#i am an empty shell of a human now

[shooting-love-arrows]

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍

PAIRING: 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧 x [human] reader (gender not implied/specified/mentioned) SYNOPSIS: 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧 is determianted to court you (even when in his opinion it's just a formality). TW. delusional thinking, biting, mention of blood A/N: I am fighting writer's block to the best of my abilities but man, fighting Thanos would be easier than that.

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧 who courts you after the very first meeting. It starts small to see if you're interested in him in the first place (in his option it's only formality but he wants to be gentlemerman). But he wants you to know he's taking the whole matter seriously. He brings you the most beautiful trinkets, pieces of coral, pearls of various sizes and colors and shells each different from another but all in perfect condition. Sometimes he even creates jewelry from an ocean plant, pearls and shells. You are often surprised to see him eagerly swimming towards you, with a bag made out of abodemen fishnet filled to the brim with various things taken straight out of the deep sea. You're even more taken aback when it turns out those things are for you. His face absolutely lights up when you accept each and every token. 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧 also can't help but to chirp loudly, boldly showing you how happy he is to see you accepting his (courting) gifts. You have to admit, his reaction is adorable.

"Oh...look at this one!" 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧 eagerly picked up another shell who has caught his attention. It was big and only needed a little cleaning to make it shine. "It's perfect for the necklace! Oh, oh! And look at that!"

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧 who affectionately bites you whenever he gets a chance. That's the next stage of courting where an interested merfolk is supposed to nib the one he's interested in to show them they want to take courting to the next level. It's that stage where a courting couple starts to show the public that they're into each other. It served as both letting others know it's a serious matter and leaving a mark/scent on each other for the public to back off. He's got sharp canines and premolars so it's easy for him to leave a mark on your smooth skin. Marking you quickly becomes his favorite thing. Especially when he draws some blood that leaves a wonderful smell. You don't understand why 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧 does that, especially when you scold him or tell him not to do that. But he doesn't stop, nibbing at whatever part of your body he can. It's part of the courting rituals after all!

"Oh no, my marks are healing." 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧 deflated when he noticed the puncures began to fade. Only to quickly perk up when he realized he's got to mark you again and more.

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧 who takes care of his scales like never before. This is a vital part of courting since merfolk want to look their best for their mate. He was taught that as courtier, he should look his best. And that's what 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧 does. Suddenly turning from a crude merman whose only interest was hunting for food and playing around, into the beauty guru. He began to thoughtfully groom his tail, until his scales reflected and sparkled under the mere streams of sunlight. He also changed his hairstyle by braiding his hair differently to symbolize that he is now taken (even when you're unaware of that). 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧 was never more beautiful.

"This just won't do." 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧 tutted when he noticed his tail was becoming dull. He needed to look his absolute best for you!

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧 who decorates his abode for you. After you accept his first courting gift, he happily swims back to where he lives. It's a cave hidden from the plain sight that, much to his horror, appears to be extremely empty and bland. Something that just won't do, especially for his precious mate. Without a moment of hesitation, he starts the preparation. Inside his cave he plants: seaweed, kelp, red sea whips and various colorful corals. Those are only various of many but soon enough the inside of his abode is filled with soft plants, floating lazily around and glistening with colors. On the outside though, he planted a few poisonous plants that he's immune to, since 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧 doesn't want intruders to meddle somewhere where they shouldn't be. This part of the courting ritual should be done before the mating season takes place and both parties are in agreement to spend this time with each other. But as we can see, 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧 just couldn't wait and decided to be prepared. After all, he believes that this whole courting matter is only formality for you to surely return his feelings and has already accepted him as your mate. Just like he did you.

"Is it colorful enough? Should I add something more? Hm, I'll better plant more of those..."

All of the published posts on this account/blog belongs to @shooting-love-arrows. I do not consent to my works being: translated, stolen, published or reposted on this and other sites. Likes, reblogs, comments are highly appreaciated. Thank you.

#yandere x reader #yandere imagines #male yandere x reader #fanfic #x reader #imagines #yandere #headcanons #yandere oc #yandere x you #yandere male #tw yandere #male yandere #reader insert #headcanon #yandere headcanons #male x reader #soft yandere #x female reader #x male reader #x gn reader #x y/n #drabble #yandere scenarios #yandere drabble #yandere merman #s.l.arrows writes <3

[dilemmaontwolegs]

For the love of god(dess) || CL16 {1}

A/N & Summary: Greek God/dess AU. This was a draft I had wasting away with reincarnation trope. Reader is the goddess of love. I don't even know what I am doing anymore lol Warnings: reader injury, blood WC: 2.2k Part One || Two

“Do you ever stop working?”

You leered across the scrying bowl to the unwelcome guest waltzing into your sanctum. “Unlike some, my work never ends.”

“Come now, I remember a time when you used to love my little soirées,” Dionysus whispered in your ear as he dipped his finger in the bowl, disturbing the still waters. The god of debauchery had never held just a little party, there was a reason hedonism and excess had been celebrated for millennia. “Take one night off. It will be one to remember.”

“Liar,” you said with a smile despite yourself. “I still don’t have any memory of the last one.”

He winked and flicked the droplet of water from his finger at you playfully, “Then I am doing my job right. It’s on earth…”

Damn, the god knew how to pique your interest. Thousands of years watching through the haze of the scrying bowl did little to capture their humanity. Whenever you could, you used to walk among them to see the fruits of your labour. 

“Love, you are eternal - yet you waste away in this…” he drifted off as he looked around the empty stone room, carvings depicting your greatest champions along the walls, “place.”

While the other gods had their golden palaces you were content in the temple that had once been filled with priestesses who served the deity you once were. A shell of who you used to be reflected back in the still water. What was the Goddess of Love with a broken heart? Cold and empty like this temple.

Your thoughts darkened and shadows crept along the walls before you took a deep breath. It had been a few decades since you had some fresh air, maybe it was for the best to get out. “Fine. One night.”

Dio grinned and swept an arm around your waist before leading you to the door. The sunlight hit your face and you cursed Apollo until your eyes adjusted to the brightness. The drunken god took one look at the white robe you wore, a silver sash tied at the waist, and tutted.

“I know beauty is in the eye of the beholder, but this won’t do.”

“Any other insults?” you dared as you cast a hand over yourself, the white cotton bleeding to a deep red leather skin that hugged your body and accentuated your assets. A black corset snapped at the contours of your waist and pressed your breasts up, the armour unnecessary but as familiar as breathing. The others may have forgotten the great war but your heart remembered the loss and you swore you would not leave yourself vulnerable again. 

He let out a low whistle and shook his head. 

“Oh, one more thing.” Your bow and quiver snapped into place across your back and drew a groan from Dio. “What?” Your eyes darted to the chalice that was forever held in his left hand. “You have your attachments, I have mine.”

He held his cupped hand up, wine sloshing over the rim, and pointed a finger at you. “Firstly, this is a curse - not a choice. And secondly, this is useful to drink out of.”

“Maybe you should have been more careful where you stuck your dick.”

“I didn’t know the nymph was one of Zeus’ favourites, obviously,” Dio grumbled before setting off down the path that would lead to the mortal realm.

–

Las Vegas, Mortal Realm, 2023 PIW (Post-Immortal-Wars)

You already knew the party would be a large one, but this was big even by Dionysus’ standards. Thousands of people imbibed in the free flowing alcohol and danced under strobe lights in Sin City, his favourite playground. Dio sent a mischievous wink before he touched the champagne tower and his power imbued with the liquor to increase the effect and ensure everyone was on the same level as him.

“Drink, Love,” he ordered as he tipped the rim of his glass to your lips. Sweet wine warmed your throat as much as his power did and you drank it down knowing that for at least a few minutes your cares would be diminished - but they always came back too soon. “Now dance.”

Your hips swayed and your hands found themselves moving above your head as the lights mesmerised you. Human scents came and went as they moved around you, their pheromones calling to your power as they found lovers, if only for the night. One particular scent caught your attention and you followed it to find Dio talking to the human. He had been god touched and the mark glowed on his brow - not that the mortals could see it.

“Love, this is the man of the hour,” Dio gushed, casting a hand to the party as if it were all for him. “Max here won the race.”

You didn’t know what race he was referring to, nor did you care. “Of course he did,” you stated dryly. Max was Nike’s champion and Nike was the Goddess of Victory in everything except what mattered. “Congratulations.”

You grabbed Dio’s hand and drank your fill from his cursed chalice in the hopes it would douse the fire that ignited in your veins. If Nike had fought alongside you in the war instead of wasting her time with her Olympians and their silly sports then maybe Károlos would have survived. Maybe you would do more than just survive eternity alone.

“Sorry, she doesn’t get out much,” Dio joked, clapping the victor on the arm. “Drink, my friend. The night is young and life is short.”

You slipped away into the sea of bodies, drifting through until a cool breeze called from the balcony and you escaped to the quiet. Your breath exhaled with a heaviness only an immortal could carry and a chuckle startled you.

“Fuck, not another one. Can’t I have one moment of peace?” you groaned as his scent found you before the handsome man stepped out of the shadows of the corner he had been hiding in.

“Sorry,” he apologised. “This was my hiding place first.”

The mark of the Adonis glowed beneath the dark hair that fell over his forehead and you internally scoffed at the god’s vanity. The man standing before you would have been stuck down if he showed his face in Olympus, he was far too good looking it would be considered an offence to the petty gods. And those eyes, green eyes just like...You had to look away before you could finish that thought.

“What do you have to hide from?” you asked, leaning against the rail as you watched fireworks explode among the stars. “You’re a champion.”

“You must have me confused with someone else,” he laughed bitterly.

“I know a champion when I see one.” You felt Dionysus breeze onto the balcony before you heard his drunken laugh behind you, the bitter smell of blackthorn root on his breath from the drug he had smoked.

“Love, eternal Love, I found you,” he slurred as hugged your back, the feathered fletches from the quiver of arrows irritating him. “Must you wear these prickly things?”

Before you could stop him, he ripped an arrow out, the sharpened point catching the side of your neck. A hiss of pain escaped your lips as blood trickled down your throat and the power that kept the weapons hidden from mortal sight broke with the bead of blood on the tip. 

Adonis’ champion gasped as his mind raced to piece together what he was seeing. A woman bleeding and a man holding the weapon. His eyes narrowed and he leapt at Dio, trying to wretch the bloodied arrow from him before he could attack you again. You could have laughed at how futile the attempt was for a mortal to attack a god but said god was higher than Zeus’ perch in his palace and rotten drunk off his wine. 

The fates must have been laughing their asses off as the mortal and god collided, both tumbling to the floor before the mortal screamed in pain.

A hand reached into your chest, at least that was how it felt when the fire exploded inside you. “No, no, no, no,” you cried as Dio fell away from the mortal and you saw the arrow buried in the champion's chest. “What have you done?”

