#if you use your degree to look down on and mock other people you are just a fucking asshole

[lnkedmyheart]

The blog of the person I just blocked has red flag energy. Like imagine getting so mad at bsd fandom kids because they kin Dazai because they feel some sort of connection to a character with depression. I'm sorry bro, not every 14 year old Dazai fangirl can be a "severely traumatised monster with manic depression" as you put it. Glad YOU get to kin him extra hard with your lit degree and mental health issues but let's not gatekeep a fucking bunch of pixels on a screen and squiggles on a page and shit on kids just having fun, specifically young girls. It's not 2014 anymore.

#saying this as someone with a masters in lit and an Mphil in lgbt in lit and media #if you use your degree to look down on and mock other people you are just a fucking asshole #an unlikeable ass that nobody likes #reading books doesn't make you better than other people hun

[rendezvouz-fling]

Astro Observations #18

• I’ve noticed Water suns especially Pisces are really good at playing the Villain’s role in movies/series! They’re the types of villains you’ll easily remember and love to hate! E.g. Martin Kove (who plays the ‘no-mercy’ Sensei Kreese from The Karate Kid trilogy and the Cobra Kai series), Thomas Griffith (who plays the jack-of-all-trades eccentric Terry Silver from the 3rd Karate Kid movie and the Cobra Kai series) and Jacob Bertrand (Eli Moskowitz a.k.a. ‘Hawk’ from the Cobra Kai series) are all Pisces suns. Also Sean Kanan (Mike Barnes from the 3rd Karate Kid movie) & Dallas Young (Kenny Payne from the Cobra Kai series) who are both Scorpio suns.

• The main characters in cheerleader movies like the Bring it on series are mainly Leo and Libra suns while the mean girls are mainly Water suns. E.g. Solange (Camille from Bring It On: All Or Nothing) is a Cancer sun and Rachele Smith (Avery from Bring It On: Fight To The Finish) is a Scorpio sun.

• Venusians tend to be very attractive!! They might be known for their good looks and subconsciously or not might just have good taste in fashion/aesthetics.

• They can also be known as good singers.

• Aquarius moons are the type of relatives that distance themselves from the family as they grow older or they just go M.I.A. on their relatives lol.

• Aries placements are the ultimate ride-or-die friends. Prove me wrong.✋🏽

• Water placements are really good at drawing/sketching!! My mom is a Scorpio sun/mercury and my dad was a Scorpio mars and they both draw REALLY good.😭 No wonder it passed down to me (Pisces sun/venus/uranus).💗

• Water risings have such a chill, affectionate nature it’s really cute!!😩💞

• Capricorn placements are so hot and attractive for what?😭

• Aries suns with Virgo moons and Aries mercuries are so feisty and cute!! They’re very driven, humble and get so excited when talking about their passions!! 🤎

• Aries sun-Taurus venus men are the types to be into sports and music! Some of them love 70s music and might be into James Brown!😂💞

• We all need a funny, blunt, energetic Sagittarius venus in our lives!

• Taurus sun-Gemini venus men culture is playing video games 24/7 and saying funny things to try to make their crush laugh.

• No because I can assure you a Fire mercury/mercury in a fire degree, will always add in their 2 cents even if you didn’t ask.🤣

• Some Cancer risings with Leo moons might feel fulfilled when those closest to them start telling them they’re starting to mature more and they’re proud of them.

• Virgo moons with Aries mars and Cancer risings WILL call you out on some petty shit. They don’t like to hold stuff in.

• Christian Leo suns 🤝 trying to justify their actions with “but in the Bible it says’ every time they get into a conflict yet they’re being hypocrites themselves.😭

• One thing Air placements will do is try to talk/sneak themselves out of situations.🌚 “They used to pull me over and ask me out on dates.” Said by La Toya Jackson (Gemini sun/mercury and Aquarius moon/mars)

• Aries mercuries can be so passive aggressive lmao.😭

• Capricorn mercuries can also be clowns with their logical humors!😭

• You better believe an Aries mercury/rising is going to raise their tones if they feel like your not getting their points.

• Virgo moons hate lying and hate liars.

• Parents with Water/Earth in their charts especially in their big 3 don’t like to hit their children.

• Sagittarius moons will listen to what you have to say then add onto them in a slight philosophical sense.

• Virgo suns with Libra mercuries and Leo mars love talking about people’s outfits and mocking other people.😭

• Fire mars parents are the types to embarrass their kids in front of other people by arguing with them/calling them out on the smallest things while Water mars parents are the types to embarrass their kids around their friends by being too bold and sometimes friendly sometimes mean lol.😭

• Water/Earth mix in the big 3 to love animals and nature! My mom’s a Scorpio sun/Cancer rising/Virgo moon and she’s obsessed with cats lmfao!🤣

• Capricorn/10H placements and their good/hard-working reputations are so attractive!

• Virgo placements are normally the health nuts and might complain about the back of their knee hurting this week and their stomachs hurting when they’re full the next. 😭

#astroblr #astro community #astro posts #astro placements #astrology #astro observations #astro blog #pisces sun #cancer sun #scorpio sun #venusian #aquarius moon #aries placements #water placements #earth placements #gemini venus #leo moon #sagittarius moon #libra mercury #rendezvous-fling

[cerise-on-top]

Hello!! How would tf141 react to a very sassy reader? Like sassing them out for no reason what so ever?

Hey! Like this, I think!

TF141 with a Sassy Reader

Price: He can appreciate some good sass, as long as it’s appropriate. God knows how often he’s been sassed by one of his soldiers, especially Gaz, so he doesn’t mind it, to some degree. You can sass him if you want, he’ll sass you back if he can think of a comeback that’s fitting. However, if you sass him for the sake of being mean to him instead of trying to get a good chuckle out of something, or maybe making a situation less dire, then he won’t be as appreciative of it. Don’t get me wrong, Price could shout at you if he really wanted to, but he’d much rather make you feel some guilt and remorse for inappropriate behavior. Although it’s fairly rare that happens, it will happen if you get on his nerves too much. Will then ask you if you think what you said was really appropriate in such a situation. You can then apologize still and all will be good as long as you keep your mouth shut. Once he’s calmed down, you can crack a joke at his expense again. Again, he’s used to such things as a captain, but keep it professional and stay polite, for the most part, and you won’t have a problem with him.

Gaz: He sasses you right back. He’s not particularly afraid of authority as long as they’re up for some good natured fun. So it really doesn’t matter if you’re above or below him rank wise. As soon as you open your mouth and some sass leaves it, he’ll immediately have thought of something to say in retaliation. I wouldn’t be surprised if you small sass battles could go on for a while. It’s a game to him, the first person that doesn’t know how to respond anymore simply loses, end of story. Will slightly mock you if you did lose, though. After all, you use such big words, and then you lose to him of all people? Surely, you can do better. It’s not impossible to out-sass Gaz, but he always has something stupid to say if he can, so it would take a while before you could properly beat him at his own game. He doesn’t give up easily either. Even as the conversation is about to be over, if he can think of something to say he’ll just say it. Sort of ends up looking forward to talking with you, sometimes he just needs to be a little shit who runs his mouth without any consequences. Sassing Price sometimes brings consequences with it, but not with you. With you he’ll be as lightheartedly mean as he can be.

Ghost: He’s been shit talked so much, he doesn’t really care anymore. He’s a scary and intimidating guy, so naturally people have something to say about him. However, most of them usually don’t have the courage to say anything like it to his face. So yeah, he would be a bit surprised if someone actually did sass him for a bit. Would go quiet for a moment, processing that someone just said something mean to him. When he wants to be, even Ghost can be a bit sassy himself, though in his case he usually just ends up sounding mean more so than anything else. Will “sass” you back when he can. It’s a bit intimidating from someone like him, especially since his sass borders on threatening, but you can be sure he won’t go through with it. He just really wants to see how far he can push this entire thing and what he needs to do in order for you to stop running your mouth and cower in fear as well. That never comes, however, so he ends up sassing/threatening you a bit as well. I could see you becoming buddies over this, it’s really rare for someone to talk to him like that. It makes him smile when you can think of an especially good comeback. Might sass someone alongside you, if they really deserve it.

Soap: He definitely has some fun with you. Although he can be quite sassy himself as well when he wants to be, he usually just hops on the jokes of other people. Sees you sassing him as some kind of challenge, so you can be certain he’ll challenge you right back. After all, if you can run your mouth then surely you can prove yourself as well, right? It’s all a competition in his eyes and he’s somewhat of a sore loser. Though, if you really are all talk and there’s nothing behind what you’re saying, then he’ll get Gaz involved as well, thinking that, because his buddy is very sassy himself, there will be some fun sassing going on. He’s usually right, but he still stands by what he said: You should be able to prove yourself after everything you have to say. Soap doesn’t take too kindly to being sassed for no reason whatsoever. He will take you up on what you said and will have you do it better than he does. If you are better than him, fine. You get to run your mouth as much as you want, he can’t really complain then. However, if you end up being worse at something than he is then he’s earned every right to sass you to hell and back instead. It’s all fair in his eyes. If you improve you get to sass him again, but good luck.

#cod #cod x reader #john price #john price x reader #price x reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #john soap mactavish #john soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #I don't really have much to say today either #except I made a new blog #after much consideration I finally caved and made a new one #I made it because I got another peculiar request #plus writing is the only thing that's fun as of right now #even if my rules still apply. still a bit annoyed at the fact that quite a lot of people don't read them #it's mostly just the character limit but come on. you can still read my rules you know? it won't kill you #I'm thinking of genuinely just not writing requests where it goes bove the character limit #if you can't be bothered to read my rules then I can't be bothered to write your request #obviously this isn't for this request but I've gotten quite a few just disregarding my rules and it's starting to piss me off quite badly

[kitorin]

LOVE ALL PLAY. - ITOSHI RIN

THREE - TWO IDIOTS, A GENIUS, AND THEIR COMPANION.

contents. no warnings, smau

"I already want to go home." Rin mutters under his breath, thigh bouncing under the table as he stares at the first problem.

The combination of letters and numbers are quite grotesque, and the instructions are asking for far too much (how is he supposed to figure about what it was? It's unknown for a reason). Rin scrunches his nose in disgust at the sight, so does Isagi, who runs his hand through his hair while staring at his notebook. Shidou on the other hand was perfectly unbothered (as expected) as he displays discourtesy in the library's private room, resting his feet and legs onto the table (Rin thanks himself for sitting away from him).

"I need help." At least Isagi was willing to reveal his confusion, Rin reminds himself to listen in carefully to the explanation. It's not that math is too hard, but that he hasn't seen anything like this before.

"Save it 'til the end. I'm working on somethin' for a bit." He doesn't look away from his phone, and from the way he picked his nose and watched with half lidded eyes, he obviously wasn't concentrating on anything. "Wait for the others."

"Who? I thought it was just us." Rin diverts his attention away from the question, the mere sight of mathematics was enough to make him nauseous.

"'Was'." Shidou still doesn't look up from the screen. "Isagi over here found people willing to help your dumbass." Rin opens his mouth to defend himself, but Shidou continues before he could do so. "They should be here anytime soon, oh, they just texted. Finding us right now."

The senior's lack of attention and care only frustrated Rin further, he's not quite sure if he hates the word problems or Shidou more.

"Who did you invite?" He wants to trust Isagi enough to find someone reliable, but that was difficult after Yukimiya grouped him with Shidou.

Isagi remains silent, as he rushes over to the door to open it when he hears a knock. "Hiori! Thank you for your time today." He greets him enthusiastically, bowing at an almost 90 degree angle, mannerisms flustering the taller boy.

"There's no need to be so formal—We're happy to help and it'll be good revision for us, especially since it's earlier than we usually study." He ushers Isagi to stand up straight, reminding him that formalities were unnecessary since they were the same age. "You must be Shidou?"

Finally, Shidou puts his phone away. "Yeah, thanks for helpin' us out with this idiot."

Rin interjects. "There's two of us."

"No, there's one of you, and there's Yoi. Yoi's cute. You are not." Shidou doesn't even spare a glance in Rin's direction. "Your brother on the other hand—that man is adorable."

Rin scowls. "Don't even call him that."

"Fine, he's my cutie patootie."

"The fuck does that mean?"

Shidou crosses his arms in attempt to mock Rin. "He's my pookie bear."

"Worst one by far."

As Rin finds himself more disgusted by Shidou's peculiar infatuation with his older brother, Isagi and Hiori didn't pay much attention to their conversation.

"y/n's here." Hiori points at somewhere out the door, down the corridor and Isagi peers outside to check. "They were at the bathroom."

"And why is that fucker here?" Rin regrets speaking, his harsh tone making Hiori flinch. He had no problem with Hiori, but he can't help how the thought of you makes his skin itch with agitation.

Panicking, Isagi inserts himself in the space between Rin and Hiori. "I invited them—They're both really smart and willing to help."

"Rin Rin!" To which, Rin groans. "I had no idea you could read a book, let alone study."

He scowls. "Very funny. As if you haven't heard me answer our teacher."

You shrug, actions and words dripped with sarcasm. "I dunno, if you really were capable you wouldn't be here relyin' on us."

Rin remains silent at that.

"I already like them." Their senior cackles. "Shidou Ryusei, by the way." Hiori briefly introduces himself, and so does he.

Isagi leans over to whisper into Rin's ear. "Feel free to complain and object, if you're willing to pay for a tutor, or okay with not competing." Rin's reply is non existent, and the silence already feels awkward.

"Anyways, though I can't and won't guarantee any results I'll do my best." You announce as Hiori nods along. "Let's all do our best, yeah?"

Isagi grins, full of energy and determination, returning to his worksheet. While Rin was quite the opposite. You and Hiori unpack, laying out everything you'd need for the study session.

Only for you to turn on your phone

Hiori pokes your cheek. "y/n. Do I need to remind you that now's not play games? We're here to study, remember?"

The oldest in the room interferes. "Who cares, one round. I play too." He mimics your action. "I'll make the room."

"See? Shidou-senpai gets me. Surely one round. All together. I can actually play properly since my hands aren't soaked with sweat."

Hiori winces at the unnecessary detail.

Rin interrupts. "You're just going to play games while we study?"

"Oh I'm sorry, when was the last time you got passed a test. Primary? Kindergarten? Pre-school?"

With a scoff, he retaliates. "And when was the last time you grew? Infancy?"

To the best of your ability, you conceal your offense. "I'll have you know I grew an inch in the past year."

"And I'll have you know that I ace English every year." At least foreign languages had practical use for everyone. He doesn't need to fully comprehend and analyse Shonagon Sei's The Pillow Book or be proficient in mathematics to dominate as an athlete. Arguably, fluency in another language was most important.

