#demoniac girl

[kayakovicyoo]

Night Of The Demons (1988)

#night of the demons #80s horror #terrifying #goth dance #dark femininity #horror girls #gothic #horrorwomensource #horroredit #filmedit #goth #bloody #creepy aesthetic #creepycore #creepy #demoniac #demon #evil woman #evil women #evil #satanic #satanism #satan

[alessiaoldschool1987]

#alessia #oldschool #1987 #italy #inked girls #my photos #photoart #photoday #my art #girl horror #girl photography #twins #photography #love photography #horror #photographers on tumblr #inked beauty #tattoed girls #tattoos #demoniac #art #style #horror story #horror lover #march #march 2024 #goticgirl #gotich

[akai-ito-official]

Demons (Dèmoni) - 1985

#demons #demon girl #demon #evil #devil #satan #satanic #horror #horror movies #horror girls #horror gifs #80s horror #dario argento #italian horror #demoniac #dèmoni #horror movie #horror film #horror films #horror fans #horror fan #horror community #userakaiitoofficial

[genericpuff]

This has been buggibg me for a while. What is the reason why Rachel dehumanizing nymphs?

Cause from what I'm seeing the nymphs getting the most screen time is Daphne, Minthe, Thetis, Psyche and a little bit of Leuce and Echo.

4 out of the 6 nymphs we see are very open in their sex appeal and flirty. Yet for some reason they get discriminated when Hera, Persophone, and Aphrodite do the same thing but get a pass because the are white coded rich people.

For my knowledge (but I could be wrong if so please correct me) nymphs are known to be seductive and sexy but they were well respected just like any other God. They were given given sacrifices to please them.

Is this just another case of Rachel being the so-called "folkorists" who has done the first Google link she see or could there just be how she interprets then but like the rest of her story misses the mark?

So there are a couple different and equally interesting theories on this.

Rachel has established it as canon that the nymphs are lower class. And there are a lot of stereotypes and prejudices against lower class women going into sex work, which we see in LO through characters like Minthe who work as car girls (notice how in the present story Thetis and Minthe are both personal assistants which is also a role that's commonly stereotyped as "the boss' sidepiece" as it's a role often occupied by women in service to men). Even Leuce isn't safe from this:

Normally I'd just say "good for her" but it's clear with how much Leuce has been turned into the delusional girl who "manifests" her fantasies that Rachel is once again conflating sexuality with more negatively-associated character traits for any woman who isn't Persephone (because when it's Persephone it's sexual liberation always, she's not a "sugar baby", she's a "workaholic" who "earned her position and wealth", but when it's Leuce or Minthe or Thetis they're "homewreckers") And yeah, this is a common disconnect that happens between lower class and upper class people, where lower class people (especially women) are often judged and outcast for doing certain things or behaving a certain way which rich upper class people take and adopt and turn into something "trendy" and "empowering".

But there's... another theory that may explain why so many nymphs in the story are being pigeonholed into the "homewrecking sugar babies" stereotype. And you're gonna hate me for this, because I'm sure the gut reaction to reading this from many is gonna be "goddamit not Lolita again!" buuuttt yeah we're gonna talk about Lolita again.

CONTENT WARNING: We're talking about Lolita again, which means discussion surrounding the sexualization of minors is ahead.

There's a certain term the main character of the book Humbert Humbert uses to describe girls who are specifically, and I quote:

"Between the age limits of nine and fourteen there occur maidens who, to certain bewitched travellers, twice or many times older than they, reveal their true nature which is not human, but nymphic (that is, demoniac); and these chosen creatures I propose to designate as 'nymphets'." - Lolita, Chapter 5, Page 18, paragraph 5

It's also very clear from the way Nabokov specifies the definition of nymphet from Humbert Humbert's perspective that the use of the word 'nymphet' is intentionally referencing the root word of Greek origin:

"...I would have the reader see 'nine' and 'fourteen' as the boundaries - the mirrory beaches and rosy rocks - of an enchanted island haunted by those nymphets of mine and surrounded by a vast, misty sea. Between those age limits, are all girl-children nymphets? Of course not. Otherwise we who are in the know, we lone voyagers, we nympholepts, would have long gone insane."

Though Humbert Humbert is obviously not being literal here, the visual metaphor is strongly relying on the etymology of the word 'nymph', but twisting the depiction of nymphs in such a way to support his own fantasies.

And while I'm definitely not trying to accuse Rachel of having the same mindset of Humbert Humbert (seriously, I want to make it clear that I don't think Rachel is a pedophile, just horribly misled at best), it's interesting to me how this specific definition of a nymphet matches with that of Rachel's old descriptions of her own art:

"You have to be an artist and a madman, a creature of infinite melancholy, with a bubble of hot poison in your loins and a super-voluptuous flame permanently aglow in your subtle spine (oh, how you have to cringe and hide!), in order to discern at once, by ineffable signs - the slightly feline outline of a cheekbone, the slenderness of a downy limb, and other indices which despair and shame and tears of tenderness forbid me to tabulate - the little deadly demon among the wholesome children; she stands unrecognized by them and unconscious herself of her fantastic power."

What's interesting is that I did dig up an old profile of Rachel's that actually acknowledged that what she's doing with her art shouldn't be conflated with, well... child porn.

"It's not THAT kind of lolita" and yet the writing feels like it's been smeared all over the wall with shit. There are so many scenes and artistic choices throughout LO that scream "it is that kind of lolita".

Though it is still a theory, and I don't resort to using Rachel's old art of "proof" of LO's shortcomings, I don't think it should necessarily be ignored that the nymphs in LO seem to be characterized very similarly to Humbert Humbert's description of 'nymphets' - devious and promiscuous, and thus easier to blame when predatory men pursue them, rather than holding those predatory men accountable. And we see this in Persephone too, but unlike the nymphs, Persephone is rich, upper class, and of a "superior pedigree". So she becomes the desirable form of a 'nymphet' that's praised and celebrated by the narrative and characters like Hades, rather than the literal nymphs who are shamed and outcast for simply having sexual independence.

Whatever theory you roll with is on you, you can dismiss all this as just overthinking nonsense, but I do think it makes for interesting food for thought because at this point, LO is undeniably - intentionally or subconsciously - influenced by Rachel's relationship with Lolita, and whether or not that influence is aware at all of Lolita being originally written to be a precautionary tale, that remains to be seen.

#lore olympus critical #anti lore olympus #lo critical #ask me anything #ama #anon ama #anon ask me anything

[lilylylalil]

Normal Fucking Day

Alastor × Reader

Before reading, i will like to inform you that this version isn't finish and will never will be, if you want more information i will put a link where i talk why, anyways hope you still enjoy.

Warnings: cursing, blood, killing, reader has a problem

______

Fucking shit…

who could have thought that your co-worker could be a degenerate fucking cult leader…?!

I am sorry but i am done from this shit. Nope this shit is worst then the time that my mother tried to stab me with a fucking sandal. Actually i prefered if i could go to that time then this shit….

Ugh, why the dangerous psychopaths are the hot boys? Literally he is soo fucking hot Alexander. I could say some catching quotes like: “i don't mind you stabbing me~” but i could say that for shits and giggles! Not when that person literaly tried to stab me!?

Alexander almost stabbed Reader untill he paused and look at Reqder and ask:

“Do you always think aloud?”

“Shit! Did i say that aloud?!”

“yes and you are doing again”

As Reader was distracted as she felt ashemed and Alexander had the time in succeding in stabing her on her left shoulder.

“Fuck! You motherless son of a bitch! Hope you choke on a dick! No actually i hope you choke with your salivia! Hope you have the most stupidiest death! I want it to be so stupid that they can't make it public! Like…you electrocute yourself when you tried to use a sex toy when you could be in a bathtub with water you dumb shit-”

Of course Reader inuslted Alexander for the 15 minutes or at leats she planned that but Alexander didn't let her and knock her out.

You may be wandering why didn't she fight back? Well the same reason you start your homework at the last minute. because both of you are stupid.

______

When you opened your eyes you were tied down on a..table…?

“oh great. Do you know people this is how almost every porn video start?”

Actually you didn't know shit because you never saw a porn video in your life, i guess It's a curse and blessing at the same time or…maybe you have been cursed by the god of porn because you didn't watch in your entire life a porn video…

“what the fuck.”

You didn't even look at your surroundings but now with the voice that interrupted your thought you notice there is at least 34 people surrounding you.

“Oh, did i talk at loud again my thoughts?”

You said as you look at them. You had a feeling they were done with your shit without even seeing their faces. Well, it's not your fault they chose to be in a cult.

____

“Borther and Sisters, we are reunited in this beutiful demoniacal hour for our sacrifice for our lord-”

Before Alexander could say something else Reader interrupted him

“if i die as a sacrifice can at least die in peace knowing that i died to a hot god or whatever..?

