#the elegant grim reaper

[knightscanfeeltoo]

Can't think of a Clever Meme for Testament...

[bemey]

[drugsorgasmsandcheese]

to kiss and to die | l. howlett

old man!logan howlett x fem!grim reaper!reader

description: in which death has never been so peaceful

warnings: logan’s death, angst, fluff, not beta read, pics used are not mine and were found on pinterest, the use of one latin word so if it’s badly translated i do apologise.

word count: 2084

he was used to people on the richer side of town booking his limousine service. it was a limousine service, after all. so logan didn't think much of anything when he pulls up outside of a penthouse building and a young woman steps into the car, giving her name to confirm she ordered the service.

when logan confirms, she smiles and closes the door behind her. she screams money, but old money. there's class about her and the way she holds herself. back straight as she sits, one leg crossed over the other and her head held up high. he can't help but take her in. he's never been one to care about the likeness of a lady a woman could be, but there is beauty that radiates off her, that is her, that logan can't seem to shake.

her head is turned to look out to the window, gazing upon the lights of the city that never sleeps. she seems observant in the way she looks, like not a single detail could be missed by her and she wouldn't allow it if it slipped by. logan's eyes slip down to the outfit she wears: a short black dress with a slit in its side, a pair of sheer black tights, black leather heeled boots that hugged her calves, and a black leather trench coat. she's slick, she's elegant, she holds herself high and with might.

as he drives, he approaches a red light. the woman takes the time to pull out a compact mirror, reapplying her lip liner followed by a clear gloss. when she's done, she smacks her lips and places the items away. "you're a hard man to find, logan howlett."

logan's eyes snap up into the rear-view mirror as he starts the limousine up again. his name on her lips is like honeyed venom, he can't quite decipher the emotion that lingers in him when she speaks of him like she knows him. his hands clench on the wheel as he drove, keeping the ride smooth as he turns a corner.

"who are you?" he asks, his voice gravelly and gruff just like his appearance, eyes flicking between hers and the road.

the woman smiles softly, an odd reassurance about it as she does so. "a mutant, just like you." she speaks, honeyed tone never dropping.

teeth snarl at her response. "that's not an answer." he's lived what feels like a thousand lifetimes, and he knows that even people like him aren't to be trusted.

"'the reaper.'" there's a knowing look on her face as she, the reaper, confirms her identity.

mutants knew her, the stories and legends that were a tale as old as time itself. a mutant that dealt the card of death, one who escorted mutants into the afterlife, who resurrected those she believed were not quite done with living. she was all four horsemen of the apocalypse, a woman that wielded so much power the world was her sandbox. nothing more to play with. to see her was like to see a ghost - blink and she's gone.

his jaw clenches tightly. "and what do you want from me?" logan all but growls out.

"you seek me out. why?" she questions with such poise in her character that it's hard for logan to differentiate between talking to death and indulging in his own delusions.

her questions hangs in the air for a moment or two, it's not like either one are keeping count. he can't find the words, he's never been good with them. he's harsh, he's a brute, a killing machine. when is there time to talk when you're killing yourself by killing another?

but there's a security in her presence. she's reassuring, it's peculiar. he's face to face with death and logan's never felt so settled. "i'm old, and i'm tired. there's nothing left for me here."

the way she smiles at him was a comfort in his own as he pulls up to her destination, the limousine coming to a stop. "there's plenty left for you, logan." she sits forward, and logan only notices how she never wore her seatbelt. he supposed she didn't have to. "just because you are at war, doesn't mean you can't find peace."

there's always the discussion of god being all-knowing, but what of death? what of the reaper who knows your story, who escorts you to the place you shall forever remain. death knows, she knows.

the woman pulls out a slick, black business card that's tucked between her pointer and middle finger, handing it to logan. he takes it so gently that he scares himself. he's a brute and yet he's gentle when the time comes. it appears to just be a simple black card, but even with his weakened vision, he can feel the indents in it. 'THE REAPER.'

"no one understands pain better than death." she says and logan's eyes are still fixated on the card.

death, such a simple term given the complexity and intensity of the situation. of him, of her. the words ring out in his head, no one understands pain better than death.

his gaze snaps up, his expression stoic but calm, like he's accepting whatever fate she'll grant him. he watches as she leans forward and places her hand on his cheek. he never expected death to be so warm.

"don't be what they made you." she whispers, and he lets out a sigh in content, in relief. the weight of his regrets and his lost humanity have hung on him heavily, his shoulders finally being lifted.

it's been a long time since logan's been touched. he doesn't even know if he's ever been held like this, cradled almost. to be looked at in such understanding. solitude and loneliness have kept him a shell. he chased it out, leaning into her touch, and it's like she can see him. the guilt, the regret, the pain.

"that's all i am. that's all i know." logan replies. his voice is strained, like the battle he's fought against himself, in his mind, has finally come to light.

her thumb runs across his cheek slowly, brushing against his grey beard. "if death is what you wish, logan, don't let it be a slow one. you've been tortured long enough." her eyes lock onto his. "good men don't deserve to be tortured, and you are a good man. you are a man, not the soldier, or the monster, or the weapon they forced you into being."

logan's expressions softens at her words. and, for the first time in his life, he's being given a choice. the choice to die. not as a weapon, a monster, a soldier, but as a man.

his hand reaches up, brushing over her own cheek. death is warm. there's an intimacy behind it that he's craved for so long that logan feels like he's falling apart from the inside out, and it's different from how he's felt before.