"Only English?" You critique him in another language; what he'd assume to be Mandarin. "Only two languages?"

Great, now you have another thing to make fun of him for. Maybe he'll finally start learning French.

Hiori hits your shoulder and you yelp (he also snatches your phone while he's at it). "You can't be talking—you only know a few sentences of Mandarin and didn't get any of the tones right just then." Rin holds back a groan for falling for your antics, while resisting a smile from Hiori calling it out.

"I would've sold it if you didn't point that out."

"You're a scammer, not a salesman. Quit being immature and stop trying to compete with the poor guy." Hiori mutters out an apology on your behalf, as he drags you by the hem of your shirt to where Isagi was scratching his head over a problem. "I'm separating you two."

Rin likes Hiori, quite a bit.

Shidou nudges Isagi. "I like this y/n." Well I don't, Rin thinks to himself. "Here's the plan. We'll teach the subjects we're best at. I think you 'nd Hiori are fine with everything though. Straight As, right?" Rin doesn't care about grades, but knowing that you're maintaining a results as an athlete and proficient in academics has his skin prickling with envy.

"Yeah." You reply nonchalantly, peering at the problem Isagi was stuck on. "Not that confident with science though."

Hiori nods. "As long as it's not math, but y/n can cover for that anyways. I started learning English from a young age so I guess that's my best topic."

Shidou claps his hands together. "Perfect."

"You're actually so fucking stupid."

"I'm sorry I haven't been studying for every day of my life." Rin spat, clenching the mechanical pencil in his hand hard enough to the point he started trembling. "You're here to teach me not to act like a fucking dumbass.

"It's long division." You yell. "It's literally the same as regular long division but with 'x' involved."

"Well I can't do the one with polynomials if I can't do regular long division." It completely slipped his mind once he discovered that high school tests often permitted the use of a calculator.

The poor table suffers an indignant slam from you. "How? I've done this stuff since I could hold a pencil."

"Not everyone's the same as you." Rin wonders, what sort of childhood you had to already comprehend such concepts at a young age (not that he cares, it's simply curiosity). "You don't even need to know how to do long division, you have a calculator."

"Well some shit you just don't forget.'

"You're clearly wrong in that case."

"No you're just stupid."

Amidst the chaos within the tiny room, Rin can barely catch the gentle encouragement from Hiori to Isagi. Why can't you be like that, or at least, why can't Hiori help him instead? Shidou fucked off somewhere a while ago, Rin's relieved that he doesn't have to spend time with him; but that means more time with you.

He leans back into his chair, tossing the pencil onto the table. "Why can't you be like that?" He aggressively points in Hiori's direction. "Mature and intelligent."

Though hesitant, Hiori denies his compliments. "y/n's a lot smarter than me... especially in mathematics."

"Smarter or not, doesn't matter. I hate them."

Now you're slumping onto the table, nuzzling your face into your own bicep. "Love you too, sweetheart."

"Do not call me that—"

You cut him off by slamming your palm on the table. "Food. I want food. A break is well deserved, don't you think?"

Something tells him that it was directed to him, but Rin still responds. "I'm the one who needs a break. All you did was yell and it produced no results."

Your faux pout makes a return, as you make your way to Isagi, hands resting on his shoulders. "Think of everyone else dumbass. We've been locked in a room for hours—"

"You're free to walk out whenever, in fact, please do so. Now."

"You people need my genius—"

"The booking." Hiori interrupts. "The booking is finishing soon. So we're leaving soon either way." Relief makes Isagi pack everything up, stuffing it hastily in his shoulder bag. "And you willingly came here to study, stop hyperbolising everything."

"Hi-o-rin, we're getting food." Ignoring his scolding, you cling onto his arm, carrying the both of your bags while you're at it. "There's a nice place nearby, let's all go together." You sling your arm around Isagi's shoulder, pulling him in. “Surely we go get zaru soba too.”

Isagi falls for your charm—or what Rin would much rather call irritation. “That’d be nice. Where would you recommend, then?”

“y/n and I usually go to this place nearby. It’s a bit of a walk but it’d be worth it. They have other foods too if you’re more of a rice person.” Hiori had positioned himself between you and Rin, after weaving out of your embrace. “We can get ice cream from FamilyMart if we overheat.” He holds the door open for everyone, to which Rin bows politely in gratitude.

“I can’t.” Rin declines, partially because he prefers the quiet atmosphere of his home to eat; the rest of his reasoning is merely your presence.

What part of “I can’t” did you not understand.

Now he’s seated at a table in a crowded and noisy restaurant, thanks to you dragging him along (he's also confused at how you managed to pull that off). He’d be thankful that he wasn’t seated next to you, but that meant being forced to face you for the entirety of his meal.

There’s you in front of him (by Hiori’s side, of course), pondering a stupid decision while Hiori actually bothers to hear you out.

“Grape Calpis… or regular Calpis.”

“Can you even tell the difference between them?” Hiori’s fingers massage his temples. “Hurry up and give Rin the menu.”

“Yeah yeah, I know. You’re not my mum.”

Isagi interjects. “Which one did you pick?”

You hand the menu to Rin. “Milk tea.”

And with that Isagi returns to glancing over the menu.

“Ochazuke for me. Cold.”

“I’ll get the katsudon.” Isagi asks.

You stand up with a gentle slam of the table (what is it with you and that tendency?). “I’ll go order then. Hiorin, same as usual?” Your being to weave through people after Hiori nods.

“What’s wrong? Thinkin’ about somethin’?”

Isagi chokes on nothing. “No, I mean yes but it’s about y/n—”

Maintaining eye contact, Hiori takes a sip of his water. It doesn’t come off as intimidating, rather curious instead. “Have they been annoying you too?”

“Of course not—that’s just Rin being Rin.” Arms folded against his chest, Rin glares from the corner of his eye, but doesn’t say anything. “I hear a lot of people calling y/n a genius. Why is that?"

“Oh. That. Our club gave them that nickname because one, they're really good at school, and two, they were disgustingly good without knowing anything about fundamentals. And it didn't take long for them to learn it either, they were really awkward when first playing too." Hiori gazes off in the distance, grappling for the right words. "They're just naturally good at a lot of things too."

In other words, you’re one of those freakish beginners with a freakish start and freakish development.

Smart and athletic, you truly embody perfection, if character was ignored. Perhaps you made a deal with god, your sanity and maturity in exchange for skills others spend years refining.

“Good at school and sports. Must be nice.” Isagi sighs. “I still don't understand logarithms...what's your secret?”

Hiori shrugs. “Study. You get it after doing it a lot. Just ask y/n.”

A groan comes from the shorter boy. “Forget it, genius’ don’t have secrets. I’ll practice.”

Rin scoffs. “And how long are you going to stand there, dumbass?”

Hiori whips around to see you grinning. “Go on go on, keep praising me please.” You take your seat again. “Don’t worry Yoichi, just send me anything you need help with.”

Isagi nods, hesistant but determined.

“You’re going to be fine. If I can do it so can you.” You open your bottle of royal milk tea after distributing the other drinks.

“Thanks but we’re not the same…”

You yawn, eyes watering slightly. “I too have failed tests before. They’re recoverable.”

Rin’s heard stuff like this before. “Like what? A 99 instead of an 100?”

“30 instead of a pass.” Hiori covers his mouth to stifle a laugh, even going as far as turning away (it only made Rin feel more embarassed). “I knew I was screwed so I wrote an apology on my test paper. And that is why, you people should trust me when I say you’re going to do great. Eat well. Sleep well. Practice consistently.”

Check, check, almost check. It can’t be too different from learning English.

Hiori slaps you on the back, loudly. “Quit yapping when we both know you already only do the first.”

“And you’re no better—” The volume of your speech is quickly turned down by the waitstaff’s presense. “Thank you for the food.” Effortlessly you switch from your annoying self to a polite customer.

“Rin, Yoichi, don’t think about exams too hard. We don’t even know the dates yet so you’ll catch up fine.”

Rin trusts Hiori’s rationality—and yours too (he’ll never admit it out loud), as his picks up his drink and brings it to the centre of the table midair, against everyone else’s.

“Excuse me—?” Hiori calls over a staff member. “Can we split the bill please?”

She smiles. “It’s already been taken care of.”

“We paid already?” Isagi’s perplexity was evident. “I don’t remember doing that.”

“And you’re remembering right, dumbass.” Rin was confused as well, but Hiori seemed to understand the situation perfectly. The moment the waitress left he almost pounced on you.

You were unfazed by the attack; effortlessly dodging it and grabbing your bag while doing so. “My treat! Thank you and well done for your hard work today.” Out the restaurant you go, followed by a mad Hiori, attracting a few concerned glances.

“Oi—come back you fucking idiot. Let me pay equally dumbass.”

“Wait for us—” Isagi scurries out of the diner booth, ushering Rin out to chase after them. “Hiori—!”

With a tired sigh, Rin follows.

Rin pockets his phone, staring out the train's window instead. You're seated in the seat in front of him again, a similar configuration from lunch, but with Hiori by his side instead of Isagi.

You peer at Isagi's screen. "Your team group chat actually looks fun. Can I join it?"

"It's called a team group chat, of course not." Hiori objects on Isagi's behalf. "We have our own, anyways."

"You either leave me on read and Nijiro only responds with emojis. At least Kurona's fun and sends shark pics." Rin begs Isagi to not surrender to your pleas, the majority of that group chat was already irksome enough.

"Maybe stop spamming it with your reactions to a show that's clearly too scary for you to watch at 1 am."

You retort playfully. "It's not spam if it's beautiful, intricate media analysis."

"What part of screaming about shirtless Ahn Hyo Seop says intricate, or analytical?" With the way Hiori snapped, the gentle boy in the library room was nowhere to be seen. You must have a talent for ruining others' composure.

"Appreciation, of art?"

You continue bickering with Hiori, Isagi as a poor viewer. Rin watches too, in a much calmer way while Isagi awkwardly observes your squabble (and thanking the train for being so empty).

Only when you get up to shake Hiori by the shoulders (a stupid resort in a stupid debate about actors and actresses), Rin bends over to reach for your bag, hand reaching for the zip, an ephemeral disappearance into your bag.

When you have enough of quarreling with Hiori, it was as if nothing happened, you plop back into your seat, not noticing a thing; Rin leans into the backrest, going back to gazing out the window.

TWO | MASTERLIST | FOUR

pairing. itoshi rin x reader

synopsis. all itoshi rin ever wanted was a peaceful high school career, his plans go to ruin thanks to the school's badminton genius; entangling their lives—and emotions together.

contents. rivals to lovers, badminton player!reader, sports romance, fluff, high school au

a/n. hardest part is always the fucking title i swear to god

taglist. @yuzurins, @silly-ez, @chigirizzz, @kaiserkisser, @httpshujii, @saesins, @yoimyas, @saetorinrin, @hxniplayz, @certaindreampost, @rroxii, @jar-03, @celestair, @satoruskitchenrag, @kaitfae, @biaonww, @hellothere9597, @its-ur-pillow, @saesofficialwife, @miyanaranagikenmal-intp, @popponn, @kascar-chronicle—bold means i cannot tag you

© kitorin : do not repost, plagiarize, change, or translate

#love all play - kitorin #!queued #blue lock #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #bllk #fluff #itoshi rin #rin itoshi #rin itoshi x reader #itoshi brothers #itoshi rin x reader #isagi yoichi #reo mikage #mikage reo #itoshi #bllk smau #smau #social media au #rin #bluelock #bllk rin #bllk itoshi rin #bllk x you #bllk fluff

[arealphrooblem]

A Good Roommate Is Hard To Find Part 2

I was blown away by the response to something I banged out without much thought.! I've received several asks about continuing this so here is part two! Thank you everyone!

Synopsis: Civilian has harbored a secret crush on his roommate for a long time, only to find out that said roommate is the newest villain on the scene during a robbery at his job.

Part one here

CW: named characters (juggling two unnamed male characters pronoun wise was just a huge headache)

“Salt?”

Ben stared at his roommate from across their tiny kitchen table. Two bowls of soup lay before each of them, accompanied by folded napkins and spoons and glasses of water. The formality instantly raised his hackles. Whatever happened to eating on the couch while they watched stupid youtube prank videos?

Fear and anger twisted and blended into each other until he didn’t know what was responsible for the maelstrom in his chest that the hot shower did nothing to calm down.

“How long?” he said instead.

It was the question that plagued him the most. Did this start before they met? Had Ben lived with a stranger in a mask this whole time? Or did it start later? Did something horrible happen to make Adam desperate enough to try villainy and could Ben have prevented it?

“How long has salt been around?” Adam asked blithely. “I don’t know. Probably at least a thousand years or more. Did the Romans use salt? You’re the history nerd, not me.”

“Don’t mock me,” Ben snapped. “You know exactly what I mean.”

“Do you really want to know?”

What fucking kind of question was that? But Adam tilted his head to the side, the look in his eyes deadly serious.

“Because if I tell you,” he continued, “that could implicate you. Once you know, you can’t un-know. And Heroes have ways of making you talk. There’s no way they’d believe you didn’t help me all this time.”

So consumed with the fear of Adam himself, Ben never thought to be concerned with anyone else. Now a new fear dug its roots into him.

“There’s no way they’d believe it now,” he said, heart thudding again.

“They would if you were genuinely clueless.”

Or if I turned you in Ben thought. That was the other thought that had plagued him the last few days.

Now that he knew, what was he supposed to do about it?

“But I don’t intend on you talking to anyone about this,” Adam added.

Again, Ben’s hackles raised at the certainty in Adam’s voice. He swallowed, mouth suddenly dry.

“How would you stop me?”

He didn’t mean it as a taunt. He knew Adam was dangerous, but not how. Did Adam have powers or weapons? What plans did he have for Ben?

“You don’t want the answer to that question either,” Adam replied softly. “But know that I would, if I had to. I’m capable of anything when I know it’s my best option.”

The lump was back in Ben’s throat, making it hard to swallow. He could stomach the lying, even understand it a little. How do you tell your roommate that you’re the one behind all the recent robberies and arson?

 And Ben could handle the crimes, for the most part. This city ate people alive and anyone not obscenely wealthy had one bad accident standing between themselves and homelessness.  So far Adam’s crew had only targeted places  with large payouts. They took hostages when necessary but had no casualties so far.

But the threats? The knife at his throat? The lack of hesitation before launching to dark promises of violence hurt Ben the most. Even without his stupid crush, they had become friends the last three years. Their lives had become enmeshed with each other’s in a domestic intimacy that went beyond two people who simply shared a space.

