#they have seen wonders and horrors alike

[phoebepheebsphibs]

Hi sorry, do you have a moment because I really wanna talk about Mikey's eyes... 🌟

The ✨EYES✨

Hhhhis eyes...🥺

[b1rds3ye]

hi!! this is my first time doing a request so idk if I'm doing this right haha but uh, I was wondering if you could do like. yknow the masked one you made for the 141 (I can't remember the name rn💔)? I thought of like, a sequel idea. like, what if during combat an enemy manages to take reader's mask, and so reader panics and like, rips the enemies throat out with their teeth (or if that's too violent, just goes basically rabid on them lmao) and how they would react?? if this is too violent or specific dw you don't have to!! anyways, I love your content it's totally awesome ur writing is amazing! have a good day!!

YES I LOVE THE BADASSERY AND THE UNHINGEDNESS!! If I'm your first request I'm so flattered anon pls do feel free to drop by again <333 Also just going to do general rabidness because ngl the throat thing sounds like an infection speedrun and we want our masked reader to stay nice and healthy <333

Word Count: 1.2 (it got a little long WHOOPS)

Warning: Canon typical violence, reader does get a lil sadistic and unhinged <333

Beyond Task Force 141 and Laswell, many - if not all - allied soldiers wondered about what lay under your mask. Obscuring even the eyes, your visage was more unreadable than Ghost's. Larger than life, a soldier among men.

There was a running joke that there was just nothing under your mask, perhaps an eldritch horror of sorts. You let the new recruits entertain the thought, it kept morale up as they conjured more myths of you. They said that no one has seen you without your mask. They were partially right.

It simply was that no one lived to tell the tale.

You were never one for close combat, but fighting terrorists was never smooth sailing. The chaos of battle had all of the 141 separated against the tight streets of Las Almas. How uncanny that you could not see your allies but hear their gunfire. Running out of ammo, you couldn't lament at your misfortune as a shoulder pummeling into your chest, sending you to the ground and the air out of your lungs. Head bashing against the floor you groaned as you furiously clawed up to whatever heavy weight was crushing your body. You were starting to make up the figure of a man hovering over you through the blurry haze of a concussion that filled your sight. The distant static of Price's voice through the radio, probably asking where the hell were you but you had more pressing issues at hand.

Through your struggle and flailing limbs you managed to wring the enemy's pistol off of them with a painful twist of their wrist. And they retaliated tenfold, a large sweaty hand reaching down and pressing your head back against the ground. Your adrenaline makes you writhe further, he was going to suffocate you, or worse, poison you with how fucking awful his hand smelt as the stink of burning gunpowder replaced any of your oxygen. But no, he committed a far worse crime.

A singular pull and the grating tear of fabric as your mask is pulled off of your face.

A heavy moment where your enemy looks down at you and his gaze is not like before. It's clear, it's deep. It is not looking at your facade but at you and you are no longer a soldier. You are merely a human, so fragile, so weak. One that is on the verge of death in a foreign land surrounded by bodies of fallen comrades and enemies alike. One whose mythos is all but lost at the victorious and leering smirk of an enemy as they take in your face.

That simply won't do.

Pulling your knee up to create space between you and the man, you pull out your tactical knife from your waist and drive it into his torso. His smile falls only to land at settle on yours below him, just like his blood that trickles as forbidden crimson down your hands and seeps into your uniform. It's disgustingly warm. He grows heavier as he loses all control over his body and you heave to throw his figure off to the side. You stab him once again for good measure. And then again. And again. Quick, short jabs down with a sharpened blade that cuts through uniform, flesh and bone alike. You did not count how many times you drove your blade down, numbers were too complex when your mind was running faster than any comprehensible speed. There was only one goal. To make sure no one knows what happened.

A harsh grip on the shoulder yanks you back up and you swipe with your armed limb to cut your new assailant's neck but they were onto you. Catching your arm, they pull it up as they hold onto your shoulder once again with a tightening grip that digs into your uniform. But they do nothing more, no matter how much you thrash and kick.

"Wake up, Sergeant," your opponent seethes and that voice makes you still, a buoy that floats across through your rage. Deep and grounding and your captain's.

You nearly stumble back but Price catches you before you crumple to the ground in exhaustion. The adrenaline was escaping your body leaving you with barely the energy to stay upright. Your head lolls back for a second before you bring it to the side to look at your direct superior, the remnants of a concussion making your vision blurry.

"You broken?" he asks.

"Negative, sir,” you respond immediately but he looks a little doubtful, a singular eyebrow raised as he inspects you. Not your body, but your face. The dilated pupils and the taut muscles told more than any wound.

"Can't say the same about your wee friend over there," Soap whistles as he tilts his head to behind you. “Christ, you did a number on him.”

You dare turn to look over your shoulder but Ghost already situated himself in front of the body. But between his feet you could already make out the indistinguishable mass of tattered fabric and discoloured flesh. Fresh blood filled the rivets between the cobblestones, the remnants of the body inching its way closer to you-

"Was it the mask?" Simon brings your attention back to him. You nod dumbly. He only dips his head in what you can only describe as understanding as he folds his arms, fortifying his stance in front of the mess you made. You weren’t going to see your handiwork, he was too kind to ever let you.

John drops his hands down to his sides as Gaz approaches you with your mask.

"Remind me to never get on your bad side," Kyle offers you a sympathetic smile.

"Learnt that the first day I saw 'em on duty," Johnny retorts and you instinctively smile as you take your mask from Kyle. The hardened plaster of your mask had cracked, the fabric that hugged your neck had become torn but it'll do for the remainder of the mission. Slipping the mask back on, Simon offers a nod of approval while Johnny tugged at the fabric for a few finishing touches.

Ultimately the mission was successful. The task force returns to base and although none of the boys mentioned the carnage you left, there are still whispers of it on base. You had hurried to debrief and get your mask fixed but it seemed some privates caught sight of you and that was enough to spark rumours. Your mask had gotten so fractured that a shard was left back in the streets of Las Almas and revealed one of your eyes to the rest of the world. Such a small organ but so vivid. The privates saw, and more was added to the myth that was you. There was now no question about what was under the mask. No lovecraftian horror or empty space, no monster beyond comprehension. No, what was under your mask was terrifyingly human.

Masked Reader Masterlist Call of Duty Masterlist

[takenbypeter]

When Symbiote Meets Symbiote

Eddie Brock x reader

Words:1283

Author’s note: This isn’t exactly like the request there could be more arguing but I’ve been trying to write this for awhile and this is all i got and I’m tired of thinking about how to make this better so this is is it

Requested by anonymous: Obsessed with the thought of Eddie running into someone else with a symbiote, n y know they're alike in the sense that their symbiote is... well they're not as murder happy as Carnage n such, Problem is that Y/N's symbiote doesn't know that Venom isn't really a threat to their host, and Venom doesn't know S/N isn't a threat to him

It was one of those late nights…you know the kind.

Those kind of nights were only the overhead streetlights guided your footsteps and cars zoomed by despite how dark it was out. The kind that had some people clutching their purses, while others walked around with hoods over their heads while minding their own business.

You were a part of the latter, having to run a small sort of errand so late and were just about on your way home.

The past you would’ve been terrified roaming the streets but the present you? The present you, was just fine with it.

The present you had no fear.

Okay not no fear but let’s say less fear, but anyone with your…”condition” would feel the same.

Suddenly feeling a cold rush of wind against your face you felt the dryness of your lips starting to irritate you. Pulling out your teeny tiny chapstick, you yank the top off. Pulling it a little too hard, it drops and rolls down the sidewalk. Despite knowing you’re not going to use that again, you still refused to litter and you followed after it.

With a bend at the knees you reached for the small object but became easily distracted at the sound of the sudden thrashing you heard coming from the alleyway right beside you.

Then, you heard some yelling. Curiosity quickly took over you, you stood there wondering if you should go and help, or you should instead just go about your day and mind your own business.

The latter was always, always so tempting.

“What to do? What to do?” You whispered under your breath before you heard the familiar voice.

“Let’s go check it out! Might get some brains out of it!”

You rolled your eyes at the clear excitement in your symbiote’s voice.

Creeping closer to the chaos your eyes quickly turn attention to the shadow that’s illuminated on the wall across from you.

You didn’t know what you were looking at.

All you knew was that it was huge.

The shadow appeared to be some huge bodybuilder type, and in his grip looked to be a body.

