gig as fucked them up. The only thing that seems to get them to quit is the loss of a teammate (ToE, Crystalized), and since so far all their dead have come back to life, I think it's fair to say that even that will have less of an effect on them as time goes on.

It's been said before by smarter people but the mantra of "Ninja Never Quit" is a bit of a double-edged sword. Because sure, it's great that they keep going, it's what's gotten them through so many disasters, but there are times when they really do need to just stop. Lloyd is a prime example of this, with his almost blind willingness to do whatever destiny or higher powers may ask of him, usually while everyone else is literally begging him to stop and think of himself for a minute. He's got no self-preservation to speak of, and I think it's safe to say this job will eventually be the death of him. Unfortunately "Ninja Usually Don't Quit But Sometimes They Do" isn't a very good catchphrase.

#anyway #ninjago #dragons rising #ninjago lloyd #ninjago analysis

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naffeclipse · 6 days ago

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Gifts

Reader x Mermaid!Eclipse

Commission Info

Thank you so much to @counterbalance for requesting a darling fic about Y/N and Mer Eclipse learning about gift-giving and then properly celebrating Christmas together! This was a delight to write and I'm always happy to return to Soul Bound to the Astral Sea AU <3

Content Warning: Light angst.

———

Tonight, for once, you find it difficult to drift off into dreams. It’s hardly been an issue before. In the night, while you rest, you visit your dear friend—a figment of him. A memory replaying the last tattered pieces of your home like a wind-torn sail.

The familiar ache in your heart does not rest. It is a machine, a relentless, chugging engine that does not know what time of day or energy you have to give, it goes on hurting, wondering about the little mer you held in your arms within the shelter of the cove. Where has he gone? Is he safe? Is he growing as big as you dream of?

You calm your breaths. Sliding your eyes close despite the lack of heaviness, excitement clings to your fingertips and toes.

You’re not a child. Not anymore, but you’re not grown enough to be seen as an adult. Vanessa looks and acts like an adult. The adults talk to her like she is one. She kind of is. You think she’s serious enough to be one, anyway.

A teenager. That’s what you are. Neither baby nor adult. It’s frustrating at times when you’re so furiously captured within a body that has begun puberty but you’re still inclined to have a joy in things the little kids enjoy as well.

Fighting your jumping anticipation, you shift once under the scratchy covers. Go to sleep. Go to sleep.

The mantra works over you, and draws you down, down, down into a dark depth with no sun, only stars.

The black space is as peaceful as a day with no wind. The stars glittering around you are distant and far, watching you with a cool awareness. You float with no power to propel yourself through the inky sea you float within, and you wait.

He does not leave you alone for long.

Brilliant orange light pierces the darkness. The glow engulfs you until you find his head rearing through the pitch-black like a solar flare across the surface of the sun.

A warmth spills into your chest. Caressing your heart gently, the echo of a song a child of the sea once sang to you returns.

Eclipse.

A leviathan—barely grown. His body easily dwarfs you with a long, scaled tail shimmering like pearls under moonlight, burning hot orange. Frills and fins wave through the black sea. His four limbs cut through the emptiness, propelling himself towards you until his two lower hands take you gently in his palms—like a person picking up a cat, you think.

He’s so much bigger now. A sort of growth spurt has taken him this last year, lifting him out of the tiny minnow you found trapped on the beach and into this vision of a great sea beast that tears down ships and conjures storms. The frills around his face have thickened and are beginning to spread wider upon the crown of his face. His arms are thin but quickly gaining with limber, corded muscle. His colors of brilliant orange, red, and black are beginning to deepen into sharper, mature hues.

There is still so much growing left for him to do if he is to become a true monster of the ocean, as all the stories go. But he is large and he is gentle with you in his hands.

His maw immediately splits into a great grin. He chirps a gentle sound in greeting. You stare at him, and the familiar ache returns at the impression of his claws handling you so gently.

What a beautiful, cruel dream.

“Hey, big guy,” you say softly. You softly tap the back of his hand cradling your torso. “Sorry, I couldn’t sleep.”

Eclipse grumbles low in displeasure. His wide eyes flare with a familiar concern before his expression picks up once more. His frills flick.

A pulse rings through your core. A question. The reason for your excitement—not anxiety—that almost kept you from another blissful vision in the night.

He draws you close to his chest. Reclining onto his back, Eclipse lays you upon his heart. You want to laugh. How long ago was it when you cradled the little mer in your arms like a baby? Now he’s holding you effortlessly upon his chest, and you have never been smaller despite your growth spurt. Unfortunately, this is where it ends for you.

The thought doesn’t scare you: being held in the palm of a giant mer. You knew then when you beheld his little face and his wide, scared eyes, that mers weren’t as bad as the people of the island thought.

A great, powerful heat rolls through your body in confirmation. Then, a little nudge.

“Right,” you murmur, “Tomorrow is Christmas.”

You concentrate on images of a tree decorated in tinsel and ornament, and little gifts wrapped up underneath. That’s what it looks like for other children when their parents are providing.

“It’s about gift-giving,” you study the pattern of his shining scales, “and being together with people you love.”

Immediately, your thoughts wander to the feast the island holds for everyone, including orphans like yourself. You’ll get a gift or two provided by the lady who works at the office in the center of town, paid for on behalf of the community, often generic and simple, like a good-smelling lotion or a tiny toy (though you’ve outgrown such desires). Other kids stare at you when you dare to linger far too long, and often loudly wonder if you’re the same one their parents say is strange and possibly dangerous. They know it’s due to a mer.

None of it matters to you. What you care for is the food, the rich smell of mashed potatoes, and the savory scent of a Christmas ham with honey glaze. Oh, you would give your left hand to devour an entire coconut cream pie.

Eclipse trills a curious sound.

“Vanessa will help me steal a pie,” you say, then laugh quietly while you outline a scale on Eclipse’s chest. Sometimes, when he has damaged or worn scales, you try to pick at them but your phantom hands seem to have no effect. “It’s not much, but it’s nice.”

Once, a few years ago, when you had woken up on Christmas day, Vanessa noticed the tears on your cheeks. Another dream of Eclipse left you with a deeper ache than usual. She didn’t even open any of her gifts; she simply slipped a coconut cream pie off of the dessert table they were setting up, and she took you down to the beach. It was cool, but not cold enough for snow. Vanessa told you to dig in. The two of you ate like toddlers, eating with your hands and smearing whipped cream on your chins.

You looked out to the ocean, a dark gray-blue, and wondered if Eclipse would have eaten pie with you.

A flash of bittersweetness burns through you. Eclipse rests his hand gently on your back and strokes his thumb down your hair.

Eclipse rumbles as you lie on his chest, causing you to still. A terrible coolness floods your middle. You press your palm over his heart. It is not a content sound he often makes or a curious grumble. No, it is a moan of sorrow, something deep swirling within the pit of his stomach.

Again, you feel a sting of salt upon an old wound. Your heart ripples with his anguish.

“Eclipse?” You can’t lift your head from underneath his soothing motions. “What’s wrong?”

He continues to hold you with desperation as if trying to catch the moon by scooping up the reflection of lunar light upon a still, watery surface.

The strength of this dream of your little mer bears down upon you, and you long to close your eyes. Instead, you turn your head and kiss the firm bone of his sternum.

“Don’t be sad,” you whisper, “It’s okay. It’s alright.”

You’re not very good at easing him. His presence is still downtrodden, but a tinge of frustration burns around it, like fire eaten away at the edges of old newspapers.

Another pulse rises through you, stronger than the rest. Then images begin to emerge in your mind. Ghostly memories of beautiful large seashells, pieces of lost treasure, and even a brass clock spring into the front of your awareness.

It perplexes you all the same, the levels of your dreams. Sometimes they’re sweet and simple, and Eclipse only holds you while the two of you drift away. Others are like this. It makes the ache deeper, widening like a chasm until it’s nothing more than a trench where no light reaches.

“That’s a lot of gifts,” you chuckle, then add, “If you were here, I’d give you fish. So much fish that you couldn’t even eat it all. Would you like that?”

A soft rumble quakes underneath you. The impression of hunger storms through you as he provides a comically violent rendition of how he would tear apart and indulge in such a feast.

But he falls quiet, and you have little more to say.

You smile as his hand gently surrounds you in the form of a squeezing hug. You lay your head heavy on his chest and watch the starlight drift by. The constant heat in your chest is gentle and comforting, but underneath it is a salty sorrow.

He won’t be here to give fish to, and you will go to town with Vanessa tomorrow, and steal a pie.

When you wake, you feel the warmth of the dream fades. It’s Christmas.

The sea is calm on a Christmas day. Last year, it was tormented with storms and raging seas after the harsh season of the sea leviathan attacks. You try to not remember the sickly yellow scales of the monster from the depths, nor its teeth, nor its stomach you were trapped inside.

Now, you guide the Rustbucket II slowly, aware of the heavy catch dragging along its side. The silver fish struggle within the net. Your old fishing ship might have buckled such a load. Eagerly, you sail deeper into the sea while everyone on the island enjoys a feast, even Vanessa.

You promised you would see her later. She threatened you with eating all of the coconut cream pies if you didn’t keep your word.

You turn your sights to the horizon. A bright sun shines down despite the cool temperatures. Your thick sweater combats the chill in the air, and you watch the fog of your breath heat up before your red-touched nose. Fixing a strap of your overalls, you search outwards with your heart.

Eclipse?

