#unknown corruption complex

[hoyotunes]

Metal Chimera from Hyper Commission Mr.mo, Yang Wutao, Sān-Z, HOYO-MiX

[sincerelyrki]

you don’t look like an angel

being heavens highest angel, lee heeseung was completely and utterly fucked. he’d made the one mistake that could cost him both his wings and his immortality- he had summoned a demon into the most sacred paradise on earth. it was only his luck that it wasn’t just a regular impure demon; no, it was worse. he had summoned a succubus.

paring : virgin!angel!heeseung x succubus!fem!reader

warnings + genre : smut. slightly dubcon (heeseung didn’t know what was happening). corruption. religious guilt. begging. unsafe sex. marking. oral (m). riding. slight degradation. begging. profanity. blood. cumming untouched. demons hiss and purr.

wc : 5.9

a/n : idk what this is but i had to read the entire thing out loud to make sure it sounded right and i think it’s safe to say that this might be one of my favourite works i’ve ever written so far? something about heeseung and corruption…anyways, as always i’d love to hear everyone’s thoughts 🤞

written perm taglist : @vousty @ilololoveyou @moon0fthenight

Heeseung was just finishing his final prayer when it happened, his hands still pressed together at the base of his forehead. Earlier in the day he’d heard about a new prayer, one that was said to be extremely popular with the rising youth. 

It was spoken in another language, one far too complex for Heeseung to understand. But the words were simple, easy to pronounce and fairly similar to a chant he’d heard his mother pray with. 

Due to its simplicity, it allowed more room for error. One small mistake could change the outcome of any prayer spoken through an angel's lips. Their loving prayers were far more powerful than any other beings, their direct connection with the lord strengthening their pleas. 

With the ability to heal an unknown disease with a singular sentence, an angel's voice was the most sought-after remedy.

But as the old saying says, with great power comes great responsibility. 

With a voice as strong as theirs it was bound to be heard. Whether it was heard from the lord or other angels, someone was always listening. 

What Heeseung failed to realize was that the language of his new prayer was the language of the unknown. No living human understood the language, their own interpretations being nowhere near the direct translation.

But like all other sayings, their false words made their way through the clouds. The wind was listening, the echoes of their translations meeting the ears of a few young angels.

They weren’t of the right age to learn about the wind's voice yet, so they did what they thought they had to. They spread the word, the listening angels hearing their prayers. 

It was a cruel game of telephone, the words jumbling together until it was forced to make its own poem. Heeseung just happened to be at the receiving end of one of one.

For a room that was well above the atmosphere, it was oddly humid. The freshwater flowers that thrived in his usual cold room were now completely withered. Their once vibrant petals were now dyed a terrific red, the hue straining their pure white appearance.

Heeseung watched with the utmost confusion as they contorted within seconds, the vapour diffusing into a puddle of red acid that gathered alongside the vase, identical red streams dripping from each individual stamen.

His hand moved on its own, his fingers a hairstring away from the mysterious liquid before a loud voice echoed from the other side of the room. Heeseung’s main light went out, his bedside lamp coming to life on its own. 

“You shouldn’t touch that.” Heeseung jumped in place, his wings springing free from their confinement in his attempt to defend himself. 

He was light on his feet when he spun around, unfortunately for him- he saw nothing but darkness on the other side of his room. Your figure blending right into the background. 

He grew panicked when his hand was met with air when he reached back for his bow, the situation drawing down fast on him. Not only was he stuck in a room with a mysterious creature but he was left defenseless in said room with the mysterious creature.

What were the chances that you were another angel?

“Are you looking for this?” The angel's jaw fell in shock when his missing bow dropped by his feet, the riser snapped clean in half. His heart sank at the sight, pain creeping across his chest. 

His bow was crafted with the finest materials, the limbs harvested from their most sacred willow tree’s aged bark- embezzled with an intricate carving for each of his greatest accomplishments. 

In an instant Heeseung grew nervous, he knew he wasn’t in the presence of an angel. Each angel was sworn by an oath, and the roots of the tree webbed across their every bone, making it impossible for them to harm such a sacred weapon. 

His jaw remained open when you finally revealed yourself, you were the envisionment of sin.

Yep, you definitely aren’t an angel.

Your breasts were held up with the tiniest fabric he’d ever seen, nothing but two small triangles hanging from your shoulders that were attached with a thin knot. The article did nothing to hide your body, everything except for your nipples out for him to see. 

His cheeks grew inflamed by an invisible force pulling his eyes down to follow the curvature of your exposed waist.  A slightly larger triangle sat hugging your hips, the right side of your hips was exposed, the fabric cascading in a diagonal slit towards your left thigh. It took him several seconds after staring at your legs to realize what he was doing. He slapped his right hand over his eyes, lips opening to recite his prayers.

Heeseung felt ashamed of his reaction, as angels weren’t supposed to observe nudity in a sexual manner. He’d never viewed another person's body in the way he did yours and he’d spent many hours aiding the other angels bathe during their sicknesses- this was a whole new territory that he’d never dared to think about. 

You, of course, noticing his ashamed prayers couldn’t help but take offence. Why would he beg for forgiveness after he called out to you? It wasn’t god who he should be worshiping, it should be you. 

“You can’t help your reaction, my body is supposed to make you feel like that.” You humoured him anyways knowing that none of this ashamed shit that he was feeling would matter in an hour. 

Heeseung vigorously shook his head in denial, your words not helping his inner turmoil at all. You were wrong, you had to be. He was supposed to be an angel and angels don’t act upon sin. 

He’d spent his entire childhood learning about each sin, spending hours of his life drowning in the promise of devotion. 

He had been loyal since the day he was born, temptations weren’t even a thought in his head anymore. He was the living epitome of purity. How could he honour his mother if he gave into the word of the demon? 

Heeseung kept his eyes on you whilst he completed his prayers, his final words building a sanctuary around his untainted blood. The blood of a virgin. 

You started your advance with small steps towards him, your bare feet making no sound as you neared him. The closer you got the more potent the blood’s smell became, iron heavy in the air as your body heat drew closer. 

You stopped halfway across the room, your mouth was practically watering by the time you were able to make out the small pool of red, the pretty flowers only making it seem more appetizing. 

“Do angels ever crave blood the way we do?” You knew they didn’t, it was against their entire existence but some sick side of you wanted nothing more than to see the angel’s reaction to your question.

Pretty boys were your weakness and Heeseung was so fucking gorgeous. You grew jealous of your future self, loathing that she got to touch him- to fuck him the way you’re imagining it right now. You couldn’t wait to watch him shake beneath you, begging to whoever was listening for you to stop. 

Heeseung’s mouth dropped in horror, you craved blood? He looked at you like you were insane for your completely valid needs like he couldn’t fathom craving something so inhumane. He wasn’t completely sure if you meant human or animal blood but after seeing the way you looked at him he’d say had a pretty lucky guess. 

“Because I've never craved it more.” Chills went down Heeseung’s spine while he tried reading through your words, were you a vampire who smelled him from Earth? He knew angels smelt the best to them. 

His questions answered themselves through the sudden wave of iron clashing with his sensitive nose. He looked over his shoulder towards the flowers that were now completely drenched. 

“Whose blood is this?” He was barely finding his voice before he forcefully stuttered his final question, his throat burning with a newfound emotion.

Your head cocked to the side while your lips pulled up into a side smirk, your pink tongue quickly coming out to wet them. It was almost an endearing sight, almost. 

Heeseung stumbled back with a small shriek when you suddenly appeared right in front of him, your chest pressing flesh against his for a few seconds too long. 

He watched the way you kept your eyes on him whilst reaching one of your fingers out towards the pool of blood, a gasp crawling up his throat when you brought your fingers to your lips.

You made a show of sticking your tongue out, trailing your finger from the bottom up before you stuck in between your lips. 

You let out a small hum of approval, the sweet taste of his blood tasting better than any you’ve tried before. You finally understood what your friends meant when they swore that a virgin’s blood tasted the best, however, they never got the pleasure of tasting it from an angel. 

“It’s your blood, who else’s would it be?” You watched in amusement as the angel’s face blanched, his wings twitching behind his back as he attempted to curl into himself. ‘Cute’, you hummed to yourself as you mentally took a shot at this moment. If there was one rule about angles that every species seemed to agree on was that angels have always been beautiful. But there was something about this specific one that felt so different. It could’ve been the fact that he was untouched, or it could’ve been the way his fear shone so obviously in his eyes that turned you on so fucking much. 

Typically angels smelled of a plethora of flowers, gardens growing from their untainted hands. Usually, the scent bothered you, your body being much more used to the fruit-like and sensual scents that the demons claimed as their own. 

Many angels assumed that demons would smell of burnt flesh and plied wood and sometimes they definitely weren’t wrong. But most smelled like you- after all, you needed to smell as good as you looked. No one wants to fuck someone who smells bad, even demons had class. 

“What are you?” Heeseung questioned, his wings still pulled behind his back. Even though he knew you weren’t an angel, he still had his doubts. Demon wasn't even a word in his vocabulary, it was one of the few words that were forbidden to be spoken in heaven. Sure, you had wings and the same flawless skin he sported but your wings… they couldn’t be any more different. 

Your wings were almost double his size and they appeared much more feathered, looking as if they’d been plucked from the most gracious birds and dipped into the darkest ink, black and red sunsets carving up each intricate row of feathers. 

He just never expected you to become his beautiful devastation. 

You ignored his question and continued observing the way his body reacted to you. His smell quickly became addictive, your adulterated temperament wearing thin the longer he lingered in your senses. 

“What do you want me to be?” You purred out in your most seductive tone. While waiting for his response you took it upon yourself to move closer to him, your steps much less hesitant than earlier. 

There was no denying that the man before you was truly captivating but there was something else that caught your attention much faster. His pearlescent wings were practically glowing in the dark, a layer of pale blue surrounding the smoothed edges. Which, after thinking about it for a few seconds didn’t make very much sense to you since the angels tended to constantly stay in the light. 

“An angel?” You made a sound of disgust at his disrespectful words, you? An angel? Honestly, you’d rather be a troll which says a lot considering their reputation. 

“I’ll be your angel if it helps?” Heeseung tried hiding his very evident fluster by attempting to turn away from your vision but when he tried to move, he couldn’t. 

You giggled out loud watching the panic spread throughout his face, your mind fogging with all the ways you could use him whilst he’s in this state. There was something so satisfying about having complete control over another person's body, whether it’s through your mind or actions. 

“Aw, what happened?” You cooed, acting dumb has always been one of your strong forts. It came in useful at times like this, the ability to feign innocence with a singular pout. 

Heeseung, unfortunately for him, fell right into your trap. He was naive enough to believe that you had nothing to do with his state, which is way beyond you. It would���ve been obvious to anyone else that you were controlling him but perhaps angels thought differently.

“I can’t move.” Heeseung nearly screamed when your hand pressed on the spot where his heart lay beneath his chest, his heart thundering louder than before. It was only racing because he was scared, there’s no way your touch was affecting him. Angels don't feel lust. 

Lust. The definition is described as a “disordered desire for inordinate enjoyment of pleasure.” Heeseung lived by the word of the lord. He’d spent his entire life bending backwards to live by the commandments that were shoved down his throat, his lungs choking against the words bubbling to come out. 

It wasn’t hard to drown into the mold that’s been made to best fit him but it was nearly impossible to escape. He thought he was fine in this confined space, lonely sure, but free of sin. He was accepted by the lord and that’s all that he’s ever wanted.

But he was made for sin because he was made for you. 

“Then I guess I'll have to take care of you. I can’t leave you here all alone, not when you’re this vulnerable.” Poison disguised as worry spilled from your lips and slipped through Heeseung’s mind. 

Your words drew more than reassurance through Heeseung, it drew guilt. Guilt for doubting your intentions, for believing that you could’ve been here to harm him. He felt so wronged for you, you must’ve been so angry at him. But still, you offered your help. Maybe he’d slip you into his nightly prayers, thanking the lord for gracing him with your presence. 

All the thoughts frozen when your hand touched the edge of his wing, his body electrified with a foreign feeling. No one else has ever touched his wings before, it was an action that was far too intimate to allow anyone else to try. 

He knew his wings were sensitive but he never knew they were this bad. His wing twitched under your touch, pushing itself closer to your hand. 

You watched in amazement as his wings awoke from their state, your touch bringing them to life. You never controlled his wings, the action far too cruel for even a demon to pull. 

You tested the touch again, pressing your palm flat against the parts that were attached to his spine. They fluttered again, a brighter light emitting from the edges, oh. His wings don’t always glow, they won’t glow when they’re being stimulated.

Your wing's nerves were linked to the ones that spread across your pelvis and down. You’d witnessed many demons talking about using it as a pleasurable advantage. Succubus was seen as a sex symbol, so obviously their experience matched the description. 

But you’d never gotten the chance to test the theory for yourself. Now that you have you weren’t sure if you’ll ever be able to stop. 

Without Heeseung’s knowledge, his cock jumped with each touch. It wasn’t that he was aroused, just overstimulated. He loud out a quiet whine, one that stopped as soon as it came. To you, he was so fucking pathetic. Whining after getting touched twice? But just as pathetic as he was, he was hypnotic. 

“Sh, I’m helping you in the best way I know.” You shushed his whines before you moved to stand in front of him, pressing your chest against his. Heeseung wasn’t sure what you were doing when you did that but then something surprising happened.

Your chest began letting out these small vibrations. Your eyes stared up into his whole you enhanced the force, your purrs reaching your throat. 

He was so pretty standing all pliant, unmoving as you controlled his body. The purrs came out of nowhere, the sudden affection catching you off guard. But you soon appreciated it, Heeseung deserved only the best.

It was at this moment that you decided that you wanted to keep him. There was no way in heaven or hell that you’d let anyone take him away from you, you’d let the world burn before a singular finger touched his- your- skin. From this second on he belonged to you, wholly and completely. 

You’d mark him after mating, your gums were already aching at the thought. As a demon, you could mate however many times you wanted. But you could only have one mate, your bite would solidify the union. 

But for now, you just returned your hands back to his wings. And as expected, he choked out another whimper, his mouth gaping open at the liquid heat gathering in his stomach. 

“Do you like it when I touch you like this?” Heeseung, thinking he was still sin-free, nodded his head. He adored it. 

You let out a cat-ish grin, your pointed canines poking from beneath your top lip. Heeseung knew of only two species who had pointed canines but only one had retractable ones. 

You were a demon. 

It didn’t scare him as much as he thought it would, but that doesn’t mean that he won’t say an extra prayer in the morning. 

And like always, you could tell that he had found out. “I’m a succubus, you summoned me.” Through Heeseung’s cloud of pleasure, he couldn’t make himself question you. Yeah sure, he totally summoned you. He’d believe anything you said as long as you keep making him feel like this.

His head flew back when your hand touched a specific spot on his wings, the only bare spot.

For both angels and demons alike there was a singular spot on the top corner of the right wing. It was bare of any feather, it was strictly skin. There was a small string of skin that held the strongest nerve in your entire body. 

The nerve was used for connections, it was what allowed them to converse with the wind. But it wasn’t until now that you both learned that it was much more because the second you touched it, you felt him.

You felt his every emotion, the warmth in his stomach, and the pounding of your cunt. 