You watched in slight horror as the giant mass of shadow’s mouth seemed to split open before it ate the small body’s head clean off.

Now, having lived with a symbiote yourself for some time now, this seemed like very very familiar behavior, you in fact have eaten a couple heads yourself. But not once have you met or even seen another symbiote.

“Oh my god is that—?”

“A symbiote.”

After seeing what you just saw you’re not sure how to react, but your symbiote, Abyss does, “we can take ‘em.”

You knew you had a very tight knit bond with Abyss, therefore making you very powerful together, however you weren’t so sure about this.

“Wait, let’s just see what were up against first,” you suggested.

“Our bond is so strong, we‘re more than half as powerful as I am on my planet. Let’s go now while they’re distracted.”

“Okay wait let's just…wait.”

Despite feeling different about the situation than you, Abyss listens and you try to figure out what was going on, as you did your best to creep along the wall discreetly, until you’re standing behind the black symbiote. Before you could get “geared up,” as you might call it, you see the body in its hand fall and the black ooze slowly seems to disappear inside of someone revealing a rather normal looking man.

You let out an, “oh my god,” not as discreetly as you probably should have, because the man turns around spotting you.

He doesn’t have much time to react because soon the dark purple color of your own symbiote begins to surround you, covering every inch of your body until you’re fully concealed.

The man is clearly confused at what he sees before him. “Who the hel—“

Before the man can finish that question Abyss’ purple material goes out practically body slamming him onto the wall.

Inside your jaw drops, “you didn’t even let him finish,” you felt like he at least deserved that.

You watch as the poor man struggles to get up, using the wall as a helper, “wait, I just wanna—“ another slam against the wall, this time a double hit and you almost feel sorry for the guy who seemed to pose no actual threat.

It seems like Abyss may have thrown one too many punches because a new voice, a deep and raspy one shouts, “that’s it,” before the man becomes engulfed in the deep black-like material once again.

You really didn’t want to fight the guy, but thanks to Abyss it seemed like you no longer had the choice.

“I’ll eat you up and spit you out for breakfast,” said Abyss, clearly taking a line from one of the many wrestling matches that you‘even heard before.

You didn’t even have a chance to hold back Abyss because soon, the two symbiotes were practically tearing each other apart. Hitting each other left and right, uppercuts, pinning each other to the walls, it was almost an evenly met match.

It came to the point where they were pushing each other, hand gripping hand, and you couldn’t help but wonder, why you were even fighting this guy in the first place?

While Abyss and this random symbiote were screaming in each others faces, you fought to have your face revealed, and you managed to get out, “time out, time out. Can we all just time out and talk?”

It was a stretch simply asking for that while the two were at each others throats and clearly the symbiote across from you didn’t favor the idea.

“Ha you must be joking if you think—“

“V,” came a voice as the man’s face pulled through, “V come on, they just want to talk.”

A second passes by and the symbiote he called, “V” growls.

Taking this as a sign of hesitant agreement, you announce, “okay we’re backing down,” and although not on board with this, Abyss let’s go.

V doesn’t even let a moment pass before leaping and taking the opportunity to pin you by the throat. But before it can do any harm you hear the man shouting for it to let go and after struggling for a moment it lets go.

You grapple to collect your breath, as the two argued against the opposite wall.

“Venom, what the hell was that?”

“What? I thought it was a trick. How was I supposed to trust them? They tried to kill us first.”

Venom wasn’t the only one who was upset as you heard Abyss mumbling, “they’re distracted, why don’t we attack now and get it over with, they shouldn’t be here,” Abyss suggested.

“No Abyss, we’re just going to talk and figure everything out.”

Abyss, not really caring anymore, falls away flowing back into your veins and your skin. While the other two continue their dispute.

“Venom we’ll just talk, not everything has to be fought its way out.”

“Because bad people love talking so much.”

“How are we supposed to know if they’re bad if we don’t talk to them?”

“Don’t come to me when you’re lying in a ditch, I can just find another body to occupy anyway.”

“You know that’s not true.”

You almost don’t want to interrupt with how intense they were going back and forth but the man sensed you behind him, which interrupted their talk. Turning to you just human to human now, he asks, “do you want to get hot chocolate?”

And there’s really nothing else for you to say except, “I would love to get hot chocolate.”

[milswrites]

To the stars who listen

~Rhysand X Fem!Reader

Summary: Looking upon the stars for the first time since leaving the mountain, Rhysand makes a wish. Only to be surprised when his dreams are actually answered.

Warnings: Mentions of what happened to Rhys under the mountain. (otherwise the only way I could describe this is as fluffy angst?)

Fic for @starfallweek

Prompt: Character A is a fallen star. Character B finds them.

The world was full of dreamers.

Humans, Fae and Faeries alike. The power of the night sky knew no bounds. All were welcome to look up to the heavens and all were able to wish upon the astral beings to their hearts content.

The stars knew nothing of discrimination, shining for all should they only choose to look up.

They were infinite. Unyielding.

Having centuries of experience when it comes to lighting up the night sky.

A patient guide, a willing listener, a teller of stories.

To Rhysand, stars were just as important as the air he breathed.

Which is why he found himself here, on his first night of freedom after escaping the mountain, sat alone on his balcony at the House of Wind. His violet eyes, dulled after half a century of pain by Amarantha's hand, locked onto the sky above him.

Fifty years.

That was how long the High Lord had been deprived from watching the stars. Fifty long years without their comforting presence to whisper to. Unable to share his dreams, his prayers for the future. Hidden from the golden twinkle which told him they heard him, storing away his wishes, holding them safe until they came true.

So here he was, staring longingly at the night sky. Searching his mind for what he wanted to say. Wondering exactly how he would greet them again.

It was a beautiful night for it.

Not a single cloud hovered overhead. Allowing the stars to shimmer brightly in all their majesty. Rhysand couldn't recall a time where he had ever seen the stars gleam with this intensity.

Heart twinging with hope, he imagined their vivid illumination was for him. That it was their way of saying hello to an old friend they had missed. Their way of showing him they were listening.

So Rhysand spoke.

A soft breath from his lips as he whispered to the brightest star in the sky, the reflection of its almighty glory danced in his soulless eyes.

"I wish I felt like me again."

His own eyes watered at his confession, throat turning dry as his mind never failed to stop playing out the horrors of which he had endured under the mountain. Each blink of his eyes brought along the flashes of deep red hair and rouge painted claws.

Rhysand no longer considered himself a dreamer. Not as long as these nightmares plagued his thoughts.

He was a broken man.

A cracked mirror. Only he couldn't figure out how to piece himself back together again. How to move on from the trauma of his past which had settled in his bones.

So he repeated his wish, his words floating into the cool night air like a prayer. Desperate eyes searching the glowing stars, begging for an answer. Begging for some instruction as to how he could move on, how he could be Rhysand again.

But there was nothing.

The stars were silent.

There was no shimmer of acknowledgment. No sign that they had heard the broken call from the male. They stayed unchanging, staring back at him with no acknowledgement of his wish.

Disheartened, Rhysand cast his bitter eyes to the ground. Cursing himself for being so foolish as to believe that the stories his mother used to tell him held truth.

Perhaps that's all they ever were. Just stars. And Rhysand was just the fool who had hoped that they could be something more.

Sullen, he made to move inside. Disappointment welling in his system at the knowledge that sleep most likely won't come to him. That dark-eyed and exhausted tomorrow, he would have to pretend to his family that all was ok. That he was ok.

For one last time he cast his violet eyes back to the sky in despair. Taking turns to stare at each glistening orb. Forcing himself to look for something he no longer believed was there.

Then, just as he was about to give up and retire to his room, there was a flash from the corner of his eyes.

It was only small, the white light which had crept into his vision. But it was definitely there. A streak across the inky black sky. Breaking the darkness as it barreled over Velaris and towards the forest-cloaked mountain in the distance.

Rhysand was driven by pure instinct.

He leapt from the balcony. Large wings growing from his back until they began to powerfully beat against the gravity pulling him down, carrying him upwards towards the mountain. Towards the mysterious light which was still barreling through the sky, gaining momentum as it was moved downwards. Almost appearing as though if it was falling.

This stirred the male to act faster. To urge his wings to close the difference between himself and the light quicker. Beating them and beating them until a dull ache had settled in his muscles.

But he had to get there.

The white light disappeared between the trees, its intense aura had dimmed to a low glow. It's flickering energy enough for Rhysand to still follow the trail as he flew down to the ground in order to land. Curiously threading in-between the tree's as he made his way towards the source.