A resounding ripple in your heart answers back. Slowing down the length of the boat, you step out of the cabin to reach the railing on the deck. The beautiful water settles around you and your small vessel. You search the deep blue. Warmth climbs into your bone marrow. The presence of a great leviathan swirls the surface before gently, he breaks through with a gentle rise of his massive form.

Dripping above you, Eclipse grins, his maw open wide and revealing sharp layers of teeth. None of the jagged fangs frightened you. Instead, leaning your arms over the railing, you gaze back with a smile on your face.

“Hey, big guy.” You incline with your head towards the netting straining with the wriggling weight of your catch. “Merry Christmas.”

His eyes sweep slowly away from you and to the fish. His eyes widen, the pupils dilating in a predator’s hunger. His tongue, shadowy and sinuous, swipes his mouth.

For me?

He lifts a claw to his chest and taps once. The bright glow within his gaze becomes candle-soft.

You nod. “For you.”

His massive form sends ripples against your boat, rocking it in the slightest, but you flow with the bobbing effortlessly. Lowering himself to you, he presents his face close to the edge of your boat. You lean over, as far as you can without losing your footing, and press your face against his cheek.

A gentle, musical sound leaves him, a sigh and a purr, rumbling into one pleased sound. His eyes close. With the gentle touch of sea foam, he nuzzles you softly before you pull back. You rub your gloved hands together.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Dig in!” You gesture at the net. Eclipse trills. Rising again, his massive claws work the riggings of the net just as you have shown him before, and with delicacy, freeing the netting from your boat.

The catch of fish is akin to a bag of marbles in his hand. The little creatures struggle and flop about. Eclipse licks his chops once more. Opening the netting, he upends your gift and dumps it entirely into his maw. You make a slight face as he chews and a few slip away from his maws, falling into the sea and escaping.

You wait. A growing anticipation buzzes through your chest, not of your desire, but from Eclipse. He’s already eating his gift. What more could he be excited about?

A twinge of apprehension moves through you. He doesn’t think you have more fish waiting for him, does he?

Thoroughly rushing through his meal, he chews and takes a heaping swallow.

You watch his expression closely. “How was it? Did you like your snack?”

He trills in answer, humming a song that sends musical notes washing against you. A cheer like a great splash from his massive, lower hands follows. His tail whips excitedly down below. The ocean begins to stir before he calms himself and again, lowers himself down to you.

You laugh. His excitement is infectious, and you soon shake away any concern. He likes his gift. This year you had something you were excited to give. Your dear friend gets to participate in a holiday humans celebrate, and you’re not only looking forward to pie this year.

Eclipse finishes with a thick swallow. With a satisfied swipe of his tongue, he grins at you. You arch an eyebrow back.

A pulse of energy, eager and excited, touches your heart.

“What? What is it, big guy?” You narrow your eyes in exaggerated suspicion when the leviathan tilts his head. A mischief glints in his eyes like a shimmer of stars.

Slowly, he lowers himself to you and gingerly lifts a claw to the top of your head to stroke your hair once.

Wait. Stay.

You dip your chin before Eclipse snaps his tail, and with thick ripples, bordering on crashing waves, he disappears down below. You watch his massive figure before the deep blue swallows up his bright red and orange colors.

What is he planning? Giving you another seashell? You adore the one in your home, sitting close to your bed on top of your dresser. He finds the most lovely things to bring you.

Get ready.

An image flows into your thoughts as the words enter your mind. A knife, like the one you keep in the cabin for cutting through nets. Slowly, you straighten from leaning idly against the railing. What is he going to give you that requires you to have a knife on hand?

Still, you do as he asks. You step away from the waters at last settling from his submergence and locate the little knife. It’s a touch blunt, you need to get it sharpened. Hopefully, it will do the trick.

Venturing back to the railing, you gaze down. A bubbling begins in your chest, clashing now with nervousness amid the anticipation.

You furrow your brow. There are very few times in your life you have ever felt Eclipse nervous.

An urge to call out to him almost overtakes you, but in synchrony with your thoughts, the colossal mer arises back from the depths. He stops at his shoulder, floating in the ocean and keeping his gaze level with you before he draws out his hand.

A small bag, netted and knotted, sits on the water-dripping center of his palm. You peer closer as he offers it up. His frills flick around his head, sitting back slightly while his wide eyes watch you.

For you.

You glance at him before gingerly reaching out and taking the netted bag. You stare down at it, finding a few dozen oysters tied up within.

You lift your head. Eclipse drops his hand back into the water and presses closer to your boat. He looms in the slightest. You get the impression that if he were anywhere close to your size, he would be watching over your shoulder and checking your expression every other second.

“Okay,” you say softly. You use the knife to cut the netting and carefully set the bag down on the deck before you pluck one oyster.

It’s dark. The meat might taste good, though you’ll admit, you’ve never dined on oysters before. Clams, yes, but not this.

Open them.

The urge returns. A swirling vortex of enthusiasm follows, and you glance up at Eclipse for a split second of confusion before you remember what oysters are also known for.

You turn the oyster over. Examining in your hand, you carefully angle the blade and break open the shell. A gray flesh collects within, and several lumps sit underneath the flesh.

Lowering the knife, you stare in silent awe. Your lips part soundlessly. Carefully, using your fingertips, you begin to push on the bumps, coaxing the little treasures out of the oyster and into your palm.

Several pale and shimmering pearls, some round, some less so, fall into your palm.

Saltwater pearls.

“Oh, Eclipse.” You lift your head. “These are beautiful. How did you…?”

A hot breath leaves his mouth—as if he were holding it all the while. He dips his head. Impressions fly through your thoughts. He spoke with Vanessa (as best as he could when she cannot hear him the way you can) and she suggested a pearl necklace for a Christmas gift. Eclipse has found no such treasure in his years of collecting, but he knew what made pearls.

Another thought enters your mind. Eclipse longed to crack open the oysters himself but his claws were far too big for such little pearls.

But a gentle warmth fills your body.

Then you feel his thoughts center on you.

Except you.

You make a sound caught somewhere between a sigh and a sob. You shake your head slightly, blinking back the slight wetness threatening to plunge your face. Clutching the pearls, you look up at him.

“Thank you. No one has ever given me something so precious.” You beam and gingerly roll the priceless pearls between your fingers.

He bobs his head, and settles against the side of your boat, carefully to not put any pressure onto its frame, and settles in as you crack open the neck oyster. A warmth radiates from him, filled to the brim with relief and content.

Once you’ve gathered a priceless hoard of pearls, you get to your feet and kiss Eclipse on his sea-slick cheek. A gesture done in gratitude and as a gift.

#naff's writing commissions #mer eclipse had so many gifts waiting for y/n #and now he can give so much to them!!#and of course y/n can finally give their big guy more fish <333 #in deep dreams between the waves #mermaid!eclipse #naff writing

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sleepy-fiction · 8 days ago

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Got a crush- got a crush- Crush you all beneath me. ⚗️

Jinx x F!Reader SMUT

3k WORDS

tgs: intense violence, erotic asphyxiation, water sports, bdsm, knife play, powerplay, masochist reader, oral, cunnilingus, sexual repression, religious terms/oppressive religious language, reader is shit and pathetic its lovely

syn: Jinx spares you before your death, the adrenaline, the ecstasy, its euphoric. You re-emerge bright-eyed like the first oracle of a God. Only this time, you want to eat God's cunny, and she'll let you.

an: hii err questioning myself with this one wow. this takes place in act 2 of arcane s2, jinx is rumored to be older bc of a possible time skip between act 1 & 2, but jinx is early 20s in this fic. I wanted to write something freakalicious and get back in touch with my weird side. mildly proofread

Smeech's gang had been your home since you were little. You were born into it, your parents' loyal followers, devout, and strict as they came. The rules were engraved into your brain, defined like the Old Testament. You were linear, closed-minded, and point. Your parents died in the battled post silco. Your neighbors, the other kids. The gang's numbers were dwindling, if not by death, then by them abandoning the cree for others. And the years went by. Your silent, dormant hatred for Jinx muddled up.

It continued until her little revolution, where she gained her little blue headed cult following. You'd be lying if you say a part of you wasn't swooned. But your revenge called for more.

What they called "Safety". No, it was nothing but plain blameless sin.

And you were put on this earth to eradicate it.

So it only came natural after Smeech's disassembly, for the gang to disemble themselves as well. Like a ghost town, you found yourself being the only righteous one holding up the banner. And if A^2 + B^2 = C^2, you were going after the women responsible for it.

No.

THE woman responsible for it all.

Jinx.

Blue eyed, blue braided, soon to be blue bellied, Jinx.

Jinx was a flithy mongrel, poisoning Zaun from the inside out. Her almost physiological poison bubbled out of its bloodied cauldron and frothed onto the deep floors of Zaun. Like a thick and heavy smoke blinding the ground, sucking the souls out of sinners, and blinding even the most powerful. Tempting, and as small as an ewe lamb, yet brewing and seizing like an unruly urchin. Baring pretty pale hips, milky white skin smothered in tattoos. And those eyes. Those round doe eyes.

They kept you awake at night.

Tempting.

They made you shudder.

With the bloodlust you had been building for weeks, weeks until the day your holy vengeance struck from the skies. With the last remaining loyal souls with nothing to live for, other than the fragments of Smeech's impressive legacy.

Yet why.

How.

How did things end this way.

Your body seized the moment your very own blades, the one you fantasized about taking the life of Jinx, was twisted deep into your belly. Your eyes flashed white, your gasp deep and profound, your balance suddenly no longer mattering to you anymore. The surprise attack was going well, well, until Jinx drew her devilish strength from hell and slaughtered your gang like animals. And you, being brave enough to stop her, freed her of all her guns. You fought like chickens, scratching and scraping at each other, throwing rocks, tossing dust, kicking crotches, pulling hair (you mainly), all until you had her.