One in the crowd said

“how dare you, you insolent-”

Reader again interrupted

“yeah yeah, “how could i?” but did you forget how your leader captured me? He propose me a one night stand and he knows how I am weak for pretty boys or girls~”

“okay just stop” Alexander said “Can't you be fucking serious for once in your life?! aren't you afraid for you life?!”

“ho you sweet summer child. Bold of you to assume i love my life-”

“would you shut up if i give you a dollar?”

And that actually did shut Reader as she was similing like an idiot with her one dollar that could not even spend, if the sacrifice was a success or she doesn't escape.

But guess what? Did she even try to escape? Nah, will she regret it? Probably but like she said “future problems for future me”

____

As the cult do its ritual, flames, dark shadow and a dark black light come from no where. Reader wasn't a religious type but that didn't mean she didn't believe in supernatural beings, she was pissy because she didn't have any popcorn for this or maybe she should film it but she thoughts that if she publish on YouTube no one could think the video is real but she could always do some buzz!

Reader didn't have an angel or demon on her shoulders. No, she had another version of her but with an expensive suit with expensive glasses that always thinks “mmmh…is it worth it the effort? Is it beneficial with money?”

anyways like every sane person you think, why Reader is thinking about that when she is in an horrible situation ?! Well i don't know Charle, why are we alive when we will die at the end?!

____

Before Reader could lose any other type of sanity (if it even exist) she stopped her thoughts and look what the fuck the cult members summoned, it could be funny if they summoned an instopable force without any morality and kills you but also the memebers…AHAahah…oh fuck..you realise you jinks it.

And guess what? You were right, the thing that they summoned it attacked everything and killed every members that tried to run away, you didn't know how after all you closed your eyes to not be even more traumatized then you are already but you could certainly hear their screams of pain, it feel like hearing souls from hell getting tortured there. It felt like the entity knew exactly how to inflect pain to give the most horrible death possible.

Even when the screaming stopped you open your eyes again after a good minute and you didn't believe what you are just seeing! A fucking furry…?! Actually you have no idea if It's a half wolf but you are sure that his aesthetic is a little too red for your liking and it felt like even if it had a humanoid appearance it was everything but human. That thing had too much of a dark aura to not feel like fleeing like a little bitch but you were lucky because mama didn't raise a bitch so you are going to face him! Wait- actually mama didn't raise anyone. She was a bit-

Plus it's not like you had a choice, you were still tied up.

You waited for your end (even if you didn't want a furry to kill you, i mean the ears could make you laugh if you weren’t in such a horrible situation)

And waited

And still waited until you see that that thing was looking at you curiously, ominously like it was thinking what to do to you.

Well the little human was right for once, the demon was interested in her why she wasn't screaming or trying to escaped, it isn't as fun if the victim already accepted Its end. That completely cuts Alastor appetite.

“sooo…” a voice break the tension “are you gonna kill me? After all normally i was suppose to be the sacrifice…”

Alastor's smile went even wider as he said with enthusiasm “Oh my dear! Actually that was the plan! But you seem more interested alive." Was that a compliment?

“oh…thanks..? I think….?..”

Alastor chuckles as your no longer tied down with a simple gesture of Alastor's hand.

“Well my dear..should you introduce yourself?”

“you know my mom said to not talk to strangers-” you tried to joke but that beast gaze was becoming a little too dark

.....

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader #alastor

[catherinnn]

How do we always end up like this? part 1

Eddie Munson x cheerleader!reader

part two is already up! link in the end.

Y/n is a cheerleader and is dating one of the basketball players in Hawkins High, but everything she built starts to fall apart when she's paired to do a project with the freak Eddie Munson.

warnings: menstions of sex and little bit of smut (not that much though), cursing, cheating, my English.

a/n: I can't stop thinking about Eddie and I can't stop talking about Eddie dating a cheerleader and making everyone mad, so here you have another one of Eddie x cheerleader because there are never too many of these.

“With that freak?!” Jason asked with a horrified look on his face.

Y/n was having lunch with her friends, and her boyfriend Tom. They were all cheerleaders or players in the basketball team.

She started to hang out with all of them when she became a cheerleader, otherwise they wouldn’t even look at her. But it wasn’t all that bad now, Tom was pretty hot and some of the girls were actually really nice, like Chrissy. She was Jason’s girlfriend.

“Yeah, can you believe it?” her boyfriend answered him. They were just talking about a project she had to do for history class, the professor had assigned the partners for said project, and she was paired up with Eddie Munson. That’s why Jason screamed and why her boyfriend was complaining.

“I pity you Y/n, and if he does or says something weird to you, we’ll take care of it” Jason said.

“I’m sure I’ll be just fine, but thanks anyway” she said. She didn’t really believed he was a demoniac freak like her friends did.

After school she went to her house with Eddie, her parents were working late today so she seized the opportunity to start on the project with him. And they were doing a good job, better than she thought they would. He loses interest often but she knew how to bring his attention back to the topic.

“Alright, I think we’re good for today” she said.

“Yes please, I need a break”

“Oh c’mon, I wasn’t that hard on you, was I?”

“If I answer wrongly will you punish me?” he joked.

“Oh shut up” she laughed.

“It wasn’t you, it’s just that I hardly ever study so it’s all too much at once”

“Yeah I forgot you are the bad boy who gets bad grades, I’ll go easy on you next time”

“It’s fine, I came prepared for a difficult afternoon but you’re not that bad Y/n”

“Why?! What do you think I am?” she said surprised.

“Nah, that’s the thing, you’re not like I’d thought you’d be like” he said looking at her like he was studying her.

“How did you think I’d be like?” she asked looking at him like he was.

“Just… mean and bitchy like all of your other friends are” he responded mockingly, not to her, but to the people she hung out with.

“You know… You’re not like I had thought you’d be like either. You’re not like they say you are”

“A leader of a cult and a freak?”

She laughed.

“I just thought you’d be tougher and –I don’t know, not half as funny and cute like you actually are” she said and immediately after she realised what she called him.

Cute?! It really just slipped from her. She wasn’t wrong obviously and she didn’t take it back but she couldn’t be flirting with another boy when she had a boyfriend.

Eddie must have realised she didn’t think that sentence through and instead she just talked, must have been for the look on her face after she said it or the way she blushed and closed her mouth before saying something else. It was very amusing, he thought.

“So you think I’m cute?” he teased “I’d prefer hot or handsome, but if you say so sweetheart, I’ll believe you”

The grin he had on his face at that moment made her very frustrated. That fucking grin.

“Ok back to the project” she sat straight again looking at the book in front of her, looking at anything else but him. “We don’t have much left so I think in two or three days we can finish it”

“Don’t try to change the subject now” he sat closer to her, “and don’t get all shy on me, no need to be”

He was so close to her and she didn’t want to push him away, she looked into eyes and the rest of his face, he really was hot and handsome too. She couldn’t bring herself to move away, to stop staring at him. If anything she wanted him closer, she wanted to touch his hair, his cheeks. She wondered how his lips would feel against hers. And part of her knew she shouldn’t, but the other part won.

She leaned into him quickly and kissed him. His lips felt soft and warm against hers, and she loved it. She put her hands on his long and messy hair, she loved that too. He put his hands on her waist bringing her even closer, and they kept kissing. She had never felt like that when she kissed Tom, or anyone else for that matter. Oh no, Tom.

She broke the kiss suddenly, she thought about what she just did and she thought about Tom, she started to feel very guilty.

Eddie realised this when he opened his eyes again. He knew she had a boyfriend but he also knew Tom was an idiot who didn’t treat her right, so he didn’t feel very guilty, but he did worry about her, how she would react to this.

She stood up and avoided his gaze.

“I –um, we’re finished here… and I have things to do so” she said.

“Y/n—“ he started but she interrupted him.

“Please?” she whispered, not even looking at him, not even saying his name, she couldn’t.

“Yeah, sure” he sighed.

After he left she thought she would feel better but she didn’t, she actually didn’t know how to feel. She had a boyfriend but that kiss –him—it just made her so confused because she didn’t want to stop it, she wanted to kiss him again. But she and Tom were so good together, they just made sense, the cheerleader with the basketball player, just how it should be.

A week had passed after their kiss, Y/n kept ignoring Eddie and she kept dating Tom, she obviously didn’t say anything to him, that would just make him want to beat up Eddie, more than he naturally wanted, but he would have an excuse now.

Eddie on the other hand, kept staring at her during lunch and the classes they had together, only wanting her to look at him for more than just a second. He had a plan though, they had to finish their project at some point, right?

So he came up to her when she was leaving cheerleading practise, it was getting dark outside and he had also just finished playing D&D with the hellfire club.

“My dear dear Y/n, how are you?” he asked.

“Hi Eddie” she sighed and turned to him. It had been a week, she had to talk to him again at some point.

“Oh, how lovely to hear your voice again. It’s getting dark and I’m sure you wouldn’t want to walk back home with all the stranger things that happen here in Hawkins, so I thought that I should be a gentlemen and drive you home, maybe finish our project even”

She thought about it for a minute. It was getting dark and she was tired and sweaty for her practise, and he was right, they still had their project to finish.