 Adam knew his allergies and what restaurants to avoid because of it. He knew Ben’s parents and siblings. He knew Ben’s failed dreams and useless history degree. They shared shampoo and lonely holiday dinners and a Netflix account.

Ben thought he knew Adam the same way. But now all that had unraveled, and though he never harbored the hope that Adam could return his affections, seeing how easily Adam could threaten his life as if Ben never meant anything to him . . .

The knife would hurt less.

“What . . .” Ben swallowed again, his voice coming out choked. “What do you want me to do? I can move out. Leave the city.”

Adam’s eyebrows shot up. “Leave? You can’t leave!”

 Hope rose ever so slightly without Ben’s permission. But when had it ever listened in the first place?

“I can’t afford this apartment without you.”

And there it went, dashed on the rocks.

“Haven’t you been . . .earning extra income,” Ben asked hesitantly.

“Not enough to cover your portion of everything for more than a month or two. Besides . . .I only get a small percentage of the cut. I need you.”

Boy, would Ben have loved to hear that in literally any other circumstance.

“But I’m a liability now,” he protested.

“Are you?”

Adam got a certain look in his eye anytime they played strategy games. It didn’t matter what kind — Among Us, Monopoly, chess, Street Fighter. His mind always worked five steps ahead, thinking of contingency plans for contingency plans, and Ben knew when that glint showed up in Adam’s eye, he was about to lose. That he had lost long before he even realized it.

“Here’s the way I see it.” Adam leaned forward, elbows resting on the table. “You hate living with your parents and you don’t want to leave the city. I can’t leave because I’m . . .in the middle of things. If either of us were to move out, we’d both have to find another roommate and the odds of us finding people that work as well with us as we do with each other is impossible. We would both be miserable.”

“You think I would be more miserable with a person who didn’t threaten me with a knife?” Ben asked.

And the answer to that question was yes, but Adam didn’t have to know that.

“What if they never turn the light on when they piss at night and get it all over the toilet?” Adam countered. “What if they eat the last of all your snacks or move their obnoxious girlfriend in or never empty the dishwasher before sticking their dirty dishes in?”

Objectively speaking, Ben would rather have a knife to his throat one time than deal with any of those on a constant basis.

“We know how to live with each other. We’ve developed a routine that has worked for years. This doesn’t have to change anything. It’s not like I haven’t been doing this for months while you had no clue anyway.”

“You will never trust me not to snitch,” said Ben.

“If I’m in jail, then how are you going to still live here with any kind of sanity? Better yet — if I’m thrown in prison because you ran your mouth, how are you going to be safe from retaliation from my boss or crew members? How are you going to avoid your own prison sentence for being an accessory? Is it worth your life to put me away?”

That last question hit him hard. He knew it was cowardly and stupid beyond measure, but he couldn’t bear the thought of blowing up the little life he’d carved for himself here. It didn’t amount to much, especially to his parents, but he loved it all the same.

“No,” he told Adam softly. “It’s not worth it.”

He loved his life and he loved Adam and he loved his life because of Adam and it all fed into each other like one writhing ouroboros.

Adam leaned back again, looking devastatingly smug. “I didn’t think so.”

“So . . .what now?” Ben bit at his lower lip, the nervous tell that always gave him away in poker.  “What do you want me to do?”

“Eat your soup for starters.” Adam nodded at the bowl in front of Ben. “And then give me your phone.”

“My phone? What do you want with my phone?”

Adam leveled a flat look over the table. A look he shot at Ben frequently over the years when Ben made a particularly bad pun. He used to love making Adam give him that look. Now it felt tainted with an undercurrent of a threat.

“Eat your soup, Ben.”

Ben ate his soup. It came out great, almost as if they had just ordered it from the restaurant that inspired it. Adam didn’t cook often, but when it did it outshone Ben’s rudimentary skills. And when they both finished, Ben cleared the table, almost on autopilot, because the person who didn’t cook did the dishes. It was one of the first routines they established.

Usually Ben hated washing dishes which was why he volunteered to make dinner so often. Tonight however it offered a soothing distraction, much more effective than the shower Adam insisted he take. Right up until he felt Adam’s hands on his thighs, sliding up to the edge of his front pocket.

“What are you doing?” he yelped, dropping the spoon with a clatter.

“Looking for your phone.” Adam’s voice pressed right against the shell of Ben’s ear.

His fingers wriggled their way into the pocket, tight in old jeans Ben should have thrown out when he graduated. His breath stuttered in his chest at the intrusion, which lasted only a few seconds, and at the triumphant snort against his ear when Adam slipped the phone out.

He swallowed thickly, throat tight for a very different reason than before. Adam stepped back, the heat of him gone just as suddenly as it appeared. A glance over his shoulder showed Adam leaning against the stove, brow furrowed as he typed in Ben’s password. Because of course Ben had given it to him, thoughtlessly, for vague future emergencies.

“What are you doing to it?” he asked, nerves fluttering in the pit of  his stomach. What if he didn’t get it back?

“Precautionary measures,” Adam replied distractedly. “I’ll give it back in the morning.”

“The morning?”

He spun around, soap dripping from his hands. Adam leveled another flat look at him.

“Do you want this to work or should I get another knife?” he said.

The blood drained from Ben’s face. His eyes darted over to the knife block, sitting just inches away from Adam’s hip. There was no way he could reach it in time — not that it would matter if he could. Clumsy and inexperienced, he’d only hurt himself and save Adam the trouble.

“I just . . .want to know what’s happening,” he said, eyes prickling for the second time that night, goddamn it. “You don’t have to keep threatening me.”

The cognitive dissonance of having Adam so carelessly threaten him, pulling a knife on him — Adam, his best friend that he lived with for years — felt like it could split his head apart. Life was starting to not feel real anymore, like he was in a video game instead. Or a nightmare.

Adam’s expression flickered, looking almost stricken, before Ben turned away. He rinsed what was left of the suds from his hands and then turned the water off.

“I’m going to bed,” he said, even though it was barely dark. “Keep the phone.”

Then he walked straight down the back hall to his bedroom. Adam called his name, almost too softly to hear, but Ben ignored him and shut the door.

He locked it too, for good measure. Not that it mattered. Sleep did not accompany him much that night.

Part Three

#villain x civilian #hero x villain #m x m #my writing #friends to enemies to lovers #writeblr #named characters #a good roommate is hard to find

[majaloveschris]

I think they should be the ones calming each other down, and they seem to have the exact opposite effect on each other. 

///

This is what bothers me. As you mentioned it would have been expected and normal for them to be bothered by the things people say yet real couples don't look embarrassed like he does or smug like her, they take comfort in each other, and to a degree they can act mad at the public for what they could say.

Take Florence Pugh as an example, she dated a man older than her and when people started talking about that she took a stand and told them to f-out. That shows that you care about who you are with, not leaving pedo comments on your IG or your friend liking tweets mocking them or walking with your shoulder up and like you would prefer that the earth swallows you whole than being next to that person.

If this is 100% real, it's the coldest, loveless, most pathetic, and toxic relationship I have seen and I fear for those who believe that this is a “fairytale” everyone should want.

Yeah, they always look as if they are forced to be around each other and don't seem to enjoy each other's company. As we both said, those words would be hurtful for everybody, but that can't be the explanation for the way they act. They are cold and distant with each other, not with the public. It's like they make each other anxious and uncomfortable.

As you said, Flo was in a similar situation; I think the age gap was even bigger there, but they didn't try to prove anything; they were living their lives, minding their own business. At least, I don't remember it.

Age-gap relationships will always be something people talk more about, because that's how it is. This is something both parties have to consider when you are about to be in one, especially if you are famous. I think if this was real love, they wouldn't be acting like this, and they wouldn't be trying so hard to prove that it is.

People love using the "you are just jealous" thing, as if we didn't have enough reason to not like her or believe this isn't real. Even if I wanted to be together with Chris, why would I want him to behave like this when I'm around him? To act as if I'm just a burden to him, a job that he needs to get done? I don't see the huge love some people talk about. He looked way more into Minka, Jenny, or Jesus, even in random interviews. So no, it's not about jealousy.

#majaloveschris #chris and alba pr #chris and alba relationship #cevans-love

[fangirleaconmigo]

We all know that Geralt loves his bard, but do you think he finds it a bit funny when Dandelion’s students respectfully calls him “Master Dandelion” like he’s a very responsible and sensible person?

Hi Anon! Oh that’s a hilarious thought. Ok here’s how I would imagine it.

Geralt to other people when Dandelion isn’t around:

He’s a Master Tutor at Oxenfurt, you know. Master of the Seven Liberal Arts. Graduated with top marks, and he barely even studied.

Geralt to Dandelion’s students when Dandelion isn’t around:

He isn’t just your Tutor, you know. He is famous. Properly famous. Probably the most famous bard on the continent. Did you know that?

Gerald to other professors when Dandelion isn’t around:

My friend Dandelion is on the faculty here. They beg him to come lecture, but he always puts them off. I guess he finds it more interesting to run around with me. *shrugs smugly* Real world experience, you know. First hand knowledge. It probably makes his lectures just a little bit more interesting. A little more concrete and accurate.

Geralt to Nenneke: he’s a—-

Nenneke *sick of his shit*: I know, you’ve told me, a Master Tutor. He’s still an idiot.

Geralt, very pointedly, to the clerk at a campus bookshop who says he cannot sell Geralt the book he wants.

That man out there is on the faculty. *points at Dandelion, who is standing outside the shop doing something stupid like trying to take off his coat and getting tangled in it* HE is very fucking important. You’re lucky he’s even standing outside your shop. Are you sure you don’t want to sell me that book?

Geralt, alone with Dandelion:

*when Dandelion is drunkenly rambling pure bullshit* Ha! Is that what you teach your students, oh great Master Tutor? And I thought Oxenfurt was supposed to be a great bastion of learning. They should close that place down. Turn it into something useful, like public latrines. Then there’d be an explanation for why you talk nothing but utter shit.

*when Dandelion is obnoxiously psychoanalyzing him* They give those degrees to anyone don’t they? Random assholes just walking by on their way to take a piss get handed a *mocking voice* master of the seven liberal arts.

*when Dandelion admonishes him for some kind of careless behavior* Well I guess you should have taught me better, great Master Tutor. Maybe you aren’t such a great Master Tutor at all.

*when Dandelion is being irritating at a brothel* Be good, or they’re gonna make you master your own tutor. *looks very pleased with himself*

*when he is getting bad service at that campus bookshop so he goes outside to hiss at Dandelion*

What the fuck good is your fancy godsdamn degree if it can’t even get me the one book I want (the taxonomy of reptilian land monsters) at the campus godsdamn bookshop? Go tell that kid you’re on the faculty, or I’ll burn your degree for kindling. It’d be more useful warming my fingers so I can more comfortably pick my nose.

(And on and on)

#the witcher #my geraskier headcanons #my witcher headcanons #geralt of rivia #dandelion #thinking about dandelion yet again #Jaskier #gerlion #Geraskier #asks #my dumb headcanons #amusing myself here on this fine wednesday morning #i just may have pulled a little tiny bit on my own experience #as a first gen college student #who has family who is very very proud of me #but would be mortified to just directly tell me that #so they express it via roasting me #as it should be #i know exactly what they are trying to say

[winteringthesnow]

On Ice

How Bad/Good are the LMK characters on the ice?

Characters: Sun Wukong, Macaque, Nezha

Sun Wukong

Oh yeah, he’s not doing this. 

He will stay outside watching until your finish skating cause he can’t chase after you in the rink and drag you out of there to go somewhere else cause he is afraid to get on the ice. But with enough convincing, he will try it. You gotta do a lot of convincing though.

The moment he’s on the ice, Oh no, you have to keep your eyes on him, cause one blink and he’s already on his butt and is crawling to the side to get himself up. Is embarrassed af. He does not like the fact you’re seeing all of this and laughing your ass off, especially if you know how to Ice skate to a certain degree. 

When you try to help him up from the icy floor, you have fallen at least once because this man is HEAVY. Somehow you both do get up and his hand just never leaves yours. He is on you 24/7, and he is never letting go of you. He is clinging on to you for his dear life and you think it’s cute af. 

You try to teach him, keyword tries and he does get the hang of it, sure. But the moment you let go, he is on his butt again. You reassure him that everything’s going to be fine and give him pointers on how to do it. But if you fall? You’re both fucked 

Compliment him, he thrives off on praise so when he gets it right or if he's close. Compliment him. It gives him so much motivation to try harder for you and would love to see the proud look on your face when he finally does it right

You offer him the polar to train on and hold on so he won’t fall. But every time he declines, because secretly he likes holding you, he likes the way you hold him. He likes how you affirm him, and how you encourage him. That you’ll risk your time enjoying yourself just to teach him. That you’ll risk falling on the hard cold floor because of him just for him to enjoy the experience. He is incredibly moved by the gesture but won’t say it, especially when you two aren’t dating. 

Is literally offended that 5-year-old kids could do it better than he could. 

If ever you try to help someone else like just help them up from the icy floor? He becomes very possessive and clingy. Like the moment this person is up, he just pulls you to him and either puts his arm over yours, holds you by the waist, or just hugs you from behind. After he makes his point he just tries to drag you away from that person, again keyword tries. It ends up you leading him instead.

If the others come along? I can't decide whether he likes them seeing you teach him or not.

Because on one point he likes that their eyes are on both of you. That you are teaching him and no one else.

But on the other hand, he feels inferior and that he needs teaching. That he needs teaching and someone helping him. He is so used to people idolizing him and putting him on some high shelf that he can't climb down on. He is so used to everyone seeing him as someone who is supposed to be perfect in every way so the fact that he can't do this? threatens him and his ego. It doesn't help that either Mei, Macaque, or Nezha (if he comes along) teases and/or mocks him about it.

So, when you don't look down on him and teach him instead, definitely surprise him and gladly take up the offer. That instead of making fun of him, mocking him, calling him out, or being disappointed in him. You teach him and help him. May seem like a little act to you but it means a lot to him. Just don't tease him about it.

At some point you both decided to rest in the lounge area and talk. waiting for the others to be down and after you both just wanna head home, just literally tired af. Legs hurt and your feet have blisters on them.

You cannot tell me that this man's butt isn't wet like his pants from his butt to his legs are just wet af. You both are him and just cuddle the rest of the day, because of how tired you both are.

The next morning? Ya, everything is numb and hurts at the same time. You can't feel your legs, feet, arms, and back. Your arms are involved to how heavy SWK is and he feels bad about it

Wukong would love to give a massage if he wasn't as tired.

Macaque

Unlike Wukong, Macaque is a pretty fast learner. At first, he won't be able to get it right but sooner or later, he gets the hang of it and boasts to you.

If you don't know how to skate then this man will tease you as much as possible, before helping you learn.