"you have my card, use it. death is everywhere, logan, and so am i."

the feeling of human connection. he craves it. being secluded and a shell of himself has made him overwhelmed as their skin touches. "death," he murmurs, his voice hoarse and gruff like it always is "and you."

she nods, her lips twitching. "take care of yourself, superstes, it's not your time just yet." she finishes and pulls away, stepping out of the limousine and leaving logan entrapped within his mind. not at war, but at peace.

—

the next time logan sees the reaper is at the funeral. it’s expected, mutant reaper or not she’s bound to turn up when one dies. but he also knows it’s because his fingers had subconsciously stroked the sleek business card in his pocket.

she lingers by his side and he feels himself reaching out, grasping onto her hand and she returns to the touch. death is warm. their fingers interlock, and it’s a reassurance that she gives him like she did last time. like she can read his thoughts.

it’s not your time just yet.

the thought makes him reach into his pocket, fingers itching to grace the adamantium bullet he’s carried like his guilt for years but he can’t find it. it’s then that he realises the weight that settles in between their hands and he looks at her.

she still wears that leather trench coat, and a part of logan wonders if that’s her very own black cloak. it suits her, if it is. the air of sophistication, of elegance still surrounds the reaper, and another part of logan wonders if she’s always been like this, or if there was a time when she succumbed to her powers and became a beast like he had.

the reaper’s gaze meets logan’s, that same soft smile gracing her lips. “not just yet.” she speaks and logan nods, hand squeezing hers. human connection.

she stays with logan when gabriela lopez approaches him, and a part of her seems to physically soften at the sight of the woman. when he questions her about it later, she only responds with a question of her own. “what did i tell you?”

it takes a few seconds to recall. he can’t tell if it’s from the old age so his brain has wore down, or if he was so focused on being touched and looked at like he was understood that he forgot her words, until it clicks. “death is everywhere, and so are you.”

and all the reaper does is nod, not another word spoken. but she was the one who pushed for logan to accept the job of escorting laura, and he didn’t know why. but there is something so alluring about death that he couldn’t say no.

the reaper stays by logan’s side awhile longer, her scythe hanging over him like a thread. there’s a time when her fingers trace the scars over his skin that his weakened healing has failed to take care of of, and the word is uttered from her lips again: “superstes.”

he’s not quite sure what it means, what language it is, but she looks into his eyes as she says it. not at the scars, but at him. and it touches his soul.

there’s another time in the kitchen. the couple who had graced them into their homes after the accident, where it’s just them. there’s the slow music in the kitchen, and if his old self remembers correctly, it’s ‘dream a little dream of me.’

logan’s leant against the counter as the reaper approaches, taking his hand in hers; an offer. he’s reluctant at first, he’s not really one for dancing, but death is so tempting. the weight of the adamantium bullet in his pocket, the way she follows him everywhere.

his calloused hand slips into hers, and it’s not really dancing. they sway on their feet, her clutched close to his chest and his chin rests on top of her head. death is warm, and this is the human connection he has longed for for so long. he wants it to linger, to last longer, he needs it like a beggar, and logan is willing to get on his knees if he has to.

but when x-24 arrives, she’s as good as gone.

—

he meets the reaper again, and it’s like a setback in time the way her hand is outstretched in front of her, and the words escape from her lips in a promised whisper: “it’s your time, superstes.”

logan looks down at her hand and he smiles. it’s genuine, just like the one in his final moments, and he takes the reaper’s hand without a single moment of hesitation.

even in death, she is a warm embrace.

he holds her close to his chest, and logan can’t help but sway like the lyrics are behind them, and the reaper chuckles, following his movements. his head dips down, nose brushing against hers and logan lets out a sob. peace, all he’s ever wanted, has finally settled down upon him. in his death as he held laura’s hand, he knew what it felt like. to be at peace, to be loved, to die.

now, as he places a gentle kiss on the reaper’s lips, he knew what it was like to be loved by death, to find peace with death, to be kissed by death.

death is warm. death is beautiful. death is peace. death is…all a man like logan has ever wanted.

[puppycheesecake]

Death Flower - "A spooky, yet elegant blossom. Roses just don't cut it for the Grim Reaper. Try this flower to calm his qualms and get out of a deadly situation."

[glorified-phantom]

a/n: saw this man and immediately pulled out the google docs. Haven't written in a while so excuse the errors;;

Pairings: Grim Reaper x Gn!Mc

The rain.

Uncommon to most, especially the Grim Reaper himself. He’s seen it thousands of times, drops of water falling from the sky and turning into something greater or straying away, eventually evaporating and repeating the process. For the reaper, rain is a lot like life. Unfortunate souls, like droplets, are brought into the world and vanish once their time is up.