She was pined beneath, whimpering and blabbering useless mantra. You revved your blade. But you stopped. You had to tell her why she deserved this. Your speech you had prepared before vanquishing this world of evil. Your glorious speech of Smeech and your gang. And unbeknownst to you, that was more than enough time for her to flash bright magenta eyes. And whimper a sound so attainable, your breath locked, and suddenly, for no reason at all, you had an urge to piss.

That one second of weakness.

No.

She turned your speech against you, she built up her bewitching tactics, disarming you and filling you with mercy, all for her to drive your beloved knife, your knife that your parents made you, deep, deep into your belly.

Then those doe eyes sharpened and she laughed.

She pushes you off her like you were nothing, your body hitting the wet dirty floor. It was raining, and glory's pellets dribbled woefully onto your cheek. Your breath was broken up into sharp, unattainable gasps as you meekly tried to crawl away. Your vision shook white in a painful mix of adrenaline, pain, and panick. Panick thick enough to make you spit and froth out the corners of your mouth.

Your body was ringing, brazen silver alarm bells loud and sparky in your ears. The flashing of tree roots and veins in your vision, and how sharp your sense of smell suddenly became. You could smell the muddy streets clearer than day, and even the smell of cotton candy and battery acid death pouring out from her body. A smell that, even now, still made your lower parts clench.

"Ha-! Ahaha-ha," she laughs. Her voice echoes. In your shaken vision, you see her rise before you, blurry bright cyan blue blinding. Pitifully, you crawl backward, desperate to flee death. Once Jinx has you, she never spares any mercy. You knew that going in, but never, never did you believe it'd become a reality.

You were going to become another number on an ever growing list of people who thought they could kill Jinx and failed.

Once that settled in your brain, pitifully thick tears sprang out from your eyes. You cried loudly, a wail strong enough to shake the most powerful souls. A wail so primal, so childish, a wail that stemmed from early development yet also the evolution of humans itself- the last cry of a dying homosapien at the hands of a bloodlust driven Neanderthal.

A cry that was stopped by the quaking footsteps of Jinx. The booming, sloppy, wet footsteps filled with the vibrations of her getting closer. She fell on top you with a cadence, a gust of quick wind as she straddled you. You gasped and reached forward blindly, raindrops falling in your eyes and mixing with the tears as you clawed at her jaw and neck.

She didn't care. She grabbed your left wrist in a vice, hard enough for you to cry out like an injured lamb. And with her other hand, she gripped your face and trusted hers into your view.

She spoke, "You feel that?"

You gasped, your breathing erratic.

"You're going to die," she laughed at you. "You're going to die, and you almost had me! Not even my sister got that close!" Her voice is like a wicked hyena. Gravely and strained from the battle, creaking to show her physical pain.

But it was enough. It enough for your body to grow limp in her hands like a frightened goat.

Your eyes bare into her face, your head uplifted by her tight hands. As you stare at her skin, as pale as powder, eyes as tired and jaded as a wilted flower, and smile as deranged as a wheel on its last hinge.

She smiles, growing ever close, closed enough for your noses to touch, and for her breath, the mingle with yours, "You know. At this stage. You're suddenly aware of everything around you. Your vision goes to shit. But you can still hear the little birds go 'cheep-cheep-cheep', and the rain-- 'pitter-patter-pitter-patter'. And you can't quite feel the pain, but it's the fear of knowing it's coming that gets you." She grabs the knife, twisting it slightly.

You jolt, crying out in agony. "Your heart rate spikes, you begin to hyperventilate. And there's this ringing in your ears... And... My favorite part, the buzzing behind the eyes," she says as she reaches and stretches your eyelids back. Your pupils shrink, and just as she says, your body systematically begins to follow. Snot pools down your nose, a tell tale sign of your inability to get oxygen. "It's totally useless how we have a nose and mouth. But yet they get so scared and they start working against eachother! Just like families... Just like gangs... like rats," she hisses, and you can feel the etchings of her lips near your cheek as she loopily giggles towards your ear.

"You know, if you breathe through your nose, your hyperventilating will stop," she smiles. Eagerly and foolishly, you obey, shutting your mouth instantly and sucking in gifts of air. But just as instant as you gain it, you lose it within seconds. Jinx pinches your nose shut, her thumb and index vicious like the jerking bite of a shark.

You panick, you eyeballs ringing. And as you try to open your mouth again, she drops your head, ot crashes to the ground, and she slams her free hand to clamp your mouth shut.

"Nhahaha," She laughs. Oh, she laughs. It's manical in nature, enough for you to wet yourself in pure fear. Your hands shoot up to claw at her hands, albeit weakly, and it feels nothing more than a massage to her. By now, you're aware of the warm wet clinging your shirt has to your belly, your pants to your crotch, and the flavorful blend of urine and iron in the wet muddy air.

Your vision spots.

She releases you, but it was already much too late.

"You know what," she says. Her voice trails in and out in your ears. Her blurry figure rises, "I think I'll spare you... That is, if you don't bleed to death out here."

Your head sags, catching the final glimpses of her limping away before it all fades to--

You jolt awake with a hard start. You shoot up, blinded by white lights that eventually shimmer down to a familsr room, your hideout. Your heart bursting a hundred miles an hour out of your chest. It was the feeling of shimmer running down your veins like a cold shower.

Instantly, you recognize your old partner, Kilo, rushing up to you from their seat in the back. Their hands grab yours, but you're even quicker to smack them away. "What t'hell! I was supposed ta-ugh die," you blabber out, spit flying in your jittery rage. Your hands grip your head of hair, your heart racing painfully.

"I heard about your dumb plan, and I came to save you, (y/n)! You had been laying there for God knows how long--" They say but you cut them off with a deadly glare, "Why are you mad? I saved you! Listen, God, you just need to calm down," they pleaded, burning their doe shaped brown eyes into your skull. Eyes you used to find allu ng, before they abandoned Smeech.

Smeech.

Dammit.

Did it really even matter anymore.

Dammit you can't fucking think straight.

How much shimmer did they use on you?

They reached again for you, and you smacked them harder, as hard as your jittery body could manage. They were as thick as a barn, burly and bearded, so your shove did nothing to them. But still, you powered up, barely making out of your bed before you knocked into your bedside table and cracking into your lamp.

As soon as you stood, your heart rate spiked, causing a brilliant gasp to leave your body. The kind of gasp they've only ever heard you release in bed. The kind of gasp that was filled in nostalgic ecstasy, the pain was so reminiscent of when Jinx--

Fuck.

No. Please God no.

"Are you okay," they asked. And with one look from them, you knew that they knew.

They knew.

And they were judging you with those pitiful eyes.

"Jinx did a number on you," they tried to whisper, but you seethed like a jackal.

"Jinx did nothing to me! I am normal! I am fine! I haven't changed," you screeched. Your face was warming, your heartbeat was painful, but memories of your last encounter flooded your brain.

You were going to die in the marvelously sinful hands of Jinx. But she spared you. It made every part of you tingle. You didn't notice when your partner sprang up to catch you, and you as hell didn't notice you falling forward. No, but what you did notice was the worry in their eyes. The worry in their deep masculine voice. And the devil horns springing out of their head.

They knew.

They knew and they were going to tell everyone.

"Get the fuck out of here, bastard!"

You yelled it with all your heart and soul.

And within seconds, you notice their heart crumble. Bleary brown eyes only complimented the flicker of guilt that panged you.

You just.

Needed them gone for good.

You collapsed moments after they left you, moments after the door quietly shut.

You were never going to see them again. They weren't just a partner they were your best friend.

And Jinx.

Jinx was brewing in your heart.

And you knew it then.

You were becoming something you never knew before.

⚗️

You'd imagine Jinx's surpise when the little runt she spared weeks ago came crawling deep onto Silco's old zone (now turned her streets), fully armed. What she thought was a foolish revenge battle turned into something else.

Sevika dropped you dead onto your knees before the desk in Silco's office. Your hands were bound behind your back, and Sevika had already stripped you of all the weapons you had. She walked up to the desk, where the back of Silco's chair faced you, and dropped all the weapons onto it. The daggers and guns flattered and shined in the light.

A dry, crackling laughter sparked into the air. A laughter you knew was hers. It made you tingle again. It made the bruises Sevika left you in all the more worth it.

You were shivering from withdrawals. Jinx withdrawals, adrenaline withdrawals, shimmer withdrawals. You needed her to make you experience that death spark again.

Please Jinx.

"Are you dumb or something," she asks. The chair finally spins to face you, her feet clashing against the table. Her face ridden with withheld rage. She blinks in disbelief with an agape mouth. She jolts forward, grabbing ome of your daggers and launches it towards your face. It narrowly dodges your eye and slices a thin scratch into your cheek.

You hiss and laugh.

It irrates her instantly. Her eye twitched. For the first time in forever, Jinx experienced the stress felt Silco once before. The stress of dealing with idiotic subordinates.

And for once. She didn't find it fucking funny.

"I spared you! But you come back with an even dumber plan. What? Did you think you could just waltz in here and slice me up," she asks. You laugh. She clenches her jaw. With an aggravated start, she jumps out of the chair, stomping on the desk as she slides off it in one quick athletic gesture. In seconds, she's on her feet crouching before you, squeezing chunks of your cheeks between her fingers. "What are you thinking," she spits.