His hands are just on yours holding you tight, to make sure you wouldn't fall.

But if you do he will say something like "Already falling for me, starlight?"

He will say quips at any moment he can. Flirt with you as much as possible. Absoulutely use it any opportunity he can.

Soon when you do get the hang of it yourself, you two are just side-by-side, chit chatting

if he so happens to see Wukong slipping and falling, he will immediately call him out for it. he just lives of of Wukongs failures

You try to drag him away but he just proceeds to rant about how he hate SWK for the 12154414 time.

And you end up shutting him by kissing him on the lips

This definetly caughts him offguard and starts blushing.

"Pretty bold move, starlight? How 'bout another one? hmm~"

He genuinely just wants to have fun with you with the experience. If he ends up learning any tricks that he could possibly do, he would immeadeitly show off to you.

Though he prefers to maintain a calm and confident demeanor he will undoubtedly poke and prod at you, joking and laughing the entire time after you've both relaxed.

If ever you help someone when they fall on the ice and it isnt Macaque? Oh how dare you.

He's gonna be possesive af. No doubt.

Probably kisses you right in front of this person and just shoving it to their face about you're his and only his.

Slides his hands around your figure

You try to excuse yourself from this behavior with you face blushing red

He likes the sight very much and gives him so much pride that he's able to have an effect of you.

Is clinging on to you 24/7 at this point and won't let you leave his sight and you don't really mind cause you like his presence.

At the end of the day, you both are tuckered out.

He makes tea for you and ends with cuddling on the couch.

Anything you ask this man, he will immeadietly on his feet, getting everything you need to wind down and relaxed

His tail wrapping around either your waist, you leg or any part of your body that can make you closer to him.

He just wants your presence close to him at all times because it's so addicting for him.

You both binge watch some of his favorite musicals that you don't mind watching.

And if you like musicals? Even better!

Nezha

I can begin to describe how godly this man is on the ice.

I mean it's not a surprise right since he already skates on those rings of his.

Not only is he agile but he's also very fast. Whether you know how to skate or not, you wouldn't be able to catch up. He'd be gone for one minute and the next he's already next to you.

You know those tricks and twirls people do? Yeah, he knows how to do that too.

If you don't know how to skate, he will teach you. He's in front of you holding your hand while skating backward. Since fire is his whole thing too, his hands are warm in contrast to your freezing ones.

He will give you tips and pointers on how to balance properly and on how to glide on the ice without slipping

If you know how to skate thought? Like if your a proffesional?

Get ready to act the most amazing performance yet.

As music blared on the speakers, you both circled around with each other, eyes only on one another as the people stared in curiosity

People started to glide further away slowly to give you both space to perform and some others may have taken their phone to record the performance.

But none of you cared, moving on the ice with such precised and accurate moves, build from trust as Nezha would lift you of the ice and still set you down with proper grace.

Holding hands as you twirled around each other. Feeling the music and vibrations of the beat as you felt each other on rink.

Both surprisingly synced with each other albeit the whole scene being an impromtu.

You danced on the ice like swans on water, arms and a leg raised as held to steady you.

The cold air around you chilled your body but at every contact with him the warmer you felt as the freezing air became barely noticable

The songs ends as you heaved breaths. Calming down and finally stopped.

The crowd errupts to cheers as you sheepishly laughed at the praise

Later on, you both plan to have a weekly visit to the rink to perform your hearts out.

You both rested at home as you made hot coco for the both of you.

Your legs were numbed but you were somewhat used to the feeling due to the experience but he massaged it nonetheless to soothe your aching

The day ends with the both you cuddling bed and reminisced the memory you just made.

#Skating au #fanfiction #lmk #lmk sun wukong #lmk macaque #lmk nezha #sun wukong x reader #lmk x reader #macaque x reader #nezha x reader

[devildomditzy]

Pacts 2; Levi - A Mammon x MC Fic

Part one of ?

Haven’t read Pacts No. 1? Click here for the three part story!

🚨🚨:) this is still missing the final line on mobile and it’s displaying twice on desktop. i don’t know what to do about that :)

——————————————————————————-

Ah, nothing like a nice mist hitting your face on a hot day to keep you cool from the sweltering heat of hell.

Was it a light rain that suddenly moved in, uninvited? no.

Was it one of those flimsy tourist fans found at human realm theme parks that mixed a laughable amount of water into its foam propellers to bring your body temperature down?

of course not.

Was it your demonic boyfriend spitting out your shared bufo egg tea all over your face in shock at the words that had just left your mouth? bingo.

“YA WANNA WHAT?!”

“First of all, gross,” you grimace, wiping the remnants of the drink off of your cheeks and out of your eyes. “Second of all, I said I want to form a pact with Levi.”

“W-Why do ya need to go a do a thing like that for! You’ve got me! Ain’t I enough?!”

You can’t help the small smile that begins to form on your lips. Of course he’d get jealous over this. And while Mammon was certainly more than enough on his own for you personally, you simply couldn’t help but want to get closer to your newly forced housemates.

“It’s not that! You’re perfect. It would just…be nice you know…to have more than one friend here. And to maybe get to know your brothers more?”

“T-There’s no need! I can tell ya anything about them ya wanna know!”

“You know that’s not what I mean. I want to be friends with them!”

“And out of all of em to be friends with, ya pick Levi?!”

You roll your eyes at your incredulous pact mate. “Well, he was the first one to talk to me besides you. And he didn’t have to be forced to, unlike some people”.

While you mutter the last part under your breath, it was still loud enough to hear, causing a swift flick to your forehead from the second born.

“Oi! Do I gotta remind ya he used ya to make me pay him back? He saw ya as a means to an end! At least I saw ya for what you were.”

“Oh, and what is that?”

“A spoiled brat”, he mocks, ruffling a hand atop your head causing you to lightly push him back.

“Cmon. I didn’t make you and Beel marathon TSL for nothing! Levi’s not gonna just befriend some normie who doesn’t know their stuff! I gotta get good!”

“Gross! You’re even startin’ to sound like him.”

“Lol.”

“Ugh! Stop, I feel like I’m on a date with my brother!”

“Lmao. Rofl.”

“CAN IT!”

Mammon takes another irritated sip of tea before continuing, “How’d ya expect to do that anyway huh? It’s Levi we’re talkin’ about. The only person he’s nice to ain’t even a person. It’s a damn fish for cryin’ out loud!”

Your eyes twinkle in determination. “Maybe he just hasn’t met anyone like me!”

Mammon breaks out into a cackle at that one. “Yeah, you’re certainly somethin’!” He can hardly contain his laughter. “Aw shut up”, you shine, playfully pushing his shoulder. “It’ll work! I’ve already got a plan!”

“Ah- does this little ‘plan’ involve me?”, he questions, whipping away a stray tear.

You shoot him a mischievous look as you steal the cup away from him. “Yes, to some degree.”

“Damn. You’re really hellbent on this, huh?”

You nod in agreement. Of course you were, though why you could not disclose to the demon in front of you. You’ve heard someone? or something? calling to you from the top of that spiral staircase ever since you got here, the one Lucifer was determined to keep you from climbing. Unlucky for him, you were just as determined to get up there. The others must be suspicious too, considering the fact they’ve been dropping hints on how to catch Levi off guard.

Appealing to his music aficionado side with a rare cursed record was sure to work to lure Lucifer from the place his been guarding steadfast, but first you had to obtain said record. Of course, that’s were Levithan came in, the owner of the TSL record. Also, adding one more demon friend to your repertoire wouldn’t hurt. The more the merrier.

A TSL quiz, you wagered to the third born, to prove who was the biggest fan. Talking about TSL was about the only way to get him to interact with you, and it seems he wasn’t gonna budge. If he wants you to prove you can be a bigger dweeb then him, fine. So be it. As long as it brought you closer together.

And one step closer to the top of that staircase.

You stand up abruptly, wiping the front of your uniform off. “C’mon, we’re going to go talk to Simeon.”

Your lover looks at you with an annoyed gaze. “Ugh, why do I have to come? I don’t need anythin’ from the angel or the pipsqueak.”

“No, but you’ll do it because you looooove me? Or, you know, I could just command you to come with me?”, you point out, a crucial detail that he seems to forget often.

“Hey! You can’t play those cards! That’s cheatin’”.

You lean forward to place a chaste kiss on his cheek. “I learned from the best!”.

The second born (begrudgingly) grabs your hand as you walk towards purgatory hall together in search of Simeon at the behest of Satan’s advice. You needed something big to stump Levi, something he can’t one up you on, something that will make him jealous. And for some reason, it seems the answer to your prayers lie with the angel.

“WHAT!? Woah woah woah slow down! Ya mean to tell me you know what happens in the ninth volume of The Seven Lords!?”, your boyfriend questions, openly gawking at the angel sitting across from you.

Simeon chuckles fondly, “Is that so hard to believe?”. As you converse, Luke sits at his side, pouring you a steaming cup of devilwood tea all the while throwing the man sitting next to you a look that could kill.

“How do ya know all this? What happens to Geldie? To the Lord of Fools? To Henry? Ya gotta tell me!”, Mammon all but begs the angel.

Once again Simeon let’s out a laugh at his astonishment. “Let’s just say the author and I are…close.”

“Isn’t this a series of books? How does Mammon know about it? Does he even know how to read?”, pips the smaller of the two, still holding his glare steady.

“Oi! How dare ya speak to yer elders like that! Course I can read!”

“How long did it take you to finish all eight books?”, questions Luke in an innocent voice you can tell is laced with venom.

“Uh- I uh- I didn’t read the books. I-Im not some nerd! I watched the movies. B-but I coulda read em if I wanted to!”

Luke’s laughter fills the room as Simeon has to hold back another giggle.

“Shaddup, tiny! Even yer laughs sound like yapping.”

Luke snaps to attention at his comment, Mammon’s teasing.

“Hey! I am not a chihuahua!”, he shouts, crossing his arms across his chest.

You give Simeon an apologetic glance on behalf of your second half. He simply responds back with a knowing one, placing a hand on Luke’s shoulder.

“Luke, would you please go brew some more tea for our guests?”, he asks as gently as he can.

"Hmph!", Luke indignantly huffs as he snatched the kettle off the table and heads towards the kitchen.

Simeon settles back on the couch after watching Luke leave the room. Facing the two of you once more, he says, “I suggest the two of you make yourselves comfortable. This… may take awhile.”

#obey me #mammon #obey me shall we date #om #omswd #obey me mammon #obey me headcannons #obey me mc #mammon headcannons #mammon x reader #mammon x mc #obey me x mc #obey me fic #mammon x y/n #om mammon #omswd mammon #shall we date mammon #om mc #mammon headcanon #om! mammon #obey me levi #obey me leviathan #leviathan headcanons #om leviathan #om levi

[yandere-toons]

YOU'RE IT

The Collector – Platonic Scenario

WARNING: body horror, death, undeath, blood, hospitalisation, reality warping, mentions of religious concepts, psychological manipulation, toxic mindset.

A.N. - !יחי האספן

A GOLDEN THRONE reached halfway to the ceiling, and bordering it on either side were bowls of fire that stood upon thin stems made from metal. The fire was extinguished and then relit with blue flames, casting a warm glow across the green rug stretching from the foot of the throne to the doors.

The doors to the throne room were made of hand-carved wood taken from the forests of the Boiling Isles and were taller than any living witch. Opening the doors took as much effort as heaving a large rock, yet the Collector burst into the room with the ease of blowing a feather.

Despite never sleeping, the Collector dressed in the type of roomy jumpsuit and nightcap that someone who intended to stay in bed would wear.

Beads of sweat trickled down your face at how fast the Collector was carrying you through the air, your legs dangling above a floor that was approaching far too quickly for your old bones to catch. “Nay, nay! I'm not as spry as I used to be!”

The Collector slowed their descent with a groan of disappointment, but they kept their hands near you until you found your footing.

You stumbled forth with a lame leg on your right side and a cane in your left hand. The butt of the cane hit the floor at the same time as your foot, helping you amble to the throne. Your right leg clumsily landed beside the armrest, which you leaned against to stop and breathe for a moment.

“Buddy!” shouted a high-pitched voice with forced sincerity, and the dark-furred shape of something resembling a canine emerged from behind the throne. “I just had, like, the best idea. What if we had eight people hiding instead of just us three?”

As the Collector flew to hug the owner of the voice, your brain filled with static. The words exchanged between the two of them were hard to understand and seemed to be missing all meaning. The painful flutters in your chest returned, and by the time you deciphered one word, you had forgotten the rest.

After a few moments of staring into space, you shook yourself free of the mental mud and noticed someone was tugging at the bottom half of your clothes.

It was King, a bipedal, dog-like creature with an exposed skull for a head. Atop his head was a pair of long, straight horns, the left of which bore a sizeable crack at the middle.

He barely reached your hips, but you did not need to look far to see how his clawed paw was motioning to the doors. “I'll be back—uh, lickety-split!” King swung his arm forward in mock cheer, glancing at the Collector every other second to confirm that they had not gotten closer or were suspecting anything.

The Collector applauded the news with claps and laughter as they spun in a full circle.

King was gone for so long that you kept forgetting and then remembering that he existed and was supposed to be coming back, although the truth was, you did not know how much time had passed.

The large doors to the throne room were pushed open with a sweeping creak, and a group of five villagers walked forward in varying degrees of suspicion and curiosity. At the sight of you, four of the five villagers fell into hushed gossip and called you by an unfamiliar name.

King was scurrying at the flank of the group, his arms raised in a ‘Y’ shape as if to herd the much taller people in a specific direction. “Okay,” he shouted to ensure that his voice was heard, “here we are!”

The droop of his tail and the way he was tapping his claws together while glancing between the heads of the villagers were indicative of the knot twisting his stomach. “The old throne room. Just like I said,” mumbled King, dropping his gaze to the floor.

Murmurs of bewilderment and speculation spread from villager to villager as each one noticed the Collector, who had tucked their knees into their chest and were spinning vertically without rising or falling.

At the sight of additional players, the Collector gasped with joy and swooped to the front of the group with such haste that the villagers recoiled in fear. There was a cyclops woman, a two-headed reptilian, a humanoid with flaming purple hair, a shorter gremlin and Steve the former Coven Scout.

The Collector was shaking their fists up and down in an outpouring of enthusiasm. “Everyone, go hide! And I'll count to three hundred!”

Waving a hand as if it would dispel the fear leaking out of the villagers' wide eyes and clenched jaws, you babbled, “This place is a maze. I'll go get you folks a map.”

In the couple of minutes that passed in your absence, a thread of unrest was sewn into the group in the form of the cyclops narrowing her eye at the vacant throne. “Where's Emperor Belos?” she demanded, and the other villagers repeated the question while glaring at the cracks in the walls.