The reaper had seen the rain too many times to count, whether it be out collecting souls or from the window of his home. He doesn’t pay mind to it and doesn’t react to the drops that fall on him. Perhaps he had once, but witnessing those crystal drops fall repeatedly can get repetitive, even for the reaper.

So why. Why is it when you stand in the rain, laughing and hopping in puddles, does the rain not seem so… dull? Your laugh, the way your eyes crinkle when you smile. It makes his heart pound, makes the edges of his lips twitch upwards, and a laugh eventually escapes him. Seeing you prance in your raincoat, getting your hair damp despite having a hood. Don’t you get upset? Upset that you have to go back and wash up? Upset that your hair is messed up?

You don’t show any signs of annoyance, you don’t seem upset. He can’t understand that. The reaper had seen so many mortals like yourself get upset over the smallest things. But you look happy, you look like you love being in the rain, getting wet, and dancing to an inaudible beat. That makes you all the more surreal to him.

With a smile and a step forward by the reaper, you find his hands on you. Arm around your waist, free hand laced with yours. Your eyes shine like gems when you look at him and he resists the urge to claim your lips, in a split second, you go from mindlessly hopping to dancing under the soft patter of the rain.

Neither of you say anything, the reaper looks at you with his piercing gaze, eyes like lasers threatening to cut you in half. But you know him all too well, you can see the softness in his gaze. He leads you around, taking great care in making sure your feet don’t clash. His footsteps are elegant while yours are clumsy. He doesn’t say anything about it, you don’t expect him to. He knows that you’ll rip into him if he does and he doesn’t want to ruin the moment.

With a couple more twirls, he has your chest flush against his. He stares at you and you look back, tilting your head. The reaper sighs, “ You’re insufferable. “ He whispers, and before you can retort, his lips touch yours. The kiss was gentle, his lips resembled a feather on yours, a ghostly touch where if you weren’t paying attention, you would barely notice it.

In the soft rain and pale moonlight, the two of you knew what it was like to fall in love once more.

[fairykiller202]

Testament, elegant grim reaper.

[brucewaynehater101]

Hello again I have an idea that might–i guess– interest you so here we go :))

I have this idea where Tim has a scythe in his Bō staff and everyone is just confused and concerned because he is starting to look like a grim reaper. Also the weapon + his fighting style is like a character named Arlecchino from genshin impact (if you play it), so he can do some cool poses and when he fights everyone sees that his fighting style look dangerous but elegant as he dances with his scythe while humming a tune which makes any rouges or enemies off guard by his calm demeanor (but they won't lie that Tim looks absolutely stunning with his staff/scythe that has some sort of black magic in it, idk).

Anyway— getting sidetracked, when Tim got asked by the Bats how he got it and he just said "I make this weapon all by myself without anyone helping me, so if you wanted this baby? Make it by yourself" he huffs while turning away with a proud look.

Also I think the JL will have these shocked faces as they look towards batman to gain some answers of how RR has a scythe and he just said "he was bored so he makes it by himself." And just like that every JL member started calling Tim "Reaper", which for Tim is weird and too dark.

But anywaysss, the YJ also have the same exact expression as the JL but they quickly brush it off and let Tim do his "Grim reaper" things. And they also would sometimes brag about their friend, Tim, that they have a cool leader who is graceful, amazing, sometimes annoying, smart— and yadda yadda, bcs who wouldn't want to brag that they have a fuckin Reaper as a Leader.

Idk if Tim actually has powers that actually take people's souls but the imagination is there :33

Ooh!!!! A retractable scythe in his Bō staff?

Okay! I treasure when the Bats have cryptic/eldritch rumors about them that they purposefully feed into.

Tim would make his humming into a warning when he's not actively fighting. For the situations that require it, he would throw his voice around the room as his hum rang out. Some goons, upon hearing the noise and knowing the rumors about the "reaper," would lay down their weapons, put their hands up, and slowly walk away. Whatever they are getting paid is not worth the chance of him taking their soul.

I'm not sure what ideas you had for the timeline of when he added the scythe. One route is that, after he trained with Shiva, Tim quickly stumbles upon this option (particularly if it's an added lesson from Shiva).

Here's what I'm thinking instead:

Red Robin was surrounded by assassins all alone until he befriended three of them. He already was breaking a ton of rules and crossing lines for his cause. Yet, he refrained from any that Bruce wouldn't forgive. There's always another option. Tim can figure out how to save the day without resorting to violence.

Under a blanket of stars as the sand shifted beneath his knees, Tim couldn't help but desire a blade. His staff, while it could be deadly, proved ineffective in his weakened state. There wasn't a way he could defeat his opponent. Tim was doomed to die and drag Pru down with him.

He was lucky to regain consciousness long enough to drag them to help, but Tim didn't like resorting to luck. He utilized plans and contingencies, not the whims of the universe. Life is unpredictable, but Tim could at least pretend he was prepared.

So, with LoA knowledge at his disposal, the teen learned how to sharpen his weapon. Tim crafted a tool that could easily kill. Upon its completion, he felt a small sense of that safety he had lacked since he was fourteen.

As fitting to a person so surrounded by death (his mom, dad, Darla, Bart, Kon, Z, Owens, Bruce), Tim fastened a scythe blade to his Bō staff.

