#somber reaper

[miscellaneoussmp]

An angel of death, a grim reaper, and a man with blood on his hands walk into a room. It is somber. They miss their kids more than you could imagine.

#qsmp #qsmp philza #qsmp badboyhalo #qsmp cellbit #something something death symbolism i think

[monstrouslyobsessed]

Can I request this concept? A male kitsune take possession of the still warm, dead body of a samurai and stole the life of this man, especially the samurai's sweet little wife. Darling suspect nothing and is just happy that her husband had returned to her side alive, after having hunted the fox demon who terrorised the village. Thanks! —anonymous

—a/n: ngl im very meh with this piece but hopefully you enjoyed this one anyway?

—tw / tags: gn reader, gore, violence, implied multiple deaths, burning bodies, details of destruction, body possession, general yandere themes, sfw —featured character(s): fox demon-possessed husband / warrior husband

As you emerged from your crooked shelter, your eyes watered from the stench. The air was thick with the acrid stench of smoke and burned flesh, nauseating your empty stomach. Briefly, you surveyed the devastation that surrounded you, the once-populated village was now reduced to a smoldering wasteland of sorrow and splintered homes. Your chest tightened with pain, sympathy rich for other survivors, at the whimpering sobs in the distance.

As you moved your eyes toward the horizon of the beyond, trudging along the rough dirt trail, your feet sore from the jagged stones and splintered woods beneath them, you couldn't help but feel a sense of despair wash over you at seeing no sign of the person you longed for.

No figure in his iconic red armor forged from the bones of vanquished demons to be seen, leaving only the memory of his crooked smile to keep your heart a touch warm with love and hope.

The ocean of voices flooded your ears and you bit back a weary sigh. More dead to be burned and buried.

As the fathers, sons, and veterans surged forth to relight the bonfire, somberness curbing their movements, the resident monk hummed the funeral hymn and chanted for the spirits to find their way to the afterlife. He was performing the blessings to ensure that no demon would possess the dead to haunt the living. Despite the monk's needed existence in the village, the sound of his aged voice withered your nerves and woke the bitterness in your soul.

The monk's presence was only ever seen during such terrible events, while his faithful apprentice handled blessings for joyous occasions such as weddings and births. To you, the old monk might as well be a reaper wearing human skin, beckoning nothing but tragedies in his wake.

Dry sobbing echoed throughout the stale land. Your throat was parched, tasting ashes. The mothers, daughters, and widows of the fallen followed behind the men, to watch their loved ones burn, shrieking and quietly grieving their losses. Your nails dug into the back of your tightly clasped hands and you prayed you’d not be among them to grieve.

You tried not to shut your eyes too often, as the golden glare of the beast was still imprinted in your mind. Your blood turned cold each time you recalled the demon that had razed your village and slaughtered all those in its path. Its many tails thrashing through homes and stealing lives, it laughed at the bravado of those who thrust their weapons at it.

With one swipe of its claw, it wiped them out. A shiver trembled under your skin as you remembered the cacophony of breaking bones and snapping teeth, then it snapped up a poor soul. The boy's screams and the sound of his body being eaten between rows of white daggers, piercing and shredding his flesh and bones, would forever be imprinted in your memory.

You were there, frozen to the spot, as you watched the demonic being gleefully swallowing the body whole and then licking its chops clean of the remains of its meal.

The beast was larger than any monster you had seen before, towering over the wooden homes of the commoners. The demon's fiery eyes locked onto you and you knew you were its next meal. It grinned, purring a sequence of words that you were relieved you couldn't recall at all. All you heard were your own thundering heartbeats, pounding in your hot ears, as you choked on your breaths at each step it took toward you.

But then, a blur leaped over you and you heard a roar. You recognized the familiar black sword glinting in the flickering light, and your beloved husband swept in and charged toward the creature. Shrieking profanities as he ran, his armor clattering loudly with each step, and slashed his sword, leaving trails of silver behind it as it cleaved through the air.

The demon recoiled, narrowly avoiding losing its head to his sword.

That was the last you saw of your husband, as he chased the terrible fox from the village. It had been over two days since and you had prayed feverishly for your husband's safe return. A cold fear steadily grew in the pit of your stomach, like a thorny vine chasing the sunlight from the dry earth. It was a sickening feeling and you knew no sleep since your husband’s departure.

With a shuddering sigh, you wet your throat and turned your feet to help the grieving rebuild their lives. Having idle hands wouldn't shorten the hours until your husband's return you feverishly prayed for. There was nothing more you could do.

You may be the village's beloved warrior's cherished one, but you were not its spoiled royalty. You still had your duties to callous your hands.

"The lord returned!" A voice cried out, scattering the crows into the sky.

A quiet gasp departed from your lips—and with your heart daring to hope, you slowly pivoted back to where you were.

The forged armor of the layered bones cracked at each step he took, brilliantly red under the sunlight. His smile was as crooked as you remembered it to be, shining through the mask of dirt and dried blood on his face. He lumbered along the dirt path, tattered and exhausted, using his sheathed sword as a cane to support his weight.

You wobbled in disbelief at what you were seeing. His name whispered through your lips, questioning if he was truly the person you were seeing. Another breath of his name escaped, louder, in a choked cry. As he came closer, he jovially spoke your name.

His voice was all you needed to know that you weren't losing your mind.

You broke into a mad dash, shrieking out your husband’s name—and his warm arms encircled your body. Burying your face into his neck, ignoring the thorns poking you from his hard armors, you gripped his waist and wailed, “—! You came back! I—I,”

Sobs replaced your words and all you could do was cling to your idiotic, wonderfully powerful husband. Remembering the musk of your husband through the stinks of sweat and old blood, the soft texture of his hair against your nose, the coarseness of his thinly furred chin on your cheek—how warmly he held you in his tight possessive embrace. Everything of your husband you missed so, so much.

Nuzzling into your hair, your husband consoled you in a crooning voice, “I’m home, my love, I’m home.” He pet a large hand down your scalp, inhaling your scent deeply—to forever imprint it into his mind. Hiding his face in the crook of your shoulder, your husband hid his wicked grin, to hide the sharp fangs from peering out from his mouth.

Finally, your husband thought as the inhumanly gold color seeped into his once dark eyes, you’re mine.

He should keep this human suit a little while longer, to play pretend with his pretty little spouse.

—end

#my writing #monster's writing. 👹 #yandere #yandere imagine #yandere imagines #tetrophilia #exophilia #reader insert #long post #unedited #sfw #concept #gn reader #demon possessed husband #demon possession #body possession

[ploo-toe]

The Crow and the Mourning Dove - Intro

SCP-049 x SCP!Reader

Series tags/warnings(18+): fem!reader, slowburn, (eventual)smut, horror, gore/violence, death, unethical experiments, dark, mentions of past trauma, happy ending

Chapter Summary: “Just one more question for today, and then I'll leave you be.”  Leeward chose his words carefully.  “It says you were found in Marseille.  Why did you leave Paris?”

Notes: I'm so excited to begin this new series!  The song I had in mind in this chapter was Piano Concerto No. 1 in E Minor, Op. 11:1. Allegro Maestoso by Frédéric Chopin and the Warsaw Philharmonic Orchestra.  The referenced “melancholy” part is roughly at 4:40.  Here’s the youtube link for anybody interested in listening:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GWd0O0TlJqM

___________________________________________

Leeward had just finished up his report on the progress made in his most recent interview with SCP-049, or lack thereof, when he had been flagged down by the site director.

"Adam!  I'm glad I caught you.  I need you to take on the series of interviews Dr.Rivera was conducting. Not all of them, just this one; SCP-9528.  It's located down in humanoid containment. "  The director held out a file to him. 

Hesitantly taking it from his hand, Leeward let out a nervous but exasperated chuckle. "I don't really have a choice, do I?"  It was framed as a joke, but his words held truth to them. He was in no place to refuse the directors request and keep his job intact. 

The director let out a cold and unnerving laugh, one that didn't reach his eyes. "Be sure you get on this as soon as possible.  I'm trusting you Dr.Leeward, don't make me regret it."

There was a pit in Leeward's stomach as he watched the director leave. Confrontation was never his strong suit.  With a heavy sign, he began thumbing through the file, walking as he read. 

He was intrigued to say the least, this scp was definitely a curiosity. He had taken a pen out of his coat pocket and began making notes in the file, underlining phrases like "seemingly female humanoid", "152 cm in height", "strange eyes", "musician", "spirit maiden" whatever that means, "reaper", "friendly", "deadly" that's a little contradictory.  Reading the file had certainly left him with more questions than answers. At the bottom were notes written by Dr.Rivera.

-prefers to go by y/n, but will respond to designation

-states to originate from the 15th century

-claims to wear perfume, although never seen putting any on, emitted naturally?

-interview with song moving forward, timestamp changes with recording

-when asked about the ring on its necklace,  answers given were vague, distant, and almost… somber. 

Looking up, the designation on the door stared down at him. He must have been so lost in thought that he hadn't realized he was here already. Straightening his coat, Leeward held his keycard to the scanner, and braced himself as the door slid open. 

The first thing that hit him was the soft lavender scent when he walked in. The second was the music that filled the room, with seemingly no point of origin. If he closed his eyes it was almost like he was at an orchestral performance. But his eyes stayed curiously trained on the figure before him.

In the center of the room stood SCP-9528, arms gently moving through the air as if conducting the room around it.  As the door closed behind him, 9528 moved its head to the side, acknowledging him but not turning around.

“Where's Dr.Rivera?”  The voice that questioned was warm, and if he didn’t know any better he would think it was human.  Luckily he did know better.  

“Dr.Rivera’s starting her maternity leave today, so I’ll be the one working with you for the time being.  My name is Dr.Leeward.”  This answer seemed to satisfy the scp, its head turning forward again to continue its musings.  

Leeward sat at the table to his right, taking out his notes and signaling to the two way window across the room that he was ready and to start recording. He cleared his throat lightly before beginning.

“It says here your name is y/n, correct?” Leeward started with a simple question, choosing to go with the basics to gauge how to best lead the interview.

“That’s correct, although no one’s had the decency to call me that in ages.  The numbers you’ve assigned will suffice as well.”  It spoke with a soft French accent.  Why it hadn’t been noted until now, he was unsure.

“Well y/n, I’d like to ask you some questions; get to know you better.  Is that alright?”  He remembered seeing something in the file about “good days” and “bad days”, so he thought providing some illusion of choice would increase its likelihood to cooperate.

“I suppose.  You seem pleasant enough.”

“Good, now I know that you’ve most likely been asked some of these questions before, but I'd like to start from the beginning for myself.”  Leeward paused before continuing.  “It says in your file that you’re from the 15th century, is it safe to assume that you’re from France?”

9528 nodded “Yes, that’s correct.”

“Where in France specifically?”

“Île de la Cité.  It was fairly populated at the time, even more so now I assume.  I was one of the lucky few who lived there at the time to have a garden.”  9528 began to open up to Leeward, pleased with the topic of conversation.  The music in the room took a more cheery tone to it.  

“You say you had a garden?  What kinds of things did you grow?”

“Oh, vegetables, fruit, spices, a few medicinal herbs, etcetera..”

“Medicinal herbs, could you elaborate on that for me?”

“You see, I always preferred homemade remedies over bought ones.”

“And what did you do for a living?”  Leeward moved on, trying to find something substantial.

“I made music for the townspeople, in the market square by the cathedral.  I always hoped to entertain and lift their spirits.  It was a hard time in Paris back then.  I loved the way the children would dance around without a care in the world.  As if nothing could ever harm them.”

Leeward decided to take a chance.  “It says here that you wear a ring on your necklace.  May I ask why?”

The music in the room turned melancholy, and 9528 stilled.  It paused, as if lost in thought, or perhaps pondering what it should tell the doctor.  Leeward took the chance to listen to its melody. It sounded wistful and saudade.  The more he listened, the more it felt like he was longing for something unknown and far away.  What that meant, he was unsure.  He was brought back to the present when 9528 spoke.

“It was a gift from someone close to me.  I wear it to remember them.”  That was all it seemed willing to divulge.  The music softly paused.  “I'm growing quite tired, Doctor.”