It all happened too fast, gone before you could relish in it. But if you allowed it for now, there would be many other opportunities for you to test out the connection. 

After all, Heeseung would become yours for eternity. 

Your mouth widened in amazement as Heeseung came untouched, his mouth opening with zero sound coming out. You weren’t even sure if he knew what was happening, it made it all more enjoyable for you. 

“You came untouched?” It was a rhetorical question but still, Heeseung had no idea what you were talking about. All he knew was that there was a euphoric feeling rushing throughout his body, he’d never felt more alive than at this moment. 

All he wanted was to feel it again and again, uncaring about what you tabled it as. He didn’t know he could feel this good without sinning, he honestly couldn’t wait to tell his friends.

If only you could hear his thoughts, you’d bathe in them forever. It was cute how Heeseung thought that he was still sin-free, not knowing that he’d committed one of the worst ones yet.

The feeling faded away after a few more seconds, his mind clearing as his consciousness rushed back. He was now much more aware than before and finally noticed a new detail.

You noticed the way he was trying to look down and decided to be a bit kinder, allowing his head to move on its own. Heeseung didn’t seem to notice that he now had full control of his neck, all he saw was the giant wet patch on his bottoms. 

It was also now when he noticed he was crying, his tears making smaller marks around his wetness. 

“What is-“ He was cut off by your hand grabbing his chin, pulling his confused eyes away from his soiled pants. 

“I’ll make you a deal, hm?” Heeseung nodded through his crocodile tears, his puffy cheeks stained with his fallen tears. You gave Heeseung a small smile, making a point to soften your eyes to appear more trusting. 

“I’ll help you out if you promise to… I can’t say it, I know you’ll say no.” You knew how to play your cards with a man who was desperate enough to do anything. 

“Please, I’ll do anything!” Heeseung didn’t know a thing about being manipulated. It was a concept that didn’t exist in his world. Or maybe it did but was disguised as something much less sinister. 

“Do you promise?” A hiss. All it took for Heeseung to doubt himself once again was the small hiss that made its way through your throat. It sounded far less human than he was comfortable with, but he trusted you, did he not? 

The lord swore forgiveness to everyone who’s wronged him, why wouldn’t Heeseung do the same? 

“Anything, please I promise! J- just help me.” An angel's promise. It was the only thing you needed to know that you finally had him. 

The only other thing that every species knew about angels, was that they could never break a promise. It was the greatest sin of all, a betrayal that wasn’t worth forgiving. No one, not even the lord, forgave promises. It was the highest honour an angel could give, their promise. 

Heeseung knew that he couldn’t go back and undo what had been done, to take back the words that were spoken in a sense of urgency. And he didn’t really know if he wanted to, not when he was finally able to move his arms.

“Sit on the bed.” Heeseung’s legs moved under your command, the promise allowing you to control his every move. What he didn’t know was that you didn’t need his word to control him, it was part of your demon abilities. 

He had no choice but to comply with what you said, he wasn’t labelled heaven's highest angel for no reason. 

You weren’t completely sure where to start because usually you just did whatever you wanted, uncaring about the other person. All the other people who’d summoned you had already been asleep when you arrived and stayed asleep the entire time. Their mortal minds were far too weak to handle the pheromones releasing from your body, even the other supernatural species couldn’t handle it. 

“Mate me.” It was easier to get straight to the point, there was no need for any foreplay at this stage. The connection that you’d made with him was enough to prepare you for him, it was in your dna. 

Heeseung on the other hand, didn’t take it as well. He denied it right away, his head practically exploding at your words. Mate you? The lord would never forgive him, he’d be breaking his promise to him. 

Promise after promise, it was all Heeseung was good for. He’d promised his life away, his celibacy. He’d be banned from heaven, shunned of his wings. He’s already made the grave mistake of bringing you here, but this? This would cost him everything, his entire life. 

But still, you made him feel alive. You made him realize that he’d never felt anything before- not even joy. He’d been a cast of a person who he was forced to be, who even was he anyway?

A follower. And that’s all he’ll ever be for the rest of his life. He’s never hated anymore more than how much he hates you for making him come to terms with his life. 

It was his prayers that did this, why would the lord give you him if it wasn’t supposed to happen? You were supposed to be here, the lord approved of you. Why else would you come? It had to be what was happening, Heeseung was finally allowed a pass to be the person he’d locked away many lifetimes ago. 

But it stung, deep. His guilt came out in a wail of tears, angry fists banging against the bed beside him. His tormented thoughts roared with life, he was finally letting go. 

Fuck the commandments, fuck his promises, and he only hoped the lord would let him fuck you. 

And so with a wave of fresh tears and forgotten fears, he did what you said. He stood from his spot, your mind open and free of the handles you had strapped to his wrists. 

He’d pulled his pants down in one yank, his underwear pulling down with them. He wasn’t sure what he was doing, but he was alive. alive. Lee Heeseung was finally alive. 

The air smelt different, curtsey to your pheromones. Your hands felt rougher when they met his now bare chest, the bed feeling softer as his wings cushioned his fall. 

His head was clear when he felt your hand grab his cock, his heart void of guilt when he felt your mouth wrap around him.

But as the circle goes, it comes back around. 

Knowing that other men enjoyed thinking that they’re too big for you, you fake choked on him. Your eyes filled with fake tears as you pretended to gasp for air. Your chest heaved at an uncontrollable speed, fingers numbing at the thought of making him feel good.

Sex came naturally to Heeseung, which was something the two of you didn’t expect. His hands pulled your head back toward where he needed you the most, his thumb pulling your lips apart before he pushed you down to suction around him.

“God- you feel so fucking good.” He doesn’t even recognize himself anymore, his mind too full with the feeling of you to realize that he’d spoken the lord's name in vain. 

He wasn’t just betraying himself, he was giving up heaven. He'd give it away a million times more if it meant that he’d spent his life with you. Your name was the only one rushing from his mouth, the only one getting worshiped as your tongue wrapped around his bulbous tip. 

You used your tongue to trace circles around the small slit at the top of his cock, collecting everything he was giving to you. He tasted so sweet, nothing like anything you’ve tasted before. 

He didn’t warn you before filling your mouth, his amateur thrusts being overshadowed by your much more experienced lick.

You’d pulled away from him after holding him in your mouth, waiting to feel him soften before pulling him off. Heeseung’s head tilted to the side in confusion when you opened your mouth, sticking out your tongue. 

He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to be seeing- oh…

You felt a surge of confidence rushes through your body at the feeling of him hardening against your hands. “Already? you’re so needy.” 

You rose to a stand, grabbing his hands to pull him to stand instead. All it took was a snap of fingers for your clothes to be gone, leaving you completely nude. 

Heeseung felt like every moment of his life had led up to this, you were his final destination. Without him noticing, he whispered one final prayer. Right when he went to recite the trinitarian formula, he noticed.  

Guilt was unforgiving but so was hesitation. He hesitated to give in earlier, but now? 

“Are you ready?” Heeseung didn’t recognize his voice anymore, a much deeper one coming out. His hands moved on their own when he pulled your legs around his waist, pushing his hips forward until his cock pressed against your lips. 

You nodded once, pushing your legs further apart as you waited for him to make the move. He looked down at you cunt in appreciation, the lord really did take his time creating you. It’s too bad that his favourite creation was going to ruin it.

Heeseung wrapped his hand around his base before giving an experimental squeeze. Heeseung had never touched himself before today, having no idea what was supposed to feel good. 

He ignored his embarrassing inexperience and used his other hand to open you up for him. His mouth watered at the sight of your bare in front of him, you looked so welcoming. 

He tried not to stare for too long because he knew that if he did he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from using his mouth first. But he’d much rather finish it all off by licking you clean, drinking everything you have to offer. 

He tapped the head of his cock against you, watching from under his eyebrows at how you reacted. From the way your hips pushed up, he knew exactly where to touch you. 

He kept his head pressed against you as he pushed down, stopping once he reached your entrance. This was the moment that would change his entire life, he was never going to be the same way he was before. 

And when he finally pushed in, his head fell forward with a loud moan. The blood of the virgin became the blood of the demon, he was no longer considered an angel in the lord's eyes. 

Your hands grabbed his biceps as he pushed in deep, his cock hitting places you’ve never felt before.  He sped up, his hips slamming against yours over and over as he grew into a routine. 

You obviously liked the way he was moving if your moans meant anything. 

“Bring me to heaven.” You managed to plead through your now real choked gasps. Your head was filled with explosions of colours, real pleasure rushing through your blood. His big cock felt too good pushing against your gummy walls, each curve of him fitting perfectly in your crevices. He was made for you. 

Heeseung sucked in a harsh breath, a teasing smile growing on his opened mouth. His eyes were now open, staring into your own as he ravished your body for what it was. 

“But you’re a demon, and we’re already here…” He let out a small grunt at his harder thrust, his eyes closing once again. He’d lost count of the number of times he’d reached this specific spot in your body, but he was certain that once he found it again he wouldn’t let it go. 

“Not that heaven-” your smile matched his as your body burned with the same flame, your impurities mixing with his. You shakily raised one of your hands up towards his face, your fingers wrapped around his jaw as you forced his face close to yours. 

His eyes opened once again, his irises now completely black as he let himself fall into the pit of pleasure. “Your heaven” Your back arched with a moan while your legs tightened around his waist.

Heeseung swore he was in love. With you, and the feeling of you. Nothing could turn him back now. He pulled your legs over his shoulder, his chest pushing away from yours as he pushed all his weight into his legs and hips. 

He pressed kiss after kiss against your ankles, biting down to create indents across your calves. He knew this angle hit deeper into you because finally, he felt that spot and and over.

Both your volumes rose into near screams when you both reached your peaks. Without thinking twice Heeseunf pressed your knees flat to your chest, his neck stretching out to bite against yours. 

Your blood filled his mouth 

Angels too sealed the mating process with a bite, but it was different. The magic was stored in each individual tooth. The pockets of their poison were located in their mamelons. And so when the angel bites into their mate, the pockets open into small needles. Three sharp needles accompanied each tooth, it was the only part of the tooth that got pushed through the skin. 

Heeseung wasn’t lying when he mentioned not craving blood, but now? His arms shook when had to pull himself away from you, the desire to drink from his new mate stronger than anything. “Thank god-“ He didn’t know what he was thanking anyone for, but he needed something to fall back on. It just happened to be the roots that caught him. 

Your broken moans were drowned out by your returning purrs, your eyes white as they rolled into the back of your head. Holy fucking shit, Heeseung marked you first?

Without allowing Heeseung to pull out you flipped him over, his back flat against the bed while you sat flush against him. He looked up through tired eyes, his mind coming back to normal as he softened inside of you. 

“Don’t thank god, he had nothing to do with this.” You growled at the angel before you released more pheromones. They seemed to do their job as he was hard again within seconds. 

You felt him throb inside of you before you rose the tiniest bit, dropping down right away.  Heeseung’s hands gripped your ass, helping your waist move forward and back with each raise and fall. 

His hips buckled to meet yours, loud slaps echoing across the room as you sunk into him over and over. Heeseung forced his head up enough to look at where the two of you were connected and god, the sight didn’t fail. 

There was a thick ring of cum formed around his base, sticky strings connecting the two of you with every new raise. He’d almost come on the spot once again, his body way more sensitive than yours due to his inexperience. 

You saw the way his face scrunched up and automatically knew that he was trying not to cum. You used your mental hold on him to remove his hands from you and pinned them by his head. 

His eyes were wide when they met yours again. He felt his heart stutter at the glare on your face. Has he done something wrong? Is he not pleasing you correctly? 

“Don’t keep anything away from me, give it all to me.” Your hips momentarily stopped, only his tip remaining in as you stared down at him. 

“Breed me.” Your quiet whisper caused an eruption of pleasure to burst through his chest. He had you lying back on your back in seconds, his instincts putting you into the mating press. 

“Don’t start what you can’t end.” He didn’t say more before he pushed into you once again. He leaned his head down to meet yours, his lips pulling your bottom one between his teeth.

He gently tugged at it once before he forced his tongue between your lips, your mouth tasting of his earlier release. “You don’t look like an angel,” He ignored the harsh look you threw at him, giving you a small smile before he pressed his lips against your pulse point. 

He breathed in a deep inhale, his body welcoming your new scent, one that was mixed with his. He bit the skin twice, the second much harder than the first before he soothed the wound with his tongue. 

He trailed small kisses up your neck, all the day until he reached your ear. He pulled your earlobe between his teeth before placing a gentle kiss against it. “But you definitely taste like one.”

[claramelooo]

CRIMSON REVERIE

Hey, favorites readers! How was the New Year's party, huh? I hope everyone is well and has fully recovered from hangover!!!

Thank you very much for all support and love you give me, that's what encourages me to write to you. I celebrate your lives! and I wish you a great 2025 full of achievements and growth!

Are you ready to see the big bad Scarlet Witch fucking everyone and everything? Feel free to feel horny!

Enjoy it!

Pairing: Dark!Witch Wanda X Fem Reader

MINORS DO NOT MUST INTERACT

WARNINGS: Threats and fights

Summary: After fighting with her former allies and friends, Wanda enters a new universe and makes a discovery that awakens something unknown in her.

Read here: Prologue

ENVY

The sky over Kamar-Taj was dyed red, as if reality itself were bleeding. Wild winds howled through the mountains, carried by the chaotic energy emanating from the floating figure at the center of the courtyard.

Wanda Maximoff.

The Scarlet Witch.

Her eyes burned red as she extended her hands, tracing complex runes in the air. Every motion pulsed with chaotic power, shaping the veil of the multiverse to open a portal. The air trembled around her, and even the most experienced sorcerers of Kamar-Taj stepped back, their spells powerless against her.

Her eyes glowed fiercely, a deep red pulsing like an enraged heartbeat. The runes she carved into the air were intricate, vibrant, and the very ground quaked under the force of her magic. The protective spells of Kamar-Taj unraveled like paper set aflame by an unstoppable force.

Stephen Strange hovered a few meters away, the Cloak of Levitation billowing in the wind. He faced Wanda with a mixture of determination and apprehension, the glowing circles of his magic mirroring the chaos around them. Wong stood beside him, resolute, while America Chavez lingered further back, fists clenched, tension visible in her stance.

“Wanda, this has to stop now!” Strange commanded, his voice cutting through the turmoil like a blade.

Wanda raised her gaze, a cold smile curling her lips. “Stop?” Her voice was soft, almost gentle, but carried an implicit threat. “You don’t understand, Stephen. You can’t understand. I’ve lost everything. You still have your world, your principles... and your arrogance.”

“You’re destroying everything around you!” Strange shot back, forming glowing orange circles with his hands. “The Darkhold has already corrupted a part of you. Don’t let it take the rest!”

She laughed—not with amusement, but with disdain. “Corrupt me? Stephen, I’m beyond corruption. You want to talk about loss? About sacrifice? Don’t insult me by pretending you understand.”

“I understand more than you think,” Stephen retorted, his expression hardening. “But what you’re doing here? This isn’t grief, Wanda. It’s destruction. And it won’t bring anything back.”

Wanda’s laugh echoed through the courtyard, cold and hollow, like the sound of shattering glass. “What do you know about grief, Strange? About love? Do you think pain broke me? No. Pain shaped me. And I’ll use it to fix what was stolen from me.”