When he returned, Gotham, the JL, and YJ learned of the "reaper." Tim is glad his friends accepted him readily.

Later, when Tim has settled into his new forms and fighting styles, he'll sneak on over to Drake Manor. In a basement filed with tomes, research papers, artifacts, and notes, the teen with etch symbols and words into the metal. It's another tool and hail mary he hopes to never use.

He's learned his lessons about instilling limits for the sake of others.

[wangxianficrecs]

💙 In A Week by MimiSpearmint

💙 In A Week

by MimiSpearmint

T, 2k, Wangxian | Podfic Available by Firewitch (Keller012)

Summary: “There was this man who was always feeding me.” The kitten’s ghost looks up at him, empty eyes still imploring, “Death, can I see him one last time?” A kindly Grim Reaper watches as Lan Zhan adopts cats throughout the years Kay's comments: Filed under stories that made me weep like a little kid. Like, this made me so emotional. This hit all the right points to just destroy me, also this definitely should have been tagged "Major Character Death." If you're not ready to read a very sad stories in which cats die and human Lan Wangji ages and loses his cats over the years, skip this one. If you're in the mood to get absolutely emotionally enjoyed, please enjoy this feast. I literally have no words, I'm writing this rec with actual tears in my eyes. There's also a podfic available, if you struggle to read through the tears. Excerpt: A young family exits the cat enclosure, a small, white kitten already in a carrier. It looks docile and elegant, even for a shelter cat, not making a sound. When Lan Zhan enters the room, there is an older man already there, back to the door and wearing the weird semi-scrub uniform the shelter workers sport. “I’m sorry, old girl,” says the worker, a resigned sort of sadness in his tone as he fiddles with a cage lock, “I’m afraid your stay is over.” “I’ll take her!” blurts Lan Zhan. The worker starts and drops his keys in shock. “Please,” he adds. “Y-yes,” the other man stutters, fumbling to pick his keys back up. “She’s not a kitten though,” he warns. As the cage is unlocked, this much and more becomes apparent. The cat cowers in the back corner, fixing the worker with one – just one – large, fearful eye. A deep pink scratch extends over its nose and bisects the sewn-shut remnants of its second eye. Its fur is black, like his last kitten. When the worker steps back to let Lan Zhan have a closer look, the cat creeps forward, pressed close to the perimeter of the cage, to sniff at this new stranger that has come to gawk. It stares at Lan Zhan. Lan Zhan stares back. They come to an agreement. The cat – Bichen, he has decided – purrs as he picks her up and puts her in her carrier. She purrs on the drive home, when he sticks his fingers through the carrier’s grid door, his uncle’s voice bitching in his head about keeping both hands on the wheel. She purrs when he explains to her gently that this is her home, that she must stay indoors for safety, that he keeps her here because he loves her and does not want her hurt. “You are good,” he says when she purrs next to him in bed. “You are a kitten, no matter what they say. You are good.”

podfic available, pov lan wangji, pov wei wuxian, modern setting, modern with magic, grief/mourning, animal death, cats, major character death, soft lan wangji, pre-relationship, emotional hurt/comfort, hurt/comfort, sad with a happy ending, hopeful ending, grim reaper wei wuxian

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

[joybeantown]

The elegant grim reaper

✨ 💀

I had this sketch sitting in my sticker canvas for a while but finally got the chance to finish it and i like how warm the colors turned out

[mx-post-stuffs]

The Elegant Grim Reaper does not care and they only want their deserved bubble bath

[valentine-cafe]

˚◞♡ 𝒋𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒚𝒊 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒆𝒓𝒂 209 — the snake-hybrid mad doctor◞ ₊˚

⊹ ۪ ࣪ ᥫ᭡ “ darling, i have dealt with many hearts, but I've never come across one as pretty as yours, ” ꒱

. ˚◞꒰verse꒱ 209

. ˚◞꒰face claim refs꒱ ( x ) ( x ) ( x )

. ˚◞꒰species꒱ grim reaper, snake hybrid

. ˚◞꒰ethnicity꒱ chinese

. ˚◞꒰age꒱ 46

. ˚◞꒰gender꒱ male

. ˚◞꒰mbti꒱estj

. ˚◞꒰aliases꒱ the doctor, the surgeon, doctor herrera, the heartless, the black plague ( by enigma, the resistance ), snakie-boy, snake-bitch ( by haitao )

. ˚◞꒰appearance꒱

𖹭. oftentimes seen wearing his deceptively kind smile, fooling even the most skeptical of people when they catch a glimpse of the red painted lips stretched out on his face.

𖹭. deep amber snake eyes are often hidden by a pair of maroon contacts, hiding away the truth like the rest of his general body language and confident posture.

𖹭. long, silky black hair that falls past his shoulders, usually put into a half-ponytail or let loose.

𖹭. is able to unhinge his jaw, putting on display, his forked elongated tongue, rows of sharp teeth and his two snake fangs protruding whenever he yawns

𖹭. wears a wide range of jewellery, thin gold necklaces and chokers covering his neck and shoulders. while his ears are covered in a pair of standard lobe piercings, along with a helix — right ear covered in a conch and tragus piercing. rings covering his fair toned fingers.