“Ol' Steve's gonna be late to brunch,” chuckled Steve, pointing a thumb over his shoulder at the doors.

The noise of confusion soared to outraged chatter until it had descended into overlapping chaos.

Once the Collector had finished counting to three hundred, they turned to search for the villagers. No one was even pretending to hide—save for King, who took one look at the Collector and backed away from the group—, and this caused the smile to slip from their face.

King scurried to the opposite end of the group and clutched Steve's gloved hand, tugging on it with all his might and thrusting a paw at one of the more distant corners.

Steve allowed himself to be pulled for a few steps before he crouched and looked at King with an air of friendliness. “Did you need something, little buddy?” His answer came as all the voices behind him ceased at once, followed by absolute silence.

You staggered back into the throne room with the map tucked under your arm to find it empty of people besides the Collector, Steve and King. The Collector was levitating next to a gobsmacked Steve by the throne, and King was in the furthest corner.

King was cowering half-draped under a tapestry of Emperor Belos, eyes shut and paws covering where his ears would have been.

After squinting your beleaguered eyes and opening your mouth slightly, you peered around the space. “Where has everyone gone? Did the game start already?”

The Collector floated over to you like a brooding child, head down and lips pursed into a pout. This discontent morphed into a smile when you looked at them for an answer. “I sent them to the Dark Place,” explained the Collector, and the unconcerned ease with which they spoke was that of someone describing the weather.

“The Dark Place?” you repeated with a hint of hesitancy, wondering if it was a nickname for a shadowy corner or a subterranean part of the castle.

“It's where the fibbers go,” they said.

The footprints made by the villagers minutes before were no longer visible; it was as if they had never existed.

Sweat gathered on your brow, and something on the inside of your chest tightened. You peeked at the entranced Steve, who was slowly rocking back and forth and groaning unintelligible things in an attempt to communicate.

Your eyes pulled back to the Collector and their unwavering stare, to which you offered a smile that you hoped was convincing. “You know, I changed my mind. Maybe we can keep the games between the two of us for today.”

The joy vanished from their face. In its place was a blank mixture of surprise and lost excitement. Within seconds, it evolved into curious happiness as they tapped their chin and outstretched their arms in a cheerful shrug. “Hmm, okay!”

Steve disappeared from the room with a snap of the Collector's fingers, and he was dumped on the steps outside Police Precinct 206.

A Coven Scout dressed in a golden and white cloak was stationed at the foot of the stairs. He watched as Steve bonked his singular horn on the stone step and rolled down to the dirt, shaking his head. “You've gotta lay off the Apple Blood, dude.”

In the Emperor's throne room, the Collector hovered upside down in front of you with their legs outstretched so that they could touch their toes. “What'd you wanna play?”

The names of a few familiar games tumbled through your head, but these thoughts were dashed by a twinge in your chest.

You pressed a fist to the area, gritting your teeth and squeezing your eyes shut at the pain around your heart. Even though the pain faded within a minute, the knowledge of what it meant did not.

A question sat on your mind as the weight on your chest during a nightmare, and it took you many seconds to gather the courage to ask it. “Can I visit my home?”

When you spoke these words, the Collector froze in midair and looked at you as if you had declared your hatred for the game of tag.

“We can play as much as you want after,” you added with a hasty smile, although you were not certain there would be an afterwards.

This enticed the Collector into gaining a wide smile and floating higher. “All right!” They held up a finger. “But just for a little while!”

Not sure how to piggyback on a teleportation stint, you assumed that there needed to be some kind of physical connection and extended your hands for them to take.

The Collector stared at your offering with an unchanged smile and no indication of movement, causing you to lower your hands slightly. This mild embarrassment at making what appeared to be a dumb assumption faded when they pressed their palms against yours.

A short burst of laughter came from them, and for a brief moment, you worried that the Collector was only messing with you about going home. However, as their fingers clamped down on your hands, the world around you became fuzzy and blurred.

* * *

FIREFLIES BUZZED throughout the hills and the grasslands that sloped between them, with each winged beetle emitting a greenish-yellow light. These dozens of glowing dots lit up the night like fallen stars.

A pleasant breeze swept along your neck and slithered through the grass, tying blades of it around your fingers and tickling the skin on your hands. It was a soothing coolness that was neither too cold nor too mild, chilling you just enough to relieve some tension in your muscles without ruining your ability to focus.

Air whooshed from behind, and the Collector sat beside you with their legs crisscrossed.

They rocked back and forth while gripping their feet, eyes becoming fixed on the various light sources scattered around the hillside. Their repetitive motion slowed as they leaned against your shoulder, which was stiff and sore.

The Collector moved off you and stood up, looking between the silvery light of the crescent moon pouring across the countryside and the glow of the fireflies illuminating it like helpful lanterns. “The world's so bright now.”

“When I first got here, it was all dark. I couldn't see much until that big bully came around.” Their curious face soured into a pout at the mention of the “big bully,” and they crossed their arms with a sulky glance to the side.

This frown was washed away in a surge of laughter as the Collector flew into the air and circled you. “And I didn't have anyone to play with! Not like now!”

You watched their flight as best you could, struggling to keep at bay the pain in your neck that struck each time you used those muscles. The exhaustion of a creature in desperate need of a long nap weighed heavy on you.

It had nearly overtaken you when the Collector plopped themselves at your side again, startling you into awakening.

The glowing eyes of the Collector raked the infinite number of white dots in the sky and, from their seat on a hill, saw beyond the lens of the most advanced telescope. They saw the giant balls of gas as if floating in front of one, seeing celestial bodies of blue, red, orange, yellow, and a few that remained white.

Their mouth opened a bit, and the words that came from their study of the cosmos were laced with wonder. “Your sky has so many stars.”

You looked down at the celestial pattern on their outfit and skin and spared a moment to ponder what stars were to the Collector; cousins in the same way that a bee was to an ant; children still new to the universe; ancestors from a past life—or just bright objects that happened to share a space with them.

“It's more than pretty.” You lifted your head to the sky once again, pointing a decrepit finger and tracing a constellation overhead. “People would draw pictures of this and say you could see bears and old heroes. Some of them base their whole lives around it.”

Sitting up, the Collector raised their hands to the sky with the thumbs and index fingers extended. They shut one eye and narrowed the other, sticking out their tongue as they adjusted the nearness of their hands like a painter judging the measurements of a subject.

With a satisfied hum, the Collector lowered their arms slightly and eyed the piece of the galaxy they had chosen. They then moved their hands sideways in a sweeping motion, and all the stars except for a small cluster were pushed away to different areas of the sky.

The grunt of shock and confusion that burst out of you went unnoticed as the Collector dragged each star in the cluster to a new position with one finger. A smiley face was etched into the night sky, looking down at you with its white-dotted face among the sea of black.

As boredom started to itch like razors across their mind, the Collector snuck a mischievous glance at you before tapping your shoulder. “Tag! You're it!” They propelled themselves off the ground in a flurry of grass blades and wind sooner than you could acknowledge the tap.

The outsized fabric of their sleeves and nightcap flapped in the air as they levitated far out of your reach, floating back towards the stars. The Collector began to swim in the night sky and swoop near the surrounding hills to give you a chance of catching them if you reached out at the perfect time.

The sound of uproarious laughter carried on the wind, and it pulled your weary eyes to the airborne shape of the Collector. “Chase me!” they shouted with so much childlike glee that it was hard to believe they were ancient.

You matted a spot of grass with the butt of your cane, heaving your rickety knees off the ground and fighting the shaking in your arms.

“Come on!” whined the Collector.

You pushed yourself to stamp the ground with your cane faster and drag one foot in front of the other quicker, but this tiny increase in speed was a joke compared to the Collector doing cartwheels in midair and zipping around the sky like a peregrine falcon.

A sudden flutter in your heart was the only warning that was given to you before your vision blacked out.

“Huh?” The Collector turned after the consistent thumps of your cane stopped, their excitement faltering at the sight of you tumbling down the hill.

Your eyes were closed, and your body was as limp as a wet handkerchief. You made no move to stand or pull your face out of the itchy grass. When your cane rolled into your shoulder with an audible thwack, you accepted the bruise that would surely appear.

* * *

YOU AWOKE to a pair of red and yellow eyes staring at you. The Collector had stuck their face as close to yours as it could be without touching, leaving little else in your vision besides the light and dark running down their skin.

The once steady rhythm of the heart rate monitor exploded into a series of rapid beeps, and your eyes widened in what the Collector assumed to be the joy of seeing them again. You dragged your arms from side to side across the cot and clenched handfuls of the sheets in a drugged, half-paralyzed attempt to get out of bed.

“You sleepyhead! You've been knocked out for months!”

Leaning forward until their forehead bonked yours, they placed a finger on the top and bottom of both of their eyelids and pushed their eyes open wider. A slight glow emitted from their eyes when they did this, and you wondered if they had taken the phrase “eyes are the window to the soul” literally.

The Collector did not need to blink, so their eyes were able to bore into yours for hours without any kind of interruption. They took advantage of this fact daily, leading to a recurring situation where your bedridden self was forced into a staring contest with someone who had the stillness of a mannequin.

On the first day of the third week, a new kind of tiredness seeped into you.

They glided around the side of the bed and swept one of your hands between both of theirs, tugging your arm. “Get up! Get up! Let's play,” sang the Collector.

No part of you possessed the energy to budge from their pull. Your limbs were like the heaviest stones, immovable and numb.

Your eyes fluttered to the heart rate monitor, and the Collector pondered the significance of its rhythmic beeps. “I'll be leaving soon.”

The Collector tilted their head. “Can I come with you?”

“No,” you answered with a feeble melancholy, your eyelids beginning to fall.

“But the game's not over,” they spoke with resistance.

Summoning the final bit of strength still clinging to your body, you lifted a shaky finger and pressed it to the Collector's shoulder. “You're it,” came a whisper from the last gust of breath rolling past your lips. The finger then dropped to the bed.

A high-pitched hum filled the room as the heart rate monitor fell to a straight line, displaying the number zero in the top right corner.

The Collector turned to cock their head at the change in the machine, but when they looked back at you to ask, your eyes had closed. “Huh? Don't fall asleep again.” They gripped your upper arms and lightly shook you. “We have lots more to play.”

Your total lack of reaction caused their eyes to glow, their frown deepening at the way you sagged in their hold like a ragdoll. “Wake up now.” The constant rise and fall of your chest had ceased, and the Collector wondered why you were holding your breath.

Before they could resort to anything else, a panic-stricken voice flooded out of the intercom and echoed down the hall. “We have a code blue in Room 528! Repeat: a code blue in Room 528!”

A stampede of footsteps thundered in the intersecting corridors outside the door, and the noise drew closer to the room with each passing second.

At the first sound of the doorknob jiggling, the Collector hurled an impatient look over their shoulder and threw out their right hand with a defiant, “No!”

Just as the doorknob was beginning to turn, a triangular shadow raced along the right arm of the Collector like a snake and sprang from their hand at the door. It constricted the doorknob and stuck its spearheaded end halfway through the centre of the door, splitting a jagged crack into the surface.

Muffled yelps and confused chatter erupted on the opposite side. The doorknob rattled as it was jimmied by multiple hands, and someone began to slam against the door every few seconds like a battering ram.

The Collector stared at your closed eyes as if attempting to see through your eyelids. “If you're playing peek-a-boo, I don't like it.” Your skin was cool to the touch now, lacking the natural warmth it had generated so many times before.

On the eve of the third minute of uninterrupted humming, the Collector's arm flew out from their side and aimed at the heart rate monitor. “Be quiet!” they yelled, and the machine was banished from this reality to the Dark Place.

Your lips parted.

Some of the joy returned to the Collector as they perked up in anticipation of hearing you speak to them and announce an end to this charade.

Instead of words, a ghostly wisp of light streamed out of your mouth and began floating to the ceiling.

It was your soul, realised the Collector, but the fact that it was leaving meant there was no more time to play. They rejected this truth by launching themselves off the bed.

The Collector jumped into the air and swiped at the ball of light. “Come back!” they shouted, chasing the soul with frantic swings of their arms but reaching just below it every time.

The soul was slow-moving until they came near it, at which point it zoomed higher.

As their attempts to entrap it grew sloppy and uncoordinated, the building started to shake. It was minor tremors at first, but the rattle of metal tools soon became audible.

When the soul passed through the ceiling with a blip, all the shaking and swinging ceased. The Collector stared at the spot on the ceiling where it had vanished, their eyes aglow with an intense fury.

No matter how much they willed it to happen, the soul did not return. The room was colder for it. The light was dimmer, and the colours were fainter.

Clenching their fists, the Collector screamed, “I said come back!”

Their shrieking of the word “back” coincided with the shattering of every window and light on that floor of the hospital. Lamps melted like eggs; lightbulbs exploded like popcorn; storms of glass shards flew through the corridors.

Yelps were drowned out by the cacophony of destruction, for the one orchestrating it was deaf to the pain of those outside Room 528.

A whimper was all the Collector mustered as they looked at your body again, their lips drawn into a pout.

The shadow holding the doorknob was retracted.

Just as the door was thrown open by a team of ragged nurses and a defibrillator cart, the Collector vanished.

* * *

DEEP IN THE CAVERNS running beneath the remains of the Titan's skull, there stood a door. It led to an infinite number of realms if the traveller paid the price of blue blood, but under the hand of the Collector, it opened without tribute.

Tubes of colour writhed in the doorway with a vivid array of sparkling hues, forming an image like a liquid galaxy. Among them, stars twinkled and opened the swathes of colour just enough for a glimpse into the endless universe that lay beyond.

The Collector leaned forward slightly with their eyes glowing, and the portal changed to a land of death and after-living: the netherworld. No sooner than they reached out a hand to pass through it were they ejected from the doorway in a sudden and harsh push that sent them flying backwards into the rock wall.

The buzzing that had risen in pitch when the Collector was flung had settled down to an idle hum, flickering in tune with the rotation of the matter inside the door. It pulled them to approach the doorway and, upon reaching it, tilt their head from side to side with a curious finger hovering next to their lips.

In the reflection of the portal, they saw long horns protruding from the top of the skull-like face of a Titan. The deity's eyes were black, empty sockets that contrasted with the white of the skull.

It lunged out of the doorway as little more than a silhouette, but the imposing physique of the Titan was familiar enough for the Collector to yank their hand away. A grunt of alarm escaped them as they were forced back until they fell to the ground.

The shadow of the Titan stretched to the height of the cave, and for a moment, it seemed more than a shadow. The gigantic outline of a creature long since laid to rest in the dirt towered above them.