“My parents are home today so I don’t think it would be the quietest place to work in” she answered.

“We can go to my place then” he wasn’t going to take a no for an answer.

“I still have to shower—“

“I have a shower” he interrupted her.

“I don’t have clothes at your—“

“I have clothes and I can be a very good friend and give you some”

Friend? right.

“I can’t say no, can I?”

“I’d prefer that you wouldn’t”

“Alright fine” she finally said.

They drove all the way to his trailer and she got into the shower while he started to look for some clean clothes to give her. He found another hellfire shirt, he thought she would look adorable in one and he picked out some sweatpants for her too.

When she came out of the shower she got dressed with the shirt Eddie gave her but she kept her shorts, they weren’t covered with sweat so she went with those.

“I’d give you one of my boxers so you wouldn’t have to wear the same panties but I don’t think you’ll take them” he joked.

“It’s fine, don’t worry” she didn’t want to think about his boxers and how they would look on him and neither did she want him to think about her in her panties. “We still have work to do, so let’s get started”

They were nearly finished with it after a few hours, but they decided to leave it for another day, they were starting to get hungry and very tired.

They ordered some pizza, Y/n actually thought about leaving and going home but she was having fun with Eddie, he made laugh so much and made her forget about her problems, actually he made her forget about everything else, even having a boyfriend.

“I never played your game, I don’t even know how it works” she responded to one of his questions, they were sitting on his couch –almost laying down on it—and eating.

“I could teach you how to play if you teach me how to use your pompoms and do your dances” he teased her.

“Why would you want to use my pompoms?” she laughed.

“It seems kind of fun” he got up and stoop in front, “you could teach me how to do the…” he finished that sentence moving his arms like he was holding the pompoms and moving them like a cheerleader. “And you could also teach me how to do all the jumping and shit”

She couldn’t stop laughing.

“It’s called a routine, not a dance or jumps and shit” she corrected him.

“Yeah that” he was grinning because she was still laughing, and he was right, she did look adorable with his shirt on. He laid on the couch next to her, very close and facing her. She turned to face him too.

“And you would teach me how to play your game?” she asked.

“I’d be honoured but isn’t it a demonic game to you?”

“Says who?” she asks.

“Your boyfriend and his friends” he answers.

“For what it’s worth, I never thought it was” she said starting to play with the shirt he had on, just moving the end around her finger. “Neither did I think you were a freak or that you were in a cult”

“You didn’t?” he asked looking right at her.

“And I also don’t care about what my boyfriend and his friends say”

“Oh really?” he asked leaning his face closer to hers.

How did they always end up like this?

She nodded slowly, looking at him too.

“You look beautiful with my shirt on” he says.

“Kiss me” she breathes.

And he does.

He grabs her face with one hand and the other is on her waist. She moves hers form his chest to his neck.

They kiss passionately, they stop thinking about her boyfriend, or their project, they just think about each other, and how good they feel together.

He moves on top of her and she puts her legs around his waist. They keep kissing with her hands on his hair and his on her waist and hip, stroking her skin.

They let moans and groans out into their kiss. He kisses her neck and she puts her hands under his shirt touching his torso.

They keep kissing, touching and rubbing against each other for a long time until she falls back to reality.

She’s at Eddie Munson’s house with his shirt on and him on top of her kissing and touching her.

And Eddie is not her boyfriend. Her boyfriend is at his house doing whatever. And the worst part is, she couldn’t care less about what he was doing.

“Wait, stop” she says slowly and quietly. But he hears her.

He sits up and looks at her, scared of what’s coming next.

“It’s late I should go back home” she says a little scared he is going to be mad at her.

“Oh, yeah sure” he responds, “but um, are we going to be ok after this?”

“Eddie I—“

“I know you have a boyfriend Y/n, but I don’t think you like him that much, I mean you wouln’t kiss me if you liked him” he interrupts her.

“No, I know—“

“But what worries me the most is if you’re going back to ignoring me for another week until we finish the project and never speak to me again. Because I’ve liked you for so long now, and you’re making me crazy in a good and a bad way, both” he interrupts her again.

“Eddie would you let me talk?” she asks and he nods “I’m not going to ignore you again, I’m sorry I did but it was all too much, I was cheating on my boyfriend, I still am, and I never thought I’d do something like that. But you, you make so crazy too, I can’t think straight when I’m with you and I love that feeling. I love how you make me feel” she confesses, “I just need a little time so I can figure out what to do”

“I understand, but does that mean that we’ll stop whatever it is that we are doing? Because I really don’t think I can now” he says and starts kissing her cheek and down to her neck again.

“I don’t think I can either, and honestly, I don’t think I want to” she tells him “there’re a lot of other things I want to do to you and a lot of other things I want you to do to me”

She smiles and kisses him. He groans into the kiss just thinking about what she said.

“But for now can you take me home before my parents think I went missing?” she asks him.

“What if I just kidnap you?” he says and goes back to kissing her.

“You’d confirm everyone that you are in fact a freak and a psychopath” she joked.

“I don’t care”

“Take me home please?”

“Ok”

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #stranger things #steve harrington #robin stranger things #eleven #mike x will #hellfirefreak #hellfire club #d&d campaign #cheerleader

[jigoro81500061]

"In this solitude, having just listened to so strange a story, connected, as it was, with the great and titled dead, whose monuments were moldering among the dust and ivy round us, and every incident of which bore so awfully upon my own mysterious case—in this haunted spot, darkened by the towering foliage that rose on every side, dense and high above its noiseless walls—a horror began to steal over me, and my heart sank as I thought that my friends were, after all, not about to enter and disturb this triste and ominous scene.

The old General’s eyes were fixed on the ground, as he leaned with his hand upon the basement of a shattered monument.

Under a narrow, arched doorway, surmounted by one of those demoniacal grotesques in which the cynical and ghastly fancy of old Gothic carving delights, I saw very gladly the beautiful face and figure of Carmilla enter the shadowy chapel.

I was just about to rise and speak, and nodded smiling, in answer to her peculiarly engaging smile; when with a cry, the old man by my side caught up the woodman’s hatchet, and started forward. On seeing him a brutalized change came over her features. It was an instantaneous and horrible transformation, as she made a crouching step backwards. Before I could utter a scream, he struck at her with all his force, but she dived under his blow, and unscathed, caught him in her tiny grasp by the wrist. He struggled for a moment to release his arm, but his hand opened, the axe fell to the ground, and the girl was gone."

- Carmilla - Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu

#carmilla #vampire #dark fantasy #carmilla fanart #digital painting #digital art #jigoro81500061 #joseph sheridan le fanu

[hoony-parker]

ST4 Vol 2 spoilers

Hello! I was wondering if you could do a Steve x reader where the reader is Eddie’s little sister (maybe by like a year so she’s 19) and she has to go with Steve, Nancy, and Robin to go pick up Dustin from the upside down. And when she finds Eddie and he’s dead, she breaks down and Steve comforts her?? And she just kinda clings to him for the rest?

warnings: character death, stranger things vol. 2 spoilers! a lot of angst, swearing. not proofread!!

pairing: steve harrington x fem!munson!reader (there's not so much of a pairing in this fic, though. it's what it says in the ask)

notes: this hurt to write so much. i liked the results, though. i hope you do, too. love you x

w/c: 2.3k

it was all too much.

the monsters, the heavy air around you, the rush, the adrenaline.

hawkins was supposed to be boring. hawkins was supposed to be a little old town in indiana where absolutely nothing happened. instead, you found out there's monsters, demoniac bats and a wizard with bad skin that's trying to incriminate your brother for murder.

you knew eddie. you were his little sister, after all. but you knew, and could assure and swear for your own life that your brother was not a murder.

he was a dork who liked metal music, d&d, and smoking pot. a lot.

but he was still the same nerd who practically raised you when no one else would.

your big brother, only two years older than you, and now even going to your senior year alongside you, had made sure your hair was in perfect piggy tails back in elementary school so you could be the coolest out of all the little devils you called your classmates.

those damned toddlers had made fun of your hair more than once for not being styled delicately and prettily. and when they found out you lived in a trailer park? school became hell. you had come home crying more than once about the girls in your class calling you ugly and the boys calling you poor, and eddie thought that that was just cruel.

you were, hands down, the sweetest girl in the world. and, no. eddie wasn't just saying it because you were his little sister. but because you were everything he wasn't.

you were sweet and kindhearted. the type to pick every plastic wrapper you found on the floor and throw them away in the trash can. the type to find lost puppies in the street and beg your uncle to just take them to the vet to make sure they're okay, and you'd be on your way. the type to help with dinner and color eddie's homework and write it prettily so he'd have extra credit. you were the kindest soul he had ever met.

yes, you were a little different from your classmates. you didn't have a mom, or a dad. you had your uncle and your older brother, instead.

you didn't have a big house or a backyard. you had a trailer and the whole fucking trailer park to run around in, if you ever felt like it.

you didn't have a bed. you slept on the couch and, whenever you had nightmares, you'd sleep with eddie.

yes, you were a little different from your classmates. but you wouldn't trade your life for anything.

and it surely wasn't a surprise when you walked out of school monday afternoon and found all your classmates crying and cursing when they found out that the tires from their bikes had been cut and ruined.

so, no. there was no way eddie was a murderer.

you never would've guessed you'd be fighting monsters a couple of months before graduation.

you were fighting monsters, for god's sake. the same ones you were afraid of when you were a toddler, and had to sleep next to eddie so you could at least get some sleep. the same ones that appeared only in your darkest nightmares and thought they'd get you in your most vulnerable times. the same ones eddie always swore he'd protect you from.

anyway, you found yourself fighting alongside robin, one of your dearest friends from school, nancy wheeler and the ex-king from hawkins high, steve harrington.

dustin had come along, too. trailing closely behind like a lost puppy when you dropped down to the upside down through a gate in your trailer, it seemed like.

you were going to kill vecna.

you were supposed to go after him. that was the plan. dustin and eddie were going to distract the demobats so you could go after vecna without any drawbacks, and you'd go after his head.