His eyes squinted as he neared the fallen light, heart pounding as he was able to make out the shape of a figure from inside the glowing orb.

The ethereal being walked towards him as the brightness dimmed, allowing Rhysand to drop the hand which he had lifted to shield his eyes. Though whilst the orb of light had faded, the skin of this otherworldly being still glowed strongly.

"Who are you?" He questioned weakly, unable to don the mask of an all-powerful High-Lord because he knew whoever this was, whatever they were, he would be no match for them.

"I think you already know the answer to that."

Their voice was soft, angelic, as though the words they were speaking came from the melody of a song. The gentle tone reverberated in the quiet forest, clinging to the air as it failed to fully disappear. Hovering closely by like an inextinguishable echo.

"No. . .no. It's impossible. You're not real" his head shook in disbelief, violet eyes wide in shock. There had to be another explanation to this. To who this strange being was.

"You called, Rhysand. So I came."

"But- but how? Am I dreaming?"

An amused smile crossed her face, soft pink lips lifting into a gracious curve, "Is that what you think this is? A dream?"

His brows furrowed as he considered the star's words.

"No" he concluded, heart sinking at his realization, "This is real. I haven't had a dream in fifty years."

"And why is that?" she questioned, her siren's song attempting to draw the words out from his lips, even though Rhysand had the unsettling feeling that she already knew the answer. That she probably already knew everything about him.

The thought of which churned his stomach in an unpleasant way. Had she been able to see everything that happened under the mountain, even though Rhysand couldn't see her? His rising anxiety over this prospect rendered him unable to speak.

"You've asked me who I am," she started attempting to soothe his rising worries by giving him something else to think about, "But who are you Rhysand? You want to feel like you again so badly? Who is that?"

"I. . . I don't know. I don't know who I am" he cried, searching eyes boring into the star's as if her silver orbs would hold the answer that he's looking for. But they remained untelling, instead they only willed him to continue speaking.

"What I do know. . . Is that I'm not the same man who entered that mountain."

Her unwavering smile remained, its presence pouring through Rhysand, relaxing him until it reached his very soul.

"And why do you have to be?" she asked, moving closer to the male so he could absorb some of her calming energy.

"Because it's what's expected of me?" he meant to say it as a statement, make the point that his court and his family were relying on his council now he had returned, yet his words came out more as a question, seeking truth from the empathetic features of the star.

"Expected of you? From your court? From your friends and family? Or is it just yourself telling you that."

She was right of course. Her piercing eyes already knowing the truth about the male before he did. Yet, where he usually would have found it annoying, there was something rejuvenating at the way she was able to understand him.

At the way she was able to peel apart the layers of his swirling thoughts, unstick the pages of the book who made him who he was. Mend the broken edges and the cracked spine. Her words acting as the hands which where smoothing the pages back to normal.

She turned her face to the sky, eyes casting beyond the overhanging canopy to meet the night sky. Silvery eyes lovingly looking upon her family.

"We never stopped waiting for you Rhysand. Fifty years we looked down to that mountain. Waiting for when the day would come that you returned from its depths."

His heart ached sweetly at the knowledge. A sad smile creeping onto his face at the awareness that the stars had longed for his return.

That whilst he had been trapped within the shadows of the mountain thinking of them, they had kept their eyes on his prison, waiting for him to return.

"You're not broken Rhys" she confided, "You're still the same man who went under the mountain, if not an even stronger one. You stared death in the face and you lived. You're here. Allow yourself to feel the pain. Give yourself the time to heal. There is light on the other side."

"But what if I can't find it?" Rhysand worried, "What if I get lost?"

"You never will. We will guide you Rhys, just as we always have."

She began to glow with more ferocity, Rhysand having to squint his eyes once more from the force of the light she emitted. Fear sparking inside his chest at the realization that she was leaving, that her time here was drawing to a close.

"No, you can't go! I need you!" he begged, doing his best to desperately stare into the light so she knew just how serious he was being.

"I'm always there Rhys. I'll watch over you every night, all you have to do is look up."

By this point the sheer brightness of her presence was too overwhelming, Rhysand having to turn around to avoid being blinded. His violet eyes turned to the ground where they locked onto the shadow of his figure. Onto him. Not the fractured male he had assumed crawled out from the mountain. But Rhysand, High Lord of the night court.

"We're always listening Rhysand, and every dream you send to us shall be answered. All you have to do is ask."

The light behind him vanished. Leaving the male standing in the dark solitude of the forest. But he wasn't alone. He knew that now as he turned his glistening eyes to the night sky.

Lips upturned in a peaceful smile.

"Thank you" He whispered gratefully to the stars.

And Rhysand could have sworn that the stars smiled back.

[whereserpentswalk]

When the human known to us as Christ arrived in the underworld, gods and shades alike were horrified. It was always a big deal when demigods arrived in the underworld, but this one had died so brutally, a young man, not even old enough to grow a beard, tourtued to death at the will of his own divine parentage, the blood dripping from his shade's hands.

The high gods of the underworld brought him up to their tower to figure out what happened. Christ had recoiled from them at first, thinking they were Devils, but had to take Anubis's hand to ascend the tower's steps, as his legs were badly wounded. The gods of the dead looked at him with both sympathy and horror, it was the first time a he had seen a god look at him with either of those emotions.

Hades swore that this was his brother's doing, but even then it crossed a new line. The description of a god impregnating a young girl in Bethlehem fit what Hades knew of Zeus, but to harm his own son in such a way, as part of a ploy to try to gain all of Rome for him alone, had proven his brother's reign growing darker. Still, he took mercy on the young man, promising him at least three days safety in the underworld without his father trying to claim him again. Hades wondered if the poor girl knew when she held her child that he was born to suffer and die, just as the mothers of great heros knew their destiny. Hades hoped Chrsit would have a chance to stay longer, his wife would return in the fall, and he had the same kind eyes as her, she would probably like to know him.

Hel came to comfort Christ once he had a chance to rest. She helped tend his wounds, and pet his head, and for the first time christ was held by a divinity that didn't expect anything from him. And she told him stories of her father to cheer him up after meeting with such a horrible fate. And she told him that no father should ever do such a thing as what his father had done to his child, that if she had known in time she would have saved him. And she let him be comforted as a human, instead of being a lord of all humanity. And for a momment he didn't have to be the son of god who felt alone while bleeding and dying, but the son of the carpenter Joseph who had been reminded of home when he felt the wood of the cross.

He wasn't allowed to stay, his father wanted him back, back to be the bleeding prince of a new and lonely kingdom. And the underworld wept for him, not because the underworld was deprived of Christ, but because Christ was deprived of the underworld.

[rowiewritesstuff]

Yandere G1 Soundwave with auotbot femme reader saving one of his cassette? Please?

Yandere Soundwave X Autobot! Femme! Reader

Out of all the autobots, you were by far the most caring. Despite being enemies of the Decepticons, you never hated them. You knew why they started the war- even if they went about it the wrong way. 

Instead of participating in the violence, you opted to instead keep everything organized, and everyone cared for. You made sure the weapons were cleaned and safe to use, that everyone was recharged and fed, and kept Wheeljack from blowing up the base (every other Friday). You also knew a little bit of first aid to get by.

With that regard, no one ever expected you to fight. You were a pacifist through and through- so when you went on a mission with them, they were shocked. You were just going with the intent of recon for a possible energon source- no one ever expected the fire fight that happened an hour into the mission. 

You hid behind a rock while your Autobot friends fought with the likes of Soundwave, his minicons, and the trine. The battle was fierce as many Autobots and Decepticons alike were injured- and then you saw it. 

A minicon bird was about to be blown up. While they were your enemies, you knew that dying like that was brutal. Before you could stop yourself you were running over, throwing the bird minicon as far as you could away from the explosion.

All you could hear before you were blown up was the shouts of panic from your friends. All of the fighting seemed to have stopped as both sides realized what happened- you had saved a Decepticon.

A moment later, you were knocked unconscious. Everyone looked on in shock or horror as you were thrown into the sky. Smoke surrounded the area you were in, and no one could see what happened for a few moments as the smoke cleared. 

There was your body, lying limp on the ground. Energon leaked from several spots on your body. Many assumed you were dead- and not even the Decepticons mocked your injuries. It was pure silence as Ratchet ran over to you and checked for a spark pulse. 

