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ganymedesclock · 2 years

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Okay hold absolutely everything- I wanna hear about your au Shadow and Vanilla crackship, I'm very intrigued.

[deep breath]

Okay so. Several factors afoot here.

Vanilla is basically a local community leader. She runs a bakery/family restaurant and both employs and manages charity work for a lot of people. In the 'less fashionable' oldtown district of Starlight City, just about everybody knows Vanilla. She is Connected.

This also means she is busy, which, as a single mother with a rambunctious adopted child, does mean she makes SOME arrangements for Cream, who cannot play soccer in abandoned lots all the time, and there's only so many times you can get a kid a tetanus booster before the consensus comes in that Someone should keep an eye on the kid.

Incidentally, Vanilla living close to century-old prefab housing means some of her neighbors are Interesting. One of them is Shadow, who was able to buy out not just the particular unit for sale but enough of the prefab structure that he basically owns his own 'townhouse' and has turned the basement into his personal machine shop.

Nobody really know what Shadow's deal is. Most of the people Vanilla talks to do not know when exactly he blew into town. He is, most concede, Older Than He Looks because he's got the physique of a spry 20something but offhandedly references being there for events that are at least thirty to forty years ago. It's also a general consensus that he's almost definitely here illegally and tends to disappear any time someone particularly official is too close for his comfort. He Does Not Get Out Much, sleeps irregularly, and makes psychiatrists home in like bloodhounds on the scent within ten paces of most of his habits.

Needless to say, not what most people would consider ideal babysitter material. But Cream managed to kick a ball through one of his windows on a dare, and the bewildered enigma thus summoned awake at 3pm cleaned up the broken glass and patched the ball, nominally so she'd leave him alone, and told her to play somewhere else without particular anger.

Vanilla does not really believe Shadow thinks of her as a friend, but she believes very strongly in being Neighborly, and, every now and then paying him to watch Cream is an easy arrangement and also a pretense to make sure he doesn't spend too much time alone in the dark with his thoughts as seems to be his prerogative.

Cream thinks Mr. Shadow is terribly sad, and not always polite, but sometimes people struggle to be polite when they're feeling bad, and he seems to be feeling bad almost all the time.

Shadow thinks the kid is alright, and her mom is somewhere between a little too nosy for his comfort and one of the rare listening ears he almost opens up to before he reminds himself not to do anything that means he'll have to leave town even faster than normal.

He's already been here too long.

#Sonic Worlds AU #basically AU of Shadow as an unaging immortal who's nonetheless been trying to pass as a 'normal guy'#Vanilla does not scare easily and she has been basically trying to stop this guy from self-destructing in private #with the also side header of Vanilla's had an interesting life herself and takes a studious interest in mr. Mysterious Vibes Dangerous Past #also for a guy who doesn't take care of himself he's rather muscular

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nagitoedit · 1 year

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thinking abt those super iconic like fandom things makes me so scared like imagine like just making something and then having it become like The Number One Thing For That Fandom. or like something infamous or iconic. scary.

#many things that fall under thing bc there seems to be one of these for every fandom lawl #imagine being the person who made ashfur mr brightside #or the person who wrote uhv. or the person who wrote my immortal #or the person who made rhinestone eyes edit #imagine being the person who wrote. that. and seeing that jared himself read it and then had a milk toast with weekes on twitter #literally sounds so so scrary

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x-nephophile-x · 2 years

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Yall came to my blog for something and that something for many of you surely wasnt whatever the fuck hyperfixations a villain from a final fantasy game and a youtube funny man’s actually really complex and emotional interactive film in space is.

#my brain goes where the serotonin is and i am merely a spectator in this affair #and it has decided that for the rest of my life my serotonin will forever be drawn from a villain from a ff game and a youtuber #im not even gonna lie tho #Ive been in this hell with mister immortal man for over 4 years now #and with mr iplier??? I investigated it #ive been here with him since he had 45.000 subscribers #and i know people have been fans since day 1 and im not saying that x amount of time means anything anything-wise #but like??? the fact that I was what?? 13 when i found him?#and i remember being in a dark place then #my home life was starting to fall apart and i remember being so damn depressed and struggling to stay positive and hopeful about my life #and my future and i was sure i wouldnt make it past 18 #and idk i found mark and i spent weeks binging everything on his channel #and spent weeks more watching every new video #and i remember just?? seeing this heart of gold in him and seeing how much he cared and how much he loved and how hard he worked #and how much he poured every ounce of himself into everything about his life #and at the end of the day he made me smile and laugh and was one of the few things that did at the time #and to see him now doing what hes doing is just... im thankful for him and im so proud of him; and me in a sense; for getting this far #when i wasnt sure where either of us would end up a decade ago #dont perceive this or these tags idk im emotional and idk if its cringe to be emotional over a youtuber like this but fuck it #ive been here a decade im allowed to boohoo little baby gonna cry once in a while over this man #misc tag: cas rambles in the tags #misc tag: Cas Rambles

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lovifie · 3 months

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Hi! 🩷

Welcome to my blog! You can call me Lovi/Lovifie or any nickname 🩷🩷

Request are closed at the moment, but my inbox is always open for asks and chats 🩷

Also on AO3 (working on uploading)

Add you username if you would like to be added to the tag list - Please check this before writing your name

This is a compilation of all my works for the COD characters, specifically Task Force 141. 🩷

My dear anons 🫠, 🍰, 🫀 and 🦝

Hope you enjoy it!