The fire faded as the bond snapped into place and you hated how you suddenly feared for the mortal. That fear had you rushing to his side and falling to your knees as Dio stared at his hands. “I, I didn’t mean to,” he stammered. 

Even the mortals knew the power those arrows held, the stories were told throughout the ages of how just a nick from one could make strangers, enemies even, fall for each other in an instant. The greatest weapon of all was love and it had the power to destroy even the immortals. And Dio had just stabbed the mortal with one, coated in your blood. Blood that bonded.

You gripped the shaft and tugged the arrow out of his chest before slamming your hand over the wound and pouring your energy into it, sealing it closed. He reached for your hand that was slick with his blood and you let him hold it, unable to fight the love that came from your own power. 

“You’ll be okay,” you promised him before narrowing your eyes at Dio. “You, not so much.”

“It was an accident, I swear, it was like I couldn’t control myself. Charles just jumped-”

Your eyes flared silver as you looked back at the unearthly green shade of his eyes. Same eyes, same name, Adonis’ champion. You had foolishly thought Adonis had chosen the mortal for his beauty, but if the mortal was reincarnated then he would also bear the mark on his brow.

“Károlos,” you whispered as a feeling of rightness settled across the universe.

Charles frowned at the name but understood the tenderness in the tone, such a sweet sound. His chest no longer burned and smooth skin met his palm as he felt for the wound that had healed, but the blood on his shirt was proof he had not imagined it all. 

“Who are you?” he asked as he rose to his feet, tasting his blood on his tongue.

You flinched at the question and looked to the stars. “I go by many names, but you may call me Y/N.”

“You called me Károlos.”

“That was your name the first time you walked the earth,” Adonis said, appearing on the balcony in a flash of light. “Károlos, Karlaz, Carl, Charles - it’s always the same. A hundred lifetimes lived, always searching, always waiting. All for this moment.”

When Károlos had been killed you had stormed to the Underworld ready to bargain with Hades, but he had said Károlos wasn’t in the Elysian Fields. You hadn’t believed him in your anger. All this time, Adonis had kept his soul safe. 

You reached behind to your quiver and drew an arrow, grabbing your bow and notching it. “You had two thousand years to tell me he was alive.”

Adonis held his hands up, shifting closer to Dio ready to sacrifice him as a shield. “You think the fates would let me tell you! I did what I could but you were happy to grovel alone in your temple.”

“Can someone please tell me what’s going on?” Charles asked, wondering why no one had come to see what was going on, except when he looked at the party everyone was frozen like the time had come to a stop.

“I was grieving! And now I will have to mourn him anew, because he’s fucking mortal!”

Adonis grinned and you debated releasing the arrow. “Are you sure about that? Is that not your blood that runs in his veins now? I can smell it on him.”

You paused. Your blood had been on the arrow, immortal blood. You and Charles had gravitated to each other without realising it and you inhaled as you leaned a little closer. There was still a hint of that fresh mortal scent but it was an undercurrent to the aether that grew stronger with each breath. 

“What the fuck is going on?” Charles snapped as you dissected him with your eyes like an experiment. “And why is no one else moving?”

You unnotched the arrow and waved the feathered end at Adonis. “We are going to have words about this later.” The beautiful god nodded before disappearing in a flash of light.

“So I'm forgiven, right?” Dio asked with a shy smile. “Told you it would be one to remember.”

You held a hand up to silence him and looked at Charles. “I don’t know how to answer your questions without making more. It might be easier if I show you.”

He accepted your hand without hesitation and you wondered how much of that was the force of the bond or because on some unconscious level his soul recognised yours. Either way, you smiled at the warmth between your skin before leaving the mortal realm behind.

“Where are we going?” he asked as the stars faded with the lights of Sin City.

“Home.”

–

For Reference: Dionysus - God of Wine and Pleasure Nike - Goddess of Victory Adonis - God of Beauty, Desire and Rebirth Károlos - (Old derivative for Charles) A warrior who was fated to be your soulmate before being killed protecting you in the Immortal Wars. Reincarnated as Charles Leclerc by Adonis. Olympus - Immortal Realm

Click here for part two.

#greek god au #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula 1 fanfic #formula one imagine

[sukunasdirtylaugh]

I am so down bad for merman Satoru HELP

“how do humans... select to be with one another?” it’s 6am when he asks you this, and you’re laying on your side upon a large rock with a blanket you’ve brought as Satoru lays on his back. sun dust’s of sunlight peer through the sky. both you and the creature before you have managed to spend all night together, conversing.

“I think...” you pause and sigh, “it’s complicated now, but... normally people date, they go out to eat and spend time together... then they go through a period of courting until they finally marry by exchanging wedding vows, they each have a ring on their left ring finger,” you scooch closer to him before showing him your bare finger, “see?”

he nods, processing what you’ve just said as he lets out a low hum.

“and you... you’re not promised to anyone yet, are you?”

“nope,” you have no idea why you chuckle nervously, “I... I haven’t really met someone back home to marry ,” nobody wants to live their lives by the sea, nearly all men you’ve met had wanted to live in the city, which was a dealbreaker for you. almost as if your soul, your sanity required you to live here, where you could breathe.

now at the ripe age of 23, you finally understand your grandmother.

“I might just end up like my grandmother,” you tell him, glancing at your empty ring finger, “living here, making a living off of my art, but unmarried.” you feel Satoru glance at you.

“do you really find yourself unlovable?” his question catches you off guard, causing you to shrug then shake your head in silence.

“you might be the only human which I might find myself loving.” he answers, simply and fully, making your lungs seek more air until you’ve also answered.

“and you might be the only of your kind to which I take a liking to,” your eyes meet his cerulean ones, and you’re almost caught off guard by his beauty. the ocean waves crash softly at the bottom of the rock and his eyes shine like translucent shells or pearls, whatever it is, it’s beautiful. he’s beautiful.

“If you promise to stay here...” he finds himself saying, “can we... always do this? just you and I?” there’s an innocence between this interaction, less being said and more being expressed through the eyes and the air between you as you nod.

“always,” you say with certainty.

#god I love him so much #merman Satoru on my mind ok #gojo #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #toru #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x oc #gojo satoru hcs #gojo satoru fanfic #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x female reader #gojo jjk #jjk gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen satoru gojo #gojo x female reader #satoru gojo x reader

[star-suh]

DJ

Lee Jeno x Male Reader

cw: angst attempt, fluff-ish smut, top jeno, established relationship, reconciliation sex, rimjob, blowjob, cockwarming.

—

y/n and jeno were a happy couple, days filled with smiles, hugs and kisses here and there. they were a perfect couple in the eyes of everyone around them. but that changed when jeno started to work as a dj, y/n's nights are colder now, having to eat cold food for dinner while waiting for his man to arrive, even sometimes y/n woke up sleeping on the table. 

“it's so tiring” murmured a sad y/n playing with his fingers while sitting on the couch. it's 3:33 am and it seems that jeno is not going to arrive any time soon so the guy decided to go to sleep. “morning” greeted y/n to his co-worker in the cafe “good morning y/n. want a coffee?” asked jaemin handing the cup with hot liquid to him “thank you” is the only thing he says.

jaemin is concerned about y/n he was a happy and bubbly guy but now he's like just a human shell doing things because he has to. “are you ok y/n?. you've been so cold and distant lately” he pats the other guy's back “you know, you can always count on me, right?” y/n just nodded… “it's just that i feel so tired jae… i've been trying to fix my relationship with jeno, i know he's just working but .. it feels like he's not there anymore” he sighs “i just want things to go back to the way they were before” tears starting to pool in his eyes “when i'm home he's not. dinners were the time where we connected more, we talked about ourselves and how our days were but not anymore, it was over in the blink of an eye…” jaemin hugged and comforted y/n “i’m so sorry y/n, i’m sure that you two gonna have the opportunity to talk soon and can fix this inconvenience”, “i hope so” y/n wipes his tears when the doorbell rang, a pair of girls entering.

“good afternoon, what are you going to order ladies?” jaemin took the girls' orders and went to prepare them. “did you hear there's a party tonight hosted by jackson wang?” the blonde girl tells to her friend who make a surprised face “and hot dj jeno is gonna be there too, hopefully i can sleep with him tonight” the two girls screamed and laughed while y/n listened to the conversation with a sad expression.. what if jeno doesn't need him anymore because other people can give him better things than him? “i must be overthinking” he murmured.

“goodbye jaemin” y/n waved his hand and walked away.  he unlocked his phone and searched about that party, it wasn't that hard, apparently that jackson guy is known for his eccentric parties. y/n took a taxi and went there to try to talk to jeno.

y/n was beyond surprised by the party, it was a very large mansion with beautiful gardens and colorful neon lights, y/n walked the cobbled road looking for the shirtless dj and there he was. for the first time in a while a smile appeared on y/n's face. watching how jeno was having fun made him happy too but that happiness was soon shattered by that blonde girl from before who kissed jeno.

the pretty smile dropped quickly, he can't believe what he is seeing, the love of his life kissing another person… confused he just turn around and sat on the nearest chair, failing to see how jeno pushed the girl with an annoyed expression. “please get out of my space, i have a boyfriend and i love him” were the words that came out of jeno's mouth, the girl then leaves the dj cabin with her friend.

hours have passed and y/n was emptying the liquor bottles on his table now he's getting ready to leave walking towards the exit. jeno left the cabin to go to the bathroom stumbling with an acquaintance, the love of his life. “y/n!! wha-.. what are you doing here?” the drunk guy turned around making eye contact with the taller guy “j-jeno”. it's like time around them has paused, tears started to stream down y/n's pretty eyes. jeno just hugged him, both enjoying the warm sensation of their bodies together, the warm that they both missed.

“i.. i'm so sorry y/n” said jeno. both were sitting in the bed in one of the rooms. y/n told jeno about his feelings and how he thinks jeno does not love him anymore. “that's not true y/nnie.. i really love you, you are.. you are so precious to me” he grabbed the smaller guy’s hands and put them on top of his heart “i got too immersed in my work that i didn't realize that i was leaving you aside. i'm so sorry baby you deserve so much better than this” he added.