Her grip is vice. It makes your eyes water. But you tingle and shiver all over.

"Mmh. Look at those pupils. You're on shimmer. Or- well, off it. What? Did the jitters make you think you could take me? Reclaim your honor," she says.

"M'hehe..mh," you giggle.

She bares her teeth. She drops your face and stands at break neck speed. Your head crashes to the floor, and you hear the familiar sound of a click.

"Everything about this is stupid and makes no sense. Your plan before was beautifully executed and thought out. So why... Why are you," she winces before she can finish her sentence and pinces her temples. You can hear Sevika cackle in the background. You peek up, staring up the barrel of a pistol. "Geez toots... I might get withdrawls next if you don't- I'dunno, say something," she says.

"Mmh... Jinx... Jus' just kill me... Jinx," you gasp out. Your nose aches, a perfect compliment to the ringing from your ribs from taking a robotic punch earlier. "Kill me... And it'll all be... like it was supposed to... Another number on the "anti" tally," you murmur. Not even you know what you're getting at. Why you're here.

Her heel touches your head. She's purposefully digging it into you. "Aah- haa," you shake.

Sevika gasps sharply, "Oh?" Her eyebrows quirk knowingly. Jinx turns to her, but Sevika merely smirks. "I'll leave you to it," Sevika hums, her shoulders slumping as she steps out. Jinxs eyes flicker with wilderment. Sevika lowered her guard. Totally.

They both knew you weren't a threat. But here, that small gesture confirmed a lot to Jinx. You were harmless, you didn't want to die, but you wanted to be around her. No. You wanted her to hurt you. She tests the waters. Jinx's muddy shoe pets down your head, its light not to hurt you. You buck and shiver again, blabbering out heedless.

No.

You didn't want her to hurt you.

When the realization dawned on her, a breathy cackle split the air. "Ooh! Oh god this is too good! What's that little runt," she squats right down next to you, flipping you onto your belly, "you want me to play with ya? Oh, daddy'll play with you toots."

"Wait- that's not what I what I w-want you to kill me! My honor! I lost it in battle, and i-it can only be claimed in--"

"Nn'haha! You really believe that? Oh god you're a riot! Say it. You want Jinxsy to touch you... And err... Ya'know! Take you to p-town. Play with your cunny?"

You felt an electric jolt sink to your clit. One strong enough to shut you up. Your eyes flicker to her crotch, where her legs were spread as she crouched.

"Ooh," she caught it immediately, "you want my cookie instead, eh?"

You gasped in horror.

"Or box? Is that what the kids call it nowadays? Box... Box... I always wonders why, but," she says as she pushes Silco's desk out the way and sits down in the chair, spreading her legs wide, "apparently! It's called a box cause you can stuff it! Myahaha! Ain't that something?"

You stare blissfully at her spread legs, painfully aware of your slick oozing.

She pats her thigh. "Well? What's the verdict? I'm not pulling my pants down till ya tell me ya' want it. Say it cute-like! Oh Jinx-jinx-jinx-jinx! I want your cookie wookie! Pleaase'z," she drags it out, saying it sing-songly to fuel your embarrassment.

You blabber in disbelief, "Buh," and gulp, "B-But why. Why are you letting me?" You sound like a shy child.

"Why dya' think I spared you? You're pretty hot. And... I liked being handsy with you. It felt good... Gooder than usual... Hah! Prolly cause your whorish, sensual aura stunk up the place. All that temp'TIT'ous-humbo-jumbo! N'ahaha... God you-"

"Please, Jinx," you whimper.

She returns, "Hey. I already told you. We're not unt--"

You squeak, "Let me... Eat it..."

"Huh? Is that how you ask -"

"Let me eat your cookie," you say. She gives you a bland look. "Uh," you gulp, "Please Jinxsy... Let me eat your- c-cookie. Wuh... Wookie."

She laughs, "Tehe, you got it dollface!"

this wasn't ever about smeech, was it?

⚗️

"Ooh... ff-fuck dollface," she mewls breathlessly. Your hands are still tied tight behind your back, balancing wobbly on your knees as you bury your face deep beneath Jinx's bare, pale, milky legs. Your nose is buried deep into her cunt, your tongue and lips viciously lapping at her clit. Twitching between sucking and tapping it. She was swollen already, a clear sign of her sexual negligence.

No, part of you is convinced she is a virgin. Jinx bucks into your mouth, gripping chunks of your hair. Her leg twitching, barely missing kicking your shoulder as it flies off the seat it was propped up on. She let's it slump over your shoulder. And you almost cried at how far her hole was now from your greedy lips.

You growl, "Jinx put your other leg on me... C-cant suck all of you like this."

"Uhh... Hmm," You're sure she was only half listening, but still, she lazily hunches down and stops her other leg on your shoulder. She adjusts herself and leans slouches downward more, sitting on her upper ass and pushing her cunt straight onto your face in the process.

You snuck in deep sniffs, the smell balanced, tart, and salty. You slurp up her folds into your lips, pulling and letting them slip out between your lips. She hisses and mewls delightfully, an airy cackle leaving her lips. She taps your head with two fingers and bobs her head rhythmically, a delighted hum squeaking from her lips. You giggle humored, licking a stripe up her, slowing down to enjoy the moment.

She's staring deep into your eyes, grinding against your flat tongue, slowly matching your rhythm. Your rhythm was closely following the one she hummed and drummed on you.

It was odd, how calm it all suddenly became. How you couldn't seem to look away. You wanted to please her so bad.

A ferocious shiver sparked down you again. You locked in, cupping her clit in your lips, suckling and tapping against it. You buried yourself into her, erratic and fanatic, slurping all of her like it was your last dinner. She squeaks and bucks into your mouth at the sharp change, bowling out her moans. "Aah- ff... Oohh, dollface-ugh," she whines. Her arms fall out, one landing on her forehead, her index and thumb propped up on it, rolling her head back into the chairs cushions.

Her bucking became erratic, her moans spiking, her grip on herself becoming undone. As she reaches with her free hand again to grab chunks of your hair at the root. Her cunt is pink and pale, littered with pretty hair. But your bullying turned it a vulgar shade of red. A red you'd wear on your lips any day.

"Aah! Ah! Aaa-mmgh," she barks out. Her thighs clench vice around your neck, her leg spasming before finally, "Oouh," she janks your head away from her pussy, gasping and waning in the chair.

Her eyes rolled back, while senseless blabbering drooled out her lips. "Mmht... D-Dollface," she sighs blissfully.

"It's (y/n)," you murmur and lean back in to peck at her swollen, ruined pussy.

"(Y-Y/n)?" She gulps, her eyes never returning from their blissful heaven beneath her eyelids. "Mmh yeah... (y/n)," she mumbles, half listening. She sighs after a few seconds, finally looking down at you and- smiling? It was a soft one, geninue and pure.

She asks, "What else can you do?"

"Mmh... I want... to feel good too," you murmur still pecking her pussy and inner thighs.

"Hmmmrr.... Alright. Let's get you fingered up."

"N-No... At the same time as you... Let's grind on our thighs... er like how they do in those... Brothels."

"Ooh what? You mean scissoring? Ha, is this your first time with a woman," she barks a laugh.

"Is this your first time ever, Jinx?"

"Hey," she commands, her face twitches. She shoved your face back into her lips. "Don't get smart with me. You're still my doll," she hums.

"M'forgive me," you mumble out, with pussy between your lips. That was all the answer you need. You slowly begin to suckle her again, hearing her breathy moans pour in.

"Mmh yeah... Let's go to my room..."

⚗️

😁

#arcane #jinx arcane #jinx #jinx x reader #jinx x y/n #jinx x you #league of legends #jinx league of legends #jinx lol #smut #arcane fanfic #arcane fic #jinx fanfic

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chocsra · 10 months ago

Note

yknow tht chuuyas friend got killed during the dragon head conflicts, right?(source dead apple) yea, wht if reader was one of them. letter fics reader confessing her love to chuuya and him finding it after she died.

"Tainted With Sin, Weakness Comes From Love."

16! Chuuya x implied fem! reader

summary: chuuya finds your letters to him after your death in the dragon head conflict

content: angst, heavy mentions of death, swearing

There, the boy remained victorious.

Others would furrow their brows, feel their heart clench into an impending drop. The utter and impeccable fear of such a small body, a young boy who yearned for nothing but a reason - a purpose, holding such power. He was as if he was sculpted by a passionate artist, a woman who presented herself as a 'mother' - soft orange locks, the ever glow of his skin that never left his face, and a harmonic assortment of features, those features that made him special. A child who was stringed together like a melodic harp by a mother is every child, and that was Nakahara Chuuya. He too, was a child.

At least, he felt like one.

"Chuuya," A tall, ginger woman speaks solemnly, clasping her hands together elegantly, as always. "here - [Y/N]'s stuff." Kouyou passes a large cardboard box to the boy; items like notebooks, pens, photos, and sticky notes. It had only been 14 days after the Dragon Head Conflict, and yet, the world's lost all sense of art: skies have been less blue, birds more or so melodically sing mantras of sorrow, rather than blissful chirps. Maybe it was because of his comrades who died, maybe it's because you were one of them, or maybe, it's his brain using his frustration with the world against him. In this box, consider it pandora's box of humanity - perhaps the sight alone brightened the sky, awakened the birds. You existed, and so, he longs to feel your existence once more. Be it through letters.

Chuuya runs his fingers along a folder of letters you've written. He'll close his eyes and pretend it's your skin - he'll close his eyes and make out each indent of each thought, each question you held for the universe on that paper.

