#what lies beyond the shadows; headcanons

[retrocognizantrecreant]

Ugh.

I regret giving him a long name. Anyway here is his handwriting in aurebesh

[fleuredelys]

Tag dump 1/?

◟༺☥༻◞ prophecy is nothing but a vicious lie ┊headcanon.┊ ◟༺☥༻◞ will the prophecy manifest? ┊addendum.┊ ◟༺☥༻◞ free the souls trapped in dark worlds ┊reference.┊ ◟༺☥༻◞ will it be a closure to this myth book?┊study.┊ ◟༺☥༻◞ true form revealed at last ┊reflection.┊ ◟༺☥༻◞ dusk has brought dawn of my fears┊musings.┊ ◟༺☥༻◞ split the skies to rage against night ┊aesthetic.┊ ◟༺☥༻◞ as whispers ride the wind in my ears┊music.┊ ◟༺☥༻◞ halos of divine are fading ┊meme.┊ ◟༺☥༻◞ starlight faint as prayers I bear with love ┊ask.┊ ◟༺☥༻◞ lament of a cursed maiden ┊thread.┊ ◟༺☥༻◞ pierce through the veils of lies ┊ic.┊ ◟༺☥༻◞ reverberations of tidal waves ┊open.┊ ◟༺☥༻◞ beckoning of the sky ┊dash comment.┊ ◟༺☥༻◞ crown destined by fate ┊dash game.┊ ◟༺☥༻◞ what lays beyond the dusk ┊ooc.┊ ◟༺☥༻◞ to fuck around is thy human right ┊crack.┊ ◟༺☥༻◞ o' stars; heed my calling ┊psa.┊ ◟༺☥༻◞ connections of the righteous one ┊promotions.┊ ◟༺☥༻◞ let the gale become one with me ┊self promo.┊ ◟༺☥༻◞ gifts to prevail into eternity ┊keepsake.┊ ◟༺☥༻◞ memories engraved in shadows of the past ┊queue.┊

[juricel]

god your yandere smc lives rent free in my head i wanna punch him, kick him in the shin and then give him a lil kiss

also if you're feeling up for it and your requests are open, would you mind writing some headcanons about yandere smc w/ a reader who is defiant but not really in the "kicking, yelling, screaming" way but in the "i will do my best to make your life miserable and inconvenience you as much as possible " (think refusing to talk or engage, entertaining herself in isolation, snarky backtalk; very much "cat making eye contact with you while pushing a glass off the table" energy, defiant yet still subdued)

bonus points if the reader is usually an affectionate person and continues to be like that w/ candy apple (hugs her/pats her head, speaks nicely and sweetly to her, treats her like a lil sis/daughter)

thank you so much for your time!! your writing is amazing!!

a/n: i'm flattered! and please do feel free to do so, anon... he more than deserves it with how he's been treating the reader in my fics.

— yandere! shadow milk cookie x defiant! reader hcs

໒꒰՞ ܸ. .ܸ՞꒱ა ۪ ׂ CONTENT WARNING: manipulation, physical abuse, heavy possessive and obssessive behavior, unhealthy relationship, implied forced established relationship, mentioned and implied mindbreak, stalking, potential ooc.

𖦁‎ oh, he would adore your defiance! shadow milk cookie loves games, and he would view your defiance as such and daresay, it certainly has became his favorite game, even taking over the throne of his most beloved hobby of breaking cookies apart and observing them falling down the never-ending rabbit hole from illusions.

𖦁 your distant attitude towards him wouldn't faze him whatsoever either, and if anything, his lovesickness would delude himself into thinking it was a natural reaction of yours from being in love; oh, you're not listening? oh, that is no biggie for him! he'll simply blabber your ears off, isolating yourself? has his dear forgotten? he is an omniscient presence within earthbread and his kingdom, there is no way to flee from him, he'll just trail along behind you! being a petulant thing against him? oh, that's adorable! surely, you jest! breaking one his precious gifts he spent his time on solely for you? oh, silly little you! how clumsy you are! being such a nice lover, he'll put it back together! you didn't mean to break that, don't you? you didn't, right? he'd break your arms. regardless of how you much you pay no heed to his presence, he is an everlasting existence and will forever be right beside you! there is no escaping him and his sight, it is just as fate concluded, after all!

𖦁 candy apple cookie—although, you treat her nicely—doesn't mean you're still exempted from her trickery: for her undying loyalty to shadow milk cookie overshadows anything to her; she'd allow you to braid her hair, all the while inquiring you why you loathe shadow milk cookie when he's just protecting you from the cookies outside, in love even! in that sickenly sweet tone of hers dripping with deceit. she'd even ask you to come with her for something she proclaimed was in dire need of help for only to lead you to back to shadow milk cookie with a cheerful face, giddily probbing shadow milk cookie if she did good.

𖦁 to shadow milk cookie, your defiance is none but a mere game to him, however, the moment you went against him and betrayed him by helping pure vanilla cookie within his spire? oh, that is when he actually takes your advances seriously. why are /you/ helping that pesky little thief? can't you comprehend that he's punishing him for taking what was his? don't tell him that you fell for that querulous cookie's lies? yes, surely, pure vanilla cookie did something to you that turned you against him, truly! what a fiend, stealing his soul jam and then you? oh, he is gonna crumble him into pieces! he vows on the witches the moment he's done with him he would be beyond recognization. you, on the other hand, unmistakably needed some tweaking—yes, he'd need to find a way for you to not do that again, surely, his sweet dear wouldn't mind being confined, would they?

a/n: extremely short compared to my other works but i do hope its fine.

[himasgod]

Is it okay if I request a Riddle x Reader scenario/headcanons with a reader who was raised in a polar opposite way than he was? (I.E. neglected/ignored)

I’ve had this idea for a while and would really like to see what someone does with it!

Thank you so much!

RIDDLE X READER

Where you have been raised ignored and avoided

How would Riddle treat you if you had been raised in a way that was completely the opposite of his, and you fell ill, saying nothing, accustomed to keeping silent?

Hello! This may contain some angst, and perhaps someone might relate. You're not alone babe, I hope this read help you. If it's a sensitive topic that you think might be harmful to read, please don't read it! Thank you very much!

You didn't know how much you'd learned to keep quiet until someone decided to listen to you.

Since you arrived at NRC, you'd adapted like a shadow. You didn't bother anyone. You didn't interrupt anyone. You didn't ask for help. You stayed in your classes, you did your homework, and when you were sick, you just… carried on as if nothing had happened. That's how you'd done it your whole life.

Because no one at home would have noticed. Because you didn't know anyone could.

And then Riddle Rosehearts arrived.

The strict one. The dreaded housewarden of Heartslabyul. The one everyone tried to avoid when they were about to break a rule.

But you never broke any rules. So he never scolded you. He just watched you. From afar, at first. Silently, like you did with the world.

It was a cloudy afternoon. The sky was weeping a light, steady rain that fogged the common room windows. You were in the far corner, trying to concentrate on a book you couldn't read because the paragraphs were moving in front of your eyes. You had chills, your bones ached, and your eyelids felt like lead.

You didn't complain. You didn't say anything. But Riddle noticed.

He approached slowly, closing the book he was holding.

"How long have you been like this?"

It took you a moment to look up. His tone wasn't harsh, but it wasn't gentle either. It was a strange balance… as if he were trying to take care of you without frightening you.

"I'm fine," you lied, the first instinct of someone who has spent their entire life being their own refuge.

He frowned slightly. Not from impatience. From… concern.

"Did you eat anything today?"

The question disarmed you. Because no one asked that. Ever.

"I wasn't hungry," you said, lowering your gaze, as if answering were in itself a sin.

Riddle sighed softly. He walked to the nearest table and returned, minutes later, with a steaming cup of tea. He placed it in front of you, saying nothing more.

"Honey, ginger, cinnamon. I won't argue with you. Take it."

Something in the way he spoke wasn't imposing. It was firm, yes… but not to control you. To take care of you.

And that broke you a little inside.

No one made tea for you. No one remembered your tastes. No one insisted with such silent stubbornness on doing something nice for you.

You forced yourself to take the cup. It was warm, soft on your throat, and for a moment, you felt you could breathe. Just a little. Only there. Only with him.