“Just one more question for today, and then I'll leave you be.”  Leeward chose his words carefully.  “It says you were found in Marseille.  Why did you leave Paris?”

The answer it gave sounded thought out, as if only part true.  But it shook the doctor nonetheless.

“The Plague.”

#scp 049 x reader #scp049xreader #scp 049 #scp 049 x scp reader #scp foundation #scp containment breach #the crow and the mourning dove #scp 049 x oc #back in the swing of things #buckle up folks #its giving dark AND spicy #SLOWburn

[dilfwaynes]

NEW GOTHAM | S.K

summary: the vampires successfully burned the world and rebuilding the edges in their hierarchy, gotham included — but selina’s thing for strays remains, just more enhanced.

⚢ pairings; dark!vampire!selina x fem!reader.

✗ warnings; dom!selina x sub!reader, noncon/dubcon, degradation, virgin!reader, choking, fingering, slight praise, selina claiming u as her little slave. NOT PROOFREAD/EDITED.

✎ word count; 2.2k.

gotham coalesced to a mass of utter disaster by the vampires, any ritzy of the city gone and longed with languid, and there was not one thing you could do about it, batman’s dead and so was the rest of your family; but nightwing emblazoned quite well his act of innocence with zero suspicion gained from you all on his below the surface.

you somehow survived, or richard allowed your breathing, far from delighted at his generous grace of kingship — you presume it’s his twisted way of making you suffer, knowing he was the grim reaper of your siblings and bruce, fooled them and betrayed them far worse than any enemy, and there’s nothing you can do about it, or at least knowing selina’s short lease keeps you tight far enough.

abrasive you suppose, but selina onuses herself for you when she’s farthest from being required to do so, and you hope your gratitude for selina beams brightly, maybe her reasoning for clothing, feeding you, guarding you from the despair of gotham and whatever else was some profoundly sense of duty of debt to bruce; you truly don’t know why selina took you in but you’re thankful regardless. you’re jaunty of selina, and in ways you know she retracts the same from the fact of her allowance of you sneaking in her room every night to seep comfort.

any buoyant of such is bleary tonight though, her reaction nulled to hearing your presence entering the living room, the large area purging somber and murk more than usual, and from the raised peaks of your top, colder too. the ambience blatantly indignant, perched perfectly cat-like on the stem in the nook under the window overlooking, her face scowled in anger.

“where’s harley?” you ask quietly and padding towards the nearby wooden table next to selina,   genuinely curious, as well as wanting to spark a conversation, maybe also seeking some attention from her.

her gaze intakes yours with her attention  focusing on you now, features algid and spleen, and for a second you think her brise fire is aimed at you, the mere thought almost has you bawling hot tears with a deep pout. her features softens from your flash of expression, her brows creasing a frown, albeit towards an approach.

“she left us, a stupid dream of escape out of gotham.” selina rolls her eyes and turns back to the darken green outside the glass, the angst of her mien side forge; induce flawed compared to her other acts of facades that it almost infuriated with the weak ink ticking at her nerves to put better effort, until she reminds herself you’re the naïve ever trusting human of hers, probably the only bat that ever trusted her. the thought of her being asinine about harley’s self demise is funny enough to take strength for selina not to laugh, with harley out of the picture you’re in the free ground of her complete taking. sparing a side glance to your reaction, deferring a hiss from the glimpse of excitement and hope in your eyes.

a burning rage engages in her chest, her gums throbbing in an effort of withholding her fangs, seemingly it goes unnoticed by you, probably endeavoring cloud your senses and  surroundings with all sorts of rebellion and hopes to reunite with what remains of the justice league; she couldn’t —wouldn’t— allow you to have any dreams or chance for any of those thoughts and ideas swimming in your head. she’ll break you down and crush any batman form of sense and value in you, hallow you out to be perfect as minutes before, or even better than before.

“why didn’t you tell me? why didn’t she take me with her?” you ramble out frantically, vexation snapping your tone, why wouldn’t selina tell you harley found a way out of gotham? she’s privy to everything you could accomplish if your foot touches outside of the city. pinning on your heel impatiently for a reasoning, facing her and becoming taken aback at selina’s anger pointed at you, her jaw strained and lips stretched in a snarl. you  swallow some and shake your head, in another state of mind you would probably be crying from selina staring at you with her expression but with any chance of being able to leave gotham has your full heed.” if i leave now i can maybe catch up to her.”

“no!” you stumble back in haggard afeard steps, selina’s hand gearing your head towards her now exposed fangs wide in a hissing, her eyes bright with scarlet instead of green, torrid acid strips your throat to your stomach; that quite literally feels like it dropped to the stone floor with your heart rapidly beating to the point for a good solid second you think it’s actually out of your chest with the intense drubbing. shock startles under all the nerves connected within, fear and a jolt of seething betrayal following suit. selina’s features still clinched with her fangs retracing barely some, her grip remaining sturdy.”greedy little brat, i clothe you; i feed you and you wanna leave me?”

“get the fuck off me!” you scream as your thrusts of your arms glosses-over, your attempt evidently occurred to her already at her lack of faze other than brief annoyance.”i fucking hate you, you’re one of them, a filthy leech.”

flaming skin presses against yours, strangling a choked high pitched whine with your head coming into contact towards the desk, selina fully towering over you with your back spread across the hard oak; the sharp of her slight abjured fangs now gleaning in full effort of their beauty. throwing your head to the side, screwing your eyes closed to escape your view, selina being a vampire slamming a jack hammer into the same wound of the realization of dick’s true self, maybe even more with your newly blossomed feelings since she’d taken you in.

her lips gliding back into a growl,”you’re mine honey, my darling human slave,” you keep your eye sight closed, wishing to close off her words as well, especially with the unwanted aroused pulling at your stomach. her nostrils twitch some before inhaling deeply, a smirk calming down the storm on her face”does my little bat likes being addressed as my slave?.”

you draw out a whine that quickly results into a hitch, selina’s nails engraving into your flesh as you feel a butterfly’s jitter against your senses, her lips barely brushing yours has you letting out a meekly moan unconsciously.

“i can smell you little bat, begging to be devoured extra tonight,” you opted still with silence, ignoring her words and the waving flood of embarrassment of unknown, your mind flashing of each time you were titillate by her throughout the months.”i’ll fuck you tonight, finally make you a woman, something bruce never had the chance to do..” you squeezed your already closed eyes, your legs following along as far as they can with selina being slot between them, her words painfully having an effect as she takes another deep inhale.

“open your eyes,” her demand that quickly gets dismissed from your lack of operating and sealing your eyes shut, bursting a gasp when selina’s hand coaxing one out of you, grasping your throat to it feels like your windpipe is crushing on itself, with you clawing at her hands serving no justice.”open your eyes sweetheart.”

unable to breathe you fly open your eyes and mewt her darken green ones, her lips craving into a smirk again, grip lighting but leaving her hand in place without the strength.” you look so darling like this,” she coo’s gently, composure smooth without any wrinkles from past seconds of behavior before, her fingers nimbly jutting downwards to the exposed opening of your sundress, ghosting along the lace lining of your panties. pulling and letting them snap back to your hips with a sting, exhaling a breathy whine out of you, enduring any sense stored in you from whatever twisted arousal you’re feeling.”stop.” you faintly whisper that goes undermined.

“if only bruce could see you now, sprawled out so pretty for me,” her words weighting down your guilt evermore, the heat from the confusing swirl of anger and lust directed at selina, she seems perfectly occupied with other matters with her hand gripping inch and inch your thigh under your dress, this time roughly pulling down your panties that you’re sure you heard a ripple, until you’re confirmed so when shreds of the material comes in your eyesight.”all mine.” she purrs happily in a possessively manner, nuzzling her nose up and down across the base of your throat.

her thumb pressing down on your clit while  ravishing in your meek response of delight or complaint, you, yourself couldn’t separate the borderlines, she assumes it’s the first with your pitched whine when her lips attach in the dip of your  shoulder blade and neck and kissing along, suddenly sinking her fingers inside you and earning a high breathy moan out of you with a jarring of your back going upwards, feeling her lips  stretching into a smirk against your skin. open palm brushing your nerves as she set a steady trusting, clear that she’s not merciful in the path with her rhythm harsh and no warm-up, tears burning the back of your eyelids from the rush ample stretch of selina’s digits, the pain twisting itself in pleasure.

the pain subsiding some and the pleasure of selina rolling her fingers inside you taking over, biting your lip to contain any noise and give selina the satisfaction of letting her know she’s fucking you good, her fingers edging to the tip of your g-spot as she splits you open so good, her lips skimming your neck delicately that it reminds you of your selina, almost, blaring a gasp with sudden fangs barring into your skin; crying out in a blend of an intense added pleasure from selina’s fire sunk in, a weird feeling sense of burning euphoria, selina continuing to pump inside you roughly.

your legs shaking and only feeling selina to the point of being blind to anything else but her, your eyes beginning to roll to the back of your head and becoming faint with the blood selina is withdrawing out of your system, pulsating every jagged trust of selina’s. a white-hot flash comprehending your sense of awareness entirely, a strange coil-ready feeling emerging at the bottom of your stomach, selina tugging your clit forcibly gives you enough of a push towards your climbmax and has you crying out and seeing dotted jetted stars.

she softens her pace to help ride out your orgasm and releasing her fangs from your neck. “i wonder if you taste as good in other areas,” she questions teasingly and pulling out her fingers, staring at you while putting her fingers in her mouth, stopping midway abruptly,”but i do prefer to taste from the source.”

#selina kyle imagines #selina kyle x reader #selina kyle smut #catwoman imagines #catwoman smut #catwoman x reader #wlw imagines #wlw smut #wlw headcanons #selina kyle #catwoman #dc vs vampires

[blues824]

May I request the obey me brothers with an undertaker like mc from black bulter? Who is an reaper like Thirteen also an 100+ years old with an large weapon & sleeps in an coffin, can pull out memory in an shape of a something (I ended up forgetting)

Also don't stress yourself out too much and remember to take care of yourself!

If Undertaker ever asked me to marry him, y’all would never see me again. He’s just so beautiful, and happy, and I’m in love with this man.

ANYWAYS, I’ve been working on finding a balance between schoolwork and hobbies, and I think I found a middle ground. Take care of yourself, too!

Lucifer

You seem rather joyful for such a somber occupation. Since you couldn’t exactly run a funeral parlor in Hell, you would travel to the Human World whenever necessary. He understands that the majority of your fascination with the dead is that you can obtain information much more easily.

Once, Diavolo and Lucifer were working on finding why demons all over have been going missing, and they tried to pay you with actual money. You spat out your refusal and told them you would only give them what they needed if they made you laugh. The latter thought that this was absolutely ridiculous, but the former gladly told a few jokes.

One time, Lucifer needed to talk to you about something when he saw you experimenting on the corpses in the parlor. One of them was actually moving around, and he was concerned. You just giggled and told him that you wanted to see if you could bring them back to life. Unfortunately, you still lacked the ability to form a new soul, so it was basically just a zombie. Lucifer had never been so worried.

You and Thirteen seem to get along well. He’s glad that you are getting along with other exchange students, but could you please talk about something other than the funniest “times you went to harvest souls? It is not a proper dinner conversation. And it is certainly very rude to show off your old scythe at the table as well, Y/N!

Mammon

He’s honestly vibing with you on the happy part. However, we all know how much of a scaredy cat is. You owning a funeral parlor makes him a tad terrified. He doesn’t do well with dead bodies, especially if they’re real. 

He remembers one time where he went to you for information about one of the witches he made a deal with. You see, she had died, and she was sent to your funeral parlor. She was part of a coven that Mammon was involved with, so he needed to see where they are now. However, you weren’t about to give information out for free. You told him the price, and he thought you were being ridiculous as well. However, he paid, you laughed, and you gave him the info he needed.

Another time, Mammon came by to drop off some stuff for you when he noticed you were talking to someone. He creaked open the door and saw what looked like a corpse standing up. He slowly walked backwards, but then one of the floorboards creaked. You opened the door fully and caught him, dragging him to the room to tell him about your experiments. He was genuinely terrified. You told him that the bodies were the equivalent to zombies since they didn’t have a soul.