“Fix?” Stephen narrowed his eyes. “You’re about to destroy countless lives. You’ve seen what the Darkhold has done to you, Wanda. You’re not fighting for love—you’re being consumed by chaos.”

Wanda’s eyes narrowed, her rage burning brighter. “I don’t need moral lectures from a man who treats the fabric of reality like his personal toy.”

Before Stephen could react, Wanda unleashed a wave of energy that hit him like a hurricane, throwing him backward. Wong and America rushed to help him, but before they could intervene, a blue flash lit up the sky.

“Wanda!” Carol Danvers’ commanding voice echoed as she descended from the heavens, her body encased in cosmic energy. Beside her, Sam Wilson, Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton, and Bruce Banner advanced—a united force against the Scarlet Witch.

Carol hovered in front of Wanda, her eyes glowing. “Enough. We’re not letting you go any further.”

Wanda floated above the ground like a goddess on a celestial throne, a shroud of scarlet energy enveloping her with unsettling majesty. Her predatory smile was a clear warning that she saw the heroes before her not as threats, but as obstacles to be eliminated.

“Danvers,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm and disdain. “Am I supposed to feel intimidated? Or should I thank you for bringing such a sizable audience to witness my ascension?”

Carol’s eyes narrowed, standing firm despite the crushing weight of Wanda’s energy. “This isn’t ascension. It’s destruction. And you know it.”

Wanda tilted her head, as if assessing a disobedient child. “Destruction for you, perhaps. But for me? For them? It’s justice. I told you, Carol—you barely comprehend what I’m doing.”

Natasha stepped forward, weapons at the ready but not yet firing. “Wanda, this won’t bring you peace. You’re crossing a line you can’t come back from.”

Wanda chuckled, the sound as cold as breaking glass. “Peace? Natasha, peace is a luxury for those who have everything. When you lose even hope, what remains is power. And power doesn’t demand peace—it demands purpose.”

Sam raised his shield, his voice steady. “We’re not letting you do this, Wanda. No matter how right you think you are, this isn’t how you fix the past.”

Wanda descended gracefully, every step radiating absolute control. “Fix?” She smirked, the red glow in her eyes intensifying. “You think this is about fixing the past? No, Sam. This is about shaping the future. My future.”

Raising her hands slowly, like conducting an unseen symphony, Wanda made the air around her vibrate with scarlet energy, rippling like a storm ready to erupt. “You insist on standing in my way as if you could stop me.”

Carol’s hands ignited with cosmic energy. “We can try.”

Wanda arched a brow, her smile growing more arrogant. “Oh, dear…” With a step forward, the ground cracked beneath her feet as her magic pulsed in crushing waves. “You’re here because I allow it. All of you are alive because I haven’t bothered to decide otherwise.”

Bruce stepped forward, partially transformed into the Hulk. “You’re underestimating us.”

Wanda sighed dramatically, as if bored. “Underestimating? No. I simply recognize that the power you all possess together isn’t even a fraction of what I hold alone. I think you should too.”

With a sharp motion, Wanda unleashed a wave of energy, scattering everyone like leaves in a hurricane. As they struggled to rise, she walked slowly toward Carol, her eyes locked on Captain Marvel’s.

“You’re good,” Wanda said, her voice low and menacing. “But to me, you’re nothing more than dust in the wind.”

The first strike was devastating. Carol hit Wanda with a burst of energy, but the Scarlet Witch countered with a magical shield that shattered into glowing red shards.

Sam and Hulk charged in, trying to flank her. Wanda responded with icy precision, creating illusions to disorient Sam while ensnaring Hulk in magical chains that tightened like steel.

“You’re wasting your time!” Wanda shouted, her voice echoing through the courtyard. “I didn’t come to play. I came to win.”

Stephen re-entered the fray, casting intricate spells that wove together like nets aimed at Wanda. She dodged with fluid movements, each gesture a testament to her mastery.

“You’ll never get what you want, Wanda!” Stephen yelled.

She stopped, her eyes blazing. “And who’s going to stop me? You?”

As the Avengers and Stephen struggled to hold her off, Wanda finally gathered enough energy to activate the spell. A massive circle of glowing runes appeared in the sky, spinning slowly as the veil of the multiverse began to tear.

America Chavez’s eyes widened, sensing the shift in reality. “This is bad!”

“No… this is perfect,” Wanda replied, before releasing a wave of energy that threw everyone back, erecting a magical barrier around her.

Stephen yelled, fighting to break through the barrier. “If you step through that portal, Wanda, there’s no coming back!”

She looked at him one last time, determination burning in her eyes. “I don’t need to come back, Strange. I need to go where they are.”

With a final motion, the portal fully opened, its distorted light flooding the courtyard. Wanda stepped forward, her silhouette dissolving into the glow as the barrier collapsed.

“WANDA!” Stephen shouted, but it was too late.

She disappeared into the portal.

[...]

Wanda emerged from the portal in silence, her feet touching the soft ground of a peaceful landscape. The sound of children's laughter caught her attention immediately, like a beacon amid the chaos that always surrounded her. Tommy and Billy.

She followed the sound with hesitant steps, almost afraid of what she might find. But when she saw her sons running through the garden of a simple house, playing among the flowers and laughter, her heart nearly stopped. They were there. Real. Alive.

Without thinking, Wanda began walking toward them, tears streaming freely down her face. "Tommy... Billy..." she whispered, her voice breaking. Her desire to hold them, to feel their arms around her, was so strong she almost forgot everything around her.

But then, she stopped.

You were there.

You were crouched on the lawn, laughing as Billy tried to reach you with a flower he had picked. Your smile was wide, warm, and Wanda felt her chest tighten at the way Tommy held your hand as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Who is she? The question exploded in Wanda's mind. A sudden rage coursed through her, burning like fire in her veins. You looked so... comfortable, so at ease. As if you were their mother. As if they were your children.

For a moment, Wanda took a step forward, her fists clenched as faint red energy began to pulse around her. But then, something unexpected happened. Her eyes fell on your belly.

Round. Full of life. You were pregnant.

Wanda froze, unable to look away. Her breath caught in her throat. Pregnant? By whom? How? It was such an unexpected sight that her rage momentarily dissolved, replaced by overwhelming curiosity.

And then, Wanda saw something that made the world around her come to a halt.

The door of the house opened, and she stepped out.

It was like looking into a mirror, but the reflection seemed... wrong. Or perhaps too right. This Wanda was different. Her posture was relaxed, her face glowing with a serenity the Scarlet Witch hadn’t felt in a long time. There were no Darkhold markings on her fingers, no shadows of loss in her eyes.

She seemed whole.

The Scarlet Witch felt a pang of envy so strong it nearly made her stagger. This was the life she should have had. But the next scene left her even more confused.

The other Wanda walked straight to you, a wide smile on her lips. You stood, laughing at something Tommy had said, and immediately leaned in to kiss her.

The kiss was deep, passionate, yet filled with tenderness. The other Wanda's hands held your face with a familiarity that made the Scarlet Witch’s heart race uncontrollably.

She, herself, was with you.

Wanda’s eyes widened, and for a moment, she forgot everything—even the boys. She had never imagined herself with a woman. There had always been Vision, his love like a rock for her. But he wasn’t here. You were.

And what was even more disturbing was the way it made her feel.

She tried to understand what was happening. Why was her heart racing? Why couldn’t she take her eyes off you? The way you smiled at the other Wanda, how your hands slid so naturally around her waist, how your belly pressed against the other Wanda’s body... It was all so intimate, so warm.

And then came the desire.

It was sudden, unexpected, and it struck Wanda like a storm. She had never looked at another woman like this before, but there was something about you—your presence, your confidence, the way you seemed to carry the world yet still be so full of light—that unsettled her.

The kiss ended, but you didn’t fully pull away. Your hand moved to the back of the other Wanda’s neck, gently stroking it as you murmured something Wanda couldn’t hear. But the other Wanda’s smile, the way she leaned in to rest her forehead against yours, said it all.

You were in love.

And it left Wanda with even more questions. Where was Vision? How had you come into her life? And, most importantly, why did the Scarlet Witch want this as much as she wanted the boys?

As the scene played out before her, Wanda couldn’t decide what was stronger: the envy or the desire.

Maybe it was both.

The afternoon was serene, with the sound of leaves rustling in the breeze blending with the laughter of Tommy and Billy. The other Wanda sat on the grass with you while the boys ran around, tossing a ball back and forth. Your visibly large belly rested partially on the other Wanda’s lap, as she absentmindedly caressed it.

The Scarlet Witch, hidden behind a nearby tree, watched with clenched fists, struggling to process the scene. She couldn’t tear her eyes away.

“Hey, Mamma, what does Seline mean?” Billy suddenly asked, stopping his game to sit beside you. He looked genuinely curious, gazing at your belly as if he could see his sister through it.

The other Wanda smiled, pulling Tommy and Billy closer before answering. “Seline means ‘magical moon,’” she explained, her voice soft and full of affection. “When you two were babies, I used to say you were like the sun and the stars of my life. But when I thought of her... I wanted something calm and protective. Something that lights up the night.”

“So she’s like... our guardian?” Tommy asked, his eyes sparkling with the thought.

“Exactly,” you replied, laughing as you ruffled his hair. “Seline will be the little sister who’s always there for you, just as you’ll be there for her. You’ll be the most amazing brothers in the world.”

Wanda, still hidden, felt a pang in her chest. They even had a special meaning for her name. The way that Wanda spoke—so light, so natural—made it seem like nothing in the world could disrupt them. She had never thought of something so poetic, so thoughtful.

As she watched, jealousy burned hotter inside her, suffocating and unrelenting. Why were they so happy? Why was this version of herself so complete, so loved?

“She’ll like us, right?” Billy asked, tilting his head toward you, uncertainty shining in his eyes.

“She already loves you,” you answered, chuckling softly. “Every time she kicks, it’s like she’s saying, ‘I can’t wait to meet my brothers!’”

“And she kicks a lot,” the other Wanda added, smiling as she ran her hand over the side of your belly. “Especially when you sing to her.”

“That’s because I’m a good singer,” Billy declared with a tone of confidence that made everyone laugh.

“You’re a good singer... sometimes,” Tommy countered, laughing as he gave his brother a playful shove.

“Hey, no fighting,” the other Wanda said, her voice firm yet tender. She glanced at you, her tone softening. “Seline is lucky to have these two, don’t you think?”

You nodded, placing your hand over hers. “She’s lucky to have you.”

Wanda, hidden away, felt the breath leave her lungs. Watching you say that to herself in another universe made her stomach twist.

The other Wanda leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. You closed your eyes, smiling, and whispered something Wanda couldn’t hear. But the effect was devastating: the other Wanda laughed, a sound so full of joy it seemed to make the world glow around her.

The Scarlet Witch clenched her fists until her nails dug into her palms. She had never felt like this before. It wasn’t just jealousy. It was something deeper. It was the crushing realization that she was out of place, watching something that should have been hers.

Tommy and Billy are hers. Seline is hers. You are hers!

“And when Seline is born, will we be able to play with her?” Tommy asked, breaking the moment.

“Not right away,” you replied with a smile. “She’ll be small and fragile at first. But soon, she’ll grow, and she’ll love playing with you. Just promise me one thing.”

“Anything,” Billy said seriously.

“Promise me you’ll always protect her.”

The two boys nodded immediately, their faces full of determination. “We promise,” they said in unison.

The other Wanda smiled, looking at you with eyes filled with something the Scarlet Witch recognized instantly: love. “And I’ll protect all of you,” she said softly.

“Like a superhero?” Tommy asked, laughing.

“Something like that,” the other Wanda replied, winking at him.

As the family laughed and talked, Wanda remained in the shadows, frozen. Every word, every gesture, every smile was like a blade cutting deep. They were perfect together.

And you...

You were everything she never realized she needed.

Your belly, full of life; your laughter, so full of light; the way your eyes sparkled when you looked at the other Wanda. Everything about you pulled her in, drew her closer, even as it tore her apart.

You should be with her. You should be hers.

[...]

The night was silent, but not for Wanda. She walked through the dark hallway of the house, guided by a deep and painful instinct. She stopped in front of the boys' room and, with a gentle gesture, opened the door just enough to peek inside.

There they were, Tommy and Billy, sleeping deeply, their serene faces illuminated only by the soft light of the lamp. They looked so at peace that Wanda's heart tightened.

She entered the room quietly, her breath heavy with emotion. She knelt beside their beds, first Billy's, then Tommy's, and placed a gentle kiss on their foreheads. "My boys..." she whispered, her voice breaking as tears ran down her face.

As she stood up, she tried to contain her sobs, but couldn't help it. She quickly wiped her tears, hearing voices from the room next door.

The voices were familiar. Her own voice mixed with hers. The soft laughter and calm words made Wanda bite her lip, hesitant. She shouldn't, but she couldn't resist. Curiosity was a poison, and she was already intoxicated.

She approached the room and, carefully, opened the door just enough to see the two of you.

You were lying on the bed, your back supported by pillows. The other Wanda was sitting at the foot of the bed, her legs in your lap. Her hands were gently sliding over your feet, massaging with a touch that seemed to have years of practice.

"You didn't have to do this, you know," you said, your tone full of affection and a slight touch of teasing.

"You're carrying our daughter, Y/n," the other Wanda replied, a smile playing at her lips. "When it was my turn, you did so much more. The least I can do is make sure you feel good."

You laughed, a sound that made Wanda hold her breath behind the door.

"I know this is just an excuse for you to touch me," you teased, raising an eyebrow.

"Maybe it is," admitted the other Wanda, a mischievous smile forming as she continued the massage.

"And what do you want in exchange for all this kindness, Ms. Maximoff?" you asked, your voice low and playful.

The other Wanda let out a soft laugh and looked at you with eyes full of tenderness. "I just want you to rest and let me take care of you. Nothing more."

Outside, the Sorceress watched, unable to look away. The scene seemed so simple, so ordinary, but to her, it was extraordinary.

She had never experienced this before.

The way you looked at the other Wanda, with so much love and trust. The care in every gesture she made, the security in every word. It all seemed so natural, so easy.

Wanda felt the tears threatening to fall again, but this time it was a different kind of emotion. Envy and longing. The desire to touch you, to make you laugh like that. The desire to be the one who made you feel so at ease, so loved.

"What are you thinking now?" you asked, interrupting the other Wanda's thoughts.

The other Wanda paused for a moment, her fingers still holding your feet. Then, with a soft smile, she replied, "I'm thinking about how much I love you. And how I can't wait to meet our daughter."

You fell silent, your eyes filling with tears as you reached out to touch her face.

"I love you too, Wanda. So much," you said, your voice low and full of emotion.

The other Wanda leaned in, kissing your belly softly before whispering, "And I love you too, Seline."

Outside, Wanda felt something inside her both break and rebuild at the same time. She wanted this. Her insides screamed with the need to have it all for herself, and she would do anything to have it.

The night was silent when Wanda left the room, leaving you asleep with a serene expression. She descended the stairs with light steps, but as soon as she reached the living room, a chilling cold ran down her spine.

"Finally decided to show up," a familiar, cold voice echoed from the darkness.