Dear Chuuya,

Happy Birthday! You finally turned 16, loser. You're all over the Port Mafia, you know? Double Black is so goddamn popular I've been approached by people I don't know asking if we're friends. So ahem, here are my birthday wishes for my boy best friend - the only one I share my gossip to that isn't a girl.

You get taller.

You find out what the hell happened before you were 8.

A girl would finally like you or something - rare, I know.

You finally get a dog. PLEASE shut up about it :)

Thank you for being my friend, even though you lose your shit when we play UNO with Albatross. Get good, kid.

Sincerely,

- [Y/N].

The redhead can practically feel himself scoffing, even though it was more like a chuckle, before sealing the letter once again; a small smile tugging on his lips even though he finds himself wiping a bit of tears from his cheeks.

"Why did it have to be you?.." Chuuya chuckles, swallowing thickly to cover the strain of tears spilling out. Crystal tears were never a threat to the boy - once again, such things like a heart doesn't suit him - yet, he finds it ironic. Maybe you had it all along.

The boy, molded by the hands of divinity, stringed together by an otherworldly being, was nothing divine. Nakahara Chuuya reigned from torture, yearned for retribution, and became an artist - one acquired dazzlingly with revenge. He took the vessel of himself he loathed and despised it with his entire being. Arahabaki was no divine being, nor a mother who lovingly caressed and loved with dainty hands. He was a monster, Chuuya was too. But from the rippling shackles he's restrained himself to, there was an angel, sacred and divine, who chided him for his hatred, his sorrows, his regrets. You too, knew how it was like to lose, to betray and be betrayed, and yet, you would never bring those to him again, but it seems once again, you've failed.

You were an angel, his angel, a light in the sky that he never failed to follow. And yet, you too fell from heaven's gate. Chuuya, who has been by your side for years, never dare touch you - Nakahara Chuuya may taint you with his sin, ruin the wings that guide him through the light. But shit, as an artist of revenge - he'll repaint it with regret.

To grow from a child, child of hatred to man of soul, touch will remold him to his feet. Rebuke his despondency. Chuuya regrets, for his only reminder of your skin was your life slipping through his fingers like ash.

To be Chuuya's angel was to lace his hair in between your words.

To be Chuuya's angel meant you were going to be immortalized.

To be Chuuya's angel meant that was only going to happen once he's lost you.

Yet he still flips the page.

Dear Chuuya,

I like you.

I thought love was foolish. A four letter word, and one syllable of absolute bullshit. Love is only a fixation in TV shows and movies. Love is a weakness, and contrary to popular belief - love cannot save you.

But you saved me. Countless of times.

The first being when I botched an assignment miserably. I was about to sacrifice myself before you kicked all the enemies' asses! You even took the blame for me.

The second was when I ate too much during a celebration and you had to bring me home safely.

The third was when you didn't say anything after I farted in a closed elevator.

Maybe you're stronger than love, then. You're Chuuya Nakahara, the strongest ability user in the world. But, even if I fell for you - it's not because of your strength, or protection. I genuinely like you, Nakahara Chuuya, not the strongest ability user, but the boy who sought a past, the boy who longs for a wine collection, the boy who cries watching dog movies, the boy who thinks chokers are a fashion statement.

Don't think because you define yourself as Arahabaki I will too. You're so much more than that.

But eh, who cares anyway, its not like you know how to read or write.

Love,

- [Y/N].

The boy who sought a past, felt himself shatter, because now he actually he had one. A best friend of his memories. An angel only in his dreams. A desire he could only do so much but reminisce. But contradictory to your previous statement, Nakahara Chuuya could read, even write now.

All because you taught him.

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arlana-likes-to-write · 1 month ago

Text

Visiting Hours by Ed Sheeran

Summary: It has been a year since you lost the love of your life. How were going to live in a world with her gone and a daughter to raise?

Warning: Cannon character deaths (Tony, Natasha, Loki, Vision), Sam is the new Captain America, drinking, grief, survivor's guilt, reader is Wanda and Pietro's older sister who has similar powers to Wanda, angst, sort of happy ending??

Note: At the moment, I do know have a part 2 planned.

Word Count: 3.4K

Today was not a good day. When you flipped the calendar from September to October, you dreaded today. But you put on a brave face so your daughter wouldn’t see her mommy upset. You were thankful your sister could watch her niece for the night. Today, you wanted to be alone, where you could let your mask fall and grieve. One year ago today, you lost the love of your life so the rest of your family could return. It felt so unfair that the universe put you in this position. You wanted to scream and cry until your throat went raw. But you couldn’t. You were so numb to it all. How were you expected to raise your daughter without your other half?

You sat on your bedroom floor, resting your back against your bed. There was a half-opened bottle of vodka that you were sipping on the moment Wanda picked up your daughter. That could explain the numbness you were feeling. Your hands shook as you held your phone, rereading the text messages you sent back and forth. You couldn’t delete them or the voicemails, but you weren’t ready to hear her voice again. Even though you missed every pet name she called you or every time she told you, she loved you.

She loved you. She loved you.

It was the mantra that you kept replaying over and over again. But if Natasha loved you so much, why did she leave? Sighing, your phone began to ring. “Yes?” You answered.

“Just checking in on you, kid,” Clint said.

“I’m fine.”

“How much have you had to drink?”

“None of your fucking business,” you snapped. “Besides, Delilah isn’t here.” The older archer sighed, and you felt one of his fatherly talks coming.

“Look, I know-”

“Barton,” you cut him off, feeling a pressure that began to build at the base of your skull. “I don’t want to talk. I want to sit here, drink, and be sad because I can’t do that every other day. So please, leave me alone.” Your jaw clenched, and each word was laced with your native accent.

“Okay,” he sounded defeated. “Call me if you change your mind.” You hung up the phone. Closing your eyes, you pushed the palms of your hands to your eyes.

“Breathe,” you mumbled. “Breathe.” Your powers were connected to your emotions. You lost control when Pietro was killed and when you faced Thanos a second time. There was so much anger and grief building inside you that it almost consumed you. For Pietro's death, you had to focus on Wanda, and Natasha pulled you out of the darkness. When the battle was done, it was Delilah. She wasn’t born yet, but we knew she was there. The little girl, a perfect blend of you and Natasha, was the only light you saw. The only reason you kept going.

‘It’s okay, moya lyubov’ (my love), it’s okay,’ you heard Natasha’s voice echoing inside your head. You shook your head. You could almost feel her hand on your shoulder, pulling you into her arms to help you regulate your breathing.

“No,” you pleaded. “Please go away. You aren’t here. You are gone.” Gone. Dead. She wasn’t coming back.

‘I’m right here, baby,’ Natasha whispered. ‘Join me.’ You were becoming too weak to resist it. Suddenly, your bedroom door burst open, and your sister was standing there.

“Where is-”

“She’s safe,” she said quickly, pulling you into her arms. “I need you to focus on me. Right here. Do you feel my heart?” You moved your hand to her chest and felt her heart. It was steady, strong, and real.

“Wands,” you gasped for air. “I can’t.” The warmth of your sister’s arms as she rocked you back and forth was helping, but the pull was stronger.

‘Come on, darling,’ Natasha whispered. ‘Come with me.’ Wanda began to hum a Sokovian lullaby that your mother used to sing to drown out the sound of the bombs.

“We’ve been waiting for you. Now you are here. More perfect than I imagined…”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“Where is my daughter?” you asked when Wanda returned from your kitchen. She held a cup of tea in her hands. When you refused to take it and sat on your bed, she placed it on the side table.

“She’s with Pepper. I would have been here sooner but wanted to ensure she was settled.”

“How did you know?” She smiled, took one of your hands, and laced your fingers together.

“Call it twin intuition,” you scuffed, looking away from her but keeping your hands together.

“We aren’t twins,” you were two years older than Wanda and Pietro and were so excited when your mom told you she was pregnant. It was even better when she gave birth to twins. You made it your mission to protect them and seemed to fail at every step. They followed you to HYDRA; you couldn’t stop Pietro's death, and then you and Wanda were thrown into the RAFT. You couldn’t stop Thanks from snapping half of the Earth’s population, and your sister was ripped from you. All this power, and you couldn’t protect those that mattered.

“I can’t do this,” you whispered. “It hurts too much.” Wanda squeezed your hand, fearing you’d slip away from her. “I want her back.”

“I know you do,” Wanda said. “But the world your mind is trying to bring you to isn’t real. She’s gone.” You hated that she was right. That was your power. You could go into the minds of others and bring their greatest wishes and desires to ‘life.’ You made them believe they got their dream job or their loved ones returned from the dead. People have gone mad because of your influence.

“I wish heaven had visiting hours,” you whispered and looked at Wanda’s hand that held yours. “So I could ask for advice. Because I don’t know how to raise her,” Wanda was quiet as she let what you said to sink into her. “I’d go to see Mom, Dad, and Pietro and have them meet Delilah.” Wanda’s face softened at your confession. “I’d ask if I could bring them home, but they wouldn’t let me. So I’d sit till they close and let my worries disappear.” Your sister sighed.

“They’d want you to live life the way they taught us because it’s not a goodbye. It’s a till we meet again.” It was unfair how cruel life was to you and your sister. She lost Vision. You lost Natasha.

“What is grief?” you whispered. “If not love persevering,” you quoted the man she loved. Wanda let out a breathless laugh and wiped away a tear with her free hand.

“I miss him too,” she said. “So much.” You were blinded by your grief and failed to realize how much this day must hurt for everyone.