He’s glad that you’re making friends, Y/N. But could it be anyone other than Thirteen? He’s seen you both in action because she invited you to do one more soul reaping. You, loving to partake in old hobbies, gladly accepted. He’s seen you take the film of the soul you took. Is this what happened to everyone?

Leviathan

You remind him of the Old Reaper from “My parents have perished in a terrible fire, and to seek revenge I made a deal with my demon butler to help”. It was a good anime, too bad they haven’t made a new season.

He has never seen you in your domain, so he can only rely on his brothers’ words. He’s heard of your strange bargain, info for a joke. However, he will agree that it’s better and more reliable than paying actual money for it. Plus, you see people getting back-stabbed for money, so it’s not as upsetting to tell a joke to get you to laugh.

He’s also heard from his brothers of your… experiments. The countless times they’ve heard you talking to a corpse as though it were alive, until they heard footsteps that weren’t yours. You would refer to them as your ‘dolls’, which is even more unsettling. 

He definitely gets jealous whenever you say that you have plans with Thirteen when he asks you to hang out. He’s the Avatar of Envy, after all. However, you with your scythe is his new terrifying nightmare. You and Thirteen with your scythes is even scarier (extra points if you have your cloak).

Satan

He’d say your too joyful for your job, but to be fair he does enjoy a good murder mystery story. He wouldn’t be concerned about you and your profession. Everyone has hobbies, after all. He would be concerned about how you talk about it so eccentrically. 

Your way of an information exchange is rather unusual for someone who remains on Earth. Usually, humans want money in exchange. However, when Satan visited to gain info on something, you told him your price. He doesn’t have a problem with it, but it’s odd.

Another time, he went to drop off some lunch for you when he saw you and two bodies walking around. He would have dropped the food if one of the bodies didn’t catch it before it hit the ground. You are more than glad to explain your experiments and the inability to create a soul that you have.

I think he’s on pretty good terms with Thirteen. The two don’t seem to have a problem in the game. He would like to accompany the both of you as you help her harvest souls. Mans is probably shocked between the differences of technique, since you view the film of the life and Thirteen just harvests the soul.

Asmodeus

He’s glad that you find joy in your job! You don’t see a lot of that. Plus, there is a macabre sense of beauty with the dead, and a lot of classic novelists as well as painters would agree. I mean, look at him! On Earth, he’d be described as something undead and supernatural.

I’d say that he likes your way of exchanging information. He’s used to having to pay money to gain information about witches, but when one went to your funeral parlor for something and Asmo went by to gain info on said witch, all he had to do was tell a joke. He appreciated the easy atmosphere you put on in such a grim place of business.

However, every positive thought he had about you disappeared when he visited and he heard you talking to someone in the next room. He called to you and opened the door, where he saw a corpse walking around and you sat there in deep thought. Upon discovering that he was there, you smiled and told him what was going on. He was disgusted at the sight, to say the least.

It doesn’t specify, but I think he’s also on good terms with Thirteen? He’s glad that you both bond over past experiences of being Reapers. Don’t tell Thirteen, but your version of reaping a soul is much different and more appealing than hers. The film of their life made him tear up.

Beelzebub

He’s glad that someone is optimistic around here. It’s not everyday you see someone so happy to be in Hell, literally. To be fair, you do get to visit your funeral parlor whenever a body arrives, but for the most part you reside in the Devildom.

He also enjoys your way of exchanging information. You prefer laughing rather than somber situations, so it only makes sense that you’d rather take jokes rather than actual money. The trick is to tell a joke good enough to get you to laugh.

However, it was one day where he came to take you to eat somewhere in the Human World. It was a rather normal day, until he saw you ‘resurrecting’ a corpse. He suddenly felt sick, as though the snacks he ate on the way were coming back to haunt him. You then saw him, ran and gave him a hug, and explained that you were trying to make your dolls come back to life. You further told him that since you couldn’t create a soul, they were basically just animated bodies. He threw up.

He’s kind of scared whenever you and Thirteen go out with each other. While it’s typically for business, you do get happily nostalgic about your time as an official reaper. Thirteen stands in the back just hyping you up, though. The both of you paired together are an unstoppable force. He’s probably still traumatized by her because of the whole ordeal with her causing his life candle to burn quickly.

Belphegor

No one has the right to be this happy, Y/N. Not even on a billion cups of coffee with a trillion shots of espresso. How are you so happy-go-lucky? And especially with a job such as yours. You’re surrounded with death and misery.

He finds your way of exchanging information rather annoying. Like, can’t he just pay you and get it over with? But nOoOo, you have to do something unique to make yourself stand out. Wait… it’s not that? It’s because you love to laugh and you think it takes tension away from the situation? Now he feels like shit. 

He remembers once where you had to visit your parlor because someone had arrived and he had to accompany you so that you were carrying out your promise of no nonsense. He walked into your parlor exhausted from the day, but gets suspicious when he hears your sinister giggling. He peaked in and saw one of the corpses in the room walking around. He was wide awake for a few weeks after that.

I feel like he also gets jealous whenever you go hang out with Thirteen. Like, how dare you choose reaping souls with her rather than cuddling with him? Another part is that both you and Thirteen are much more powerful than he is, so he gets that small sense of inferiority and powerlessness. He doesn’t like it at all.

#obey me x reader #obey me! #obey me shall we date #obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me lucifer x reader #lucifer x reader #lucifer #obey me mammon x reader #obey me mammon #mammon x reader #mammon #obey me levi x reader #obey me leviathan x reader #leviathan x reader #leviathan #obey me leviathan #obey me satan x reader #obey me satan #satan x reader #satan #obey me asmo x reader #asmodeus #obey me asmodeus #asmodeus x reader #obey me beel x reader #obey me beelzebub #beelzebub x reader #beelzebub #obey me belphie

[yeyinde]

HELLO! In 2021, I read your ao3 work, "baby, (dont) fear the reaper" for the first time. For 3 years since, i have been haunted. Occasionally i would go back and read your work front to back. Tbh, i didnt know much about dbd lore at the time. i read it bcs it has some vibes that im into, and boy oh boy, those vibes do not disappoint! Halfway through i realized that if your work was a novel, i would buy it 100%, no matter the cost. I fell in love with how the reader was portrayed, how such a somber and melancholic personality can be twisted into such a calculating, patient, and analytical character. Danny too, how the hell did you capture such a narcissist is beyond me. Reader's descend into revenge felt normal, a natural progression, like how a river flows into the sea. Though i never expected Reader to start hunting Danny back, i thought Reader will always be the prey, never the predator. Though, there are tells, from how the reader feels a bit detached (?) from their childhood, carrying heart scars from a toxic childhood friend, how Reader continues their friendship with the aforementioned toxic childhood best friend (a love for rebels, maybe? Or is it a want for the dark resulting in admiration, and then, love?) despite the harm it inflicts. (That flashback chapter to Reader's childhood will always be one of my favorite chapters!) Whatever it is, Danny is the nail in the coffin, pushing Reader into the cliff to freefall into madness. Danny is the real head scratcher, though. Even though there are whole chapters dedicated to Dannys's POV, i still cant understand why Danny is so enamored with Reader. Yes, Reader gets him in a way no one can, but what is it with Reader being a past victim of a homicide that attracts Danny so hard? He even lets his guard down around Reader-he invites her to his motel for god's sake! Albeit to craft alibi, of course, but still. There's a whole chapter on it, where Danny finds out about Reader's case, but i still cant wrap my head around it. As the author, would you mind delving into Danny's head again to explain why Reader has such a chokehold on Danny? (no pressure, of couse!)

-also sorry for bad English, love you! <3

i love talking about bdfr! it's my baby!! i still have the original Google Doc with all the chapters, the playlist, and the outline because it was one of those things i could never really part with. and i can't believe you've enjoyed it so much!!! i'm so thankful for that because this was really a labour of love. i left pieces of myself in it that i don't think i can ever get back, and i genuinely don't think i could ever write anything like it again. it was my lightning-in-a-bottle moment, for sure. and ahhhhhhhh, 2021??? has it really been that long?? it feels like it was only a few months ago that i was sitting in my car eating a lobster roll and writing out the "Home Depot" opener on my phone lmao

but Danny's obsession with their case stems largely from his own narcissism, really. it's also his eventual downfall. Danny (and most, if not all, of the Ghostface Killers) is canonically obsessed with horror. a very morbid fanboy. so him meeting a surviving victim of one spurns his curiosity but also, his competitiveness. Danny is the showstopper. everything he does is very theatrical. he can't help the nagging sense of inferiority whenever someone else comes along. so he's caught in a loop of comparing himself to this other person, and also angry that you let yourself get caught by someone so subpar.

eventually, Danny comes to the conclusion that you're supposed to be his Final Girl, but someone else got to you first. and it's the anger, the jealousy, the obsession that really kicks everything into motion between them. and the reason Danny comes to this conclusion is a bit of a misunderstanding in three parts. Cat and Mouse (killer versus spunky Everyman Journalist); the Perfect Victim (Final Girl Blueprint); and then Two Sides of the Same Coin (or: there was always supposed to be two Ghostface killers, right?). that's the outline i stuck to when writing their specific arc.

this got super long so i put my notes on all three arcs Danny goes through under the cut. i mapped this story out pretty meticulously, so i hope my initial outline sheds some light on the insanity that is Danny lmao

Cat and Mouse is just a manifestation of Danny's boredom. at this point in his life, he's pretty stagnant. this arc would be Halloween H20 for him. the Florida Murders haven't happened yet, but he's been all over the US and no one has come close to catching him. Jed is still a persona he can use without worry of being caught.

and then you come along, and you're immediately wary of Jed. this hasn't happened much for him. he's able to read people with a shocking amount of ease and knows how to tune himself to their personality. either being overly friendly (Leslie and Jed), flirtatious (Gemma and Jed), competitive (Colton and Jed), or extremely competent (Jonah and Jed), but you're the outlier. the one he can't read. he tunes himself into the Old You, but it obviously doesn't work anymore because that version of you is gone. he misreads you. this strikes a nerve. it's never happened before.

it's exacerbated by your wariness of Jed, too. the way you go out of your way to avoid him, despite how much he adjusts his supposedly infallible personality to match you, it never seems to work. you're always on edge. you never trust him.

and then you make the comment (to his face, no less) about him being a narcissist. and this shouldn't be as huge of a moment as it is. Danny's been doing this for a long time, and it's kinda crazy to assume no one has clocked his Ghostface persona. but it's the fact that you say this so openly. and given everything that's happened to you, it heightens the stakes for him. for the first time in a long time, Danny feels like he could (potentially) be cornered. he also feels seen. and for a narcissistic serial killer who craves attention and admiration and fear (as noted in his POV chap., song choices), this is straight dopamine for him. it's everything.

so, he tosses you into the role of his foil. the one who will chase him to the very brink. but he doesn't anticipate the fact that you'd almost willfully ignore the warning signs right in front of you just to remain inside this bracket of normalcy you're still desperately clinging to (which is your own narrative downfall). he goes out of his way to make you catch onto him, almost angry that you don't.

it then kicks off the second part. he starts to consider you HIS Final Girl. but there's a problem. you're not his. you'll never be his. for such an unrepentant narcissist, this is almost too much. he's bordering on the edge of utter fury and an almost noxious jealousy. he wants to be your demise so badly that it bleeds into just pure, unfettered want.

and then the final part of their story is Twisted Soulmates. it kinda struck me as odd that every single Scream film had TWO Ghostfaces. it's kind of the blueprint. but DBD does not. they just had Danny. so i started thinking about what would happen if there were always supposed to be two, and added elements of Danny's loneliness. he wants, desperately, to share his work with someone who understands but this sort of thing would never appeal to the general public that's he trapped inside. he also risks getting caught. it can never happen.

until you. your anger at the man who did this to you, who ruined your life, is as potent as his desire to kill. he can see it in you. this darkness. this shifting, ugly rage brimming just below the surface. it makes his hackles rise because you could be the perfect partner.

it's a big part of why he spends so much time trying to "show off." why he gets so jealous when you focus your attention on Michael Myers instead of him. and why he feels the need to get rid of Leslie. she's a moral obstacle in your way.

he wants your attention now. he wants your everything, but there are parts of you that he'll never have, and this loss is too great to ever let your relationship work in the "real" world. but in all honesty, he's fine with being your eventual demise if you decide not to go with him. being your FINAL killer is something he fantasises about a lot. he wants to kill you from the moment he sees your wariness over Jed to the very end when he makes you chase him all the way to Utah.

but then the Entity intervenes, and suddenly Danny has a way to have everything he wants. your death (over and over and over again), and you with him (forever, always, eternity). but his narcissism does not let him see the killer you're shaping into. and when you end up turning the plot on him, using your "friend" as bait to lure him in, Danny knows he's gravely misunderstood you. in fact, he's never really known the real you at all.

this, of course, just spurns the obsessiveness in him further, making it very unlikely that he'll ever let you go.