Raising their head to follow its ascent, the Collector expected the Titan to swoop upon them in a great tide the way it had over three millennia ago. The memory of the humongous bones falling over them and pressing them into the abyss was as fresh in their mind as it was on the day it happened.

The Collector looked down to see the door, but they noticed the slightest shaking in their arms. It was a strange sensation of a fear forgotten, one that had been revived by the Titan and instilled in them to relive at the sight of it.

They dug their fingers into their palms and stilled the shaking. With the birth of an open-mouthed smile on their lips, all the light in the room was dimmed. An abrupt gust of wind swept the Collector off the floor and placed them on their feet.

The buzzes and whines quickened and swelled as the Collector threw themselves at the portal time after time, only to end each attempt with their back slamming into the wall. Shadows spilled from their fingertips and mutated the one cast by their body into that of an eldritch beast.

Darkness crawled along the walls, ceiling and floor in jagged shapes that moved with independence. The shadows splintered into waves of formless black that crashed over each other and swallowed the natural light of the sun, growing taller and wider until they began to scream.

They howled and shrieked with such power that the walls were shaken and dropped chunks of rock to the ground, and the shadows then mutated into grotesque imitations of people with mouths open in trembling fear.

The Collector was blasted against the wall for the umpteenth time, but on this occasion, they waited to get up.

The motionless face of the Titan mocked them from the far reaches of the doorway, taunting their upside-down position at the foot of the opposite wall.

Trading their frown of displeasure for a smile of schemes, the Collector rolled to an upright position and stood with one hand on their chin. “If I can't go, I'll just find someone who can.”

* * *

SCUFFLING AND INANE MUTTERING followed a crooked-backed warlock of many years, his staff swiping old scrolls to the floor and stamping it as he hobbled along. He came to a spot where the balcony ended and the start of the throne room behind him began.

The sun shone life into the flowers adorning the balcony, all of which had died and wilted into brown lumps except for a lotus. The warlock grumbled at the daylight and the long shadow he cast through it, only to reconsider the light when he noticed a second shadow beside his.

A rapid swing of his staff cut nothing but air. Laughter, like a child at play, echoed in the dimly lit room. It oozed from every crevice that the torches failed to reach, and the warlock yelled, “Reveal yourself, foul demon!”

The Collector emerged from a shadow on the wall, a wooden smile on their face and a glassy look in their eyes. “Demon?” They tilted their head. “I'm not a demon!”

They floated in such a way that they appeared taller than the warlock, a fact which caused him to bare his teeth and pull his staff to his body. Their visage of childlike innocence drew a vicious scowl from the warlock.

“Remove your mask of virtue!” he cried, and the Collector raised a hand to their mouth.

Their head bobbed somewhat as they delivered a snicker, keeping their bi-coloured eyes narrowed in an ominous expression that tore his sense of security away from him. “I don't think you wanna see that,” they chuckled.

The distant booms of cannon fire lay beyond the walls of the palace. The air reeked of smoke and copper, the stench of a battle waged unseen from the opulent drapes of the throne room.

The Collector smelt the fetid air, and their nose shrivelled. They stuck their tongue out in disgust and gagged with a comical “bleh!” before inspecting the warlock. “Does your house always smell this bad?”

At this, the warlock's eyes widened as if he had been struck by a revelation. “Are you,” he stammered, his defensive posture slacking, “are you here to turn the tide of this war? Have you finally answered my calls?”

With the fluidity of someone drifting underwater, the Collector leaned forward and slowly rotated until they were floating on their back. “You could say that,” they replied while looking at the mural on the ceiling instead of at the warlock. “I'm here to play a game with you.”

The warlock rushed to the balcony, clasping the guardrail and screeching his excitement into a city filled with soldiers shouting orders and peasants wailing.

“Adonai speaks to us!” roared the warlock, shaking his staff in the air and raising his hands to the sky as if reaching for the heavens. His raspy voice carried on the arid wind and sank into the mob below to evoke a clamour of responses, the loudest of which was the chanting of the name Adonai.

He whirled around and flung himself at the space below the Collector. “Great One, grant me power so that I may purge this realm of those who speak ill of my rule!”

The Collector floated back to an upright position, and they looked down at the grovelling warlock with a face of indifference. “Power?” Placing a hand on their chin, they squinted and hummed in thought. “You mean like all the magic in this world?” They outstretched their arms as if to illustrate the size of that much magic.

The warlock nodded his head so fast that the Collector wondered if it was going to pop off his neck. “Yes, yes! All the magic!”

A smile began to spread across the Collector's face, a foreboding and devious kind of smile. “Okay!” They turned and threw up their hands in acceptance. “But I'll need tribute.”

A sprinkle of relief crossed his face, and some of the tension in his shoulders released at what he perceived to be a simple task. “Of course, I can fetch you any number of souls.”

The Collector balled their fists and extended their arms to rigid positions at their side. “No!” they barked, and the warlock cowered. “I need one soul in particular.”

They then chose silence for a bit instead of giving the next detail, eyes drifting. “This soul is gone.” The noticeable pause before the word “gone” was a glaring sign that it had been substituted for something more final. “It's in the netherworld.”

Pointing his staff at the Collector, the warlock spoke with a booming voice. “Pray tell, O Great One, how may I locate this soul?”

From the space between spaces, the Collector lifted an amulet of blue and grey. It bore the same design as the one around their neck: the darker face of a crescent moon slotted against a lighter half-moon. “Take this,” they said, “it'll light up if you're getting close.”

The warlock held the amulet with his right hand, and with his left hand, he waved his staff in a perfect circle. “It shall be done,” were his last words to the Collector before a portal to the netherworld opened at the end of his staff.

A miasma of sweat and decay flooded the throne room when the warlock returned in a mess of panting and pallid skin. He fell to his knees, scrambling to catch the glass jar under his right arm before it hit the floor.

Levitating on the inside of the jar were the amulet and a ball of light, a soul.

Within seconds of his getting up, the warlock was bombarded with a pushy voice asking, “Did you get it? Where is it?” The Collector was floating upside down at his eye level and lurching after him every time he stepped back or recoiled in any way.

As soon as he pointed it out, the Collector snatched the jar and zoomed past him as if seeking privacy.

The warlock sunk into his robe and glared judgement over its collar as he thought they were going to shatter the jar and devour the soul like some ravenous beast, but they came to an abrupt stop at the edge of the balcony.

The Collector loomed over the jar for longer than was necessary, dragging their fingers across the glass and drilling their unblinking stare into it. The soul moved in the opposite direction of wherever their hand went, but this prompted the Collector to hug the jar in a fit of delighted laughter.

They pressed the jar to their chest and squeezed it while kicking their legs and spinning in midair.

“Great One, my magic! What about my magic?” The haggard voice of the warlock badgered the Collector in their time of joy, prodding them like a stick used to poke a sleeping bear.

Following a slow turn of their head, the Collector looked askance at the warlock as he stumbled closer to them with an impatient sweep of his staff. “You want magic?” they asked, curling their lips and narrowing their eyes into a devilish look.

The jar levitated out of their grasp and hovered in front of them. “Here you go!” The Collector outstretched their arms, and when they clapped, all the magic born in that realm was ripped from its place.

Gales of strong winds flowed into the throne room as every window and door was flung open, banging against the walls in a rush of whooshing and howling.

Rivers of light and colour, magic in the form of a vibrant ooze, plunged into the warlock and enveloped him in a blinding tornado.

The whites of his eyes swallowed his irises and pupils, and his feet lifted from the ground. The length of his staff tripled, as did his spine until he was contorted into the image of a demonic prince ready to command the legions of hell.

Horns like jagged antlers sprouted out of his skull and twisted themselves into the shape of a crown. The warlock's neck sagged from the weight of it, but he had no time to care when his jaw widened to accommodate the birth of yellow fangs on each side of his mouth.

His bones split, his muscles tore like the fabric of his clothes, and his body started to dissolve under the stress of the transformation. His fingers became elongated and curved into deformed claws, stripping away the cuticles and nerve endings until his hands went stiff as if struck by frostbite.

Cracks dashed across his skin and allowed droplets of magic to seep through them. The breaks in his skin began to peel and glow, forcing streams of magic to gush from his ears, nose, eyes and mouth in unstoppable torrents.

“It's too much! It's too much!” he bellowed over the sound of his skin crackling and blistering from the searing heat of the magic tearing him apart from the inside out.

With the last bit of vitality still clinging to his bones, the warlock extended his hand and reached out to the Collector for help. No one answered his plea, for there was nothing but an empty room looking back at him.

An explosion of overwhelming light then filled the throne room and brought his painful yells to an end. The warlock had splintered into pieces and imploded, leaving only his staff to clatter to the floor.

The cheers from the masses were deafening, but the Collector had not stayed to listen.

* * *

THE DEWDROPS of a recent drizzle hung on the branches and leaves of trees, blowing into the air with each gust of wind and landing on the Collector's face in cold plops. Some of the dewdrops flew to the sky after touching them, while others were repelled off their skin and sent back to the trees as if time had reversed.

A subtle glow invaded their eyes, and the Collector outstretched their arm and pointed their palm at the square of land in front of them. They hovered like this for a moment before squeezing their hand shut into a tight fist, twisting their wrist and cocking their head along with the motion.

The grass was torn from the earth in clumps of stringy dirt. Roots, seeds, and pebbles were swept onto the breeze surrounding the Collector like a shroud, and the petals of flowers split in twain glided in circles around the gaping hole in the ground.

From the depths of the earth, rising from a dark grave as if pulled by invisible wires, came a half-decomposed skeleton. There were no clear remnants of who it once was, save for a few scraps of tattered clothing and the rush of joy that filled the Collector at the sight.

Whereas the grass was ripped off the ground as if the ground had stolen it and deserved to have it taken away, the skeleton was slowly lowered to the dirt like a priceless piece of china meant to be handled with the utmost care.

The Collector floated down to a kneeling position at the side of the right arm. When both of their knees were submerged in the dirt, the wild breeze that had churned plants and branches like a typhoon fell silent. It stopped as if struck from the air by a mighty hand, and a wave of leaves and sticks then rained on the disturbed land.

None of this debris was allowed to touch the Collector or the skeleton. It had been deflected by a gust of wind every time it came near, falling around the pair in a cluttered and dense circle.

The Collector cupped their hands and held the shape close to their face. They pressed their palms together before cupping their hands again, and then a brilliant light spawned in the space between their hands.

It was a warm ball of light that started to flicker and shrink like a dying candle, one that contained the life essence of a soul displaced.

The Collector's eyes began to glow as the smile on their face stretched. They maneuvered their hands around the light but never touched it, instead choosing to hang their head over it and whisper, “Let's play together again soon, okay?”

The soul flared, burning brighter and whipping the air.

Under the silvery eye of the crescent moon, the Collector shoved the soul into the ribcage of the skeleton. A jolt rocketed through the bones in the form of both arms and legs twitching as if hit by a defibrillator.

Bones that had been threatening to dissolve and break apart collected fragments rolling up and out of the grave, fusing back together into a skeleton so complete it would have made an archeologist cry.

With a loud crack, the lopsided jaw popped back into alignment with the rest of the skull.

Fractures in the spinal column and right femur vanished as if waved away by a magic hand.

Crooked teeth were straightened, and bad knees were healed.

The flesh and innards returned with the blue of veins; the purple of blood vessels; the cartilage of the nose and ears; the red of muscles turning to the colour of skin; the body filling out with organs and fat—a crime against nature that did not go unnoticed by the great Titan in the sky.

You lurched up in a fit of screaming, shrieking at the agony of being dragged back to life. Your physical form reassembled around you in a mess of writhing tendons and misfiring nerves, and the Collector watched it all with a slow tilt of their head.

The unnatural length of their smile stretched wider as if they were playing with building blocks and had arranged the blocks into a funny word.

The shrieks spilling out of you were uncontrolled and mad, becoming clearer with the addition of a tongue until the issue of a limited lung capacity and a stinging throat forced you into silence.

As your new brain grappled with a flood of old memories, it spread a buzzing tingle throughout your skin that was like dozens of needles poking you at once.

Your breaths were quick, shallow scrambles for oxygen that you had grown unaccustomed to needing. Remembering how and when to breathe was an invasive and uncomfortable experience, for the air running through your mouth and puffing out your chest was akin to someone sticking their arms down your throat.

With the eyeballs fresh in your skull, you could see this corner of the world tucked away in a forest under a moonlit night. The taste of rain on the air; the smell of pollen; the dew on your skin; the hordes of trees; the chatter of nocturnal animals—it was all too much, an overload on your senses that had your legs kicking and your arms flailing.

It was then that a pair of small arms encircled you. An equally small body leapt onto your side with an eager burst of laughter.

They hugged you as a child would hug a stuffed animal, eyes closed and head resting on your shoulder. They seemed at peace, but just as their patience lasted no longer than a five-minute game of hide-and-seek, your frantic movements caused them to open their eyes and look at you.

The unearthly glow of their red and yellow eyes, like a pair of lanterns in the night, awakened a memory so deep that it bypassed any thought and sent you scurrying across the dirt. Cold and damp soil was crammed under your fingernails as your hands flung wads of it in every direction.

The Collector jumped up with the crescent moon framed behind their head, which cast a long shadow over the front of their body and dunked every bit of it in darkness except for their eyes. “You want to play tag already?” they asked, feet beginning to lift into the air.

There came no pain from moving your neck; no wrenching in your chest; no wobble in your knees; no brain fog to suck the thoughts out of your head—a vile disease had been ousted from you.

For the first time in decades, you stood without nearly toppling to the ground on knock knees. Having such control and energy to spare was akin to the weightlessness of a bird in flight.

It was not so easy for your mind to return, and the scraps of memory and consciousness floating around in it were more confusing than enlightening.

A jolt then ran through your body, like a painless punch to the gut. It recharged you with the high of an eternal sugar rush.

The Collector was holding their index finger in front of where your heart sat, pointing at the organ as they looked at you. “You couldn't stay before.”

The glow in their eyes brightened, and a maddening hum invaded your ears. “I'll make sure that never happens again.”

Do anything you want with my work, but never make me boring!