❤️‍🔥Smut❤️‍🔥 🌸Fluff🌸 🤔Suggestive🤔💡Interactive💡

✨One-Shot✨ 📖Series📖 🎭Crack🎭 💧Angst💧

No One Needs to Know... Right? ❤️‍🔥✨

Nasty Young Price ✨❤️‍🔥

Price meeting your parents for the firt time ✨🎭

Him with a wheelchair user partner ✨🌸

Mr. & Mrs. Price ✨🌸❤️‍🔥

Her Royal Highness 📖💧🌸❤️‍🔥

Hormones Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 🤔❤️‍🔥📖

Spidey 📖💡

Switch Bodies 📖🌸 First Morning 🌸 Meeting Soap 🌸💧

Simon Riley is a Good Man ❤️‍🔥✨+ Soap is a good man in the reblogs

Boyfriend!Simon learning about himself 🎭🤔✨

Immortal!Ghost x Reader that always comes back 💧✨🤔

Simon Riley always loved your hair ✨🤔🌸

"Simon" 💧✨

Simon with a big titties and tiny titties girlfriend ✨🤔

Insecure about their hands reader ✨🌸

Simon learning about your childhood - Extra bit - Extra x2 ✨🌸

New dad Simon ✨🌸

A Village Apart ✨❤️‍🔥

Simon “I Will Never Be A Father” Riley ✨🌸❤️‍🔥

Simon and his lipstick ✨🌸❤️‍🔥 alterative ending ✨🌸

Gaz finding his soulmate ✨🎭🌸

Manipulative Gaz ❤️‍🔥✨💧

Break Up 💧✨/📖

Back Home ✨❤️‍🔥🌸

Valeria's different approach to interrogation ❤️‍🔥✨

Little Red Riding Hood ❤️‍🔥✨

Soap's Diary (mumbling)

Him with a wheelchair user partner ✨🌸

Johnny's work out routine ✨❤️‍🔥

Soap, who steals something more than your heart (darkishh)✨

Price's secret weapon ✨🤔

¿Hambre, mi niña? ✨❤️‍🔥

Poly 141 x Reader

Shitposting and Jokes I have Proudly Posted 🎭

Lift Me Off My Feet (Poly 141 x Reader) 📖❤️‍🔥🌸💧

COD Boys Try Sexy Roleplay ✨❤️‍🔥🎭

What kind of nasty each man is? ✨💖

Soap x Ghost x Reader

Well, I Wasn't On That Tunnel (Ghoap x Reader) 📖❤️‍🔥💧

Ghost finding out about you and Soap's little deal ✨❤️‍🔥

Other

1K Event Choices

#call of duty #call of duty smut #masterlist #ghost x reader #captain price #john soap mactavish #kyle garrick #call of duty imagine #cod imagine #poly 141 x reader #poly tf141 #cod #modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare

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wlntrsldler · 1 month

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almost (sweet music) | luke castellan

synopsis: exbf! luke castellan goes on a date with another girl after your death. went back to my roots and wrote an aphrodite reader!

song: almost (sweet music) by hozier

it's been a year.

it's been a year since percy uttered the words, "we need a shroud, for the daughter of aphrodite." it's been a year since he survived the battle of manhattan and you didn't. it's been a year since hermes had to pull him off your dead body as he thrashed and mourned your death.

he's out of camp half blood now, which he thinks you'd be surprised to learn. you always joked that he'd end up taking over mr. d's position if he wasn't an immortal god. luke had a special relationship with chb, just like you did. back when he was sixteen, the first time he kissed you, he let himself think about growing old with you there.

maybe taking over the summer activities and planning. living in a small cabin just on the outskirts of camp. he thought about making it into a welcome center for new arrivals, somewhere where they could have a hot meal and have a room of their own before they inevitably ended up in the hermes cabin with his rowdy siblings.

those were the easy days. back when his biggest fear was losing his best friend if he told you how he truly felt about you. it seems silly and trivial now that he looks back at it. he wishes he told you how he felt sooner, just to get those extra years, extra days, extra seconds with you knowing that you were his and he was yours.

but now he's in his twenties and you were six feet under. it wasn't fair and he felt disgusted with himself as he prepared for his first date with a girl chris set him up with from his sociology class at nyu. he knew that you would've wanted him to move on, after all, you always said that your favorite version of him was when he was in love. something about how his eyes sparkle differently and how his voice turns softer, kinder, when he spoke, but luke didn't know how to tell you that he was only like that when it came to you.

the date was fine. the girl was pretty. she had the same hair color as you and same giggly laugh, and luke should be grateful that chris knew his type, but all luke could do was compare her to you. it wasn't fair to the girl. she was lovely and she deserved someone who didn't think about their ex-girlfriend every time they looked at her.

when she showed up to the mom and pops restaurant luke picked out for the date, she was listening to your favorite artist. luke almost felt like he was back in the aphrodite cabin, listening to the song on your record player, swaying you back and forth in a lousy attempt at slow dancing. if he tried hard enough, he swore he could feel the sound of your heartbeat pressed against his chest, reminding him that you were still there, still alive.

it made him so dizzy that his date had to ask him if he was okay. he turned pale, all the color draining from his face. luke meekly nodded and told her a half-truth. i haven't gone on a first date in a while.

the girl smiled at him kindly, just like how you did when you first met him, and told him she understood. she sat across from him and sipped on her water, trying her best to keep the conversation going, but luke could tell that she knew his mind was elsewhere.

his mind was at camp half blood, in the sheds by the strawberry fields. his lips were on yours, a smile grazing his face that you had to pull away to tease him. he was always so smiley with you, no facade of the brooding, tough as nails, hermes head counselor that everyone else got from him. with you, he was luke, young, naive, and helplessly in love. when he closed his eyes, he could still feel the ghost of your lips on his, cherry lip gloss teasing his tastebuds.

his date complimented his necklace and for the first time that night, luke gave her a genuine smile and a look of interest. it was the necklace you bought for him for his seventeenth birthday. you'd saved up all your money from your part-time job at the froyo shop in ohio during the year. it was a silver dog tag with an engraving of mercury and venus circling each other. he hasn't taken it off since you put the necklace on him years ago.

when she asked the story behind it, luke spoke your name for the first time in a year to a stranger. when he caught himself talking about you in the present tense, a bitter taste lingered in his mouth and he had to gulp down the rest of his water to wash it away. he flexed his hand, a nervous habit that he had. and when the girl leaned over to place her own hand over his to steady him, luke pulled away from her like she just burned him.