“i understand if you want to leave me. i don't want to let you go but i was a completely asshole with you” he kissed y/n's forehead and hugged him tightly. “it's ok jeno. i’m happy that we were able to talk and work things out, this is one of the reasons why i love you." y/n commented making jeno smile. “god you're so fucking cute” jeno throws y/n onto the bed and sits on top of him, starting to kissing his neck. “i think i owe you an apology and i’m going to do it by showing how much i love you." the dj started to leave kisses everywhere. “hold on hold on.. what about the your job?” asked y/n. “don’t worry there's someone there to replace me” the older whispered.

slowly jeno discarded y/n’s clothes, making sure to always tell him how beautiful he is. mouths clashed in a desperate needy kiss, it's been a long time since they felt each other. jeno's touch leaving a burning sensation on y/n's body “you make me feel so good jeno”. “is that so? i'm about to make you feel even better then” he laughs burying his face in y/n's ass to eat his hole “hmm tasty”...

y/n started to give a blowjob to jeno while the latter plays with his tight hole “i missed this so much” a string of saliva connecting jeno's mouth to the other's ass. slowly the top introduced all his cock in the bottom's ass “so fucking tight for me” growled the taller. both make eye contact while jeno thrusted slowly, he was appreciating y/n's features being highlighted by the neon lights of the party, that perfect face, those pretty eyes, fuck such a cute guy “like what you see mr. dj?” mocked y/n. “shut up” jeno responded kissing him.

they spend the whole night fucking, they haven't done it for a long time so it worked both as a way to let out all that repressed sexual energy and as a way to reconcile. “let's cum together baby” said y/n and jeno immediately pull out and grabbed both cocks in his hands, jerking off both at the same time “fuckk~ give me that cum” grunted y/n feeling jeno's calloused hands doing friction against his cock “i'm gonna cum” a feral moan leaving jeno's mouth while jets of warm cum came out of the tip of his cock landing on y/n's face and torso while y/n's landed on jeno's torso as well.

fireworks exploded outside in front of the room's window, lighting up the room in bright pretty colors. the happy couple watching them lying on the bed in a spoon position with jeno being the big spoon so y/n can cockwarm him “i love you so much y/n.. let's be happy from now on” jeno hugged y/n tightly smooching his neck making the other giggle “i love you so much too jeno. you're the best thing that happened to me”. tired after all the sex they both just fell asleep until late in the morning when they woke up. “let's go home and eat something. i'm gonna cook” jeno says, squeezing y/n's cheek and kissing it “ok let's go” y/n replied while they walked out of the mansion holding hands.

#jeno x male reader #lee jeno x male reader #jeno x male reader smut #lee jeno x male reader smut #nct dream x male reader #male reader #kpop x male reader #kpop x male reader smut #smut #male reader smut #nct x male reader #nct smut

[trashybugs]

[Fanservant] Pan-Human-History Fairy King Oberon

PHH Fairy King Oberon

Class: Ruler

PROFILE

Default:

The great fairy king and the ruler of the Seelie court. Different from his Lostbelt counterpart who was born as a doomsday terminal, this fairy king lives just to enjoy life and be happy.

Although he was born as the elven king Alberich from the Germanic folklore Nibelungenlied, as time progresses, he has incarnated into a more famous portrayal from Shakespeare's "Midsummer Night Dream". He loves fame and attention, he doesn't mind shedding his old shell to become a more resplendent butterfly.

He is very capable in combat and holds a great strength, capable of controlling the nature and weather even from a change of mood. Because of his overwhelming strength, he's used to toying with his enemies and underestimating them. He prefers to summon his fae servants to fight for him while he watches from a fair distance with a benevolent (cruel) smile.

Bond 1:

Height/Weight: 183cm, 60kg (not counting antlers)

Origin: Germanic folklore, medieval European literature

Region: Britain (formerly), Avalon

Alignment: Chaotic-Neutral

Gender: Male

"My my, dearest, pray tell, why are you staring at me with that innocent, doe-eyed eyes look of yours... are you that astonished at how different I am to that pathetic, washed-out mimicry?

As expected, not a single being in any realm could come close to my greatness after all. Of course, there's a limit to what playing pretend could do... Now, come sit beside me. I would love to hear what you think of me."

A flirty, unrestrained, and outgoing monarch. Oberon has gathered a lot of lovers from varying races in his lifetime, and he's still open into adding more to his harem.

Bond 2:

While he loves gathering beautiful people for himself, he also takes great enjoyment in playing matchmaker and seeing other people's relationship develop, for the best or the worst.

A complete opposite from his other self who appreciates and finds value in everything, this Oberon does not bother attaching meaning in anything he chases. He doesn't view relationships and connections as something that should be cherished, for in the infamous Shakespearian play, his wife has proven to still love him no matter what he does.

He has a great many desires but his motives seem to be empty and short-sighted. As seen in the play, he gave his queen, Titania, a love potion to prank her without thinking much of what will happen after its effects wore off. He received no consequences for his actions and the story eventually brushed aside the quarrel that they had, further enabling his behavior. To him, there never seemed to be a problem that came his way or a moment in the story that criticized his faulty mindset.

His appetite for the world is unquenchable, as he views everything in it as worthy of enjoyment. He seeks to collect everything that shines before his eyes, yet as his collection grows, so does his dissatisfaction. What motives he has to obtain them are but a momentary fancy, but due to his own frivolous nature, he's fundamentally incapable of realizing and fulfilling his desire for a genuine attachment

Oberon lives as any pan-human history fairies will do, living life as he pleases.

Bond 3:

Being one of the great-father of the fae realm, Oberon, who came from the inner sea of the planet and has no connection with human civilization, is very connected to nature.

This can be seen with his appearance, a large beautiful antlers that attracts birds and insects to land on it, and legs resembling a stag. his outfit and a flowery cloak that is magically created by his fae servants. He’s adorned with jewelries from humans who gave him offering as a way to pass his territory safely. In some legend his pearls are made out of maiden’s tears.

with a face that is blessed to be forever beautiful, he is a king that is fitting to rule the fae realm.

Without his beloved queen Titania to accompany him, he took in her role and personality. He developed more gentle, nurturing, almost motherly role to the fairies around him.

As long there’s nature around him, he could give birth to new fairies on a whim using little bit of mana from his Fairy Patterns. He sires many children from that method of reproduction alone but he also took enjoyment in creating them with others. Such as his consorts and random human maidens.

In some legends he have another famous fairy queen besides Titania, named queen Mab

Bond 4:

Oberon was horrified and amused upon finding out about his other self. A pretend prince in rags and naught a kingdom to speak of. A solitary, spineless insect who is content to forever stare at the star above him instead of dragging it down for himself.

Oberon can't wrap his mind on the way his other self sees the world, and while he agrees that stories should not be forgotten, he thinks they should rightfully be enjoyed forever, else they don't qualify as something interesting. In that case, they might as well be obsolete in his eyes.

In the end he took great enjoyment in observing his other self, and wouldn't even mind extending his affections toward him.

After all, he is still his beloved's master compatriot.

Bond 5:

Though his favor is true in a sense, his seeming infatuation with the Chaldean master urges him to act as though he's madly in love with them. In truth, he initially sees them as a form of entertainment, something to satisfy his curiosity and burgeoning envy as to why his other self-took so much liking towards them.

His yearning for the fictitious Titania might perhaps be even stronger than that of Oberon Vortigern's, for he sees Titania as his rightful wife in the myth, unlike Oberon Vortigern who is simply a pretender. As time goes on, his desperation to have a genuine affection for his master grows, leading him to question why their relationship with his other self seems to flourish more than it does with him. He's failed to understand that his connection with his master is fundamentally different, as the relationship between his other self and the Chaldean master have been forged through a long journey together in Lostbelt Britain.

Despite his strong longing for a true love, he doesn't put much effort in trying to find it nor is his attachment to that desire strong enough to make him hate Pan Human History.

"After all, the world is a beautiful place filled with enjoyment, what would be the point in destroying such things?"

The world is but a playground to him, in the end.

big thanks to my friend @lamunana who helps me brainstorm his lore, write her own ideas and even fix my grammar!

#fgo #fate grand order #fgo oc #PHH Oberon #Oberon #trashy oc #fgo fanservant #fate fanservant

[jame7t]

do you know what to do with all these molted cicada nymph shells

Sure, they're not dead, but they still give off the same vibe to me. You know? The empty casings of a spent thing? Dust gathering in the recesses where something used to be? Sure, they're not dead, but they still set off my Necroentomophobia. Fear of dead bugs! Did you know that? Did you know people could be scared of dead bugs? Whatever. It's not the same as being scared of a bug, sure. But I can be scared of a lot of bugs. Sure, little things, like the humble lady bug- not scary. Butterflies, scant as they are, are only off-putting to me. The beautiful moth? Well, I love it, but I don't want to hurt it. It's whimsical, fat body makes me nervous. I don't want to squish it by accident! Because then it would be a dead bug.

And that's worse. It's like, not precisely a direct fear of a dead bug. It won't leap at me in a defiant rage, or be waiting for me around the scary corner. It's more like a shortcut to existential dread. It's a combination of 'ew!' and 'I am going to die one day' and more importantly, if a bug is dead, something has killed it. And you never know if that something is still lurking around. Just kidding. Do you know what a cicada shell is made of? That's right. It's the happy chitin! I don't have an issue with chitin. We're not chitinous beasts, but we have the enzymes to break them down. Humans, that is. This isn't a science fiction piece. This is my blog. I've always thought chitin was interesting though- it's a natural armor made for little guys ostensibly. Little guys in the sense, that it is for bugs only. Well, crabs have chitin, and they can get pretty big- The spider crab can grow over 300 feet in diameter. Just kidding, it can't do that. It's pretty big though. At this point, you'd think: 'Okay- crab reference, and a direct link to the enzymes to break down chitin. Do we eat them? Should we eat the Cicada shells?' Well, I'm not going to. That sounds kind of scary to me. Would you? Would you eat the shell of a thing? I can't imagine it tastes good. I'm eating potato chips right now. They're yummy, and crunchy, and in many ways- the opposite of the humble cicada's false corpse. A lying bug. A lying, cheating, swarming thing. A bug we don't like. A bug we have to deal with. Don't we have to deal with everything? Would it be easier to show less mercy to the little things? It wouldn't, and it would be mean. And that's worse. Anyway, to answer your question, you turn them into mulch, apparently. Or bury them in a hole. Through my research, those were the only two real options we have. There's also 'add them to compost.' So that's three, you have three options. Do you want my opinion? No? Moving on then. There's also a fourth option- a telling one, at that. A sort of 'secret option' lots of people choose. 'Let them decompose on your lawn.' Right? Right, the easy one? Might as well call it 'do nothing.' Doing nothing is always a choice, sure, but when you give me the choice to 'do nothing' in a game, or choose your own adventure, it always seems like a lazy choice on the developer's part. And sure, from your real life perspective, it's probably the easiest. But from a game design perspective? You have to account for the player sitting and watching. What happens if I don't intervene? What happens if I let it continue? Well, in the case of the empty cicada, they stink apparently. I've never noticed it, and we have cicadas here- but I've been lucky enough to never be out in or see a swarm. A predecessor of mine once recalled a story in which the swarm was so bad, you couldn't walk outside without crushing them on the sidewalks "Ew," is what I thought. Maybe they only smell if there's hundreds of them. Thousands? No, probably just hundreds. Not saying they wouldn't smell more if there were lots, I'm saying they probably start being noticeable at around a hundred. Nothing wrong with that. Not sure what the smell is, though. Do you? You should put them in a hole.