#and please don't feel the need to apologise at all!!! writing in a language that isn't your mother tongue can be extremely difficult esp Eng #and i wouldn't have known if you hadn't mentioned it!! #your English is perfect (and much better than mine) 🖤 #also sorry this got sooo long!!!!! #i have all these extra notes that i could never really anywhere so the moment someone is like “tell me BTS about bdftr” #the lore just comes out in a flood

[sheplayswithlifee]

Dallas, feeling unwell, truncated their visit to the community center. Upon returning home, Atreus and his daughters embraced the solace of a nap. Thoughts lingered on tending to Dallas once she awoke—perhaps preparing a comforting bowl of soup or a simpler choice like cereal or maybe she needs to go back to her mother’s, Atreus thought as he dozed off.

The deafening roar of an explosion echoed through the house, a sudden rupture that jolted Atreus from his thoughts. Racing downstairs, he was met with a chaotic scene as flames engulfed the stove, threatening to devour everything in their path. Panic set in as he urgently instructed those present to call the fire department.

Amid the chaos, Dallas, seemingly oblivious to the danger, ventured into the inferno. It was left to Melodi, the unexpected hero of the moment, to extinguish the flames and avert further catastrophe. However, despite the urgency, the fire department failed to materialize.

Instead, an ominous figure emerged – the Grim Reaper. Unmoved by Atreus' plea to spare Dallas, the Reaper carried out his somber duty. In the aftermath, Baylee, fueled by fury and concern, swiftly arrived to retrieve her other two children. The resentment simmered as she held Atreus responsible for the unfortunate events that unfolded, leaving a lingering tension in the air.

#Things Are Happening #The Sims 4 #TS4 #TS4 Gameplay #The Sims 4 Story #TS4 Story #BlackSimmer #Black Simmer #Atreus Weasley #Gen4 #Melodi Gant #Symphoni Gant #Gen5

[rosygaze]

rings and promises

pairing: vampire!eddie munson x female!reader

synopsis: in march of ‘86, you lost the love of your life to the upside down. when you have to go back a year later, you find out he might not truly be lost. 

warnings: vampire!eddie, angst, major character death, guns, the upside down, talks of marriage, this is a sad one y’all but it has a happy ending

word count: 6.3k+

masterlist

gif by @yellenabelova​

The sunset glow seeped through the windows of the RV, casting everything in a warm, orange haze. The motorhome shook and rumbled as Steve drove back into Hawkins. The reality of what you were about to do settled in and everyone sat in somber silence as if the Grim Reaper himself was looming over your shoulders.

Max, Lucas, Erica, and yourself all held metal lanterns that were going to help you track that bastard, Vecna, while the rest of the group was decked out in battle gear. Complete with spears, shields, axes, and guns. 

It was a crazy idea. When the plan was laid out, a part of you wanted to run and hide but you knew you were the only chance Hawkins would have of surviving this psychopath. Everyone had their part to play and you were supposed to stick to it. If everything went right, all of you would make it out alive and put an end to this horrible nightmare. Nancy was so confident about the plan but you couldn’t ignore the weird feeling in your gut. 

Steve announced that you were about ten minutes away from the Creel house and your fingers fidgeted around the metal handle. Breaths quick and heart pounding, you were terrified. You closed your eyes and tried to calm yourself down. 

A cold sensation on the back of your hand made you jump and open your eyes. You looked down and saw the ringed hand curl around yours. You turned your hand and entwined your fingers together, slipping into each other with ease from years of practice. Glancing up, you saw your boyfriend’s worried eyes peering down at you. 

“You okay?” Eddie Munson asked. His question almost made you laugh. If anything, you should be checking in on him. This week was horrible for him. Being accused of murder, hiding from the cops, and now getting ready to fight an evil wizard. Yet, here Eddie was, ever the gentleman and checking in on you. 

“I’m okay.” You said quietly. He squeezed your hand tight. 

“After we kill this son of a bitch, what if we go on a trip together? Just the two of us. We’ll take my van and go somewhere nice for the rest of spring break.” Eddie proposed. Even with everything going on, he was able to pull that charming smile that attracted you to him in the first place. 

“That would be nice.” You fiddled with the ring on his index finger. “We’ll make a new mix for it and everything.” 

“We’ll call it ‘The Lovers’ Guide to the Open Road’.” Eddie put his free hand out in the air as if he were showing you the eighth wonder of the world. You giggled. 

“That’s so cheesy.”

“Maybe but it did make you laugh, though.” He smirked down at you. Even with his attempts to distract you, you couldn’t help the nerves. Eddie must’ve seen the change in your expression so he furrowed his brows. “Tell me what’s on your mind, pretty girl.” 

You bit your lip, hesitating for a second. “Why do I have a horrible feeling about all this, Eds?” Voice only a whisper so that the others couldn’t hear you.  

“We’re gonna be fine, sweetheart. We’re gonna kick Vecna’s ass and we’re gonna win, just like my campaign. Trust me.” Eddie moved his arm around you, taking your joined hands with him, and pulled you close to him. You leaned your head on his shoulder, enjoying the little bit of peace he gave you just with his proximity. 

“How are you so calm right now?” 

“Oh, I��m not. I’m freaking out inside.” You laughed at his honesty. 

“I’m scared.” You confessed. 

“Me too but we’re gonna get through this. I know it.” Eddie rubbed your arm comfortingly and kissed the top of your head, lips lingering and eyes closing. He kept his lips pressed against your head. Your presence was keeping him calm too. 

“I wish I could go with you. See your concert.” Eddie’s part of the plan was insane. Summoning demobats with a guitar solo? Not once had you ever thought that you would hear those words strung together in one sentence. You’d kill to see that in person. 

“Don’t worry. I’ll recreate it for you after.” You hummed and continued to play with his rings. The two of you stayed in the same position until Steve pulled up in front of the Creel house. The kids stood up from their seats. Nancy and Robin came up to hug Max while Dustin and Lucas shook hands. You knew you had to go but you didn’t wanna leave Eddie. 

“Is it too late for me to change teams?” You asked. 

“I think so.” He sighed and removed his arm from you so he could help pull you up. “We’ve got this.”

You nodded. “Be careful in there. You come back to me, okay?”

“I will. I promise.” Eddie took in your features, committing them to memory before he pulled off one of his rings and grasped your left hand. He slipped the metal band on your ring finger. You gave him a questioning look. “For after?”

He didn’t need to say anything else. You knew exactly what he meant by this. A little courthouse ceremony with just your friends. The domestic life in a small apartment outside of this godforsaken town. Tears sprung to your eyes at the idea of your life together and Eddie cupped your cheeks. He made you look at him, into those deep brown eyes of his that made you fall in love every time. You nodded, enthusiastically. “I love you, Eds.” Your throat was tight.

“I love you. So much.” He breathed and kissed you deeply, pouring all his love for you into it. Eddie held back his tears. He let himself indulge for a couple more seconds before he pulled away. You pressed your forehead against his. Then you heard Max call your name. Turning, you saw the girl’s grave expression. 

“Time to go.” She said. You gave her a curt nod before turning back to Eddie. 

“I’ll see you later, okay?” Eddie told you and you nodded in response, not trusting your voice to speak. He pressed one last kiss to your forehead. Hands still joined together, you turned to climb out of the RV. Eddie only let go of you at the very last second. You took one last look at all your friends and gave a sad smile to your boyfriend before you shut the metal door. 

Beep. 

Beep.

Beep. 

The steady sounds from Max’s heart monitor filled the small, sterile room. Lucas was camped out on the chair right beside her bed while you and Erica sat on the bench by the window. She leaned her head on your shoulder and napped quietly. All three of you were exhausted by the events of the previous night. 

The plan had gone to shit. 

It started well enough. Vecna had put Max under his spell and it was time to move. You and Erica gave Nancy, Steve, and Robin the signal to go to the next phase. You swore you could even hear the strums of Eddie’s guitar in the distance. Then out of nowhere, Jason’s car came barreling down the street and everything got messed up. 

One of the stupid jocks had attacked you and Erica while Jason went into the house to confront Lucas. “That was for Eddie.” You said when you finally managed to knock the jock out with a hard punch to the face. The two of you ran to the house only to find the door locked. Inside, you could hear Lucas calling for Max and panic overcame your body. 

“On the count of three, we’ll run and push against the door, okay?” You stepped back a couple of feet to give you a running start. Erica followed your lead. “One, two, three!”

The two of you ran as fast as you could and used your shoulders to push against the door. Luckily, it swung open with the force of both your bodies against it. The sight that greeted you was the stuff of nightmares. Max’s broken body lay in Lucas’ arms. Her limbs were bent in unnatural angles. In the blue light of the lanterns, you could see the blood dripping from her eyes. You were frozen in your spot. She looked dead.

“Help!” Lucas cried out. That snapped you out of your shock. You snapped out of it and reached around for the walkie-talkie you wore around your body, trying different channels to see if anybody could come to your rescue. 

Then the ground shook. You pulled Erica close and dragged the two of you under the door frame as you watched the ground open. When the shaking stopped, you helped Lucas carry Max out of the house. Jason’s car was still in the driveway and in the panic, he’d left the keys in the ignition. Carefully, you set Max in the backseat and Lucas held her tight. She was alive but barely. You had to move. Once everyone was strapped in, you drove to the hospital, ignoring how your once quiet hometown was now up in flames. 

After a whole night of surgery, the doctors told you it was a miracle that Max survived. Unfortunately, she had fallen into a coma and they weren’t sure when or if she was going to wake up. When they wheeled Max in, you had to hold back from crying when you saw how frail she looked. Guilt racked your body. If only you’d stayed with her and Lucas, maybe you could’ve helped him fight off Jason. Maybe you could’ve stopped him from stepping on her walkman. Maybe you could’ve stopped this. 

The emotions were bubbling in your chest again, overwhelming you. The only thing grounding you was being able to feel Eddie’s ring on your hand. Your thoughts were cut off by a knock on the door. Carefully, you slipped from under Erica’s head and made sure to lay her sideways on the bench. You opened the door and gasped when you saw Dustin, Steve, Nancy, and Robin. Immediately, you pulled all of them into a big group hug. 

“Are you guys okay?” You asked but didn’t get a response. They looked behind you and saw Max in her bed. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t save her.” 

“It’s not your fault.” Robin put a hand on your shoulder. Lucas stood up from Max’s side and hugged them as well. 

“We hurt Vecna pretty good but then his body suddenly disappeared. We don’t know where he went.” Steve said, patting Lucas’ back. 

You nodded then realized something was wrong. A person was missing, your person. Your long-haired boyfriend was nowhere to be seen. Sparing a glance at your friends, you saw that they all had melancholic expressions as they looked at you. That horrible gut feeling from the RV was back.

“W-where’s Eddie?” You stuttered. You watched Steve, Nancy, Robin, and Dustin look at each other, mainly focusing on the youngest of the quartet. There was something off about Dustin. His eyes were red-rimmed and he had a deep frown on his face which was unusual. “Dustin?” 

At your call, he looked at you with watery eyes. He opened his mouth to say something but choked up and the tears fell down his face. Your stomach lurched. There was a ringing in your ears and you barely registered Nancy and Steve trying to get you to take a seat but you shrugged them off. 