The copy spun quickly, her eyes glowing with surprise and tension. There she was—the Scarlet Witch, cloaked in a red energy, her eyes burning like embers.

"What are you?" the other Wanda asked, trying to maintain composure, but her tense posture betrayed her concern.

The Scarlet Witch smiled cruelly, tilting her head. "I am you. But perhaps the version you've been avoiding being."

The other Wanda took a step back, her fists clenched. "You're in the wrong place. There's nothing for you here."

"Oh, but there is," said the Witch, stepping forward, each movement filled with threat. "I came for my children."

The other Wanda paused for a moment before replying, narrowing her eyes. "My sons. My wife. My daughter. You have no right here!"

The witch laughed bitterly, her voice low and laden with pain. "And do you? How did someone like you manage to get all of this? They don't even know who you really are, do they? They don't even know half of what you can do."

The other Wanda stood firm. "They don't need to know. Because here, I'm just Wanda. I'm a mother, a wife. That's enough."

"Lie!" the Witch snarled, anger overflowing. "You can pretend to be normal, but we both know that isn't who we are. And you know what's worse? You're wasting it... on her." The Scarlet Witch's voice cracked at the mention of you.

"Why her?" the Witch asked, her voice wavering between anger and something that almost sounded like vulnerability. "What makes her so special? Why not Vision? Why not the family that was always ours?"

The other Wanda hesitated for a moment, then answered firmly.

"Because with her, I'm happy. With her, I'm not just a mother. Y/n challenges me, teases me, makes me want to beat her, break her, and win her over again and again just for a kiss. She can be fire, but she can also be the breeze in the heat when I see everything in red. She loves me for who I am, not for what I could be. She completes me in a way I never thought possible."

The Scarlet Witch felt a tightness in her chest, envy growing like an overwhelming wave. "That's absurd! Vision was perfect. He was... everything."

The other Wanda sighed, a sad smile touching her lips. "Vision was my first love. He taught me what it meant to be seen, to be loved. But with her... it's different. It's not about perfection. It's not about saving or being saved. It's about living."

She stepped forward, ignoring the look of pure jealousy that burned in the Witch's eyes.

"With her, I don't need to hide who I am. I don't need to be the Scarlet Witch. I don't need to fight the world. I just... am. And that's enough."

The words cut deep into the Scarlet Witch, like sharp knives slicing through an already open wound. What hurt her the most wasn't what the other Wanda said, but how much it made sense.

She had never felt this before. She had always been the protector, the savior, the villain. Vision loved her, but she could never just be Wanda beside him. There were always responsibilities, secrets, sacrifices.

She tried to speak, but the envy and jealousy were overwhelming, burning in her chest like fire. "You... you had everything. Vision. The boys. Why wasn't it enough?"

The other Wanda looked at her with soft eyes, but her voice was as hard as steel. "Because it wasn't real. And you know that better than anyone."

The Witch felt the blow, as if she had been punched in the stomach.

"But why her?" the Scarlet Witch screamed, her voice cracking with the intensity of her emotions. "Why not me!? I could give her all of that. I am you! I... I could be who you are for her!"

The other Wanda hesitated for a moment, her eyes assessing the figure in front of her. She could see the anger, the desperation, but also something else: a vulnerability she recognized as her own.

"You don't understand, do you?" The other Wanda sighed, shaking her head. "She doesn't love me for who I should be. She loves me for who I am. And you..." She hesitated, carefully choosing her words. "You don't know who you are anymore. Not completely."

These words were the final blow. The Scarlet Witch felt her body tremble, the anger mixing with a pain she could barely bear.

Her face softened for a moment, and she murmured, almost to herself: "I wish I knew what that was like. To be loved like that. Not for my powers. Not for who I was before. But by someone who sees everything — even the broken parts — and loves me anyway."

The other Wanda remained silent, as if considering saying something, but she knew that any word would only make things worse.

The Scarlet Witch closed her eyes, hot tears streaming down her face as she tried to contain the growing pain within her. "I just wanted... this." She looked at the other Wanda again, her eyes gleaming with a mixture of anger and desperation. "You had that, and now it's my turn!"

With a quick movement, the Scarlet Witch cast a spell that wrapped the other Wanda in chains of red energy, binding her.

"I'll be what she needs," she said, her voice cold and determined.

The other Wanda struggled, but the chains were too strong. "You don't understand," she gasped. "You can try to be like me, but you'll never be enough. She'll know. She'll feel it."

The Scarlet Witch smiled, but there was sadness in her eyes. "Don't be selfish!"

With a gesture, she opened a portal, throwing the other Wanda into a distant universe, far away from you and the boys. As the portal closed, the Scarlet Witch took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions inside her. Now, everything was in her hands.

She turned toward the hallway, where her new life awaited, but the weight of envy and jealousy still burned in her chest.

Why her? Why now? Those questions burned in her mind, a cacophony of desire and rage. She had always been the Scarlet Witch — feared, revered, invincible. But before you, it seemed she was none of those things. Before you, she was just Wanda, a broken woman yearning for something that seemed so simple, yet so impossible: to be loved.

To be loved for who she truly was, not for the legend, not for the power, not for the terror her name invoked. She wanted someone who saw the truth behind the mask, who touched the sharp fragments of her being without fear of being hurt. And you... you seemed to be that person. Your presence challenged everything she believed about herself, about love, about the world.

But with that light came a shadow darker than any magic Wanda had ever conjured. The desire to possess, to trap, to make you hers — only hers. It wasn’t fair. The universe had never been fair with her, and now, faced with the chance of something real, she refused to let it slip away.

~*~

I have a thing for a mega ultra powerful women, sorry... I think I'm guilty for this time.

Tag List <3

Tag list <3

@vyvvycg @rosekjsses @3liyuh @trindad2k

@indentity0018 @beggingonmykneesforher

@idkwhatever580 @valentine585

@reginassecretlover @trying-to-do-good

@imjustvibingsworld @mbxoxo @jazzyxqzl @bees-for-brains @eternallyconfuzed @ctrlaltedits @sheriffhaughtearp

@lesbiansweet @i-luv-w1men @sheriffswan-blog @htinha157 @syssmin @wandasslut3000

[cuppajj]

Neo Beast Head cannons?

WOOWOO

✨Saint Vanilla Cookie

He’s the only one who goes wherever he wants. The other beasts are pretty stationary for the time being, but Saint’s on a mission and he will show up literally anywhere

Still loves animals and thinks they’re incapable of sinning, so they don’t get the purifying touch. It’s why raisin’s crows are still alive

Speaking of raisin, he does miss her but he thinks she’s in a better place. Calls her his martyr and talks about her like she’s still alive

He has tea every morning

It’s unknown where he sleeps when he’s traveling the world

He keeps Crepe’s headset extra clean for the day they meet each other again

❤️‍🔥Dragonberry Cookie

She is still the same old Hollyberry who loves drinking berry juice like there’s no tomorrow. She even brings pints to Neo beast meetings

Even though her pride has given her a massive superiority complex, she still views her family and even Pitaya rather fondly, though it doesn’t prevent the latter from being spared any sort of pain. She sees everything as playful until it’s not

Does frankly miss Tarte Tatin and Royal Margarine even though one or both of them has Snapdragon, who she’s trying to get her hands on

Snores

❄️Frigid Cacao Cookie

Rarely speaks but when he does it’s usually to give orders, and half of that time he asks for food

His incense always remains lit

Alongside the cookies left, sometimes the licorice sea monsters that now roam his halls act as his servants. He can also use the licorice ooze to do wacky things like teleport from one place to another

Sometimes he appears in the fog of the snow like an apparition, something you can barely see but know he’s there. It’s one of the rare sightings of him outside

Another thing he does when outside is stare at a frozen Cacaoian. Sometimes he touches the icy surface, maybe kneels. Who knows what he’s thinking?

☀️Celestial Cheese Cookie

A lot of her mannerisms are akin to white diamond from steven universe, she was actually one of the main references I used for her design

She can summon as many golden arms as she wants and they operate on hydra properties. Cutting one will grow two

Despite this, she doesn’t have the legit Midas touch where everything she touches turns to gold, she can be selective. Which is good when she wants to pet jackals

Her growing kingdom is full of converted desert inhabitants and travelers, maybe a handful of townships, and it’s remarkable how she’s been able to grow a lot from nothing. She does get a bit of an inferiority complex when comparing herself to the likes of Dragonberry, but it motivates her to conquer more

🥀Midnight Lily Cookie

She picked up playing the harp after she became queen, and she plays often. The silver fae like to gather around to listen to their queen perform, and her harp can be heard across the kingdom

She’s grown more accustomed to speaking like the silver fae as well at times, her voice songlike despite how neutral it sounds. She’ll sing as she plays the harp as well

Despite being a beast, she’s the least accepting of that name for lack of a better word. She doesn’t see herself as being corrupt, only staying true to her decisions and her sovereignty, what she believes is right for herself and everyone. It just so happens that it enables the bad to do worse, but it’s not her problem anyway.

Her kingdom is still strict to outsiders, probably on the same level as cacao. You might need an invitation inside or risk the silver fae being free to do whatever they wish with you

As I mentioned previously they operate similar to the fae (unseelie in aesthetic) so you don’t want to bother chaotic neutral creatures

The only one allowed without invitation is Saint Vanilla, who has a habit of showing up in her garden to lay among the flowers. Lily can only imagine what he thinks of when he sees her

[boy-in-red-dress]

HEAR ME OUT, so I made a list of Ford and Bill's character traits and how they compliment each other. Ford and Bill's relationship is a rather interesting and twisted dynamic which is one of the reasons why I like them a lot. So let's start with my interpretation of the two characters...

Stanford Pines

He a deeply intricate character, shaped by a life that have left him both brilliant and broken. Born as one of two twins, Ford’s life has been a constant struggle with self-worth and identity. His intelligence and curiosity set him apart from others, but they also isolated him, creating a sense of loneliness. This isolation was only deepened by his complex relationship with his twin brother, Stanley. Ford’s need to prove himself became a driving force in his life. Yet, it was never simply about proving his worth; it was about escaping the deep-seated feelings of jealousy, shame, and guilt that had haunted him since childhood.

Ford's brilliance, however, is matched by his flaws. His obsession with knowledge and understanding the unknown led him down dangerous paths, often pushing away those who cared for him. The rift with his brother, born out of both love and rivalry, is a central part of his character. Which is why (if you've read some of my work on ao3) I put the fact Ford thinks about Stan often.

Despite his vast intellect, Ford’s emotional intelligence often lags behind, making him susceptible to manipulation and leading him to make decisions that are sometimes cold and calculating. He is a man who is willing to risk everything—even his own humanity—for the sake of discovery and the pursuit of what he believes is right and what could do good for the world. This single-minded determination, while admirable, also reveals his vulnerability. His self-imposed isolation and his relentless drive to prove his worth have left him with a fragile sense of self that is easily shattered when confronted with his own limitations. Speaking of his limitations, that's where Bill comes in. To make Ford go beyond the limits of his human capabilities.

Bill Cipher

He's a being of pure chaos and malevolence, contrasts Ford's character in almost every conceivable way. Where Ford is driven by a desire for knowledge and understanding, Bill is driven by a desire for power and control. Bill’s complexity lies in his unpredictability and his capacity for manipulation. He is a master of deception, able to twist the desires and fears of others to suit his own ends. Unlike Ford, who is bound by his human emotions and flaws, Bill is unrestrained, reveling in the chaos he creates. He lacks empathy, seeing others only as tools to be used or obstacles to be destroyed. His lack of morality and his enjoyment of others' suffering make him a truly terrifying entity to come across.

BUT. They have similarities, too. Stay with me.

1. Intellectual Curiosity and Ambition

Both Ford and Bill possess an insatiable curiosity and a relentless drive to uncover the secrets of the universe. For Ford, this curiosity is rooted in a genuine desire to understand the unknown, to push the boundaries of human knowledge, and to make his mark on the world. His intellect is one of his defining traits, and it’s what led him to explore other dimensions and study the mysteries of Gravity Falls.

Similarly, Bill is driven by a desire to know and control everything. His curiosity, however, is twisted by his malevolent nature; it’s less about understanding and more about exploiting knowledge for his own gain. Bill’s intellectual prowess is evident in how he manipulates others, devises complex plans (or impulsive plans), and navigates the multiverse with ease. His fascination with the workings of the universe mirrors Ford’s own, but where Ford seeks to understand, Bill seeks to dominate and corrupt.

2. Rejection of Limitations

Both characters reject the limitations imposed on them by their respective worlds. Ford’s entire life has been a struggle against the boundaries set by society, by his family, and even by his own humanity. His six-fingered hands marked him as different from a young age, and this difference fueled his determination to transcend the ordinary. Ford’s rejection of these limitations led him to create the portal, opening a gateway to other dimensions, and ultimately, to his fateful encounter with Bill.

Bill, too, rejects any form of limitation. As a being from the Nightmare Realm, Bill refuses to be confined by the rules of any single dimension. His very nature is one of rebellion against order and constraint. He sees limitations as challenges to be overcome, often through manipulation and force. This shared disdain for boundaries creates a unique parallel between the two: Ford, the man who defied his world to expand his knowledge, and Bill, the demon who seeks to break the rules of reality itself.

3. A Sense of Superiority

Ford and Bill both harbor a sense of superiority, though it manifests differently in each. Ford’s superiority is intellectual; he knows he is smarter than most people around him, and this often leads him to act alone, believing that only he can solve the problems he encounters. This mindset can make him seem arrogant or dismissive, particularly when dealing with those who don’t share his level of understanding.

Bill’s sense of superiority, on the other hand, is rooted in his power and knowledge. He views himself as above all others, not just because of his intelligence, but because of his status as an interdimensional being. Bill sees humans as insignificant creatures to be toyed with, and he revels in the chaos he can create among them. His superiority complex is part of what makes him so dangerous; he genuinely believes that no one can match him, which drives his desire to control and manipulate.

4. Isolation and Loneliness

Both Ford and Bill are, in their own ways, deeply isolated figures. Ford’s intellectual pursuits and his strained relationship with his brother have left him lonely, often feeling like he is the only one who can understand or solve the mysteries he uncovers. This isolation is both self-imposed and a consequence of his choices; Ford often distances himself from others to protect them or to keep them from slowing him down.

Bill, despite his power, is also a fundamentally lonely being. His existence as a demon is one of isolation; he is a creature of chaos in a universe that generally strives for order. His interactions with others are almost entirely manipulative, and he lacks genuine connections. This loneliness could be a driving force behind his desire to dominate and destroy—if he cannot be understood or accepted, then he will make the world bend to his will instead.

5. Obsession with Control

Control is another trait that both Ford and Bill share, though their methods and motivations differ. Ford’s obsession with control stems from his fear of the unknown and his need to protect those he cares about. After his experiences with Bill, this need becomes even more pronounced, as Ford understands the dangers that lurk beyond the veil of reality. His attempts to control situations, however, often lead to unintended consequences, and his desire to keep everything under control can sometimes cause more harm than good.

Bill’s obsession with control is far more malevolent. He doesn’t just want control—he wants total domination. Bill thrives on bending others to his will, on twisting reality to suit his desires. His manipulation of Ford is a key example of this; by gaining control over Ford, Bill was able to bring chaos to the world in ways that would have been impossible otherwise. For Bill, control is both a means to an end and the ultimate goal itself.