#the scary bugs

[teyamsatan]

ᴋɪɴᴋᴛᴏʙᴇʀ ᴅᴀʏ xɪɪɪ - ɪɴ ᴘᴜʙʟɪᴄ

pairing: neteyam x human!reader

➽ a/n: finally, a new drabble! i'm actually quite happy with this one, and you better read until the end for a (hopefully) nice surprise! ly besties, smooches and xoxos

➽ words: >700 words

➽ warnings: it goes without saying, but all of these works (kinktober-related) are smut and therefore minors should NOT interact with them. other warnings include: fingering, tiny little degradation, tiny bit of praise

➽ taglist (x) ➽ kinktober masterlist (x)

A moan - small and insignificant, you thought, pushing past your plump lips like the air through the trees on a particularly stormy night. But he heard it, and that was enough for the movement to cease, enough for the pleasure bubbling up in your core to dissipate almost as quickly as it began. A shiver - down your spine, at his hushed purring words, his voice sweet like honey and molten like the lava in the Pandoran volcanoes you’ve only but heard about and envisioned in dreams and fantasies. 

“What did I say happens if you make a noise?” 

A sharp inhale - looking around the room, where Na’vi and humans stood alike, focused intently on the motion picture displayed clearly on a big projector. Like in a cinema, you were told. Humans love movies, they go out of their ways to experience them the way they were intended, and Norm insisted - no movies unless on a proper screen. It was nice. A stepping stone in the right direction, in the continuous if not a bit unrelenting desire to improve intra-species relationships and merge the now two coexisting words. So maybe what you were doing now was good, right? Cooped up under a blanket in between your best friend’s thighs, his fingers knuckle deep in your soaking cunt, hitting spots inside of you you didn’t even know were possible, his thumb drawing circles on your clit… It’s progress, right? You’re… building up rappor with the Omaticaya… right?

A promise of four purple bruises - as his hand digs into your hip, willing you for an answer you didn’t want to give him, because if you did, it would mean facing harsh reality. 

“Answer me, yawne.”

Whispered touches on your folds - as he teases you with the promise of more, as he tortures you with the lack of it. It’s heaven and hell, just like his whole entire being is. Neteyam was the perfect man, an angel on paper - sent from above to heal, to mend, to be everything anyone’s ever wanted of him. The perfect son. The perfect soldier. The perfect sibling. The perfect friend. The devil in actuality- like he was now, in the confines of the privacy you normally found yourselves in when like this, desperate to own you, possess you, eager to strip you of your clothes and sanity layer by layer until you were nothing but a fucked-out shell of who you were at the beginning of the night, until you were begging him to stop… until you were begging him for more. 

“S-stop. You said you’d… stop.”

A low chuckle - evil and mischievous, filled with underlying ache and a deep desire to put you over his knee and show you how good girls are supposed to behave. Later. Right now, he wants to see you squirm, he wants to hear you struggle to keep that pretty little mouth shut as he makes you come on his fingers over and over, until you’re squirting and mewling and crying, until you inevitably fail and he has to watch you scramble for a lie, stumble on your words as you say to the people watching in confusion that the movie was just that emotional. 

“That’s right. So what am I supposed to do now, mm?” 

A whine - desperate and pitiful, as you grind on his drenched fingers, looking for any relief, any friction that could alleviate the emptiness in you. The chuckle was a full blown laugh now, perfectly matched to a particularly funny scene in the movie. It wasn’t weird when everybody else laughed, too, right? Neteyam couldn’t have told anyone asking what was going on on the screen if they paid him, and well, he was glad because this… this was so, so much better. 

“Keep go…argh! Keep going, fuck!”

A moan - as he enters you again, two of his large fingers stretching you like a dream, hitting spots inside of you you didn’t even know existed. All of a sudden the world, this room, they were null in your mind, and you were alone with just him, with just these feelings and the man who was making them real, with the orgasm you felt rapidly approaching and what you knew would be the beginning of a long, long night.

“There we go. My little slut, taking my fingers so well. Maybe it’s time to give this people a real show, huh… Vol?”

taglist: @pandoraslxna @sulieykte @blue-slxt @eywaeveng @neteyamsikran @elenamoncada-ibarra @spicymayyo @itsjazzsworld @daddysmurfslefttoenail @eyrina-avatar @iameatingmyhair @hadesbabygurl@linydoll @the-mourning-moon @kasai-https @dvxsja (if your tag doesn't work pls check your settings x)

#lunaskinktober2023 #lunaskinktober2023 re: teyamsatan #༊*·˚ andra's works #neteyam #neteyam x reader #neteyam fanfic #neteyam reader #neteyam sully #avatar #avatar twow #avatar fanfic #neteyam x avatar!reader #neteyam sully fanfiction #neteyam angst #awow #awow neteyam #neteyam smut #neteyam x y/n #avatar way of water #neteyam x reader smut #neteyam x you #neteyam fluff #neteyam x omaticaya!reader #tw: aged up #aged up characters #aged up neteyam #tw aged up #neteyam drabble #avatar drabble #avatar x reader

[holymaccaronii]

It’s lore dump time :3 (each day this AU gets even further from looking like it’s inside the ihnmaims universe BUT I SWEAR IT IS!!! IN MY HEAD!!!!)

So euurm these are concept designs for some of the models that I once mentioned in another post, in a few words, funny robots that live in a settlement on the moon and that are divided in a hierarchy. I’m gonna really try my best to explain myself abt this, even with my English, so enjoy!!!1!!

-All the robot units that inhabited this “kingdom” were divided into a hierarchy. The units were named after planets, though the hierarchy didn’t necessarily follow the order of the planets to rank them (from higher to lower ranks of units we have: Sun (HEL-102), 34RTH, M3RCUR1, V3NU2, N3PTUN3, UR4NU2, M4R2, 7UP1T3R, 24TURN, and PLUT0 respectively.)

[Important details to take note of: all robots consisted of a “shell” (empty body parts/model) and inner cables/systems that brought that shell together, thus a robot was able to change models by transferring its cables to another one (similarly to what snails do). We call robots with both a model (shell) and inner cables a unit. We call the shell alone models, and these own the names with both letters and numbers. The ranks are named after the proper name of the planets].

-Units of the hierarchy:

The monarch, HEL-102 (they/he), was considered the “Sun”: supreme leader and the only one to give permissions for any important activities or movements done around. The insides of its body contained the encapsulated remains of his original human body, still alive though unconscious. Although he did have a solid model, they also enjoyed to move around without it as an amalgamation of cables.

The monarch’s closest subordinates that communicated any events to them were the M3RCUR1 (Mercury) units: they constantly supervised the city around and practically were the sun’s secondary eyes. The M3RCUR1 units were the ones to decide if a unit was worthy of keeping its model/rank or not: those who did an inefficient job on their rank could be downgraded to the model of the rank below (with an exception of 34RTH units) forcefully.

The V3NU2 (Venus) units were in charge of entertainment and sometimes tidiness inside the monarch’s palace. They had a lot more liberty to choose the shape of their model. The wax inside them could be colored and dispersed at their will to simulate clothes, and their screens could show a face of a character in order to act in a play. Even so, they also offered many other entertainment spectacles such as circus shows, dances, and even simulations of tv shows.

The E4RTH (Earth) units were considered as high ranks despite them having the N3PTUN3 units as their superiors/caretakers/teachers: they were in charge of supervising the seeds and embryos now stored in a vault inside the moon where the original AI was kept. They were considered valuable as their programs and physical models were being adapted to help humans regenerate Earth’s nature and biodiversity with plenty of strategies and methods (involving plant propagation, care of embryos, etc etc.), + they were built with the materials closest to the core of the original AI. These models were not allowed to access the city itself, and were safely kept inside a dome where they were constantly trained, upgraded and tested for the efficiency of their programs in different situations. For some reason, they weren’t allowed to touch each other either.

The M4R2 (Mars) units were mostly authorities for the army that directed the investigation, recollection and attack missions to Earth. These missions had the objectives to 1: investigate the bowels of AM as much as they could, occasionally the surface too, 2: recollect materials, mostly metals, to replenish most of the models and 3: slowly but gradually attack AM’s systems as their army was exponentially growing. M4R2 models were usually seen in two versions, as one type usually took charge of the investigative missions and the other of the offensive/defensive ones.

… (Missing a few units to draw yet.)

Ok as a last comment now I have a lot more material to doodle with, so expect them being silly very soon (and perhaps serious too). I also wanted to explain their common behaviors and other stuff but I’ll leave that for another post.

#ihnmaims #i have no mouth and i must scream #ihnmaims oc #ihnmaims au #ihnmaimsplanbau #robots #robot #character design #ihneaimc #i have no eyes and i must cry #HEL-102 ihneaimc

[fairestar]

affirmations enchiridion · volume I : self concept.

𐙚 enchiridion: a handbook; manual.ㅤ𐙚 affirmation: the assertion that something exists or is true.ㅤ✸ these posts will serve as a source of reference for anyone looking for reassurance and/or affirmations to use for their manifestations.

· i am the one in everything:

i am god. i am the sole creator of this reality. i am the operant power. i am an infinite being. i am a master manifestor. everything that surrounds me is my creation. all existing things owe their presence to me. i am the stem of the flower, i am the roots of the tree. i am the one in everything. I AM.

why would it be hard for a god to get what they want? i am all-powerful. i am omnipotent. i can create anything, i can bring anything to life. i can have anything i want. my mind is limitless, my imagination is the source of all existence. i place all of my faith upon myself for i am the onliest god.

i am not the three-dimensional body i am now occupying, i am my mind. i am not this empty shell. i am greater than what its senses perceive. i am awareness and i am aware of what is true and what is false. my consciousness is the only truth. everything outside of it is of my conception and therefore mutable.

· i am free to feel:

i am worthy of my desires, i deserve whichever it is i want. i have no reason to feel guilt or hopelessness when it comes to my manifestations. no matter how hard life can get, it does not come in the way of my desires. i am free to feel whatever emotions arise from the outer world and its situations, i am a god but i am a human too, and i know that gloomy feelings, whichever their nature may be, have no effect over my desires. i am gentle with myself and i let myself feel whatever it is i need to feel when things get hard and the world seems like too much, because i know it won't last forever and i have the power to make it all better when i am ready to do so.

· i am all-powerful:

once i become aware of a desire and assume its end result is now mine, the desire comes to fruition. there is nothing left to want, there is nothing to wait for or hope for or expect. my desires are not separate from me, they do not exist in a realm separate from the one i inhabit because there is nothing and nowhere but my self. my desires are god-given for i am god and i gave them to me myself. my desire is alive in my consciousness and since my consciousness is the only reality, my desire is real and already in my possession. what i have in my mind is what i truly have.

there is no time delay to my manifestations because time does not exist unless i want it to. there is no resistance to my manifestations because nothing can oppose my power. there is nothing that i cannot have. there is nothing that is impossible.

all i have to do is affirm and persist in it because, how could it not come to pass? how could i possibly fail? how could a god ever face defeat? that is the only impossible thing: failure.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ© fairestar, 2023.