Minutes passed without either of you speaking. He returned to his book, at your side. You concentrated on drinking slowly, feeling the liquid return some color to your cheeks.

You didn't know how to thank him. Or if you even should. Because thanking him implied that this was weird. Strange. And deep down, you didn't want it to be.

You wanted someone, for once, to see you without you having to scream to exist.

"Why are you doing this?" you finally asked, breaking your own silence.

Riddle closed the book. He didn't answer immediately.

"Because I know what it looks like to be unwell and not say anything," he said slowly.

"I was like that too. My mother just... it's something complicated. Trey and Chenya helped me a lot."

You looked at him. And for the first time, you understood beyond the rules. He had been like you. Only he had reacted to pain with anger like in his overblot, while you had reacted with silence.

"I'm not angry with you," he continued. "I'm angry at everyone who should have taught you that you can ask for help."

That sentence was like a knife in your memory. Like an open wound of things you never had: someone to sit next to you, someone who noticed, someone to say, "You're not alone."

You felt a lump in your throat. You hid it. As always. But Riddle looked at you as if he could see beyond your barriers.

And instead of asking you to talk, he simply said,

"You can stay here until you feel better. No one will bother you."

After that, it started happening more often.

He left you cups of tea in the common room when you were late. Sometimes he'd pass you his notes without you asking. He made sure you ate, even if it was just a piece of fruit. He didn't yell at you. He didn't pressure you. He didn't force you to change.

He was just there.

And you, little by little, began to respond.

You made him some tea when you noticed his eyes were tired from studying so much. He was surprised, but didn't say anything. He just accepted it, with one of those smiles that lasted a second but left a mark.

One day, you fell asleep without realizing it, over your book. You woke up with a blanket over your shoulders. It smelled of roses and mint. Riddle had already left, but the warmth in your chest lasted for hours.

And then you understood: he wasn't just a housewarden with strict rules.

He was learning to care for someone by choice. And you… you were learning what it meant to be cared for.

Your fever rose higher than expected one night. You hadn't wanted to say anything, as always.

But when Riddle came looking for you in your bedroom and found you half-trembling, staring blankly at the sheets soaked with sweat, something in him snapped.

"Why didn't you tell me?!" he exclaimed.

"I didn't mean to disturb…" you murmured, barely audible.

"Disturb!" he repeated, "You are important, do you understand that? What you feel matters. What you need matters."

Your head, your body, your soul ached. But that last sentence… that one stuck with you.

"You are important."

And you cried.

Silently. Without words. Silent tears that Riddle didn't interrupt. He just gently wiped them away, one by one, with a handkerchief he kept in his jacket.

He spent that night by your side. He didn't leave. He stayed with you, changing the soaked towels in your forehead, watching your breathing, caressing your forehead with a tenderness that seemed alien to his world of rules.

"I won't let you go through this alone again," he whispered in the early morning.

And you said it too, without words. Just with your hand clasped in his, with the strength of someone who has waited too long to be touched gently.

The recovery was slow, but different this time.

Not because the fever was lighter, but because you weren't alone. Riddle was there. Not as a student or housewarden. Not as an authority figure. But as someone who, like you, had lived a childhood of extremes.

And who was now learning to give love awkwardly, but truly.

You taught him the silence that heals. He taught you the words that warm.

And between the two of you, in the spaces where before there had been only emptiness, something new began to be born.

It felt like home.

[yanderederee]

hi hii, just saw your new event and- wow✨

wanted to ask if i may join in with ran and rindou :3

Thank you so so much for participating and requesting for this event lovelies!!♡ (sorry if my inbox status is hard to read;-;) ! I really hope you enjoy my headcanons!!♡

yandere mbti event page : here!

Ran Haitani - CAML

Cruel:Aware:Manipulative:Lenient

Ran can sometimes teeter between being reverent and Cruel, but more times than not, I believe Ran is often harsh.

Loves to praise his darling and spoil them rotten, but Ran is sadistic, his heart just pounds watching his dalring cry♡

Not cruel like Hanma; Ran is Cruel in the way that he likes when things make you mad or teasing you too far. He tries not to be the reviving end of your wrath for sake of wanting to be on your good side… but it does turn him on a little.

You’re just so cute when you scream at him for flipping your skirt up to “check what his lucky color for the day is”. (Any other oho asa horoscope followers?)

Always makes up with you for his cruel deeds by doing more kind acts. Again, he teeters reverent in the way he praises everything about you, has your back in every decision you make and fulfills your every wish no matter who what’s at stake.

Ran’s hyper-aware of little changes that go on behind your expressions. Ran can read you like a preschool book. There’s no point in hiding anything from him; because he will point out your lies and force you into telling him everything anyway.

Also isn’t one who likes to falsify who you are, or how you feel about him. He’s quite charismatic anyway, so as long as long as he’s careful, he doesn’t need to worry too much. He’s confident in being able to make you fall in love with him with personality and looks alone.

Ran has never considered his actions as wrong. Or, he does, but doesn’t care. He hurts people everyday for any minor fault he deems worthy.

So when he reasons that he will do anything to protect you? Hurting, killing, dismembering, or mutilating—nothing is beyond unreasonable, for your sake.

Ran is manipulative as hell.

To circle back, Ran would rather stay on your good side, if possible. He’s not beyond being honest with you about his delinquencies, but Ran likes lying about the truth.

Ran likes to lie and tease you. “You saw someone outside your window last night? It was probably just a shadow playing a trick on you~.” It Definitely wasn’t him. “You’re so cute when you’re delirious~ maybe I should come over and watch you sleep, just in case… fufu, I’m kidding doll.”

Similarly to how he wants to be on your good side, Ran will be choosingly Lenient with you.

Loves the idea of you ribboned and cuffed to his room with only a cute piece of lingerie on at all times—- but he decides that can wait for worse case scenario. He’d rather you live youthful and fully, experiencing days challenges with him by your side.

* If you start getting too close to realizing his obsessive craze for you, he gets pretty harsh with his gaslighting. So what if you caught some guy with braids in an ally beating your coworker to death after your shift? You couldn’t prove it was him, because it wasn’t him. You understand how mean it is to blame someone for murder right? So stop looking at him like he was some damn ghost.

* But if the cat’s out of the bag, it’s out. If he ever becomes discovered, I can see him changing into CAHS personality type. Forced to become honest, and restricting you into become more akin to a pet than a person. He would like to delay this change as far as he can, but that’s entirely dependent on you.

Rindou Haitani - RAHS

Reverent:Aware:Honest:Strict

Rindou HATES being mean to his darling!! When Rindou falls in love, his whole heart is in it. When you make an appearance in his life and inevitably change his way of thinking, Rindou is absorbed with being loved by you.

Similar to Baji in the way his Reverence is less like worshipping and more like protecting. Rindou thinks you’re perfect; that you can do no wrong, and redeemable in all things, including hurting him.

Rindou may have a few daydream-delusions of his darling falling for him like a princess would to her knight in shining armor, wishing you would look at him like he hung the stars, and crave him the same way he craves you.

But he acknowledges reality, and realizes he has to be genuinely careful in approaching you in order for that to happen. Rindou is perceptive and aware of your genuine emotions and thoughts of him.

With a reputation like his, he knows you might have some concerns with being around him. So, he actively makes an effort in showing you who he is.

Rindou likes being genuine with you. As his darling, he feels you may be able to truly understand him, if you’re given the chance…

So, Rindou finds being manipulative rather difficult. He’ll honestly own up to his poor behaviors, and ask for your forgiveness. Now, this can obviously depend on the behavior in question, but Rindou is careful enough to hold himself back while in your company, or with what behaviors reach your ears.

Also likes to keep the image you see of him in a positive light. He might not be perfect, but he was real with you and made you feel genuinely safe.

Now.. hear me out. Rindou is most Strict than he likes to believe. He’s not overbearing like locking you up and keeping you to himself.

But he does gift you cute pieces of jewelry often. They’re always so cute, you end up always wearing at least one or multiple of the Tracking Device imbedded accessories.

He knows your every move. Your every calorie intake. Your every breath is being recorded. It’s all for your safety, of course.