Conclusion: A Complex Relationship

The similarities between Ford and Bill make their relationship all the more complex and tragic. Ford’s intellectual curiosity, his desire to break free from limitations, his sense of superiority, and his isolation all made him an ideal target for Bill’s manipulation. At the same time, these shared traits create a twisted mirror image between the two—Bill literally represents the dark potential of Ford’s own qualities, turned towards destruction rather than discovery. That is if you look at it that way.

Together, they form a complicated pair: Ford, the man who seeks to protect and understand, and Bill, the demon who seeks to control and destroy. Their similarities make them more than just adversaries; they are reflections of each other’s strengths and flaws, locked in a struggle that is as much about their own identities as it is about the fate of the world. This dynamic is what makes their interactions so compelling and their conflict so deeply resonant, as each tries to outmaneuver the other while grappling with the very qualities that make them who they are.

I want to lick these senior citizens— WHAT WHO SAID TJAT

[marcyvamp1re-blog]

I would like to request romantic yandere scott summers x reader where his darling has amnesia. Now I don’t know how they got amnesia but scott brings reader home from the hospital one day and takes reader home claiming the reader is his wife or husband( gender does not matter), even though they were not married before. Scott takes advantage of the fact reader has amnesia, I would also have to assume they are not at the mansion so scott can do his yandere doings

BAG OF BONES

Synopsis. You remembered nothing, not even your name, yet he wove stories with threads of gold and promises. His voice, a refuge; his gaze, a cage. He claimed to love you like never before, like always. How could you doubt someone who swore to be your everything, even if his love felt like a prison disguised as home?

pairing ── Yandere! Scott Summers x Amnesiac! Reader.

Content. MDNI ── Dark themes, violence/death, blood, retrograde amnesia, forced marriage, inappropriate touching, insolation, invasion of privacy, kidnapping?, Slight mention of pregnancy, delusion, Angst, murdering, Disturbing Content, Death of a canonical character, lgbt?, Unhealthy Obsession, Gaslight, Mental Illness, Corruption, Isolation, Paranoia, Manipulation.

A/N ── English is not my first language—Spanish— Honestly, I've always been interested in the Yandere x Amnesiac theme. It's really fascinating how the psychology of the characters can be so complex in these types of stories. Also, thank you for being clear and concise in your request, and I hope you enjoy it.

They say one should never try to go back to the past, that the present is where we must live and the future what we must build. But how could you do that when you felt a piercing emptiness in your chest, a pain you didn’t understand? Your heart screamed that something was wrong, that what you were experiencing wasn’t real, that danger lurked closer than you could imagine.

The white glare of the hospital lights blinded you as you opened your eyes. You felt your body heavy, your mind clouded, and an absolute bewilderment that made you tremble. Everything felt strange, as if you were a piece out of place in an unknown puzzle. Then you saw him.

A tall man, with a firm build, wearing burgundy glasses that hid his eyes but not his excited expression. His smile lit up upon seeing you awake, and before you could say anything, his lips pressed against your forehead, your cheeks, your hair, leaving desperate and anxious kisses.

“Thank God you’re okay,” he whispered with a warm, relieved voice.

But you weren’t. You remembered nothing. Not even your name. Confusion filled you, and words wouldn’t come to your lips. He, however, seemed to have all the answers.

“I’m Scott Summers, do you remember me?” he said, taking your hand gently. His fingers were warm, but the way he squeezed them made you feel trapped—“We just got married.”

Married? The impact left you breathless. You looked at your hands, and there it was: a beautiful diamond ring along with a wedding band. Its shine seemed to confirm his words. When you looked up, you saw he wore a similar set on his left hand.

“I... don’t remember...” you started to say, but he shook his head gently.

“It doesn’t matter. You’re alive, and that’s all that matters. I’ll take care of you.”

His voice was sweet, reassuring, and you decided to believe him. Why wouldn’t you? Everything seemed to fit: the ring, the familiarity in his gestures, the way he looked at you. But deep inside, there was something you couldn’t silence.

There was something in his smile, something in the way his fingers never stopped touching you, that made you feel exposed. Vulnerable. Like you were a butterfly trapped in a display case, admired but with no escape.

How naïve you were to think that warmth meant safety.

When he took you to what he said was your home, the confusion inside you grew heavier, more oppressive. It was a small cabin in the midst of a lush forest, completely isolated from the rest of the world. Scott explained that the distance was necessary, that you had always preferred the tranquility of nature, away from societal judgment, especially for what you were: a mutant.

“You used to say that here you could be yourself,” he murmured with a smile as he parked the car. His words were warm, but they sounded strange.

As he guided you through the house, you noticed how his explanations seemed overly rehearsed, almost mechanical. The master bedroom was cozy, with dark wooden furniture and a large bed, but there was something unsettling in how orderly everything was, as if you had never truly lived there.

“This is the guest room,” he said as he opened a door. The space was filled with tools and paint, as if it were in the process of being transformed—“I’m preparing it for something special.”

You didn’t ask for what. There was something in his tone that dissuaded you from doing so.

The kitchen, however, came with a warning. “Don’t enter here without me, okay? I want to make sure you don’t hurt yourself.”

“Hurt myself?” The phrase hung in your mind as he showed you the rest of the house. Finally, you arrived at the living room, the space that unsettled you the most.

It was a mix of museum and altar. There were photos of you everywhere: smiling, reading, walking in a park you didn’t recognize. Some included Scott, his arm always firmly around your shoulders, and others showed a group of people who seemed unfamiliar yet strangely familiar.

In one of the photos, a group dressed in flamboyant, almost theatrical clothes stood out. It was a mosaic of colors and textures that evoked something lost on the edge of your memory. In the image, you were in a corner, embraced by a young woman with pink glasses who seemed a few years younger than you. On your other side, a brown-haired woman with white streaks smiled subtly, though she didn’t touch you. She seemed close, important.

However, what caught your attention the most wasn’t any of them, but a figure in the background, almost hidden behind Scott. A woman with bright red hair who seemed to look at the man with particular intensity. The photo was slightly blurry, as if someone had manipulated it or neglected it on purpose.

“Who is she?” you asked, pointing at the blurred figure before you could stop yourself.

Scott tensed immediately. His smile vanished for an instant before returning, though more forced. “Oh, just someone from the past. It doesn’t matter now. The only thing that matters is you and how happy we are together.”

You didn’t press. His response wasn’t enough, but something in his gaze told you that pushing was dangerous.

That night, as you tried to sleep, doubts burned inside you. Who was that woman? Why couldn’t you remember anything about your life, not even the people in those photos? And above all, why did every time you looked at Scott, the weight in your chest grew heavier, as if you were trapped in a gilded cage?

You didn’t love Scott. You couldn’t. Maybe you had at some point, but if that was the case, that love didn’t survive the accident that erased your memories. Now, he was a stranger, and his constant need for contact suffocated you. Scott wasn’t just clingy; he was voracious. Every caress felt like an indelible mark on your skin, every kiss a reminder that you weren’t free.

He adored being glued to you, almost as if he feared you would disappear if he let go. He insisted on bathing you, choosing your clothes and dressing you, his fingers grazing your skin more than necessary. He prepared every meal with devotion and served it to you as if you were a deity to be worshipped. But even those gestures, so carefully disguised as love, carried a shadow you couldn’t ignore.

“I want you to feel cared for, protected,” he would tell you with a smile as he brushed your hair. His words were sweet, but the way he said them was unsettling, as if he were convincing himself more than you.

Days passed in suffocating routines and deafening silence. Scott took you outdoors, around the cabin, making sure not to stray too far. He said it was for your safety, but you knew that wasn’t true. Every time you looked at the forest, so vast and full of possibilities, you felt a growing urge to run, to escape, even though you didn’t know where to go.

And then the flashes began.

At first, they were fleeting images, fragments that emerged when you least expected them. A smile that wasn’t from Scott. A soft laugh. Bright green eyes framed by fiery red hair. The woman from the photo.

Every time those memories surfaced, a sharp pain pierced your head, as if your mind struggled to protect you from something you didn’t want to know. But the most disturbing thing wasn’t the woman, but how you saw her: standing next to Scott, his hand in hers, their lips forming words you couldn’t hear. Happy. United. Almost as if…

No.

The first day you had that memory, you screamed in the middle of breakfast. The spoon fell from your hands as you instinctively recoiled in your chair. Scott was beside you in an instant, his hands firm on your shoulders, his eyes hidden behind glasses but his face filled with concern.

“What’s wrong, love? Are you okay?”

“I... I...” You tried to explain, but the words wouldn’t come. All you could do was look at his hands, those same hands that in your visions touched another woman with the same devotion as they now touched you.

Scott frowned, his expression darkening for a moment before a nervous smile returned to his face. “It’s just your mind playing tricks on you. It’s normal, sweetheart. Take a moment.”

But it wasn’t. And you knew it.

That night, as you brushed your teeth, the mirror in front of you trembled. Not from any external movement, but because your mind was slowly breaking, releasing pieces of a puzzle you were just beginning to recognize. A flash hit you, as if a storm were dragging you to another time.

She was there, the red-haired woman you had seen before, but this time she wasn’t a blurry image. Her laughter was warm, almost contagious, and you were next to her, shy, with a small smile that barely dared to emerge. Her hand rested gently on your arm while the other figures around you joined in the conversation.

The dark-haired woman with white streaks watched you with a mischievous look, an eyebrow raised as she crossed her arms. Beside her, a young woman with pink glasses laughed loudly, patting your shoulder as if she had known you forever. Nearby, another tall woman, with deep eyes and a majestic demeanor, looked at you with a mix of understanding and affection. They all seemed to encourage something, their animated voices like a chaotic melody you could barely comprehend.

“He’s a good man,” one of them said, her tone firm but kind. “He adores you!” exclaimed the youngest, with a beaming smile. “Just go and have a little fun.”

But not all were so enthusiastic. The red-haired woman didn’t share their laughter or their words of encouragement. Her expression was softer, almost melancholic, and her eyes met yours for a long moment. When the others dispersed, she stepped closer to you.

Her hands took yours, warm and steady, and for a moment you felt more protected than you had in a long time. She didn’t say anything at first, just hugged you tightly, her embrace speaking more than any words. Leaning toward your ear, her voice was a whisper, but her words were etched into your memory.

“You have my blessings…” Her breath was shaky, and you felt her fingers tighten slightly on your back—“And I love you.”

You stepped back slightly to look at her, but her smile seemed like a mask. There was something in her eyes you couldn’t understand at that moment, something that hurt you in a strange way.

The memory faded as quickly as it came, leaving you standing in front of the mirror, gasping. You gripped the edge of the sink, your fingers white from the pressure. Your reflection seemed distant, as if it weren’t yours.

Who was she? What did it all mean? And above all, why did her face, her voice, her embrace fill you with a warmth that made Scott’s love feel cold and forced?

The mirror in front of you trembled as you hit it with your hands, gasping, your pupils dilated with terror. Your reflection didn’t look like you. It was a broken version, trapped in a life you didn’t understand.

Scott appeared behind you like a ghost, his hands wrapping around your waist firmly. His warm breath on your neck made you shiver.

“You look tired, love. Let me take care of you.”

The first time you saw him in full clarity was in a dream, or so you thought when you woke up, gasping and with your body soaked in cold sweat.

You were in a dark and damp room, the air heavy with the metallic smell of blood. Your hands trembled as you held a fragile, cold, lifeless body: a woman with red hair, now dulled and stuck to her pale face. Blood stained her lips and flowed from multiple wounds on her chest, as if something had pierced her repeatedly. They weren’t normal wounds; they were small, irregular caves, burned by a heat that couldn’t be human.

Jean. Her name hit you like lightning. Jean. Now you knew, and the weight of that name on your chest made you sob as you held her against you, trying, futilely, to cover the wounds with your hands.

“No... no, please, wake up...” Your voice was a desperate whisper, broken, a lament in the void.

The sound of footsteps behind you made your body tense. You recognized them before turning around. Their walk was unmistakable: confident, calculated, almost victorious.

Scott was there. His figure was silhouetted against the dim light, his burgundy glasses shining with an unsettling glow. His face showed no sadness, no guilt. Only satisfaction.

“It had to be this way,” he said with a calm voice, too tranquil for the scene before you. His tone was gentle, almost kind, as if he were explaining something simple.

You stood frozen, your hands still holding the body of the woman, while your mind struggled to process his words.

“What... what did you do?” you managed to murmur, though your voice was barely a thread.

Scott took another step forward, his boots echoing on the stone floor. He knelt before you, ignoring the blood staining the ground and spreading like a river between you two. His hand rose to caress your cheek, and you flinched, unable to move.

“Now that she’s gone…” he continued, his tone filled with a sweetness that was terrifying—“nothing can separate us. We can be together, just as we were always meant to be.”

Your body reacted before your mind did. You let Jean’s body fall, stumbling backward, your hands still trembling, covered in her blood. “You’re crazy!” you shouted, though your voice broke into a sob at the end.

But Scott didn’t seem affected. He stood up with the calmness of someone who knows he has already won. He took a step toward you, and then another, until you had no space left to escape.

“No, love,” he said, leaning toward you, his breath brushing your ear—“I’m in love.”

The intensity in his voice paralyzed you. It was a declaration, not an explanation. He truly believed that everything he had done was out of love.

The dream, or the memory, ended there, with his face so close to yours that you could feel the warmth of his skin. You woke up with a start, a muffled scream in your throat and your heart pounding in your chest.

Your hands continued to tremble as you looked around the room. You were in the cabin, in your bed, but the smell of blood still seemed to linger in the air.

“Are you okay?” Scott’s voice broke the silence. He was next to you, watching you with his typical feigned concern, his hand already reaching for yours.

You instinctively recoiled, pulling away from his touch, but you tried to hide it. Your breathing was ragged, and you forced yourself to nod. “Just... a bad dream.”

He smiled, but his eyes behind the glasses didn’t stop watching you with that intensity that always seemed to hide something more. “I’m here for you. Always.”

That night, you decided you had to uncover the truth, even if it cost you your sanity... or your life.

A/N ── Yes, it’s not a happy ending, but at least it’s an ending that leaves a lot of room for reflection. I wanted to try out a conclusion like this at some point, and I hope it didn’t make anyone uncomfortable. Thank you for reading, and if you want to request something, feel free to do so as long as requests are open. More information in the pinned comment!

Take a bath!

[making-you-in-spore]

you're like that chocolate guy. but for spore. inquiry: is there any time where you've gone to make something and spore and realized you can't [not including "OH DEAR GOD MY COMPUTER IS RUNNING AT 1 FRAME PER MINUTE" complicated characters]

oh for certain. i've had plenty of creations i've just given up on and said "fuck it, good enough" because my skill level wasn't there yet. i've got a couple super cursed ones on the backlog, of my ocs and of other things. here, with my original character designs next to them:

but also, there have been times where spore has given up on me for unknown reasons. this bug ferret crashed and corrupted multiple times before i just quit adding to it, and i don't even know why. it's way less complex than many other of my creatures, spore just hated how many whiskers i put on this thing. the finished ferret doesn't even load properly in game, either. it's just invisible.

i've never really had any creations start lagging to hell and back in the editor, but this damn thing i made several years ago spawned in a campaign in the creature stage and killed my framerate before i drove them to extinction.

it's called the harbinger, and that name is fitting for it.