#💒; truehearted #enchiridion #affirmations #affirm and persist #self concept #law of assumption #neville goddard #edward art #manifestation #fairestar

[atlasxspeaks]

Background: Inspired by @be-the-glenn-to-my-maggie Secret Mating Nocorro AU where they mate after the final battle, and Ronal finds out leading to everyone finding out. She calls an entire meeting between elders, Jake, Neytiri, Mo’at, Norm, and Max to discuss how to break the bond. Some elders and Mo’at don’t think they should intervene at all, but Neytiri and Ronal are furious, deeply bothered by the idea that Eywa would allow a human to experience something as sacred as a mating bond. Neteyam is forced to attend this meeting, but Spider doesn’t because he’s not mentally well enough. Neteyam finally snaps at everyone after Jake, in an attempt to mediate, says that Neteyam will just stay away from Spider until the bond dissolves.

—————————————————————

“I won’t.”

Mo’at ears perk up in surprise at her grandson’s defiance. Neteyam has never been a child known to defy his parents anything; he was always obedient and respectful. His body shows no signs of anger, but his eyes hold contempt to a degree she has never seen. Jake and all the other elders in the hut also seem surprised by the boy’s refusal.

“Boy, -”

“Don’t call me that,” Neteyam snaps back, sitting up straighter against the hut’s wall and looking his father dead on, “Don’t treat me like a disrepectful child. Like I’m being unreasonable.”

Jake looks as though Neteyam had struck him, and for all it matters, he might as well have. Mo’at can see contempt in his eyes, and it seems to be verging on hate. Hate is something no son should feel toward their father. She wants to reach out to her grandson to stop him, comfort him even, to do anything to stop what she fears is coming, but she is frozen by that look in his eyes.

Neteyam stands, swaying a bit from the position change. He is still weak from being shot but strong enough to move with some assistance. He looks around the hut, first at his mother and then at the rest of them, his gaze falling directly on Ronal.

“You all stand here and judge me for my choices as if you know anything about me. And you judge Spider as if any of you even know him beyond him being human. You talk of controlling my future as if you are Eywa herself and I have had enough! I mated Spider, and it will remain that way!”

“Neteyam-” Jake moves towards his son, but he pushes Jake back.

“No! I have had enough of you!”

Everyone bulks at that. No Navi child has ever talked down to their parents; it simply doesn’t happen. Mo’at feels a familiar feeling of dread pool in her stomach. The look in Neteyam’s eyes has only grown darker.

“All my life, I have done nothing but obey you,” Neteyam speaks softly now, poking Jake in the chest before grabbing his war vest. “I have been nothing but be an obedient son, a protective brother, a perfect heir. Every rule you have given me, I have followed.” A tear falls from Neteyam’s eye, illuminated by the sunlight filtering through the hut’s ceiling. He looks like he’s rallying himself to speak again. Mo’at fears that whatever he says next will be the worst thing yet.

“And what has it gotten me?”

“I have no home. I can barely walk. Kiri has no friends. Lo’ak nearly died multiple times, and Tuk can barely sleep without nightmares. I followed you without complaint when you made me leave my home. I obeyed you when you ordered me not to go after Spider, and I trusted you when you said they would not hurt him. And now, he can barely speak! He cannot sleep, he cannot eat! I trusted you when you said he would be safe and he is a shell! I have no mate because of you!”

“I have done everything you have ever asked and it has gotten me NOTHING!”

“…I am done obeying you.”

Neteyam lets go of Jake’s vest with a finality that takes all the breath out of Mo’at lungs. His eyes no longer hold all the anger and contempt they once did, the tears he’s cried washing those emotions away in streaks down his face. Now his eyes just look empty. His gaze moves away from his father to the rest of the room.

“Spider is my mate. It is done. If you will not have us here, then we will go somewhere else.”

Mo’at wishes she could be proud of the level of emotions her normally reserved grandson is showing, but she cannot be. Neteyam is finally coming into his own at the cost of his relationship with his parents. How could she not have seen this coming?

———

Not my best but I got inspired from the scene in Outerbanks season 3 where Sarah yells at Ward for all the bad things he’s don’t and what she lost because of him and I think Neteyam and Jake dynamic would mirror theirs but in a less abusive way is he mated and refused to leave Spider behind.

#spider socorro #neteyam sully #neteyam x spider #nocorro

[feminismisstillahatemovement]

HOLLYWOOD, CA — A popular movie star was quick to assure her legions of fans that she is living her very best life now as a gender-non-conforming person who appears as though her soul has been completely sucked out through her eyeballs.

"I'm happier than I've ever been," she said in a dull, monotonous voice reminiscent of her film performances. "It should be clear to everyone who sees me that I'm overflowing with love and enjoyment of life. I know exactly who I am, even though I'm unable to identify myself by any reasonable standard of gender or sexuality. Pay no attention to the fact that I look as though I am merely the empty, withered husk of a human being. I'm living my truth. Whatever that means."

"And I'm gay. That's gotta count for something."

The actress has shocked fans by gradually moving further and further away from the vibrant young actress she was at the start of her career, looking more and more like a joyless, world-ravaged shell as the years have worn on. "I never would have recognized her if you didn't tell me who it was," said one fan. "She was so beautiful back then. Now, she looks like the guy who sprayed my house for bugs last week. But, hey, she says she's happy, right?"

At publishing time, the actress had again stressed how happy, free, and fulfilled she was while checking herself into rehab.

[sokkastyles]

Honestly Katara would not be that angry at Zuko post ba sing se if she did not care about him. If she did not trust him. For her it's Jet all over again(I am again writing wise hating the writers for not letting Zutara be canon. It's not even about shipping. It's about character development choices and writing choices man and the choices they made did not make sense!) So yeah people saying she hated Zuko does not make sense. I honestly do not think any of the guys hated Zuko. Even when he was chasing them I do not think they hated him(found him annoying as hell and saw him as the black and white thinking of their image of evil fire nation. But not hate) Azula though I can see actual hate especially Sokka. Hate and fear.

I think they hated Zuko, but it's the hate you feel for an impersonal enemy. Katara's anger at him post-Ba Sing Se is something different altogether, because now she knows he's not just an impersonal enemy. Her insisting so much that he was just pretending to be human when she's with the others is proof of that, because Katara doesn't even treat her enemies that way. Katara's first instinct is to empathize with people, like Jet or the people of the Fire Nation town.

It's actually the ambiguity with Zuko that she's most afraid of after Ba Sing Se. Because he hurt her, like Jet, but also because, unlike with Jet, who never had the chance to show how he had changed, Zuko is asking her to trust him again. So Katara's empathy is at war with itself, because she wants to care about Zuko but is afraid of getting hurt again.

Katara needs to be able to forgive Zuko, needs to see that he is someone she can trust, in order for those feelings to be resolved.

When I think about Katara's relationship with Zuko, I think of the saying, the opposite of love is not hate, it's apathy. Katara feels so intensely about Zuko because of the love she has for other people, and because he was someone she wanted to love. Contrast that with Yon Rah, who she feels mostly apathy for, which is why she neither forgives him nor does she feel any more need for revenge after her confrontation, after she sees that he's just an empty shell, not even worth her hate.

#zutara #zuko #katara #yon rah

[snaililita]

♠️♥️ Lyney x Reader♥️♠️

Synopsis: Reader has some serious escapist tendencies, no friends anymore, and lives in a shell they are too afraid to crawl out of because they perceive reality as disgusting and mundane nowadays. What happens when a certain magician shows them that reality can still be beautiful as a way to thank them for the freedom they inadvertently granted him with?

!!SPOILERS FOR THE ARCHON QUEST!!

This is kinda long! I also made it at 1 AM so if there are any errors it's cuz of that ('□`) I personally have been going through some things and have been finding a lot of comfort in this goofy ol'magician. So sorry if this has some darkers tones than my usual stuff! I tried to keep reader as gender neutral as I could by not name dropping anyone and only referring to them as "You" variations. If there is a slip up please tell me!

You're hardwired to be an extrovert, but you exist in an environment and place that shuns you and forces you into a shell.

You've had your voice ripped from your throat one too many times and you've been silenced for nothing more than a mere giggle.

You were raised in an isolated world, away from humanity and it's harsh reality.

You didn't have any friends growing up except for the occasional child of a parent's friend who would visit.

Your siblings would hide away and your father would yell all the time. Your mother was always at work. Your friends were in your worlds of fiction and your books. The drawings you began to make to see these adventures you had with them.

You don't know how real people act or how to speak with them, treating everything like dialogue in a book.

Friends you had made at one point eventually coined you as toxic because of your inability to speak with any of them properly. Perhaps you should've tried harder. No, you definitely should have tried harder.

Perhaps they would still be here if you had made more drawings for them. Maybe if you had kept your opinions to yourself. Maybe if you had just smiled and nodded. Maybe they would still be here.

You became a shell. Hiding yourself away from any possible relationships. Keeping yourself away from anyone else you could possibly hurt with your ignorance. You had friends, it's not like you were lonely. The characters you read about and drew all the time were your friends.

Yet, they began to feel empty. You began to feel empty. Focusing all your time on honing your talent and living in a world of fiction reality became bland. Disgusting even. This only drove you to hide away from it even more.

You were lonely, craving friends and love you knew you couldn't let yourself have. It was like an addiction. You had it once and now you want it more. But nothing else ever hits like that first high does, right?

For the sake of everyone else around you, you cut them all off. You were stung once. Being shelter your whole life you didn't know how to handle it. You gave up on everything and everyone.

You felt hollow.

You met him after one of his shows.

The magician was so insistent you see his next one.

You supposed it couldn't hurt.

So you arrived at his next one.

And then the next.

And the next.

Until you began to see every show of his.

He would speak to you after each one, ask you how your day was. He would tell you about his.

Even after he was ousted as a member of the fatui you still saw his shows. You still spoke with him. It was as if you didn't even care.

Something about him and his magic, the reality bending of it all was beautiful. The most beautiful thing you had seen in ages.

It didn't feel real, yet it was. It was magnificent. He was magnificent.

Nothing could change that. Especially not something as silly as a title or affiliations.

As far as you were concerned, he was wonderful.

Even after he began to show you his true colours.

He had shown you something beautiful, and for that you could only appreciate every side of him.

Everything about him was addictive, every single part and side. Every nook and cranny. Both sides of the beautiful coin.

That's when you realised you became too attached.

You didn't want to ruin something so beautiful with your thorns, so you stopped attending his shows.

Stopped seeing him all together.

You couldn't tarnish something so glorious by hurting the person responsible for it. You couldn't hurt the majesty of it all. The majesty he showed you.