“She’s alive! Get her back to base, NOW!” The terrified medic called out. The Decepticons went to fight the fleeing Autobots before Laserbeak and Soundwave stopped them. 

Soundwave couldn’t explain his feelings. He had never even seen you before. An Autobot jumping in to save a Decepticon was almost unheard of- and yet, there you were. You jumped into an explosion and there’s no telling if you’ll survive your injuries. You had saved his child, knowing full well you could die. 

Soundwave looked you up in the Decepticon database when he got back. He found out that you were a neutral for a long time until Decepticon forces destroyed your home. Instead of killing, you made it your mission to save lives- Decepticon or Autobot.

At the Autobot base, it took you a month to get back on your feet. Your body was weak, needing extensive physical therapy. Everyone was fretting over you and it drove you crazy- so you snuck out of the base for a drive. You cruised through country roads, with no clue you were being followed. 

Soundwave had been stalking you since you’d been injured, his minicons monitoring your status. He wanted to know why you helped Laserbeak. It was about a week in he found out your hatred for the war. You said you didn’t understand why the Decepticons were still fighting- however you just dreaded the idea of hating them.

Since then, Soundwave wondered if he could turn you to the Decepticons. He found you when you were driving, and jumped in front of you. You were panicked, trying to drive away. You were too slow and the minicons easily stopped you.

You transformed back into your botmode, and held your hands up in surrender. “I don’t want trouble.”

Soundwave tilted his head at you. He thought it was adorable when you shook with fear. He loved how terrified you looked- though he preferred it when you looked happy. 

“Designation: Soundwave.”

You blinked, confused that he told you his name. “O-oh. Nice to meet you- I’m (Y/N).” When he didn’t speak back, you looked down at the minicons. You saw the bird minicon, and smiled. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

Laserbeak squawked and landed on your shoulder. He nuzzled into your neck cabling. You giggled at the funny feeling and moved him to your arm. 

Soundwave watched closely- yes, you’d make a great addition to his family. The minicons needed someone motherly to keep them out of trouble when he wasn’t there. Soundwave reached out to you, touching your faceplate. 

“What are you doing?” You looked embarrassed at the close proximity.

“Order: Return with us.” Soundwave grabbed your servo and pulled you along.

“Hey, no! I have to get back to the Autobots- It’s nice to meet you, but I’m no Decepticon!”

You felt something jump on your back- it was Ravage. The other minicons pinned you down to the ground as Soundwave leaned down. “Statement: You have no choice.”

[factual-fantasy]

16 Asks! thank you!! :}} 🦦

@psype

If we're going with the order I got them in the games.. then yes! I imagine that the team started out with Midori meeting Gloria and it built up from there :))

Though I wonder.. I feel like Gloria and Midori are both the shy and quiet type.. perhaps it could be that Bonnie, being a social butterfly, was the one that started and even grew the group? :00

@sussyhahag

THANK YOU! I ACCPT THE C H E S E :))))

Thank you!! And yeah, poor Emmet <XDD

@shiny-tinkaton135

Is that skibidi toilet???

I will never be the same after having read and imagined this

HHURRGENNN THANK YOUUUU 😭😭❤️❤️❤️❤️

@pokeartxilla

Oh hey! Well you know what they say, great minds think alike! XDD

@littlelightfish

XDD Okay, I'll tell him-- wait are you good what you mean the horrors--

@candyglumboy

They have not.. :((( If I knew more about that Pokémon I would have drawn an interaction.. <XD

@beryl-shade

I have not :(( though after googling it, it does look like something I'd like 👀👀

(I cannot remember what post this ask is referring to :(( Sorry! Maybe to was this one..?)

What I got from that is that Gengars ground pound to show affection XDD I love it!!

😭😭IT MAKES SENSE TO ME!! THANK YOU SO MUCHHH!!! :}}}

@wolfwraithartz

:DDD Thank you so much! And I totally encourage it! I've been having a blast drawing mine, maybe you'll have fun with yours! :))

Nah.. <:/ sorry!

(Post in question)

SOBBINGGGG THATS SO SADDDDDD 😭😭💔💔💔💔

@neo-metalscottic (So many Joltiks post)

My day is going well, thank you! I hope you can say the same! :)) And thank you! I'm glad you've been enjoying my submas stuff! :}}

Hmm.. now that I think about it, Anastasias shiny status would probably cause a lot of problems for her. Since she isn't her natural colors, its probably harder for her to blend in like normal Kricketot do.

Being that bright shiny gold color would make her stand out like a sore thumb, so running and hiding from poachers/shiny hunters proobably wouldn't work.. I can see the group running into shiny hunters and having to stand their ground.

Thankfully the team are all pretty tough and are decently diverse in their typing. So that shouldn't be too hard for them..

As for pokeballs and humans.. that's a good question. I STILL haven't fully decided if my team has a trainer or not. I'm kiiiind'a going off of the theme that they're all wild..? But even so, I'd like to think the team doesn't have a bad view of humans and caught pokemon-

I can imagine the team, mostly Gloria- understands that not all humans are bad. They've seen the bonds that Pokémon share with humans and understand that they just happen to encounter the uh.. unpleasant humans.

I'd also like to think that if a Pokémon wants to be with a human, they probably aren't bothered by pokeballs too much. They probably see it as an odd tool that helps humans and their partners stay together.

Of course though, knowing all that they still get the bad end of the stick with both.. humans usually are loud and aggressive. Trying to catch the pretty Gardevoir or shiny kricketot.. its a mixed bag <XD

[mari-lair]

If Aoi met any AUs. What kind of, would she meet...? (Like how her boyfriends did)

I'm glad you asked, I have many thoughts about Aoi's own dimension-hopping adventure! Here is a summary of her journey:

World 1 is wonderful, if overwhelming. It's the 80s and she has many friends, familiar ones (Nene) and new ones too (Mei, Sakura), who can talk to her about silly and serious stuff alike. People greet her with a smile, happy to see her, and worried too, commenting about how closed off she is today. Akane is her boyfriend, and he is the same as always, except he loves gardening, as careful with his garden as he is with her. They have plans of opening a flower shop together, he even has a jar half filled with money in his house for the shop.

Part of Aoi is tempted to stay forever in this beautiful dream, but she doesn't know these people, even Akane, her constant since childhood, feels strange and she feels like she doesn't deserve any of it, running off when she sees this world's version of herself. People are confused and startled when they realize she is not from this dimension, but they help her get out. No hard feelings. She takes flower seeds with her.

World 2 Aoi is dating Shijima (No.4, the supernatural one). She has never seen Shijima Mei before, she just knows her from the rumors. It's weird to have this strange girl know her so well. Aoi assumes they are besties for a while and gets a '???!!!!!' moment when she visits Shijima's atelier and sees so many paintings of herself, some are very tender drawings of them together, but most are of just her. Her in cities, in the stars, in creepy buildings she recognizes from horror movies and games, in the center of a concert spotlights, and so on... She learns this world's Aoi used to be in the hospital, and Shijima used to draw her in different places to make her feel better, not judging any of her requests, be them cute or creepy. By the end of this trip, Aoi will forge a strong bond with Shijima before meeting this world's Aoi and panicking. She is given a small portrait of her with a bedhead and an unrestrained smile as a farewell gift, Aoi tried to refuse the embarrassing gift but Mei insists.

The last dimension has her favorite flowers on every street, it's like the city was tailored for her, but it feels off... This city is ruled by an overpowered Aoi who is a twisted mirror of her insecurities, always at her worst: She is paranoic, open in her mistrust of others, and far more controlling of her loved ones. People don't talk behind her back, but they visibly fear her, she is respected but she is avoided, Akane is the only one by her side, as devoted as ever, but something about him feels as unsettling as this brand new world. It doesn't take long for canon Aoi to realize that despite feeling as deligent and kind as usual this Akane is alone, people are terrified to approach him. He is obedient even when she can tell he is scared/uncomfortable, and get anxious if she acts nice. Aoi hates it. She hates this world's Aoi more than she hates herself.

This world's Aoi would kill her on sight. It's a scary experience that makes canon Aoi rethink a lot about her life and her own relationships. The new dimension Akane is an ally to Canon Aoi, being the best at hiding her cause 'he know how his Aoi work better than anyone' but he is not very trustworthy, he may not want Canon Aoi dead, but he is loyal to his Aoi first and foremost. Aoi doesn't trust him. This world's Aoi and Akane are not dating but they do have a fucked up "she has a tracker on me, I am the only one who can make her cry" thing going on that scare the hell out of canon Aoi. She gets nothing as a farewell gift.