“Come here,” you said, pulling your sister into your arms. Her head was buried into your shirt, and she let out a few more tears.

Sometimes, you wonder if your family is cruised. Maybe centuries ago, your ancestors angered a god, and now you are facing the consequences of their actions. All you want is for your family to be together and safe.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You woke up to the smell of bacon and fresh coffee. The way your stomach growled made you realize how hungry you were, but leaving your bed sounded awful. Then you heard Wanda’s voice. "I know, Lala,” she cooed to your daughter. “Your mom can’t say no to my cooking, so she’ll be out soon.” Your daughter’s babbles and giggles pulled you out of bed. The annoying alarm clock read that it was 11:36. Shit. You hadn’t slept in like this in a long time.

Sitting up, you stretched your arms above your head and listened to the sound your bones made. The first stop was brushing your teeth and washing your face in the bathroom. Then you changed out of the clothes you fell asleep in and walked into the kitchen. Delilah was you first. Her legs started to kick, and you were thankful the high chair was stable. You gasped and picked her up with ease.

“There is my beautiful girl,” you smothered her cheeks with kisses. “I missed you. I missed you.” Wanda laughed from her spot on the stove.

“See, told you, sunshine,” you smiled at using your native language. “She can’t resist my cookie.” You used your powers to pinch her sides and smirked at her help.

“Cheeky witch,” you teased. You knew she would retaliate if you weren’t carrying Delilah. “Wands,” she looked over her shoulder. “Thank you. For everything.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Once breakfast was eaten and the dishes were put away, you were sitting on the couch while Delilah played on the jungle-themed play mat that Clint had gifted her. Her hands reached for the hanging elephant. Her laughter made you smile as she touched it. Soon, an ache filled your heart. You took out our phone, captured a video of your daughter, and sent it to Clint. A response was immediate. ‘She’s gotten so big.’ Followed by another text, ‘We need to get together soon.’ It was a simple statement but filled your heart with guilt.

You didn’t intend to cut off the team, former and current members, once your daughter was born. They all reminded you of what was. ‘How about I come to you? I bet D would love the farm,’ you hit send.

You loved the Barton homestead, too. It was quiet and peaceful, and it became your second home. It was coming up on 6 years since the last time you stepped foot in Iowa. “Can I ask you something?” You ignored your phone buzzing in favor of taking the mug from Wanda. “Are you going this weekend?” It took a moment for you to realize what she was asking about. Then it hit you.

Honestly, you forgot about it. The email from Sam was left unread in your inbox. The team’s new leader invited current and old members to a party at the brand-new compound. A celebrated, he called it in the email. In some way, it was a celebration. You won the fight but lost Natasha and Tony. “Are you going?” You countered.

“Answering a question with a question is a cheap shot,” Wanda said. “But maybe,” she shrugged and sipped her coffee. “It would be nice to see everyone.” It would be, but you weren’t sure if you were strong enough to see everyone. However, you wanted Delilah to grow up with her aunts and uncles.

That was the plan. You and Natasha would retire, find a property close to the Avengers, and build a family. You wanted a big backyard for your dogs and kids to run around. On nice summer days, you could have barbecues. You saw yourself asking Clint to help Natasha build a jungle gym set for the kids, bringing them lemonade to help cool them off in the summer sun. But that was all a dream, a fantasy. The New York City apartment you lived in was home for you and your daughter.

“Maybe,” you answered. You knew Natasha would have hated how isolated you became. “Yeah,” you gave in. “I’ll go as long as you are there.”

Delete Created with Sketch.

It was a bad idea. As soon as you got out of the car with Delilah on your hip, anxiety and dread filled your stomach. Luckily, Wanda drove with you. The squeals of your daughter distracted you. “Hey,” you looked at your sister. “Sam told me you have a room here fully equipped for Delilah. So if you need a minute, you can go there,” you made a mental note to thank the man. He was busy being Captain America and trying to make this place comfortable for you.

“Let’s do this.” The party was in full swing when you and Wanda stepped out of the elevator. A knot was still in your stomach, but it loosened when you saw your family.

“There is my niece!” Clint was the first to see you arrive and swooped Delilah out of your arms. The man covered her face with kisses. Her squeals were getting the attention of the rest of the party. Thankfully, Laura was the only one to come over and join her husband.

“She’s getting so big,” she cooed, tickling her belly. You were surprised how easily Delilah warmed up to people. Maybe she knew how important these people were to you.

“I know,” you felt Wanda squeeze your shoulder, and you nodded as she walked into the party. “I want her to slow down.” Clint passed your daughter to Laura and pulled you into a hug. You were surprised how easily your body slumped against him.

“How are you, kid?” You let out a shaky breath.

“Okay,” you answered. “Just taking it day by day.” You felt him nod and kissed the side of your head.

“That’s the best we can do,” he admitted. “Come on. Let’s try to enjoy ourselves.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

At this rate, you only held your daughter when you entered the party. While it was nice to have a break, you were anxious whenever she was out of sight. So you sat in a chair while Pepper was holding her. Your sister was by her side with Morgan in her arms. You knew she wanted kids, but you weren’t sure what her plan was with Vision gone. Sighing, you sipped on your drink. You felt it. The lingering sensation of your powers trying to take over. You dug your nails into your thigh. Wanda glanced at you, a question of concern on her face, but you gave her a thumbs up. You were fine. You weren’t going to ruin her night. “Lady Maximoff,” you turned to see the God of Thunder.

“Thor,” you smiled, stood up, and hugged the man. He looked much better than the last time you saw him. The God was off-world when Delilah was born. “How are you?”

“Better,” he sat next to you. “My time with the Guardians did me well.” You were happy for him, indeed. For the five years of the Blip, he was overcome with his grief. It was understandable when he watched his brother die for those stupid stones. “How are you? I have yet to meet your little one.” You smiled.

“Good luck trying to get to her,” you teased, ignoring his question. “She’s a popular girl.”

“She looks so much like Natasha,” your breath hitched in your throat at the mention of your partner. You looked at the God as he stared ahead, watching the scene fold before him. Morgan was now on Wanda’s lap while your sister helped her hold Delilah. You could see Natasha and Tony over with them if you thought about it. Maybe Thor was imagining Loki. “Sorry,” he finally spoke. “I’ll see you again tonight. I am going to make my rounds.” Thor stood up and left you alone before you could tell him his apology wasn’t needed. Instead, the God walked over to Sam, Rhodey, and Bruce.

It felt stronger now. The pressure was building at the back of your skull. You needed to escape, a quiet moment without feeling everyone’s grief. It was suffocating. Standing up, you walked to the bathroom and closed and locked the door behind you.

Your hands gripped the sink as you closed your eyes. Each breath was shaky that you let out. Everything hurt. For a place of celebration, everyone’s thoughts were filled with those who weren’t there. You could feel Pepper’s loneliness, Clint’s guilt, and the weight of the pressure on Sam’s shoulders. “Shit,” you turned the water on cold and splashed the water onto your face.

‘Hi, detka,’ You looked in the mirror and saw Natasha behind you. She looked like she did when she returned from a morning workout. Her red hair was pulled back into a braid and she was wearing black leggings with a matching sports bra.

“Go away,” you told her. Natasha frowned.

‘Why would I? You want me here,’ you shook your head and dried your face with the towel.

“Not like this,” you admitted. She moved closer until her front was pressed against your back. It was pathetic how easily it was to lean against her. A soft chuckle rumbled through her chest.

‘See,’ her lips traveled up and down your neck. ‘You can bring us all back together. Nice and safe. Just how we dreamt it.’ It felt so easy to sub-come to it; the warmth and safety she provided. It happened subconsciously, the way your fingers began to glow. Natasha chuckled. ‘Good girl,’ she encouraged. ‘Almost there.’

Even the knocking and banging on the door couldn’t pull you out of it. You could give them everyone back - Natasha, Vision, Steve, Loki, Tony. It hurt and burned as you felt their grief overpower you. ‘Good,’ Natasha whispered. ‘Let go. I got you.’ Her arms kept you standing as you screamed, and a pulse of your powers left your body.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The movement of the bed woke you up. Your eyes fluttered open. Even with your vision blurred with sleep, you saw Natasha climbing into bed with Delilah. “Sorry, dorogoy,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to wake you. I think our girl wanted some morning cuddles.” You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes. You weren’t sure if it was Natasha or your daughter that wanted extra cuddles. Your wife found it impossible to say no to Delilah, almost claiming your daughter had your eyes, and it was hard for her to say no to you, too. The new one-year-old was fast asleep on your wife’s chest.

“It’s fine,” you said, sitting up slightly and snuggling closer to her. With her free arm, Natasha pulled you closer to her. “We have to get up soon,” you mumbled. It’s a busy day today.” Natasha hummed and kissed the top of your head.

“Yes, we do. We have to celebrate this little one. Wanda said she and Vision would be here around noon to help set up,” you nodded. You were hoping to have everything done by then. You loved your sister, but sometimes, she stressed you out when it came to planning parties. Pietro wasn’t much better, but he said he was going to be late. “I can’t believe she’s one,” you noticed the emotional hitch in her voice.

“She’s growing up so fast,” you added, pushing a tear that fell down her green eyes. “What’s wrong, baby?”

“Do you want to have another one?” She asked, drawing her eyes away from Delilah to look at you. It was an idea you weren’t against, especially with Natasha taking a step back from the business. She was out of town and missed Delilah’s birth.