he apologized profusely and it became clear to the girl that luke was not ready to go on a date with anyone. luke saw a flicker of disappointment in her eyes and he wondered if he'd looked like that the entire time, disappointed that it was her in front of him and not you. but then she tapped the back of his hand in a friendly way and leaned back in her chair and said, tell me about her.

you were his favorite topic of conversation. he recalled one too many conversations with chris and the stolls where they'd complain about how every conversation somehow ended up about you. so luke obliged and told her the story of how the two of you came to be. he kept the details vague, deciding that exposing olympus and the existence of the gods would be too much for a first date. maybe sixth, or seventh, but he doubts he'll get that far with her.

when the date was over, the girl gave luke a hug and whispered, i hope you guys get back together. it seems like you really love her.

luke wanted to tell her that if he had the power to be with you again, he would do it in a heartbeat, but that was beyond his control. luke thanked her and said, i hope so, too.

#frances writes #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan fanfic #luke pjo #luke castellan x you #percy jackson

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selarina · 5 months

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JJK characters and their beauty:

Getou Suguru (classical)

-> there’s a sort of classical beauty to geto suguru. he’s just so pretty. his face looks like it was carved by the angels themselves. he’s elegant in the way he looks, moves, and dresses. he’s a reader and he enjoys tea-making. he’s secretly a fan of ballroom dancing, and he’s often seen waltzing with people who are on the other end of gojo’s despondent rejections. he’s seen picking up and patching the broken hearts left, one turn at a time. he’s an oil painting come to life but there is something seething, something deceptively inhuman about him. he looks and acts like a mr. darcy figure. he’s polite and he’s handsome but there is something simmering underneath. it takes you a while, but you realize as you’re running through the woods that he’s always been heathcliff on a leash.

Gojo Satoru (otherworldly)

-> if getou’s face was carved by the angels, gojo satoru’s face was carved by God himself. he’s beautiful in the most unconventional sense. he’s strangely alluring, and he sticks out in any setting you put him in. his presence, it’s meant to disrupt the ordinary. he’s otherworldly, so it almost seems fated. he’s meant to have people gawking at him. but they never approach him — never that. he has contemporary tastes, despite it all. he loves listening to the latest albums, watching the latest movies, having the latest abstract artworks hanging above his headboard. he’s so human in his interests but he never will be one of them and there is a certain sadness in that. you can see it laid bare in his deceptively bright, blue eyes. he loves the rain despite being untouched by it.

Nanami Kento (timeless)

-> nanami kento’s face was carved and weathered by time itself. it bears the unmistakable marks of an austere craftsmanship. he’s been through the rain and the storms and yet he stands tall and firm as a statue. poised and handsome. there is a story in every contour, every crinkle that is etched onto his face but he’ll never tell you, he’ll never tell anyone. he’ll never live to tell anyone. his beauty is his mystery. and his mystery dies with him. he was the most human of them all. he liked cream bread and amy whinehouse and he wanted a house by the seaside as most men living in the city do but there is something so supernaturally haunting in his beauty. when you touch his face, it cuts you deep, leaving a trail of blood swarming onto the floor beneath you.

Shoko Ieiri (earthly)

-> shoko ieiri’s beauty is strangely human. she has dark circles and a slightly hunched back. she drinks her coffee black and her hands are calloused. because a god does get her hands dirty sometimes. but it’s the only part of her that is calloused, the rest of her body remains porcelain clean, pristine like the skin of an untouchable god. she’s to be protected or bodies will drop down like flies. a simple scratch is all it takes to make this god bleed. gojo may teleport and getou may ride a dragon but she has immortality. she can heal the wounds in her hand but she doesn’t. she lets them sting and scar. it’s the only part that makes her feel human. she smokes, a defiance against this immortality but even a god can’t kill a god when the cost is killing the universe.

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sugairsstuff · 2 months

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Hii,

I have a request I love protective Rhys so can you do a Rhys x reader where someone insults her and Rhys gets all overprotective and angry, like how dare they insult my mate🤭

I hope you have a great day and thank u for writing it

Bye❤️

i’m sorry for taking so long to write this! i hope you enjoy my spin on the prompt <3

i’m flattered

rhysand x fem/reader

warnings: none

description: a noble has quite a lot to say regarding your appointment to high lady. as much as you’d like to do it yourself, your loving mate swoops in to put them in their place.

Coming to the Court of Nightmares to play pretend in these political dances veiled in the disguise of a party was never something you were excited about through all your immortal years of knowing Rhysand. So, naturally, you were feeling an extra weight of anxiety now that you would be attending as the High Lady of the Night Court—therefore a major piece in what was originally just Rhysand and the Court of Nightmare’s game of chess. You understood your mate morphed himself into an entirely different person as he believed that the one way to keep this imbalanced section of the Night Court under order was to keep them intimidated with the illusion of a cruel leader—for who would challenge someone who held no moral bounds?

While your mate had years—if not centuries—of practice in carefully carving this mask to wear at a ball that wasn’t even a masquerade, you had only been High Lady for two years. Before that, you kept your head low or simply did not attend the events held in this part of the court. It goes without saying that you were extremely prone to criticism, which was especially worrying in a place that was kept under control through the guise that they were not allowed to question their authority.

Alas, your lover insisted that it would be better for you to attend with him. Rhysand promised that you were safe there in his company (and that the food and drinks would be to your liking), while urging that it was better to show your face and prove that these Fae did not make you afraid than stay behind and let them mumble amongst themselves. Because, of course, this court was no longer run by only the High Lord, so now you needed to demand respect as well.

Standing in the mirror, you decide that at least it was somehow easing to be wearing such an elegant gown to the ball. With long sleeves and a deep plunge, your black dress hugs your curves and falls over your hips to the floor. You thought it was a nice touch that the ends of the long skirt are flecked in white that gave the illusion you had just waded through a pool of stars. Your hair is done up nicely as well to flaunt your neck and the silver jewels decorating it, the light piece of jewelry falling deep on your chest.