(This dimension has similar vibes to my Wonderland AU, if you like toxic aoikane)

[kerubimcrepin]

Liveblog - Dofus, livre 1 : Julith [PART 14]

Joris's face here goes hard. His lifelong streak of being disappointed in everything begins here.

:(

I genuinely have no comment beyond wanting to hug him. And also the fact that the way he says "LEGENDARY BUT DEAD FATHER (derogatory)" is so fucking iconic.

They're a lot alike. No matter how she feels about Joris, or her issues, she's not a fail-aunt.... shes the aunt that Stepped Up. She understands. As she understands, they both lost someone to Julith, and that unites them.

I like to think that, while their relationship post-movie is would probably be turbulent at times, — because they're similar, and hate themselves for similar things, but have different ways of processing these things, — that they were close.

He put on a brave face. But Bakara knows him too well.

I really doubt that Jahash and Kerubim had a close co-working relationship like Julith and Atcham seem to have.

Here's some conjecture/headcanons: I think that Bakara and Jahash's father has passed away at this point, which is why Joris was given to Kerubim. Kerubim was probably summoned to Bonta/went there to help people of his own volition, despite already being retired. Jahash just had no one else to entrust Joris to, — other than the kind, elderly man who always told stories as they walked to the battlefield during the war.

It's kind of sad.

I wonder what Jahash asked of him. "Find him a loving family"? "Take care of him"? "Keep him safe"? Or was he completely silent?

No matter what he said, or didn't say, Kerubim has always wanted to be a father. Even if, in his old age, he has long accepted that it simply wasn't his fate.

I bet it felt like the world was making a cruel joke on all of their expenses.

Kerubim knows what is going to happen to her, going forward.

Do you ever think about the fact that this was the last time Jahash could ever hold her?

He was probably just as outwardly serene, yet utterly devastated, when she was a child, and he could do nothing but watch, as their father saved her from drowning.

As he said in the Julith et Jahash comic: It's why he learned how to help people.

"Bakara, for her part, needed much more... with Jahash's departure, her world collapsed."

He was so scared he couldn't even move. He could only clutch this child closer.

I think it's easy for him to compartmentalize what happened to Kerubim, while realizing that Lilotte's life is at stake. It's not the time to be emotional. And, he and Bakara have a shared enemy, who killed people they love dearly.

Another plea from Bakara as a person who is quite sure she was personally orphaned by Julith, to Joris as someone who was literally orphaned by Julith.

And a not-so-subtle implication of "and you have to be one too, this time," is here too, I suppose.

If papycha was in this situation, he would have been brave too. There will be time to be sad, but not now.

When the push really comes to shove, he's pretty good at suppressing his sadness. We've seen this from his meltdown during the argument with Kerubim, and some select moments of Aux Tresors.

Anyway, do you think Kerubim went back for his stupid hole armour when he could finally form conscious thoughts, and brought it back to Joris's horror, — or do you think that by that time, random other demigods have stolen it, and he had to go on a wild goosechase to retrieve it (so he could keep using it) (while not fixing the FUCKING HOLE IN THE CHEST!!!)?

His 22 sons and NONE of his daughters. #misogyny

Someone loved Kerubim as much as Joris does.

[comfortabletogether]

akane,teruya,kanade,hibiki and nikei (seperate) w/ a f!s/o who acts like/is similar to charlie morningstar,from hazbin hotel? like s/os family has high/decent social standing,but isnt entirely respected,believes theres good in everyone,is highly optimistic,but also rly stubborn,ect.

thank you for the request!! I appreciate the support!!

Sorry I’m advance but i ended up loosing a lot of momentum while writing this along with the fact that I didn’t actually love Hazbin Hotel. I didn’t have enough energy to do Hibiki and Nikei. I also didn’t exactly know what to write for them either. My apologies for dw I’ll probably write a part 2 when my requests open again!!

WARNING: SPOILERS; KANADE; MENTIONS OF KINJO

~ Mod Haruhiko ✈️

Akane Taira

🫧 Akane treasures your optimistic, go-getter attitude. She feels inspired by it, and whatever project you are working on she’ll be there for support, as you will always be to her. 

🫧 She has seen some of the horrors the world has to offer, from a nasty orphanage that caught on fire to the mistreatment she’s gotten working as a maid. Akane feels slightly protective over you because of your naive.

🫧 You and Yuki are a lot alike in Akane’s eyes, wanting to help solve almost everyone’s problems. And she’ll be there with the two of you, and she will often remind you that you aren’t responsible for everyone’s wellbeing.

🫧 In this vile killing game, your optimism and persistence is one of the only things that truly keep her going. In a situation that has so much blood spilt she looks up to you.

🫧 Although Akane feels lucky to be able to spend time with you, she gets really scared when you hang out with other people except Yuki for some reason. But she’s terrified someone will take your naive and trusting nature for granted.

🫧 Akane loves you so dearly, you are a beacon of life and hope in her life. Her way to finally love someone and have that be reciprocated.

Kanade Otonokoji

🎵 Kanade enjoys your cheerful attitude she finds it funny at first wondering how long it would take for you to break. because nobody could really be that nice and wonderful, right?

🎵 You worked were a graphic designer who helped create Melody Rythme’s posters for their charity concerts. And despite Hibiki being constantly her puppet Kanade was quickly growing bored. That’s when she realized that she valued you as a person as well, and immediately assumed you out.

🎵 Kanade became possessive and protective over you, wanting you to only help her. You were so kind and wonderful why would you want to waste your energy on someone irrelevant when you could be helping her? Don’t you want to help your girlfriend after her sister pushed her over?

🎵 Kanade typically uses your naive nature against you. She loves you and she doesn’t understand how to love without manipulation. But if someone else tries to attempt to manipulate you, Kanade will go apeshit on them. Because how dare they?? That’s Kanade’s job

🎵 But being around you makes Kanade feel like she is improving as a person more. That she’s becoming a better person for example she hasn’t killed anyone in almost half a year. She loves that you are changing her for the better.

🎵 Kanade probably writes all the love songs on her and Hibiki’s albums, and they are all about you and the stuff you and Kanade had done together. For example one of the tracks is your name backwards and it’s a bunch of imagery of a gorgeous girl. (Same vibes as Jolene but gay).

Teruya Otori

💴 When Kinjo brings you in to work for the intelligence Team on the Kisaragi foundation, Teruya was a bit skeptical. Especially after Utsuro had told them that the police force had fallen into despair but Kinjo reassured them that you were a trusted ally.

💴 Apparently you had also been related to Kinjo, being second or third cousins but still if Kinjo trusted you, then Teruya would too.

💴 The first thing he noticed was how different you were to Kinjo, especially in your beliefs. While the two of you are both headstrong and stubborn, you believe that even the worst of people should be able to have a second chance. That is probably what drew him towards you the most.

💴 He had experienced firsthand the horrors of this world, and therefore he is very protective over you. You are too easily trusting and that could lead to a situation similar to one’s he has seen in the past.

💴 Due to your stubbornness though, it’s very common that you and Keisuke or Tsurugi would get into fights and the talk palm tree will often have to physically separate you and them. He’s always proud of you for standing up for what you believe in and Teruya might end up developing your beliefs.

💴 Teruya is really entrapped by your kind and pleasant nature, and that you want to help people in need and trust me Teruya is in plenty of need of emotional support. After that Killing Game— he is so messed up. 

[phoebepheebsphibs]

Sketchin’

[vladdyissues]

I once read the post where Vlad said: "This anime is obviously a romantic school comedy! Danny and I are the main characters, so it means we are love interests. (to Jazz, Tuck, Sam) You guys are the heterosexual support cast, so make sure do not across the line" (I saved screenshot but Idk how to add photo in ask). Developing the subject, how do you see this anime au? Sailor moon alike relationship? Should it also be a horror cause of creepy natural ghosts?

I've never seen Sailor Moon so I can't comment, but it definitely seems like Danny Phantom was heavily influenced by Yu Yu Hakusho, so it wouldn't take a lot of mental gymnastics to envision an anime version of DP being a lot like this, mixing humor and drama and the supernatural. I'd love to see some actual horror thrown in, though. Animes like Vampire Hunter D and Bio-Booster Armor Guyver come to mind. Guyver's not actually billed as horror, but there's enough body horror, gore, and horror elements in it to qualify, in my opinion. I mean, look at this thing, it's terrifying:

Aside: This ask got me nostalgic for Guyver and I went and watched a few episodes. (The last time I saw it was in the 90s on VHS.) I was floored. There is so much it has in common with DP that I wonder if Hartman wasn't inspired by it as well.