He noticed you stopped attending his shows immediately.

He sought after you for ages. Since you hardly leave you house only for food he didn't find you for a while.

However, once he did he wouldn't leave.

He followed you around, asking all about where you had been.

You wouldn't respond.

All though he wouldn't speak of it, you in a way provided him with a sense of comfort.

You didn't even question him once after he was revealed to be of the House of Hearth.

All though you loved him for being able to break reality, you weren't a monster. You never forced him to keep up his acts. You knew even someone as talented as he needs breaks.

So when he approached you, his hair unstyled and in plain wear with nothing more than a mere request of comforting silence or idle chatter not regarding his work you obliged.

He felt as if he could show both sides of himself to you, both sides of that coin. He could be as flashy or as monotonous as he wished. You granted him a sort of freedom.

He became very quickly attached to you.

When you stopped showing up to his performances he panicked.

Perhaps you were tired of his antics?

It took a long time, but you eventually did open up about why you stopped showing up.

He felt a side of him ache.

You were just about as alone in this world as he was, yet not at the same time.

He had his siblings to talk to, the blonde traveller to talk to. You seemed to have no one.

To learn his shows were a break from the world you viewed of rancid initially and how it brought you to love every part of him.

How ethereal he was to you.

And how you were afraid you would grow obsessive and toxic and how you didn't want that for him.

How he had been the closest thing you've had to a friend in years and how attached you had become.

How worried you were for him, how you adored him so much you were willing to cut yourself away if it meant keeping him safe from something potentially toxic. Even if it meant sacrificing your own happiness.

He wouldn't let you feel this way, no, he couldn't let you feel this way anymore.

He assured you that he would never run away, no matter what sides of yourself you were to show him. After all, you did the same for him.

He would understand and help you learn how to make friends, how to properly interact with others. Yet, he would want you to be the same around him.

In a way, he wanted to help you build a mask to wear like he does but still provide you with people you can be yourself around.

He thinks you are wonderful and misunderstood, yet he understands not all can see that. He wants to protect you like he does his siblings.

It's the only way he knows how to help, and you don't seem to mind either. He can't change everyone or anyone's opinion of you. Those are to each their own. But you can. And he can help you find a way to do that.

He doesn't want you to change who you are, but but doesn't want you to feel isolated and alone anymore either.

So a removable mask seems as if it's the best answer, no?

He also introduces you to his siblings and a blonde traveller along with their adventuring party. You meet a large amount of kind people including a young man who visually strikes quite a similar appearance to your friendly magician with a platinum blonde ponytail and bright crimson eyes and a young woman with a long, pink ponytail that fades to a blue and eyes that seem to have seen things beyond the scope of what a woman her age normally would have.

If you begin to feel nervous making so many new friends and with things changing so quickly, he doesn't hesitate to take things slower. He isn't afraid to make any adjustments for you.

He isn't afraid to return the feeling of freedom you blessed him with, so let him crack that shell of yours and help you spread your wings to soar out of that black abyss of isolation you've been drowning yourself in.

#adelita writes #genshin lyney #lyney #lyney x reader #soft lyney #lyney comfort

[parkermunson]

Siren!Eddie Part 3

1 / 2

summary: You want to find your new friend a shell but on the walk to find one, you fall. Cleaning the wound off in the ocean seems like a good idea, unless there's a starving siren in the water. Luckily, he's more interested in keeping you alive.

t/w: Mentions of blood/open wound a lot. Eddie licks reader (not sexually), poor self-confidence thoughts

a/n: I am so in love with this series, it brings me so much joy to write. I love little golden retriever Siren!Eddie but I also wanted to portray his actual siren nature. So this chapter shows that. And don't follow in Reader's footsteps. She's reckless. Here's the longest fic I've written so far!!! [3.6k words]

The warm wind of the afternoon rushed between your legs as you stood at the surface of splashing water. The pocket your hand rested in, previously home to the gifted shells from your newest 'friend', now storage for the little bits of sand remnants that fell from the shells. They prick your fingers, but it somehow feels nice. Like it's proof that you didn't imagine another person actually sitting in the water after all these years.

The water was empty aside from the little fish taking in the heat from the shoreline sand. He seemed to disappear in the time you left for lunch. Though, you're sure you never saw anyone like him walking around the streets from your house. Your house only separated from the little walkway to the beach by a street meant you could keep an eye on the visitors. Maybe he swam to another shore around the rocks. He seemed to love being in the water!

He was so odd, finding solace in the one thing the town seemed to fear. Perhaps he didn't know the tales of the hundreds of missing people, the sightings and sounds of something not quite human, but not quite fish. He seemed lonely with how he acted toward you. The gifts but lack of words, the inability to maintain eye contact. If he was scared, he would've left, but he didn't. Shy, that's what he was. He didn't know you. As far as he was concerned, you bothered him.

You needed to give him a reason to trust you!

The town you lived in was small, but had beaches galore. The one outside your house was closed in, high rocks separating it from other openings to the water. No doubt the guy had picked up every shell to exist in or out of the water there. So another beach nearly opposite your's was possibly unexplored by him. It was a distance away, a mile or so, with uneven ground on the path in between. Little shore towns like this are adamant they stick with their history, and that always means keeping the rocky footpaths that only get worse with age.

Riding your bike on the street would've been a better option, had it not been so hot, steam could be seen rising off the surface. Your rusty old bike would melt, knowing your luck.

Your sandals slid and flopped against the porous surface of the rocks. These rocks were probably here for thousands of years, before humans even lived on the land. Now they were merely a guide to your next destination. The blinding white of the worn rock contrasted the deep grays of the spots where rain would gather in tiny pools. Tiny pebbles gathering in the crevices, like small offspring. One pebble, about a third the size of your palm caught your eye. It was dotted with holes, white playing against black in a poke-a-dot battle of color. The texture was something to behold, like the scallop shell you were given. A perfect exchange.

The rock bounced in your pocket with each uneven step. The sun above was relentless, but the tall trees surrounding you on each side of the path provided enough shade to keep only a light sweat blooming from your skin. Sounds of water sloshing against land grew louder as you approached the shore, but the heat hit harder here. You cursed yourself for not bringing a bottle of water. The dryness of your mouth irked you as you imagined the cool waves clearly in your mind. Your feet couldn't carry you fast enough to feel the force of the chilly water as a release from the sun.

In the distance you could hear voices from the shops a few blocks away along the main street that circled the little town, like a barrier between the houses and water. Ice cream shops, restaurants, little boutiques. After your search, you'll have to stop at the ice cream parlor for a sweet, cold snack. For now, the shore lay ahead, the waves pushing and pulling against the golden sand– a welcome and a dismissal curled into one.

You finally reached the last step. The anticipation clouding your judgement as your sandal met rock but slid sideways on the unbalanced object. The skin of your knee kissed the sharp edge and you landed with one leg curled beneath you, the other awkwardly stretched in front of you. The scratch across your skin was felt long before you saw it. It pulsed with pain, buzzing incessantly against your muscle. It was more annoying than painful, and only soured your mood further. You sat there for a moment, gathering breath before finding your balance on your feet and assessing the damage. The scrape wasn't too deep, but ran along your mid-calf up to your knee. The skin was open and flushing with blood attempting to scab over. Small drops of crimson bubbling from the wound and starting to drip. You brushed a hand over it, attempting to flick off any little pebbles and specks of dirt. The blood smeared across your skin, shining against it in a crimson stroke. You sighed, further aggravated at your now dirty leg, before continuing your walk. The water would help clean it off.

He twiddled his webbed thumbs as he assessed his collection. Your reaction to his shells weren't telling in your preferences. He had given shiny and matte, textured and smooth. Different colors. Different shapes. You reacted the same to each. Maybe a conch would gain a better reaction, or a starfish. After all, these were his favorite of his collection and he cherished them. He wouldn't part with them unless it was for you. For you, he would give the ocean, his home. Just by hearing your voice, he was a goner. You would most likely never accept him, but he was your's. His first and only human. His... friend.

For a while after you left, he played your words in his head over and over like a trance. Questioning the meaning, the sounds, the way your lips moved around each word. He needed to see you again. The desire just to listen to you speak was enough to keep hopeful in his lonely, desolate life. Eventually you would stop talking, waiting for an answer that would never come from him, but for now you seemed satisfied with his presence.

The starfish was long dead, white with long spiked legs. The legs twisted in different directions. Had it not been found on land, the creature would have been eaten by now. But it's once slimy body was a solid shell now, even in water. He held it up to the sunrays sparkling against the water's surface a few yards above him. This was perfect, at least two visits worth, if not more. But he'll bring more shells to the next one, just in case.

As he studied the skeleton in his hand, the scent hit him like a wall. It was far. Miles. But it's a scent that hasn't graced his nose in what felt like centuries. Blood. Human blood.

His pupils grew large, nearly devouring the brown iris surrounding them. He was hungry now. An insatiable hunger he hasn't been able to curve in so long. The shell drops from his grip, long forgotten while his true nature takes over. He's swimming toward the scent faster than he's ever gone before. The teeth crowding his mouth ache with the anticipation, his fingers clenching so deep in his palms the sharp nails pierce his skin. He can't feel it, not when his brain has already pinpointed the exact location of his meal.

As he dives past the shore you would meet him, he can smell your scent. At first he thinks it's just a lingering thought of you held by the water, until he feels the small vibrations in his chest. You're in the water, just not here. It nearly knocks him out of the trance, but the scent of blood is stronger as he nears land. He rushes around the curves of the sand and rocks, desperately trying to satisfy his overwhelming desire.

The drumming in his chest grew stronger with each mile closer. His heart beating fast enough to drill his ears. The water grew warmer as the sand crept up on the surface of the water, but it did little to stir him. He spotted the crimson dancing in the water, floating around the open wound like an arrow pointing exactly where he wanted. The legs stood knee below the water, hands gliding over the damaged skin attempting to sooth the wound.

His tail shot him toward his intended meal, the hunger uncaring on how close he was to land, and who would see him. A distance away the legs dribbled sweet, luscious blood into the water, unable to clot the wound. His belly twisted with the scent being so close, and he could barely remember himself in the moment. He licked his lips, drawing closer to the legs, reaching a webbed claw out before stopping two yards away.

He knew those legs.

The moment your feet touched the water, instant relief overcame you. The crisp water between your toes, delicately licking your ankles. The water was nudging you further in with each pull of the waves, enough of an invite to abandon your sandals on the shore and walk in up to your knees. It soothed the scratch and brought comfort to your mood. The waves absorbing the strain in your muscles.

Had you not come here for a purpose, you would dive in head first, letting the water devour you in a chilly embrace.

The water on this side was lighter, more clear. It's color around your knees now tainted a purpl-ish with your blood. It flowed in concentric circles with the natural movement of your legs. The idea of being eaten by a creature on this side of the town seemed infinitely worse with how gruesome the water would get.