#Fanfiction #Imagines #Yandere #The Owl House #TOH #Yandere x Reader #Yandere x You #Yandere x Y/N #The Collector #TOH Collector #TOH The Collector #The Collector TOH #X Reader #Yandere Imagines #Yandere Scenarios #Yandere Oneshot #Yandere The Owl House #Yandere TOH #Yandere Collector #The Owl House x Reader #TOH x Reader #Yandere Disney #Disney x Reader #Platonic Yandere #Reader Insert #Gender Neutral Reader #Yandere Writing

[readingwiththereids]

yanda! speaks: hi my loves! here’s the new chapter, it continues immediately after the last one. i’m trying really hard to keep up with my half-assed posting schedule but i might not be able to get you chapter 4 by tomorrow :( [i really think you’ll like it though!] don’t forget to like and reblog! lots of love and light 🤎

masterlist

night rain ; chapter 3

2022

The air stood still as both of them waited for the other to speak. Silence had never really been an issue for them before, or at least never awkward. Of course, there were those occasional stillnesses that swept over their apartment after a fight or the comfortable silence where they could simply just exist in one another’s presence. Surprisingly, those kinds of silences were actually when they felt closest.

This one however was not like that. This one sat its weight on their chests as they slowly realised the reason for it was the fact that they simply no longer knew what to say to one another. They no longer knew what the other was thinking at that moment. Sure, they had an idea but there was no way to accurately tie that knowledge from years ago to who they were now. The same but with different everything. Wounds, thoughts, hearts. While Camila’s heart had only become fuller following the birth of her daughter, Carmen’s only continued to be slashed at more and more.

“So, uh, how are you?” Carmy said, clearing his throat.

“I’m okay. How are- How is everything?” Cam replied awkwardly.

“Good, good.”

A pause.

“Listen Carm, I’m really sorry about Michael, he-”

“Was an addict. It’s fine, I’m fine.” he interrupted.

“Carmy.”

He took a deep breath and let out a sigh, staring down and picking at his nails. 

“It’s-I don’t know how to-” he tried to explain before giving up completely.

“That’s okay.” Camila smiled reassuringly, prompting him to finally look up at her as a smile began to tug at the corners of his mouth. “I really mi-”

Carmen had begun to speak before being interrupted by the sound of the front door opening.

“Hey, Carm. So, I couldn’t find my flat-head so I’m just gonna have to use your spatula again.” 

Fak’s voice instantly brought a smile to Camila’s face as she turned to look at him, having always had the best relationship with him out of all of the people in her and Carmen’s life together. The screwdriver in his hand dropped to the floor once he recognised the girl’s face in front of him before rushing to give her an excessively tight hug. 

“Cam! Oh my God, I missed you so much!” he practically squealed before pulling back and gasping. “Wait. Are you two back together?”

[Oh no no no, Fak-]

[Oh, I’m so happy for you!]

[Honey, no! Don’t-] 

[What do you mean “no”? Why’d you say it like that?]

[What do you mean “Why’d I say it like that”? I’m just trying to clear up his confusion, Carmen.] 

[Right.]

[“Right.”]

Carmy took a slight offence to Camila’s tone and mocking of his words but soon noticed the slight smirk sitting on her plump lips which was immediately reflected on his own, causing the two to erupt in soft chuckles as Neil’s eyes bounced excitedly between the pair because for a moment they felt like the old Cam&Carm that he’d dubbed his honorary parental figures.

“I should go, I have a meeting soon.” Camila smiled as she slowly shuffled towards the door.

“Oh right, we heard you’re up at La Fame now. Marketing right?” Carmen asked.

“Yeah, I mean you’d think it would be demanding but I have a scary amount of free time so I’m also working at that bakery in Logan Square at their pâtissier, part-time if you guys wanna pass by. Using that degree, you know.” she rambled before finally shouting a bye and racing out the door.

After she’d left, the two men simply stood for an embarrassingly long time, staring at the space that her figure once occupied.

“Man, she still smells like summer rain and pine needles.”

“Fak, what the hell is wrong with you?”

🏷️ list: @rexorangecouny @louderfortheback @janoskiansecondsofdirection @thatonedogwithablog

#carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto fic #carmen berzatto imagine #the bear #the bear fanfiction #the bear fic #the bear fx #carmen berzatto x oc

[chloeillustrates16]

Flustered Cheeks

(I haven't really read the IDW comics, so if this isn't accurate at all. Please, for the love of God, don't go into the comments and tell me that. I know that this is probably not accurate at all.)

Summary: After the mutagen blast and dancing around each other. Leo finally gets to talk to you alone.

Warnings: You're short, Y/n use here and there, no pronouns used.

You were saved by the turtles when you were fifteen. Ever sense then, you've been close to the turtles. Especially, Leonardo. He was the one that you saw first, his brown eyes, warm and caring. Something about him drew you closer.

After the Mutagen Blast, most of New York was mutated into animals. You too were also mutated, into a tiger. You stayed small, though which caused other mutants to mock you.

You and Leo were walking down the street, it was still strange for him to walk around in broad daylight. The two of you had boxes of supplies for the mutants that had lost their homes due to the blast.

"I can't thank you enough for this, Y/N," Leo smiled.

"Of course, Leo, you didn't need to ask."

Leo watched you, as you set the box on the table. Leo didn't know when he started to have feelings for you, but after a conversation with Jennika, that's when he realized.

After your mutation, Leo blamed himself. You were miserable; who wouldn't? Leo tried his best to help you through it, but you sort of pushed him away. Your reason being that you didn't want Leo to not like you more than you already thought he did.

Leo let out a sigh before glancing around, there was no one in sight. "Can we talk?"

"About?" you asked, your hands busy with the supplies. Leo rounded the table, lightly grabbing your hand.

"Please," you glance up and drop the can.

"Yeah," Leo's hand retreated from your own. He nervously rubbed the back of his neck.

"I know that you still haven't gotten used to being a mutant. I'm sorry, for this happening to you."

"Leo, it wasn't your fault."

"But it was!" he argued, "If we had stopped the Kraang none of this would have happened."

"Leonardo--" he froze. You only called him by his full name if you were pissed or serious. Sometimes both. You reached up, cupping his cheek. The one thing he missed was seeing your red face; whenever you laughed or got embarrassed, your face would flush a beautiful pink.

Now, your fur obstructed his view of your fluttered cheeks. Leo watched as you retracted your hand away; he was confused as you rounded the table. He waited as your hands bottled into fists; you pulled him into a tight hug.

Leo felt his heart skip a beat. You never hugged him before, even when you were human. He slowly wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer.

It wasn't that you didn't want to hug Leo in the past, it was just so hard for you to trust people. Leo knew how much this meant to you; You slightly pull away to look at his face. You felt your skin turn 100 degrees,

"This wasn't your fault."

"Y/n," he whispers. You realized how close the two of you were, Leo's warm brown eyes was so soft. Your hands moved up his arms to his neck. "Can I?" You nod, Leo leaned forward pressing his lips against yours.

Pulling away, Leo smiled. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner."

"It's okay, I should apologize too. I pushed myself away from you, I didn't mean to make you feel like the mutagen blast was your fault."

"Why did you push yourself away?"

"I thought that...you wouldn't like me if I was this," you stared at the orange and black stripes going up your arms.

"I'm going to be honest with you, I think you look gorgeous. The only thing I miss is seeing you blush."

You let out a laugh, "I beg to differ, that was the only thing like about the fur."

"You don't think it's pretty?"

"Sometimes."

Leo leaned forward; Leo had always been a little taller than you, but you haven't felt this small before.

"I think the markings are beautiful," he brushed the fur against your forearm. "I think you're beautiful."

Your jaw went agape, you composed yourself after a bit. "You aren't bad looking either," you muttered.

"What was that?" he asked, teasingly. He had in fact heard you, he just wanted to hear it again.

"I said, you were handsome," Leo smirked. Trying hard not to freak out.

Around the corner, Jennika and Sheena watched not too far away. Jennika put her finger to her lips; Sheena was trying her hardest not to scream with delight.

#idw tmnt #tmnt leonardo #tmnt leo x reader #idw leo #idw comics #idw spoilers #x reader #tmnt #fluff #confession #first kiss #jennika #sheena

[hobartshobie]

a non-comprehensive list of "official" spider-punk merch that i cannot condone anyone stealing for legal reasons

please do NOT buy anything listed in this post. i'm trying to clown corporations for monetizing anti-capitalism.

$11 for a comic about a guy trying to save his community from the rot of capitalism when all it takes is a vpn and the right Totally Legal website to read the whole thing for free is almost an outright challenge

look at the price of this jacket and tell me you don't want to jump off a cliff. the $4 increase from an xs to a 3x is mocking us more than the jacket already was. go to a thrift store, brush up on painting and make it yourself. it will be cheaper and look so much more punk than this thing

i'm putting all the t-shirts in the same section. i've decided to put as much effort into this as the people who "designed" these shirts did. yet again animators and comic artists do all the leg work while guys with business degrees copy and paste their art onto a low quality shirt for $20 because their trust fund pulled them up by the bootstraps

okay i know i said i put all the shirts in the one section but this one just impresses me. it's objectively more boring than the other shirts in this post yet it's like $15 more expensive. it doesn't have the spider-punk branding which is the easiest part of selling spider-punk merch. also the marvel logo is there just to remind you this is funding copaganda. insanely low effort and expensive. never spend $37 on a t-shirt

i understand not everyone is good at art so "just make it yourself" isn't the solution here. i'd like to take this time to encourage you to look into artists that can give you something more worth your money. it may not be less expensive but it will be better than spending $30 on a poster which you should never do

hobart brown would be horrified to see the price on this thing. i legally can't tell you to steal it so i just won't say it. there's no reason on earth to pay this amount of money for this. "it's hard to resist" and "no ethical consumption under capitalism" etc etc. i get it. if the price doesn't de-motivate you just imagine that hobie would be throwing up at the idea. you're welcome

at this point they just don't understand the target audience of spider-PUNK. no hobie fan is paying $30+ for this. high prices only punish the ones who want to legally obtain the thing. don't be the guy who picks up the tab for the moron who wants to milk the anti-capitalism cash cow. you're better than that

hobie merch marketed toward children makes me laugh. i could go on about how this thing existing waters down anti-capitalism and hobie's connection to the punk subculture but it's low-hanging fruit.

all i can say about this is it being a 6 pack will stop no one. you don't need to spend $60 on this when all of this together should not be more than $25 maybe $30. there were higher quality spider-man action figures in burger king kid's meals in 2012 during tasm promo. also i can't tell you to steal it. remember that.

in conclusion,

corporations are very dumb for trying to make money off of spider-punk, the real official merch is made by hobie fans, and most importantly do not buy anything in this post

#spider punk #hobie brown #atsv #spiderman atsv #spiderman across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse #spider verse #spider-punk #panel at the top of this post is from #web warriors (2016) #hobartshobie praxis

[lollytea]

Never thought about it that deeply when looking at Hunter grom outfit art but that s so sweet and heartwarming<33

Boi rarely takes off the mask and when he does it s around ppl who at least to some degree dislike him (beside belos/raine/steve who i doubt compliment his looks) always tired and in armour.

Looks at himself in pretty clothes and oh! He s pretty handsome he concludes.

Once he joins Emerald trio/entrails he s positively confused by how everyone compliments each other efortlessly

In human realm they go out picking outfits and is flooded with "oh this colour suits you" "you look so good in this" etc he Doesn t rlly know how to respond but tries to compliment his friends back (althought very awkwardly)

It makes me insane to think about cuz its too cute!!!

I always imagined that Hunter never exactly saw himself as ugly per say, and was never reluctant to remove his mask if necessary, but his opinion towards his appearance hasnt been the best either. He's just been stuck with this face for his whole life that he can't even critically assess it. Who knows if he's ugly or not? Certainly not Hunter. He's been looking at this face for too long to properly tell. He's indifferent at best and sick of it at worst. His face is dull, boring, underwhelming. So the privilege of hiding it around people he doesn't know really boosts his confidence. When he's wearing a mask, he can be anyone he wants.

I know the grom art isn't canon but it's so sweet to think about him really seeing how nice he can look all dressed up and being blown away by the final result. Like hey?? Hey?? He's actually not bad looking. Which he feels a little hesitant to even think cuz its not something he's used to feeling. But...he's kinda handsome. Maybe? He's really not a great judge of what good looks even are but being in a nice suit (something he's never worn before.) really rearranges his perception of his appearance as a whole, as though he's looking at someone new. Has he always looked like this? Would it be immature to hope that he has?

Hunter assumed he never cared about his looks much. So why are his feelings about his own reflection so BIG all of a sudden? He just....isn't used to this. Its nice. Handsome. He might go as far to describe what he's looking at as handsome. The idea fills him with an unfamiliar kind of giddiness. Handsome.

Luz would come bursting in, all done up for grom to see the number King has done on Hunter. And as soon as she's in the door, Hunter struggles not to shrink in on himself. He feels weird all of a sudden. Put under a spotlight. Someone is looking at this strange new version of himself and he feels silly for thinking too highly of it. Maybe he is just seeing things and he's just a dull boy in a passable outfit. His gaze tears away from the mirror cuz it would be mortifying to be caught admiring himself.

King hadn't said much about Hunter's appearance. Just an approving thumbs up and a "better!" An improvement from his own attempts, sure, but Hunter is probably blowing this WAY out of proportion.

But then Luz gasps dramatically. "Look at you!!!" She fawns and Hunter is just about ready to throw himself out the window.

"Don't you dare laugh." He snaps, jabbing a warning finger in her direction. His ears are steadily heating. "Titan help me if you laugh it's over for you."

"Why would I laugh?" Luz asks, sweeping across the room to get a better look at him. "Why, I was gonna say you look positively ✨️Dashing✨️" She announces with a broad beam, bracingly tugging at the lapels of his blazer.

Dashing.

That was an adjective Hunter never would have thought up on his own...but now that it's out in the open...

"Oh." Hunter blurts dumbly. She wasn't mocking him. She was complimenting him. "Thanks."

Being complimented on your appearance is a very strange and surreal thing so his brain needs a moment to process it.

"I like your...." He begins awkwardly, skimming his eyes up and down Luz's outfit. "Tutu...?"

Always with the loud and bright attire. But with Luz being so very....Luz, she has a knack for making these looks work. It suits her.

"You look good." Hunter comments. "Ridiculous." He emphasizes, to which Luz grins in response. "But good."

She thanks him with a theatrical little bow. "High praise coming from such a spiffy looking fellow."

Hunter snorts. "Shut up."

"I'm serious," Before he knows what's happening, Luz has swung an arm around Hunter's shoulder, reeling him in close. Her cheek smushes against his.

"And...from one Prince Charming to another..." Her teasing voice drops to a low murmur. "I think the girls are gonna love us."

Luz laughs at the embarrassed squeak that Hunter makes, turning to leave the room as he shoves her off him.

She calls out for him to follow her. They're gonna be leaving any minute now. Hunter nods and obediently troops after her.

At the last second, he pauses and takes one last look in the mirror.

Handsome.

Dashing.