“No! Tell me what happened! Where is Eddie?” The volume of your voice woke up Erica and made Dustin flinch. 

“T-the demobats. They were everywhere and they got into the trailer.” Dustin started. “Eddie… He stayed back to distract them. I begged him to come back through the gate but he wouldn’t listen. There were just so many and he…” Dustin closed his eyes. Steve grasped his shoulder for support. Please. Please don’t say it. You thought. “He didn’t make it.” 

An unbearable ache was building in your chest. Your jaw dropped and you heaved, feeling like you were about to throw up. This can’t be happening. It can’t. Eddie was going to come in here any second and gather you in a hug like he always did. He had to.

“He could’ve easily climbed out with me. He could’ve saved himself but he chose to fight. He saved me. He saved us.” Dustin could barely get the words out. The ring on your finger felt like it was burning. Rough fabric brushed against your hands and Eddie’s denim vest came into view. You gripped it tightly with shaking hands. The last of your resilience crumbled and you burst out into sobs. “He wanted me to let you know that he’s sorry and that he loves you. Eddie loved you so much. And I’m so, so sorry that I couldn’t help him.” 

Dustin’s voice finally cracked and he turned to cry into Steve’s shoulder. For a few moments, the only thing you could hear in the room was Dustin’s crying and Max’s machine. 

“He was supposed to graduate in a couple of months.” You spoke up finally, clutching the vest to you. Nancy was rubbing your arm in an attempt to comfort you. She whispered words of consolation to you. “W-we were gonna go on a trip after this. We had plans! Nance, we had plans.” 

Only then did they notice the ring on your finger. Eddie’s promise to you of a future together. Their hearts broke. “I’m sorry. It’s going to be okay. Just let it out.” Nancy told you. 

“He promised.”  You sounded broken. Defeated. “He promised me that he’d come back.”

Your knees buckled, finally giving out under you. Panicked hands grabbed at you and softened your fall. You could barely breathe and you could taste your salty tears. Then there were hands on your shoulders. Looking up, you saw that Dustin had kneeled in front of you, equally broken. Eddie meant so much to the two of you. You both paused for a second then hugged each other tightly and cried together. 

Eventually, the rest of your friends enveloped the two of you in a hug. The echoes of your heartbroken wailing were going to haunt them for the rest of their lives. 

Hawkins, Indiana had become hell on Earth. 

The Upside Down began seeping into the real world shortly after the earthquake. Spores floated through the once fresh air of your hometown and the military evacuated what was left of the town to the next city over. There they expected you to just keep on living as if nothing ever happened.

You tried to do that, to move on. It’s what Eddie would’ve wanted. But how could you when he haunted your mind every single day? 

A year after the earthquakes, a knock came on your door and you knew something was up. Your friends stood on the other side of the door which wasn’t unusual since they often checked on you. You thought they didn’t want a repeat of what happened to Max. What tripped you off was the serious expressions that mirrored the ones they had that fateful day in March of ‘86. 

They told you they had a plan to end all of this once and for all. It was another insane plan but at this point, you learned that weird shit was gonna happen for the rest of your life. Maybe if you joined them, you could stop them from happening. So you agreed. 

You found yourself in between Nancy and Robin in the big van that Chief Hopper was driving back into Hawkins. The familiarity of this situation was making your body shake with fear. At least the last time you were in a car that was hurtling towards possible death, you had Eddie by your side. You closed your eyes when the overwhelming emotions made your eyes watery. 

“We’re here,” Hopper announced. Outside the windows were the dilapidated remains of Forest Hills Trailer Park. 

Hopper and Steve stepped out of the car first, scoping the area if it was safe to come out. Two knocks came on the door and the rest of the group filed out. In front of you was the old Munson trailer. The last time you were here was when you helped Wayne Munson clear out what was left after the gates opened up and destroyed half of the trailer park. 

You gripped the barrel of the sawed-off shotgun that Nancy had fashioned for you. Flashes of Eddie’s smile as he greeted you from the very steps you were climbing now flitted across your mind. You stepped over the pile of rubble and entered the trailer. You bit your lip and looked around. 

The kitchen counter was split in half. You remembered sitting on Eddie’s lap with his denim vest on the counter while you helped him sew new patches to it. Every time the sharp needle pricked your skin, he kissed your fingers. Cooing at you and yelling expletives at the darned metal thing that was hurting his girl. When you finished, he thanked you with a million kisses and put the vest on. The very same vest that you wore over your jacket now. 

To your left was the only part of the home that wasn’t destroyed by the gate. Eddie’s room. The door was open and if you ignored your circumstances, you could picture yourself going into his room and finding him on his bed. Maybe he’d have his guitar on his lap or his nose in a book. It didn’t matter because the second he saw you through the doorway, he’d drop whatever it was and open his arms for you. 

This place used to be filled with love and happiness but now it reminded you of everything you’d lost. 

A single tear fell down your cheek. 

When your name was called, you brushed the tear away and faced the group again. There were those sympathetic smiles again. “You ready?” Steve asked you. 

“Yeah.” You said way too fast. The glowing red gate to the Upside Down had moved from the ceiling of the trailer to the ground. Everyone looked at you worriedly but said nothing. Circling around the gate; Hopper, Steve, Nancy, Robin, Eleven, Dustin, and you all stared down at the gate. 

Hopper didn’t hesitate to drop himself into the hole carefully, disappearing from view.  “Everyone come on in!” The chief’s voice made you all jump in surprise.

Steve led the charge and easily crawled through the gate, followed by Nancy and Robin. You handed your shotgun to Robin and bent down to push yourself through the hole. Steve’s hand came into view and you took it to help you through. The two teens came in last and then all of you were in the Upside Down. 

It was your first time being in this damned dimension and your jaw dropped at how it was an exact copy of Hawkins. Red lightning flashed in the distance and thunder growled. You followed Chief Hopper’s lead as you trekked further into the town and closer to the Creel house. Lagging behind the group, you fell into step with Dustin. You glanced at your young friend and saw the unease in his body. It must be hard for him to be back here. 

“You doing alright?” 

Dustin looked at you and it made your heart pang, seeing how much he’d changed over the year. His once perpetually, happy eyes had lost their sparkle. “I should be asking you that.” 

You waved him off. “I wasn’t here when…you know…” Trailing off, you felt your throat constrict. Do not cry. This is about Dustin. “If it ever gets too much, just tell me okay? I’ll take you back. No judgment.” 

He gave you just the hint of a smile. “Thanks.”

The group entered the woods. The thick trees combined with the dark atmosphere made it hard to see clearly. An unsettling vibe was in the air and it wasn’t just the threat of demo-whatevers lurking. No, it was different. You could feel someone watching you. The back of your head tingled and goosebumps appear on the back of your neck. 

Then, out of the corner of your eye, you saw something fast move to your left. You drew your gun in the direction but saw nothing. Squinting, you swore you saw something in the trees. Something that looked human. 

“What is it?” Nancy asked you. Everyone had stopped and brought their respective weapons up. 

“I thought I saw something.” You said quietly. 

“I saw it too.” El said. You looked at her and you both had matching worried expressions. After a few seconds of monitoring your surroundings and it looked like there was nothing. Whatever you saw had just disappeared. 

“Alright, let’s keep moving. Stick to the plan,” Hopper announced and kept walking further into the woods. Reluctantly, you followed. The feeling of being watched still lingered. 

You continued walking for a few minutes, hoping that your fearless leader hadn’t gotten you lost. In the dark, you had to focus extra hard to make sure you weren’t stepping on any vines that would alert Vecna of your location. Of course the one second you take your eyes off the ground, that’s when you slipped on something. Dustin was able to grab your arm and stop you from falling. 

“Thanks, Dusty.”

“No problem.”

You looked at what caused you to trip and your brows knit together. Crouching down, you took a closer look. It didn’t look like a vine nor a puddle of whatever goo covered this place. It looked like… 

A sharp gasp came from you and you picked up the offending item from the ground. A black bandana with skulls and crosses. 

The very same one Eddie was wearing the last time you saw him. 

Wide-eyed, you looked at Dustin. He told you that they left Eddie in the trailer park when they figured that it would be impossible to get him through the gate again. In the stress of being in the Upside Down, you realized that you didn’t see anything when you walked past that very area. Not that you wanted to see what would’ve been left of Eddie but something should’ve been there. 

So, how did this get over here?

The realistic explanation would be that some demonic creature had dragged his body here and it fell off but something in your gut told you that wasn’t right. Could he be…

“There!” Robin yelled. She put her flashlight up to illuminate the figure but it stood firmly about 50 feet away from the group. The light couldn’t reach fully reach it. The only thing you could see was the pair of glowing red orbs floating where its face should be. Bringing your gun up to your chest, you prepared to fight. 

“Dustin, stay behind me.” You whispered to him. 

The figure just stood there, unmoving. You felt a weird sense of familiarity with the creature in the dark and you couldn’t put a finger on it. From what you could see, the silhouette had a big head and a small body. It didn’t look anything like the demogorgon. You tried to regulate your breathing, to calm your shaking hands. 

Then the creature moved abruptly and Hopper fired shots at it but it swerved easily. Your eyes went wide. All the creatures you encountered before were fast but not as fast as this. When it got close to Steve, he swung his bat of nails at it but it easily knocked the bat out of his hands. Nancy aimed and shot the creature right in the middle of its chest but the bullets deflected easily. 

“How did that happen?” Dustin asked. 

Now that it was closer, you could see it more clearly now. What you thought was a big head, was actually a mane of fur. Or hair? Again, it moved quickly, and suddenly, it was right behind you. You pushed Dustin behind you then there was nothing in between you and this monster. 

You were about to pull the trigger on the gun but Robin’s flashlight shined on it, giving you your first good glimpse of it. It was as if someone threw a bucket of cold water all over you when you caught a glimpse of a familiar logo on its chest — the Hellfire Club. You lowered your gun as your jaw dropped. The light traveled up its chest and the creature lifted its head. You finally saw its face.

No.  

Eddie Munson stood in front of you again. He almost looked exactly like he did when you last saw him. Leather jacket, tactical vest. It’s like he was plucked straight out of your memories. Except his shirt was tattered and dried blood stained the white fabric. He looked deathly pale even in the blue hues of this alternate dimension. Blood dripped from the sides of his mouth and his eyes… His eyes weren’t the warm chocolate brown you loved so much. Instead, they were bright red and looked straight at you. Hot tears streamed down your face. 

“Eddie?” You gasped. Eddie tilted his head at your voice but didn’t respond. 

“Oh my god,” Dustin exclaimed. 

“How is he alive?” Steve said. 

Your brain was running a million miles a second. “Eddie?” You tried again. 

Tentatively, you took a step forward. Eddie snarled. Then you noticed the pointy canines that weren’t there before. Before you could get a closer look, he lunged at you. You heard everyone scream and you closed your eyes, bracing yourself for the impact that never came. You opened your eyes and saw that Eddie was frozen in place. He struggled against an invisible force. Beside you, Eleven had her right hand in the air, holding him in place. She squeezed her hand and Eddie let out a choked sound. “Stop! Please, El. Don’t hurt him!” 

“He will kill you.” She told you.

“He won’t. He won’t hurt me.” You begged. El loosened her grip but still kept him restrained.

“Kid, you better get away from him. That’s not the same guy anymore.” Hopper told you, his gun still cocked and aimed for your boyfriend’s chest. 

“No! That’s still him.” You weren’t being rational. You knew that but the chance to get the love of your life back was standing right in front of you and you weren’t going to throw that away. When you turned back to him, Eddie wasn’t struggling as much. “I don’t know if you can understand me or even hear me but I know this isn’t you. Whatever happened… whatever’s making you act this way… I know you can fight it.” 

He didn’t react to your words. He simply stared at you with those red eyes. 

“You’re Eddie Munson. You grew up in Hawkins, Indiana. You love Dungeons and Dragons and metal music and fantasy books. You’re passionate and smart and the kindest person I’ve ever known.” He started shaking in El’s grip. Behind you, you could hear El’s struggling grunts. Your friends tried to stop you again but you simply put a hand up to stop them. You were going to get through to him even if it was the last thing you did. 