“I’m wondering if bringing you may be a mistake after all,” a familiar voice hums lovingly behind you. You whirl around from the mirror, brows furrowed as you watch your mate expectantly for an explanation.

Rhysand chuckles, raising his hands in a surrendering gesture as he pushes himself off of the doorframe he was leaning against, “You are one beautiful distraction, darling. I’m not sure if I’ll be able to stay focused on politics when I have the brightest star in Prythian right at my side. That’s all.”

You roll your eyes regardless of the fact you’re now sure you didn’t need to put blush on when doing your make up earlier. “Oh, yeah, cover it up, Mr. High Lord,” you huff in faux annoyance, though perhaps some real insecurity.

Rhysand was quick to notice that, and even quicker to invade your personal space by wrapping an arm around your waist and guiding you to his chest. “Don’t forget Mr. High Lord needs his Mrs. High Lady there,” he coos, grinning when his cheesy words evoke a sweet laugh from your lips.

You decide to change the topic rather than continue to brood over the inevitable reality of the ball you are about to be an unwanted spotlight in. “Is everyone else ready?” you ask, thinking of your friends who also are expected to be attending due to political reasons. Azriel, Cassian, and even Mor were always expected to at least show their faces.

Rhysand nods idly, clearly too distracted by you to shift his mind to be thinking about them. “They’re waiting, but I’m sure they won’t mind it if we’re a little late,” he says, grinning like a feline as he leans down over you to try and capture your lips with his. You evade Rhysand’s flirtatious attempts to seduce you by leaning back and resting your palm against his chest.

“Nuh-uh. No way am I being late to this thing,” though you pause and return his playful grin, “though if it goes well, maybe we can celebrate later. The zipper on this dress is pretty difficult to undo,” you hum.

“I’d be glad to lend a hand with that.” he winks, smiling like a fool as his boyish attitude earns yet another laugh from you.

Rhysand was a tempting sight to be seen, though. It appears as though he wanted to make you two look like dynastic royalty with the way you both are dressed, perhaps to look utterly untouchable to the rebellious crowd you are about to endure. His suit was pitch black, tailored perfectly to hug his V-shaped waist and embroidered with deep purple lacing at its hems. His sleek black hair is pushed back with what you assume is gel, though either by Rhysand’s doing or its own failure some of raven strands had fallen down over his forehead. You couldn’t help but make the allusion of you being the stars and him being the milky way.

“Alright, let’s go before you get too carried away,” you insist. And with that, Rhysand pulls you closer to him and winnows you to where your friends wait—some more impatiently, as Azriel stands with his arms crossed and an accusing expression at the two of you for being late.

By the time you arrive in the Court of Nightmares, you realize the party wasn’t starting without Rhysand and you. The throne room was done up extravagantly to meet the expectations of the High Fae citizens of Hewn City, the pure silver decorations a stark contrast to the deep, shiny ebony that the room was etched from.

Beautiful faces all around the room turn to watch you and your mate enter, their drinks idle in their hands and their conversations paused so that they can get a good look at the new High Lady. You swallow, keeping your chin up and moving on to the main floor alongside your mate. The back of Rhysand’s hand brushes yours, and when you turn to look up at him you see that he’s offering you his arm. You link your elbow with his, allowing him to lead you the rest of the way into the parted crowds.

When the pair of you begin to near the dais, you see only one throne sits at the centre of it. Rhysand seems to have this planned, though, as he gently guides you away and lets go of your elbow once you reach a small cluster of nobles. Of course, it all came down to symbolism and perception, because rulers who are supposed to be equals should have their own thrones to sit, and holding on to you when not walking would be seen as more controlling than chivalrous.

“High Lord, it’s been quite some time since you’ve visited,” one of the Fae spoke. Her features were sharp and dark, brought out by her even darker makeup. To your surprise, she turns to look at you, “And you’re not alone. You must be our new High Lady, I’ve never seen you at any of the parties here.” the nameless female hums, her gaze dragging down along you. You can see in her brown eyes she finds nothing to criticize as she releases a small ‘hmph’ of both disappointment and approval.

“Yes, I am. I’m glad to finally have the opportunity to visit Hewn City properly.” you respond, offering a small, neutral smile. You decided that maybe if you treat these people politely, and not allow any snide remarks to outwardly anger you, they would see you as immune to their judgment and would back down.

The female raises her brow. Rhysand later would tell you her name is Emelia, daughter of a family known for trades. But when you glance to your side, you realize your mate has been pulled aside with Mor in what looks like an unpleasant conversation with Keir, the steward of Hewn City.

Emelia decides to strike while you’re alone, having no respect for someone who, technically, wasn’t her direct authority, “Well, that makes it sounds like you weren’t allowed to visit the Court. Why, does your High Lord keep you at arm’s length?” she drawls, sipping her golden-flaked wine in a weak attempt to hide her triumphant smirk.

Your back straightens, stunned for only a moment at her implication. “Well, it’s just a little difficult finding free time to revel so often when there are duties I must see to for the Night Court as a whole. I’m not sure if you will understand, however, considering how many of these occasions you’ve mentioned you spend your time going to.” you quip, quickly realizing that being nice and courteous to people wouldn’t work, and that Rhysand was unfortunately right to maintain equilibrium in Hewn City through intimidation.

You leave Emelia fuming in your wake, not bidding her a farewell as you head to Rhysand who now converses with Keir alone. Your mate looks relieved when he sees you coming, moving like a wisp in your black dress across the ebony throne room. The male to his left, however, looks less than pleased to see you coming in contrast.

“Keir,” you greet as Rhysand bends to kiss your cheek in loving greeting.

Keir only says your name in return before looking to Rhysand. “Well, that’s all from me, enjoy your fun, Rhysand.” he says, sending a scrutinizing look your way before departing.

