#seriously. I should not have been enabled like this

[echoesofsobs]

Me: Hey, (Ex)? I don't like to set boundaries. But uh... Can you maybe not wish people would die in my server's vent chat?

Ex: Like, omigosh it's not a big deal? You're being too sensitive.

Me: No, it's just... I feel that it's not wishing pain on the person, but on the people who love and care about them. Because they're the ones who are going to suffer the most.

Ex: I super don't care. These people made my life hell, so I wish that they'd die.

Me: Yeah but... Again, it technically doesn't cause the lasting pain you'd want them to-- I'm just asking that you not say that in my server's vent chat. You can say it whenever where-ever else, but that's literally my safe space.

Ex: I GUESS.

Me: Thank you, really.. It's sent me into a couple spirals already, and I didn't want to cause problems about it, but...

Ex: Since YOU'RE gonna set boundaries, I'M gonna set boundaries. I don't like you calling kids "crotch gremlins".

Me: ... I usually refer to really bratty kids, or Karenlings that. But, okay. I can stop.

Ex: GOOD. Because it sounds gross, and I don't like it.

Me: Erm, okay...

[thewertsearch]

Yes!!

I knew it! I fucking knew it! The king is back!

Well... mostly, anyway.

I’m shocked that Sprites can even bleed, let alone lose a limb - they always seemed a little too ethereal to sustain bodily injury. I guess Davesprite was made from two living creatures, though. Hopefully Nanna’s healing beams can work their magic on him later.

By the placement of his wounds, I'm betting that Jack stabbed him through the chest, same as Bro. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if he skewered them both simultaneously, which means that Davesprite probably had to watch Bro die. That must have been... complicated for him.

He seems to have upgraded his weapon, too. Instead of his standard chest-sword, he's wielding an unbroken Royal Deringer - the infamous blade which enabled Jack's regicide. Just what is Davesprite planning?

...wait, seriously? That's all we're getting?

Damn it, Hussie's getting really good at screwing with me. Let's check out Nepeta's scene, then.

AC: :33 < jaspers i guess i should say furwell to you now :(( JASPERSPRITE: Why nepeta? AC: :33 < beclaws this is the end of your timeline and i dont know what catpuns to you after this

It certainly looks like things are falling apart.

That flickering reminds me of the Trollian static which seems to serve as a session's swansong. If I'm not mistaken, the Scratch is already in motion - and I don't know what that'll mean for Jaspersprite, either.

[zeroseuniverse]

Step Up

Word Count: 1K Summary:You swallowed, trying to keep your voice light. “You would’ve figured it out.” “Maybe. But it wouldn’t have been this good. She wouldn’t be this happy.” He finally looked up at you, his brown eyes warm and steady. “I wouldn’t be this happy.” Pairing: Single dad Johnny X Bestfriend Reader

Taglist: @sh0dor1 @tinyelfperson @zaycie @lezleeferguson-120

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Johnny never asked you to step up — but you did anyway.

When his ex walked out on him and their two-year-old daughter, the whole world crashed down on him. You were just his best friend — the one he’d known since high school, the one who teased him relentlessly but always had his back. And when he called you in the middle of the night, barely holding it together, you didn’t even hesitate.

That’s how you ended up here, three years later, in his kitchen flipping pancakes while his five-year-old daughter Lily sat on the counter babbling about her favorite princess. She was in full princess gear — tiara, wand, sparkly shoes — and her tiny feet swung happily as you listened like it was the most important thing in the world.

“...and then I told Joey that you can’t just marry someone without knowing if they like puppies, because what if they don’t? What if they don’t like ice cream either?”

“Exactly,” you agreed seriously, flipping the pancake with a flourish. “Those are the real deal-breakers.”

Johnny stumbled into the kitchen, hair still messy from sleep, watching the two of you with a look you couldn’t quite name. You knew you’d kind of become the unofficial other parent — the one who handled school drop-offs when he worked late, who kissed scraped knees, who showed up to every dance recital and soccer game. But you didn’t think too hard about it because it was just... natural.

“Morning,” he mumbled, eyes flicking between the two of you. “You’re enabling her princess phase.”

“Enabling? I’m nurturing,” you shot back, fixing the tiara when it slid off Lily’s head. “Besides, she’s got good taste. You should be proud.”

Lily beamed, and Johnny just shook his head, amused. But his eyes softened when they landed on you.

Later that day, after Lily was down for her nap, you were both on the couch — you scrolling on your phone while he dozed off, his head resting on your shoulder like it belonged there. You should’ve been used to this by now — the easy affection, the way his presence felt so much like home.

“You know,” he murmured without opening his eyes, “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

You swallowed, trying to keep your voice light. “You would’ve figured it out.”

“Maybe. But it wouldn’t have been this good. She wouldn’t be this happy.” He finally looked up at you, his brown eyes warm and steady. “I wouldn’t be this happy.”

Your heart skipped — but you pushed it down, like always. Because this was Johnny, your best friend, and you didn’t want to mess up the family you’d somehow built together.

But when his fingers brushed yours and stayed there, his touch gentle and hesitant, you started to wonder if maybe he felt the same way.

The next day, Lily decided she wanted a tea party — a very official one, complete with stuffed animal guests and a very particular seating arrangement. Johnny was squished between a unicorn and a teddy bear, wearing a plastic tiara Lily had insisted on. You were across from him, holding a tiny plastic teacup while Lily poured imaginary tea with the seriousness of a royal hostess.

“Would you like some sugar, Daddy?” she asked sweetly.

“Please,” Johnny said, playing along.

“And you?” She turned to you, her big eyes wide.

“Oh, I take my tea with extra giggles,” you said, wiggling your fingers at her.

Lily burst into laughter, and Johnny smiled — that soft, private smile he only ever gave when he was watching the two of you together.

Later, when the tea party was over and you were helping Johnny clean up the aftermath of plush toys and plastic dishes, he looked over at you. “You really are amazing with her, you know.”

“She’s easy to love,” you said, brushing it off.

Johnny’s gaze softened. “So are you.”

Your breath caught. “Johnny—”

Before you could finish, Lily’s voice called from the other room. “Daddy! The unicorn fell down!”

Johnny smiled — that soft, affectionate look still lingering. “We’ll talk later,” he promised.

And for the first time, you really, really hoped you would.

That weekend, Johnny suggested a beach day, and Lily was practically vibrating with excitement. You packed sandwiches and snacks, Johnny handled the beach toys, and the three of you set off. The sun was shining, the waves were perfect, and Lily immediately made it her mission to bury Johnny in the sand.

“Hold still, Daddy! You’re gonna ruin it!” she scolded, her tiny hands patting the mound of sand she’d piled on his legs.

“I’m pretty sure I can’t feel my feet anymore,” Johnny called out to you, but the grin on his face said he didn’t mind one bit.

You laughed from where you were spreading sunscreen on your arms. “This is what you signed up for, sir. No backing out now.”

Lily finished her masterpiece — a very sandy, very patient Johnny — and then ran off to collect seashells. You plopped down next to Johnny’s sandy form, brushing a bit of hair out of his eyes.

“You okay there, Sandman?” you teased.

“Never better.” His voice softened, and when you looked up, his eyes were already on you. “Days like this… they’re my favorite. Because of you.”

Your heart did that stupid skipping thing it always did when he got like this — warm and sincere and looking at you like you hung the moon. But before you could respond, Lily’s triumphant cry interrupted.

“I found the prettiest shell! Look!”

Later, after a long day of sandcastles, swimming, and chasing Lily through the waves, you were all exhausted and sprawled out on a blanket as the sun dipped low in the sky. Lily was fast asleep, her head on Johnny’s chest.

Johnny looked over at you, his voice soft. “You make everything better. For both of us.”

“Johnny…”

He shifted closer, brushing a damp strand of hair behind your ear. “I think I’ve been in love with you for a while now. I just didn’t want to mess up what we have.”

Your breath caught. “Me too.”

And right there, under the sunset with Lily’s soft breathing between you, Johnny took your hand — and didn’t let go.

[xxblairexxss]

Pick me up (Part 1)

Pairing : Charles Leclerc x reader

Theme : Fluff

Charles got a call from Monaco prison and he wished you took it more seriously.

I had this in my draft for quite a while so I guess I should share it with you guys because I think it’s adorable!

✧.* tags! @i83andrew @cltrlne

“Is it recording?” You took a step back and accidentally hit your hind foot against the leg of the armchair. “Oh my god. Wait, let me sit first.” You plonked yourself on the mint coloured seat and brought your hair up to tie it into a messy bun.

The sound of a dial tone resounded from your phone. You had enabled the loud speaker once the call was connected to the number you had clicked. “I’m so nervous!” You covered your grin and whispered to the other phone that was propped up against your mirror and was recording, the time at the top end of the screen started calculating every seconds.

“Hello…?”

“Oh!” Your mouth formed an ‘O’ as you quickly pressed on the space button. “Hello, this is a collect call from the Remand Prison of Monaco for inmate Y/N Y/L/N.” Came on the text-to-speech voice from your laptop that you had set aside.

“What the heck?!” You heard Charles’s voice went louder into the phone as he cleared his throat after.

You clicked on a different tab and pressed on the spacebar key again. “Say yes if you would like to accept this call.”

“Yes, please.”

“Baby!” You cried out.

“Honey, what the fuck is going on?” You had a hard time to control your giggle hearing how tensed he was.

You sighed. “I–I don’t know!”

“What do you mean you don’t know?!”

“Can you come pick me up?” You faked a wept and quickly covered your mouth to bury your smile, as if he could see your face.

“How did you get arrested?” You could hear he was getting stressed and then came a soft sound of a door being closed. You were so sure he had segregated himself because his voice was louder this time.

You held your tongue, trying to make it looked as if you were having trouble to talk from heavy crying. “I told you I was going to go to Starbucks, right?”

“Yeah? And did you get possessed or something?”

“No! I found this cute mug and this old lady tried to steal it from my hand so I whacked her in the head.”

He breathed out and you knew he was trying to calm himself down so there was only silence in the air for a few seconds. “You….beat an old lady for a mug? Honey….” The tone of his voice changed from fretted to full of disappointment.

“She tried to steal it from me!” You replied, defending yourself.

“Didn’t give you a reason to smack her! What were you thinking? What— what am— are you okay, honey? Did they do anything to you?”

“No, but they made me wear this jail outfit. I don’t like it and it’s cold here.” You could barely took a breath when he replied to you straight away.

“The audacity of you to complain about that after you punched someone, Y/N. What am I supposed to do now? When can they release you? How many years?”