𖹭. stands at the towering height of 6’7 ft ( 201cm ), with a lean and well toned figure.

𖹭. androgynous, sharp and soft facial features.

𖹭. very fluid and elegant in the way he moves and overall looks.

𖹭. primarily dons the red makeup styles.

𖹭. extremely vintage styled aesthetic in fashion choice, loves wearing poet shirts and suits.

𖹭. he has a frenum piercing ( peepee piercing )

. ˚◞꒰personality꒱

𖹭. deceivingly kind and serene demeanor hiding the sadism and manipulative intentions and ulterior motives.

𖹭. he is deceptive in every way and form, his sharp intelligence silencing those who speak against him or try to prevent him from succeeding his goals.

𖹭. has a silver-tongue riddled with false kindness and care the fools that decide to affiliate themselves with him, bringing them into a sense of comfort and security that never was there to begin with — using their confidence as an advantage

𖹭. on the inside, you see the sinister, sarcastic and malicious sociopath that is the true part of the so-called “goodhearted” poet.

𖹭. charming and charismatic words and actions concealing the greedy and sadistic side of him.

𖹭. prefers silence over loud talk, and maintains his anonymity and mystery due to this factor — getting him to talk is not a possibility, even if you tried by forcing it out of him.

𖹭. can be sassy and give blunt replies to people he finds himself irritated with.

𖹭. moodiness is a result of both his snake dna and his traumatic past — or because his husband is not around.

𖹭. calculative and witty — has a great memory and uses it often to note down the speech patterns, movements and body-languages of the people around him.

𖹭. his perceptiveness is the next in line to his intelligence, you cannot outlie the master liar and manipulator, he knows your tricks.

𖹭. hard to anger and irritate, and will applaud you for your audacity and stupidity for trying so.

𖹭. should this man find himself infatuated with someone, he will put his possessiveness and obsessiveness on display. showing you his yandere tendencies and greedy behaviour around them.

. ˚◞꒰with a lover꒱

𖹭. very sweet. very verbally and physically affectionate. you see the more humane side of him that others do not

𖹭. he is exceptionally patient with you. always assuring you when you need and comforting you

𖹭. he loves spoiling you. especially taking you out clothes shopping and letting you try out whatever it is that you may wish. loves seeing you flustered whenever he pulls you into a clothing shop. flustering you whenever he snatches your waist in front of a mirror

𖹭. always worshipping your skin with kisses. he can barely keep his hands off of you

𖹭. possessive, but hides it well with his poetic and loving words. he is most definitely a yandere type. willing to do whatever it takes to keep you at his side.

𖹭. very verbal about how much he obsesses over you, as much as he is clear in his actions that he wants you for himself and no-one else. should anyone look or talk to you in a way he does not like? he will gouge their eyes out, or use them as his newest “patients”

𖹭. loves teasing you and flirting with you until you have lost your breath from giggling or whining for him to shut up

𖹭. a very passionate lover and has no problem in showing his passion for you neither. even when it’s in public

𖹭. pda? what’s that? he’ll pull you into his lap even in a cafe. or kiss you in booths. have his hands on you. anything to show that you are his

𖹭. if anyone lays a finger on you. . . they are dead.

. ˚◞꒰strengths꒱

𖹭. increased bodily function: advanced strength, speed, agility and durability.

𖹭. heightened senses: advanced sight, smell, hearing, taste and awareness of surroundings.

𖹭. healing factor: an average healing factor that heals his injuries far quicker than most

𖹭. fangs and bite: has a set of snake fangs that can secrete two venoms: a paralytic, which he uses for sedation, and a fatal. he can switch between them. and especially powerful bite

𖹭. talons & venomous touch: he has talons that secrete high levels of venom. this venom is extracted by thin wired implanted on his wrists that carry his venom to his nails, resulting in venom-induced touches should he use them on someone.

𖹭. snake physiology: has the flexibility of a snake, therefore his body is able to move in the fluid motion that a serpent would. he is able to dislocate his joints with ease and twist his body in whichever way he prefers. his jaw can unhinge as well.

𖹭. poison immunity: immune to poisons.

𖹭. elastic jaw: the ability to unhinge his jaw to drastic measures

𖹭. hyper climbing and clawing: able to slither up surfaces

𖹭. seismic sense: able to feel vibrations in a seismic way whenever his limbs touch surfaces. he can feel these from quite awhile ago

𖹭. enhanced lung capacity: able to hold his breath for longer

𖹭. stealth: can move around swiftly and quietly

. ˚◞꒰weaknesses꒱

𖹭. poison addiction: due to building up a poison resistance by intaking the substances, he is now immune to poison but in turn has grown addicted to the intake of them. he now does it for the fun of it and as a coping mechanism.

𖹭. abandonment issues: if he is away from the people he loves. this can result in erratic episodes and even have a negative affect on his physical well-being

𖹭. fainting: should he grow overwhelmed, he is prone to fainting.

𖹭. apples: has a mild allergy to apples and takes medication for it.

𖹭. reapers: not much is known of this condition. . . come back later and perhaps you might find out?

𖹭. apples: has a mild allergy to apples and takes medication for it.