“Yeah,” you shrugged. “Not against it.” You ran her hand over Delilah’s back. She would make a great older sister, you knew it. Looking back at your wife, her green eyes darkened. “After we celebrate our first child, you horn dog,” you gently slapped her arm. “Can you start breakfast while I shower?” You stole a kiss, stood up before she could respond.

“Such a tease,” she mumbled when you closed the bathroom door. You loved your little family and were excited for it to grow.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

After you showered, you found your family in the kitchen. Delilah picked apart the pancakes while Natasha made breakfast for you and her. The phone began to ring, disrupting the peaceful morning. “I got it,” you told Natasha as she wiped her hands to pick up the phone. You kissed Delilah on the cheek before answering the phone. “Hello, Romanoff residence,” it was mostly static. You could make out a voice trying to speak, but you couldn’t hear them. “I’m sorry. I can’t hear you; you may want to try calling back.” More static answered.

Suddenly, the voice became more evident over the static. “Hello-,” Bzzz. “SWORD-,” Bzzz. “Let them go." Bzzz. The pounding in your heart increased.

“I’m sorry you have the wrong number. Goodbye.” You hung up quickly. With your hands shaking, you walked over to Natasha and hugged her from behind. You placed her hand on her heart and felt the organ beat.

“Everything alright? Who was on the phone?”

“Prank call,” you answered. “I just missed you.” You felt her chuckle, and your mind began to race, so you missed her joke about joining you in the shower. This was real. She was alive and safe. No one was going to take your family away again.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x maximoff!reader #black widow one shot #black widow imagine #natasha romanoff one shot #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff x y/n

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lua-magic · 1 year ago

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Combination of the planets with Sun or planets aspecting Sun and your personality.

Sun with Mercury: This is a combination of great success, name and fame as mercury being prince is now under the influence of King SUN hence, imbibe the character of the sun.

Person would love to earn respect and be careful about his Ego. He/ she earns a lot of name and fame in his life time and is a true King.

He/she loves to read, write and teaching. Love to be in spotlight and has good administrator skills.

Person would be highly skilful, great and communicator. Person would be helpful and love to be on top of game all the time.

They could have a dry sense of humour and serious attitude towards life.

Sun with Venus. Highly seductive, lustful, and has high sexual energy. He/she could face financial problems and problems in relationship as well. Usually, would be good in arts, crafts, music and dancing. Venus is eyes and there could be problems related to eyes as well. He/ she usually have beautiful eyes and innocent face but entirely different personality. Usually, these people have lot of hidden talents and emotions which they don’t express. They have attractive personality and attracts opposite sex easily towards them. They good in flirting, sarcasm and are quite dramatic. 😅

Sun with Mars. Great combination, gives lot bravery and fighting spirit. He/she is a good leadership quality. It is like Mars the soldier has got support of the Sun the king. Good for one who wants to join Army or police.

Confident, self respect, ego, leadership, bravery, high on energy and discipline comes naturally to the person.

Unlike Mars and Rahu( North Node) their energy is quite regulated and stable.

Sun with Jupiter: People with this combination alwys feel the presence of divine protection around them and they often get the help of divine as well in critical situation. Some kind of supernatural power always protects, support and guide them.

People with this combination are great mediators, and spiritual.

Sometimes, they could sense the energy around them and are empathetic and sensitive to energies hence, most of the time when they visit any holy place irrespective of their religion they feel connection to the superconcious immediately.

They love to follow rules and rituals of their religion and are highly disciplined if not afflicted by malefic planets.

Sun with Saturn. People with this combination are high in masculine energy and usually hard worker. They could work for or with the government. They could share bitter and sweet relationship with their father probably frequent fights or separation from father. This combination also gives problems with colleagues and bosses.

They love to work for the masses and with the masses as well. They have good leadership qualities and believe in team work. They work with large group of people and are usually unbiased in their approach. They love to treat everyone equally and make great employee as well as boss.

These people also could work with or for underprivileged and for the outcaste.

Sun with South Node. Good combination for name, fame and success. Have good leadership qualities and least expectations from their bosses and from their kids as well.

They would do most of the work for their bosses and for the company without expecting anything in return.

They don’t demand or expect any position and are black sheep in their company who does all the work silently without any Ego. They are spiritual and have good understanding of Mantras and deep interest in occult and spirit realm.

They are attached to their father a lot and fathers had played major role in shaping their personality.

Sun with North Node: People with combination would be highly fascinated with name, fame, and success. They have desire to reach on top and are lustful and aggressive. These people would be spiritual but egoic and could face problems from their bosses and also from their father. Their relationship with father or father like figures are mostly karmic, though they love their father they won’t get full support and love back from them. They might suffer from laziness and low confidence. They might get blamed easily and has habit of lying or stealing.

They have good interest in occult and spirit world and are great mediators. People with this combination has unique personality, one personality that that they show and other that is always hidden from the society. People with such combination usually don’t like to follow man made rules and make their own rules. They are rebellion and detached from their family and don’t follow the footsteps of the family.

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#spirituality #occult #astro community #astrology #astro notes #astro observations

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tokoyamisstuff · 3 days ago

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gn! Reader I no warnings I not proofread | can be read platonic and romantic

Alucard

The two of you go way back, with him being the one who turned you in the first place. Maybe that's the reason it felt like a personal insult to him that you're wasting your powers on literal prey.

For ages he's repeatedly both scolded and taunted you about this contradiction - especially since he had to save you countless times when the humans you initially helped would turn on you.

Eventually you decided to become a traveler, aiding people in need wherever fate brings you. Humans tend to find out you're not one of them if you remain stationary for too long, so there wasn't really another option.

Since the invisible bond with your master preserves, you were always connected even when far apart. Truth be told, it was entertaining to watch your pathetic little attempt at keeping some sort of humanity from a distance - but he still constantly whined about you visiting him too rarely these days.

It's not until he got wind of a powerful vampire slayer making his way towards a small village you resided in, that your paths would cross again. But instead of having to step in he witnessed all of the townsfolk defending you against the attacker, even though they were aware of your demonic origins.

That experience changed his opinions on mankind drastically. In a way you made him realize that all vampires inevitably tied to mortals and in order to survive, you need to coexist one way or the other. Only because of you he started respecting them enough that his first encounter with the Hellsing organization turned out like it did.

Nowadays he's still working up the courage to ask you to join their ranks as well, but we all know he's too proud to admit his misjudgement so easily. Will come around eventually, though.

Anderson

Usually his mantra is 'kill first, ask later', but when he first met you, it was impossible to fight since you were surrounded by so many children.

He's seen horrible things over the years that made him dread what you were planning to do to those innocent kids, determined to save them from your fangs. But when he secretly followed to your lair far on the outskirts of the town, he interrupted a perfectly wholesome moment of you tending to the orphans you were fostering.

The children vehemently refused to get away from you, clinging to and pleading for your life. After doing some digging amongst the townsfolk he learned that over the years you've spent here, not a single child in your care went missing. Quite the opposite, they are all flourishing. Much to his surprise the whole town even seems to be aware of what you are, but still considered you one of them.

Of course his deeply ingrained hate doesn't suddenly disappear, but this is such a huge clash of his two worlds that he can't bring himself to kill you in front of the children that love you so dearly.

So he waited, wary for you to slip up, find a moment of carelessnes to reveal your true nature to him. But that moment never came, your kind actions going against everything he thought to know about your filthy kind. And the longer he's among you, the more his aversion gets replaced by mutual admiration.

At some point he'll insist you and the children live with him at the orphanage incognito, under the pretense of surveilance or research purposes - but we all know what this truly is about

#hellsing #hellsing ultimate #alucard #alexander anderson #alucard x reader #alexander anderson x reader #reader insert #writing #headcanon

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2qties · 4 months ago

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❝ 𝙈𝙄𝘿𝙉𝙄𝙂𝙃𝙏 𝘿𝙄𝙎𝘾𝙊𝙑𝙀𝙍𝙄𝙀𝙎 ❞

KOKUSHIBO X CHILD! READER

⋆°.☾⋆.ೃ࿔*:⋆ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋆⭒˚.⋆🪐 ⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆

🪐 : ❝ first post on this page lesgooo. lost all my contacts nd stuff on the old one plus i ain't post much there after like a year so here we are on a fresh new page. no tw for this, just a lost kid nd a dangerous demon ❞

⋆°.☾⋆.ೃ࿔*:⋆ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋆⭒˚.⋆🪐 ⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆

"where am i now..?" you mutter with a strong sense of unease. how long has it been since the festival began? how long has it been since you stepped foot into the forest? how long has it been since you got lost? the moon shone over you, the vast endless forest crawling with creatures, potentially some that one could not comprehend.

separated from your family or even an adult that could help you on a night like this strikes terror into you.

the lush green forest that sparkled with morning dew and sang with the chorus of birds was a realm of enchantment, a vivid tapestry of life and light. yet, as the sun dipped below the horizon and shadows lengthened, that same forest transformed into a realm of spectral mystery.

the moonlight filtered through the dense canopy, casting eerie, flickering patterns on the forest floor, where every rustle of leaves seemed to whisper secrets from ancient times. the once-inviting trails now twisted into labyrinthine paths of uncertainty, the scent of damp earth mingling with the faint, haunting calls of nocturnal creatures.

the air, cool and heavy with the promise of the unknown, wrapped around you like a shroud, and the towering trees, now dark sentinels, loomed over you, their branches intertwining above like the vaulted ceiling of a forgotten cathedral.

each step you took resonated with the ghostly echoes of your heartbeat, and you could almost feel the forest itself watching, waiting, as if it held within its depths the very essence of nature’s shadowed beauty and timeless enigma.

crunch.