“They said you can come pick me up but you have to bring a pen because there’s some agreements you have to sign.” You answered. You had been silently giggling so you hoped the phone call didn’t pick up the sound of it.

“What agreement? Oh my god, how serious is this matter? What else should I bring?” He sounded like he was walking back and forth, probably from the agitation or he was indeed, looking for a pen.

“I don’t know! You need to come in 30 minutes or they won’t accept any appeal and you’ll have to wait for another month.” You pulled the phone away and winced when he howled in distress.

“Y/N! You should have told me earlier! Can you please take this seriously? We spent 10 minutes on the phone already. I’m coming.”

“Charles, wait!” He ended the call before you could say anything and convulsed with laughter, your body and shoulders shook from it. “I need to call him back before he literally go and pay the prison a visit. Bye!” You clicked on the red button on the screen of your phone and the video ended.

[lucky-clover-gazette]

okay i have THOUGHTS about this line

he didn’t have to say that to make his plan work. i mean yeah, being nice to the player definitely earns their favor and future assistance, but he could have just as easily gone the route of gaslighting them into feeling bad and like they caused the problem, eliciting a more shame-based and desperate and less uplifting and righteous kind of reliance. like if volo really hated the player, and was truly cruel, that’s what he would have done. the player would have still gotten the chain and felt indebted to him for the plate hunt, but they also would be miserable and feel lonely and hurt and confused. but volo doesn’t do that, he grounds the player and validates their feelings, which were hurt by the cruel townspeople more than the event volo caused to prompt that cruelty. like truly, it’s only volo’s fault that the player gets banished through the most like simple calculated logic—yes, if he hadn’t caused the rift, they wouldn’t have been banished, or brought here at all. but kamado CHOSE to banish them based on his own paranoia and disdain for outsiders, and the others enabled it by choice. volo didn’t make that happen, just how he didn’t make or even want arceus to get the player involved in the first place.

i don’t think volo hates the player, personally, at all. or at least, i think that he hates them and cares for them just as much as he hates and cares for himself. i know this isn’t groundbreaking volo theorizing material, but he’s absolutely projecting his disdain for society based on his vague past experiences here. he dislikes the outsider because his plan demands it, but he dislikes everyone else because he personally thinks they’re terrible. it’s kinda neat how he “fake” compliments the player’s loyalty to him as a merchant so often, bc i think loyalty is something he actually takes very seriously. and he probably saw how loyal the player was to the galaxy team, and then the way they kicked them out, and was genuinely pissed and hurt on the player’s behalf.

the things he says at the end of the game are said in extreme distress and defeat, and while they are not NOT reflective of his character and motives, i’m shocked by how many pokemon fans regard volo like he’s a nihilistic and amoral sociopath. passion and compassion are behind nearly everything volo does, for better or for worse. they’re behind moments like this, and moments like his ranting at spear pillar. he is a person who constantly grapples to align his personal moral code and lofty ideals, which live in this weird space between the manmade and divine, with the flawed reality of existence. his entire mentality is full of contradictions, because he is a man who thinks he should be god, but in reality could never be a good god, because he is still very much a man. it’s the emotion, idealism, and intellectual curiosity of humanity that drive him, not the impartiality, absolutism, and complacency of an omnipotent all-knowing deity.

so like, with this line. he specifically mentions that the galaxy team has treated the player poorly. not that the galaxy team’s choice was illogical, not that the player just needs to try harder to get them to accept him. he is emphatically rejecting the premise that the player did anything to deserve blame, even though he has no intention to actually explain why this really happened or volunteer himself to take the blame. because ultimately, volo is not the person to blame for the galaxy team’s cruelty, and he knows it. and he also knows that it’s the cruelty that has hurt the player, more than the sky problem itself, because he has been treated like an outsider too. and he can’t DO anything about that. even if he told the truth, the damage has already been done. the player knows how their supposed allies would react in this situation, regardless of the logic or truth. and volo can’t fix that. he does not believe he can make people kinder or the world a better place, which is exactly why he wants so badly to remake it. for himself, bc clearly he’s been through some shit too, for people like the outsider, and for anyone else whose loyalty and dedication have been met with rejection and apathy. which is so deeply tragic and ironic, because by being the only person to care for the player in this moment, he is making the world a better place for them.

volo is, at his core, a hypocrite. he’s like if you put the ingredients for a hero into a blender, but accidentally used the “tragic hypocrite” setting so he came out a janky villain instead. to volo, concepts like loyalty and self-righteousness are driving forces, much moreso than simple black and white morality or consequentialism. this makes him a hypocrite because he believes a perfect world is possible as long as his moral code is strictly followed, and his evil plan is to prove it. but in his efforts to do so, he proves over and over again that a perfect world isn’t possible, and certainly would not be possible under his control.

like, okay—if someone suggested that the means of pain and suffering in the world justified the ends (the world), volo would disagree and claim that arceus is responsible for the pain and suffering, and therefore does not deserve the power to create/rule worlds. but then, following that very same logic, if volo needed to get a random person banished and betrayed in order to create his better world, then those means wouldn’t justify his ends either. which is WHY we see him subconsciously draw a line here, between the things he’s not responsible for (other people being cruel, arceus transporting the player) and the things he is directly responsible for (the way he treats the player in these circumstances, either with derision or support). and wouldn’t you know, in this instance where it truly is up to him what the means are to his ends, he chooses kindness where he could have been cruel. because while arceus sending the hero and the town banishing them weren’t really Volo’s means to Volo’s ends, this conversation sure as hell could be. And he doesn’t want his better world built on a foundation of suffering and pain.

by saying this one line and treating the player as he does here, i think volo accidentally exposes something deeply true and good about himself. this man could say “i’m a villain and i don’t care about the player” and fully believe it, but at the same time demonstrably possess the morals and compassion of a hero, which he uses to actively care for the player. he is a delusional hypocrite, but he’s definitely not heartless. and i just think that’s neat.

alternatively, volo is completely heartless, knows that people are endeared to people who want to protect them, and methodically uses that knowledge here for his convenience. that very well could have been the intention, and it makes sense too—but i personally enjoy entertaining the notion of depth where i see potential for it. so yeah.

[visenyaism]

Just saw that last ask you got and my jaw dropped. I feel like some people never moved past the part of feminism where you unlearn internalized shame and got to the part where you have to challenge your belief systems. I guess I understand the urge to romanticize “essential” female experiences or female relationships because otherwise it feels like femininity is just a shared experience of suffering under patriarchy but like. Gender is fake. Free yourself. Also girl math is just women be shopping humor be so for real

I have to mute replies on that post because at this point, I have to remember that I only answer stupid questions when I’m being paid to do so. Here’s a non-exhaustive list of takes about whether making jokes about how women are bad at math is okay or not that have been inflicted upon me:

- it’s just a joke, why can’t you take it less seriously it’s not that deep. (Anything is not that deep if you refuse to think about it but I digress)

- women joking about how women are bad at math or that women are childish or incapable in general is the same thing as Black reclamation of the N word.

-“girl math” is not misogynistic because it’s not saying girls are bad at math, it’s saying they’re good at shopping. 

- “women be shopping” is actually consumer economics and saying those kinds of jokes are sexist is actually a misogynistic denial of the way that most women use math in their everyday lives

- Making misogynistic jokes is an important way for women to build community with each other and I’m a misogynist for interfering with their ability to do this

- I’m a terf for saying that you should not joke about how adult women are childish or incapable.

- Making jokes that enforce misogyny actually enables women to see the misogyny in their own society and is this the first step to acting feminist liberation and social change

-“Girl Math” is actually a woke acknowledgement of the “different ways of thinking” women have from men and pushing back on this at all is the same kind of medical misogyny that leads to underdiagnosis of neurodivergence in young girls

- Women need to joke about not being able to do math or eat food or act as an autonomous adult and hide behind the “I’m just a girl” jokes to gain silliness, whimsy and liberation from Girlboss feminism that expects adults to be capable. I am a misogynist for stopping them from doing this. It is actually an overly masculinizing influence to expect adult woman to be able to do math.

- I’m saying you shouldn’t make jokes about how women are bad at math and call it girl math because I am insecure, have too much internalized misogyny about women having fun, and hate “the types of girls who make these jokes.”

[salmonlyster]

hes waving at you hes just weird

ive used the name frances the most but fritz is really growing on me :p okay more thoughts under the cut lol

im not sure i like the idea of him being on a scholarship anymore since that implies he has an attachment to the school which is NOT like him at all. my initial thought was hes on a scholarship because hes valuable to the student body (again, really smart when he puts effort into things) but i think thats a bit too complicated and i would have to work around that logic a lot.

he's still in constant danger of being kicked out, though. and a constant target of harassment. he doesn't do it on purpose persay but he doesn't make any sort of effort to conceal what he does whatever the fuck he wants. type of guy where you would think he has no social awareness, but he's very aware! he just doesn't care. type of kid that flushes random shit down the toilet or puts firecrackers in it. burns his homework in the bathrooms. hides cigarettes in his boxers and skips to go smoke behind the dumpsters.

him and illi are the first to meet each other (and on illi- i love the name illi, and will definitely keep it, but will likely change their last name :3). illi is really frustrated with school because it's miserable for them, but they just kind of float by without bothering anyone else. illi has a bit of a complex about it where they feel like they should at least be bullied or something of the sort to justify how much they hate school. in short they enable each other and become public nuisances, but there's a weird dynamic about it. willis has been a target his whole life, and is ambivalent towards it because of how he's grown up with it, but is frustrated with illi's fascination with that. illi struggled talking to others growing up and goes days without speaking to their classmates, and struggles to form substantial connections to others. there's never a negative attitude towards illi by the student body, but there's never a positive one, either. they have a lot of pent up rage and think that getting beat up on the near daily would make their anger worth something.

on the socialization thing, louise's conflict with others is less that he can't form connections, and more that he isn't particularly interested. he takes his academics very seriously and eats lunch in the teacher's room (one of the english teachers) (which I will get into later in a louise-focused post). he views school as "networking" and more like a professional work environment than anything, so becoming friends with others isn't something he thinks about doing. if he put in the effort, though, him and illi would be equally awkward.

also, i really like the idea of willis being trans, simply because his uniform is worn really interesting. the pants are lower on the hips to give the illusion of a longer torso, which is something that trans men (myself included lol) do to conceal their hips/give a more masculine frame. i know the intention was just to be a sloppy uniform but i think it could be interesting. I likely won't take that idea that far.

also let me know if youre interested in the playlist im making for this :3 ok bye now ill prob not like this drawing in the morning but we ball

[asteriastarr]

Okay, cool! (I nay or may not have read both of your Deuce books in one night) I wanted to request something along the lines of Deuce with a reader who loves pda and is kind of clingy. Maybe it takes place at the beginning of the second movie where they're in the clawditorium. The rest of the group turns around, and they're just kissing yet again. Or you can make up the plot however you like <3

A/n: Sorry this took so long and is also kinda short, i wasnt quite sure where it should go

This might be bad, Idk.