“Do you remember how we met?” Silence. “We were 8 and we were in the playground. Some kid pushed me over to get to the swings and I banged up my knees real bad. You saw me on the ground crying with bloody knees and you immediately helped me. You even used your shirt to wipe the blood. I remember you just kept talking to me and asking me all these random questions. And I was so confused that I didn’t even feel the sting when you brushed away the gravel. After that day, we were inseparable.”

Eddie had calmed down as you talked, no longer resisting El’s hold. He breathed deeply and the red light in his eyes dimmed ever so slightly. You tried again to take a step towards him. This time he let you get close. 

“You’re my best friend and the person I love the most. Losing you was the worst thing that ever happened to me so please, please. I know you’re in there, Eds. Come back to me?” You put a hand on his cheek. His skin was impossibly cold and you fought the urge to flinch. “I love you. I always have and I always will.” You whispered.

Eddie let out a breath and closed his eyes. He nuzzled into your touch. You put your other hand on his neck and tangled your fingers in his matted hair, just like you used to do. When he opened his eyes, you were greeted with those familiar brown eyes that you thought you’d never see again. A sob escaped your mouth. 

He mumbled your name. “Are you really here?” Those big, expressive eyes searched yours, looking for reality in the illusions that plagued his mind. Eleven let go of Eddie when she felt that he wasn’t going to attack anymore.

“I’m here.” Your voice cracked. “I’m right here.” 

“Christ, I missed you.” Eddie pulled you to him and you threw your arms around him. You sobbed into his shoulder. You couldn’t believe this was happening. If this was another cruel dream, you hoped you would never wake up again. 

“I lost you.” You choked out. Eddie’s arms were tight around your waist. His strength caught you off guard. Eddie had always been strong but this was different. 

“I know.” Eddie buried his face in your hair. You smelled sweeter than he remembered. 

“You promised you would come back and you left me. You jerk.” You punched his arm lightly. 

“I know. I’m sorry.” He kissed the side of your head. 

“H-how are you alive?” You managed to ask when your sobs subsided. You pushed him back ever so slightly so you could look at him. 

“I don’t know.” Eddie shook his head. He looked behind you. You turned and saw Dustin’s watery eyes. Stepping aside, you let him tackle Eddie in a hug. You could hear Dustin’s sobs. “Hey, buddy.” Eddie rubbed Dustin’s head affectionately as the boy cried in his chest. In the dark, you could see the tear tracks that slipped down his cheeks. 

“That was really cool what you did but also really stupid,” Dustin said once he let go of Eddie. 

“Yeah, dying to a swarm of bats. Pretty metal if I have to say so myself.” 

“So, you remember dying?” You asked him. 

“I do. The last thing I remember was seeing Dustin then everything went dark.” Eddie reached for your hand and, for the first time in a year, your fingers slipped into each other easily. As if no time had passed. “Then I heard a voice, telling me to wake up. It said I needed to join him. To serve him.” 

“Vecna.” Nancy spoke up. The fear in her eyes was clear as she was the only one who had experienced his visions. Eddie nodded at the older Wheeler. 

“I woke up alone and I was okay. I mean, physically. The bites were gone but I knew something was different about me. I felt so thirsty. Like if I didn’t get something to drink, I’d claw my throat out. Then I saw these.” Eddie bared his teeth and you saw the fangs again.

“Like a vampire?” Robin asked.

“I’ve read enough books in my life to know what fangs and an insatiable thirst meant.” Eddie glanced at you hesitantly. He was worried about how you would react to this new development but you simply moved even closer to him, gripped his arm, and held his hand tighter. 

“A vampire? Are you serious?” Steve asked, still not believing that he was actually here and not some group Vecna-hallucination.

“As a heart attack, Harrington.” Steve rolled his eyes at the man. Yeah, that’s Eddie. 

“What else happened, Eds?” You pushed for more answers. 

“He got in my head. I felt stuck in there and I couldn’t get out. He… made me do things. Horrible things. A-and I could see what I was doing but I had no control over myself.” Eddie’s jaw clenched. His tone was angry but you could see the shame in his eyes. “Until now. You pulled me out of his trance. You saved me.” Eddie put his cold hands on your face. 

“Like Kas!” Dustin practically shouted. 

“Who?” Steve threw his hands in the air, frustrated and confused by the lack of answers.

“Kas the Bloody Handed. Vecna’s lieutenant. Dude, you’re literally a DnD character!” Dustin bounced excitedly. “He betrayed Vecna and killed him. It’s prophesized. You’re the key to killing him!”

“And how do we know you’re not gonna turn Dracula on us again?” Chief Hopper who had been very quiet throughout the reunion finally spoke, voice gruff and eyes hard. He knew Eddie Munson. Of course, he did. He booked him multiple times for driving over the limit and he wasn’t sure he trusted the kid. Especially now that he had just tried to kill everyone just minutes ago.

“We don’t. I don’t even know if I’m fully out of this. But I want to help.” Eddie was determined to make things right. He couldn’t stop himself when Vecna had him take out those army men patrolling Hawkins but he could do something now. 

“If he was making you do things, would you know what he’s up to?” Nancy’s mind was whirring with ideas. 

“I do.” 

“And can you help us take him down?” Hopper asked.

Eddie’s face hardened. Then he smirked. A hint of the old Eddie coming to the surface. “With pleasure.” 

Chief Hopper looked at Eddie for a beat and put his gun down finally. “Alright, let’s go.” 

Your friends all gave Eddie a hug and followed Hopper’s lead. The two of you lagged behind the rest of the group. Eddie wanted a moment alone with you. 

“Hi, sweetheart.” He said, softly. You almost cried again hearing his old nickname for you. 

“Hi, Eds.” Your hands were entwined together. You were slowly getting used to the feel of his cold skin against yours. 

“I wanted to talk to you.” Eddie had a serious expression on his face. 

“What is it?” Tilting your head, your brows knitted together.

“You know that I’m not…myself anymore, right?” Eddie looked at the ground. “As Hopper said, we don’t know if or when he’ll take back control and I will never forgive myself if I end up hurting you.” He tried to pull his hands away from yours but you held on tight. 

“If it happens again, then I’ll pull you out of it. I did it once and I can do it again.”

“B-but what if this is what I am now? A monster.” Eddie almost shouted but his voice cracked towards the end.

Your heart broke when you saw the broken look in his eyes. Moving your hands to his neck, you made sure he was looking into your eyes as you said the next words. “Edward Munson, you listen to me. I don’t know what Vecna made you do but it isn’t you. You weren’t in control. I know you better than anyone. You are not a monster, Eddie. Far from it.” 

His eyes softened and a tear fell down his cheek. Eddie put his forehead against yours. “You’re too good for me.” 

“I hate when you say that. Do you even know how much you mean to me?” Your thumb brushed away his tear.

“I think your speech earlier gave me a clue.” Eddie took your hand in his and gently touched the ring on your finger. He ran his thumb over the metal. “You kept it?” Eddie’s voice cracked. 

“I never took it off from the day you gave it to me.” You confessed and Eddie kissed your knuckle tenderly. “I’m yours, Eddie.” 

He pinched your waist, playfully. “Even if I’m part of the undead now?” 

“Even then.” A big smile spread on your face. An equally big smile tugged on his lips and those fangs came into view again. You eagerly tugged him down and crashed your lips against his. Eddie sighed into the kiss and made a whining sound. He cupped your jaw and pulled you impossibly close. 

You were still wrapping your head around the fact that you had Eddie back. The fact that you could kiss him again, be able to hold him in your arms. For some reason, you were lucky enough to get a second chance and you couldn’t be more grateful. Eddie’s lips moved against yours. He parted slightly to slip his tongue into your mouth but one of his teeth poked the tender skin of your lip. You yelped.

“What happened? Did I hurt you?” Eddie fawned over you. His thumbs brushed under your lips. 

“No, no! You just poked me.” You were breathless after the kiss. 

“Can’t even kiss my girlfriend without hurting her.” He mumbled.  

“Hey, I’m okay. You didn’t hurt me.” You pushed his chin up so he’d look at you again. “We’ll get through this together, Eds. I promise.” You kissed him again, sweetly and softly. Just what he needed after being stuck in this terrible situation. 

When he pulled away, he hugged you tight. You pressed your cheek against his chest, slightly missing the steady beat of his heart. You rubbed your hands on his back. “I love you, too. I never got to say it back.” Eddie said. 

You closed your eyes and let yourself forget about Vecna, the Upside Down, and vampires. 

You had your Eddie back. 

And you were going to be okay. 

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson #stranger things #she speaks

[aphroditelovesu]

A Black Rose

— summary: A cruel and narcissistic reaper falls in love with the woman he was supposed to take the life of.

— warnings: mention of death, disease and murder.

— pairing: yandere!ian daerier x female!reader.

— word count: 1,266.

— author's note: I wrote it because I kept thinking of a yandere reaper and it was my dear Ian that popped into my head. I hope you like it, forgive me for any mistakes and the image is not mine! Belongs to the creator of the game, all credits to her! ❤️🖤

On a somber, frosty night, Ian padded silently through the narrow village streets, his dark cloak trailing on the cobblestones. Dense fog hid his face, giving him an even more terrifying appearance. The full moon, pale in the sky, cast a ghostly light over the empty houses and gnarled trees, creating shadows that danced around them. His scythe was sharp and he was preparing for another soul harvest.

The soul he was going to fetch belonged to a human woman, sick and on the verge of death.

Ian didn't care.

He had been alive for three hundred years and had been harvesting souls for longer than he could count since he had been turned into a reaper.

The reaper has become insensitive to the death and suffering of others.

He learned to like it, actually. Of the screams, the pleas and the cruel smile when he took the life of his victim.

It was a consolation for the crimes he had committed and would continue to commit. He didn't care about anything, he would be sure it would take ages for him to care about anyone but himself.

One more insignificant human life meant nothing to him.

So why did he feel something he hadn't felt in ages? Why he felt... Ian didn't know how to define the feeling, but he knew he didn't like what he was feeling. The last time he'd felt it, whatever it was, he was still a young, naive wizard, happy with his family.

Completely oblivious and ignorant of what would happen in the years to come.

The reaper didn't know why he was feeling a feeling long forgotten and uncomfortable for him, but he knew it had to do with the dying woman. He looked at her, his green eyes shining, giving a perfect contrast to his black hair and the sinister smile he always wore when doing his job.

The sick woman, whose hour was at hand, lay on her bed, weak and shivering with fever. Her glassy eyes stared blankly at the ceiling as she fought the pain and anguish. She knew death was coming, but she still held a spark of hope, a hope that maybe, this time, death would let her escape.

Ian approached the house, the darkness of night enveloping him. His scythe glowed with an ominous light, as if it was eager to do its duty. He entered the woman's room and stood there, watching her for a moment. His empty eyes stared back at her, and she felt a deep shiver run down her spine.

"Who... Who are you?" The woman whispered with difficulty, her voice weak and shaky.

Ian didn't answer. He simply raised the scythe, preparing to reap her soul. But this time, something happened. A spark of empathy, long buried, ignited inside him. He saw the fear in her eyes, saw her fragility and pain, and something inside him began to question.

Empathy. That's what he was feeling, what he didn't remember.

The woman let out a final sigh, accepting her final fate without reluctance, but Ian hesitated. The scythe trembled in his hands. He looked into the woman's face and, for the first time in ages, saw the humanity in someone. She wasn't just another soul to be harvested; she was a person, with a life and stories.

Slowly, Ian lowered the scythe. The woman closed her eyes, waiting for her life to slip away, but it didn't. The reaper backed away, as if the very idea of taking her life was unbearable. He turned and silently left the room, leaving her to face her illness alone.

He could not reap the woman. He couldn't find the strength in himself to do it. It was better that another reaper did the job.

Ian walked through the empty village streets, lost in thought. For the first time in a long time, he questioned his purpose and existence. The coldness that had once gripped his heart began to melt, and he found himself at a crossroads between his dark nature and a small spark of humanity he had rediscovered.

Ian continued to roam the shadows of the night, but now he carried a doubt he had never felt before. The next soul he meets could change his destiny once and for all, taking him down an unknown and uncertain path.