"don't die," eddie had told you, grabbing your forearm and pulling you roughly into a hug, squeezing your body close to his with one arm around your shoulders, and his other hand supporting the back of your head while he buried it in his shoulder, resting his chin on the top of your head. "yeah, you either," you had answered, words muffled against the fabric of his clothes, his hellfire club shirt now firty and thorn in some places due to the battling all of you had gone through the last couple of days.

you had felt him chuckle quietly against you, and you pushed him away to look up at him, staring directly into his eyes. "i'm serious," you had said. "i need my big brother."

the slight shake in your voice had immediately caused eddie's smile to fade, replacing it by a frown when he noticed the seriousness in his voice. it seemed like he had struggled to comprehend just how real all of this was until the moment you made him promise he was going to come back to you. "you'll have him for a long time, teddy," he'd assured you naively, calling you by the familiar nickname he had called you since you were little, afraid, and safe under his wing.

"you'll have to bear with me for a long, long time," he had promised. you had given him a kiss on the cheek, another hug and wished him good luck, ruffling dustin's hair quickly and with affection. "keep your promise," you had whispered in his ear with one last, big hug.

he had just smiled back, almost blinded by his thoughts and the little voices in his head that reminded him that he was indeed in another dimension, and he was there to kill a fucking demon that ruined his life.

eddie couldn't begin to understand when his life had changed so much so quickly. just a couple of days ago, he was known as eddie 'the freak' munson, a weird, yet harmless, guy who hung out with other weirdos to play a board game and smoked weed — and sold it— every once in a while.

now, he was being looked after for a homicide he didn't even commit. his life was ruined, along with his chances of improving his life and, maybe, get you and him out of the hell hole the trailer park was. if he went back to hawkins, he'd get arrested. he'd probably not be believed in when he told the authorities the truth— because, who would believe a freak, drug dealer anything he said?

he lost already. he wouldn't be able to graduate highschool again, and he'd have to do senior year all over again, again. eddie couldn't give you what you deserved even when he tried his hardest, and he did because, after his third try, he was finally, finally, graduating highschool.

if he went back to hawkins, he'd have to run away. out of the state, maybe. and if it wasn't far enough, out of the country. he'd have to get away from you to keep you safe. if you love something, let it go, he'd tell himself, in hopes of making the process of leaving his little sister behind easier. it didn't.

but he'd swore once he'd keep you safe, and he intended on keeping that promise.

the time passed, and after fighting more creatures and thinking you were running in circles in a constant loop, it seemed like you had finally broken the curse.

you ran in search for your brother, looking around to try to recognize your surroundings and the place you had last seen him in, legs moving faster than your thoughts and lungs on the edge of collapsing after the agitated breathing.

your vision was blurry. everything was, by now. from the day all the events started until now, nothing seemed coherent.

the blurriness didn't stop you from noticing two figures a few feet ahead, lying on the floor and surrounded by what seemed the corpses of thousands of demobats. your heart sank, body turning cold as you kept repeating yourself that no, this isn't real. this is a nightmare. you just have to open your fucking eyes.

you didn't just fight an interdimensional monster. you didn't just get knocked down by a demoniac bat. you didn't see a seven feet tall monster with a big mouth for a head and infinite rows of teeth.

that could only happen in your worst nightmares. soon, you'll wake up from this nightmare. you'll be six years old all over again, and eddie will get you some of the shitty hot chocolate you bought and distract you from your bad dream to get you to fall asleep easily again.

it's a nightmare, because you didn't just realize that your big brother is dying in his friends arms while in another dimension. it's all fake. it must be.

you ran, chest contracting once you approached them enough to fall to your knees, eyes widened and your eyeballs almost dry from the lack of blinking, gaze kept in your brother. "no!!" you screamed, slightly pushing dustin aside to bring eddie's body over your lap, and you encircled him with both of your arms to keep him from falling. "no, no, no, no, no," you repeated, over and over again like a mantra. like the word would turn back the events, bring you back to normal.

he looked tired, in pain. strands from his hair fell over his eyes, stuck together from the blood and sweat. his shirt, previously only covered in dirt, now soaking with the crimson colour of your brother's blood. so, so precious and useful, and you could see how fast it was flowing out of him. it made you shake with anxiousness.

"hey, teds," he smiled, lips pressed together and words told through gritted teeth. the pain was evident in his features, face, body and soul. you shook your head. "what did they do to you?" you asked, looking down to his torso to inspect the damage. "that bad, huh?" he teased, blood spurting from his lips while he mouthed the words. "what did you do, eds?"

your voice was merely above a whisper, and dustin beside you covered his mouth with the palm of his hand, desperately trying to quieten the sobs that fell from his lips.

you didn't have the strength to get your voice any louder. you didn't feel you had the need to, either. eddie could hear you, and that was enough.

"i went to become a hero," he smiled again, now his lips tugged up with pride. it pained you, his words cutting through your soul like a knife that sent you to agony. it had never dawned you, just how much eddie needed to show the others what he could do.

all those years, you had thought it was enough. that you were enough. wasn't it obvious you already thought he was your hero? hadn't you thanked him enough?

was this the cost?

a tear fell down your cheek. hot and cold. hot, trailing down the skin in slow motion mercilessly. cold, as it let the wet path make contact with the oxygen and cool your skin.

the mix of feelings only brought you more confusion.

"you promised," you reminded him in a whisper.

he looked at you once more, and the way his body shook violently in his grasp made more tears fall, already anticipating what was to come.

"y-yeah. i also promised— i also promised to protect you."

"but you're hurt," you cried. "and you're safe, right?" he coughed, spitting more blood.

looking down to your clothes, you brought your shaky hands to your shirt and tore a big piece, bringing it to his biggest wound and pressing on it in hopes of preventing more blood from coming out, earning a wince from your brother that had you apologizing under your breath. you looked at your hands and avoided his gaze.

"i'm getting you outta here, eddie. j-just stay awake, yeah?"

"you are safe, right?" he repeated. the softness, yet urgeness in his tone got you whipping your head to his direction.

you stayed quiet for a second. a second too long, maybe. but, if you said no, what would you win from that? telling him the truth when he was at his worst, and when he had intended to keep his promise, would lead you to nothing. it kept you thinking.

"i'm safe, eds," you smiled tearfully.

you so desperately tried to blink the tears away. but your eyes felt so full of them, glossy and heavy, that as soon as your lids made contact, the droplets didn't hesitate in running down your skin once again.

he breathed out a laugh, pained and breathless. "that's— t-that's good. good."

eddie let his head fall back, and you hugged him closer. "i'm sorry, eddie. i'm sorry, i'm sorry," you sobbed. "i love you, i'm sorry."

"i didn't run away this time," he smiled. you shook your head. "you didn't. you didn't run. you're so, so brave eds. i'm sorry," you went on.

"s'not your fault—" he coughed, "none of it. none- none of this' your fault, teddy," he assured you.

and you could feel their presence behind you. your friends, those who gave it all to kill vecna, right behind you. and you could feel their pitty— their sympathetic smiles and frowns. still, you didn't know how you felt about it.

you didn't have time to think of it.

"stay with me," you whispered, begged him. "stay, please."

and eddie just made an effort to look at steve, right behind you, and he felt ready. he could go, and you'd be fine.

you'd be fine.

then, his head fell back, and you couldn't hear his breathing anymore. his eyes were open, looking into nothingness and lifeless still.

you ached, lungs expanding with a loud sob and you cried and, mere seconds later, steve crouched beside you to pull you to him. slowly, he closed your brothers eyes, swallowing the lump in his throat and kept his arms tight around you, pressing his head to yours and pulling your head to his neck, encouraging you to hide there— you'd be safe there. hidden.

but eddie was gone, and died a hero.

he was always your hero.

all your life, yesterday, tomorrow, forever.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #stranger things #stranger things s4 #steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington angst #joe keery #joe keery x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader

[see-arcane]

Why was Count Dracula Old at the Start?