Btw, since you mentioned my deuce books, the next part to my deuce book comes out Friday/Saturday (depending on your timezone)

POV: Y/n and Deuce are clingy.

Y/n wouldn’t say she had attachment issues, per say, she wouldn’t say she’s clingy either, especially not when it comes to her boyfriend, Deuce, like her friends seem to suggest. Of course, she can spend time without him around (she does that- reluctantly- every summer), and she can be around him without touching him, and she can go five minutes without kissing him, but, her boyfriend is so ridiculously attractive, so insanely ethereal, so perfectly perfect, so why would she want to?

And no, Draculaura, she’s not addicted to him, she can stop anytime she wants. But why should she? It’s a two-way street after all, and Deuce seems perfectly content with enabling her.

Besides, after an entire summer with only seeing her most perfectest boyfriend a handful of times, rather than the almost-daily hangouts she’d become accustomed to during the past year of school, one couldn’t possibly blame her for being ‘clingy’… Though her friends seemed to try to.

Take, for example, Draculaura’s end of summer party.

Y/n and Deuce had been sat on Draculaura’s couch, Y/n curled up against him, her arms wrapped tightly around his waist, Deuce’s arm wrapped gently against her shoulder whilst he spoke calmly to Heath, every so often he’d look down and place a soft kiss on Y/n’s forehead, and Y/n would adjust herself so she could place a small kiss on his cheek.

Y/n had yet to leave Deuce’s side to talk to any friends, and Deuce, though he was having a conversation with Heath, hadn’t actually made any attempt to leave his ghoulfriend’s side since she’d arrived at the party.

“Are you two going to move from that spot… at all?” Draculaura asked, approaching the two after realising they hadn’t moved.

“Maybe… if a song we like plays.” Y/n murmured.

“You two have the entire school year to be together, we go to a boarding school.”

“Yeah, but during the school year we have to study, there’s not much time to do this.” Y/n pointed out tightening her grip around Deuce out of spite.

“You spent most of last year together.” Draculaura countered, crossing her arms.

“And that was wrong of us, we should’ve been studying.” Y/n hummed, though her voice had no true seriousness to it “Besides, you and I spent most of the summer together.”

Draculaura gave up on trying to convince Y/n of anything for the rest of the party.

At the start of school assembly, Y/n and Deuce weren’t clinging to each other for once, they were sitting calmly side-by-side, listening to the Headmistress speak…

Or, at least that’s what their friends had thought.

The two were sitting behind the rest of their friends, meaning, until they turned around, the two could do pretty much whatever they wanted, throughout the assembly, Y/n made sure at least one part of her body was touching Deuce at all times, which really just meant she had her head on his shoulder and was sitting as close as she possibly could, whilst Deuce was making sure to keep his arm around her shoulder or waist, unless of course one of their friends turned around, in which case they’d quickly separate to prevent hearing their friends complaints or teasing.

Then, when the assembly was almost over, Draculaura turned around to talk to them.

“Y’know I am so proud of you both for not-”

She cut herself off at the sight of Y/n and Deuce kissing, both of whom seemed very happy with themselves.

“-never mind.” Draculaura sighed, turning back around.

After that, the group had collectively decided to just leave Y/n and Deuce alone when it came to the situation of them being clingy with each other.

[diamondkat]

I have decided to contribute to the theories on what possibly canonically happened between Vox and Alastor that led to their relationship ending. For the sake of this theory creation, I will be taking everything said by the characters at face value. The things that I will be taking into consideration for this theory are the following: what was said in the interactions that we have seen between them so far; the creator describing what happened between them as sad and complicated; Alastor being under a contract and; Alastor being one of the main characters.

The first thing to consider will be that based on the creator saying that it is sad and complicated, they would have both been friends and the reason for their break up would not be a single person's fault. There would likely be issues outside and within the relationship that would lead to it ending. On the other hand, Alastor being a main character also means that the narrative will likely favour him in the reason for their break up. If you take all of that with the knowledge that Alastor doesn't own his soul, there is a chance that his owner was involved in why their relationship ended up falling apart.

We also have to consider Vox and Alastor's statements about each other. On Vox's side, he accuses Alastor of being in the past and of being a coward. Alastor, on the other hand, accuses Vox of being a fake whose power comes from using those around him to appear powerful and a person who can't take a "No". This should also give us a clue regarding how they see what went wrong in their relationship. Vox sees Alastor as someone who brave enough to do certain things/potentially make changes and Alastor sees Vox as someone who takes advantage of those around him and throws a fit when he doesn't get his way.

Regarding what happened during their potential last fight, we only have what is said by Vox and Valentino, which is Valentino asking, "You still pissed he almost beat you that time?," and Vox replying, "Uh, fuck you." This was followed by Vox declaring that things had changed in Alastor's absence and he was going to show who was really in charge of things now. Based on this, it can be said that Vox won their last fight, but not in a way that left him confident in his ability to take on Alastor directly at the time. Therefore, his hope was that the time that had passed had finally put him ahead of Alastor.

Taking all these points together, here is my theory. Alastor and Vox were genuinely friends. I don't know if Vox had a crush on Alastor or not but the friendship between them went both ways. Alastor's support of Vox enabled him to grow quickly in hell and allowed him to be considered a force to be reckoned with. Vox over time got used to Alastor granting him things. However, Alastor's owner wasn't quite as happy with their relationship. She decided to interfere in their relationship, probably trying to poison the relationship. She might have suggested a simple test where Alastor told Vox, "No" when next he asked him for something. After all, Alastor has a tendency to let his friends get away with asking whatever they want from him based on his relationships with Mimzy and Niffty. This coincided with Vox having big plans for them to work together to go to the next level. Alastor said no and Vox took it very poorly. He couldn't understand why Alastor would completely turn him down. Vox's reaction proved some of the things that Alastor's owner had said to him leaving him disappointed and betrayed. Vox likely also did not handle what he considered a rejection well, particularly if Valentino was involved in poisoning things on Vox's side. This would have led to an escalation that would end in a fight, in which Alastor almost seriously hurts Vox but Vox manages to gain the upper hand, likely with the help of Valentino. My headcanon is that it is this fight that damages Vox and Valentino's antennas.

The radiostatic headcanon part of this is that Rosie thought that they were romantically involved but it turned out that Vox was attracted to Alastor while Alastor thought everything they were doing was about friendship. This is part of how Rosie figured out that Alastor was asexual.

[crossdreamers]

Let us make Europe a safe haven for American transgender refugees (and we need your help)

A Dutch LGBTQ ally and activist hopes to turn the Netherlands into a haven for transgender refugees from the US. But he needs help. He asks transgender Americans to provide stories he can use to pressure Dutch politicians. We should strive to make more European countries places of refuge.

The battle for America's democratic soul is not over, and the pro-democracy forces may win. But transgender people have already become the scapegoats of fascists and religious fanatics. The Republican Party is doing all it can to erase trans people's existence through laws and propaganda.

It is time to prepare for the unthinkable: A transgender "underground railroad" to Europe.

There are already organizations out there that helps LGBTQ people escape from oppressive regimes, but it does not look like they have been prepared for an American trans exodus (see for instance The Rainbow Railroad and Immigration Equality).

I was recently contacted by a Dutch trans ally who calls himself Ned McRant online. His idea is to put up online resources that can help transgender Americans who need to flee to Europe, and in particular the Netherlands.

Formally it is already possible for transgender Americans to move to this country, but he wants Dutch politicians to get engaged in a pro-trans resettlement policy.

The American anti-trans policies

He writes:

"For the past fourteen years, I have closely followed political developments in the United States. What I have learned fills me with great concern—not only for that nation’s future but also for the global impact of its actions. The information I receive from reliable sources often diverges significantly from what is reported in Dutch news. My understanding of American history and politics enables me to recognize the seriousness of the threats at hand. The situation has escalated since Donald Trump’s rise to power. A major threat comes in the form of a vision called Project 2025, crafted by the Heritage Foundation, a fundamentalist Christian think tank. This manifesto is essentially a blueprint for transforming the United States into a theocracy, similar to nations like Iran but based on Christian fundamentalism. Although Trump denies involvement, he is already implementing parts of this plan. My personal investment in this issue stems from my unwavering support for the LGBTQ+ community, particularly my friendships with transgender individuals. In the U.S., "coming out" as gay or transgender has become life-threatening. Under Project 2025, the fundamental rights of transgender individuals are being systematically dismantled. In some states, there is even talk of forcing them to de-transition a horrific process that strips them of their identity and happiness. Access to essential medication like HRT (Hormone Replacement Therapy) is being denied, pushing many to despair and even suicide. While the Netherlands cannot stop this political madness, we can make a difference. We can offer a safe haven to those who have nowhere else to turn. Through our friendship treaty with the U.S., Americans can already settle in the Netherlands. However, specific support for LGBTQ+ refugees is lacking."

Getting stories from American trans people

Ned has sent letters to Dutch parliamentarians, making arguments similar to these. He has asked them to investigate how the country can help persecuted transgender Americans and build a support network in the Netherlands.

This approach can also be used in other European countries.

Ned says that he plans to contact them over and over again, adding stories based on the real life experiences of American trans people. To do this he needs input from transgender Americans. If you want to help, contact Ned at Ned.McRant@gmail.com.

I would like input from European LGBTQ-people and allies who have knowledge and ideas about how we can help transgender refugees move to European countries. Write to jack.molay@gmail.com or DM Transgender World here:

Threads

Bluesky

Mastodon

LinkedIn

As for LGBTQ people sending personal emails to people they do not personally know: I recommend that you use a separate anonymous email account for this. Yes, this also applies to emails sent to me.

We will follow up with more on this topic.

Jack Molay

See also: TGEU: "EU asylum pact fails trans and gender-diverse asylum seekers"

Illustration photo from Getty

[martialartslover7]

Shippuden Rewrite Idea: What role I would have given to Anko in Shippuden

Let's be real to ourselves. Out of all the characters, who were done the most dirty (leaving the likes of the entire Hyuga clan, Kiba, Sasuke, pretty much the ENTIRE cast of Boruto, and a huge chunk of the female characters aside), Anko is the one, where the bad writing decisions, and therefore downright STAGGERING pile of missed opportunities, really shine through the most. Because, I dunno about you guys, but, the way Sasuke was written in Shippuden, I get it, he is supposed to be this lonely wolf, who is walking his own path, and doesn't take crap from anybody, not even his own team, and considering how corrupted Konoha is, from the ground up, with the likes of Danzo, and the Kage, having practically ENABLED said snake man, his actions make sense.