He didn't like it.

Ian continued his quest for souls, but the experience with the sick human woman left an indelible mark on his mind. He could no longer ignore the empathy that had surged through him that dark night. However, he also knew that in order to save her life, he would have to make tough choices.

The reaper, Ian, now plagued by an inner conflict, began to seek out souls who were on the brink of death. He proceeded to reap the souls of those who had caused others to suffer, those who had spread pain and misery. Just as he himself had done.

As the days passed, the souls he harvested to save the human woman were, more and more, the souls of people who had committed terrible acts. He saw the anguish in their eyes when they realized they were being taken by him, and although it brought him deep satisfaction, he believed he was doing what was necessary to save an innocent life. To save the life of that woman whose name can't get out of his head.

In time, the human woman began to recover. The illness that had left her on the verge of death began to regress, and her strength slowly returned. She never knew of the dark pact Ian had made on her behalf, of the lives that had been sacrificed so that hers would be spared.

Ian continued his dark journey, knowing he had taken on a heavy burden. He couldn't erase the cruel acts he had committed and he didn't care about the crimes he had committed. He didn't care about the lives he had taken and will continue to take because he knew he had fallen in love with the woman he had saved.

Reapers weren't supposed to save lives but Ian didn't care about the rules of the King of the Dead.

Ian wasn't innocent and he never would be, but he had empathized with her for the first time in ages and he wanted more. He wanted to continue feeling that feeling that the young woman had given him.

He needed to feel again.

That was what he had told himself when he found himself in that village once more, in front of the woman's house. Ian took a deep breath and waited for her to open the door.

When the door opened, Ian smiled warmly and felt a small inner satisfaction when he saw that she had recognized him.

''Hello, love.'' He smiled, showing his perfectly aligned white teeth. She widened her eyes and took two steps back. Ian chuckled and walked into that woman's house. ''We weren't properly introduced, were we?''

She couldn't speak.

Ian brought the woman's pale face close and lifted her chin with his index finger, ''My name is Ian Daerier. It's a pleasure.'' He purred happily. The woman opened her mouth but no sound came out.

Ian closed the door behind him with a dull thud and turned to face her. ''Do not be afraid. I won't hurt you, quite the contrary.'' Daerier laughed and touched her cheek, he bent down to her height and whispered in her ear,

''I came to take care of you, cupcake.''

#arkyos angel #yandere arkyos angel #ian daerier x reader #yandere ian daerier #yandere ian daerier x reader #oneshot #imagine #yandere imagine #yandere au #yandere

[rotting-ink]

The Romances of Witchwood

While you fight for your life and freedom, you won't have a lot of allies, but that doesn't mean you have to go at it alone. But who will you decide to walk beside you during this time?

Book 1 Romances

L. Rawlins-

Luther/Loralei Rawlins. Werewolf. Pack Leader. Feared and love, and they're on your scent. Better clear things up quick, or you'll find yourself with a scar mirroring their's.

Seir-

Seir, your familiar. Demon. High blooded. They were the one who offered you your way out, and now they slink behind you wherever you go. While most times, they keep to their animal form, it doesn't mean that you can get them to slip into a more... Comfortable shape. If they like you, of course.

S. Della Rovere-

Sienna~Simeone Della Rovere. Vampire. Baron/Baroness. The rake around town with the devil may care attitude. A good old fashioned Rogue who follows their own flights of fancy and a slave to their own whims. Their cheery attitude comes from the fact that if they don't want to do something? They simply won't do it. It's hard to maintain their attention after capturing it.

V. De Winters-

Victoria~Victor DeWinters. Human. Count/Countess. Charismatic, rich and married. There are rumours surrounding their activities, some whisper that they had an affair with a famous opera singer, other's say that they're a gold digger. No one truely knows their history, and that's how they love it.

Z. Chambers-

Zaniyah~Zachariah Chambers. Reaper. Somber. Dead and extremely busy. Would rather if you didn't interfere with their work, but who are they to say no? Deeply melancholic, they don't often rise out of their quite subdued state, but whose to say that they won't perk up with an accused murderer begging for their help?

Book 2 Romances

Saleos-

Saleos. Wayward Familiar. If you thought Seir was high blooded, they make them look like the demons assigned to cleaning up after orgies in noble houses. Flighty and a flaunter, they make natural enemies of every single Witch Familiar they could ever come across. But they're here... For you~

Starling Knight-

Starling Knight. Local Doctor doubling as the Mortician. Grey Witch, and one of the most respected ones around. You could call them a friend and they'd side eye you, even though they are the closest thing to a buddy you've had during your stay in South Hollow. Detached, stoic and with the worst bedside manner.

Book 3 Romances

A. Lancaster

Amber/Ambrose Lancaster. Human. Witch Hunter. Cold and intense, but somehow the most humane out of everyone in the Witch Hunters. You better hope you befriend them fast, because this one is actively out for your blood. But what else is new.

D. Woolf

Dietrich/Dorothea Woolf. Human. Professor. Quiet, sincere and studious, they're a potential friend built up throughout the other books. They've been sickly for a long while now, but that doesn't mean that they want to sit out on the action.

E. Rawlins

Emil/Emilia Rawlins. Werewolf. Loner. Bitter, spiteful and crude, they never fully rose to their full potential due to their sibling's over protectiveness. They've become jaded, nasty and obsessive, especially the object of their puppy love.

Quincy Beaumont

Quincy Beaumont. Human. Famous Opera Singer touring the continent but deigned to return to South Hollow on a very special invitation. Mean, talented, and two faced, they simply can't wait to become your closest confidante.

#just love interest things #the rot of witchwood #ehehehe #that's the first five #l rawlins #seir the familiar #s della rovere #v de winters #z chambers

[anonymousewrites]

A Good Day for Death (Book 1) Chapter Thirteen

Wednesday Addams x Reaper! Reader

Chapter Thirteen: A Good Day for Birthdays

Summary: It's Wednesday's birthday, but she doesn't want cake and presents. She wants adventure and mystery at the Gates Mansion.

            “Wednesday?” called (Y/N), opening the door to their dorm.

            Wednesday sighed and put down her talisman. She blew out her séance candles and turned around. “I had asked you to join me as a link to the other side so I could talk to Goody.”

            “Sorry, Enid stole me. Ajax drama,” said (Y/N), smiling brightly. “I can help you tomorrow night if you want.”

            Wednesday nodded. “I expect punctuality.”

            Behind them, a paper was slipped under the dorm door. Wednesday raised an eyebrow and picked it up.

            “ ‘If you want answers, meet inside Crackstone’s Crypt. Midnight,’ ” she read.

            “Should we go check it out?” asked (Y/N) excitedly.

            “It would be foolish not to,” said Wednesday, already slipping the note into her pocket and grabbing her satchel and coat.

            Together, they headed out to Crackstone’s Crypt. It was dark as they walked up, making sure to keep quiet as mice. Wednesday pushed open the door to the crypt itself and walked in, shining her flashlight around. And then, suddenly, the most terrible sound of all began to ring out.

            Singing.

            “Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday, dear Wednesday! Happy birthday to you!” sang (Y/N), Enid, Xavier, and a few other people of Wednesday’s acquaintance.

            Wednesday turned and glared at Thing. “You told them when my birthday was? What part of ‘no party under the penalty of death’ do you not understand?’ ”

            “Don’t get mad at him, I planned this after he told me your birthday was the thirteenth,” admitted (Y/N). They smiled and gestured to the cake Enid was holding that had a little reaper and some bones and blood on it. “I thought if we made it morbid enough maybe you’d like it.” Their smiled turned sheepish. “I…guess not.”

            Wednesday was about to respond when the light of her flashlight landed on a carving in stone on the wall. She walked over and crouched down by it. “ ‘Fire will rain…when I rise,’ ” she read quietly. The first three words were identical to those burnt into Nevermore’s grounds. It couldn’t be a coincidence.

            “We’re never eating that cake, are we?” said Ajax.

            When Wednesday touched the writing and was thrown into a vision, (Y/N) knew they wouldn’t. Their poem they had written for Wednesday lay heavier in their pocket as the candles of their cake burned out.

l

            “Goody,” breathed Wednesday as she stood up in the misty forest to gaze at her ancestor behind an iron gate.

            “You’re the Raven in my bloodline,” said Goody. Suddenly, she was beside her descendent. “Wednesday.”

            “I was told you could teach me how to control my ability,” said Wednesday.

            “There is no controlling a raging river,” said Goody. Her gaze even more dead and somber than Wednesday’s. The weight of horrors untold rested in her eyes. “You must learn to navigate it without dying. Time is not on our side.” She turned and faced the gate and mansion beyond it. “To stop Crackstone, this place you must seek.”

            “Do you always speak in riddles?” questioned Wednesday.

            “Do you always seek simple answers?” challenged Goody. “The path of a Raven is a solitary one. You end up alone, unable to trust others, only seeing the darkness within them.”

            “Is that supposed to scare me?” asked Wednesday.

            “It should,” said Goody. “You have a fondness for the light.” Her gaze darkened even more than before, speaking of haunting shadows and memories. “Our darkness only dims it, consumes it.”

            She vanished into the mist.

l

            “I am sorry for the party,” reiterated (Y/N) back in their dorm as they sat and watched Wednesday sketch the sight from her visions. “I thought maybe you would like a spooky little get-together.”

            “I have more pressing matters than conventions for birthdays,” said Wednesday.

            “Right…” said (Y/N). They were admittedly disappointed that their work had been for naught, but they guessed they shouldn’t have expected Wednesday to like it. They should have just left it alone. “Well, when you are less busy, I have another convention for you,” said (Y/N), trying to remain genial. “I have a gift.”

            Wednesday paused and looked up as (Y/N) held out a black envelope with ‘Wednesday’ written in white. She took it from them and put it in her jacket pocket. “Thank you,” she said.

            (Y/N) cleared their throat and put on a smile. “Right, well, uh, I’m going to go see who wants pieces of chocolate cake! Can’t let it go to waste…”

            “I shall continue with the investigation,” said Wednesday.

She meant it to be an offer for (Y/N) to return to work with her, but (Y/N) took it as a dismissal since they had already “messed up” with the small birthday celebration.

            “Right,” said (Y/N), standing up and leaving the dorm. “Um. Let me know if I can do anything. You know, to make up for the birthday party thing.” The poor reaper was feeling a little bit guilty that they had annoyed the girl they liked.

l

            “Wednesday?” asked (Y/N) as the girl in question walked into their dorm in the evening. “Are you alright? I heard about the Mayor getting hit by that car and that you were with Weems and I got worried that you were involved. What happened?”

            “I watched someone attempt to murder him for discovering something at the Gates mansion which Goody told me to investigate in my vision,” said Wednesday succinctly. “I’ve been banned from leaving campus by Weems for being at the scene of a crime once again.”

            (Y/N) blinked. “Wow…that’s a lot.”

            Wednesday nodded. “Now. Meet me at the edge of campus tonight at midnight.”

            “Whoa, whoa, what? This soon after the Mayor was nearly killed? Are you sure his attacked won’t just be waiting for you?” asked (Y/N).

            Wednesday looked at them. “You’ve been fine with sneaking out before.”

            “Yeah, before Eugene was attacked so close to the school and the Mayor was hit by a car for the same investigation you’re leading,” said (Y/N). “It just feels like whoever’s behind this could still be on high alert and just hoping we show up, you know? Shouldn’t we give it at least a day in case?”

            Wednesday crossed her arms. “I’m going tonight, whether you are or not. I need to solve this case.” She couldn’t let the murderer keep escaping. Not when the monster had attacked Eugene, her friend, now. It could come after anyone, and she didn’t want that. Not when she had, unfortunately, grown attached to some of her peers at Nevermore (some more than others).

            (Y/N) bit their lip and shifted uncomfortably. Finally sighing, they said, “I can’t let you go into danger on your own. I’m with you.”

            “Then I’ll see you at the gates of Nevermore at midnight,” said Wednesday. She went to the door. “I have some more arrangements to make.”