Your mate lets him go without the satisfaction of a response. Rhysand sighs, turning to face you and reaching a hand to adjust the positioning of your necklace. His hand brushes against your collarbone as you meet his eyes. “Was she giving you trouble?” he says, recalling that he had to leave you with Emelia, “I felt some tension on your end of the bond,” he murmurs, careful of the level of his voice due to the room being full of prying, pointy ears.

“Nothing I couldn’t handle,” you assure him, taking your turn to do some adjusting by straightening the sculpted fabric of his overcoat. You thought you had managed yourself well with Emelia, who you assume was somewhere between a jealous young female to another rebellious citizen spewing the opinions fed to her by others, and your confidence began to return until you and Rhysand were silent enough for a conversation to reach your ears.

“Look at her. Dressed like a queen and yet she does nothing for the Night Court,” a male voice scoffed. You hear female and male voices laughing almost forcefully in adoration. The male continues, his voice only slightly muffled from the crowd and the distant music, “All I’m saying is, I don’t even work in politics and I could probably do a better job than her.”

After some more irritating cackling, a female voice pipes in, “The dress is tacky, anyway.”

With your heart in your stomach, you don’t even have the chance to look around and locate the owners of these voices as you notice your mate has already walked the few feet over to the small group near the edge of the throne room.

You worry that following after your mate and standing there as he, you assume, chides the yapping male, you make your way to the nearby refreshment table. Azriel thankfully stands there, who seems to be avidly trying to blend into the wall in order to avoid conversing with the unpleasant guests.

“Pretend we’re having a conversation. I’m eavesdropping.” you tell him once you arrive, and Azriel responds with a joking ‘yes, ma’am’ as you become another one of the pointy-eared eavesdroppers.

“Cielo,” you hear Rhysand drawl, a wicked grin on his face as he inserts himself into their conversation. Satisfaction begins to lift your heart back into place as the group’s laughter comes to an abrupt halt.

“Are you implying you think you’d be a better High Lady for me?” Rhysand hums, brow raising at Cielo, who now looks stiff with embarrassment. “Really, I had no idea you harboured such feelings for me, I’m truly flattered.” Rhysand continues just enough so that Cielo’s friends have turned their amusement to their rather humiliated looking pal.

Rhysand takes a step forward, a few inches taller than the glaring male. “I’d hate to break your heart, but if you ever speak about your High Lady and my mate in such a disgusting manner again, I will make an example out of you as to exactly what the punishment is for disrespecting your authority.” and just as his friends began to snicker, Rhysand’s sharp violet gaze turns to them. “And that goes for all of you,” he snaps. Rhysand stalks away, leaving the small crowd of Fae in silence as he finds you next to Azriel.

“You know,” you say cheekily, “I could’ve handled that, too.”

Rhysand sighs as he takes a glass of wine from the table, likely wanting some alcohol to stroke away the flames of his temper. “I know, darling. Sorry for beating you to it, I just couldn’t stand by and listen to them spit bullshit like that.” he scoffs. You can’t be bothered to be mad—too busy gleaming in triumph and pride over your love’s protectiveness.

“Well, I think they learned their lesson,” you giggle, glancing to the group who now watch you and Rhysand in weariness rather than entitlement.

“Good. If they can’t appreciate what you do for them, they could at least keep their mouths shut.” he hisses. You rest your hand on Rhysand’s elbow to bring his attention back to you.

“Why don’t we dance? That way, no one can judge us for not speaking to anyone.” you suggest.

Rhysand takes your hand and kisses the back of it, “I like the sound of that.” he agrees.

After a night full of dancing and more inevitable political conversations, you and Rhysand winnow back to the House of Wind as you call it a night. You find yourself standing in front of your long mirror, trying to reach back to undo the finicky zipper of your dress. You see Rhysand take a step closer to you in the mirror and feel as his hands snake into place on each side of your waist.

“So, how about that celebrating?” he grins to your reflection.

#acotar #rhysand #rhysand x reader #a court of thorns and roses #high lord rhysand #high lord of the night court #the night court #night court #rhysand x y/n #rhysand x you #cassian x reader #azriel x reader #azriel #cassian

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pilot-boi · 9 days

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Pilot, I know you primarily bully Jaune. But would you mind having a go at Papa Arc talking to the Vacuo mural?

Orion Arc is not a hero, even though his son always thought he was. He’s just a man who loves his family and tries his best to do right by them.

So it’s more than a little strange standing there, in front of a mural of his own son’s face. His boy immortalized and honored in ways Orion could never dream of.

His son looks like a stranger.

“Mr. Branwen thought it might help to talk to ya.” Orion’s hand brushes over the palm prints of countless children, all paying their respect to his boy. “Don’t see much point, ain’t gonna bring you back.”

His son watches him, all quiet confidence and bravery. A true warrior, a hero. Where is his brash anxious son who begged to join the Huntsman Academies? How much of his son did he lose when Jaune finally left home? Somewhere along the way his boy grew into a man and he wasn’t there to help him.

“Your uh…” He clears his throat. “Your mother misses you.” And it sounds pathetic even as he says it. Even in front of a facsimile of his son he can’t say what he needs to.

“She was beside herself when you didn’t come back from Haven.” So was he, even more so than his wife. Orion paced the house for days, worry driving him to throw himself into work, into anything that would take his mind off the attack and the fate of his boy. “We were so relieved to hear from Saph about you and your friends.”

His friends. A group of seven that from all accounts Jaune grew closer to than even his sisters. Orion glances up at the others in the mural. Four of which fell alongside his boy, and the other three were left grieving.

Ren, Nora, and Oscar, he remembers them being called. He never thought he’d see his grief echoed in faces so young.

“As soon as we saw the broadcast, your mother was packin’ our bags.” Orion chuckles. “You shoulda seen her, she was fixin’ to march up to the General herself and teach him a lesson. If I ever wondered where you got your fire, I got my answer.”