However, what bothers me, after a few rewatches...

...Sasuke is barely openly humanized, before Itachi's passing. The best way I can describe it, is that, it feels like, the author was just being edgy and angsty with him, for the sake being edgy and angsty. And that was a constant, by the way. Barely reacting to anything, always having this overfixated drive for his goals, and having this attitude of "fuck everyone else, my goal is more important", and yes, I understand. His backstory. But COME. ON. This just looks ridiculous after a while, man. If the only ounce of emotion a character can show, is always the same, stupid deadpan stare, having this "Fuck all of you" face, 24/7, never letting up, always putting on a mask around everyone, wouldn't you assume that, around Team Hebi, Sasuke would definitely show more cracks, as he WANTS to put faith in them, the same way Team 7 did with him, before his departure? Maybe I am misunderstanding something, but whenever I saw Sasuke on-screen in Shippuden, pre-Kage Summit, I just couldn't take him seriously. Tragic backstory or not, this is frankly embarrassing. Even other characters of a similar archetype like Sasuke, in other forms of media, have strong moments of humanity, showing definitive cracks in their facade (best examples I can name, is Shadow the Hedgehog, Jin Kazama, Siegfried Schtauffen, Robby Keene, Anakin Skywalker, Iori Yagami, even they showed emotion and humanity, even in their angstiest of phases), but Sasuke on the other hand, leaving the fight with Itachi aside, he barely ever emotes beyond that deadpan expression and occasional scowling, even during moments of dealing with the antics of his own teammates. And this comes from an unapologetic Sasuke supporter here, before some of you morons in the fandom assume that I am hating on him. I am not. I am calling Kishimoto an idiot here, that's all. Especially for humiliating Sasuke's character, after Shippuden.

So, the question of the hour arises:

How does Anko play into all of this?

Simple. The solution I am presenting here:

Turn her into a spy, that shall not only follow Team Hebi around to find out what Sasuke is really up to, keeping Team 7 up to speed, but to also watch over Sasuke, and letting his teammates know, he is doing OK, because I headcanon that, outside of Team 7, Neji, Shikamaru and Kiba, Anko also deeply cares about him, and with her it's even more special, because, since both had the same teaching figure, she more than understands and sympathizes with his course of action, way more than most people. And she had always been Pro Team Uchiha, even with Tobirama's and Danzo's discriminatory actions committed towards them, as she was one of the few, who NEVER bought into it, because like the Uchiha, she was also tossed aside like trash by both her teacher, and the village. Brownie points are definitely there.

Especially, if we keep in mind how knowledgeable Anko is about her former sensei, considering that, after learning of how Sasuke "killed" Orochimaru, Anko should know that, he cannot be killed that easily. And as we saw later, during Sasuke's fight with Itachi, that death was FAR from permanent, since he revived himself through Sasuke's Curse Mark. Which, by the way, has the exact same bodily line pattern as her own Curse Mark. That thing could function as her personal radar to track him down, as Orochimaru's influence did cause her major discomfort, as her Curse Mark was reacting to his presence, whenever he was closeby. So yeah, she is what Sonic saw in Longclaw. A guardian angel for Sasuke.

They have the same flame-like pattern.

And to be absolutely foolproof, knowing how unpredictable Sasuke has become, Anko decides to master the arts of Sage jutsu. And to do this, she ventures to the Ryūchi Caves to meet the White Snake Sage, and attain Snake Sage Mode, something that not even Orochimaru was truly capable of attaining on his own time, because his body wasn't cut out for the final task. But Anko succeeds, because the Curse Mark he gave her, functions like a "tunnel" of sorts to make the absorption process of the Sage chakra a lot more palpatable and bearable. And there you go, what do we get? This.

For anyone interested in wanting to see, how I would have written the process for Anko on how she ends up attaining Snake Sage mode, take a look here:

Now, much like Orochimaru, Anko is practically semi-immortal, Sasuke can dish out any fatal blow that he can think of, it's no use. She cannot be killed that easily anymore, and because she is very stubborn and persistant, essentially making her Naruto, if he was female, NOW ON STEROIDS, BECAUSE OF SNAKE SAGE MODE, I doubt she would ever leave, well enough alone, when she got an edgy dork like Sasuke on her radar.

In fact, I just realized, Anko's role here would also provide genuine comedic relief, that also humanizes Sasuke in the process, to make us, the audience, and Team 7 understand that, at the end of the day, much like Naruto, Sasuke didn't exactly change in those past three years, as she would spill the information to them on what she saw. Even after departing from Konoha, he still remains the same brooding, emo Uchiha dork, who keeps unintentionally hitting all of the checkmarks for being a drama queen. Oh, those Uchiha and their knack for loving Shakespearean dramatics. Let's not lie to ourselves, even with this traumatic shit he had to bear witness to, deep down, he had always remained that lonely, angsty wolf in Shippuden, even if the story would not dare to show, because "it would take away from the immersion", whatever the hell that is supposed to mean. Because I don't see how openly humanizing an edgelord character accounts for "taking away from the experience", since stuff like this, gets really tiring after a while, especially if this the ONLY thing you see with them. Most unnecessary melodrama is removed, because Anko provides us with important info, and keeps the team up-to-date. Win-win, if you ask me.

But, since Anko does strike me as a woman, who would go there...

...in order to get the information out of her, she is more than willing to openly share it with Kakashi...

...under the condition that...

...he is man enough to listen to her sultry voice and pervy scenarios, that she forces upon his Icha Icha Paradise-ridden mind. Even flirting with him on the phone, as she takes a hot bath, teasing him by telling him to join her, if he is man enough to get... the real thing, instead of being stuck to his pervy romance novels. She can be his romance. This woman knows her business.

And because she is a little bit of a sadist, she may end up trolling Sakura about Karin, making her initially believe that "Sasuke might be taken", before then reminding her: No, he is not. In fact, he always seemed openly uncomfortable being touched by Karin, due to her unhinged Uzumaki attitude, being a whirlpool of emotions, and pervy thoughts. I just find this hilarious, Anko has all of Team 7 in a chokehold about Sasuke. And once they learn, he hasn't exactly changed, they might comically grow very disappointed about him...

...and even from far away, Sasuke will FEEL their disappointment, it's just a goldmine of genuine comedy, mixed in with wholesomeness from genuine bonds being kept alive, and new ones being formed. All thanks to her.

Yup, Kakashi and Anko shippers, you can have a field day with this one, too.

And well, through Anko, we can even learn more about Sasuke's teammates, because she can dig up information about them, and feed them to Kakashi, just in case. Suigetsu, Karin and Jugo are all in the same boat as Sasuke and Anko. I swear, am I the only one who thinks:

Anko must become the sensei of Suigetsu, Karin and Jugo?

Imagine that for a minute. It makes way too much sense. And since she is a good person with maternal instincts, she would definitely treat these three like family, unlike what Orochimaru merely viewed them as: Assets.

So yeah, here you go. Not only did I just make Anko a heck of a lot more interesting, and a proper lense for the viewer to closely observe Sasuke, behind the scenes, where she closely observing his quirks and eccentricities (until the fight with Itachi, at least, where she may lose his trail completely, because of Obito using his Mangekyo to teleport Sasuke out of there), but also mended an issue that was plaguging early-Shippuden Sasuke. Making him less of a plot device that just drives the plot forward, and more of a guy that is merely trying to do his best, unable to move on from his old teammates. It makes it way easier to root for, and understand him too, even early on (even while keeping the stuff with the elders and Konoha in mind).

I hope you have a great day, now go on. Let me know what you think.

PEACE.

[amf-studios]

Because I had no other plans for April fools, you're getting this.

Enma family headcanons!!

It's been stated before, but probably long enough people have forgotten, my version of enma is the child of Ancient Enma's eldest daughter, Hecate(yes, that hecate).

Enma's father in this instance is the one of hecate's recorded consorts most known for their capacity for mischief... Hermes. Where did you think Koen got it from?

Hecate and Hermes were never formally married, but they were dating at the same time Ancient Enma was expecting his daughters to produce heirs, because only men can take the throne for some reason, and he would have preferred to have retired before he reincarnated. (Spoiler alert: he didnt.)

Koen(our enma) was raised mostly in a split with Hecate, as the enma in the room, getting majority custody, and Hermes got weekends

Hermes was simultaneously a bad influence on his kid as he enabled the chaos gremlin behavior toward random civilians, and a good influence in that as the God of trade and language, Koen learned in many of the fields a king would need to maintain some semblance of order

Hecate by contrast was the more grounded parent of the two, but was still a doting mother when she could make time.

Also previously stated, Loki, Norse God of mischief, is related to the enmas

No one is exactly sure HOW Loki is related to the enma's. Just that he's somehow close enough to the main branch that should no heir be present in the main branch, he'd be in the running for King

Loki himself is a father of three, mother of one(long story) and his closest relationship is with his daughter Hel, Norse goddess of death

Hel and her brothers are considered just far enough from the main branch to not qualify as part of the Enma tribe.

Loki for the most part keeps his connection to the main branch on the downlow, mostly so the rest of the Norse don't suspect his lineage has anything to do with the tricks he plays on them.

Related to above, the Enmas made up the Ragnorak prophecy because Odin is a little paranoid, and they knew he'd take it seriously.

The Enmas originated from ancient India, but after establishing themselves as the defacto rules of the yokai world, they have ties to just about every major pantheon you can think of.

Despite their feats of strength, most enma kings have treaded lightly with their rules. They can defeat basically any other yokai one on one, but would fall if enough of the yokai world turned on them.

Koen is the first king in a long while to ignore this prior point, as while he maintains relationships, he mostly does whatever he wants.

No one likes to think of how Ananta came to be, giving his mother was a human woman and his father is the second largest snake in the family

Koen plays poker with some of the other gods

Zeus somehow knows every possible way to enter the Enma pavilion. It's one of his first choices to crash when Hera locks him out of Olympus

And finally, nothing related to enma in forever friends happened in the natsuki au.

Hope you enjoy

[punkpandapatrixk]

🥀Sad Bitch Lilith ♦︎ Timeless Pick A Card

We live in a world where being too kind, too sweet, too compassionate and forgiving could often lead to disastrous outcomes. This is after all a world where narcissists, sociopaths and psychopaths run free without much repercussion. A sweet girl can’t be pleasant all the time; a goddess needs to carry a machete from time to time.