[antispopausandstuff]

Adora's Underwritten Psyche

.

list of unexplored, underdeveloped opportunities granted that the writers didn't take for their main ( keyword - main ) protagonist:

being the next poster child of the Horde, desiring Shadow Weaver and Hordak's approval.

Shadow Weaver putting not only the responsibility, but the life of another child ( a volatile one, at that ) in her hands when Adora herself was, at most, 10 years old.

her promotion of Force Captain, which would mean she would be responsible for more lives, while she herself is still a child.

being different from her peers for unknown reasons, and being antagonized for it from a young age ( by Catra ).

constantly having to cater to Catra's person, often including her mood swings and sadism, to either avoid conflict or to make Catra happier.

not only her entire world being turned upside down, but having to fight the only people she knew as family.

being so incredibly sheltered and manipulated that she doesn't even know what an aunt or a party is, showing she was completely unable to have even a modicum of an actual childhood.

not knowing her own culture, home planet, people, biological family, if they ever wanted her, and being given away.

Mara. Mara.

Catra's repeated, increasingly violent betrayals, her hypocrisies, manipulations, etc. after abandoning Adora, while claiming she was the one who was abandoned.

likely feeling even more responsible for Glimmer, Bow, and Angella's lives, a part of it out of immense guilt.

being repeatedly harassed // stalked and assaulted by Catra.

being repeatedly harassed // stalked by Shadow Weaver.

Entrapta's "death". and her betrayal.

being drugged, kidnapped, and essentially nearly "leashed" by Catra.

the Portal. Corrupted Catra. everything.

Angella's sacrifice. with her Atlas complex, there's no way Adora should've been as stable as she was after seeing someone, quite literally, for all she knew, die for her.

Glimmer blaming her. i get it, but it felt like the show quickly made it so that Adora was more upset about not being enough for her than the fact that, y'know, she was the only one blamed for someone's, let alone Angella's, death.

the Heart of Etheria.

Horde Prime's invasion. you cannot convince me she wouldn't feel at least somewhat responsible for that.

Horde Prime telling her, to her face, that Eternia was gone.

Catra being back in her life.

Chipped Catra. no, not for shipping angst reasons.

Catra antagonizing her again, for literally no reason.

Melog being the last of their kind, Adora being the last of hers. maybe not psyche-related, but it certainly should've affected her way more than it did ( which was p much not at all ).

Shadow Weaver. oh, wait, sorry, i forgot that only Catra has trauma related to Shadow Weaver /s.

the Failsafe.

Catra antagonizing her for the umpteenth time, for no reason.

Catra abandoning her, for no reason.

the Failsafe.

but she's just a dumb jock lesbian who's in love with Catra, right? that's alllll that matters. /s.

[baenyth]

We need more Danganronpa characters as evil groups, but not the Ultimate Despair or its remnants. Too abstract. Too bland. Fuck despair. Fuck Junko. I'm either killing her off or she doesn't exist. Danganronpa villain groups completely distanced from the Ultimate Despair:

Makoto Naegi is the charismatic head of a dictatorship. Perhaps he believes this is what's best for the world. Or he just wants a throne to sit on. This is an alternative timeline, maybe he's evil here. Either way, he managed to rope in his 14 other classmates into joining him in his empire. Byakuya uses the Togami Corporation to clench Makoto's rule and fund projects wherever he can. He's also a consultant, alongside Yasuhiro Hagakure. Kyoko Kirigiri is the head of the espionage department, with Chihiro as the second-in-command and head of data management. Kiyotaka manages the police force, acting as judge, jury, and executioner. Mondo, Sakura, Aoi, and Mukuro all work in Makoto's army. Sayaka, Leon, Hifumi, and Toko work in the entertainment (or in other words, propaganda,) division. Genocider is allowed to kill any pretty boys the espionage department lets her. Celestia rules over her own chunk of land as gothic lolita queen and is arguably the loosest link, but ultimately still abides by Makoto's laws.

The Danganronpa V3 cast has been corrupted into animalistic monsters, think Steven Universe. Gonta's body has been converted into a flying hive for all manner of bugs, all sorts of flyers coming from his eyesockets and mouth carrying centipedes, spiders, and other flightless bugs so they all can feed and bring food back to the husk that was once a gentleman. Kirumi now resembles a marble statue with a blindfold over her eyes and a clock on her backside, where her four arms and four legs move in orderly, yet seemingly random fashions. If you come across her, you have to play a game of following her increasingly complex commands, often akin to a game of Simon Says, or risk searing throbbing pain. Kiibo is one of the more threatening ones. With his body inorganic and unable to be distorted like the others, his mind was merely warped into malware that can possess anything with a computer inside it. This includes cell phones, calculators, thermostats, cars with built-in GPSes and cameras, etc. His body, the source of the malware, is still unknown. A two-faced gorgon obsessed with creating rudimentary-yet-effective deathtraps. A gorgeous and colorful false angel. A blob of goo that somehow knows how to use various machinery. Perhaps the three survivors are akin to the Crystal Gems here, survivors in a different sense here, the ones fighting their former friends for the sake of everyone else.

Ruruka Ando as the queen of what is essentially candyland, with Sonosuke Izayoi as her knight in sweet, delicious, and surprisingly durable armor. All citizens in her expanding country are given free sweets to devour, and those who don't are punished for their insolence.

Finally, the cast of Super Danganronpa 2 are a team of mercenaries. Evil goons for hire, as that's what they've been typecast as at this point. Maybe life has just been really harsh on them and NezumiVA was right. Or maybe this is similar to canon, where they got puppeted into evil and were eventually freed, only to annihilate their reputation by continuing to pose as villains, effectively pigeonholing themselves into evil from society's eyes. As for what they could do: Kazuichi could build a robotic army or just machines for the lower mooks to ride on. Sonia, Fuyuhiko, and Twogami could all rule conquered provinces in the empire. Nekomaru could command minions while Akane and Peko act as elite troops. Ibuki could too, considering the lethality of her music, or she could act in espionage alongside Mahiru and Hiyoko, considering her hearing skills. Gundham could add various animals to the armada. Teruteru can produce food for the army. Mikan is literally a medic. Izuru Kamakura lives on, and is the Ultimate Ultimate. Possibly even more, considering the timeline. Nagito Komaeda is the equivalent of one of those really small cylinders of play-doh that are wider than they are tall. I can't imagine Chiaki being in the group, however. Either way, I can imagine this quirky miniboss squad having various unique interactions with our heroes, whoever they may be. I'd imagine Nekomaru would befriend the heroes in an odd way, being supportive of their strength and a fair fighter despite being on the villain's side, while Teruteru would repulse our heroes for being a sexual harasser, for example.

Also @goshdangronpa I want you to look at this, girlie. Read it all. Soak it up.

[tempobaekh]

Between Realms

Pairings: Ga Motak x Scarlet Witch!reader

Warnings: angst, tiny bit fluff maybe?? idk? I think my shitty story writing should be a warning as well

A/N: I’m having a Motak brainstorm right now. Like the amount of ideas I have to merge marvel and tuc bc why tf not? So this is fic number one of my idea and I have another one in the works. I kind of hate this one but also like it idk this gotta be my worst work. Also an idea from my babe @slytherinshua made me come up with this<3

The Counters' new place buzzed with activity as they analyzed, in their eyes, a new threat that had emerged.

Y/N, considered an evil spirit, had become an enigma even they couldn't comprehend.

Possessing abilities beyond their comprehension of just how strong she was, she was a force to be reckoned with.

But she wasn't using her immense abilities to harm others; she had become an anti-hero, despite having powers that can cause utter destruction, she chose to use them to  protect those around her.

You see she was an innocent victim that was unfortunate enough to be targeted as the host to the evil spirit.

When Y/N was conducting study in a lonely library that not many people visited, that is how she got into this strange situation.

This library contained a strange collection of mystical artifacts, scrolls, and books, many of which had been untouched buried deep inside the library.

In her quest for knowledge and understanding of the mystical arts, Y/N stumbled upon a seemingly harmless amulet. This amulet was decorated in complex runes and symbols from several spiritual traditions, exquisitely covered. Unknown to Y/N, the amulet was more than just an artifact; it was a prison.

The amulet had been crafted centuries ago by a powerful sorcerer who sought to imprison an evil spirit of chaos and destruction, a spirit even Yung wasn’t aware of.

The evil spirit was known for its ability to corrupt and consume the souls of those it possessed, granting them immense power in exchange for their humanity.

Y/N, driven by her insatiable curiosity and the desire to harness the amulet's hidden potential, decided to wear it. In doing so, she unknowingly triggered the amulet's ancient enchantment. The evil spirit, dormant for ages, sensed a new host and seized the opportunity, merging its essence with Y/N's consciousness.

The fusion was not without its struggles. Y/N fought to maintain control over her own mind and body, while the evil spirit sought to dominate her.

It was during this internal struggle that Y/N's powers began to manifest, Y/N's powers allowed her to manipulate and harness a mysterious energy source that appeared as scarlet-colored manifestations when she wielded her abilities.

This scarlet energy was a visual representation of her power and became closely associated with her. 

Which earned her the name Scarlet Witch.

The Scarlet Witch attire is a manifestation of her powers and her connection to the evil spirit within the amulet. It's a distinctive outfit that combines elements of traditional mysticism with a touch of modernity. 

Her attire doesn't materialize automatically. She can summon it at will when she chooses to engage in combat or tap into her Scarlet Witch powers.

This allows her to blend in with regular clothing when she doesn't want to draw attention to her abilities.

The attire consists of a flowing crimson robe adorned with arcane symbols, it also includes a headpiece with a red gem that helps channel and focus her powers.

While wearing the Scarlet Witch attire, Y/N's powers are enhanced and more focused. It allows her to harness the full extent of her reality-warping abilities, manipulating the environment and creating illusions or defensive barriers as needed.

Y/N can control when the attire appears and disappears, giving her flexibility in choosing when to use her powers discreetly or to engage in battles against the Counters or other threats.

The attire serves as a symbol of her unique situation, a reminder of the evil spirit within her, and her ongoing struggle to keep it in check. It's a visual representation of the duality within her, embodying both her heroic and potentially destructive capabilities.

As she grappled with this newfound power, Y/N realized that she could control the evil spirit within her to some extent.

She used her abilities to keep it in check, preventing it from causing harm to others, or taking control over her and using her as an extension to do its evil deeds.

However, she also understood the danger she posed, should the malevolent spirit gain the upper hand.

So she started to distance herself from everything, from the world.

Y/N's life took an unexpected turn from that moment onward. She became a reluctant anti-hero, determined to protect both herself and those around her from the evil spirit's influence, even though her using the powers was seen as evil.

This intricate dance between good and evil formed the foundation of her struggle in keeping everything at bay, despite being physically and mentally tormented by the evil spirit within her.

Y/N's first encounter with the Counters was entirely unexpected. She had been living a relatively solitary life after merging with the evil spirit and gaining her Scarlet Witch powers.

Her primary focus was on controlling the evil entity within her and using her abilities for personal defense rather than offense.

One fateful evening, as she was attempting to contain the evil spirit's influence in a deserted part of the city, her powers inadvertently drew the attention of the Counters, as she unknowingly stepped in their territory.

The Counters, always vigilant for signs of supernatural disturbances, sensed a powerful and unusual energy source in the vicinity.

They were going in this mission blind, not knowing the full extent of powers Y/N had as she was so powerful that Hana couldn’t even tell which level evil spirit this was.

As Y/N struggled to maintain control over the malevolent spirit, her powers caused a rift in the fabric of reality, which the Counters detected. They rushed to the scene, expecting to confront a malevolent spirit wreaking havoc.

Hana, being the vigilant and pragmatic member of the Counters, initially believed that Y/N was just another evil spirit posing a potential threat to innocent people.

She saw Y/N's powers as a potential risk to the balance between the realms, and her skepticism made her determined to follow the standard protocol.

During the initial confrontation with the Counters, Y/N found herself overwhelmed and facing a team of skilled individuals who were determined to subdue what they believed to be a evil spirit.

She had the power to defend herself, but her moral compass guided her to avoid causing harm.

As the Counters closed in on her, their combined abilities proved too much for her to handle without revealing her full potential.

She decided to surrender peacefully, knowing that it would be the quickest way to show them that she wasn't a threat, and that she just craved help, she wanted to separate herself from the torture that was the evil spirit.

Once captured, Y/N was taken to a specially prepared containment chamber within the Counters' headquarters. The chamber was designed to neutralize supernatural entities and prevent them from using their powers to escape or cause harm.

The chamber was a dimly lit, translucent enclosure with intricate protective runes etched into the walls and floor, personally made by the people in Yung. The runes acted as a barrier, preventing Y/N from using her powers to manipulate the environment or escape.

The room had a cold, sterile feel to it, amplifying her sense of isolation and confinement.

When the Counters confronted Y/N during that initial encounter, she was faced with a difficult decision. Her life since merging with the evil spirit, against her will, had been one of isolation and struggle.

Controlling the evil entity within her had taken a toll on her both physically and mentally. She had experienced moments of chaos and danger as she tried to grapple with her newfound powers.

Before merging with the evil spirit, Y/N had led a relatively normal life. However, the traumatic experience of the evil spirit's possession had left her scarred. She had seen the damage it could do, not only to others but also to her own sense of self. The spirit's relentless attempts to take control had caused her unimaginable pain and suffering.

Y/N had made a vow never to harm innocent people, driven by a deep-seated fear of becoming the monster she had seen within the evil spirit. Her powers were both a blessing and a curse, and she carried the weight of that burden every day.

Y/N's emotions during her containment were complex and conflicted. She felt a mix of fear, frustration, and a deep sense of injustice. She knew that her intentions were not malicious, and she had hoped to live a quiet life, free from the evil spirit's influence.

However, being confined and treated as a threat by the Counters stirred feelings of anger and helplessness. She also felt a sense of isolation, as she couldn't fully explain her situation to anyone without risking further misunderstanding.

It was during her capture by the Counters that Y/N's connection with Motak began to form. Motak, who often kind of acted like the leader of the Counters, was known for his calm and compassionate demeanor, even in the face of supernatural threats.

He was the first among the Counters to sense that Y/N was not the typical evil spirit they had encountered.

As Y/N was contained within the Counters' headquarters, Motak spent time observing her.

He sensed her inner turmoil, her struggle to control the evil spirit, and her genuine desire not to harm others. Something about her vulnerability and the conflict within her resonated with him on a profound level.

Over time, Y/N began to open up to Motak. She shared the story of how she had come into contact with the evil spirit and the traumatic experiences she had endured since. Motak, in turn, shared stories of the Counters' mission and the moral dilemmas they faced.

Their conversations deepened their understanding of each other, and an unspoken connection formed between them.

Motak was drawn to Y/N's strength and resilience in the face of adversity, as well as her determination to use her powers for good, and he could not deny that Y/N was utterly beautiful, a sight for sore eyes.

Y/N, on the other hand, found in Motak a kindred spirit, someone who saw the potential for good within her despite the darkness that loomed.