The clearness meant it was easier to spot the tiny creatures swimming around the floor below. Small fish and crabs scouring to get away from your feet, while some fish, slightly larger, took up their confidence in getting closer to you. You watched as they bobbed back and forth, as though debating the distance. Curious little things, with no concept of danger. Their little fins barely handling the movement of the water.

The bloody water had started blocking the view of your little onlookers. Though you didn't want to scare them away yet, you leaned down and brushed a hand over the wound to clean it off. The fish, now intimidated, disappeared further into the safety of the water. Little specks of dirt and rock began floating around your calf, and the blood didn't seem to stop. For such a small scrape, the water made it seem like an open gash in your leg. You continued rubbing it, hoping the wound would magically clean with the movement.

Ahead of you, a dark shadow moved in the water. It was too far for you to make out the shape, but it was big. Sharks would never come out this far, you're almost sure of it. You took a cautious step back, afraid moving too fast would signal an attack. The shadow remained still, waiting. It could just be a large fish investigating the aroma of blood. Or a creature... the ones you were told to fear. The ones you were reminded of day in and day out growing up. The reason you weren't allowed in the water in the first place.

This one stayed put, not advancing nor abandoning their prey. They were studying you, you could feel it. Never coming close enough to be seen through the clear water, but also not leaving you be. Was it waiting for something?

Every inch of you wanted to kneel down and look under the water at your observer. It was dumb and would get you killed. But odd men throughout past generations had seen these creatures, described them in a variety of ways. Now you had the chance to actually see one. Tell the town whether or not the tales they told were really true. Draw a vivid picture for the scientists who gave up searching years ago.

You took a step forward, back to your original spot in the sandy floor. The shadow remained still, floating like a dark cloud on a sunny day. It's attack inevitable, but the wait was worse. Your heart was beating so loud, you could have sworn the water was vibrating from it. The circles around your knees had nearly dissipated before you took another step into the water closer to the shadow. Still it remained. The water was now at your mid-thigh, bouncing around with small kitten licks up and down your skin. One half step forward and the water just barely grazed your crotch. Your shorts turning a deeper blue as the material sucked up liquid.

Your fists curled at your side, the anxiety consuming your senses. The world had grown quiet as you waited. Further in now, the water wasn't nearly as clear. The tint a bit darker, the floor murkier. Your feet were only a blurred shape now. But you waited, still. As did the shadow. With each dip and reach of the waves around you, the chilly water was starting to cause goosebumps across your skin. You barely noticed the blood on your wound had stopped flowing, too focused on the task at hand.

The possibility of the creature escaping was high, and much more frightening than the thought of what it could actually do to you. The idea, however, instantly fell away once it moved an inch closer. And then another. So slowly it crept forward, a long cylindrical shadow floating just above the sand, deep enough to stay blurred under the water. It had stopped about a foot away, weighing the next move. You could see the head, rounder than its body, swaying in the water. Hair.

Thoughts of your death overtook your mind. It could be a while before anyone even noticed you missing. No one would check the water. No one would think you were that stupid to do the one thing you were constantly told not to do.

The creature drew closer to your feet and you froze in place. It reached in front of it with a bright, pale arm, stopping centimeters from your toes. The hair floating around its head in a messy crown. You took a deep breath and held it before you felt the cold touch on your foot... of skin. The creature's other hand mirroring the same actions on your other foot. It was soft, delicate, experimental. The touch would have gone unnoticed except for the temperature, and the fact you were seeing it.

The hands slid up to your ankles, poking a little at the bone, feeling the curve and dip of it. It tickled a bit, but you remained still. This creature could change it's mind at any time, and you could instantly become food. If it wasn't just checking out its meal beforehand.

The fingertips glided further up, inspecting the bone running along the front of your calf, the muscles cushioning it around. You noticed the fingers neglecting to touch the wound. The touch had become firmer, more sure you wouldn't suddenly take off.

As the hands reached further, you were able to make out more features. Long nails at the end of each finger, the digits webbed together. The arms bony thin, but muscular enough to withstand the strength of the water. They contoured with each pinch against your leg, testing the dexterity.

You looked past the arms, to the hair. Little brown curls bounced with the sways the creature gave to stay afloat in the water. The hair was long, shiny in the sunlight. Under the hair was a thin torso, bones wriggling with every arm movement and rock of its body. The pale skin fades into a glittering collage of turquoise and blue scales. The tail was round around the hips and tapering off into a thinner shape near the tail fin. You could only really see up to the middle of the tail before the water blocked the rest from view. It was beautiful, awe-inducing.

Your attention was too focused on the shape of the creature to notice it had dipped its head closer to your legs. The eyes surveying the wound closely with a specific interest on the open skin and spots of clotted blood. The fingers poking at the skin around it, causing it to flush and return back to color.

What the fuck was he doing? He should have swam miles away by now, as far from the human standing before him as possible. Your presence unfaltering in the water was enough to keep close. He could still smell your blood, and his hunger never faded, but something new was happening. He could feel it.

Your foot had brought you closer once. Then twice. Then again. He could see up to your round thighs now, and felt the urge to feel them. Your legs looked so lively, pumping with blood, your muscles moving under your skin. He was almost jealous. You had legs.

He approached cautiously, afraid he would scare you off, but you stood your ground. From the floor, he could barely make out your face. Your head a featureless circle sitting atop your shoulders. He probably looked the same to you.

Your feet looked so strange, little toes leading into flat-topped feet. And you had two! The veins jutting along the top reminded him of the shell he gave you. Textured, but soft. He felt along your ankle, wondering the mechanics behind it. His fin flowed, no bones to withhold movement. How did humans swim with such strict bodies?

As he came up to your shin, he did his best to ignore the wound and instead took to studying your muscles and bones. Your skin was slightly thicker here than your foot, more porous, but less bumpy than the veins on your feet. You were so warm, so soft his hands could glide along your skin. You were everything he wasn't.

Your skin was flexible when he pinched. He could push and pull it to his every whim. The skin would grow lighter under his pushing fingertips and then back to normal when he pulled them away. Dead bodies never did that.

He really did his best to ignore the wound, but the look of the open flesh was magnetic. He was so hungry, but the thought of hurting you made him nauseous. Instead, he inspected it closely, pulling himself closer to look at it. His nose inches away from your leg. The blood was no longer drifting into the water, but scabbed. The skin was still open, a pink-ish hue peeking through the skin. Something in his brain flipped and he did it without second thought. Sticking his tongue out, he leaned in and licked along the open skin. It tasted divine. He gripped onto your ankles holding you in place as he licked again. And again.

He nearly dug his teeth in, letting his instincts take over and shutting his brain off the world, but then he remembered it's you. He let go of your ankles quickly, pushing himself back a bit as if he was the one hurt. His arms hugged his torso in comfort, his tail curling under him. How could he go against his true nature like this? Turning down his own needs simply because you interested him? His people would be so disappointed. They would scorn him, banish him to the deepest, darkest parts of the ocean.

You stood there still, probably worried you did something wrong. Your feet digging into the sand beneath in anxiousness. He hugged his tail closer as you started turning away to head back to shore. The thought of chasing after you to continue this little introduction was enticing, but he was already disappointed in himself enough. He stayed curled up there long after your feet left the water, even after the sun went down.

His stomach gurgling in his little ball was the only sound he let himself hear.

You were admiring the figure when it had jerked back suddenly, as though your skin had burned it. One moment it was exploring your legs, the next it was curling up on itself. Was this something natural? Did you scare it? Your thoughts were racing, your toes digging into the sand. It stayed like that for a bit, not attempting to move toward you again. You had overstayed your welcome in the water, and the creature had enough.

Turning back to land, you glanced once behind you to see the creature still in the same position. Maybe another time you'll meet again. For now, this was over.

You reached the shore, your shorts dripping at the bottom, but you couldn't find it in yourself to care. Your sandals lay in the same spot you left them on the sand and you dug your toes into them with a slight hint of fury, aimed at yourself. You didn't think you did anything wrong, but your focus was so occupied, you may have flinched and scared it. Or maybe something on your skin hurt it. All your thoughts were blaming you for ruining the moment.

You glanced down at your legs for a moment to notice the wound was gone completely. As though it was never there in the first place. The creature had healed you.

taglist: @luna-munson83 @harrys-tittie @jobean12-blog @idkidknemore @sister-cirice @xxaestheticboyxx @frodofreakingbaggins @ajeff855 @maddieluvseddie @untowardghost @secretdryrose @eddieswifu @hellfire1986baby

Thanks for reading, lovelies!!!

#eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #siren!eddie #siren!eddie munson #siren au #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #mandi writes #parkermunson

[radioactivesweet]

I don't know how to ask this, my English is not very good, I hope you understand! What would make Hades, Tesla and Hercules feel insecure around their y/n?

This turned out kinda angsty??? Hope it's fine either way! Btw these characters really break my heart now that round 8 has ended too I really am speechless

Hades usually isn't insecure. He is prideful, what the other gods can only aspire to be. This same greatness and magnificence lead to fear and awe. He is the King of the Underworld, he whom rules over the Dead - the dreaded one, mortals and gods alike fear him. The only thing that could make him insecure is that one day you too, the one ray of light in the Underworld, will fear him. That you will listen to those gossips and rumours about him, that you will notice just how much frightening and devoid of any redeeming qualities he actually is.

He fears, on the other end, that the dark Underworld will deprive you of your brightness, leaving you being nothing but an empty shell, the ghost of the shining deity you are. Because that's what the Underworld does to its souls.

Nikola fears failure and the feeling of not being enough. He fears that one day will get tired of his continue research and never ending and pointless experiments. He wants to feel worthy of your love, he wants to prove himself and, despite his pride, he often feels like what he is doing isn't enough, as if he isn't going anywhere. You will grow tired and disappointed - and he really doesn't want to. He doesn't want to be seen as a disappointment, he needs you to keep believing in him, in his intelligence and capabilities. He want you to keep believing in his dreams too. Everything would be useless if you were to stop dreaming with him.

He is not an artist, but you are still his muse - and he wouldn't know how to keep going on if you ever were to stop inspiring him.

Heracles thinks you may look down on him one day. Reject him for his humanity, for not being enough for a god. He loves his humanity, his perspective being different from that of any other god and wouldn't change it for anything in the world. Yet he fears one day you will stop loving him for what he is, that you too will grow to despise his human side, that you will see him as a lowly demigod, just like everybody else.

He fears his own indecision, how his resolve may fail you, how lost he sometimes feel becuase of his own dualism - not knowing which side he should take. One day he believes it will lead to him losing you.