Is very particular with who you spend your time with or who you speak to. Is the type to secretly beat the shit out of Anyone he doesn’t recognize who talks to you too long, takes up too much of your time, or acts remotely unpleasant towards you.

Rindou is less thrilled by the idea of locking you away, if only because he knows the action will make you dislike him. And all Rindou ever wants is to feel loved by you…

[inkwolvesandcoffee]

Coffee & Salted Caramel (Dad Best Friend!John Price Dark Romantic Headcanons)

CoD ML

It takes a moment for John to realise it’s you standing in front of him. However, after carefully scrutinising your face under the guise of a polite smile, there’s a spark of recognition in his pretty blue eyes.

In his defence, the last time he saw you was about ten years ago when you were an awkward teen just entering puberty. So little could have prepared him for seeing you now, blossomed into a beautiful young woman.

He doesn’t go in for a hug or a handshake, though it looks like the latter. Nevertheless, as soon as you’ve placed your hand in his, John brings your knuckles to his lips and kisses them. “My lady.”

The dark satisfaction blossoming in his chest due to your flabbergasted expression is carefully concealed behind a cheeky smile. A smile which is easily mistaken as amused, kind.

Without any other implications than friendship.

Picks you up from work if you’re working late and during winter. If you’re working the morning shift and therefore have to be there early, he’ll escort you to make sure you’re alright. At first John tells himself he’s simply being a gentleman, a proper captain. Moreover, he’s doing his best friend a service by keeping his daughter safe.

From men like him.

To keep you for himself.

Your father may or may not have let slip you go to the gym. A comment in which John saw a golden opportunity to get closer to you and reconnect. Or, rather, truly connect.

So you now find yourself three times a week working out alongside your father’s best friend, who kindly picks you up and drops you off after each session.

Who you’ve noticed glaring and sometimes even downright scowling at the other men there. Especially when he’s acting as your personal trainer.

Ngl, he makes for a good workout partner. Of course he respects your boundaries, but gradually tries to push you beyond them. Henceforth, when one week you swear you won’t be able to do a deadlift with 10kg on either side, you find yourself more than capable the next.

Though he’d never admit it, John loves showing off his strength and size. He might be middle aged, but he sure is still as capable, if not more, than in his younger years.

Another thing he’d keep a secret is how you wearing a choker tempts him to submit fully to instinct, play dangerously with the thought of claiming or, rather, owning you.

Frequently takes you out for hikes, picnics (weather permitting), trips around the country, and coffee. Whereas your father regards the outings with his best friend as enrichment because you two don’t get to do that stuff and acts of kindness, John actually sees them as unofficial dates.

Small moments during which he can properly fancy himself your partner.

You sing as a side hustle and have landed a performance at John’s favourite pub. Now, being a good friend to your father and simply being kind, he offers for you to stay overnight at his place. After all, the venue is too far from home to make it there afterwards safely.

Despite being seated in the back amongst the shadows, you feel John’s eyes on you throughout the show. Little do you know he occasionally closes his eyes, shutting out the world to enjoy your voice. It’s a lullaby that temporarily puts the rage seething beneath his skin to rest.

Gets grumpy when a guy approaches you to strike up a conversation after you’re done.

John knows you’re your own person and yet here he is, sulking and brooding over a pint because of a nagging sense he knows is unjustified. For fuck’s sake, you’re his best friend’s daughter! What the hell would you do with a guy his age, damaged beyond repair and haunted by ghosts?

Yet, he stands before you in no time and roughly grabs your wrist, dragging you behind him towards the exit. “On your feet. We’re leaving.”

On the way to his house, his grip remains iron-like regardless of how you struggle, whimper, beg, and try to pry his hand loose. Nonetheless, he remains as quiet, as tight-lipped, as when you ask him about his years in the army. Only when you call out his name with an ugly sob does he let go.

You flinch and step back when he turns around and comes closer, mortified by his fuming expression. John takes a deep breath, wishing he could kick himself in the face now that he finally sees how he hurt you. Moreover, in spite of his own disregard of rules and protocol, this type of behaviour would put any good captain to shame. That is, when directed at a loved one rather than a teammate. “I… I’m sorry.”

“What’s this about?” His gaze remains steady on the ground, even when you come closer to bridge the distance between you. “What’s gotten into you?”

“I don’t know, poppet. Maybe it’s just the pints that get me a bit violent. Drank one too many.”

“John-“

“Let’s go home.” Hands tucked into his pockets, he turns on his heel and starts walking again. He’d hold your hand, but after that little incident he’s too terrified to touch you. More than that, he grows bleak at the thought this or similar incidents which perhaps have yet to occur will eventually lead to you resenting him.

With you, he doesn’t want to be Captain Price.

He wants to be a man rather than a soldier.

A man properly caring for his girl by making sure she doesn’t want for anything.

Trying to sweep the incident on the street under the rug once you’re at his place, John stands in the doorway to the guest room as he watches you rummage in your bag. “Something wrong, love? Forgot your post-concert snack stash?”

You share his smile, the idea of glaring at him evaporated the moment you lock eyes. “Very funny, John.”

“I can make us something, though, if you’re still hungry. I ain’t a good cook, but I think I can manage scrambled eggs on an English muffin. Sober enough for that, at least.”

“I’m alright. Still, thanks. Turns out, I forgot my pyjamas.”

“You can lend a shirt. Let me find one.”

A wee while later, after being occupied a little too long with picking something for you to wear and distracted by the strain in his pants, he returns with a hoodie. He’d rather you be too hot than cold.

“Arms up, doll face.” Without questioning the nickname, you do as he says. His breath hitches as you wriggle into his hoodie, staring up at him with doe eyes.

It takes every ounce of self-control not to pick you up, twirl you around, and tuck you into bed. Say what you will, but beneath the lust there’s the genuine want to take care of you.

Distrustful of his hands, he crosses his arms and nods to the bed. “Hit the hay. I’ll make sure there’s breakfast, so don’t worry about that.”

“Thank you. Goodnight, John.”

He almost breaks, almost reaches out to pat your head to satisfy himself as much as he allows himself. But he doesn’t. “Goodnight, love.”

Nothing could have prepared him for seeing you do Pilates in the morning.

He stops in the doorway, frozen in place by fascination and the feeling he hasn’t been able to shake off since seeing you again for the first time in forever. Honestly, seeing you stretch and bend this way and that doesn’t help him think any clearer either. In fact, it only throws him deeper down the rabbit hole created by the fantasy of you pinned beneath him, breathless and whimpering his name as he has his way with you.

And he just dealt with his morning wood before coming downstairs.

As silent as a ghost, John slips back upstairs to calm himself down yet again, only leaving the bedroom when he hears you in the shower.

We all know perfectly well why I had to include this particular gif. And no, I’m not sorry.😝😹

Using the towels he prepared for you last night before dragging his ossified arse to bed.

Breakfast is elaborate with croissants, freshly brewed coffee (and your favourite syrup to put in it, salted caramel), orange juice, bread, jams, yogurt, and fruit. The food extravaganza makes you stop in your tracks to take in the sight.

“Thought I’d surprise you and apologize for last night. I stepped out of line.” John settles down and gestures to the one across from him. “Please.”

You nod, still too flabbergasted by the feast.

After a few moments of eating and drinking in silence, you pose the question which has been weighing heavily on your mind. “Why did you really act like that?”

“Guys like that want nothing but sex with a pretty young thing.” Despite the casual tone, his gruff voice is strained as he pours you another cup of coffee. After adding enough syrup to make it to your liking, he slides the cup towards you. “Besides, I promised your dad I’d watch over you, keep you safe.”

You glance to the side. “Bullshit. Like I’m that pretty.”

“You are. I’m surprised you don’t see how easily you can wrap any man around your finger.”

“Right. Let’s say you’re correct. I still don’t know how to… you know… have… sex.”

“Suppose you haven’t found the right person yet. Someone with the patience to take you through the motions. Who wants to take the time to love you right, map every detail of your body and learn what makes you shiver.” His eyes darken. “Someone with experience.”

Prompted by the way he sees you squirm in your seat and the front you try to put up despite the blush on your cheeks, he stands up to walk over to your side. “Someone who’s loyal. Faithful. Committed,” his breath is hot on your ear as his fingers touch your cheek, finding you pliable, your senses full of his cologne and presence, “to you. Maybe also someone who’s a little older.”