Compare: the black-haired, blue-eyed MC (Sho) who's not the best student, had a disfiguring experience involving something with lots of power and now has two different personas, human and non-human, the latter having incredible strength and unearthly energy that he uses to combat threatening entities that are Not Of This World; best friends are a glasses-wearing geek and a girl who's also the show's love interest, completing the trio. Of course Sho spends a great deal of time protecting his friends, but they also cheer him on from the sidelines and offer help when able, much like Tucker and Sam.

But get this: The only other person with a Guyver armor happens to be the villain (spoiler: not really the villain, it's all an act, and eventually they team up). This is the guy:

Long hair. V-hairline. Sideburns. Thick black eyebrows. The English dub isn't that good, but this guy's voice is deep and nice to listen to. He's supposed to be a student but looks like he's 35.

Anyway. DP anime.

I don't see much changing at all plot-wise. Upping the rating to at least PG-13 is definitely prescribed, so there can be things like blood and fantasy violence and adult humor. Let Danny say "hell", "damn", "bastard", and the occasional "shit", like in YYH. Naturally, Vlad and Danny would start out as rivals before laying aside their differences and teaming up to save the world—which is exactly the formula that YYH and BBAG follow in terms of enemies-to-allies.

I'm imagining a steady progression of saving each other's butts and fighting increasingly powerful enemies until it comes to a point that they both realize they'd die for each other. (Literally Kuwabara and Yusuke lmao.)

In fact, just do a DP/YYH wardrobe swap for all the characters, because Dan Dan Phantom Show is something I'd pay money to see 😂

[kookieswan]

Red Light - The Depths Below

Nightmare!Hoseok x Psychologist!Reader

Word Count: 2k

Genre: Horror AU, Monster AU, Psychological horror, a little bit of Angst , some Fluff as well.

Warnings: Taehyung is a little shit tbh. Pretty tame this chapter, insinuation of experimentation and talk of the deeper floors. It should be noted that this story will contain themes of horror/psychological horror and also explore obsessive behaviors and codependency. Many characters are morally gray. Please be warned!

Summary: Great minds think alike; you would have stole Williams’ office too.

Notes: This takes place the night of ‘Tea and Crumpets’! I hope you all enjoy, it’s a pretty dialogue heavy chapter heh.

This Part 33 of the Red Light series. Find the Masterlist here ♥️

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You wanted to meet with me?” Peeking through the door, you spot Dr. Kim sitting on the opposing side of the dark wooden desk. He glances up from his paperwork, glasses sliding down his nose as a boxy smile comes to his face. He stands, gesturing for you to come in quickly.

“Ah, yes! Come in Dr. _____, please take a seat. Coffee, tea?” Sliding into the office and into the soft chair, you wonder just how he managed to steal Williams’ office from under his nose. Perhaps he asked? Then again, Doctor Taehyung Kim seems like the type to just take if he wants. You’d take it too.

“Ah, tea please… Is this not Williams’ office? I’m surprised he gave it up.” Dr. Kim picks up the tea pot sitting on the desk, flipping over the other cup to pour some for you. You watch silently, quietly amused as he reaches over to give you the cup. Taking it gently, you take note of the peppermint scent and take a sip. It’s quite good, but you wouldn’t expect anything less.

“Oh, it is, but I needed a home-base for the time being, so here we are. I’m sure he understands, he’s such a lovely bloke.” The man sits down with a thump, folding his hands together with a deep breath. You raise your brows and look back at him, mildly expressing that the tea is delicious. With a nod, his expression dims ever so slightly.

“I’m going to be frank with you; the way that this facility is being run isn’t to my liking. I’ve been in many of them and even ran a number of our facilities and yet… I think this one is one of the worst I’ve seen.” Ah, there it is. At least someone beside you doesn’t like how things are being done around here. Nodding your head, you continue to listen as Dr. Kim’s frown deepens even further.

“I’m aware that you only have access to the 13th floor and haven’t the faintest idea of what’s happening elsewhere. I think that’s in your best interest personally, but if you’re curious I won’t turn away your questions. Before you ask…” Now that’s a little surprising. You could ask him a million things, dig deeper than you should… Bur you know that’s not wise. Dr. Kim seems like a trustworthy ally, but things could change rather quickly if you step on your toes.

“Your floor, the 13th, is relatively stable compared to the botched state of the others. The five Nightmares stationed here are under control for the most part and barely act out. It wasn’t reported to be that way until you showed up those months ago.” A sense of twisted pride swells in your chest because you know how true that is. You’ve read the reports, you know how bad things were before you turned up. No one was able to really understand what the Nightmares have been facing, and that was their downfall.

“I try my best to listen and understand their concerns. An open ear and mind is all it really takes to comprehend some of the turmoil they face.” Your voice is quiet but firm, interjecting your thoughts into Taehyung’s deliverance. He doesn’t seem perturbed by it though, eyes brightening ever so slightly as he takes a quick sip of his tea.

“Which is why the issues lies deeper, not with you, but down in the depths below. The Nightmares that live there lack any sense of humanity; they’ve lost themselves completely and are nothing more than monsters now. I know you’re aware that it can happen given certain circumstances.” You’re very aware, it makes you think back to the first time Hoseok protected you from the horrid down here. The Nightmare that came for you… There wasn’t a hint of human like features to it, it’s form completely monstrous. It’s true form.

… You wonder if he’s listening in, likely not having much else to do in his cell. It’s something you don’t want to ponder on for too long though, because it begs the question of how often does he listen? How long? What has he heard…? Probably entirely too much. A wave of embarrassment washes over you as you tune back into what Dr. Kim has to say.

“What I’m going to ask of you is relatively simple; keep your Nightmares sane, keep them safe, and keep them out of trouble to the best of your ability. I know you have a few wildcards to deal with, but we don’t need any more negative attention turned your way, do we? I have enough of these piss-poor doctors wagging their tongues about this and that.” It’s enough to make you chuckle into your tea, Taehyung’s distaste for the other doctors just as clear as your is. There’ll be absolutely no issue with keeping your Nightmares sane; it’s been your goal all along to help them. Dr. Kim leans back in his chair, finally giving you the floor.

“Now, is there anything you wish to ask me? Any concerns? I’m sure you’ve learned by now that I hold a certain control over the happenings in the facility.” Yes, that was quite clear after he gave orders to Williams and the unbearable man actually listened. Biting your cheek for a bit, you consider your words and speak them very carefully.

“… Truthfully, I don’t even know where to start with my concerns. There are many.” Many, too many to even count. Taehyung hums, eyes narrowing every so slightly, but he stays quiet to let you continue, and so you do.

“The way my Nightmares are treated… It needs to change. They need stimulation to stay sane, Dr. Kim. They need more than the white walls they stare at all day, they need activities and social interaction. I wish to give them that, to give them more than what they have right now.” You’ve been trying to do so, an open secret to those who have caught on. It’s clear that some of the doctors don’t like it, but so far, you haven’t been stopped. But honestly, it’s not a matter of if, it’s of when.

“I see no issue with any of those things. I suppose the problem is getting the okay to do so from your direct superior?” Shifting in your seat, you feel your skin crawl at the thought of it. You’d be ridiculed immediately, and you’re sure he’d get others in on it because he’s just that kind of horrid.

“I haven’t asked. I know any request like that will be shot down quickly.” Shot down, and he’d find some way to undermine it. Hoseok and the others weren’t wrong when they warned you, no. The fire that you’re playing with is very hot and you’ve already burnt a few fingers… But at this point, really, what’s a few more?

Taehyung stands from his seat, quiet for a moment as he picks up a picture frame sitting on Williams desk. You have no idea what it holds, but it’s enough to make the mans face scrunch as he practically drops it back into the desk. He stretches out distractedly, voice coming out in a yawn.

“Well, you have my permission as your superiors superior. Do whatever you need, Hell, throw a damn party if you want; but if you do, I want an invite. There will be no exciting bashes without me present. If Williams had an issue, he can come to me about it. I would love that little talk.” If you had to pinpoint it, you’d say his tone borderlines on nearly sadistic. Sadly for Williams, you would to see that talk happen in real time, Dr. Kim’s sadism easily becoming yours.