His unwavering belief in her goodness and his compassion touched her heart in a way she had not expected.

Ga Motak was conflicted. He stood by the glass doors, peering into the room where Y/N was contained. Her powers radiated like a cosmic storm, but she held them in check.

She was not the menace they had expected.

In the midst of the chaos, Hana, the fierce and determined member of the team, was resolute about their mission. She argued vehemently, "We can't let this continue, Motak! Y/N is dangerous, just like any other evil spirit. We must summon it and put an end to this!"

Motak remained silent, his eyes fixed on Y/N. He couldn't bring himself to treat her like a typical evil spirit. Something about her drew him in, an unexplainable connection that transcended their roles.

Y/N, once she had established a degree of trust with the Counters, thanks to Motak being a big help, attempted to explain her unique predicament.

She told them about how she had unwittingly merged with the evil spirit through the ancient amulet. She described the trauma and pain she had endured in controlling the spirit's influence and how she had developed her powers as a result.

However, even with her heartfelt explanations, there remained a degree of skepticism among some of the Counters, particularly Hana.

She was still wary of Y/N's powers and the potential threat they posed.

The Counters knew that to fully address the situation, they needed to deal with the evil spirit trapped within Y/N.

So they formed a plan.

Their plan involved summoning the spirit and finding a way to separate it from her without causing harm.

Y/N, having a deeper understanding of the evil spirit's nature, offered her assistance in this process.

She believed that she could use her powers to create a controlled environment, a kind of pocket dimension where the spirit could be safely contained during the separation and summoned back to Yung.

Y/N's powers were intertwined with the evil spirit due to the amulet's fusion. The Counters recognized that her abilities could be a valuable asset in their mission to protect the balance between realms.

Therefore, the plan was not to completely strip her of these powers but to separate them from the malevolent spirit.

To achieve this separation, the Counters devised a plan to use a combination of their supernatural abilities and Y/N's powers.

They would create a ritual that temporarily weakened the connection between the amulet and the evil spirit, allowing Y/N to use her reality-warping abilities to draw the spirit out.

Once the evil spirit was drawn out and contained in the pocket dimension Y/N had prepared, the Counters would focus on separating it from the amulet. This was a delicate and dangerous process, but Y/N's control over the spirit gave them the best chance of success.

The ultimate goal was to leave Y/N with her powers intact but free from the evil spirit's influence.

It was a complex and risky plan, but Y/N and the Counters believed it was the only way to ensure that she could use her unique abilities for good without harming anyone or being consumed by darkness.

Later, the night before the dangerous ritual, as the headquarters grew quiet, Motak found himself alone with Y/N.

She was still in the translucent barrier, her eyes reflecting both power, and vulnerability but also showing fear for what was about to happen.

"Y/N," Motak spoke softly, "You are going to be okay, we can do this" he tried reassuring her in his deep voice, almost sounding like he was telling himself that.

She met his gaze with an intensity that sent shivers down his spine. "Motak, there's a reason I control the spirit within me. I don't want to hurt anyone. I've seen what absolute power can do, and I refuse to become a monster. I want to be free.”

He stepped closer to the barrier, his hand reaching out, longing to touch her. "We can do this, I will free you from this shitty spirit.” he paused letting out a small chuckle as Y/N also let out a watery laugh. “This plan must work, we can do it together."

Y/N's eyes softened, and she nodded. "We can rewrite our own destinies, Motak, but we must be careful. The line between good and evil is thin, and we walk it every day."

As the ritual to separate the evil spirit from Y/N's amulet reached its climax, the room filled with an otherworldly energy. Y/N's Scarlet Witch attire shimmered, and her powers surged to their peak.

Beads of sweat formed on her forehead as she concentrated, aided by the collective strength of the Counters.

In the center of the room, a swirling vortex of crimson energy emerged, drawing the evil spirit out of Y/N's body.

The spirit fought and resisted, but Y/N's unyielding determination, combined with the Counters' supernatural prowess, proved stronger. With a final surge of power, the spirit was captured within the pocket dimension Y/N had created.

A collective sigh of relief filled the room as the evil spirit was successfully separated from Y/N.

She collapsed to her knees, drained from the intense effort, but her powers remained intact, her amulet now free of the evil influence.

“Y/N!” Motak rushed to her side, offering his support as she regained her strength, cradling her delicately to his chest.

He pressed light kisses to her forehead, whispering praises with his lips pressed to her skin.

The other Counters observed in awe, realizing that Y/N's abilities could be a valuable asset in their mission to protect the balance between realms.

Hana, who had been the most skeptical of Y/N, watched the proceedings with a newfound respect. She understood that Y/N's intentions were pure, and her powers could be a force for good.

With the evil spirit contained and neutralized in the pocket dimension, the Counters turned their attention to sending the evil spirit back to the darkest depths of Yung where it belonged.

While Y/N, for the first time in what felt like a long time, felt free, relaxed, and safe in the arms of the man she fell deeply for.

The man that vows to protect her and love her no matter what.

In the days that followed, Y/N and Motak's connection deepened further.

They had faced the darkness within and emerged stronger together. Their forbidden love had defied all odds, just as Y/N had defied the evil spirit's attempts to consume her.

As they looked toward an uncertain future, Y/N, Motak, and the Counters had rewritten their destinies.

They were no longer just hunters of evil spirits; they were protectors of the balance between worlds, guided by the belief that even in the darkest of circumstances, love and understanding could prevail.

And so, in the quiet moments between battling supernatural threats, Y/N and Motak found solace in each other's arms, knowing that their love was as powerful as the abilities that had brought them together—a love that could conquer any challenge that lay ahead.

Note: gifs, pictures, and header DOES NOT belong to me. CREDITS TO THE RIGHTFUL OWNERS!! Feedback is appreciated.

[xxventiswindblumexx]

Venti/Barbatos x follower fem reader!

Much like my Smut Soulmate I was nervous for this release since I mainly have scara Simps on here but since they're posting I'm posting! We post together 🥺❤👫

Here's to good fan fiction! 🍷

@hitomisuzuya

⚠Warnings⚠:God complex,superiority kink, corruption, venti being himself, pervert stuff, praise kink, breeding kink, mentions of Alcohol because ya know venti.

Barbatos, the Archon of Freedom, holder of the Ameno Vision and the weakest Archon according to those who do not live in Mondstadt. It doesn't matter what they say however, to you he is all you need, to believe in, to love, to feel protected. You're a nun in the Favonius Cathedral, ever since you were young you've dedicated your life to preserve, protect and to teach everything Barbatos was about.

You lived among another named Barbara, she's the Deaconess, she is older but not by much. However you've noticed she's been neglecting her dutys, only slightly not something an average person would notice. She seems to be infatuated with the Traveller, sure he is interesting but he didn't peek your interest as much as a certain bard that seemed to follow him occasionally. Unaware of the bards true identity of course you tried to stray from temptation, barely speaking to him unless he speaks first which surprisingly happens often.

The bard known as Venti often runs right up to you first thing whenever the traveller enters the church. You of course speak to him, after all even with your crush on the male it would be rather rude and ungodly to ignore him, not that you would want to anyways.

The bard often talks about anything that comes on his mind it seems, things such as if you tried wine or if you really lived in the church all day and night. Yes you've tried wine, only communal wine however, nothing compared to what the bard had drank in his nights at the winery. How do you know? He often came to the church doors late at night crying out to see you in his drunken state, slurring words and being very touchy. You of course always opened the doors as it was your job to help those in need and even with his constant self destructive habits, he's still someone who needs help. It's unknown rather the bard had a home or family so he usually slept in a pew on those nights, and on the other times he isn't drunk you aren't sure where he goes, though the traveller assures you he's fine.

Today was like many others, quiet and peaceful as you could see the sun's rays shining in through the large windows and the sound of the wind blowing gently outside. That morning Barbara informed you that she would be out for the next week, it was rather strange, she's never left the church that long, however she assured you it was just to spend time with family, with her older sister Jean. So you would be alone to care for the Cathedral which wasn't too hard, not a whole lot happens really.

Around noon the traveller came to the church asking for Barbara, you unfortunately had to inform the man that she was out for a week. He took it well and decided to leave however his bard friend seemed to not notice. After Aether left Venti as usual ran to you and started off on his usual conversations.

"So Y/N, are you really alone for a week? Like by yourself? I can imagine it'll be sooo lonely huh" He said in a slight teasing voice as you was both sat at a pew. "Yes, I'll be on my own however I have all I need for company, the winds Lord Barbatos bestowed upon the city is enough company and comfort" You replied knowing he was probably going to try to stay around, in a fantasy sure you would like him to stay.. and maybe do other th- No! You cannot think this way, this is sinful and will distract you from your purpose. Shaking her head some as you cleared your thoughts you noticed Venti as leaning over, his hand reaching up to your face, you move away some "What are you doing Venti?"you asked with a sigh as he giggled " your face is all red, what could be going through your mind? Nothing dirty I hope~! " he teased as you didn't notice. In embarrassment you stood up sighing "Venti I must ask you to leave as I need to clean the pews and return to my duties, maybe another time we can chat about something related to the church" you said to him with a bit of sass as he only smirked as he got up "Oh sure, I'll definitely be coming back to talk about Lord Barbatos~" he teased before leaving.

Later that night as you was already settled into your bed in the back of the Cathedral you started to close your eyes when you heard the all too familiar sound of someone knocking and banging against the large doors of the church. You thought about not even bothering with it being that your alone but after a few minutes the banging continued along with faint whining, sighing you got up in your silk robes and headed towards the front. You wore white beautiful sleeping robes, no they weren't see through, at least not unless gotten wet but if you remember correctly it's not supposed to rain so no worried right?

Just before you get to the door you hear a loud thunder strike! You looked at the windows and noticed the very heavy downpour, just as you were going to grumble about your outfit you heard the banging and ran to the door, almost forgot he was out there.

Unlocking and opening the large doors you see Venti, crumbled onto the stairs, his clothes soaking wet as he looked up at you pitifully "Y/N~ you took sooo long to get the door today... I'm all wet now.. " he whined, you couldn't help but to feel bad for the boy. After all it doesn't rain often here and definitely never stormed this bad in awhile. You reach down to help him up but only to pull you into the rain too. Great just what you needed, not even thinking on how translucent your outfit must be you're more focused on getting the drunken bard inside, helping him up and inside the church, the doors closing behind you. It's then now that you're soaking wet you noticed how cold the main Hall with the pews get at night, you decided he couldn't sleep here, he would catch a cold or worse. You walk him to the back where your room was, of course you couldn't sleep in the same bed so you where already thinking on taking Barbaras room, she wouldn't mind.

You set him down and start looking in your dresser for something wearable for him, of course after you already given him a towel to at least warm up with.

However the whole time you're digging through your clothes you could feel his eyes staring at you, almost forgetting your what used to be a pretty silk nightgown is now see through thanks to the rain. "Can you not stare so hard Venti? I'm trying to find something for you to wear" you say, not able to look at him in embarrassment.

He shakes his head a smile tugging on his lips as he leans in closer "No, it's just that you're so adorable.. you know that don't you? I'd love to hold you in my arms" the bard slurred as he was right up against you, you could feel his chest, did.. did he take his wet clothes off already??

You turn to face him to see he was only in boxers, your eyes couldn't help but betray you, looking at his body and especially the ever growing tent in his underwear.

"V-Venti! Why are yo-" Before you could argue he placed a finger over your lips, his eyes glowed as marking appeared on to his body, it was then when you could see him for who he was, as Lord Barbatos.

"Didn't I tell you earlier? I would come back to talk, of course it would be a bit selfish since it is about me~" He giggled as he was pressed against you, you could feel him poking you, these feelings of arousal was familiar but not all too familiar, yes you had a life of abstinence but you're human and of course would have those thoughts occasionally.

"Speechless? Not surprising, after all you are meeting the very Archon you've been worshiping all your life, tell me Y/N, do you want to please your Archon? To be my little follower? " he said with lust laced heavily in his voice. His tone was soft but filled with desire and want, you wanted him to kiss you so bad right now.

"L-Lord Barbatos... " you mumbled unable to form words, he let out a low groan at the name, it's been ages since he's been called by his true name, it only serves to intensify his lust. "Yes call me that more, your Lord, your Archon~" his soft lips crashing into yours, his hands was quick to pull the wet nightgown off, he didn't want you to get a cold now would he?

Your body felt hot to his touch, you felt sparks go off in your body whenever his hands moved across them, yet you didn't resist it, why should you? He is your Archon, all these years serving him, unaware he was always there, in plain sight.

He pushed you onto the bed, hovering over you, he is so pretty, his eyes.. his glowing tattoos, his face and everything, he truly was an Archon, your Archon.

You shiver under his gaze as you felt himself moving his mouth against your collarbone, your head feeling dizzy as he bites you harshly as you whimper slightly. A soft moan leaves your lips as he moves lower kissing and sucking on your neck, you gasp a bit in surprise, his hands wander over your body as he presses his chest against yours and you both feel heat spread through your bodies, a small whimper escaping your lips as his hands continue their path downwards, to your core.

It doesn't take long for him to find what he was looking for, his hands begin to push your hips upwards, wanting to feel the sensation of skin on skin between the two of you, you whimper once more, feeling a small nip on your neck as he begins to suck on it, you feel yourself arching your back as he continues to work his magic on you, you feel yourself becoming wetter and wetter, you could feel your legs shaking as you tried to keep yourself still, you could feel his fingers slipping inside you to feel the warmth inside you, it was exciting. Moaning out his name and whimpering for more "Ssshhh... I knew you'd like this~, just give me a moment, my muse" he said as his kisses made their way to your stomach, moving up your torso slowly. You moan quietly, your hands gripping his hair gently as your body trembles uncontrollably.

His slender fingers made quick work of you, it didn't take long for you get close already, moaning, whimpering and begging "My Lord, Barbatos please~! " but of course just before you could release he slipped his fingers out, giggling. He's still the same bard you met, a teasing man.

Before you could retaliate you felt his member press into you, whining as tears flowed, the Archon sympathized with you, whiping your tears as he whispered sweet nothings into your ear as he pushed further until he was fully into you.

As he began to move, it wasn't the pain that shocked you so much as the pleasure that made you tremble and let out moans, it was intoxicating really, the sensation was so overwhelming, he thrust harder as he held you tighter as you bucked underneath him, crying out as you gripped his shoulders, you couldn't seem to hold yourself still anymore, a mixture of pleasure and pain mixed inside you as his member went deeper and deeper.

You gasped, gasping loudly as you cried out from the pleasure, he grunted as he held your body firmly against his own.

"Won't you be my lover? My pretty little wife? The woman that'll bring the next Archon into this world~? " He said as his thrusts was harsh against your hips, groans left his lips as he gotten close.

"Beg for me, beg to be filled with my love, to be mine~" he groaned out as his eyes seemed to glow brighter.

"P-please Lord Barbatos, please f-fill me up! " Was all you could say before reaching your climax as well as his own, pushing himself deeper into you, everything happened so fast, he seemed to glow so bright, you fainted from all the stimulation.

.......

Your eyes fluttered open hearing the winds softly blow against the church, you felt sore before remembering last night, shooting up in bed quickly aching and regretting it as you held your stomach some. You noticed you're alone in your room, no sign of the bard.