Hello, Dracula enthusiasts, I have a question for you. I’ve read it before, so feel free to give spoilers in the tags/replies, but I cannot be bothered to skim ahead and double-check, SO:

Does anyone in this book club know exactly why Dracula was an old white-haired dude when Jonathan showed up and only bothered with his bloody spa treatment when he was about to leave? I honestly don’t remember if this was explained in the book or not. Until it’s disproven, my only guesses for now are

1. He wanted to appear elderly and benign to Jonathan, so he fasted to look old. (But then how do all the Brides look fresh despite their stints between kid meals? I don’t see Drac keeping them fed and not himself, even for a ruse. The guy is just a touch self-centered. That big blood buffet in Jonathan’s last castle entry suggests he gorged himself like a tick, though—out of necessity or celebration or just because he couldn’t bear to leave without finally taking a draught from Jonathan? I’m 50/50 on it.)

2. While it’s speculated that he was Vlad the Impaler pre-vampirehood, it’s not quite stated outright if he is. Or, more importantly, just what his hocus pocus was to do some self-made monster transformation. All it mentions is vague sorceries and alchemies and such, but that would imply he A) Was not Vlad at all, but one of the myriad Dark Ages warriors who went by Dracula or a variation, B) Might have been Vlad, and the historic guy who was killed on the battlefield was a stand-in mistaken for him, or C) Either way, Dracula was an old man when he did his magic and that elderly state is actually his default look when not indulging regularly. If the whole blood diet thing is a twofer deal of eternal life/regained youth, maybe it was performed in the first place to return to his prime.

3. Transformation is kind of a big thing with Dracula. Not just age wise, but with bats, wolves, assorted beasties in general. He could have willed himself to seem older. Again, to seem like a kooky old man to Jonathan on arrival and get his guard down. But it seems a little superfluous.

4. A combination. One that ties into his desire to pull up stakes—ha ha—and sink his teeth into—HA HA—England, the beating heart—HA—of Colonization Station. We see him giddy in his longwinded diatribe to Jonathan about the glorious era(s) of war, bloodshed, and conquering. We see him ‘take care of’ (and chide) his implied harem of Brides who he doesn’t interact with more than twice. And there’s that comment about ‘Never loving’ from the girls, which Dracula huffs about, looking to Jonathan and them as he insists he has and can love. All of which is while Dracula is already in full teaboo mode. All England, All the Time, Love Me Some London.

Why? The obvious reason is that the Count has recognized that land as the chokehold country it is, having its fingers in all kinds of global network/colony pies. A great place to start drumming up his own empirical hold. Fun. But again, why bother, Dracula? You’re Dracula! You’re immortal and supernaturally gifted and rolling in ye olde gold and can snatch up any pretty young thing you want! Why bother throwing yourself into Conquering and Bloodshed II: Transylvanian Boogaloo?

I think the frank answer is: purpose. Call it a hobby, call it a passion, call it a fixation, call it some big demoniacal imperative to (suddenly) put vast swaths of new blood in his thrall..!

But at the bottom, it’s just a reason to climb out of the coffin again.

Because I think Old Man Dracula has been letting himself age—or imposing that form on himself by will alone—for a very lo-o-ong time. He isn’t really ‘old’ after all; he’s ancient. An Alexander the Great who conquered death itself and has existed long enough to see the shine come off all the wonders he’s won for himself. Wealth and blood and beauties and power and enough generations of terrified locals under his thumb for them to Know Not to Fuck with That. And that…gets dull. A century, maybe two, maybe three into the King of Vampires game, it all just runs together, doesn’t it? No plans to make. No goals to fulfill. No flavor of terror or ecstasy or, hell, simple interaction to engage his brain and guile.

So he stews and stews, imposing the guise of the weary old man on himself, only bothering with his collection of vampire companions as a matter of routine. And isn’t that something in itself? As monstrous sexual predator-coded bogeymen go, only taking three babes for keeps seems an awfully low number. Almost as if he couldn’t be bothered to gather more. Not when they and everything else bored him. Even blood bores him; he takes an odd sip here and there, but what’s the point in putting effort into the game? He lets himself fade on the outside, even as his power keeps on ticking within. I bet he sighed every time he bothered to jump some hapless traveler and exsanguinate them, sans relish.

But then it occurs to him—Well, you won’t break out of this funk rotting in your castle, Count. Get back out there! See how the world’s progressed! See new places, eat new people! Start planning a conqueror’s holiday. You deserve it, champ.

Which is why I think Jonathan met the most young-blooded geriatric giant in the world when he got to Castle Dracula. The Count was on the brink of returning to his young-old self because now there would be a reason to get dressed up and devilish again. He even got to get all the rust out of his mentally menacing muscles with his good friend, Mr. Jonathan Harker, a fresh face from the land he meant to pounce on, totally, gloriously unprepared and unaware of what he was dealing with.

In short, I think Old Man Dracula only happened because he was also Depressed Immortal Bastard up until that point and had, counter to his ladies’ verve and diet, been very listless until he decided to dust himself off and go drink in England. But again, if anyone else knows for sure why he seemed that way at the start, please feel free to point out what section to look at. Hell, maybe it was somewhere in Jonathan’s early entries and I just missed/misread it.

Of course, it could just be the secret 5th reason, ‘Bram Stoker wanted a visual representation of blood making the Count younger and the age-down via blood drinking was an easy display,’ but I want to hope/know it’s a more nuanced reason Just Because

#I'm currently outlining a thing and genuinely need to know if there was a canon 'Why?' for Dracula's appearance at the book's start #I just don't see him letting himself turn to an old man for no reason when the whole point of choosing vampirism is chasing immortality #anyway #shout out in tags/replies/messaging if anyone knows what part of the book to look at #dracula #dracula daily #count dracula

[midnightmah07]

Charlotte (Lottie) and Dorothy Leech! One was planned the other not 😇 Literally, when the X-ray of Grace, and saw two little hearts, you can see from afar Azul passing out-

AT LEAST IT WAS TWO (demoniacal) GIRLS

KSJSKJSKSJS HELP

AZUL TOTALLY PASSED OUT LIKE OH MY GOSH IT'S DOUBLE TROUBLE.....

#💙! mah's answers #💙! barbs<3

[tati3001]

Dear Sister

MULTIVERSE OF MADNESS SPOILERS

Summary: The Scarlet Witch was motivated to find her children. She was going to cross hell if she needed. She was not going to allow anything or anyone to stop her. Not even Wanda herself. It's a good thing she's not as alone as she thinks she is.

Author's note: This is kinda what I wanted to happen in the movie, and I kinda changed a little bit of what happened. Or fill in the blanks of it. But I do have another idea to change the ending of the movie but we'll read that later. There's also a piece of Lizzie's interview when Jett hit her xD.

Words: 3,364

Charles had been the only Illuminati who may have the chance to stand up against Wanda. Of course, their stubbornness wouldn't allow them to win against her. Nobody truly could. She was set on a goal and she was not gonna stop until she got what she wanted. No one was gonna get her to stop chasing America.

But he could try, couldn't he?. His friends and coworkers were dead. If he was gone too, who was gonna reason with her?. He knew better than the rest. He always had. That's why he had let Doctor Strange get away with what he wanted.

And he knew that the girl in front of him was not the killer everyone painted her to be. She was not mean, cruel or evil. She was just Wanda. The sweet mother of the two crazy twins that had Erik's heart. He knew he couldn't reason with the scarlet witch. But no one said he couldn't try to reason with Wanda.

He firmly stood his ground and acted before the Scarlet Witch could. He infiltrated her mind and went into her subconscious. It was white. Ironically, for someone who was doing so much evil. Someone who was accumulating so much red in her ledger. But there was the only colour, with the exception that there was a door.

He could walk around it, of course. But he felt the door was trying to protect him from something or someone on the other side. Or maybe, it was the other way around. He opened it and walked inside, straight to the rumble of stone and debris.

He noticed a small vintage Tv laying on top of a rock. It wasn't a show that was playing. It was that sitcom Wanda had created for herself. Just after she lost Vision. Well, 616 Wanda. Yeah, that was not his first encounter with another universe being. And he knew a lot about earth 616. More than anyone should.

But he didn't stop. He ignored the Tv playing Wandavision and made his way to the small space. A hand reaching for him suddenly came into his view, making him slightly jump.

"Help me, please" She sounded terrified. He knew he had to help her. "Wanda Maximoff, your mind is being held hostage by your alter self". He gently fell to his knees and he tried to pull Wanda out of there. "Take my hand, if I can pull you out of the rubble the spell should break". He needed her to control her body once again and pushed the Scarlet Witch deep into her mind.

That's all he managed to say before he felt the scarlet cloud appear behind him. Wanda looked at it and knew there was no chance she could leave. But then she was taken away. She was surrounded by darkness, and of course, she was scared. She was under many rocks that could fall on top of her, surrounded by nothingness. And this time, Pietro was not with her. And on top of everything, she was being held hostage in her mind by a version of herself that was terrifying, to say the least.