He comes around the desk and sits on the edge, his long white coat riding up ever so slightly. It’s then finally you note the eye bags he sports, the way his hair looks a little disheveled. The poor man looks like he hasn’t gotten any sleep in at least two days, and with his job, you bet that’s the case.

“Being a tad more serious, I’ll give you some funds to do whatever you please with. As long as it passes through security, you can bring whatever you want with you to work as well. I heard of the pudding, and think it was quite the adorable gesture.” It makes you heat up a little as you shrug, fully knowing it was a bit of a silly idea. Still, it got you the results you wanted from what you can tell. If opening a bakery gets Namjoon to act like himself, then so but it.

“I don’t have any other serious issues for the time being. As long as my patients are happy, I’ll be content. The rest is bearable.” Bearable… Annoying, but bearable. Taking another sip of your cooling tea, you suppose as long as the other doctors don’t pull anything stupid, you should be fine. Apparently Taehyung doesn’t think so as he scoffs.

“Bearable is an interesting word choice. You’re a strong woman in a world full of sexist men _____, I can never be fully aware of what you face but I think I have a slight idea. You have my utmost respect for doing what you do, and I’ll do anything in my power to keep you in this facility.” It’s shocking to hear honestly and you try your best to keep it off your face. You knew obviously that Dr. Kim wasn’t against you like the others, but this… This is amazing.

“Thank you, Dr. Kim.” He stares at you thoughtfully, watching you fidget in your seat under his gaze. Letting out a slight chuckle, he lightly kicks one of Williams’ many filing cabinets, leaving behind a scuff on the wood.

“You may call me Taehyung privately. I think we understand each other well, there’s no need for formalities.” Ah, to rid this place of formalities. It’s funny; you don’t even know what Williams first name is. Most of the personnel down here don’t care to disclose that kind of info if it can be avoided it seems. And heaven forbid you call the Nightmares by their names. Either way, you note the trust within his gesture.

“Alright. Thank you Taehyung, then.” He nods his head and claps, looking very satisfied with your conversation. Flattening out the creases in your skirt idly, you certainly feel the same. This went much better than you could have expected.

“Perfect! I’m serious; any other issues, bring them to me and I’ll do what I can. I won’t always be on this floor but if I’m around, do come by. You may go now, that’s everything I wanted to say.” You stand slowly, picking up the cup of tea and fully intending to bring it with you. Perhaps it’s Williams cup, but perhaps you don’t care. As you turn to leave, snake like eyes enter your bought and you halt.

“Ah, before I leave… Jimin has requested that you sit in on our next session. He says he won’t meet with me again unless you’re present.” A very smug grin comes to the other doctors face, eyes sharpening ever so slightly behind his glasses. You don’t even want to begin to understand the game they’re playing, even if it is your job to psychoanalyze.

“Has he now? Such a vicious little snake wants me to play Doctor with him? Well, I couldn’t possibly refuse such an invite. Let me know when it’s scheduled and I’ll make sure to attend.” Nodding your head, you turn to leave, a million thoughts racing through your mind. There’s so many things you’ll have to prepare for the Nightmares, so much shopping to be done. Taehyung calls out one more time as you go to close the door behind you, voice amused.

“Oh, and if you could find a way to get Yoongi to stop painting on the walls with blood, that would be lovely. Have a good evening, _____.” It sounds genuine, and you really hope it is. Giving the man a kind smile, you reply quietly in earnest.

“You too Taehyung. Thank you.”

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Jessica Valenti at Abortion, Every Day:

Since the end of Roe, we’ve watched women arrested for miscarriages, children forced to give birth, cancer patients denied care, and women stripped of vital reproductive organs. We’ve seen women die.  We now live in a country where hospitals routinely turn away miscarrying patients, and OBGYNs advise pregnant women to get insurance to cover helicopter flights in case they need emergency care that would be illegal in their home state.  All this, so a handful of conservative men can proudly declare themselves protectors of ‘life’. Whose lives, I wonder, are they protecting? Certainly not ours. 

The political leaders tasked to safeguard us instead fight to deny women emergency abortions or pass laws that require us to become paralyzed and infertile rather than end a pregnancy. Even the deaths of women and infants aren’t enough to spur empathy: Since Texas passed its abortion ban, for example, infant mortality jumped by nearly 13% and maternal mortality increased by 56%. How many mothers are they willing to kill in the name of being ‘pro-family’? Because let’s be clear: anti-abortion politicians and lobbyists knew women would die if they overturned Roe, and they did it anyway. They spent years carefully, strategically, and callously planning for our deaths. I mean that literally. Republicans are appointing anti-abortion extremists to maternal mortality review committees or disbanding these boards altogether. At the same time, anti-abortion organizations are sowing distrust in credible maternal death data, while Republicans pass laws that artificially inflate abortion ‘complication’ rates—efforts designed to make it seem that abortion is killing women, rather than the laws prohibiting it.

In fact, there’s an entire cottage industry devoted to hiding how deadly abortion bans are—from anti-choice ‘experts’ who testify in legislative hearings to the organizations churning out dubious studies that conservative lawmakers can use as ‘proof’ that abortion bans are perfectly safe. The tactic I think about most, though, is the one I warned about just over two years ago. In October 2022, I reported that anti-abortion lawmakers and activists were testing out a new talking point in anticipation of the first reported post-Dobbs death. Prompted by stories of burst ectopic pregnancies and women left bleeding for days, Republicans knew it was only a matter of time before someone died. So they decided to get ahead of the inevitable. Suddenly, anti-abortion legislators, activists, and conservative pundits began claiming—almost in unison—that abortion bans don’t stop doctors from providing care. Instead, they insisted women were being denied care because pro-choicers had frightened medical professionals and their lawyers into misreading the laws. “In other words, they set the world on fire and want to blame the people pointing out that it’s burning,” I wrote at the time.

Today, this is the exact anti-abortion response to the deaths of Candi Miller and Amber Nicole Thurman. Legislators and activists alike claim that it’s pro-choice “fearmongering and lies” about anti-abortion laws that killed the two women. We’re supposed to believe—despite a determination from Georgia’s maternal mortality review committee and two years of horror stories—that these deaths have nothing to do with abortion bans. That hospital lawyers across the country don’t know how to do their jobs, and that the laws anti-abortion activists spent decades drafting aren’t being interpreted exactly as intended. Come on. It’s not a coincidence that these messages are echoed, almost verbatim, by conservative media. (When I say this is all by design, I mean it.) The Washington Examiner has blamed “abortion disinformation” for Thurman and Miller’s deaths, while the Wall Street Journal accused Vice President Kamala Harris of “exploiting” a tragedy that had nothing to do with abortion bans. A Fox News article claimed that Georgia doctors were speaking out against “misinformation” about the state’s ban—but it turned out to be an interview of two Republican lawmakers who happened to be doctors. 

[...] Anti-abortion lawmakers and activists think they can distance themselves from what they’ve done to American women—horrors they meticulously planned and continue to try to cover up. They need us to forget or accept what’s been clear every day since Roe was overturned. I don’t know about you, I’m not willing to do either.

Jessica Valenti’s Abortion, Every Day Substack has spot-on analysis that abortion bans championed by anti-abortion activists who have the gall to call themselves “pro-family” under the guise of “protecting the unborn” kill women.

[writer-of-the-lamb]

I have another scenario for you, this time it's more angsty and serious. I've seen through the game the Bishops even after they came back to life still don't show any show of regret about the lamb kind genocide. There's not a moment when I don't think how angry Lamb would be to have the same murderers of his kind still acting like when they were Gods and having no amount of shame of what they have done. Under their eyes Lamb would show his darkest face of the lamb who lost everything. The Bishops would see the most powerful God that has existed while Narinder sees a little lamb in grief.

thank u so much for this! i adore the idea AHH

the softness in narinder after that kibd of realisation

"little lamb in grief" :(

adore it!

also merry christmas! hope you like this.

----

The firelit cult site was silent. Not a single star in the sky dared to look upon the scene before them. Roars and smashes came from inside the church, the followers unable to leave their shelters, as commanded by the lamb hours ago.

He had come from a crusade, carrying with him the material to create a statue of victory - all of the bishops had been slaughtered. However instead of a usual celebration, the lamb was eerily quiet, commanding everyone to a sleep through a ritual he promised was "for the best."