What most people have yet to grasp, is that Venus and Lilith quite literally make each side of the Divine Femininity coin. Venus represents Light and Lilith represents Dark; even then, they could easily switch roles depending on the situation at hand. Only if you want—you are allowed to embody both Venus and Lilith in their respective glory.

Do you really want to become that kind of idiot who sends love and light to those who have done you much harm? You don’t have to force yourself to be the bigger person in a conflict that was created for the sole purpose of stripping you of power and autonomy. Enablers and gaslighters enforce that kind of idea so you make room for their terrible behaviour. WAKE. UP.

So many women in this world have at some point been a Sad Bitch Lilith at the hands of psychopaths, sociopaths and narcs in whatever role they play in their lives. Hopefully this reading serves to help you turn the narrative into SAVAGE LILITH. The Dark Moon Goddess who delights in revenge for she knows in it lies EDUCATION for the imbeciles who have foolishly disrespected her kind, sweet, friendly, feminine qualities. The Dark Feminine retorts,

‘RESPECT ME OR GET DESTROYED.’

Black Moon Lilith is a Goddess of Redemption. She takes into her own hands matters of delivering nightmare to those who have wronged her. She calculates in the dark. She doesn’t ask for permission. She's a wild woman. She punishes swiftly. She moves history.

She is Karma.

Karma paid in revenge glow up, BITCH🌹

SONG: I’ll Make You Cry by aespa

MOVIE: Gone Girl (2014)

[PAC Masterlist] [Part 1] [Part 3]

[Patreon] [Paid Readings]

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 1 – When My Tears Silently Turn to Diamonds

the way your beauty irritates people – 10 of Pentacles Rx

VIBE: I’m Unhappy by aespa

You’re somebody who’s perceived as abundant and superfluous by others. It’s super obvious from the way you look, the way you carry yourself, or even your family background. You just… exude a rich vibe—whether or not you actually come from old money. Damn, you just have it in you. It’s something you were born with. Even if you didn’t come from a rich background, or even if right now, for some reason you’re struggling with resources, no, honey, listen: it’s your fucking AURA.

People can see either you’re blessed since birth—with money, beauty, talents, whatever—or they simply can smell that you’re gonna make it big someday. Most people you’ve known in your environment, do not like this about you at all. It’s their own fault though, why in the name of fuck are they always comparing themselves to you? Did you ask for that? Never. But they’re always imagining how nice it would be in your shoes without knowing for realz your life story.

They project their insecurities at you even when you’ve never wanted to make anybody feel that way because of your presence. In many ways, I think you’ve tried so hard to make you look ordinary, or in some cases, you’ve tried to show a lot of care and generosity. You’ve tried to make everybody see that you’re just like them even if your circumstances are not exactly the same. It never worked though—maybe it’s even backfired.

Your abundance… is simply irritating to them because you’re surrounded by motherfucking losers, babe.

silencing the negative self-talk – XIX The Sun

VIBE: ASAP by NewJeans

You should be done feeling bad for being radiant. It’s not your fault other people are ugly. It’s not your responsibility that other people don’t have money. How are you at fault when a good company chooses you for the talents and skills you’ve developed which they need? Seriously, it’s none of your business if others wouldn’t work on themselves to be considered an amazing creature in society. You keep being you, honey. You and I know you’re always refining your natural talents and deepening your base knowledge. You’re truly a hustler even if others don’t see that.

When you’re not saddened or confused by others’ terrible attitude towards your blessings, your mindset is really positive like the Sun itself. Of all the Piles, I think your heart is the purest🤣You’re more generous than people give you credit for. You’re always trying to make everyone feel welcomed. If you were a party host, you’d make sure every single person has a good time in ways that suit them. You’re that attentive.

Unfortunately, your Light, indeed babe, seems to attract a lot of harmful bugs. No matter how much you give, it’ll never be enough and nothing you do will stop the gossip and badmouthing and backstabbing. Because essentially, these bottom-feeders are already bitter about their own pathetic lives. They hate you as much as they hate themselves for not having the courage to feel deserving of the abundance you’ve worked hard for.

S A V A G E – 4 of Wands

VIBE: Hurt by NewJeans

‘Leave them at the bottom of the grave they dug for you.’ – something I saw on Pinterest

Because you’re too kind, too giving, I think you’re the type of person who wouldn’t have the heart to leave people behind where they are miserable. Umm… you need to grow up a little bit more and finally see for yourself how pointless that is. You’re just one person, what makes you think you could save everybody? I hope you don’t yourself turn into a megalomania who thinks others wouldn’t survive without your charity.

Leave that toxic environment and you will regenerate yourself. As you do so, you become a vibrational match to some kind of a Soul Tribe situation where you’ll be met with people who aren’t the least bit parasitic. You’ve got to believe you’re deserving of a symbiosis mutualistic kind of relationships and friendships for them to manifest, OK?

As for the anklebiters? Hurt them with your leaving them. Hurt them with your totally ignoring and blocking them. I’m not saying you have to throw a brick at them for all the disrespect they’ve dealt on you. I’m sure your change of attitude will hurt the living shit out of them. And one day, when you’re famous and important, they’ll see you, alright. They’ll see you for all that you’ve always been capable of doing and they’ll regret they didn’t treat you better. And they’ll wallow in immense pain for not having access to you anymore. Nevermore. Leave them hurting in their shame and regrets. That’ll kill them😈

SWEET MOTHER OF REVENGE 🔻💙

VILLAIN ORIGIN STORY – Gold Physician (Herodotus)

Reclaiming Lilith – Priestess of Prosperity

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 2 – You See This Glow-Up? NOW You Jelly

the way your beauty irritates people – Knight of Wands Rx

VIBE: 28 Reasons by Seulgi

First and foremost, you’re a damn rare beauty. I don’t care if you don’t think that highly of your physical appearance; bitch, you’re goddamn attractive. Take it or leave it. Your problem is that you act like you’re ordinary and that irritates the living shit out of your enemies because they think you’re fake. ‘How dare you act ordinary when you’re obviously that pretty. Are you mocking us??’ Yeah… Why the fuck are you surrounded by ordinary beauties? Have you got Venus squaring Pluto? Huehue~

Anyway, in any situation you’re an eye candy and everybody can see that. Maybe you’re dense enough to not see how others see you, but all these friends of yours, they’re hyper aware of how all eyes are on you the moment you slightly move. You stir the air in a way no other human does. It’s because there’s passion and authenticity in you that make you vibrate on a much higher level than most people. Really, you’re a rare gem but this could get you in danger a lot.

You’re the type of beauty that invites enemies actually because of your friendly disposition. Like, there’s this annoying gap that irritates people in ways even they don’t really understand. The gap between your intense beauty/attraction and your general politeness. You’re soft spoken, cheerful and helpful. For the most part, you’re a ball of joy and if you’re a girl, boys like you A LOT. You’re fun. You’re cool. You’re smart and creative. A lot funnier than people assume. You’re the IT GIRL. But the envious ones call you a pick-me LMAO

Envious girls put a lot of effort into brandishing you as a trashy character but by doing that, even the boys could see who’s the real G here. And well, wouldn’t that annoy their trashy asses further?🤷🏻‍♀️They’re literally ruining their own image by trying to ruin you🤡

silencing the negative self-talk – 8 of Wands Rx

VIBE: Forgive Me by BoA

Now that that’s out of the way, let’s have a heart-to-heart. Honey, you’ve got to stop pretending like you’re a sweet Venus all the time. You’re not. You and I know that. Deep down, there’s an evil bitch in you that wants to play with fire. I think you’ve tried to curb your Lilith practically your entire Life. Perhaps on a subconscious level you know this of you and you want to avert your eyes from looking at your Lilith. That’s how you seem fake sometimes.

Highly intuitive people can smell the Devil in you, but you act like you’re an angel all the time. And that’s annoying because your Lilith is literally a men-magnet and this often takes away attention from other girls but you act all innocent💩I’m not saying it’s your fault—I sense that for the most part, you don’t even consciously want this intense attention; I’m saying there’s this mechanism about how you’re perceived by your environment.

Aaand why do you think that is? Of course, because subconsciously, you want all of this attention. You always want to be wanted and liked and desired. You crave that shit so bad because when you were tinier you felt unseen. Un-understood. Unappreciated. Now, doesn’t matter who or how, you just want everybody to see you and want you, but you’re not gonna give them back any of that attention. You want to be unattainable. Actually, you are unattainable. You don’t easily let people get close to you. You don’t want people in your personal space. You just want the a t t e n t i o n.

S A V A G E – 5 of Wands Rx

VIBE: Savage by aespa

You know, this is all just a lil game to you. Deep down, you’re fighting this urge to snatch everybody’s boyfriends and husbands. Sometimes you get frightened by your evil desires because if you were unhinged, you’d want all these married people to want you more than they want their spouses. It’s not even that serious. You just want to come on top of everybody. You’re secretly envious of these little bitches who are—probably—loved by their spouses. And even when you can see there’s no Love in that connection, you’re still jealous that someone wants to commit themselves to these undeserving mediocre asses.

You feel all alone in this world. People are only nice to you because of your looks or whatever else that’s not even that important. And people are also nasty to you because of your looks and everything else that’s not even that important. It’s been one insanely difficult Life for you. You’re sad. You feel abandoned and unwanted in spite of all the shallow praises. And there’s this quiet rage inside that wants to punish everyone for not caring about the REAL you.

Bitch, grow up a little bit and you’ll see that low-quality people get married to their fellow mediocre asses. You don’t play in the same dimension as them so don’t lower your standards🤭One day you’ll see who’s gonna end up divorced and miserable because they all married the wrong people! Nah, that’s not even the important part LMAO The important part is when you’re the one marrying a Soul Mate after all of your spiritual and psychological glow-up that made you a vibrational match to so much REAL LOVE and you’re surrounded by all this money and beauty.

You never needed their kind of a glow-up; you were born perfection. You needed a different kind of confidence to SLAY and be very happy.