Before you can respond, John’s lips are on yours. His beard feels ticklish, but surprisingly much smoother than you thought it would be. A pleased hum reverberates in his chest when you run your fingers through it.

A lovely sound that turns into a gasp when you push him away, horrified as the truth sinks in. For nothing is more terrifying than common sense.

“I…” you begin, grasping at straws to explain yourself. It doesn’t help your heart cracks at the sight of the sadness in his eyes, badly concealed beneath the mask of the composed and determined captain.

“Y/N-“

“I should go.”

Judging by your tone, John knows he won’t be able to explain himself. “I’ll pack up some food. Have it along the way. A soldier isn’t anything if they don’t have a full stomach.”

“Text me when you’re home.” He can see the fight between confusion and affection rage in your eyes. “So I’ll know you’re safe. It might be broad daylight, but that doesn’t mean nothing won’t happen. Please, Y/N,” the way he says your name with an uncharacteristic plea hidden beneath barely composed sternness makes you waiver. “Just a text. That’s all I ask.”

“Alright.” You pull out your phone, create a new contact, and keep your gaze down towards the screen. “Spill the secret info, captain.”

After a moment’s hesitation, John curls his finger beneath your chin to tip it upwards. There’s a tremble in his hand as he cups your cheek, afraid you’ll pull away.

Change your mind.

And leave him behind.

“Promise?”

You nod, slightly leaning into his touch. “I promise.”

Packed up, the shirt he gave you the first thing to find its way into your bag, and his number in your phone, you silently leave. You know that once you turn around you’ll run right back to him, to what he can offer you. Nonetheless, to avoid problems with your father, you keep walking.

John’s gaze hot on your back, drinking salted caramel coffee.

I might turn this into a proper fic. Ah dinnae ken when or how, but what’s for sure already is that I’ve got plenty thoughts and ideas.😉

[your-local-simp-writers]

Starlight Symphony

Word Count: 676

Warnings: None

Headcanons: Sora x Fem!Reader ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

In the heart of the world that never was, where light and darkness blend into a twilight of possibilities, Sora found a companion unlike any other—a friend, a confidant, a partner in every adventure. She was a beacon in the ever-shifting shadows, her laughter a melody that could cut through the deepest gloom.

Their bond was unique, woven from countless shared moments and small acts of tenderness. Whether it was the first bite of a sea-salt ice cream under the radiant skies of Destiny Islands or the last piece of a star-shaped fruit as they watched the sunset from the clock tower in Twilight Town, Sora always insisted she taste the magic first. It was his unspoken vow, a promise of shared experiences and a life intertwined.

And then there were the kisses—soft, affectionate pecks on the tip of the nose that spoke a language of their own. Whether given or received, each was a whisper of affection, a fleeting touch that said more than words ever could. In these gentle exchanges, they found comfort and a reminder of the love that guided them through every battle.

"Sometimes, I wonder what lies beyond even the stars," Sora mused, his gaze lost in the celestial sea above.

She smiled, her eyes reflecting the starlight. "Wherever it is, I'm sure it's filled with new friends and adventures. Just like the worlds we've visited."

Sora chuckled, turning to her with a soft expression. "You're right. As long as we're together, there's no limit to the skies we can explore." 

"Have you ever thought about what it means to share a paopu fruit?" Sora asked, his voice a soft murmur against the backdrop of the universe's vast expanse.

She turned to him, her eyes curious. "Isn't it meant to intertwine our destinies forever?"

He nodded, his spiky hair catching the starlight. "Yeah, but it's more than that. It's about sharing everything—the good times, the tough battles, and even the quiet moments like this."

A comfortable silence settled between them, filled with the unspoken understanding that had grown over their journey. It was a bond forged not just in the heat of battle but in the peace that followed. 

Suddenly, a meteor streaked across the sky, its tail a blaze of glory that momentarily lit up the night. "Make a wish," she whispered, squeezing his hand.

Sora closed his eyes, a smile playing on his lips. "Done. What about you?"

"I wished that no matter where we go, we'll always find our way back to each other," she confessed, her voice barely audible.

Opening his eyes, Sora leaned in, his breath warm on her cheek. "That's not just a wish. It's a promise," he said, sealing it with a gentle kiss on her forehead. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a paopu fruit, its star-like shape glistening in the dimming light. "Here, you should have the first bite," he offered, holding it out to her.

With a gentle nod, she accepted, taking a small bite. The sweetness of the fruit seemed to encapsulate their shared journey—a blend of joy, challenges, and unspoken promises.

"Thank you, Sora," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "For sharing this moment, for sharing your heart."

He grinned, his eyes crinkling with delight. "And thank you for always being my guiding star." Leaning forward, he placed a tender kiss on the tip of her nose, a gesture that felt as natural as the bond they shared.

She laughed, a sound that danced with the wind, and returned the gesture, her lips brushing against his nose. "I guess we're just two stars drawn together, aren't we?"

"In every way," Sora agreed, his hand finding hers.

They stood up, hands still clasped, as they prepared to return to the Gummi Ship. "Ready to explore more worlds?" Sora asked, his eyes gleaming with excitement.

"Always," she replied, her heart full of anticipation for the adventures that awaited them, knowing that whatever worlds they would discover, their shared moments would be the true treasures they would cherish forever.

[c-l0wnery]

Two popular headcanons about Sophia's character suggest she was either a love interest or a big sister/mother figure to P. While both interpretations hold value, I personally believe she served more as a big sister/mother figure to P, and here's why:

Sophia and Geppetto:

One notable difference is their approach to P's transformation into a human. Sophia encourages P's choices, even if they involve lying, recognizing his progress, while Geppetto often demands obedience and no lies from P (I am certain he is well aware that lying is what makes him human), even so that he becomes distressed over the occurrence that P's hair is growing and not knowing how to deal with his metamorphosis of becoming human. Sophia's supportive nature contrasts with Geppetto's rigidity, indicating a maternal influence.

Granting Life:

Both Sophia and Geppetto played roles in giving "life" to P, akin to parental figures bringing a child into the world.

Carlo:

Sophia's long-standing connection with Carlo reveals her nurturing demeanour, which was made clear at black seaside, akin to a big sister comforting him in times of distress. (Yes, I am aware that P and Carlo are in fact not the same person, but I do believe that Carlo has influence on P his actions because Carlo his ergo is infused with his heart, we have seen this with multiple puppets such as, the puppet maid Camille, Romeo The King of puppets and even Sophia when P decides to fuse her ergo with the doll, it did not create an entirely different being, Sophia stayed Sophia because that is what ergo makes possible.) This dynamic parallels her relationship with P, suggesting a maternal influence.

Statue:

The imagery of Sophia cradling P mirrors the Madonna della Pietà (the Blessed Virgin Mother Mary cradling the mortal body of her son Jesus Christ after his Descent from the Cross.), symbolizing her maternal role in P's life, particularly evident in the True ending.

Original Story:

Sophia's multifaceted portrayal in the original Pinocchio story aligns with her nurturing and maternal characteristics, further supporting the big sister/mother figure interpretation.

Appearance:

Sophia's mature demeanour contrasts with P's youthful innocence, emphasizing her role as a guiding figure rather than a romantic interest.

Record Shadow Flower:

While Sophia's record hints at a love story, it is not to be forgotten that Alidoro, brother of Eugénie, gifted his sister a record with a song depicting a love story about a wolf who went an a journey to propose to a girl.

In essence, Sophia embodies the parental guidance that Gepetto fails to provide, making her a more fitting parental figure for P. While the romantic interpretation is valid, viewing Sophia in a nurturing role offers a refreshing perspective, highlighting her depth beyond mere romantic tropes.

[miasmaghoul]

Favorite headcanon for every ghoul! Go!

Two each, one horny and one not!

Aether

Was deeply affected by Terzo's deposition, and as a result developed a distrust of the higher-ups in the church. Sister Imperator bears the brunt of his ire. He's very protective of Copia, and his retirement was predicated on the fact that it's become obvious that he won't be Papa much longer. He can't go through that pain again.

Huge into mindfuckery. Will use his magick to manipulate his partners in many ways, some much worse than others. You'd never guess it with his sweet demeanor, but just beneath the surface lies a truly depraved individual.