His face falls, crumpling like paper. “And I triedta douse that fire.” How many times did he tell Jaune it was okay if he failed? How many times did he refuse to train him? How many times did he let his fear guide him to crush his son’s dreams?

“When you walked into the livin’ room with your transcripts in hand sayin’ you were gonna be a Huntsman whether I wanted it or not, why…” His eyes are stinging. If there’s anything his son inherited from him, it’s his tendency for emotions to live near the surface. “Why that was the proudest day of my life.”

He’d never been more proud. Never. His boy standing there with those papers clutched in his fist, and a defiant look on his face. “I won’t let you down.” Jaune had said.

You could never let me down. It’s what he should’ve said. Why didn’t he just say it?

Orion scrubs the heel of his hand into his eyes. It does nothing to stop the flow of tears. “Did I ever once tell ya how proud I am of you?” His voice is cracking and hitching, but if he stops talking now Orion knows he’ll never start again.

“You’re so brave and you don’t quit when things get tough. I saw how hurt you were after the Fall of Beacon, but you just got right back on that horse.” His baby boy, the most caring and most stubborn of all his children. Strapping the family sword back onto his hip because “Somebody has to, dad.”

Letters where it’s clear his boy isn’t saying half the trouble, but he’s saying enough that they know what trouble is. Hearing about the attack on Haven, a week and a half of terror. Saphron sending word that Jaune made it to Argus.

And then nothing. Nothing until the broadcast from Miss Rose.

Packing in a whirlwind, sending the girls to stay with Saphron. Renting the first available airship to Vacuo and contending with his wife’s motion sickness. By the time they got there, they were met halfway by a near armada.

But no Jaune.

Orion’s hand rests on Jaune’s painted cheek. A child’s hand against the larger-than-life hero his boy grew into when he wasn’t there.

Did he ever tell his son how much he loves him?

“Come back to us,” Orion begs, no longer trying to stem the flow of tears. Why bother? His son isn’t here to see them.

#rwby #jaune arc #papa arc #mine #asks #my writing #freshmiraclecheesecake

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canyourfavesurvivecastledracula · 3 months

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Harry Blackstone Copperfield Dreden, from the Dresden Files

Mr "The building was on fire and it wasn't my fault", Wizard of Chicago, magical right hand thug of Winter, Dad of a small girl and a spirit of intellect, owner of a temple foo dog and a perfectly normal cat, etc. Has canonically fought vampires of the "black court" which are similar to Dracula. Has met the Dresden Files version of Dracula and survived barely.

Survivability will change according to where you are in the series, so let's say at the current book Battlegrounds. If you like, compare with him at the beginning of the series, Storm Front.

"Survived, barely" I think is Harry Dresden's whole mode of being.

I think the question here is going to be less "will Dracula kill Harry" and more "can Dracula kill Harry." Like of course Dracula wants to kill him. Everyone wants to kill Harry Dresden all the time and they're usually right. He aggros vampires on purpose because he is, if you'll pardon the expression, A Little Shit.

Yeah I was gonna say by Dresden Files rules we probably wanna say Dracula is Black Court? I am going to admit right now that I haven't read the books but I have designed a homebrew Sentinels of the Multiverse villain deck around them so I am broadly conversant with them. I've been told the wildest stuff. Santa Claus is there.

(I have seen the TV series but this is about the books)

The thing is... Harry Dresden is protected six ways from Sunday. He has every anti-vampire measure and he knows how to weaponize the rules of hospitality. He'll find some way that Dracula can't harm him while he's a guest in his home, and use that technicality to be an insufferable brat. He's owed favors by tons of ridiculously powerful entities that would love to see him dead. He's a whole wizard, and, unlike some, actually pretty good at it. He's the Winter Knight (is he still after the whole ghost thing?? I can't keep track?) which has got to do something.

And like, he's got that Jim Kirk sex appeal, rendered all the more inexplicable by the fact that he's fundamentally scrungly. For no reason that I've ever been able to determine (again, it might be more clear if I actually read the books), hot immortal women keep sacrificing themselves for him. It would be entirely in character for one or more of the Girlies to be his ex who hates his guts - but then ends up sacrificing herself for him anyway.

I think mechanically Harry should be able in principle to be just fine, BUT because this is Harry "born to suffer" Dresden he will find ways to make trouble for himself and everyone around him. He's creative like that.

......honestly now I want to put Harry Dresden and Harry DuBois in a room together and see what happens. Someone who knows these guys better than I do get on that.

Anyway I don't think it's a Dresden File unless Harry gets beaten within an inch of his life at least in part due to his own poor life choices.

So in all likelihood Harry Dresden, Wizard of Chicago, can survive Castle Dracula. But, as you say, Barely.

#the dresden files #harry dresden #my impression is that everyone wants to kill harry so bad and it makes them so mad when they can't #and also that he's somewhat of a chew toy but also kinda has it coming #wizards and spellcasters

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leona-florianova · 1 year

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The three lives and deaths of Blondie the Courier 6

The Mayor, The Robobrain and The Ghost

After a close encounter with death, where NV mayor Blondie lost their left eye and another piece of sanity, they dedicated their life to finding a way how to keep their body and mind alive no matter what. This lead her on a path of obsession not too dissimilar from how Mr House tried to preserve himself and The Strip.

One of the steps to immortality was once again removing their brain in the Big MT, with the idea that even if their body got destroyed, their consciousness would survive within the brain.

And once again, once removed, but this time moved into a robobrain, the brain itself didnt really see “eye to eye” with its previous body. It reached its own immortality after all. So when the body pleaded for them to get the help of the Think Tank to make an AI copy of their consciousness, it they booted the body out of the Big MT, never letting them back again. The brain then spend their time talking science with Doctor Mobius, keeping the Tink Tank occupied, and doing some light adventuring on their own

Back at the Strip, brainless mayor Blondie didnt feel satisfied with their brain being safe in the Big Empty...They tried make a functional thinking AI of themselves which would then strenghten their policing of the strip. But since the brain was in the Big Empty and refused to communicate, they had to try and repair an old copy of their consciousnes from an old project. A glitched out and broken scan of their personality and old visage .. locked in a loop and useless. Working only as a reminder..ghost of youth long gone.