#nikola tesla #heracles #hades #record of ragnarok #record of ragnarok x reader #shuumatsu no valkyrie #ror #snv #shuumatsu no valkyrie x reader #hades x reader #heracles x reader #nikola tesla x reader

[bella-rose29]

beautiful people

requested by anon: hi hi! Can I request Anthony Lockwood x reader fic inspired by the song beautiful people by ed Sheeran?

lockwood x gn!reader (made it gn bc there wasn't a gender specified, hope that's alright anon <3)

I am so sorry that this took so long anon 😭😭😭

Word count: 2.1k

Warnings: set after the empty grave but I don't think there are any actual spoilers (but you've been warned anyway), I think that's the only thing? edit: there is a very big huge massive spoiler that's mentioned in one sentence so be careful

tag list (I just copied and pasted from deck the halls bc I'm tired and couldn't be asked to search through everything, so feel free to not read this if you don't want to): @ahead-fullofdreams, @aislinrayne, @anathemaloren, @anthgoldenhrry, @augustisintheair, @avdiobliss, @aysha4life, @bobbys-not-that-small, @briar-rose23, @curseofhecate, @dangelnleif, @edible-rat-vomit, @el-de-phi, @ell0ra-br3kk3r, @ettadear, @fearlessmoony, @fudosl, @idkbubs, @imaginebeingmentallystable, @informedimagining, @karensirkobabes, @lady-ashfade, @light-23, @locklyebrainrot, @locklyle1kanij, @locknco, @magicandrosewaters, @mentallyillsodapop, @mischivana, @mitskiswift99, @mrsklockwood, @mrsyixingunicorn10, @newbooksmell777, @no-morning-glories, @novelizt, @phlooper, @ran23sblog, @reggiepeterss, @simrah1012, @somethingrandomwatzit, @star-of-velaris, @superpositvecloudshipper, @t2sh0, @taygrls, @tournesol77, @whistle1whistle, @whenselenefallsinlove, @wordsarelife, @y0urm0m12

Lockwood was buzzing with unreleased energy, which made sitting next to him on a plane incredibly difficult, since Y/n just wanted to punch him in the face. They loved him, but they didn't need his jitters when neither of the two of them had ever flown before, let alone been out of the country.

It was a private jet they sat in, the vehicle sent by some rich person from America who had invited the famous ghost hunting agency from England to a week in Los Angeles. While George had initially seemed sceptical of the plane and it's abilities to carry them safely across half the world, he'd deemed it good enough for travel. Lucy and Holly were joining them too, although both were far less happy about it than Lockwood.

"It's basically a huge shell of metal that hurtles through the air. Why do you think I've been for three nervous pees in the last ten minutes, George?!" Lucy had stressfully said to George after he had questioned her multiple trips to the toilet.

Y/n had gone along because Lockwood had asked, despite them having only a vague connection to the agency's work. As a member of the general public, they didn't often get involved in the actual ghost hunting (Talent had never turned up for them which meant fighting was extremely dangerous, and they quite preferred being alive), but often could spot things that the others couldn't when looking at the history of a building, or a family, or pick up on the more human things in meetings as opposed to being solely focused on the Visitors.

Their other link to the agency was a lot stronger, because they were dating Lockwood.

Naturally when he'd asked if Y/n would be joining them on the agency's one week trip to America they couldn't say no, not when he was smiling at them the way he had been, and now they found themselves wondering why the hell they let him have so much of a hold on their heart.

It was the middle of July, too, and there was a freak heatwave as they were leaving England. It was nothing compared to the temperatures they would be met with in L.A., but the English were never made for heat.

"Oi," Y/n said softly, prodding Lockwood in the leg closest to theirs. "Stop bouncing, you're making me more nervous."

He cast them a small smile, tilting his head to look at them. "Sorry, my love." They could tell he was nervous too despite all the smiles and bravado he'd shown earlier, more so than when he went out and risked his life every night, and they grabbed his hand.

"People do this all the time, right? And George very kindly worked out the likelihood of us dying in this thing-"

"One in a million chance!"

"Thank you, George!" Y/n sighed, turning back to Lockwood. "But my point is, we're gonna make it there, and then we'll have an incredible, completely free holiday, and then we'll make it back to Portland Row, alive and in one piece, yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Hey. We're Lockwood and Co. And you're Anthony bloody Lockwood." He smiled wider at that, a huge grin taking over his face and making him light up.

"That we are," he replied, pressing a kiss to Y/n's forehead.

~~~

They had only been in America for about an hour, and already the agents were exhausted.

It didn't help that the plane journey was long, or that their internal body clocks were telling them it was well past their normal time to go to bed despite it being barely evening in Los Angeles. It seemed to be that the darker it got, the more people there were, which didn't make sense to any of the agents. While ghosts were no longer being created, many still hung around and caused fear, and it was strange for Lockwood and Co to be walking around in the dark with no rapiers, or even a spare flare.

Fancy cars drove past, one of them stopping (on the wrong side of the road; how did anyone drive correctly if they were doing it backwards?!) and opening its door to let the agents in. George squeezed in first, then went Y/n and Lockwood, and Lucy and Holly pushed their way into a seat a moment later. How they fit the five of them combined with the ten? eleven? people already in there Y/n wasn't sure. Music was blasting through speakers that weren't even visible (seriously, where was the music coming from?) and coloured lights flashed across the interior of the car. They had cars in England, of course, but this was much fancier than anything they had on their side of the world. People were drinking and dressed in fashion that looked futuristic to the five of them, and Y/n could feel the others shift in what little space they had as they looked down at their own clothes.

Then there were the questions.

At first it was difficult to understand their voices, since the accents were thick and everybody was talking at once, all trying to be heard over the music. Then it was difficult to answer their questions, because they were asking about phones and movies and music that none of them had much knowledge of in their technologically-different world. When they learned that Y/n wasn't even an agent, they wanted to know what exactly their role was, which was also difficult.

"He's my partner," they shouted (it was too loud to talk any quieter), pointing at Lockwood.

"So you're not... you're not an agent? You're just here?"

"Uh... yeah. I help on cases sometimes though!"

"Oh, cool!" the woman yelled, then immediately moved onto the next conversation. Y/n settled back against Lockwood, feeling his arm come around their shoulders. They looked at George, noting his bewilderment at the hidden speakers, and then at Lucy and Holly who were trying to figure out how to use the phone that someone had given them. It didn't even look like a phone; it was far too flat and small to be of any use to anyone.

They were all just trying to figure everything out, but even those who were being really nice to them could tell that the agents from London didn't fit in too well.

~~~

The party was far bigger than anything Fittes had ever thrown, and the five of them felt very underdressed, despite how fancy they had gone with their clothes.

Two hours in, Y/n was trapped in a conversation with a group of people about some event that had happened recently and was apparently a worldwide controversy, and they were being asked their opinion on it.

"Uh... I don't really know what's happening, to be honest." It was awkward, being looked at like they were some sort of alien, and Y/n felt themselves shrinking the longer they were stared at.

"Do you not have the news over in England?"

"We do, but normally it's... English news? Our technology got severely stumped growth-wise because of the whole 'there are ghosts now and they can kill you' thing, so..."

"Oh, yeah, sorry! I forgot that you guys are behind!" It wasn't said with any malice or anything, but it only served to make Y/n feel worse about not fitting in with these people. They tried to inconspicuously look around for Lockwood, but within seconds he had appeared at their side and was spewing some excuse about needing to borrow them.

He took them outside to a balcony, and although it was still crowded there was at least a cool breeze. "You alright?"

"Yeah. Thank you for that."

"Anytime," he smiled, pressing a kiss to their cheek. He seemed jittery again, and Y/n wondered if all the flashiness was finally getting to him.

"Are you alright?" they asked, startling Lockwood slightly.

"Oh, yeah." He wasn't particularly convincing in his answer, and Y/n raised their eyebrows at him. "I mean, I know I'm always going on about being front page all the time, and getting famous, which we are on the front page, and we did get famous, but this is... it's a lot." He paused, looking around at everyone gathered on the balcony. "It feels... weird, too. I'm not sure what the right word is yet. Everyone is almost too fancy, if that makes sense."

"Yeah, I know what you mean. I keep thinking I'm really underdressed and should borrow a really shiny bin bag instead," they joked, noting someone walking past who was dressed in something that looked very similar.

"You don't need to change a thing, my love. You look stunning as you are." Y/n felt their face heat up at his compliment, and hid their face in his body. His laugh made both of them shake, and his arms came around to hold them close to him. "I mean it. I don't think you could look more incredible if you tried."

"Lockwood," they whined, dragging out the syllables in his name as their face lit up more and more. "Stop it, seriously."

"What, I'm not allowed to tell my partner how wonderful they are?"

"Not this much in one go!" He only laughed again, and Y/n couldn't prevent the smile that came onto their own face.

~~~

Their last night had been spent much like the others, only this time it was only Lockwood and Y/n and the driver of the posh car they had been loaned for the week (once people remembered that the five English visitors couldn't drive, they had been provided with a driver as well as just the car).

The week was basically over, complete with drives in convertibles, gifts of expensive designer clothes, trips to fashion shows, constant questioning from people wanting to know who they were, and what they do, and who they know. George, Lucy, and Holly had stayed back at the hotel they were staying in, too tired to do anything else, but Lockwood had taken Y/n out, saying he wanted to spend their last night in Los Angeles together just the two of them.

They seemed to drive for hours, in reality not travelling that far from their friends, but the lack of destination meant that they were doing constant laps of the city. Not that it mattered, because neither Lockwood nor Y/n had any idea where anything was. Everything was tall, and imposing and fancy and bright and beautiful, and for the most part Y/n sat staring out the window, watching all the lights as they passed.

Lockwood was watching them, a fond smile on his face, seeing the lights reflected in their eyes like stars.

There had been constant lights the whole week, people with cameras at every event they attended, and while Lockwood was more used to bright things (since he had such strong Sight he often had to use sunglasses to stop the glare from a death glow), Y/n was squinting against the flashes. At one point Lockwood had brought out his sunglasses, despite the darkness of the sky, and handed one to Y/n while putting his own pair on his face. He kept his arms around their body at all times, whether it was just carelessly slung over their shoulders or tightly wrapped around their waist, because he didn't want to lose them in the crowds.

The agents really didn't fit in well in America, but they couldn't help it when they were just being themselves. He had figured out what the word he had been looking for on the balcony all those days ago was, too. He realised it as he gazed at Y/n, who had propped their face up on their hand, resting their elbow on the car door. All those people that they had met, at fashion shows and parties and everywhere else they had been, were too perfect, too fancy, too beautiful. It felt far too extravagant, even for Lockwood, and although he had thoroughly enjoyed his time in America he was looking forward to going home.

Because that's who Y/n was to him, and he knew that he was home to Y/n. It didn't matter if they went back to wearing their second hand clothes that were worn out and cheap, and it didn't matter if none of them understood how to use a smartphone by the time they left tomorrow morning, because that was who they were.

They were Lockwood and Co.

#lockwood and co #lockwood & co #anthony lockwood #anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x you #lockwood x reader