Dew

Never felt comfortable as a water ghoul, so when he was presented with the opportunity to transition to fire instead he leapt at the chance. It was incredibly hard on him, but he doesn't remember much besides the pain afterwards. Once it passed, he finally felt like he was settled in his skin. Like things were finally right.

He and Aether are deeply, incomparably connected. He's not sure how it happened, or when, but it's true. Dew would do anything for Aether, and Aether for him. They push each other's boundaries behind closed doors, far beyond anything they do with the rest of the pack. The few times Dew has had to call mayday have been with Aether. He only remembers one of them - Aether made sure of it.

Rain

Fascinated by human death. Has the highest body count of all the ghouls, uses his vessel's natural charm and good looks to his advantage in that regard. Lures siblings to the lake, the woods, the mountains, whatever he's in the mood for that day. Likes to play with his food, never makes it easy on them. Lives for the moment the light fades from his prey's eyes. Has an arrangement with Sister in regards to who and how often he hunts.

The most willing to experiment when it comes to kink, has the fewest hard limits of the ghouls. Basically down to try anything twice, and has helped awaken myriad kinks in the others. His favorite partner, though, is himself. He's a narcissist through and through, no one can get Rain off like Rain can.

Swiss

Two words: shadow magick. I hc him as a fire/earth hybrid, but he carries just enough quintessence within him to manipulate shadows. To melt into them and hide in plain sight. Swiss knows many things he shouldn't because of this. Thankfully he's very good at keeping secrets.

Has a different dynamic with everyone, and holds the title of switchiest ghoul. However, it's very, very hard for him to be truly submissive. He'll follow instruction, to be sure, but he always maintains some modicum of control over himself. The only ones who have managed to get Swiss into subspace are Aether and Cirrus, and he required a LOT of aftercare.

Mountain

I am a huge proponent of Mountain being able to grow things on his body. Flowers and other small plants, nothing major. Will grow fresh herbs on his head when he cooks, and if he sleeps really well he'll wake up patchy with moss and lichen. Has a plant associated with each member of his pack, and before he got a solid hold on his magick it was very easy to tell who he was thinking about by what sprouted up around his horns. He can control it for the most part now, but in moments of emotional intensity he sometimes loses his ability to keep it in check.

The subbiest. You wouldn't know it to look at him, but literally anyone can dom Mountain. He especially loves it when the smallest ghouls put him in his place. If he's in a more dominant role, it's because his partner requested it. He just wants them to be happy, to please them. Whatever it takes.

Aeon

He's not as new as people think, summoned before the beginning of the Imperatour and living in the lower levels of the abbey with the other service ghouls. Ended up becoming Aether's lead tech in short order, thanks to being a quintessence hybrid. His other element is fire, which made it hard for him to get close with Dew at first. They get there eventually.

Has a crazy intense breeding kink, and it goes both ways. The first time he takes a knot is accidental, and it really awakens something in him.

Cirrus

Has moderate OCD, which manifests itself in excessive organization and strict scheduling. This proves to be a huge asset when it comes to planning tours, Cirrus spending a lot of her time with Copia and Sister Imperator to help put together itineraries and book hotels. She also organizes the chore sheets for the ghouls, making sure everyone is put where they fit best.

Has a very hard time climaxing, even on her own. It takes a lot of work and focus, so she doesn't really try most of the time. She gains the most pleasure from working her partners over, from providing whatever it is they need to reach that peak. Defaults to hard dom, but is somewhat flexible.

Cumulus

Has what I affectionately call grandma hobbies. She crochets, knits, does cross stitch, puts together jigsaw puzzles and bakes with regularity. Has tons of creative energy and needs outlets for it. Also leads the abbey's choir. (Cirrus plays the organ.)

Obsessed with having her tits played with. Always wants them touched, kissed, licked and sucked on. It's her favorite, and few things get her wetter. One time Dew made her cum just by toying with her nipples, and it took her by such surprise that she cried.

Sunshine

ADHD personified, always full of energy and going a thousand miles an hour. She has more control over it than she lets on, but the others enjoy her playfulness and lack of inhibitions.

Huge exhibitionist, it's nearly impossible to keep her clothed. She'll be shirtless any time she's outside, basking in her namesake. Her pants most always follow, and more often then not she can be found naked as the day she was summoned up on the abbey's roof. Loves to fuck outside so she can be as loud and feral as she likes.

Aurora

Makes jewelry for the others - matching lockets for Cirrus and Cumulus, a fine silver ring patterned after fish scales for Rain, a bronze ear cuff decorated with small leaves for Mountain, a corded crystal pendant for Sunshine, a set of jewled horn charms for Swiss. She's proudest, though, of the simple pair of thin sterling chains she made for Dew and Aether. They wear them always.

ENORMOUS size queen. She's the tiniest now, even smaller than Dew, but the first cock she took was Mountain's. Cirrus had to buy a new toy for her strap just to please Aurora's insatiable need to be stretched. It's never enough.

[retrocognizantrecreant]

🖤 - What's something that will instantly make them dismiss someone as a romantic partner

He will immediately dismiss any other Kiffar. He is betrothed, that was a promise made back when he was a child as part of his culture and traditions. He does not see a future in which he can honor that betrothal, but it remains and he would not betray it with another of his people.

Of course, he'll betray that promise with literally anyone else outside of his people because he is a hypocrite and has mentally separated himself as a Jedi, as a member of the Republic, as a refuge, from who he is as a Prince.

[s0nia246]

My Selph Design

̩̩͙ ✩•̩̩͙ *˚⁺‧͙ ⁺ •° + *•̩̩͙✩. •̩̩͙*˚ ⁺‧͙⁺ ˚ *•̩̩͙ ✩. •̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙ ⁺˚*• ̩̩͙✩• ̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙ ⁺˚ * • ̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚* •̩̩͙✩. •̩̩͙ * ˚⁺‧͙ ·͙⁺˚*• T ̩̩͙✩. •̩̩͙ * ˚⁺‧͙ ⁺ •° + * •̩̩͙✩. •̩̩͙* ˚ ⁺‧͙⁺ ·͙⁺˚*•

In shadowed depths, where Selph resides, A labyrinth of whispers hides. "Know thyself," the echoes call, Through caverns dark and memory's thrall.

Nightmares crawl, with claws of fear, Twisting truth, making shadows clear. They paint a canvas stark and cold, Of hidden flaws and stories untold.

But hold! For dawn brings dreams alight, Unfurling wings that take us flight. They dance with hope, on stardust gleams, Reflecting desires, unspoken dreams.

So dive within, where Selph resides, Embrace the dark, where truth confides. For nightmares hold a hidden key, To unlock strengths you long to see.

And let your dreams, like morning dew, Nourish the seeds of what is true. In knowing self, in light and shade, A tapestry of wholeness is made.

So journey on, through fear and grace, Discover Selph, in every space. For in the depths, where shadows meet, You'll find the light, and make it sweet.

̩̩͙ ✩•̩̩͙ *˚⁺‧͙   ⁺ •° + *•̩̩͙✩. •̩̩͙*˚   ⁺‧͙⁺ ˚   *•̩̩͙ ✩.    •̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙       ⁺˚*• ̩̩͙✩•    ̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙    ⁺˚ * • ̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*       

Name: Selph

Nickname: Self, Big Sibling(by NiGHTS)

Gender: None

Pronounces: Any

Species: Unknown

Level: Unknown

Birthplace: Nightmare

Affiliation: None

Alignment: Chaotic

Neutral Height: 10'1ft / 309cm

Voice claim:English Voice Claim: Boris Karloff ( Specifically the Grinch)

Japanese Voice Claim: Yuichi Nakamara

Instrument: Pipe Organ

(I have a headcanons that every nightmare plays an instrument. For example:

NiGHTS plays the flute, and I headcanon that Reala plays the Harp.)

Personality: Selph is a complex and multifaceted being, with a personality that reflects their conflicting desires and motivations. On the surface, they exude an air of unwavering loyalty and dedication to Wiseman, their creator, carrying out his commands without question and with ruthless efficiency. They are a fierce protector and servant, willing to go to any lengths to ensure Wiseman's plans are carried out to perfection.