the sounds the leaves made under your fee-

crunch.

that wasn't you.

your soft foot steps began to accelerate, not taking any chances of the creature- person- whatever it was behind you. the thing behind you didn't speed up but you did until you began to speed into a full dash, your lungs tightening in your chest as your adrenaline messed up your way of reacting.

somewhere to hide.. somewhere to hide..!

your mind chanted as if a mantra. where were you even going to hide?

it was a horrible choice to chased down a bunny into the forest, why did it seem right at the time?

time seemed to slow down and before you knew it, you were yanked and thrown across someone's shoulder. you were about let out a shriek of horror before your position was changed into being held in the arms of this stranger.

and staring up at this stranger was an even worse choice. he wasn't grotesque but he did strike terror.

under the ethereal glow of the full moon, the man's visage was both mesmerizing and terrifying. the moonlight highlighted the stark contrast of his six eyes, each pair aligned symmetrically. they glowed with a chilling, otherworldly light, their irises a vivid red-yellow that seemed to pierce through the very soul of any who dared meet his gaze. each eye held a different emotion: a mixture of calm, fury, wisdom, and a haunting gleam.

his hair cascaded down his back in waves of deep, midnight black. the strands glimmered in the moonlight, as if woven from shadows themselves. his hair moved with a life of its own, subtly swaying with the breeze, creating an almost hypnotic effect. the dark locks framed his face perfectly, emphasizing the sharp angles of his jaw and the intensity of his multiple eyes.

his aura under the moonlight was a palpable presence, a blend of ancient power and malevolent elegance. it radiated an overwhelming sense of dominance and authority, making the air around him feel heavy and thick. the coldness of his aura seeped into the surroundings, causing the temperature to drop slightly, the chill biting at the skin of any who ventured too close.

yet, no matter all this, he was still a stranger. some person you never knew, grabbing you and taking you away so you began to struggle. some effort was done as he did have some sort of annoyance on his face.

"would you stop that ? "

"let me go! let me go now ! "

"i'm trying to take you home, you fool . "

home ?

"how do you even know where i live , you creep ! leave me alone !"

"do you want to see your guardians or not."

"go away!"

and suddenly, you were on the floor again, dropped onto your butt. the mysterious figure glared down at you, not showing a sign of expression on his face, his annoyance was there.. maybe, you couldn't tell.

"go on and find your parents on your own."

he spoke before walking off and vanishing through thin air, as if teleportation. it made you gasp. not only did you miss your chance of finding your parents, your butt hurt. and what was that thing? six eyes? had you being lost driven you mad?

you stood up and dusted your clothing off before looking ahead.

the path looked different now, as if the tree branches had opened up just enough to let the moon glimmer softly onto the winding trail. if you squinted hard enough, you could see it—a light, faint yet unmistakably there. it wasn't the silvery glow of the moon but an orange light, flickering and warm.

that could only mean one thing: the festival was there, and soon, you would be found. the air buzzed with the distant hum of celebration, the mingling scents of roasted chestnuts and spiced cider wafting through the trees, guiding you toward the heart of the revelry.

the flickering light danced invitingly, promising warmth and the joy of reunion amidst the forest's nocturnal embrace.

you didn't even skip a beat as you began running down the trail, the thought of the man you had seen not lingering on you anymore. you just wanted to be home. just wanted to see your family.

strong wind whizzed behind your back and couldn't help but stare at your right, seeing something out the corner of your eye near the moon. and there he was.

the man, looking down at you with a solemn expression, just jerking his head in the direction you were meant to go.

as if meant for your safe arrival, you could have sworn the moonlight illuminating your way back dimmed down the second you were out.

⋆°.☾⋆.ೃ࿔*:⋆ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋆⭒˚.⋆🪐 ⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆

🪐 : ❝ so tired bro don't pull all-nighters nd get your rest unlike me cs ik damn well imma sleep in till like 8 pm it's 7:50 am alr nd i got no shut eye fr 🙅🏽‍♀️ imma go eat cs im starving then im sleepin buh bye ❞

⋆°.☾⋆.ೃ࿔*:⋆ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋆⭒˚.⋆🪐 ⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆

#kokushibo #kny #kny x reader #demon slayer #demon slayer x reader #first post #Spotify #🪐tasha

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hum-suffer · 4 months ago

Text

Devout

Bheem has always been a devout man.

He is the one who takes Sahadev to the nearest Mahadev temple in the forest, built by some anonymous and obscure person. Bheem had to walk several miles in several different directions everyday for a week before he found the temple. It's abandoned, and Bheem spends another day cleaning it up while everyone else goes about their tasks. The next day, when he takes Sahadev there and they're both sitting down in front of the Shivling, Bheem stares at Sahadev as his youngest brother mutters mantras and chants, almost shaking. Sahadev's skin flushes red and Bheem, he doesn't know what else to do. He uses the water meant for Shiva Abhishek and splashes it on Sahadev.

Nakul has always loved spring— he has been a connoisseur of everything regarding nature. Nature looks even more beautiful in spring, Nakul says, and Bheem agrees, even though he really prefers the orange and red huges of autumn. Nakul picks flowers, says they are for the spring god— Vasant dev— and Bheem follows his lead, picking more flowers from the ground. He doesn't exactly know what he's doing, so he keeps the flowers in his arms even after Nakul lets his flowers flow in a nearby river with a soft prayer. Later, when Nakul is laying down, his hair in Bheem's lap, Bheem puts the flowers in Nakul's hair.

Arjun grows up way too fast, Bheem thinks. He carries around a carved wooden plate that shows Narayan and Devi Lakshmi, sitting together on different lotuses. Arjun carved it two days before Pitashri and Mata Madri died, he had intended to give it as a gift to Mata Madri, knowing that she was a devotee of Lakshmi-Narayan. The tiny wooden plate leaves scars in Arjun's hands as he holds it tightly as they escape the Lakshagrah. Bheem holds his hand, the wooden plate squeezed between both their hands, and it leaves imprints on Bheem for days to come. On the following Ekadashi—which was just the next day— when Arjun bathed the plaque in kumkum, Bheem washes Arjun's hand with tumeric and Chandan.

Jyeshth doesn't really have time for himself on a lot of days. He's either busy with reading reports, preparing plans and policies, listening to the public's complaints or going on an inspection in some area or the other. He often forgets to eat. When Bheem takes up as his second-in-command and starts shadowing him, jyeshth laughs and says that Bheem need only relax— for the politics is the sole responsibility of the King, and he cannot pawn it off to the Crown Prince, younger brother he may be. When jyeshth prays at the Hanuman ji temple at noon everyday, Bheem, who has now taken to carrying around food, quietly puts down a leaf plate and serves jyeshth food while his eyes are closed.

Krishnaa is younger, by days and by mind. She is extremely easy to excite and she believes in fickle things like equality. Bheem hasn't known equality since they were kids and they lived in a forest in a happy family of eight, eating the same fruits everyday. She has a routine, a strict one, and she adheres to it in a way that is almost manic. Everyday, after bathing, she dresses a small murti of Kali Mata, always in reds and always in different patterns. She has custom made sarees and gajras for the murti. And only after dressing Mata Kali, does Panchali dress. Bheem helps her drape her saree, pressing down creases and straightening out pleats. Even in her open hair, Bheem curls a gajra on the back of her hair, going from ear to ear.

They laugh with him when he overeats— he doesn't know how else to burn down the energy that is threatening to come alive under his skin. He wants to scratch the surface and draw blood and see if it is as hot as it feels. Bheem curls his palms into fists and he sees his veins bulge and the blood caked under his nails and wonders if that is all he is worth— the fight, the blood, the strength.

The powerful one, they call him. Bheem wonders if he hadn't been powerful, what would he be? A poet, perhaps. He would write sonnets on the way Krishnaa's eyelashes curled when she blinked twice in the same sentence— a tell tale sign of her lying. He would write a poem on the way Sahadev always cracked his knuckles loudly, uncaring of the situation. He would write about Nakul's slight limp, which formed when they were escaping Lakshagrah. He would write about the barely visible scars on Arjun's forearm and palms, all because of blisters from holding his bow and arrow. He would write about the way jyeshth curls his hand in the air and closes his eyes, as if beckoning a melody that only he can hear.

Bheem would perhaps write about the horror he feels when he thinks of his abandoned wife and child— when he knows he kissed Hidimbi's ankles and promised her that he is but a slave in her service. He remembers that he washed his hands five times a day and perhaps even more— to the point where his skin had started to shed layers— just to make sure he wouldn't get any blood on Ghatotkach. He would write that he broke his nails, trying to get out the blood and skin from under his nails, before he embraced his son after 13 years. Bheem would write, that his sons were proud, valiant, and chivalrous.

And perhaps, in the last page of a ballad to never be spoken and repeated, Bheem would write, in hushed breath and hurried hand, about himself. He would write the rush of power he feels every time he hears bones break under his grip. He would write about the snarl that he knows that takes over his lips when someone angers him. He would write that he doesn't need weapons to kill— he's always been a weapon, the best among them.

Bheem would write that he still splashes Sahadev with water when he gets panicked about the future, he would write that he still brings flowers to Nakul, he would write that he still washes Arjun's blisters with tumeric, he would write that he still serves food to jyeshth, he would write that he still drapes Krishnaa's saree.

In the last line, Bheem would claim himself a devout man.

But, alas, he was not a poet.

#desiblr #suffer ye suhana nahi #desi tumblr #poetry #thoughts #hindublr #Mahabharat #bheem #arjun #yudhishthir #draupadi #nakul #sahadeva

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