Before the personality scan could have been turned int o a proper AI, mayor Blondie found their death by falling down the stairs at the Lucky 38..at the age of 70.

After this, the “rights” to The Strip fell into the robotic claws of the Robobrain, who didnt want to do anything with it, and told Yes Man that he can do whatever he wants, but preferably that he should leave it to The Followers of the Apocalypse.

Which... he did

...

Yes Man had mayor Blondies body burried in the Graveyard in Good Springs..

The broken AI was locked in the computers of the lucky 38, untill somebody wanted to teach Mr New Vegas some new songs and somehow accidentally deleted the ghost.

The robobrain still roams the wastes, sometimes returning to the Big MT to check on the Think Tank...Their brain.. slowly deteriorating.

#fonv #fnv #blondie #my ocs #oc #fallout new vegas #fallout #old lady blondie was like.. mr house made NV into police state huh? well i can make it worse #i cant write grrr

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chrysanthemum9484 · 8 months

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DpXDc au where Danny by luck be it good or bad becomes the city spirit of Gotham.

He can leave the city and all but it hurts him due to unbelievable levels of homesickness. Being near the bats whenever he leaves helps a bit.

The bats and birds inherit some abilities which help with stealth, some slight increase in physical prowess, slight gliding and immortality level of healing factor in Gotham. Thankfully Constantine notices and explains it.

Danny always knows everything about Gotham. From people's personal history to their location and current activities.

Gotham is beyond cursed but what the bats are doing weakens the curses bit by bit. They are still a burden though.

Danny has conned the conman Constantine himself into keeping an eye on the curses too and to try remove any of them completely once they feel weak enough. No the bats and birds don't know. Yes they are beyond confused once the Joker out of the blue turns sane and gets put on death row.

Alfred somehow gets cursed into immorality and no one is touching that curse.

Unemployment percentage lowers and lowers slowly but steadily and at some point the batfam have no more goons and loons to fight. Red Hood's goons are registered as employed the very moment they get downgraded to street kid babysitters and worker ladies bodyguards because suddenly there are no more drugs shipped in Gotham.

So out of boredom the batfam annoyed Poison Ivy into creating a forest around half of Gotham, and a fruit and vegetable garden around the other half of Gotham and the most beautiful botanical garden in the center of Gotham.

That leads to lessening pollution, food prices and crime rate being half of what it used to be.

At this point the batfam are annoying their villains to find more legal ways to do what they want to do out of pure boredom. After all there is one theft tried a month at most, the villains have no goons, the Joker is dead and Ivy and Harley are happily tending to lord knows how many acres of land, there are no drug deals to take down, kids and ladies are safer than ever in Gotham and Tim is getting to sleep for 4 hours a day!

The bats create a show for the Riddler to host. He gets to ask all of his riddles and people are actually engaged and enjoying themselves!

Suddenly Red Robin invades Mr. Freeze's Lab, muttering about getting too much sleep and starts working on making a serum to save Nora Fries. And all Mr. Freeze can do is watch and wonder if Red Robin has lost his marbles as he effortlessly heals his wife.

Waylon Jones says 'fuck it' and joins Ivy and Harley and the gothamites slowly start treating him like a person.

Black mask hisses like a cat and leaves permanently with Danny chasing him out with an ecto-broom.

Danny helps Harvey Dent find healthier copying mechanisms.

Scarecrow moves to Amity Park and sets up shop there. Enough said.

And so on and so on.

Eventually Gotham becomes a gothic sunshine city and the batfam are bored to death aside from superhero club Things and Tim is complaining about having a regular human sleep schedule.

Danny is a happy little noodle man due to lack of curses weighting on him.

#chrysanthemum9484 #danny phantom #dpxdc #chrysanthemum writes #danny fenton #batman #dcxdp #batfam #gotham city spirit danny au

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britany1997 · 11 months

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Fate Yields For No One

Chapter Two

It’s here y’all! The next chapter of Fate Yields For No One! I’m so excited for y’all to read it! Hope y’all love it🥰 let me know in the comments if you’d like to be added to the FYFNO Taglist, or to my main list:)

Poly! Lost Boys x Max’s Daughter Reader

Please reblog to support my work!

Prologue, Chapter One

California, 1986

“I know you resent me now, but I’m only doing what’s best for you. I take care of my children, and I hope that in time you can learn to see me as your father.”

Fuck Max. Fuck California. Fuck everything.

The second you’d carved even a sliver of a life for yourself, it’d been forcefully ripped from you. You weren’t allowed to be free. You had been “gifted” with eternal life, but you couldn’t truly live.

Max saw himself as a savior. According to him, he’d rescued you from the gutter, from an impending death. But you’d died everyday since his fangs had sunken into your skin.

A stake through the heart was a kindness you would never be afforded. Your future had never been yours to control.

The room you’d been banished to at the top of Max’s house felt more like a gilded tower as the nights wore on.

You were semi-imprisoned by your self-proclaimed father, and semi-imprisoned by your own will. Max didn’t trust you enough to allow you out alone at night, but you’d be damned if you ever went out with him.

So you stayed, confined to your prison and guarded by Thorn. You seethed in malice, all alone.

Or sort of alone, as you’d done in life, you allowed yourself to escape to worlds within literature. Your bedside table was stacked with Mrs. Dalloway, The Bell Jar, and of course, Jane Eyre. What were you if not a mad woman locked inside a room. All you needed was a match.

You were skimming the pages of The Feminine Mystique when you heard a firm knocking on your bedroom door. Shortly after, Max entered, his tall, broad frame filling the doorway. “I want you to come to the video store tonight, in fact, I’d like you to start working there for me.”

You continued to read, refusing to so much as look at him as he spoke to you, “why’d you knock if you were just going to come in anyway?”