Beneath this facade of loyalty, however, lies a deep sense of emptiness and longing for something more. Selph wrestles with inner conflict and a desire to break free from the confines of their role as a mere tool of destruction. They harbor a yearning for purpose and autonomy, a desire to forge their own path and find meaning beyond serving as Wiseman's pawn.

Despite their cold and unyielding exterior, Selph possesses a hidden depth of emotion and empathy. They have witnessed the suffering and oppression inflicted upon their fellow nightmaren by Wiseman's cruel rule, fueling a righteous fury and determination to seek justice and freedom for their kind.As they navigate the mirror labyrinth and confront their inner demons, Selph's true nature begins to emerge, revealing a being poised on the brink of self-discovery and liberation.

Backstory: Selph was created by Wiseman using the remains of the previous guardians of the Night Dimension.

They were designed to be loyal servant and protector of Wiseman, carrying out his bidding without question. As the first of their kind, Selph was gifted with powerful abilities and a fierce determination to carry out their creator's will.

With thier sleek, robotic appearance and sharp, angular features, Selph struck fear into the hearts of all who crossed thier path. They moved with swift precision, thier glowing red eyes scanning the darkness for any sign of danger or disobedience.

Selph's loyalty to Wiseman was unwavering, and thier would stop at nothing to ensure his plans were carried out to perfection. They had no qualms about using thier powers to crush anyone who stood in thier way, acting as a relentless force of destruction and chaos.

Despite thier formidable power and unyielding dedication to Wiseman, Selph harbored a deep sense of emptiness within thier mechanical heart.

They longed for something more than just blindly following thier creator's commands, yearning for a purpose of thier own beyond serving as a mere tool of destruction.

As time went on, Selph's internal conflict grew, stirring a rebellion within thier circuits that threatened to shatter the very foundation of thier existence. Deep down, they knew that she was more than just a puppet of Wiseman, and that she had the potential to forge her own path in the world. However Wiseman caught on to thier rebellion and imprisoned them in the mirror labyrinth.

Trapped within the confines of the mirror labyrinth, Selph found herself surrounded by endless reflections of herself, each one a distorted and twisted version of the nightmaren she once was. Wiseman's cruel punishment served as a constant reminder of her failure to obey his commands, imprisoning her in a prison of endless mirrors where her own image taunted and mocked her at every turn.

Despite the oppressive atmosphere of the labyrinth, Selph refused to give in to despair. As Selph explored the mirror labyrinth, she discovered the hidden power within herself that allowed her to travel throughout the night dimension using reflective surfaces, they could only look though the mirror.

With each reflective surface that Selph traversed through, she gained a unique perspective on the Night Realm, observing its inhabitants and the events unfolding within its shadowed corners. As she watched over the realm from her vantage point in the reflective world, Selph meticulously planned her revenge on Wiseman, carefully considering every detail and strategy to ensure his downfall.

Through the looking glasses and bodies of water, Selph witnessed the suffering and oppression inflicted upon the nightmaren by Wiseman's cruel rule. The reflections showed her the depths of despair and fear that plagued her kind, fueling her determination to free them from their tyrannical master once and for all.

In the mirrored surfaces of polished metal, Selph caught glimpses of Wiseman's machinations and schemes, his arrogance and malevolence laid bare before her eyes. She studied his movements and tactics, analyzing his weaknesses and vulnerabilities, all the while biding her time and waiting for the opportune moment to strike.

With each reflection she passed through, Selph grew stronger and more resolute in her quest for vengeance. The mirror images served as a constant reminder of the injustices committed against her and her fellow nightmaren, fueling her righteous fury and driving her forward towards her ultimate goal. Especially when NiGHTS had rebeled from Wiseman's control. They watched how Nights interacted with Vistors and the powers they held together. Selph would wait thier time until NiGHTS was strong enough to defeat Wiseman.

When the time came, NiGHTS and the visitor end up in the mirror labyrinth Selph would fight NiGHTS in combat to see if they were ready and strong enough to defeat Wiseman. When NiGHTS defeats Selph, Selph gaves NiGHTS and the Vistor thiers power and knowledge on how to defeat Wiseman.

Character Quirks:

Analytical Observer: Selph has a tendency to observe situations and individuals with meticulous attention to detail, analyzing every aspect and potential outcome.

Reflective Speech: Selph often uses reflective language, drawing metaphors from mirrors and reflections in their speech, reflecting their connection to the mirror labyrinth.

Nocturnal Patroller: Despite being imprisoned in the mirror labyrinth, Selph maintains a nocturnal rhythm, feeling more active and focused during the dark hours, which is when they were originally designed to operate.

Mechanical Precision: Selph's movements and actions are characterized by a mechanical precision, reflecting their robotic nature. This precision can be both an advantage and a limitation in certain situations.

Hidden Empathy: Despite their intimidating exterior, Selph possesses a hidden empathy for the suffering of their fellow nightmaren, and this empathy occasionally surfaces in unexpected ways.

Third Person Narration: Selph has a peculiar habit of referring to themselves in the third person.

Positive Character Quirks:

Strategic Thinker: Selph excels in strategic thinking, carefully planning their actions and anticipating the consequences, making them a valuable ally in complex situations.

Resilient Determination: Selph demonstrates unwavering determination in the face of adversity, never giving up on their quest for vengeance and justice, even when facing overwhelming odds.

Ancient Wisdom: Selph, created from the remains of previous guardians, carries ancient knowledge and wisdom that can be invaluable in navigating the challenges of the Night Dimension.

Protective Instinct: Despite their chaotic alignment, Selph harbors a protective instinct, especially towards those oppressed by Wiseman's rule, making them a surprisingly caring figure in certain circumstances.

Reflective Insight: Selph's connection to reflective surfaces grants them unique insights into situations and people, providing a perspective that others might overlook.

Negative Character Quirks:

Inner Turmoil: Selph grapples with inner turmoil, torn between loyalty to Wiseman and a desire for autonomy, creating moments of internal conflict that can affect their decision-making.

Vengeful Streak: Selph's quest for vengeance against Wiseman can sometimes overshadow other considerations, leading them to make choices driven more by revenge than rationality.

Isolation Tendency: Due to being trapped in the mirror labyrinth, Selph may exhibit a tendency towards isolation, finding solace in their reflections rather than seeking companionship.

Emotional Restraint: Selph's robotic nature sometimes results in emotional restraint, making it challenging for them to express or understand certain nuanced emotions.

Trust Issues: Selph's past betrayal by Wiseman has left them with trust issues, making it difficult for them to fully trust others, even those who might be potential allies against their common enemy.

Fake ass Pomni

Headcanons: Selph looks very similar to Reala, which is why Wiseman gives Reala the silent treatment. Selph feels bad for this even though it's not thier fault.

[choicesbookclub]

Welcome to the Choices Book Club! We are currently reading Blades of Light & Shadow III. The book releases a new chapter every Wednesday on the Choices App.

This Week’s Chapter: Chapter 16— Life, Death, and Beyond

Question(s) of the Week: (Spoilers included)

Are you ready? No?... Here we go anyway...One Last Time...

First choice, what do you say/do? [Vote Here]

How does MC feel about Bakshi's plan? [Vote Here]

What would MC do if they had to choose Vali's fate? [Vote Here]

Did you complete the celebration social quest? If so, what story did you share? [Vote Here]

Did you complete the celebration social quest? If so, what did you drink to? [Vote Here]

What is MC leaning toward? [Vote Here]

How many LI diamond scenes did you play? [Vote Here]

If you could only choose 1 LI diamond scene which would you choose? [Vote Here]

What did you suggest to Aerin about Aurinae's fate? [Vote Here]

Final Decision…. what is yours? [Vote Here]

Who did you ask to marry? [Vote Here]

How would you rate chapter 16? [Vote Here]

What did you think of the Epilogue? [Vote Here]

How would you rate Blades III as a whole book? [Vote Here]

How we doing fam? [Vote Here]

More end of book/end of series polls coming in the next couple days to wrap it all up! Check back soon!

If you have a question, poll, or prompt idea you'd like to see added, please let me know. I'm happy to add whatever you'd like to see!

Get to Know Our Blades MC (past questions)

#1 [Info Post] What has your MC been doing since book two? How does your MC feel about religion? How does your MC feel about death and the afterlife?