SWEET MOTHER OF REVENGE 🔻❤️

VILLAIN ORIGIN STORY – Red Magus (Edward Kelly)

Reclaiming Lilith – Priestess of Happiness

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 3 – You Thought I’d Give It All to You

the way your beauty irritates people – 2 of Cups

VIBE: The Weekend by BIBI

You’re this absolutely weird mix of devil and angel in one body. You attract ALL kinds of people. Young, old. Men, women. Animals and toddlers are either terrified by you or LOVE you to oblivion. People always want something from you, right? They either simp for you or act like you owe them something—usually when their simping doesn’t pay off LMAO That’s really weird… Your entire existence is weird. I like that😉

You’re definitely giving, charitable, although in reality you’re really selective with whom you allow in your personal space. ‘Just because I’m friendly with you doesn’t mean I wanna be friends with you,’ kind of vibe. Nevertheless, people are silly, and they cultivate this weird intense desire within them. They build all these unnatural expectations around you having to give or share with them.

In their sick minds, they demand this. When you don’t humour them their sick demands, they get ULTRA bitter, probably even resentful. And then they seek to destroy you. Weird. Weird. Weird. You never even intended to lead them on. People are crazy when you’re around. The worst part is, they never even had your best interest at heart. They just wanted something from you—energy, attention, favouritism, gentle caress, who the hell cares.

How much Neptunian/Pisces/12th House energy do you have for you to be this way?😷HAHAH

silencing the negative self-talk – Page of Pentacles

VIBE: KAZINO by BIBI

Unlike the other Piles, you don’t seem to have a lot of neg self-talk. You’re sassy, bitchy, and you embrace your negative qualities because you see the value in them. Society ain’t perfect either anyway, what’s so wrong in being me the way that I am? You go, girlie~ You’re a total believer in revenge and vengeance. You ARE the definition of Lilith incarnate. Were you born with it? Did you develop yourself to be this way? Who the fuck knows—that’s your very own secret ingredient~

You’d rather let the mortals hurt and rot in their own stupidity than let yourself be the one to hurt. Unless you’re defending those you care about, you’re never sustaining hurt. You hurl lemons at all your enemies before they could get closer. Any step closer, you squirt that lemon in their eyes. Their fault. You warned them already! ‘Hey, I’m nice but I ain’t no saint,’ is your philosophy.

And when you’re really, really, really done with someone’s bullshit, you ain’t afraid to spill some blood. You’re gonna be smart about it though. You plan quietly and attack unexpectedly with a demonic angel smile on your face. ‘Send a message to your god; you’ve messed with the wrong bitch, BITCH.’

You are a menace to society👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻

S A V A G E – XII The Hanged Man Rx

VIBE: Vengeance by BIBI

See, you are one sneaky bitch. Though you are a fucking menace to society, you know how to act righteous. You also know how to act like the victim should the occasion arise—but this is rare because you like to appear on top of everyone. Still, you’re quite masterful at creating sad or horrendous backstories that would justify your wreaking havoc upon your enemies, or even just society at large. Your sense of morality is kinda shrewd LMAO And I think that’s because you’ve been at the mercy of someone else’s shrewd behaviour before, probably when you were a lot younger.

That made you realise you never wanted to be the victim anymore. If anything, you’ll terrorise everyone so you maintain your own safety. WHEW. You’ve got your trust broken in authority. Their rules didn’t protect you or even hurt you. So, you believe new rules should be made in their place. You make your own rules and you don’t care if that hurts some people. You have this dicktionary explaining what kinds of dickhead are worth sacrificing to your new-world agenda.

🤣🤣🤣You’re CRAZY!

I believe in you. I think you could change the world. But I think you’re largely only interested in your own world. The whole world? That’s too much trouble. You aren’t keen on destroying your small queendom/kingdom in exchange for world domination—you smart like that. Keep at that. WHOA.

SWEET MOTHER OF REVENGE 🔻🧡

VILLAIN ORIGIN STORY – Green Magus (John Dee)

Reclaiming Lilith – Priestess of Divination

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[PAC Masterlist] [Part 1] [Part 3]

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[almacambiondaughterofsaleos]

The First Two Seasons Should Have Been About Collecting As Many Guests To Prove The Hotel Could Work

Seriously, the hotel guests could have been characters developed from the early concepts including Mimzy, Baxter, Crymini, and even Villa. Sir Pentious and Cherri Bomb joined but it was muddled down by squishing in the heaven plot line that shouldn't have been there when we are not yet establishing characters. Seriously, by getting as much guests as possible you could work towards developing side characters we can come to enjoy and attach ourselves. They don't have to be the center of every episode but we can see them converse among the main cast and their fellow patrons so we can feel the hotel is thriving and might have a chance. Also we can have different characters try out the hotel for different motives than redemption like Mimzy using Al to hide her from loan sharks and she obliges. Cherri Bomb joining to be near to Angel Dust and gradually dropping her more toxic enabling traits to become a better person for his sake.

Seriously, there was so much potential in patron hunting yet it was thrown away to get too fast to the grand stuff. That would mean leave Lucifer for season three so that the heaven half can be used for later but be in the lingering background. I could see each patron coming in and having their own song that tells about themselves and their motives in life. I also would loved it to show how they got into hell and none of that I am a victim of society bs, but genuine things they did in life that condemned them and then realize over the series they need to improve themselves to become better people.

I am thinking they should make Villa a hellhound hellborn who joins because she could be a worker for Velvette and wants to get away from her. I think it could open the idea of Charlie also looking out for hellborns and could double the hotel as a refuge. And to emphasize the Crymini is a hyena and a sinner.

[thewitchandtheassassin]

Harbinger (Rio Vidal x Reader)

ATTENTION: IF YOU DON'T KINDA WANT A SPOILER FOR AAA, THIS AIN'T FOR YOU. Catch up before reading. Thanks!

Summary: Not quite suited for the human world, you find your place among the shadows.

Words: 2522

Warnings: SMUT, dark smut (you're banging death, what do you expect?), blood play/kink, knife play? (not really but maybe?), language, dark!reader, death, mentions of death, seriously - there's some death, spoiler but I already put a massive disclaimer so if you're spoiled at this point, I can't help.

A/N: I finished this while getting toasty and my vv toasty partner proofread this, if we missed something... eh, no we didn't lol

The first time you met her - death incarnate - was probably the best moment of your life, during the absolute worst day of your life.

Quite a strange combination, huh?

Sitting on the steps of your former home, burning heat licked at your back, but never touched you. Later, when the trauma had lessened and the shock faded into numbness, you would remember shadow meeting flame, keeping the fire at bay. But for now, all you knew was that everyone in that home - in that place of torture and hatred and evil - were dead… and it was all your fault.

There were sirens in the distance and you knew it would take another ten minutes before they reached you. Before they demanded answers you didn’t have.

Cold, emotionless eyes glanced up in time to see a figure - long legs, the stench of wet earth and iron clinging like a perfume, dark leathers - dropping down onto the steps beside you. Where there should be warmth, there was nothing but a distinct lack thereof and an urge to inch away, though you ignored the instinct.

“Those two sure had it coming, huh?” a woman asked, face concealed by a heavy black veil. “I don’t blame you for lashing out. A monster and an enabler? Rotten to the core, really. And to burn down an entire house in the process? Dramatic - but effective.”

Curious tan fingers reached out to the black wisps clinging to your back, smirking as they curled around her digits like a cat wrapping around its owner. As if they belonged to her.

“How long has this been a thing?” she cooed, tone borderline mocking as shadow and darkness burrowed closer to her.

“Too long,” you answered, rough and crackling as ash worked its way up your throat. It was obvious what she was asking about; you weren’t in any state to shoo them away. Your control of the shadows was tentative at the best of times. Right now, you were just lucky that they were staying somewhat nearby.

“Or not long enough,” she argued, rising with a flourish. For a split second, you could see her countenance beneath the hood and stared into dark eyes, even as skull and bone became visible. Her brow arched, either with amusement or surprise you couldn’t tell, before a cocky smirk twisted her lips.

Truly, it wasn’t surprising to meet Death, except you’d expected her to cart you away with those in the smoldering home.

“We shall meet again one day, sweetheart. Until then…” she bowed low, teasingly, before disappearing with a stiff breeze that seemed to steal your breath as it vanished into the night.

-X-

The second meeting was less painful but equally-

“If you wanted to see me again, darling, you didn’t need such theatrics,” Death purred from the shadows as you stormed away from the fraternity. The screams of panicking college kids met your ears, grating your nerves, but you’d managed to escape before anyone had noticed your existence.

Or your involvement.

“My apologies, Lady Death. Next time I murder someone on accident, I’ll keep the dramatics to a minimum,” you groused, head down as you hurried away from another death you’d caused unintentionally - again.

This time, it had happened in less of a rage and more of a… panicked stupor? You wanted to live. You feared those stupid, drunken idiots were a danger to that. And the shadows you, unfortunately, command honored your wishes.

It was quiet and for a moment, you assumed - maybe hoped? - that the courier of souls had grown tired of your attitude and gone to collect her prizes, but as you turned a corner onto an empty street, your assumptions were proven wrong.

Hissing as a blade met the juncture between your throat and shoulder, your back slammed into sharp brick. The point was unnaturally sharp, perfect for carving away souls from bodies. Dark eyes stared at the crimson staining your flesh, hood falling away to expose a stunning woman. Here, without a soul to claim, she looked almost… human.

Supernatural, but human.

The steel slipped deeper into your skin and you moaned, in pain - and in pleasure?

I can figure that out later.

Death yanked it out and you whined, eyes slipping closed as blood poured from the wound, though it shifted from pitiful to needy as a cool tongue ran along the length of the gash. The sting lessened, but Death’s mouth remained on your collarbone, tongue and teeth lavishing the newly healed area.

“You taste divine,” she groaned before pulling away, staring at you with a calculating expression. Her eyes were hooded, but thoughtful. The blade slid over your skin again, though it did not pierce. She simply traced over it with the tip. “I could use someone with your… proclivities.”

Swallowing dryly, you arched a brow.

“I am Death. All roads lead to me, but I do not claim lives that aren’t yet mine. I only hunt those who have escaped me for too long. Death is the great equalizer - and the ultimate balance. To take only those who are bad or good upsets the great balance and blah, blah, blah.” She rolled her eyes, annoyed by the rhetoric instilled into her. “And Earth’s Mightiest Heroes are fucking it all up. All their ‘good deeds’ are upsetting that. I need someone to off-set them. For every good-“

“You need an evil,” you mumbled, eyes tracing the sharp line of her jaw as she grinned devilishly at you.

“Exactly!” she leaned closer, teeth nipping at your earlobe. “What do you say, sweetheart? Want to be mine for all eternity?”

It would’ve been so easy to say no. To try and live an utterly boring life in this miserable town. To settle down and hide away from the world. Hell, maybe you could seek out the Avengers and learn and join. All you had to say was…

“Yes,” you breathed, accepting your fate. She was going to follow you until you gave in, so why fight the inevitability? All roads led back to her. “I accept your gift, Death.”