But what terrified her the most, is that she allowed the Scarlet witch to enter her mind once more. And because she had let her guard down, she had let Billy in too. He had witnessed the scarlet witch in his mother's mind, and if she was terrified of her, she couldn't imagine what Billy was feeling.

But she knew, that as long as the Scarlet Witch was keeping her there, she was not going to hurt her children. They were safe, but most importantly they were away from her.

Her back hit the floor and the presence of the witch appeared on top of her. It wasn't even the face they shared. The demoniac version of her, straight out of a horror movie was on top of her. The same demon that had ripped Charles's jaw apart from his face was looking at her, and Wanda wanted to cry at the sight of her.

"You're not going anywhere" She whispered before she disappeared. The brunette never knew she could fear so much herself, her magic, her face. But here she was, lying on the floor of her subconsciousness without a way out.

She couldn't tell where her body was. Or how much time she had been trapped in her mind. To be honest, it felt like ages. She never knew that her mind could be so boring. After many years of voices and thoughts that didn't belong to her playing in her mind 24/7, the silence she was surrounded with was terrifying.

But after what felt like ages, she was finally free. Her mind was able to break free from her prison, and she was back in control. But oh god, what the hell had the other Wanda done. She looked around, trying to understand where she was. But she didn't have a clue. She had never seen this place before.

However, there was something more important to her than knowing where she was. "My boys" She called. She pushed herself out of that place and started to run out of the tunnels, through the doors that she had destroyed.

She limped back, up the stairs and out of the baseman. She was filled with oil, and her foot was bleeding. But she didn't care. Not even when she saw Charles' lifeless body. If he was truly dead she didn't know, she thought about what happened in her mind, and she didn't hear Charles's neck-breaking.

But she could take care of that later. She needed to get to her boys, and she needed to get there now. So pushing her hands down, she elevated through the air and home she went. The door was closed when she landed, but she didn't think anything out of the ordinary about that. Even if the town of Westview was one of the safest towns - Thanks to Wanda - She knew that someone could go into Wanda Maximoff's house and hurt her children.

She pushed the door opened and was about to scream her kids' names when a teddy bear crashed against her. She moved her hands towards her face to protect herself from the projectiles of toys that were coming at her. "Stop it!" But the kids didn't listen. "Boys!... Boys! It's me!" The toys stopped for a second and she let her hands drop not expecting a soccer ball to be thrown at her.

"Hey!" She exclaimed. "It wasn't us!" They yelled at the same time. Wanda looked at the man behind her kids, who she knew threw the ball at her. "Sorry. I thought you were her" He murmured. She sighed and limped inside the house. The twins shared a look, in which Tommy asked Billy if she was their mother, but the question was answered when he called out to her. "Mom?" Billy called. She held onto the couch and looked at him. "Are you okay?" Tommy followed.

She smiled at them and softly nodded. "Go finish your homework please" They would've complained, but they knew better than that. With a look at the man in the kitchen, they went up the stairs and into their room. In a matter of seconds, the man in the kitchen was beside her and took her into his arms.

He sat her down on the kitchen aisle and started to look for the first aid kit. "It's under the sink" She whispered. The superhero followed her instructions and looked where she said. After getting it, he kneeled in front of her and started to cure her feet. While he was doing it, he remained silent. And Wanda couldn't take a single more second of it.

"Talk to me" She whispered. "What do you want me to say?". "Anything". He sighed and looked away for a second. "Wanda, you killed the whole Illuminati. All of them in a matter of seconds". "It wasn't me" He looked at her. "Pietro you have to believe me. It wasn't me".

"Then who was it?" He looked at her expecting her answer. "Why would I want to kill them? What reason would I have to destroy every single one of them? When all I want is to live in peace with my boys?". "Then who was it?" He asked. "If it wasn't you. Who killed them?". "I... It..." She sighed. "Remember when Daddy talked about the multiverse?" Pietro nodded. "It's real. And what Agatha said about the darkhold... There's a spell, in which you can move your mind into a variant's body... Like possessing it". "It's that what she did to you?" He asked.

Wanda nodded as Pietro stood up and started to clean the oil from her face. "It was horrible" She whispered. "I was trapped in my mind. It was dark and cold, and I was under the rocks again" Her eyes were full of tears but she couldn't focus on them. Not when her mind was replaying everything she went through.

"And I was alone" She continued to whisper. Pietro gently pulled her into his arms and kissed her head, even tho her hair was filled with oil. She rested her forehead on his shoulder and allowed him to comfort her. That is until her front door was slammed open.

She jumped in her place and hid behind her brother, scared that the witch had come back for her. Even tho she knew if that was the case, she would just take control of her. "What Did You Do". It wasn't even a question. Before she know it Pietro was thrown away from her and the biggest mutant, Magneto himself was inches from her face screaming at her and holding her by her shoulders, so she couldn't escape.

She had tried to push him away, but the man was physically stronger than her. And her soft hits had done nothing more than infuriate him more. She could feel his saliva falling on her face with every scream he did, and every shake he gave to her made her cry even harder. "Stop it!" Pietro yelled at him. Erik ignored him and kept pushing the woman.

Pietro ran to his side and started to pull Erik's arm away from his sister. He pushed him away and was about to put his hand on her shoulder once again when Pietro screamed. "You're scaring them!" Erik stopped long enough to turn around and presence the younger twins looking at him scared. Trying to hide on the stairs.

"Let go of our mom," Tommy asked scared. "You're hurting her" Billy followed, holding onto Tommy's arm. The powerful mutant let go of her shoulders and Wanda was in Pietro's arms in seconds. The speeder looked at the man with fury in his eyes and shield his sister from him.

"Calm the F down. We'll talk tomorrow" He stated. He watched as the mutant started to walk towards the door but stopped and turned around. "Wanda-". "Dad" Pietro called him. "Tomorrow. Out. Now" Their father sighed and left the house. Both kids ran down the stairs and hugged the crying woman.

They clenched to her sides and didn't let go of her. "It's okay" Pietro murmured against her forehead, kissing it softly. "It's okay, I'm here. I'm not leaving you. You're safe, and most importantly Wands, you're not alone".

After a few more minutes of the three younger Maximoffs holding onto each other and him, he gently pulled away. Pietro sent Wanda to the shower and took his nephews to the kitchen to eat something. As soon as they were done they ran upstairs and jumped on their mother's bed.

"Go put in your Pj's" He ordered. They walked out of the room just for Wanda to walk out of the bathroom. She walked straight into her brother's arms and melted there. Her kids didn't take long to come back, and the four of them cuddled in her bed. Wanda, He called. I want you to show me. At first, she didn't want to show him but eventually accepted and let him into her memories.

They lay in bed like that was the end of the story. New day new beginning. If only they knew.

· 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

Erik moved his leg up and down, trying to wait patiently for her daughter to come downstairs. He could feel the staring gaze of his grandkids, but every time he turned around they would hide from him. He sighed and turned around to keep waiting. But eventually, he grew out of his patience. Not like he had a lot.

But he decided he couldn't wait anymore. He stood up from the couch and walked toward the stairs. A ball on his feet stopped him from going up, and he knew who it belong. He turned around to find Tommy looking at him between mad and scared. "I'm not going to hurt her. I promise" He lifted his hand to show them he was serious. "Uncle P is gonna be there too".

The twins looked at each other before allowing him to go up. They sat on the couch and started to watch Snow White and the seven dwarfs. Wanda was pacing in her room, back and forward as Pietro tried to tell her everything was going to be okay. A knock on the door stopped her in her tracks and she looked at Pietro like she wanted the floor to swallow her.

Pietro allowed their father to go inside the room but provided a safe distance between him and his sister. "Please, Wanda. I just want to know" He asked calmly. "What happened to Charles?". Wanda sighed but started to explain everything from the beginning. From the first time, she felt the other Wanda trying to get into her head, how she was able to get in and how she was able to control her body and locked her inside her mind.

How she had no control over what was happening outside of her mind. How she was almost sure that his neck was not broken, just his jaw. "How is that better?" He asked. "She snapped it inside my mind. I'm sure Daddy's mind shields him to protect him from the trauma. So maybe he's just... Unconscious".

"Can you wake him up?". "I could try... But maybe Jean could do it". "No" Both men decided against that idea, and for very different reasons. Erik wanted nothing to do with Jean, not after what she did to him and his people. Especially he didn't want her close to Charles. Pietro knew that Wanda's idea for Jean to take over was just a deflection from her fear. Now that she knew what she was capable of, she was scared of her powers.

"She's not getting anywhere close to your dad" Erik mentioned. “No one is. I don’t trust any other people getting into something so private as your father’s mind”. “But maybe I can’t undo what she did” she answered as her fingers moved anxiously. “But you can try” Pietro mentioned. “And you will succeed” Erik finished. Although both kids noticed how it wasn’t an encouragement. It was an order.