𖹭. oranges: has a bad allergy to oranges.

𖹭. daylight: as a nocturnal reaper, daylight and other bright sources of light can weaken his senses of sight as he is used to the darkness of the night.

𖹭. d’akar: an anti-magic material that can greatly weaken him if he comes into contact with it. he, especially is affected by this.

𖹭. extreme emotional attachment: while reapers may remind one of humans, they are not. they are beings with very empathetic instincts and have souls bigger than the average mortal being — a thing that has been with them since their creation. they become extremely attached to things they love and it may cause them to become erratic if enough they love is taken away from them.

. ˚◞꒰relationships꒱

𖹭. rishen herrera: husband, business partner, best friend

𖹭. yuè mèng yáo: mother, deceased

𖹭. zhào mùchén: father, deceased

𖹭. zhào hàoyú: younger brother, deceased

𖹭. zhào haitāo: younger brother, enemy

𖹭. zhào xīyáng: younger brother, deceased

𖹭. wèi lìxuě: enemy

𖹭. liú tàishī: enemy

𖹭. alessio agresta arias: “rival”, deceased

𖹭. lorenzo agresta arias: enemy

𖹭. park tae-hyun: enemy

. ˚◞꒰story꒱

sly grins and skilled yet devilish hands. hidden by kind eyes and serene smiles. how could a gaze like that watch with glee the suffering of experiments?

a mad doctor to match his mad scientist for a husband, experimenting and tormenting enigma and inhumans with the excuse of making a better world. jingyi herrera designs medicines that no other verse has even seen. so what if it's at the cost of a few souls? it's for the greater good. 

so he'll indulge in his insanity. in his horrid morals and his lust for knowledge, for his twisted sense of justice. all if it means succeeding in all of his ambitions and staying at the side of his beloved.

. ˚◞꒰extra꒱

𖹭. he is a doctor and has a clinic on the second floor of valence. he specialises in most areas of anatomy and is a skilled doctor and surgeon.

𖹭. he is also the co-chairman of valence

𖹭. he is fluent in asl and csl

𖹭. he speaks chinese ( mandarin ) and spanish ( latin american )

𖹭. has a cat named beauregard oliver fitzgeralt josé cassandra o'hara the 7th arch king of death.

𖹭. loves old-timey romance movies

𖹭. as much as he is mature, he does love giving his assistants a good scare every now and then when he thinks they are being lazy. . . and by scare we don’t mean by lighthearted pranks.

𖹭. likes collecting tea sets.

𖹭. he sometimes smokes

[knightscanfeeltoo]

Testament would probably do some Magic Tricks to Entertain the Kids when they have Free Time...

(I do Love how I Draw Testament's Face even if I could not draw their Immaculate Beauty and I'm Sorry if Agender and Non-Binary are Two Completely Different Things...)

[lily-radiance]

Random fic headcanons and ideas:

TWD season two Daryl Dixon with an S/O who's in trouble

Both loners

MC is not from Georgia

Early 20s MC dating mid-30s Daryl

She knows how to shoot archery bows but not crossbows

Touch-starved

Andrea considers MC like another younger sibling

Everyone advises Daryl not to go for you and vice versa

When Rick, Hershel, and Glenn go to the bar, MC accompanies them. Daryl only goes when Lori tells him that you are in danger.

Carol gives him advice

Andrea and Lori warn him if he breaks your heart, he's a dead man.

RE4 Leon with a high school best friend who became an Umbrella Scientist.

MC was initially training for the force with Leon but dropped out to find another passion

She wants to help people but gets pulled into Umbrella’s dark research

Leon caught a glimpse of her at the end of RE2 but couldn't be sure if it was her.

Ashley doesn't trust MC, but Leon ignores it

Both have combat experience and have undergone physical conditioning

MC does not have Las Plagas

Krauser spars with MC, causing Leon to jump in.

Krauser asks Leon to choose between you and Ashley.

IDK if Leon would be sweet here or a Yandere.

Arkham Movie Trilogy Jonathan Crane, Harley Quinn, and Poison Ivy x Psychiatrist reader

This story is currently in progress!!!

Reader works at Arkham Asylum

Friends with Bruce Wayne

Knows about his alter ego and occasionally helps him solve cases

Reader believes Bruce should do more with his money to benefit Gotham

Combines Heath Ledger’s Joker with Margot Robbie’s Harley Quinn

The reader was in the same major as Harley in college, and the two dated briefly

Harley constantly teases the reader when she catches wind of a new crush

You try to ignore her, but eventually can't as she warns you that the doctor is deadlier than he lets on

You brush it off, too fond of your coworker to accept the notion that he can hurt you

Bruce doesn't like your new counterpart, picking up a destructive energy that screams guilty

In defiance, you decide to bring your beaux to one of many parties and get on your friend’s last nerve.

A kiss is shared in front of the crowd, some murmuring complaints while others smile. You wish to stay in Jonathan’s arms, but the moment is interrupted as Bruce pulls you aside

Naturally, two upper-class socialites fighting in front of an audience calls for bad publicity, but not on your part

“If you keep this up, you'll become a sewer rat criminal just like the rest!”