Max frowned, “you’ve been here for almost a month now and you’ve done nothing but refuse to acknowledge me and behave terribly.”

“Not true,” you said nonchalantly, holding up your book and finally meeting his eyes, “I’ve also been reading.”

Max’s head fell into his hands in frustration. “I’ve tried so hard with you but-”

“Tried what?” you interrupted, “thrusting the curse of immortality onto me without explaining what you were doing? Without telling me what it meant? Without giving me a choice?!”

Max crossed his arms, preparing himself for another of your monologues.

“Or maybe you mean ripping me from my home, from the life I’d made for myself. Because God forbid I do anything on my own, God forbid I allow myself to be happy for once in my unlife. No, you’d rather keep me under your thumb, calling yourself my father just to spite me.”

“Are you done?” Max asked, eyebrow raised.

“Might as well be,” you spit, “you can hear me but you never listen.”

“You mock me for calling myself your father, when all you ever do is act like a rebellious child.”

You grimaced and turned your eyes to the ground.

He stepped forward, “I don’t want to use it, but I will.”

You sucked in a breath at his words. He was referring of course, to his thrall.

As your sire, Max had completely power over you. If he chose to, he could utter the words and force you to do whatever he wanted.

Max had assured you that he wouldn’t use this power unless he deemed it absolutely necessary. Yet this didn’t set you at ease. The threat of your agency being stripped from you was constantly present in the back of your mind.

It was better for you to choose to do what he wanted, if it could be called a choice.

You sighed, dog earring your book and throwing it into your tote as you slipped it over your shoulder. You moved to walk out the door but paused in front of Max, “I hope you know how much I hate you.”

He sighed, a sad smile stretching across his face, “I do.”

You arrived at the video store to find that an application had already been filled out for you, and your employment had been approved.

You glared at Max as he pulled out your name tag, “this is demeaning,” you told him.

He rolled his eyes, “having a summer job you were given because of nepotism? Yes, no one has suffered as you have suffered.”

He clipped the name tag to your shirt, “enough with this attitude,” he whispered.

He turned to a pretty, curly haired girl working the counter, “Maria, this is my daughter,” you waved awkwardly, “she’ll be working here this summer, show her what to do.”

He turned back to you, “I’ve got to do inventory, listen to Maria she’s a nice girl.”

With that he patted your arm and headed to the back of the store.

Maria came out from behind the counter and offered you her hand, which you gladly took. “I’m Maria,” she smiled the most genuine smile you’d seen in a long time as she shook your hand, “I’ve been working the night shift alone for forever! I’m really glad to have you here.”

Your cheeks flushed at her words, “well, I’m glad to be here,” you said genuinely. It’d been awhile since you’d had anyone you’d been able to truly connect with.

In her smile you saw the potential for a confidant, something you desperately needed. Maybe you couldn’t tell her about the monstrous side of you, but you wanted her to know everything else. You wanted someone who truly knew you.

The night passed quickly as Maria taught you how to work the register, stock movies, and use the stores check out system. With the rest of your time you were content to listen as she rambled about her life.

You smiled softly as she told you about her friends, her classes, and her family. Maria was the oldest daughter of a huge, tight knit family. Five siblings meant she spent a lot of her weekends babysitting, but she didn’t seem to mind.

She gushed to you about each sibling, their personalities, their quirks, their likes and dislikes, by the end of the night you felt like you knew each of them. You were touched by her obvious care for them.

When the end of her shift came, you were holding back tears. She loved her family just as you’d loved yours. For the first time in a long time, you’d met a kindred spirit, for the first time in a long time, you had a friend.

When she’d finished packing up her things, Maria pulled you in for a hug. “It was so nice to meet you! I can’t wait to see you again for our shift tomorrow.”

Your heart swelled, “I can’t wait either!”

She shot you another one of her bright smiles before turning to head out the door. You beamed to yourself as you fiddled with the register.

“Hey babe, heading out already?” your ears perked up at the sound of someone speaking to Maria.

She giggled, “Paul, you know you’re not supposed to be in here anymore,” she sing-songed.

Paul sighed dramatically, “oh babe I’d stay away, but I’d miss seeing ya every night!”

Maria laughed once more, “we couldn’t have that now could we.”

You rolled your eyes at this Paul guy’s cheesy flirting, wondering why he wasn’t allowed in the store.

“Who’s the new chick,” Paul whispered.

You tried to ignore him as you counted the cash.

“Why don’t you see for yourself Paulie,” Maria teased, “I’ve gotta get going.”

“Sure baby, let me just turn on my charm.”

You could hear his voice dripping with fuckboy confidence. This would be good.

You were jolted from your thoughts by the repeated ringing of the bell on the counter. You sighed, turning around slowly, an annoyed expression on your face.

Your eyes met the blond man’s piercing blue ones, as you stared into them your frustration melted into shock.

Paul’s eyes widened as he realized who you were to him. You wished you could have stopped the word that fell from his lips.

“Mine.”

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@misslavenderlady @6lostgirl6 @ghoulgeousimmaculate @kurt-nightcrawler @pixielostboy @solobagginses @peachpixiesstuff @consuming-karma @gothamslostboy @arenpath @mickkmaiden333 @dwaynedelight @dwaynesluscioushair @paulxbathbomd @flower-crowned-lady @ria-coolgirl @bloodywickedvamp @people-are-strange-87 @lostboys1987girl @anna1306 @feardot-com @miseryharvester @its-freaking-bats @vampirefilmlover @vxarak @arbesa-mind @warrior-616 @softchonk @bitchyexpertprincess @simplyreading96 @mad-is-sad @welcome-to-the-hole @smut-religiously777 @simpingforthe80s @fraudfrog @blenna3967 @faefairi3 @itsyoboysparkel @billyhargrovedemoness1987 @memphiscity69 @rynsfandomsfun @jamie-poopoo @walmartfairy69 @buzzybee-26 @sad-ghost-of-garbage

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