Wanda was about to reply when she heard the screams of her children calling out for her. Implying the witch was at their house. She ran out of the room and down the stairs where she met with her kids. She gently pushed them behind her while she confirmed to them that she indeed, was their mother.

She created a ball of energy, preparing herself to fight against the woman who had taken her mind before. She looked nothing like the witch that had to watch her in her mind, but she was just as intimidating. Especially with how crazy she looked.

The woman left the girl go and moved towards them, pushing the couch away with magic. “Get away from them!” She ordered, as she lifted Wanda and threw her away. Her back crashed against the ceiling and her side hit the bookshelf before she hit the floor.

“Mom!”. “Mommy!” Her kids yelled. “Get away from our mom!” They kept yelling at her as they threw their toys at the witch. Wanda lay on the floor, scrunching her face in pain. She had something broken. But god, she for once in her life was glad her kids didn’t listen to her when she asked them to pick up their toys.

“Stop it!” The read-headed Wanda screamed when a toy hit her face. Both kids looked at her terrified before they ran toward the stairs, trying to create distance between them. Wanda, I (from 616) walked towards the kids, trying to hold on to her tears. She finally had them. And they were terrified of her.

“Please don’t hurt us” Billy cried. And her small smile faded away. Her brown frowned and she shook her head. “I would never hurt you. Never. I would never hurt anyone. I’m not a monster”. She saw Tommy looking behind her, looking at his mother. She wasn’t a monster.

But was she not? As much as she wanted to believe it, she wasn’t their mother. And she hurt the woman that was. Even if they were the same human being. Well, they were not. That Wanda had everything she wanted. She had her family. What did Wanda herself have? Only the scarlet witch. Who she knew was controlling her, but she didn’t have the strength to fight her anymore. She had tried for a whole year and at the end of the day, who was there to help her contain the witch? Who was there to hug her when everything got too much? Who was there to greet her when she came back home?.

No one. Because Wanda Maximoff was not destined to have a family. She wasn’t destined to have someone to love or someone who loved her back. She was destined to grieve forever, for a family she could never have. She was destined to destroy the world because what had the world done for her?. At the end of the day, the only people who would hold Wanda while she cried in bed were the blankets of her bed and her arms. Nobody cared for her anymore.

As the realization hit her, she slowly started to walk away from the kids she had terrorized too much. When they saw her walk away, they immediately ran toward their mother, who sat down and embraced the scared children. They asked if she was okay and she answered that she was, while silently confirming to herself that they were also okay.

For the first time in a year, Wanda pushed the scarlet witch away. And as she took control of her mind and body, so did the endless grief that never left her. She sank to her knees, crying for the family she would never have.

The twins were trying to stop their mother from standing up, but the woman ignored them. She slowly and in pain walked to the crying woman, and gently lifted her face. She had her eyes closed like she was waiting for a hit. But when she didn’t get anything, she opened her eyes and Wanda could tell that her green eyes were indeed a window to her soul. To her broken and hurt soul. Wanda felt bad for her. It was obvious that her other self had been through so much. But as much as she wanted to she could do nothing to fix it.

“Know that they’ll be loved” She whispered. Before America closed the portal. She sighed and looked around her destroyed living room. Her kids ran to hug her, and her father and brother ran down the stairs.

“Are you okay?” Pietro asked. But before Wanda could answer, the door opened wide and Mordo walked inside. “Wanda Maximoff” He angrily exclaimed. The family turned around to see him and noticed the multiple Ultrons behind him. “You’re under arrest for complicity in the murders against the Illuminati”.

· 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

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#wanda maximoff x reader #elizabeth olsen x reader #wanda maximoff #scarlet witch #multiverse of madness #wanda maximoff smut #wanda #doctor strange 2 #wanda maximoff x you

[ablogintwoacts]

Yeshua, she remembers his dark eyelashes and crescent moon smile and the way he touched her back when she splashed him in the river water, playing as children do, but they were too old to play those games anymore so she watches him hungrily in the synagogue from afar, and she alone sees him on the outskirts of the village arms outstretched to the heavens, lips moving silently, holy words only Adonai is privileged to hear.And she still remembers the day he left Nazareth, his brown feet precociously bare and his carpentry tools left behind, his mother Miriam laughingly fussing over him even as tears spilled down her pillowy cheeks. She would have followed him to the border of Eden if he asked but he never asked. And when she hears the rumors, the stories of leper’s spots dissolving off and evil spirits jumping into the cooking fire flames and fevers broken and priests reprimanded and windstorms banished and dead girls opening their eyes blooming with new life and second birth, she doesn’t scoff or question or gossip, she only wonders why again the dead girl awakened with the graze of a wrist wasn’t her. In the three years of his ministry she is wedded, and sets up her own household, and is welcomed into the circle of women weaving stories at the well, and a baby takes root in her womb only to end in a mess of blood, and she wonders, she wonders if he were still here if that would have been different along with everything else. And then another baby grows in her womb and this time she doesn’t bleed, but labors and bears a tiny babe, a boy named for his father, and she sobs on her pallet at night. And when her husband takes a fever and goes down to Sheol i, she wonders if she is one of those demoniacs damned by the Lord because she does not grieve, she plans. She leaves her swaddled infant on her sister’s doorstep. And she sandals her slim brown feet and sets off without a backward glance. He may have left her, but she will seek and find him with all of her heart. But his infamy has grown and she blends into the stunned crowds of followers, the many who speak starry eyed of him mending their broken hearts and forgiving their sins, and to them he is Christ, but she doesn’t know that lofty Messiah, the parable weaving rabbi, the miracle worker, the savior, she knows his quiet laugh and silent understanding. She traipses along with the rest of the rowdy crowd to Jerusalem for the Passover, and every day she clamors forward hoping for a moment to steal with him, to ask him, do you remember the wood comb you carved and slipped into my sleeve on my birthday, and touching my back in the warm river water, my skin electrified under the dampness of my robe, and your eyes darker and warmer than they had ever been before you left in such a hurry? But she never has a chance, there is always some apostle more important taking up his time, and she is no fool, she knows that his time is almost up. And so she stands on the sidelines with her palm leaf, crying out Hosanna as he rides on the colt of a donkey, and she imagines for a split second his eyes meet hers in the crowd . What will his fate be? Days later she will meet him on the way to the place of the skull, dripping blood and carrying the wood of his execution on his strong back. He falls, and she rushes forward like she was carried by the current on the sea and kneels, and unwraps her veil, and says in the voice of her own self as a small girl again, ‘let me.’ She wipes his face and he gazes at her with such intensity in his eyes she can hardly bear it, and whispers her name. For the first time in a long time she feels numb. But later on she will wonder, for the last time, if he looked at her in that tender liminal moment, and thought of the warm river water and the life that could have been  with her, instead of the Bride he bled and hanged for. The swallows sang while he was on the cross, and the holiness was not lost on her. Just as the sanctity of those small moments in Nazareth were never lost for him.

#poetry #poet #my poetry #poets on tumblr #christian #catholic #st veronica #palm sunday #passion week #holy week #bible

[chris-carlton221]

De los creadores de "Sherlock is actually a girl's name", "You wear fine things well" y "A little demoniac miracle of my own", llega: "You can't leave this bookshop"

#sherlock bbc #our flag means death #good omens #good omens 2 #gay little man #send help

[itsyourchoicedevotionals]

Commissioned

“As Jesus was getting into the boat, the man who had been demon-possessed begged to go with Him. Jesus did not let him, but said, “Go home to your own people and tell them how much the Lord has done for you, and how He has had mercy on you.” Mark 5:18-19NIV

The first commissioned evangelist in the Bible— Demoniac, by name, had no desire to witness for Jesus. Like most of us Believers, he wanted to absorb the goodness of God, staying as close to Jesus as possible. After all, he too had an identity change, not being quite sure of what to do.

Consider for a moment Demoniac. Raised in an idol worshiping, pagan part of Israel, he was sent home to proclaim Christ as Lord. The livelihood of these Hellenistic Jews was pigs— (forbidden meat on the Jewish diet), and creating idols for sale. Demoniac couldn’t just go down to Mom’s house and ask how to witness. Every avenue of ministry, based on a short encounter with Christ Jesus had no directives, handbooks, or even Bible. Plus no hometown boys believed in the Torah or prophets— no help there.

Most Christians don’t witness about Jesus because they do not know how. I felt that way for a good portion of my Christian years. Being uncomfortable isn’t easy for any of us.

Lou and I have two daughters, who’ve never met strangers. They can strike up a conversation with anyone, making friends in zero to ten seconds. I stammer around not knowing exactly what to say for openers. Just saying anything outside of comments about the weather is scary. Yes, that’s operating out of fear. Whereas the girls have no fear and speak.

We’re living in times like Demoniac, idol worship is everywhere. Sin’s rampant. People think the Bible is out of style, useless, and mostly untrue or a book of weird stories. We must speak without fear, but in faith.