It's so dumb but he watches himself smile stupidly as he makes one last adjustment to his collar. He's standing to his full height now, and as he leaves the house for the evening, he can be heard whistling, glowing with a new strange kind of pride that he's never experienced before.

I could absolutely see Viney and Skara jokingly calling Hunter "Hot Stuff" or something equally ridiculous. (They have similar nicknames for each other and Willow.) Especially after he scores them points during derby practise and they're gassing him up.

At first Hunter is a little confused. ("It's moderately cloudy?") There are definitely a few slang words that haven't yet reached his vocabulary, so this particular sentiment has to be explained to him.

Oh. Hot. Hot as in attractive. Okay. He gets it now. Interesting use of the word.

The explanation Viney and Skara gave him was so in-depth that he knows he's not going to be comfortable using that adjective in regards to anybody any time soon. Or well. He won't be saying it out loud at least.

Hot Stuff definitely sticks as Viney and Skara's default nickname for Hunter. He usually just scoffs and rolls his eyes in response to it. But Willow never fails to catch him look away and bite down a smile. She always teases him a little over it.

"You love being called that, I know you do~" She grins as Hunter blushes furiously.

Would be so cute if Gus and Hunter did most of their clothes shopping together while in the Human Realm and after they get home, Camila gets all the witch kids to show off their new outfits and parade around in the living room for her. Of course she goes "Ooooh don't you look cute?" At all of them. Which would make every single one of them blush. Camila would dote on the kids in their new clothes, I know this for certain.

Anyway Gus and Hunter helped each other pick out their respective clothes, which results in Gus NOT getting the shorts with the star shaped sequins ("It's October." Hunter insists. "You'll freeze.") And Hunter getting talked into the occasional loud and flashy garment cuz Gus told him that this one was his colour and THIS one would look so good on him and THIS ONE

Basically what I'm saying is Hunter being complimented on his appearance becomes a sure fire way to convince him to do anything.

Obviously when they do their little living room fashion show, Gus waits in the hallway with Hunter before they step in and prefaces it by announcing "Are y'all ready to see the best looking boys in Gravesfield??" Which is met with cheers and applause.

Gus takes to calling himself and Hunter "Best Looking Boys in Gravesfield" very often. Hunter still hasn't gotten used to it.

And ohhhhhh hubtlow...h tunltow....hfunmtlow....the brainworms this ask gave me because I started thinking about hutntntntlow....

I don't know if they're dating yet at this point. It's possible they're taking things slow. Maybe they both understand that the feeling is mutual but they're uncertain on what to do next.

But on one occasion, the atmosphere is just intimate enough that Willow is brave enough to reach out and touch Hunter's face.

She runs her fingertips across the cut of his jaw, a ticklish sensation that makes his breath hitch. Both hands cup his cheekbones, thumbs gliding just beneath his eye-bags.

The warmth of Willow's smile nearly knocks him unconsicous. "I like your face." She whispers, like she's sharing a secret. "It's pretty."

Pretty.

Hunter struggles not to melt into goo right then and there.

Pretty.

His face is pretty.

"You're smiling~" She singsongs, and Hunter knows she's correct, as he can feel the corners of his lips straining to reach his ears. He has to look away from her, because this is embarrassing. In a good way. Which is weird. Until he met Willow, he would never be able to fathom feeling embarrassed in a good way.

He has to pin his gaze at his criss-crossed legs for a moment, his hands squeezing his calves and he can feel it still. The big dumb elastic grin that is impossible to wipe away.

Willow proceeds to completely and utterly obliterate him by pressing the pad of her finger to the bridge of his nose and gently stroking down the hooked slope.

"I always thought your nose was very regal looking." Her lovely voice fills his ears.

She likes his nose.

He's helpless to the little squeak that escapes him.

Her knuckle have found the crook of his chin, which she uses to tip up his face a little.

His gaze meets hers and just like always, there's that electric jolt down his spine that she tends to give him.

It's only now that he realizes that she's blushing too. And he's not surprised. How in Titan's name could she say things like this without blushing?

If Hunter even tried anything like this on her, he'd go completely mute in his efforts to spit the words out.

"And you've got the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen in my life." Says Willow, like she has no intention of letting his heart catch a break.

Beautiful.

The neurons in Hunter's brain have devolved into fireworks.

Beautiful.

Okay. Okay. Fine. FINE. He is unable to take this anymore.

Hunter asks Willow to have mercy on him in the only way he can, in his flushed, speechless state. He tips forward and buries his face in her shoulder.

He hears her giggles, picking up the slight breathlessness.

"Okay, pretty boy~" She teases, her fingers taking to carding through his hair, which is not merciful in the slightest.

Pretty boy.

Pretty boy.

Pretty boy.

Hunter is going to explode.

#huntlow

[sunflowervolvimp3]

Wait I know we always talk about how protective vampy would be when bb got sick but what would nialls reaction be to her getting sick? I feel like Harry would mention it in the groupchat so Niall would rush over and H would be like “what are you doing go home” and hes like “ok but......shes not gonna die right?” And Harry’s like “....should we call Mitch” and bb would yell from His bed “I LITERALLY JUST HAVE A COLD CALM DOWN” then h would be like “…do you think we should take her to the ER just in case?”

the way they would make each other's anxiety worse PLS

...

It's not that Harry didn't know Niall was fond of Y/N.

He'd spent months running interference between the two, trying to squash Niall's every attempt of establishing contact with the mortal girl before Harry was ready. He'd stopped multiple attempts to crash dates, suffered through his phone being stolen four times, and lost three fingernails in a battle to prevent Niall from adding Y/N to their group chat affectionately titled "The Fang Gang." Once Harry did start allowing contact between his mortal lover and immortal friends, Harry could see the playful relationships bloom immediately. He was glad for it, even— it was much easier to have a relationship with Y/N once the two sides of his life began to merge. And he knew there was a certain degree of protectiveness that went along with that. He'd appreciated his friends understanding his need to make sure she was safe, that he sometimes had to leave a hangout early to make sure Y/N had a ride home when working a closing shift. He'd been thankful for it during certain nights in certain clubs. He knew there was affection there.

He just didn't expect that affection to bring Niall to his door thirty-two seconds after texting in the group chat that he and Y/N would have to miss dinner on account of her having a cold.

The Irishman looks at Harry with an expression he hasn't seen on the carefree vampire's face in years, peering anxiously over Harry's shoulder as if expecting to see the sick girl there. "Is Y/N okay?"

Harry blinks at him. "Is she— what?"

"Is Y/N okay?" Niall repeats the question, his eyes focusing back on Harry's face. "You said she was sick, and that's— humans are fragile. Getting sick means—"

"It means she has a cold, Niall," Harry's own brow furrows in confusion as he looks his friend up and down. "Just a cold. She just needs some rest."

Niall steps into the apartment, and the unease rolling off the vampire in waves convinces Harry to let it happen. He's never seen Niall go so long without smiling, or cracking a joke in greeting.

"You know people die of colds, Harry," Anxiety is threaded through Niall's voice as he speaks. "All it takes is one big cough, and suddenly your lungs are on the outside of your body! Human's don't do well with lungs on the outside of their body! That's literally the opposite of where they're supposed to be!"

"I really don't think that's how coughing works, mate," Harry touches Niall's shoulder with a measured movement. "Calm down. She's fine. Just a bit congested, has a small cough and a headache. Mostly she just needs sleep."

"What if she can't breathe? Congestion means—"

"It means she has a stuffy nose! That's it!"

Niall pulls out his phone. "Have you checked her temperature?"

"Five minutes ago. It's only 38.1 degrees—"

"Google says that's a fever! You know what happens when humans have fevers?"

Harry sighs. "They die?"

"They die, Harry! Fevers are bad! Fevers mean infection!"

"It's a cold!"

And yet.

Harry feels his stomach twist within his abdomen as he snatches Niall's phone from his hands and reads through the Google search results about fevers.

"Mitch doesn't seem concerned," Harry says the words almost as a comfort for himself.

Niall makes a noise of mocking in the back of his throat. "Mitch barely batted an eye when Sarah wound up in a body bag. Should we use him as the gauge for how concerned we should be?"

Harry can identify two faults to that argument right away, the first being that Mitch was distraught for days when Sarah met her untimely mortal end, and the second being that if anyone shouldn't be the gauge for concern, it's Niall, who's prone to overexcitement and overreacting. But then he hears Y/N coughing upstairs, and pictures her fragile body shivering beneath the blanket's he's layered on top of her, and all his counterarguments go out the window.

"I'll go get Y/N while you bring the car around, alright? You think I can bribe the ER staff with a Gucci watch?"

"I think you better try."

#theyre dumb your honour i love them #ysijwa blurb #ysijwa #harry blurb #hs blurb #harry styles x reader

[sweet-star-cookie]

heyooo tell me about the chamaeleon three!

Gladly! Luckily I've updated their designs already too ^_^

The Chamaeleon Three are a group of “teenage hoodlum” types to challenge Cassie’s quest to restore order between Earth and the Astral Plane. As the story progresses, the imbalance of the spirit world gets stronger as Cassie’s powers do, so the spirits that appear on Earth become more tangible, meaning that more people other than Cassie can see and interact with them over time. The trade-off is they then pose a larger threat to regular people, and that’s where these three come in!

It occurred to me that some of the more troublesome spirits would relish the opportunity to mess with the living world, even withstanding corruption by Void magic, especially after hearing that the Starglass is Cassie, not some kind of iron-clad warrior or another type of powerful figure like they expected. They quickly start wreaking havoc on the town and frame her for it whenever they can. Circumstances aren't exactly great on the Astral Plane as it is, so many also see it as a manner of escape from it, no matter how temporary.

Though they didn't initially choose to be corrupted by Void magic (it happened accidentally for them), they quickly made the most of their situation with anarchy and mischief once they did arrive on Earth. These three learn pretty quickly not to underestimate our little star hero, but still pose a threat that Cassie can’t face on her own, at least not initially.

So in order to catch these three and return them home, Cassie and her friends/family have to get creative to outsmart them or otherwise confront them in different ways, and I think this’ll be a good way to showcase the Earth squad’s differences in personality and resourcefulness, as well as spice up the spirit encounters in general. Here are descriptions for each of them :)

Lynx The tough guy of the three, with an equally brash personality to match. Despite the group's name, he thinks of himself as the leader and is imposing like one. He is never the one actually calling the shots though, as he lacks the brains for strategy. He greatly prefers brute forcing a problem or charging head-first into anything that's in his way.

Lynx is frequently a bully to Lepus for a predator-prey sort of dynamic, though he is easily shut down by Chamaeleon whenever he goes too far or loses focus. He’s usually the one to get caught the most when plans go awry, as he lacks Lepus’s agility and Chamaeleon's camouflage when escaping, but he’s the most capable fighter of the three simply by virtue of being a massive wild cat. You don’t want to mess with those teeth and claws!

He’s a cocky spitfire, known for constantly picking fights and riling things up, often to an extreme degree and at the detriment of himself and/or his group members. He's the type who would mock you for refusing to fight, and then call you a hypocrite for getting angry at him for mocking you. But, his overconfidence speaks to an underlying insecurity, which makes him prone to emotional vulnerability. He will aggressively defend himself should he ever be questioned, which usually leads him to picking fights that he can't win, and he switches between his confident and cowardly sides quite frequently.

While he’s already got a pretty stocky build and his stature isn't just for show, his cape and jacket are meant to make him look even bigger and more important, so you know he’s compensating for something, even if he’d never admit it. Being the (almost) leader of the group gives him a sense of power over others, whether it is warranted or not.

Lepus Probably best described as the cowardly lackey of the group, though not by his own choice. He hates being viewed with a bunny’s inherent cuteness, seeing it as a sign of weakness instead. This can sometimes give him an impulsive need to prove himself, and it typically ends poorly. He has, however, adapted to use it to his advantage.

He’s the type of character who will play to your sympathy and beg you to help him when he’s cornered, only to turn on you as soon as he’s in the clear. That said, he'd be the least likely of the three to become a villain under normal circumstances, if he felt he had a choice in the matter. But alas, history has taught him that he has to be this way to survive at all. He sees this group as all he has, believing that no one would befriend him otherwise, even if they don’t really act much like friends outside of their shared love for mischief and chaos. Though it angers and upsets him, he's used to staying quiet about things that truly bother him to keep the peace or avoid getting yelled at.

As you might expect from a rabbit, he’s got big jumps and swift kicks, and makes up for his lack of physical strength with agility. He’s based on a black-tailed jackrabbit specifically for the long, spindly legs and large ear-to-head ratio. His big ears make him the recon/lookout of the group most of the time, and is the quickest to flee when a plan goes pear-shaped, making it difficult to catch all three of them at once.

If given the choice, Lepus would much rather be an explorer or spelunker, using his quick feet and keen hearing for something more productive. His love of chaos is actually more of a love for adventure and spontaneity, but he found the wrong outlet for it.

Chamaeleon The true leader of the group, hence the name. She goes by Mae for short, but only to those she allows to call her that. Despite her aloof and quiet nature overall, Chamaeleon is the sharpest of the three, and can shut down Lynx’s boisterous attitude or Lepus's shaking cowardice with only a stern look or a blunt word. She’s the brains of the operation, keeps a cool head, and is difficult to outsmart.

She’s even harder to catch with her camouflage, though you’ll know where she’s been with her tags. Being a graffiti artist, she has her spray gun and cans to quickly paint anything she desires, or spray someone else if she's really desperate. Similar to the paint itself, I'd imagine her markings could glow in the dark when she’s not hiding, though she can negate this glow to hide completely when necessary.

Though she’d never show it, Chamaeleon is actually the one who relies on the group dynamic the most. She doesn’t like being apart from them, even if she bullies them when they’re together, and usually favours plans that don’t involve splitting up. In better circumstances she’d probably be the “older sister” type to the other two, looking out for them and making sure they don’t get hurt, but her short fuse and lack of patience doesn't currently lend itself to that kind of dynamic. She is actively mean to them most of the time, though that is often eclipsed by Lynx's louder and more outward type of aggression.

------ So you may be wondering, why did I choose these three to form a group when their constellations normally have nothing to do with each other? Well, that's sort of the point! As you may have noticed, these three don't really get along with each other very well and are dysfunctional as a group, and this is what ultimately leads to their downfall. Their dynamic is meant to be an opposite to the one Cassie has with Demitri, Ellie, and Leena, who are able to work together well despite their individual differences.

After the Chamaeleon Three are returned to the Astral Plane, I plan to explore what happens to them afterwards in a side story that shows the core problems with their group and what they each do about it, but the first part of their arc will be shown in the main story at least.

#thanks for the ask! #asks #tabsters #my art #my OCs #Starglass Zodiac #SGZ