Luckily, you decided to wear a few rings to accentuate your outfit. Not only do you look stunning, but you reel back and land a brutal slap on his cheek. Yet that doesn't hurt as much as your following words.

“How dare you, Bruce. How dare you scrutinize what you can never understand. Thomas and Martha would be ashamed of you, and you, of all people, know they were difficult to rattle. Next time you need anything, ask someone who gives a shit.”

Your friend has to watch in shock as you exit the home, arm linked with a man he despises. Even in disagreeable situations, you manage to exhibit grace and elegance. It's the beginning of a new era and the opportunity to forget the complex life of the wealthy.

“Is your hand alright, (Y/N)? Better yet, are you okay?”

Never underestimate a psychiatrist to get into your head. He walks you to the car, watching your lips tremble in the darkness. You meet his stare, and one thought crosses your mind: kissing him sounds lovely. The doctor is efficient at picking up social cues, leaning down to meet your lips, and extinguishing the frigid temperature.

“As long as I'm with you, Jonathan. I can do anything with you by my side, no matter the risks.”

I want to make the reader an anti-hero vigilante with the “Grim Reaper” theme. Supernatural powers in Batman don't really occur so I will brainstorm. Most villains are the work of genetic experiments gone wrong so maybe I'll work with that?

JD(Heathers 1989) dating the reader

You are friends with Veronica and the despicable Heathers

Instead of going along with their charades, you often argue and challenge Heather Chandler

She constantly threatens your social standing but knows that the campus would easily choose you over her.

Purple color coded

JD can't help but admire your tenacity as you begrudgingly follow Veronica to the table, attempting to stop the girl from doing Heather’s bidding.

When you walk over, he seems uninterested in the girl speaking to him, instead transfixed on your disinterested attitude. Unknowingly, you lick your lips, tasting lip gloss and wiping some glitter away. When you lock eyes, you swear your heart stops beating, drawn to his carefree attitude.

Veronica says a few words to you, trying to convince you to let her administer the lunch poll

As she talks, you playfully roll your eyes, causing the delinquent to smirk in your direction. He hides a chuckle from breaking out, finding your careless joking funny given the circumstances. When Veronica walks off, it allows you to sit across from the newcomer, albeit a little too eagerly.

“Mind if I ask for a smoke? I'm dying from boredom.”

“Sure, I could never say no to a girl like you. I’m guessing you’ve been trying to break from those devils all day.”

He lights your cigarette as you take it between your teeth, enjoying the visual more than he lets on.

“It's all thanks to you, my knight in obsidian armor.”

[tulipsie-art]

testament, the elegant grim reaper 🖤

[puppycheesecake]

Sim Download -> Death Flowers. 💀🌺

"A spooky, yet elegant blossom. Roses just don't cut it for the Grim Reaper. Try this flower to calm his qualms and get out of a deadly situation."

YA, Human ("PlantSim")

1 Outfit

Base Game

CC included

>> Download (MediaFire)

** Tag me if you use them; I'd love to see~!

[pinkestmenace]

Sometimes when I'm pondering the orbs/trying to scrape up what little characterisation there is of Galacta Knight so I can figure out how to write his character, the little quippy shotgun rider in the back of my mind chips in:

He's a 10, but he laughs like a demented seagull. "AAHAhahaha!"

He has the appetite and hubris of a seagull trying to swallow an entire hotdog.

He and Meta Knight are studying each other in a petri dish.

No fear -> Meets Bandee's Nana -> One fear

The elegance of a swan, the indomitable spirit of a territorial mother goose, the tenacity of a pigeon with a clubfoot. And the aggression of a swan.

Teeth teeth teeth goose tomia teeth 😬

Me, thinking: "Even after he chooses to better himself he's still not exactly a sweet person." Me-not-me: "That's-a spicy meatball!"

Have you ever looked a chicken in the eye? They remember when they were dinosaurs.

You can lead a Galacta Knight to healthy conflict resolution, but you can't make him drink.

He's a homing pigeon. Homing in on your location.

Instead of hitting him with the scary hands beam like Starflungwaddledee, you hit him with the scary teeth beam. And then the scary hands beam.

When all you have is a lance, everything starts looking like a target.

He's the Hero Circling the Origin. Circling it like a drain.

Uses 'fowl' language.

"Bah!" GK is Scrooge being tormented by the ghosts of his victims past, present and yet to come (and the grim reaper) to change his ways before it's too late.

GK is not really a man, because while he's bipedal he's not featherless.

Stabbing children isn't his favourite pastime. Teaching children how to stab, on the other hand...

This is less of a 'We can fix him if we hug him enough!'-fic and more of a 'We're showing him the tools to improve, but he has to pick them up himself. Which he won't do until he thinks he's worth it.'-fic.

His breakdown is like the emotional equivalent of draining pus from a festering wound.

The inherent homoeroticism of stabbing a man with a stubby pink lance...and then having to pull it out by the shaft.

He's not entirely unhinged, but his hinges are rusty and failing.

Galacta Knight *gets hit with several deadly weapons*. "'Tis but a scratch."

Kirby stopping him: "I defeated him with the power of friendship! And this sharp stick I inhaled."