Narinder anxiously paced outside the church. The bleats from inside did not feel joyous as they usually were when the lamb happily cried to show him his latest accomplishment.

This was different. This was violent.

The cries were dark. Enraged, strong, broken.

The warm glow of red magic would flash and flicker through the double doors, causing Narinder to wince every time he turned.

He had not seen his siblings since he'd been chained and banished. Resentment was there, of course...but he had grown curious as to why they were not recruited like many other heretics the lamb had dealt with.

Narinder had nothing in his heart for them. Whether murdered or harvested, he could not care less, but alike a cat, he wondered and pried into whatever he could to discover the bishops' fate.

So here he was, listening to an outburst reminding him of the rage he had felt above after being outcast.

Narinder squeezed his eyes shut as the earth vibrated, taking a few steps closer to the door. He pressed his outstretched palm into the wood, followed by his forehead.

"Lamb." he called softly in a deep rumble.

The cries halted with heaving breaths. "What." came a low hiss from inside.

"Your temper is becoming foolish."

The doors flung open, jerking Narinder back onto the grass.

Before him, bathed in ruby light, was no lamb he had known before. Eyes red and weeping, fleece mangled with blood and rage, figure taller than his.

And behind him was a massacre.

Leshy, pinned behind camellia vine, coughed up the petals in a choked cry, whereas a dark puddle of water held Kallamar's unconscious figure. Heket, he recognised, her throat wounds stretched open to a new degree. Shamura was there too, their own web caught around their neck in what looked like an attempt at hanging.

All of them, seemingly alive, stared at Narinder with a horror and pleading gaze.

The lamb, eyes gleaming, calmed his breath. "What do you want." he demanded.

Narinder looked up at him through his brow. "You are angry." he said simply.

"He is no lamb I have known." Leshy spat, calling hoarsely.

"Because I am the only one who fought." The lamb replied, turning to him. He raised his hand, a flurry of black ichor following his palm. "And all of them will be set free when you are struck into the ground and mud from whence you ca-"

"Lamb." Narinder walked forward, ignoring Leshy's begging whimpers. "I understand." he said, eyebrows knitted in emotion foreign to him.

The lamb's gaze hardened, the ichor still swarming his arm. "You could not understand. You ordered this on me. Their souls went to you."

Narinder clenched his jaw, straining his eyes to avoid looking at the terrifyingly large amount of power inching toward him.

"Then why not kill him too." Shamura spat, coughing against the webbing. "You have had your fun with us. He was the one being fuelled by your cursed brethren."

The lamb flicked his hand, sending the ichor splattering onto Shamura, who hacked and coughed against it.

Leshy whimpered again, struggling against the vines of his own flower.

"I know why he won't kill him." came a shaking voice from Kallamar, shoving his head from the puddle he lay in. "We're immortal." he hissed. "Narinder can't die like the rest of the sheep you cared for."

Narinder's eyes flicked to the lamb's, heart sinking slowly. He touched his paw to the fleece, earning a flinch from the lamb.

"Lamb," he said again, looking into the furious red eyes, "A God can defeat everything but the past. No anger will win. Believe me, I know." he added, the bishops' eyes staring daggers to him.

"You are insane! He is no God, no lamb, that is a devil. A monster. A creature of the depths and darkne-" "HE IS A LAMB." Narinder bellowed, silencing Shamura and the others. The lamb turned to him, his eyes loosing their glow.

"He is a lamb. Like you are a spider, you a toad, you a worm and you a squid. He is not only a lamb, he is the lamb. The last." Narinder's eyes narrowed. "There is a knowing rage within oneself when your kind is erased. Why I am not punished, I do not know. But you have hurt him more than I."

Shamura growled against the webs, seething. "You are soft and weak. Predator turned prey."

The lamb stepped in front of Narinder. "Like I as prey turned predator." he whispered. "I have mercy for every follower I find, for they have never killed for evils. Righteousness some, defence some, but never evil, unlike you with my kind."

"Oh, but you are the embodiment of it, lamb. You are the evil. And we are the fear. They will soon be, too." They muttered, nodding to the church doors.

The lamb's breathing picked up once more.

Narinder clasped the lamb's hand in his own. "Leave. Leave and go to the pond, I will finish them."

The lamb's eyes softened. "For evil?" he asked, voice pained.

"No," Narinder looked deep into his eyes. "For justice. For you."

"Why?"

"I do not like to see you grieving." he whispered softly. "Whatever justice I may bring, I will try to. An apology for my own wrongdoing."

Shamura hissed, cursing at them to no avail. The lamb's body became engulfed in red magic, shrinking to his normal height, his eyes the same innocent black.

He clung to Narinder's robes, shaking.

"Do it." he begged, eyes shut.

[escapism-from-the-real-world]

The society within the hunger games has been analyzed and compared to our society many times

Let’s do another one

I think something that’s at the forefront of my mind, especially with the genocide going on in Palestine/Gaza/Congo/Sudan/heaven knows so many more places is how we so easily let murder and genocide slide

And I don’t mean we’re making bets and shouting for bloodshed like the capital did in the books (though, from what I’ve seen, the IDF, Israeli government, and many more are). We protest, we sign petitions, donate to the cause, call and email are representatives, but short of causing an actual uprising and stopping the whole genocide by baring teeth and dripping blood, I doubt we’ll stop them from proceeding with it.

Because the vote has been made, the lines have been drawn and the US government has made it clear that this is something they are willing to do.

Over

And over

And over again

In their own sick form of the hunger games

But instead of letting it be watched from our tv, where we can document and criticize their actions in 4K, where we can openly point in disgust, revolt in a publicly agreed opinion that this is wrong, instead if a slaughter where we can see just how human those people are, how many humans we really are killing

They hide behind walls and lies and manipulative words that guide your attention elsewhere. They murder and bomb and kill and destroy without a single bit of it entering your life in any way. Well, most of it anyway.

(Look up the massacres and genocides the US has been a part of, has funded. It’s there, they just don’t want you to find it.)

In the Hunger Games, everything is so obviously meticulously planned out and purposefully done so we, the audience, can see it, call out the injustice, gasp in horror as children are killed, as they kill each other, and we wonder how can they bot do something about this? Don’t they know it’s wrong? Inhumane? So past what you thought a human was capable of.

Little do we know it happens in real life too, it’s just a little more hidden, a little more tricky to line out, a little more innocent looking, but the intent is the same.

We live in a subtle, almost boring very of a dystopian society. The rich are richer than ever, the poor work long and hard for not even a fraction of the same riches. We notice, we grovel about it, we complain, but ultimately, what do you do? Vote in another bastard to replace the last? Protest against a law that has already been passed in the hearts of our government? Overthrow the government for another?

No, you have kids to feed, siblings to take care of, people and things to be selfish about.

People are slaughtered senselessly everyday and we don’t even know it or don’t even blink at it or maybe so stunned with the reality of the world you don’t know what to do or so filled with rage all you want to do is rebel

Kill a tyrant

What violent thoughts for a seventeen year old to have

But will you? Revolt and kick and scream? Set ablaze to the country you may call home? To deny all the falsehoods of strength and patriotism and freedom that hold our beliefs in this country and actually make a change?

We don’t have a Katniss to start our revolution. We don’t have a game to look down on for killing our kids. We don’t have an obvious target to kill for all our troubles.

We only have each other, sharing stories and advice and truth in our little corners of the internet. We only have wars and genocides that kill more than twenty four and have so many following the deaths of miners, poor families, and victims of circumstance alike. Buried. Starved. Shot without a second thought. We have tyrants upon tyrants, greater evil upon greater evil, fighting for the chance to be game maker this year while still following the same old tune.

That’s what they’re counting on, at least. For us ti be at each other’s throats, for us to wallow in despair, for us to be selfish and heartbroken but still apathetic enough not to care, not to do something about it.

I say it’s time we start our fucking rebellion and get someone to shoot all those fuckers with an arrow.

Because whether we like it or not, our Hunger Games have begun and everyone is on the chopping block.

It can’t just be some of us either, we see how it works out in the Hunger Games. It has to be all of us, together, standing up against these insane shows of disregard for human life. If we can get everyone on board, they couldn’t stop us if they tried.

I mean, that’s why they separated the districts in the first place, right? We have too much power together.

And together they will fall.

Free Palestine. Free Congo. Free Sudan. Free every single place they’ve turned into a district.