“Call me Rio, sweetheart. Death is so… formal.”

-X-

Existence after Rio was… strange. No longer confined by mortal restraints, your power only blossomed as you became her Harbinger. Shadows would search you out, whispering the secrets of their owners, clinging to you like children finding their parents after getting lost. Darkness and shadow bent to your will; doing your bidding.

And once the humanity fell away, keeping the balance became less daunting. For every act of good the Avengers - or those adjacent - did, you completed a task of your own.

For years, it kept you busy. A life for a life, light for dark. You began to understand the need for such consequences.

“If you take away only those who are evil, good diminishes in those that are left. If no one can see evil, how will they ever know what is truly good, darling?”

But as things fell into place, your relationship with Death - Rio - shifted. Each deed, every act of devotion, was met with teasing praise and a fraction of affection (and more often than not, a new scar on your flesh that seemed to land near the others). And those moments - those flashes of endearment - would linger for days until you found yourself panting wantonly.

Yet no good deed ever goes unpunished.

It happened on a Tuesday. You were lounging in your temporary abode, scouring the television for something to keep your attention, when Rio came bounding through the door with a newspaper in hand.

“Aren’t those a bit outdated?” you chuckled, swallowing a heavy sip of your whiskey.

“Isn’t it a little early to be drinking?” she bit back teasingly before landing on the couch beside you. You lifted your tumbler in acknowledgment before downing the rest of the amber liquid. “Anyways, that’s not why I’m here. The Avengers are no more.”

Pausing through your scrolling, you glanced over at her curiously.

“Seems the world doesn’t appreciate their great services,” she sneered, sarcasm dripping like venom. “But I’m certain that won’t stop the wanna-be do-gooders.”

Humming thoughtfully, you replied, “Well, I suppose that makes keeping the balance easier.”

“Maybe I’ll have less souls I’m owed to chase down,” she grumbled, tossing the paper onto your makeshift coffee table. “Just breaks my heart.”

You snorted, attention returning to the television. “Do you even have a heart?”

Your fingers barely brushed the remote before a steady, albeit light, weight fell upon your thighs and you came face to face with dark, devouring eyes as deliberate hands found the back of your neck, gripping the nape. Instinctively, yours fell to her waist, dragging her close as you tried to ignore the way her breath hitched.

“Of course I do,” she whispered, cool breath fanning across warm cheeks. “It’s black and it beats for you.”

You nearly suffocated beneath the flames licking their way up your belly. For a brief moment, you thought she was simply teasing but the intense, pointed - deep - stare left you breathless and questioning.

“Rio…” you exhaled, watching her eyes flutter closed as traveling hands slipped to your scarred collarbone. The sting was immediate as sharp, dangerous nails dug into the forever healing flesh but you made no move to lean away, embracing the ache.

“Are you mine?” she whispered, nose skimming yours.

“I think I always have been,” you breathed, relishing the low moan that escaped her parted lips.

Her fingers seemed to rip through scar tissue as her mouth crashed into yours possessively. Teeth and tongue and lips all blended into a singular feeling that left you floating. Swallowing her moan, your fingers dug into her hips with a grip that would pain mortals, though it only spurned her onward as she began a steady grind against your thigh.

“Fuck.” Her whine was music to your ears and you leaned forward, sinking your teeth into her neck. The flesh dipped beneath the force, yet never broke, which was both a blessing and a curse. Who wouldn’t want to leave their mark on such a stunning creature.

There really was something poetic about knowing you were going to fuck the purest embodiment of death.

Lifting her into your arms, you promptly settled her onto the large couch, hovering over her writhing, prone form. For a split second you regretted not having bought a bed but as incessant digits tangled in your hair and forced you down, you decided it didn’t matter.

Despite the lack of human warmth, kissing Rio was something you never wanted to be without. She tasted of the earth, which should’ve been off-putting but you didn’t mind it. It was natural and so wholly her. No glamours, no tricks.

Just Rio.

Your hand worked the button of her jeans, deftly unhooking it before your hand was under restrictive clothing, sliding over velvet skin. Wet flesh dragged along your fingers and Rio’s grip tightened in your hair.

“Don’t you dare fucking tease,” she growled, eyes darkening unnaturally before they rolled back slightly, lids slamming shut as three fingers found a home inside her. Your pace was brutal, barely giving her a chance to gasp in a breath before your thumb circled her clit.

There was a perk to being an immortal goddess. The lack of pain. You’d never have to worry about hurting the woman beneath you. Truthfully, you hardly felt pain anymore yourself, outside of the blade she wielded deftly. As if she were the only person to hold such power over you.

You moaned as her free hand clawed down your back, nails slicing the fabric of your shirt like a hot knife and leaving behind trails of crimson. Teeth snagged your bottom lip, biting until blood and shadow dribbled into her mouth before her tongue soothed the tear.

“Fuck,” she whined, “If you s-stop, I’ll k-kill you.”

Smirking, you tilted her head and buried your teeth into her neck once more, using the momentum of your hips to drive yourself deeper into her.

Heat twisted and arced inside you, burning away everything except the urge to worship this divine creature before you. This moment deserved to be immortalized: Rio, the Eternal End, bucking into each thrust, chasing your fingers, and you, her devoted Harbinger, rushing her to a swift release.

Mouthing over the tanned expanse of flawless skin, you moaned unabashedly as her walls tightened around you, trapping you inside. She was everywhere; in your mind, on your fingers, in your soul.

“Oh fuck, fuck, f-“ a silent scream stole the string of curses, nails sinking into your shoulder and holding on for dear life as you forced her through the first orgasm and immediately into her second. The arch of her back and the throaty moans made the claws in your muscles and your blood-slicked back worth it.

She slumped heavily onto the couch, breathless and glassy-eyed as she stared up at you. Leaning down, your lips found hers in a gentle, calming embrace as she crawled down from her high. The sting of her fingers leaving mangled flesh barely registered as you lost yourself in the goddess. Smirking, you slowly dragged your fingers into your mouth, cleaning away the wetness clinging to them, and the moan that reverberated in your chest was involuntary as her taste painted your tongue like fine wine.

“I needed that,” she laughed, a familiar, answering smirk upturning her lips. “But next round, the rest of these come off.” She tugged at the tattered remains of your shirt, watching hunks of cloth and thread tumble to the floor.

Next round.

Proof she wanted this to be more than a single instance in time. That filled you with relief, but something weighted and cold found its way into your stomach. Hesitating, you shifted to cup her cheek reverently. “My heart and soul are yours to do with as you please. I need you… to know.”

Whatever happened next, you needed her to know that she was wrapped irrevocably and inevitably around every piece of your very being.

The darkness faded from her eyes, growing almost soft as she peered into yours. She gripped your face in response, thumbs stroking below your eyes gently before a hand fell upon your heart.

“I’ll kill anyone who tries to take you from me. Rules be damned. You’re mine,” she vowed and it was sweeter than any proclamation of love she could’ve ever bestowed upon you. “Those scars say so.”

Her fingers skated over the puckered flesh along your collar and you chuckled, realization washing over you. Those had never simply been sadistic foreplay.

“I’ll kill anyone who believes they can keep me from you. I wear your brand, after all,” you promised in return, relishing in her delighted, almost maniacal laughter.

Nipping at your jawline, she purred as fingers danced across the drying red of your collarbone, “Well, maybe I should add a few more. Just so there’s no confusion.”

“Maybe you should.”

[katyawriteswhump]

Omega Found, Omega Lost, part 1

Title: Omega found, Omega lost; Chapter: 1/5; WC: 2372 Rating: M (will be E in later parts); Tags: Steddie, Omega Steve, Alpha Eddie, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff. For whumptober 2024, day 1 prompts: race against the clock, search party, panic attack.

Summary: Newly presented Omega, Steve, gets lost in a storm while out searching for Dustin. Unclaimed and un-mated, he's vulnerable to any predatory Alpha... but he can trust Eddie Munson, right? Whump, whump, whump but also shameless fluff!

Billion x thank you to @wheneverfeasible who kindly enabled the omega-verse fun <3<3<3

Chapter 1: Race against the clock (also here on Ao3)

Steve parked up on the edge of the forest and wandered out, wondering which of the noisy search parties he should tag along with. Icy drizzle lashed his glowing cheeks. The skies churned with clouds that resembled purple-black bruises. The winter storm brewing was nearly as intense as the shitstorm over the missing pups.

"Steve?” Chief Hopper left the group he’d been bossing around and thundered over. “What the hell are you doing?"

"What does it look like?" Steve wrapped his arms tight around himself. Being yelled at by the most Alpha Alpha in the town pack was super-scary. He lifted his chin defiantly. "Dustin is my friend. I can’t stay on the bench for this."

"Don’t be a fool. Loan Alphas roam these woods at night. You know that, kid. You fall out of step, get left behind? You’re a stripling unmated Omega—you do the math.”

Yeah, yeah, yeah. Lone Alphas are animals who’d as soon spit-roast me alive as hump me. I’ve heard the scary bedtime stories so many times they genuinely make me doze off. Anyhow, they’d be freakin’ brain-dead, evolutionary full-stop Alphas to be skulking around for kicks on a night like this. 

Steve didn’t say any of that, of course. He mumbled towards his boots, “I could come with you?” 

"I can't be looking out for Hawkins’ mouthiest, most hothead Omega, when…"

Steve was never going to win. Even his trump-card reason for joining the search—the walkie-talkie he’d been trying to contact Dustin on for hours—was summarily dismissed.

“We have Lucas’s radio,” said Hopper. “He’s helping with the search.”

“Sinclair? Seriously?” Steve barely kept the whine from his voice. “He’s a pup! Look, I can take care of—"

"Omega, go home."

Steve’s breath jammed in his lungs. Hopper’s deep rumbling growl was pretty much inarguable. As was the arm Hopper slung around him to guide him back toward his car.

Steve drove off. He was so goddamn frustrated, and the worry inside him made his stomach churn as wildly as the clouds. He was nearly home before he slammed to a halt, tyres screeching and skidding.

Screw them all! He was an Omega, not a freakin’ pushover, plus there were pups in danger. Okay, not his pups, and in fact only a few years younger than him. That was total irrelevance. It was his duty as much as anybody’s to look out for them. In fact, presenting as Omega had been a goddamn relief, explaining a lot about his protective instincts toward younger kids.

Oh, and also about Eddie Munson, who’d presented as Alpha the year before Steve presented Omega. 

Simply thinking about Eddie stirred something wild in the pit of his belly. Eddie had been hitting on him, and yeah, Steve was interested. But was Eddie serious?