Jesus gave Demoniac the essence of evangelism— “tell them how much the Lord has done for you, and how He has had mercy on you.” When I took a class on one-on-one-evangelism we learned a few primary things.

***First, we can’t evangelize anyone if we don’t care about them. Praying for a heart of love for the lost— necessity. Realize, we may be the only Jesus each person will ever encounter. Christ loved Demoniac, going out of His way just to keep an appointment set by God. Jesus could’ve left the Hellenistic Jews lopped from Israel’s tree. Instead He went and loved one man to Himself.

***Second, after introducing ourselves an opener for conversation, with the lost is — ‘I sense Holy Spirit is telling me, you need prayer. How can I pray for you?’ (Everyone needs prayer.) Here’s where we’ll be rejected or invited into their world.

***Third, Believe in our hearts— God answers prayers. Then we can offer up to God thanksgiving for the person. Offer up to God a sincere heartfelt prayer for whatever their need is.

***Witnessing— Demoniac led a changed life in front of the people, obviously allowing everyone far and near to know the horrors of bondage versus the glories of freedom given by Christ. Mark 6:53-56 reveals how Demoniac’s neighbors felt when Jesus returned. V54-55 “…people recognized Jesus. They ran throughout that whole region and carried the sick on mats to wherever they heard He was.”

Sometimes people will ask us why we are Believers. Be like Demoniac, telling them what a glorious change occurred through Christ’s salvation in our lives. Witnessing isn’t hard if we’ll love. Do you love the lost in your family? At your workplace? Where you socialize? The rest is easy with Christ… It’s your choice. You choose.

LET’S PRAY: Lord God You know how even illegal it is becoming to witness for you. “Now, Lord, consider their threats and enable Your servants to speak Your word with great boldness,” in the name of Jesus Christ I pray. (Acts4:29NIV(

by Debbie Veilleux Copyright 2023 You have my permission to reblog this devotional for others. Please keep my name with this devotional, as author. Thank you.

#Jesus Christ #lord of lords #word of god #Holy Spirit #God #it's your choice #devotional #commissioned #witness #glorious #changed #idol worship #absorb #thanksgiving #prayer #love #hope #faith

[imapervertedtangledfan]

Leah Sublime

Leah Sublime, Goddess above me! Snake of the slime Alostrael, love me! Our master, the devil Prospers the revel. Tread with your foot My heart til it hurt! Tread on it, put The smear of your dirt On my love, on my shame Scribble your name! Straddle your Beast My Masterful Bitch With the thighs of you greased With the Sweat of your Itch! Spit on me, scarlet Mouth of my harlot! Now from your wide Raw cunt, the abyss, Spend spouting the tide Of your sizzling piss In my mouth; oh my Whore Let it pour, let it pour! You stale like a mare And fart as you stale; Through straggled wet hair You spout like a whale. Splash the manure And piss from the sewer. Down to me quick With your tooth on my lip And your hand on my prick With feverish grip My life as it drinks— How your breath stinks! Your hand, oh unclean Your hand that has wasted Your love, in obscene Black masses, that tasted Your soul, it’s your hand! Feel my prick stand! Your life times from lewd Little girl, to mature Worn whore that has chewed Your own pile of manure. Your hand was the key to— And now your frig me, too! Rub all the much Of your cunt on me, Leah Cunt, let me suck All your glued gonorrhea! Cunt without end! Amen! til you spend! Cunt! you have harboured All dirt and disease In your slimy unbarbered Loose hole, with its cheese And its monthlies, and pox You chewer of cocks! Cunt, you have sucked Up pricks, you squirted Out foetuses, fucked Til bastards you blurted Out into space— Spend on my face! Rub all your gleet away! Envenom the arrow. May your pox eat away Me to the marrow. Cunt you have got me; I love you to rot me! Spend again, lash me! Leah, one spasm Scream to splash me. Slime of the chasm Choke me with spilth Of your sow-belly’s filth. Stab your demoniac Smile to my brain! Soak me in cognac Cunt and cocaine; Sprawl on me! Sit On my mouth, Leah, shit! Shit on me, slut! Creamy the curds That drip from your gut! Greasy the turds! Dribble your dung On the tip of my tongue! Churn on me, Leah! Twist on your thighs! Smear diarrhoea Into my eyes! Splutter out shit From the bottemless pit. Turn to me, chew it With me, Leah, whore! Vomit it, spew it And lick it once more. We can make lust Drunk on disgust. Splay out your gut, Your ass hole, my lover! You buggering slut, I know where to shove her! There she goes, plumb Up the foul Bitch’s bum! Sackful of skin And bone, as I speak I’ll bugger your grin Into a shriek. Bugger you, slut Bugger your gut! Wriggle, you hog! Wrench at the pin! Wrench at it, drag It half out, suck it in! Scream, you hog dirt, you! I want it to hurt you! Beast-Lioness, squirt From your Cocksucker’s hole! Belch out the dirt From your Syphillis soul. Splutter foul words Through your supper of turds! May the Devil our lord, your Soul scribble over With sayings of ordure! Call me your lover! Slave of the gut Of the arse of a slut! Call me your sewer Of spilth and snot Your fart-sniffer, chewer Of the shit in your slot. Call me that as you rave In the rape of your slave. Fuck! Shit! Let me come Alostrael—Fuck! I’ve spent in your bum. Shit! Give me the muck From my whore’s arse, slick Dirt of my prick! Eat it, you sow! I’m your dog, fuck, shit! Swallow it now! Rest for a bit! Satan, you gave A crown to a slave. I am your fate, on Your belly, above you. I swear it by Satan Leah, I love you. I’m going insane Do it again!

#aleister crowley

[talktomeinclexa]

Clarke the Vampire Slayer

By: TalktomeinClexa

Rating: Mature

Warnings: None in this chapter; the usual for BtVS: fight, blood, biting

Status: WIP

Summary: When Clarke, a pre-med student, wakes up one morning with superhuman strength, destiny comes knocking on her door. Sent to Polis to prevent a demon from opening the Hellmouth, she can count on Lexa, a former Watcher, and her new friends to help her dispose of vampires, demons, and other evil creatures. But will she succeed in stopping the Apocalypse?

***

Chapter 2: Welcome To the Hellmouth

The light-blue Toyota Corolla stopped in front of a five-story brick building right out of the ’80s. Or was it the ’70s? Either way, despite its passé style, it looked clean and well maintained, with no tags or broken windows visible. Clarke could only hope that the apartment would be homey and the landlord kind and not too demanding. But then it was supposed to be temporary, and she couldn’t afford to be picky.

With her mother cutting her off financially and forbidding her father from helping her out, the stipend allotted by the Watchers’ Council was her only current source of income. Although a welcome gesture, it wouldn’t cover more than a few hours at the Ritz.

Not that Polis, MD, with its population of roughly 38,500 souls, offered anything resembling a luxurious hotel. Or much in terms of activities. Based on her online research, there were two malls, a few streets bordered with stores, a dozen bars and restaurants, one high school, and one hospital. Why a demon — or anyone else — would choose to move there was beyond her.

Clarke threw a quick look at her belongings piled up in the backseat, hoping that, if the town had a demoniac infestation, it was at least thief-free, and popped out of her car. She was ten minutes early, but one could never make a too-good impression. Especially a jobless 19-year-old dropout student in need of a place while she accomplished her lonely but glorious destiny.

Trying to look more confident than she felt, Clarke approached the entrance of 1630 Revello Drive. Nervous, she smiled with all her teeth at the middle-aged woman blonde woman waiting by the front door.

“Hello, there. Are you Clarke?”

“Yes, ma’am. Clarke Griffin. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” A firm but not overpowering handshake. Up and down twice and let go. Thank you, Mom, for the etiquette lessons.

“You too,” the woman replied with a soft, motherly smile and kind eyes. “I’m Joyce Summers. Welcome to Polis. Did you find easily?”

Polis or that particular building? Because there weren’t many towns around, or that many streets to get lost in. Either way, not wanting to offend her interlocutor, Clarke settled for a diplomatic, “Oh, yes. But I can’t take too much credit. It was all the GPS.”

Satisfied with the chitchat for the time being, Joyce rummaged into her handbag to find a bunch of keys and signaled for Clarke to follow her inside. With one last prayer to the gods that things would work out well, the girl stepped through the doorway.

As the facade suggested, the building was fairly old and deprived of an elevator. At least it was clean and full of charm. According to Joyce, the super, Mr. Harris, took his job seriously and was happy to help with minor repairs.

Clarke placed the information in a corner of her mind along with a reminder to bring the man some pastries when she would introduce herself to him. Although a talented artist in her spare time, her skills with a brush — alas — didn’t extend to the use of a hammer or a screwdriver. Or anything with a blade, which, considering the turn her life had taken, she ought to remedy soon enough.

“Come in,” Joyce said as she unlocked the door of apartment 304 and pulled Clarke out of her reverie. “Please, feel free to have a look around.”

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#clexa #btvs au #slayer clarke #watcher lexa #vampires #clarke the vampire slayer