He has the petty meanness of a parrot.

He explodes recreationally.

Worse: he flies into the air, displays the colours of the pansexual flag and THEN explodes. Extremely straight behaviour.

Instead of the Maiden, the Mother and the Crone he contains the holy trinity of thwarted theater kid, world-weary butch and the Faggiest Grandfather in the Galaxy.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

He could absolutely kill you and might even laugh while doing so, but it's not so much him being gleefully murderous as:

Fighting is one of the few reprieves from his unfathomable boredom and frustration.

He thinks he's irredeemable so he might as well play the villain. He's not completely heartless, but why try being kind anymore when his role is fixed anyway? Phah! Nobody spares him, so why should he show mercy?

If people summon him they're asking for it + if he just stood there and let them kill him that would be unsatisfying for both parties.

He never learned how to deal with big complicated feelings except by lashing out.

By now the pattern of 'being summoned -> fight -> win or lose' is so deeply engraved into him he'd have to climb out of the groove, so he responds to any slight by competing.

He's so used to bloodshed he doesn't know how to have a normal conversation anymore.

I'm getting a better feel for him, but guess what: if characters live rent-free in your head you can put them in a terrarium of your choosing, but they will decide how to interact with it afterwards.

For example:

At this point I can't put Galacta Knight and King Dedede in a room together unsupervised because their massive egos make them bicker and posture at each other. (They're establishing pecking order/jealously trying to impress Meta Knight, who pretends not to notice. Bird rivalry go!) It would soon have them at each other's throats. They're surprisingly similar, but that also makes them absolutely allergic to each other. If you thought Dedede and Kirby had a rivalry, well, theirs is much worse. Kirby's perfectly happy to have a competition, but he's not (usually) interested in mocking his opponent, so that defuses the situation. But Galacta Knight's a sore loser and a smug winner. If DDD and GK ever do become friends it will grow out of a begrudging respect for each other's strength and the discovery they both like: a) Shitty puns, b) Sick Burns™ and c) Teasing Meta Knight.

On the other hand, after a rough start Galacta Knight and Kirby get along like a house on fire. Kirby's just not intimidated by him, so no matter what threats GK tries, he eventually has to accept he's being befriended. He has no choice. They beat each other up, make up, bake pancakes and have a sleepover. Yay! This does not stop him from being a bit of an untitled goose bastard. It just means Kirby's exempt from the worst.

He and Meta Knight are orbiting each other like binary stars trying to figure out why the other is definitely so much weirder and more unhinged.

MK: He tried to kill me on sight. I'm going to spare him to figure out why. Huh? He's so strong and beautiful! *Notices the serrated teeth and the unhinged seagull laugh.* Never mind.

GK: I am loath to gaze upon thy dim countenance, thou stupid anomalous manlet! Thou art short and ugly! I hate thee! ...I need to know more. Kiss me I mean I'll kill thee if thou touchest me!

He and Bandee are, uh, yeah. Strained is what I would call it. GK feels disdain for people weaker than him, but admiration for the dedicated. Bandee is both of those things. So he settles for giving him a lesson in stabbing more effectively. Bandee is just ??? the entire time.

They all help him fix different aspects of himself. Kirby offered him a non-judgmental outlet for his emotions. Meta Knight made sure he was physically healthy. Dedede, reluctant as they both were about it, helped ground him in reality and showed him change is possible. Bandee helped him re-evaluate his priorities and values.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

It's less that he's suddenly developed a conscience and more that he's finally getting the chance to see them as people. Normally he gets summoned and has to fight immediately. There's no time to chat, or sit down, or think about anything but battle. With every clash with a familiar face his opponents feel more like advanced training dummies than people. It's just another iteration, they don't matter. But this time he crashed in the jungle, then had to survive on his own for six days. Once the adrenaline wore off he started feeling things like pain, hunger and loneliness. He had to find food, he had to find shelter, he had to deal with (well, avoid) noncombatants. He started using his voice again, he had time to think and see things beyond the battlefield. He didn't know what to do with himself.

So by the time this Kirby and Meta Knight show up he's in a completely different mindset. Especially when they try to reason with him. When they heal him and feed him and even invite him over. You can't really sit down with someone over a nice cup of tea without starting to see them as a person. Someone with opinions, needs and desires and insecurities. Not so different from you. And the more you see them as a person, the more you care about them and the more difficult it becomes to want to kill them.

Too bad that doesn't mean his unresolved grief and anger issues are completely gone. It just means that if he lashes out and kills them now he will regret it. Forever.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Post Hatoful Dreams GK cooking like Gordon Ramsey.

GK: *Slaps bread on MK/DMK's face* "What art thou?"

MK/DMK: "An idiot sandwich."

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

There's a war going on in his head between the touch-starved wet beast screaming "TOUCH ME! LOVE ME! HOLD ME! PLEEEASE!" and the vengeful side ready to kill and maim screaming "TRY ME. I DESPISE EVERYTHING ABOUT THEE, THOU FILTHY ITERATION OF MY NEMESIS!"

Now he finds himself in the middle, fickle and wishy-washy, craving affection, desperate to be accepted, but lashing out at any slight.