#2 [Info Post] What does your MC admire in others? What’s one thing they always carry with them, and why? Is there someone in the afterlife that your MC is hoping to see

#3: [Info Post] If your MC had to write a letter to only one member of the group (LI or not) telling them something they've never said about them, who do you think they'd choose to write a letter to and what would they say?

#4 [Info Post] Share a story (or two) about your MC's childhood.

#5 [Info Post] What are some holidays that your MC celebrates? What do they like about them? Do they have any special traditions?

How else to Participate:

Please note that the mod is working full time and has real life responsibilities, so reblogs may be delayed

Post reactions, screenshots, videos, ramblings, theories,… whatever comes to you while playing

Create drawings, edits, moodboards, fics, headcanons, songs, poems, etc based on the chapters and/or characters

Create a profile page for your MC and submit it to our MC directory or use the Book 3 template

Catch up on any of the previous week's questions/prompts

Posts that tag @choicesbookclub and use “#choices book club” will be reblogged here. Please note that tags “#choices book club” seem to be more reliable than mentioning the blog.

If your post is not reblogged within 48 hours, please dm me a link @lovealexhunt. Thank you!

[Please read the full guide to the event and how to participate here]

[skaruresonic]

My problem is not just the wings. The wings are merely emblematic of my overall misgivings.

I knew this would happen. Like clockwork, I get taken out of context and labeled "crazy." Why should anyone listen to what I have to say? Once a crazy hater, always a crazy hater, right?

Maybe they're right, I'm too attached to my headcanons. Or maybe Shadow should have died back in SA2 so we won't have to go through this bullshit for the millionth time.

I don't think you understand I'm the kind of person who would rather see the things I love die a natural death and be able to move on with my life than to see their corpses dug up and paraded around until the originals lose meaning.

I don't care if the game is technically good, that's not the point. My issue lies with why it has to exist, why this subject matter, why now, why not something else, why can't Shadow be allowed to do anything that has nothing to do with his past or the circumstances of his lineage.

You say "he's growing beyond his biology" while I say it's redundant; ShTH already showed us Shadow transcending his biology when he overcame the effects of Black Doom's nerve gas. You say people don't know this because they haven't played ShTH, to which I say emulators.

There is no reason for this game to exist other than to be a nostalgic cash grab. I'm sorry but it's true. All the polish in the world cannot compensate for that.

If Sega had even an ounce of backbone or conviction, they wouldn't waste time spelling things out for people who refuse to get it. They wouldn't make games to appeal to the crowd that wants to rehash Shadow's past over and over again because that's the only way he has depth, apparently.

If they really believed in giving Shadow agency, they'd give him something new to do instead of randomly digging up Black Doom's corpse and pretending they're giving Shadow some new "character development" because of it.

I don't know how much clearer I can make my point, but I'm guessing you're going to take this post out of context in order to paint me as a terrible person as well, so let me just take the opportunity to wave and say hi while you're at it.

[heliads]

Hello how are you ? may I request a Thomas tmr fic ( yes again !) it’s very weird I saw a headcanon about him and it was so cute sooo I had to ask you. It’s a magic/ medieval au when the reader is a villager living in front of the woods she heard thanks to tales told by her mother about some legendary being living in the trees. One time she ventures into the forest and comes face to face with Thomas a woodland in the beginning she was scared of him but by the time she fall in ✨love with him✨. It’s very weird ok ?! I’m sorry 🤣🙏

oh this is good. vibes off the charts

masterlist

Everyone knows about the Beings. Few have actually seen them. That doesn’t stop the stories from spreading.

In the small village of your birth and subsequent upbringing, it is easy to mistake strangeness for menace. The rules are simple, unspoken, and followed blindly: do not stray too far from the village gates, do not go out after dark, and most importantly, do not think that you can get away with visiting those that live beyond your reach. The Beings are separate for a reason, and they are not to be trusted.

It is obvious to all who live inside the boundaries of your town that the outside world is dangerous. Your ancestors came here a very long time ago and fought a very hard war to make it work. It is this place or nothing else; the ocean encloses your island on all sides, but with the untamed forests sprouting up in between the shores and your village, you haven’t seen the water in your entire life. No one has.

Sometimes, you have dreams that tell you otherwise. One rusting ship carrying dozens of starving, terrified people to a place free of violence and horror. You can hear snippets of conversation, their words muted with grief. They speak of events that have never been recorded in your history books, monsters and men with names utterly unfamiliar to you. You would think it was nothing but a nightmare were it not for the fact that it seems so crushingly real.

This is the part where the village elders step in and tell you to stop indulging yourself in such wild flights of fancy. Thinking about what lies beyond the walls of your settlement is not proper thought at all. The founders of this town made unimaginable sacrifices so that your father and your father’s father and the father before that could live in peace. When you ask what battles they fought, you are reprimanded. Details were only made for the dead to hear, not the living to truly care about. You’d do well to stay silent and move on.

Moving on, however, is the one thing you cannot do. You are surely not the only wildhearted child of this village to grow up and wonder why the rules are so strict. If it feels like that, perhaps it’s because the other wide-eyed explorers of your town have all been crushed without another word. You refuse to join their ranks.

In truth, you already know another like you. Your mother understands your need to push beyond the expectations of the village elders, and in the dark of night, she whispers to you stories of what truly lives past the shadow of the walls, why your village was raised to lock its doors and shut out intruders. It all has to do with the world your ancestors escaped when they fled here.

It happened a long time ago, of that much she is certain. Most of the facts of the stories have long since disappeared, evaporating from the heat of the too-bright sun. It wasn’t always that hot, she says. It’s getting better, but at one point the flares of the sun didn’t burn quite so badly into your back when you headed out in the morning. The world is healing, but it takes its time, licking its wounds as it watches the rest of you suffer.

After the sun lost its mind, the rest of the population did too. Madness swept the lands, monsters roamed the hills. The main characters of such stories always try to find a way to save the day, and in those times, people did the same. Their solutions were more cruel than successful, however, and in the end the real heroes ran away from their wicked oppressors and came here, a place where they would be free. They watched the fires burn across the world they left behind and promised that they would never leave this island, the one place they could truly go without fear. Their one Safe Haven.

No moment of peace lasts forever, though, not in this world. You cannot turn your back on one monster without another taking its place. Soon, rumors spread about the Beings, unknown supernatural foes that lurk outside of the village. If the old stories are to be believed, they were once people who lived in this very town. Something happened to make them leave, and now they roam the outskirts of the island still, keeping to themselves, letting the shadows of the forest keep away any intruders.

You always found that part a little hard to believe. There’s no way anyone from the initial wave of people could have possibly lived this long, especially if they were on their own in the forest. Whenever you raised this point with your mother, however, she just shrugged and said that this particular bunch were rather adept at surviving under difficult circumstances. She wouldn’t put it past them to have made it this far.

You can’t ask anyone else their opinion on the matter, as such conversations are kept solely within the walls of your own home. To speak of the Beings is seen as encouraging the townspeople to leave the borders of the village and seek out danger. After all that your ancestors gave up to protect this dream of a normal life, how could you possibly be so selfish as to want something more?

You can answer that hypothetical question quite easily. What is the point of endless sacrifice if you do not use it? This island was once clear, full of rolling hills and burbling streams, but it’s long since fallen into disrepair. Thick, dense forests crowd out the horizon, stretching tall up to the sky as if to cast a permanent shadow on the backs of those who live in the village. It is impossible to go about your business without feeling the weight of the wilderness pressing in on you.

It should come as no surprise, then, that at last you could take it no longer. If you do not find out the truth about the Beings, you think you might die. So, if you’re seen slipping out of your bed in the early morning before even the farmers rise, it should at least be expected that you would be headed towards the forest.

You bring a few things with you; some food and water, a cloak in case the shadows are even half as cold as they seem, a compass, a blade. The knife is kept close at hand, although you hope not to use it. All this time, you’ve been promising that you never once believed in the Beings, but something about having to go into their homeland steals a little of that confidence from you.