You get up to get dressed and looked into your mirror to see all the markings, hickeys, bites and.. is that an Ameno mark? On her neck was a glowing mark for the Ameno Archon.

After getting dressed and cleaning up you opened the doors to the church for the regulars to come in, and not to surprising a certain bard was sitting on the stairs with his Lyre, singing a song of love.

[vergess]

Ken Klippenstein has published a copy of the manifesto apparently found on Luigi Mangione's person. You can read it here:

Whether Mr Mangione actually killed the CEO of UHC is currently unknown, but the world's most incompetent law enforcers over at the NYPD would certainly like us to all believe in his guilt long before any trial. With that in mind, I hesitate to spread the manifesto, as it may be seen as an "airtight confession" by people unfamiliar with how copycats and false accusations by the pigs work.

Nevertheless, the manifesto is out there now, and I see no reason to pretend otherwise.

A copy has been put beneath the cut on this post, for on-tumblr reading if you don't wish to click offsite.

Please note that because the manifesto was handwritten on paper, it was all one block paragraph. All line breaks in the copy below were added by me, not by Mr Mangione. I have also added the first names to his citations for ease of research for those wishing to learn more about the broken healthcare system in the US. These names are marked by [square brackets].

“To the Feds, I'll keep this short, because I do respect what you do for our country. To save you a lengthy investigation, I state plainly that I wasn't working with anyone. This was fairly trivial: some elementary social engineering, basic CAD, a lot of patience. The spiral notebook, if present, has some straggling notes and To Do lists that illuminate the gist of it. My tech is pretty locked down because I work in engineering so probably not much info there. I do apologize for any strife of traumas but it had to be done. Frankly, these parasites simply had it coming. A reminder: the US has the #1 most expensive healthcare system in the world, yet we rank roughly #42 in life expectancy. United is the [indecipherable] largest company in the US by market cap, behind only Apple, Google, Walmart. It has grown and grown, but as our life expectancy? No the reality is, these [indecipherable] have simply gotten too powerful, and they continue to abuse our country for immense profit because the American public has allwed them to get away with it. Obviously the problem is more complex, but I do not have space, and frankly I do not pretend to be the most qualified person to lay out the full argument. But many have illuminated the corruption and greed (e.g.: [Amy] Rosenthal, [Michael] Moore), decades ago and the problems simply remain. It is not an issue of awareness at this point, but clearly power games at play. Evidently I am the first to face it with such brutal honesty.”

[garden-bug]

Thrawn nation this fanfic needs more attention because it’s mind-blowingly fucking brilliant.

Essentially, Thrawn gets picked up by the corrupt Palpatine-led Republic on a planet in the unknown regions, and says he’s a contemporary artist. The republic is divided by bigotry and xenophobia and corruption and Thrawn makes art and literally starts a revolution. He and Eli make movies too. They live in an apartment. There’s Twitter. They befriend Obi-Wan who is fucking hilarious and Hera is an activist and the OCs are wonderful and it’s just great ok. Thrawn’s history with the Ascendancy is complicated. Palpatine is a terrible guy. Thrawn thinks he can get the best of Palpatine alone and shuts out his friends and becomes the worst version of himself, there’s angst, but it’s done so well. Thrawn’s characterisation is also just amazing.

So yeah sometimes I’ll just be living my life and I’ll remember that someone came up with the best alternate universe fic I’ve ever read in my life.

For context I’m an English major and extremely snobby about writing quality but let me tell you this is insanely good.

Guys I’m just saying this fic is a masterpiece and you’re all sitting on it.

It’s rated E but explicit scenes can be skipped JUST GIVE IT A GO GUYS PLEASE it should literally be top on a03 in the Thrawn tag I don’t even care. Complex and well written AU fics like this never get the attention they deserve and I’m not having it. Pls rb if you’ve read it or just to support fanfic writers idc 💛

[introvertpanda21]

DP x Batman x DCU Story Plot

(Long Rant)

Okay, I have another story idea in my head that I need to rant about. To anyone who reads this, just know that my knowledge about these fandoms came directly from fanfiction. Well, I have some knowledge of Danny Phantom's fandom, only watched like three or four episodes in the past. Do I know anything canon, absolutely not, but like that saying 'This is my headcanon'. Okay, I'm getting off-topic, I'm just gonna start and who knows maybe I'll one day write a fanfic based on these ideas of mine.

Okay, hopefully, my ranting makes sense, (excuse the grammar mistakes) but anyway, the idea in my mind starts with basically the ghost portal and the situation with Danny happening, and the whole ghosts coming out and Danny stopping them like the show basically. Okay, but one day the G.I.W. comes to Amity Park, and initially they are useless like in the show. However, within time they became competent, (I don't like them but, they are relevant to the plot) The Fentons, Jack, and Maddie become like lead scientists since they are obsessed with their work and the G.I.W. found their weapons vitals. (They aren't good parents to Danny and Jazz; I don't like how obsessed they are with their work that they basically are emotionally neglectful to Danny and Jazz [I know it's a show]) Anyways, the Fentons and the G.I.W. start to learn and discover that due to the portal that opened to the Infinite Relams, the ectoplasm had affected the citizens of Amity Park. Since they basically lived between the line of the living and the dead. This caused them to experience changes in their biology and in some cases, a number of them started to develop abilities or powers and are called liminals. (Though only those who have the most exposure to ectoplasm develop powers like young adults to babies) Like its more complex, but it's too much work to think more about it at the moment,

Oh, also the Lazarus pits are basically corrupt ectoplasm which is gonna be relevant to the plot. Since the G.I.W. learned about the possibility that ectoplasm can extend lifespans, the G.I.W. decided to use this to profit off. Basically, by creating the Anti-Ecto Acts and the biased sources about the ghosts and the Infinite Realms, they made anyone with ectoplasm in their system be considered non-being. (I haven't thought more about it, but basically, just excuses to justify experimenting on ghosts and Amity parkers.)

With this in mind, the G.I.W. decides to wipe Amity Park off the map and take all of Amity citizens whether dead or alive along with the ghosts that were residing in Amity Park as experimentation subjects. Oh, and the Amity citizens in the past tried to contact the Justice League, but they never got an answer, unknown to them that the reason was that the G.I.W. was basically causing a media blackout to prevent any outsiders from knowing what was happening. (A lot of Amity Parkers don't really have a lot of trust in the heroes, which is pretty understandable because of their experience.)

Amity Park basically gets wiped off the map and many of the people of Amity Park tried to fight back, but it was to no avail as a number of them basically got killed and those alive were taken as test subjects.

Oh, I forgot during this time Danny is the Ghost King but like technically not, honestly haven't thought about it more. Or like he's just a prince or maybe just normal Danny. (I haven't thought of the small details like this)

Anyways, back to the plot, months pass or like a year or two, don't know, but several Amity Parkers and some ghosts managed to escape during the G.I.W. attack and some of them were previously held in faculties by the G.I.W. but were rescued. Okay, so they are basically in hiding because they have really bad trust issues in trusting regular humans. (Which is reasonable, since the last time they trusted regular humans, it ended with them now being hunted by the G.I.W. and the government.) So, now they are struggling to survive and want to rescue the rest of their friends and families. So, basically, tensions are high among themselves.

(Also, I have this idea that Amity Parkers are decent fighters, not to the level of experienced heroes, but they can still put up a fight. Especially since ectoplasm grants them like super strength and their fingernails can turn into claws. Also, the young ones have developed like powers. They can also heal much faster. I don't know if this is canon in the show or fanon, but like the ghosts, they also started to share the culture of fighting against each other, but in a friendly sparring way.)

Also, during this time, the Justice League was getting reports of green-deformed monsters attacking different cities. This causes worries among the heroes since many of their attacks do no damage to them. (Batman gonna be up nonstop trying to do research on them) The only heroes that could really stop them were the Dark Justice members. So, anyway, the Justice League realized that they have a potential earth crisis and are trying to figure out why it's happening. (I don't fully have a full explanation for the reason, could be the Ancients or Observers in Infinite Realms sending them because of what the G.I.W. is doing. Or the G.I.W. is causing instability between the Infinite Realms and Earth due to their experiments on ectoplasm.)

So, while the heroes are trying to figure it out, back to the Amity citizens, a number of them are currently hiding in Gotham. Given that Gotham has ectoplasm even if it's slightly different. (ectoplasm lore?) Also, Lady Gotham offers them refuge in her city. And as fuck up Gotham is, Amity Park citizens are much pretty unfazed by the city since they lived in Amity Park.

Anyways, Tucker is currently living in Gotham with Sam and Wes after escaping from one of the G.I.W. facilities. The boy is traumatized due to the fuck up experiments he went through. But, he's determined to rescue not only Danny, Jazz, Elle, and Dan (I know, he's supposed to be like Danny's evil clone or something along the line, but the kid gonna get redemption, though he de-aged to a three-year-old. Well, the scenario in my head is that they all sort of de-aged, Danny and Elle are like seven and Jazz is like eleven) He also wants to save the others who are still being held as prisoners.

I haven't thought more plotwise, but I have been thinking of different scenarios. So, basically, Tucker gets told that he needs to get close to Tim Drake, one of the kids of Bruce Wayne in order to get access to some blueprint or machination or something in one of their offices or factories that would help them in rescuing the others. (Don't fully know science logic) He does so with the target in mind, but he doesn't expect to fall in love with Tim. My mind wants some romance, and I find the ship kind of cute, they probably enjoy each other company. Anyways, Tucker is now fighting against his feelings and his loyalty to the group, which wants to settle the score against G.I.W and the government.

Also, I have to concept that most of the Batfam are fully ecto contaminated with ectoplasm in their body, which is different from other Gothamites, who only have the scent of ectoplasm. So, like Tucker is literally fighting the urge to question how the hell Tim has ectoplasm in his system especially since it feels like corrupted. And especially after he met briefly with Jason, Tucker probably questioned how the fuck did Tim's brother exactly died and if they know what ectoplasm is, and if he should tell them that they are technically considered non-beings according to the laws. I also have scenarios of Batfamily moments, they have their traumas, but they love each other and are protective of each other. (My family is dysfunctional as it is, whether it fanon the Batfamily truly love each other even if they have their moments.)

Another concept I have is related to Wes, (I know that boy is like a cameo for like one episode or whatever) He's part of the Phantom group, and his experience in one of the G.I.W. bases was the worst. He went through some experiments with Lazarus' water, which basically affected his body like Jason, and now he had to experience Pit Madness. He sort of dies during these experiments and the G.I.W. scientists use Lazarus's water to see the effects or something along the lines. Especially since Ra al Ghul is one of their sponsors, since he's obsessed with immortality so, he is willing to do anything to achieve it.

For now, this is sort of the rough beginning my brain has for this story idea. Maybe I'll make a part two if my brain decides to incorporate more ideas.

[victorian-robot]

Was anyone else like seriously irked by Arcane’s handling of the Machine Herald?

Like I love this show, but I loved season one for the complex relationship between character motives and morality. I liked what they did with Caitlyn in season 2 as well where grief drives her to make decisions that are morally questionable on a good day.

But then we get to the Machine Herald, who unlike characters like Jinx or Vi, was actually written in lol with ambiguous morals, and… he’s causing the apocalypse. He’s straight up going to murder anyone who doesn’t agree with him. Which is going to be most of humanity.

Moreover, Viktor is a pacifist! Like the show confirmed this earlier and he’s gonna be the most murdery person in show other than the actual personification of glorified warfare?! Even with the hexcore, there are several elements of his ideals showing through its not like that went away! Before they attack he even takes the stance that he won’t make anyone “evolve” who doesn’t want to… but apparently that means he’s gonna kill them instead?!

This man was perfectly positioned for a cool exploration of what makes us human and what our flaws are and the moral complexity innate to removing said flaws combined with a heartbreaking plot of how Viktor was changed to achieve these goals in a way that left Jayce alone and hurting. Or maybe even a happy ending if he came to the conclusion that it wasn’t worth it to sacrifice his identity and connections.

But like damn am I mad that instead they just gave this guy a more unambiguous villainy than: a literal drug lord running a city through addiction, a corrupt police chief working for organized crime, a woman who believes strength comes directly from the capacity for violence, and many more Arcane characters who were way harder to make morally complex than man who makes life saving prosthetics but overprescribes anti anxiety meds (lol version) or determined idealist who breaks rules partially transformed by an unknown force (arcane version)

[aroace-wizard]

Intro post

(I made it in the style of an scp article because @skyethesapphicwolfwizard gave me the idea to make one but this version is updated)

Item #: SCP-000

Object Class: Apollyon

Codename: Artemis

Description: SCP-000, codenamed Artemis, is a reality-bending entity with a tall, lanky, humanoid form featuring distinctive physical features including purple hair, green eyes, and tattoos resembling eye outlines covering its body. The tattoos pulsate when SCP-000 speaks. Artemis seems to be between 7 and 8 feet tall. They typically adorn in a black jacket displaying an accurate hourglass that corresponds to the current time. Notably, it consistently wears an obsidian crown, which, when attempts are made to remove it, results in the loss of D-Class personnel. When Artemis voluntarily removes the crown, black horns manifest in its place. However, it possesses a true form that manifests when SCP-000 chooses to reveal its god-like nature. In this form, Artemis undergoes several notable transformations: its eyes become a swirling mix of colors—green, red, blue, purple, and yellow—containing visible hourglasses; its hair transitions to a wine-red hue; the obsidian crown sharpens at its ends; fingers elongate into claws; and corruption appears on its arms, extending just beyond the elbows. Additionally, its teeth sharpen, and individuals with above-average hearing have reported hearing faint whispers emanating from SCP-000, leading to mental instability in those with weaker minds.

Discovery: SCP-000 was discovered during an exploration of the void, a dimension where it appears to be omnipotent. Its origin and the method of its arrival in our reality remain unknown. SCP-000 is self-proclaimed as the god of time, stories, and lies, as well as the lord of timelines, wielding near-omnipotent powers within its domain.

Anomalous Abilities:Temporal Manipulation: Artemis exhibits control over time, enabling it to manipulate temporal events. Lie Detection: SCP-000 possesses the ability to detect falsehoods and lies. Omnipotence in the Void: Within the void, Artemis showcases near-omnipotent capabilities.

Containment: Despite multiple attempts, SCP-000 is deemed impossible to contain. Efforts to restrict or limit its movements have proven futile, indicating a level of autonomy beyond Foundation control. Interaction with Artemis requires exceptional mental fortitude, and personnel should exercise extreme caution. Removal attempts of the obsidian crown result in the loss of D-Class personnel.

Effects on Interacting Entities: Physiological effects from interacting with SCP-000 are typically absent unless intentionally induced by Artemis. The entity exhibits multiple personalities, including Ace, Alex, Que, and Wren, and claims to hear voices in its head. In its true form, SCP-000 induces mental instability in individuals with weaker minds through faint, haunting whispers.

Origin: Artemis, originally an artificer, discovered a method to ascend to godhood and applied the process to itself. The details of this transformation remain unclear.

Additional Notes: SCP-000's true form reveals an additional layer of complexity to its anomalous nature, heightening the challenges posed by its interactions with reality. Further research into Artemis's origins and motivations is ongoing, with extreme caution advised for all personnel involved.