Eddie Munson never seemed quite serious about anything. Plus, Steve’s parents totally didn’t approve of him… and Steve had no capacity to worry about that mind-fuck tonight.

Dustin was missing. Obsessing over Eddie was making him confused and even more stressed-out, when he ought to be super-pumped to find his younger friend.

He drove back to the fringes of the forest then retrieved his walkie-talkie from the glove compartment. He wrapped himself up in woolly mittens and a scarf—newly knitted by his dad, so it was soft and springy and smelled comfortingly of home—and stomped off in the direction of Skull Rock. He’d a hunch that Dustin was with his girlfriend, so there was a small chance they’d moseyed in that direction, and then…

…Christ, he couldn’t bear to think what might’ve happened.

Steve gritted his teeth against the biting wind. Under the twilight, the fresh snow looked magical, like sweet frosting on the naked branches. He didn’t enjoy it for long. Soon, he waded through drifts that rose to his knees, the dampness soaked through his clothes and seeped into his bones. 

Worse, he wasn’t sure where he was.

He got out his flashlight. Dammit. He figured he knew this part of the forest like the back of his hand. Everything looked crazily different in the snow.

His breath grew short, and the cold burned his chest. Crap, he was scared, but he couldn’t surrender to it. He pulled out his walkie-talkie, removed his mittens to work the thing: “Dustin? Do you copy, you little shit?”

“Steve? Yeah! I copy! Holy crap, you have literally no idea! I’m fiiine, but there was this mammouth search, and…” Fuzzy white noise interrupted Dustin’s voice. Steve caught more snatches: “Suzie… cake… hot chocolate…” 

More white noise. Then nothing. Steve dialled madly, seeking an open channel.

“Dustin? Dustin! Anybody? Do you copy? What the heck? Oh, no, no, no, no, no. Please, come back!”

His radio was dead. Totally dead.

“Shit… Shit!”

The cold stiffened his fingers, hampering his efforts to get it working again. Night shrouded the forest completely, save the occasional flash of a near full moon between the fast-moving clouds. 

Oh God. Oh God. This isn’t happening. I’ve got to get home. I’ve got to get home! 

He pulled his mittens back on, smothered his face in his sodden scarf. He could barely glean the reassuring scent. Madly waving his flashlight around didn’t help, as the snow had healed over his footfalls already. Rooting himself to the spot, his mind began seizing up.

Oh help! Oh God… I can’t… can’t! Not by myself… I can’t… I need… Oh shiiiiiit!

Eddie Munson popped into his head.

Which was kinda screwball, but he’d take it. It wasn’t exactly a vision of Eddie, more of a feeling: an idea of Eddie’s body enveloping him, which set warmth glowing beneath his chilled skin. Steve wiped his eyes, shook himself as if waking from a dream. 

Deep breaths. You can do this, Harrington.

The wind had been behind him on his way, right? Okay, so he had to fight against it to return to his car. He set off, wishing the nasty-ass air would stay still, rather than battering him with slap after slap, much like his increasingly negative thoughts: 

Oh Jesus, he was an idiot! 

He couldn’t even follow his Omega instincts correctly without screwing the hell up. Maybe it would be different if he had an Alpha who wanted to mate with him, rather than dumb teen crushes. If he had a nest of his own, to feather for his pups. Oh God! Was he gonna freeze to death, or…

Oh, shit, shit, shit!

When he was home and safe, it was easy to laugh off scare stories about rogue Alphas. Right now, all he could think of was Tommy H, cackling in his face when he’d first presented Omega:

“You are gonna fuck this up so bad, Harrington. You’re such an airhead, you’ll wind up chained in some cave, breeding machine and fuck toy, till you’re not so pretty, and then…”

SNAP!

For a fleeting heartbeat, the sound alone shocked Steve, ripping him from his fearful thoughts.

Then the searing pain in his ankle tore up his leg and spine, and all but fried his brain.

He collapsed onto his butt in the snow, dropping his flashlight. He blinked through the gloom at the snare around his outstretched left leg. He’d walked straight into an old hunters’ trap or…

Maybe this is how those lone Alphas snare their victims?

The pain gathered pace, forcing him into gasping sobs. He was so cold. So scared. No more than a husk of quivering flesh. He huddled into a ball, small as possible, apart from his trapped and bleeding leg. It felt like every nerve and tendon was being ripped and chewed, over and over, by razor-sharp teeth, while cold gnawed hungrily through the rest of him.

When he tried to think, panic throttled him afresh. All he could do was feel, and all he felt was the all-consuming scorching of the fire and the ice, and… something else… another unendurable agony… a desperate yearning:

Please, Eddie… Alpha… Help me?

…

A strange gut feeling propelled Eddie to go open the door of the trailer. 

Fuck, it was cold! He stepped out, closed the door behind him, and squinted into the darkness. 

To be fair, Eddie liked the snow, and he never felt the cold or the heat too bad. Something about growing up in the trailer, he guessed—ball-shrivelling frigid in the winter, and sweatier in the summer than the contents of his snuggest leather pants.

Then Eddie smelt it, striking through the icy air like lightning. 

Fear. Blood! An Omega in trouble? Yes. And not just any Omega. This was the Omega he’d been crazy about for months. Okay, yeah, Steve had been playing kinda macho, hard to get. On the other hand, Eddie perceived that, deep down, Steve was plain scared of him, and he wasn’t sure how to make that right.

He nearly fled straight into the forest. Then he checked himself and went back inside to throw on a warm jacket and grab a flashlight. Steve was in trouble, crying and vulnerable. Eddie had to find him before some meathead Alpha—or lowlife Beta—got their filthy claws into him.

“Hold on, Baby. I’m a comin’.”

The journey passed in a blur. He muscled his way through the snow like he was the goddamn Hulk, not a rookie Alpha of barely a year, with a slender-for-an-Alpha frame. Before long, the scent that drew him grew overwhelming. Steve’s for sure. Blood, tears and naked fear dampened his usual delicious musk, which was like bananas and cream mingled with something even more potent and “grabby-handy.” 

Yup, Steve usually smelt as addictive as the finest weed he’d ever supped.

Eddie now stood dead still. The hairs on the back of his neck bristled, while he swept his flashlight beam across the snow, and then, “Steve!”

Eddie flung himself forward to where Steve was huddled. The white stuff smothered Steve so completely that, without the scent, Eddie could’ve missed him. Eddie dumped his flashlight and blanketed himself around Steve, shielding him from the storm. Steve tensed, whimpered, and struggled slightly, almost elbowing Eddie off. Eddie braced him tighter, rubbed soothing circles on his back.

“Sssssh, it’s okay, Baby. It’s me. It’s Eddie. I gotcha, I gotcha.”

It pained Eddie to unwind himself even as far as he needed to examine the terrified Omega.

“H-hurts,” whispered Steve, curling into Eddie, burrowing his face into Eddie’s chest. Eddie carefully roamed his hands down Steve’s body, checking for injuries.

His gaze alighted on the dark stains in the snow around Steve’s ankle.

And the metal hunter’s snare, lying by Steve’s leg and half-lost in a drift.

Steve’s hands were bare and bleeding too. Obviously, he’d somehow pried the thing off. Eddie’s blood boiled, while a terrible collapsing sensation in his chest seemed to tell him he’d failed already. 

“P-please don’t eat me,” Steve murmured. “Please help me.”

“Stevie?” He touched his knuckles to Steve’s pale cheek, captured a gaze fogged with pain and fear. “Look at me! Hey? Not gonna hurt you. Jesus, you know that, right?”

Steve kinda nodded, comprehension glinting, then his face crumpled completely, and he started to weakly cry. Eddie folded him against his chest, trying not to move his injured leg then gently tucked Steve’s injured hands under the folds of his jacket.

He must stop any bleeding, and get Steve out of here before he froze to death. The wind whooped ever harder through the trees, the snow battered them in horizontal gusts, and worse, Eddie was rattled, too.

Eddie Munson had never been a hero. 

Right outta the gate, this lousy, hierarchical world had conditioned him to be an outcast, a reject. A nothing. On the other hand, presenting as an Alpha had made some sense to him. After all, each time the world dealt him a crappy card, which was pretty much every day, he’d always been able to flip the bird and cackle like a maniac in its force-conformity face.

Right now, though, he was bordering on losing his shit. And Alphas weren’t supposed to do that, right?

Focus, Munson. First, you need to calm and comfort him.

He gathered Steve closer, so the Omega was huddled halfway into his lap, his head tucked on Eddie’s shoulder. Then Eddie dipped to rub his face in the curve of Steve’s neck—yup, right on that tantalizingly unbroken mating gland—dousing him in his scent. All the while, he shushed and soothed him, till Steve’s whimpers disintegrated into soft sighs.

Then he kept on gently rocking and cuddling him.

Steve’s breaths beat against Eddie's throat, and he sensed the too-fast patter of the Omega's heart. Boy, Steve aced at presenting tough. Right now, stripped bare, Eddie saw only how goddamn fragile he truly was.

“Thank you, Alpha,” murmured Steve, startling Eddie, “D-doesn’t hurt so much. Not c-cold anymore. Can’t feel my leg.”

Okay, that was a touch disturbing.

Once again, Eddie forced himself to focus. Which was harder than ever. This was the first time any Omega had called him Alpha, let alone one he was dippy about. If things were different, he’d have been howling ecstatically toward the next glimpse of the moon. Oh, and revelling in Steve’s ethereal prettiness, the shadow of those long lashes across his porcelain cheek, and the faintest vibration of the Omega’s purrs.

There was also the problematic fact that his knee-jerk notion of ‘comfort’ had been to douse Steve in his scent.

Good call, Munson. Douse first. Think later. When your dick’s gonna do most of the thinking for you.

Nope. This wasn’t a good time for his inner Alpha to dump him with a boner: “Okay, Baby, I’m gonna bind up your ankle, and then I’m gonna get you home.”

“Too tired. Want to sleep here. St-stay here with you.”

Yeah. Then we both die, Sweetheart.

Eddie pressed his lips to Steve’s temple. He thumbed Steve’s damp hair from those huge, befuddled eyes, and let his more protective Alpha instincts lead him:

“You gotta stay awake, Omega,” he growled. “Your Alpha is gonna take care of you, but you gotta come with me and do exactly what I say.”

Chapter 2 on tumblr Chapter 2 on AO3

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If anybody fancies reading more chapters, which will be posted at intervals throughout the month, I would be happy to tag :) Or follow #katya's omega whump

My endless outpourings of Steve whump can be found on AO3 here :)