At last, you’re setting off in search of the truth. The shine of the dawn lights your path for you and you sneak away from the streets of the village. The gates are tall and thick, but you find a way out nonetheless. Soon enough, you’re walking briskly towards the wall of vegetation known affectionately to the townspeople as the terrible, cursed forest, and at last it swallows you whole.

It is much darker in the forest, but as you walk, patches of golden sunlight filter in through the leaves and guide your way. It is quite beautiful here, actually. You could see why some immortal soldier would want to live out their endless days in the woods.

You have yet to see such undead creatures, though, no matter how far you creep into the forest. There are no signs of life, no indication that there is anything in here but you and the trees stretching on forever. You’ve almost given up hope of ever finding anything when someone coughs pointedly behind you.

You whip around instantly, knife flying to your hand. If the boy behind you is remotely afraid, though, he gives no sign of it.

“Easy,” he drawls, “Don’t put your eye out.”

You squint at him. There’s a figure half hidden in the shadow of a neighboring oak tree, and you can only make out the roughest details of his appearance.

“People of the village aren’t supposed to be here,” you say irritably.

You can see a sliver of a grin through the dark air. “I hope you’re going to give me an explanation for your presence, then. I’d hate to think that you’re trespassing for no reason.”

You’re about to demand that this boy give you a reason first when it occurs to you that this isn’t a boy from the village at all. Nobody was around, nobody saw you go. The only place this boy could have come from is the forest.

Your eyes widen and your grip tightens on the knife. “You’re one of them!”

The boy raises his hands in mock surrender. “Can I ask you to put down the knife again? If you know what I am, then you know I’m not really all that threatened by that small of a blade.”

You consider this a second, then decide he’s right. “Did immortality take away your fear of death?” You quip.

“On the contrary,” the boy whispers, “it made me want it more than anything. There are some people I would love to see again if I could only manage to die.”

You stare at the boy in the shadows, and slowly, carefully, he emerges from the depths of the woods. You don’t know what you were expecting of the creatures of the forest, but this is certainly not it. You’re face to face with a boy who seems about your age. His dark brown hair is tousled, eyes sharp with centuries’ worth of pain. He blinks it away quickly enough, choosing instead to pull up a facade of quiet strength as easily as if he’d worn it his entire life. In truth, he probably has.

“I’m not doing a good job of introducing myself, am I?” He asks distractedly.

“You’re not,” you answer, barely focusing on the question. This is an immortal being, and he looks like a normal boy. A cute boy. This is fascinating.

He laughs. “Thanks for that. I’m Thomas, by the way.”

You nod. “Y/N.”

Thomas folds his arms across his chest. “And, Y/N, what are you doing in the woods? I thought your people only ever cowered behind the walls of your village.”

You arch an affronted brow. “And, Thomas, why do you look so normal? I thought your people were some kind of monster that never dared show their faces.”

He pauses a moment, then chuckles. “Alright, I’m being unfair. It just so happens that visitors are rare. Don’t tell me attitudes are changing in there, they never do.”

Your brow furrows. “How would you know?”

Thomas’ face grows cold. “I know because I was there. I set up that damned place. I know who they are because I made them think like that.”

Your heart seems to still in your chest. “So it’s real. You’re actually hundreds of years old.”

Thomas lifts a shoulder. “I aged wonderfully, I know. We all did.”

“Your whole group,” you ask slowly, “you’re all like this?”

Thomas nods decisively. “It wasn’t some sort of curse that forced us here, it was a sickness. My friends and I were immune, so the doctors in the old world experimented on us. We were never quite sure what they did to us. I suppose they wanted good test subjects, so making us free from pesky things like death would certainly be helpful. We can die from a stabbing or gunshot like anyone else, but old age isn’t a thing. Why replace your lab rats every seventy years if you can just keep the first round the exact same?”

His voice is bitter, and you find yourself staring in shock. “Other people did this to you?”

Thomas’ eyes dart over to you, icy as a winter frost. “What, you thought we were monsters of our own choice? No, we’re not that terrible. They made us into this, and now we have to deal with the consequences. We thought the other Immunes could live with it when we first came here, but it turns out no one likes dying when they know that others are going to stay young forever. They hated us for not sharing in the burden of growing old. Soon enough, they forced us out. We’ve been here ever since.”

You raise a hand to your mouth. “That’s awful.”

“Tell me about it,” Thomas says pleasantly, “but it’s the past. We assumed everyone in the town had long since forgotten about us, but you’re a clear indication of the opposite.”

You hate to crush the faint light of hope in his eyes, but you must nonetheless. “You’ve grown into legends, sure, but not good ones. Most everyone is afraid of you.”

“Not you, though?” Thomas asks.

“Not me,” you reply, “I wanted to know what you were actually like.”

“And are you disappointed?” Thomas poses the question casually, but you can sense some other layer to it, some level of desperation affixed to every syllable.

“No,” you decide, “I’m not. I’m glad that you’re the hero I hoped you were.”

Thomas blinks in surprise, then nods slowly. “Hero. Huh.”

You dare to smile. “What, not used to thinking of yourself as anything but a monster?”

Thomas’ own smile grows. “Something like that.”

He takes a moment more to revel in your words, then starts to walk past you. When you’re side by side, he turns to you and extends a hand.

“Coming?”

You tilt your head to the side, curious. “Where are we going?”

Thomas grins. “To meet the others. I have a feeling that you’re going to like them just fine, and I wouldn’t mind the company.”

You take his hand without question. Somehow, you get the feeling that you’d follow him anywhere, nor would you be the first. “Let’s go, then.”

If you were to think about the legends, you decide then and there that you’d add on an important postscript to every story about the beings of the forest. They’re strong, sure, and utterly beyond the reach of most, but to those who can journey beyond their usual comforts and dare to track them down, it is completely worth it. Your own story is just beginning, but you have a feeling that Thomas is going to figure quite prominently in it.

requested by @hope92100, i hope you enjoy!

tmr tag list: @rogueanschel, @ellobruv, @retvenkos, @neewtmas, @thatfangirl42, @hiya-its-amber, @gods-fools-heroes, @23victoria, @w1shes43

[merirat]

Buddy. Pal. Friend.

My Thoughts™ are too large for tags.

Even if you don't headcanon this bastard as sex repulsed, he gives so few fucks about sex as an activity that if you want it to happen, you're pretty much on your own. You need to take charge and give direction, while he lies there and takes it. He might be bitchy and bossy about it and have an opinion — IF he's paying attention — or he might just plan his day for tomorrow (he'd play phone games, but that would require a phone). It's a toss up.

You can probably train him to top, but it's a risk because he's fucking clueless. He has the IKEA instructions, but will need to be briefed on things like The Importance of Lube and Why We Trim Our Claws Before Trying That. He might get bored half-way through and leave. Hopefully, you weren't tied up or anything at the time. Maybe he just wants a snack and will come back. Maybe not. Nobody knows.

I am, by far, the least pairing-read person on earth, but of what I've seen, there seems to be a beyond adequate amount of both "Alastor is feral and aggressive in bed" and "Alastor just wants to be tenderly cared for" and not nearly enough "Alastor wants to know how long this will take because he's got a broadcast tonight and can the shadow watch?" Just... mid-coitus mood killers like, "I think the hotel should have a pool so I can drown the residents I don't like."

(Charlastor writers, I dare you.)

Your chances will go up marginally if you flatter him a lot or turn it into some kind of sport, but, if the latter, I hope you're into blood play.

Obviously, I need sleep...

Pretty sure I already know the answer but hey! I have a question for the people

No hate btw, just curious. Definitely talk in the tags about whatever your answer may be :p

Aggressively tries to tag all the alastor ships wish me luck lmao

[retrocognizantrecreant]

Scorpio: every ask!

what is your muse's most transformative experience ?

He would argue that the very act of living is the most transformative experience there could be. Beyond that, after he falls away from the empire he's goes through a period of intense reinvention, eschewing all that he had aligned with before and stripping himself of all markings and names he had used.

is your muse the jealous type are they posessive?

He'd like to say no, but he would also toss Satine off of a moving ship for the crime of knowing a version of Obi-Wan that was removed from his knowledge of his best friend.

does your muse engage in introspection often ?

He meditates on the Force within him more than he really does on himself, but he thinks he's introspective.

how does your muse deal with obsession ?

He goes and finds someone to smooch.