            (Y/N) frowned. I have a bad feeling about this…

l

            Nonetheless, at midnight they were standing out in the cold by the gates of Nevermore Academy. They pulled their black scarf tighter over their turtleneck and jacket.

            Wednesday appeared out of the shadows. “Are you ready?”

            (Y/N) nodded. “As I’ll ever be.”

            A car pulled up beyond the gates. “There’s our ride,” said Wednesday.

            “Tyler?” asked (Y/N).

            When Wednesday nodded, they frowned. After he and Xavier had caused problems during the Rave’N, they hadn’t anticipated her talking much to them. Then again…Tyler was the only person she knew with a car, so it was likely Wednesday was just using that. (Y/N) wasn’t sure how Wednesday managed to remove emotions from her decisions, but they wished they could as well.

            Not to mention, (Y/N) had thought Wednesday was planning on going to the Gates mansion on her own with no one to watch out for her.

            They ducked out of Nevermore, and Wednesday opened the door to the car and slid into the passenger seat. (Y/N) sat down behind her.

            “Uh, I thought we were going on a date?” asked Tyler in confusion, a frown on his face as he looked at (Y/N).

            Another person opened the other backseat door and sat down. Enid, in bright pink as usual, frowned in puzzlement. “He’s our Uber driver? I thought this was a roomies night out!”

            “There’s been a change of plans,” said Wednesday simply. “Just drive.”

            Wednesday, you’re about to take us all to a place where a murderer might be hanging around, and you didn’t tell everyone the truth? (Y/N) grimaced. Not the best move.

            Once they arrived at the Gates mansion, they all disembarked and shone flashlights up at the gates.

            “Seriously? You wanna go in there,” said Enid. “This place is creepy AF.”

            “I know,” said Wednesday with a barely-concealed smile. “(Y/N), get the lock.”

            (Y/N) sighed and went to pick the lock.

            “Okay. This isn’t what I signed on for,” said Tyler.

            “Ditto,” agreed Enid.

            “I didn’t want to celebrate my birthday by going to dinner or a surprise birthday,” said Wednesday. “I want to do this.”

            (Y/N) had to admit they were still guilty about not doing something acceptable for her birthday, but this type of clear Wednesday manipulation was a little irritating. If Wednesday was just honest, they and her friends would help.

            “We would have gone with you if you had said that,” pointed out (Y/N), pushing the gates open.

            “I’ll keep that in mind the next time we’re investigating a murder,” said Wednesday, starting the walk inside.

            They entered into the garage and found a car under a tarp. (Y/N) and Wednesday made eye contact, and Wednesday pulled the tarp back.

            “Is that the car that hit the mayor?” asked (Y/N), looking at Wednesday.

            Wednesday examined it. “It is.”

            “Okay. This just took a dark turn!” cried Enid, officially freaked out. “We need to call Tyler’s dad right freaking now!”

            “Why?” asked Wednesday. “So he can take me back to Nevermore and get me expelled?”

            “We could make an anonymous tip,” offered (Y/N).

            “Not until we’ve finished out investigation,” said Wednesday, heading into the house.

            Inside, it was dark, and the walls had torn wallpaper, and the furniture was covered in dust. It seemed to be a regular abandoned house. Paintings of the family hung on the walls, as dismal as the rest of the house and history of the Gates family.

            “This is the night I’m gonna die,” muttered Tyler, but no one replied from both focus and fear depending on the person.

            “Do you have any idea what Goody wanted you to find?” murmured (Y/N) as they went.

            Wednesday examined the bookshelves for signs of dust being disturbed. “No. She was frustratingly vague.”

            “Alright. I’ll keep an eye out for anything out of ordinary,” said (Y/N).

            “Are you sure you haven’t seen enough already?” called Tyler, looking around nervously.

            Wednesday found a small carving with no dust on it and pressed it in response. A soft clunk echoed around the room, and a bookshelf slid back into the wall and swung out of sight. Behind it was a large painting of Crackstone. Beneath it rested candles and red paint (hopefully paint) spelling out “blood will rain.”

            “Oh. An altar to a crazy guy. Great,” said (Y/N).

            “Yeah. Who doesn’t have a spooky built-in altar in their library?” muttered Enid shakily.

            “Ours is in the living room,” said Wednesday. “More seating for year-long Dia de los Meurtos,”

            (Y/N) brightened. “Oh, I love Dia de los Meurtos! My birthday is November first, so it’s always a double party during that time for me and my family.”

            Enid smiled in awkward relief at someone seeming normal. “Well, at least someone has fun with this spooky stuff.”

            Wednesday stepped inside the altar space and let her flashlight wash over the rest of it. The red paint said “blood will rain” on one side and “when I rise” on the other. It was a play on what his crypt’s inscriptions said. Wednesday felt the candles and looked back at (Y/N).

            “They’re still warm,” she said.

            (Y/N) grimaced. “I did say someone could still be here.” They were trying to keep Enid and Tyler’s spirits up, but at this point, there wasn’t much hope of that.

            “Tyler, Enid, you check the rest of the ground floor,” ordered Wednesday. “(Y/N) and I will search upstairs.”

            “Are you sure you don’t want to do teams of two to be safe?” said Tyler. “(Y/N) and Enid could watch each other’s backs, and I could watch yours.”

            It was not lost on Enid that Tyler clearly wanted to be with Wednesday, so before he could continue, she said, “Let’s just get this over with quickly.”

            Enid left for the other side of house as Wednesday and (Y/N) went upstairs. “You go left, and I’ll go right,” said Wednesday.

            “This is horror movie level terrible decisions, but if you insist,” said (Y/N), glancing around themself as they shone their flashlight down the hall.

            They carefully searched each room in order. One was an abandoned bathroom with nothing in it but bugs and spiderwebs. Another was an old children’s playroom with creepy dolls and stuffed animals. The last, though, was a girl’s bedroom. It was Laurel Gates’s bedroom, Garrett’s sister. That alone would have made it creepy if not for one more important fact:

            It was clean. Someone had been inside it recently and made it look good as soon. There were even flowers resting by the beside next to (Y/N). With their nerves, the flowers began to wilt as they drained them, but they stepped away before they destroyed anymore evidence.

            “Wednesday! I’ve got something,” they called. Wednesday came in and found the same sight as them. (Y/N) motioned to the room. “No dust or cobwebs. Bed’s made, too. Someone’s been here.” Wednesday nodded and examined the flowers. Her eyes narrowed. “This jewelry box says ‘LG.’ ” They looked at Wednesday curiously. “Do you think that means Laurel Gates?”

            “Undoubtedly,” said Wednesday, crouching by them.

            “It looks like somebody moved back into their old room,” murmured (Y/N).

            “It’s impossible,” said Wednesday, narrowed her eyes. “She died twenty-five years ago, drowned overseas.”

            “Unless she didn’t,” said (Y/N).

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#wednesday 2022 #netflix wednesday #wednesday addams #wednesday x reader #wednesday #the addams family #addams #wednesday addams x reader #x reader #gn reader #x nb reader #nb reader #x gn reader #a good day for death #wednesday season one #wednesday season 1

[fractal-knights]

The Fractal Knights:

The Fractal Knights chapter is made up of the geneseeds of many legions separate chapters that were nearly destroyed in a brutal campaign. The chapters' colors are dark blue, light grey, and black. The companies of the chapter were named in honor of the fallen chapters with the most surviving members that make up the majority of said company. Their battle cry is "Honor the fallen, and protect those yet standing." Their home is the Fortress Monastery, The Eternal Monument.

1st Company: Unity Company. (Named as such for it being made up of the best of all companies, and thus the best of all the fallen chapters, representing unity)

2nd Company: Celestial Knights Company. (The Celestial Knights were a Dark Angel Successor)

3rd Company: Wings of Dawn Company. (The Dawns Wings were a Blood Angel Successor.)

4th Company: Nova Dragons Company. (The Nova Dragons were a Salamander Successor)

5th Company: Tundra Wolves Company. (The Tundra Wolves were a Space Wolf Successor)

6th Company: The Imperial Paragons Company. (The Imperial Paragons were an Ultramarine successor)

7th Company: Iron Hammer Company. (The Iron Hammers were a Iron Hand successor)

8th Company: Storm Hawks Company. (the Storm Hawks were a Whitescar successor)

9th Company: Stellar Wardens Company (The Stellar Wardens were an Imperial Fist successor)

10th Company: Shadow Talon Company. (The Shadow Talons were a Ravenguard Successor)

Other Chapters that had fallen but only have squads named after them are ones of unknown origins, such as The Lunar Lords, The Blood Fangs, The Eternal Scholors, The Emperor's Scions, The Marauders Unbound, The Blazing Pheonix, The Dark Vigilance, The Hallowed Reapers, and many more, including the most mysterious one, The Serpants Eye.

Chapter Master: Lucifer Samael, Champion of the Dreaded Campaign, and Lord of the Shattered Remnants. Many are unsure of who's geneseed lies within him. However, many believe him to be either a son of the Lion or Sanguinius. Either way, he had proven himself time and again, earning the rank of Chapter Master. All they know is that when he led the broken chapters to victory in the final days of the dreaded campaign, his armor had been so badly damaged, its heraldry was stripped away.

Honorguard Captain: Malakbel Dolico, Furious Castellan of the Vermilion Seal. Once a champion of The Lunar Lords, one of many chapters of unknown origin, and one that had great skill in warfare. He sought to maintain the strength and honor of this new chapter so that it doesn't meet the same fate as the old, and thus he proved himself worthy of leading the Honorguard.

1st Captain: Octavius Augustanus, Unwavering Heretic Slayer of the Celestial Nexus. A survivor of The Blood Fangs chapter, a chapter of unknown origin known for strength and brutality to their enemies, and turning the ground to blood-stained mud. He fought viciously and led many in defiance against unbearable odds and was a veteran of many battles, thus leading to him becoming the captain of the chapters veterans.

2nd: Captain: Raziel Faross, Grim Liberator of the Cleansing Spire. A mostly silent warrior of the Celestial Knights, who is one of few words, only speaking when necessary, as he believes actions are most important to lead. He has shown this many times, as those of his brothers are finest at bringing death when under his command.

3rd Captain: Dominiel Norea, Vengeful Warrior of the Ebon Blade. A somber survivor of the Wings of Dawn, he seeks to avenge not just those of his brothers who fell long ago, but all of the people of the Imperium who have suffered at the hands of the enemies of Man.

4th Captain: Skatar'nev Kal, Noble Herald of the Liberated Beacon. A son of the Nova Dragons, he led the effort of evacuating civilians during the dreaded campaign. Because of him, many had survived to tell the tale of the marines that died in those gruesome battles.

5th Captain: Grimrek the Berserker, Brash Rune Carvee of the Blood-Ice Saga. The Tundra Wolves was once where his loyalty lied. He served as a Rune Priest before being granted the rank of captain in his new chapter. After the fall of the Tundra Wolves, he hunted down the bastards that brought its ruin. He had nearly died several times during that time, and even lost his arm. But not once did the enemy make him fall.

6th Captain: Octavius Evidurius, Unwavering Commander of the Besieged Brethren, once a master strategist of the Imperial Paragons, and had devised many attack plans that resulted in swift victory.

7th Captain: Aratatus Mohl, Stalwart Smith of the Platinum Crusade. A Trch Marine of the Iron Hammer chapter, he had made sure all of his brothers in battle had their warmachines ready for whatever was to come.

8th Captain: Temukh Ilkhen, Agile Tracker of the Martial Rift. He called the Storm Hawks home before it fell. After that, he joined Grimrek in the hunt of vengeance before they returned to the rest of the Fractal Knights.

9th Captain: Adrim Pertadias, somber tactician worn down by brutal defenses against enemy wretches at Adrallasha IV. Once a member of the Stellar Wardens, the defenses held out as long as they did only because of his fortifications. He had held back brutal assaults that would have broken lesser men.

10th Captain: Brakna Kurthovae, Untiring Crusader of the Emperor's Bastion. He led the scouts and vanguard of the Shadow Talons in wiping out the enemy command structure during the dreaded campaign. It was what made victory even conceivable due to his efforts in leaving the enemy uncoordinated.

Chief Librarian: Ahmyn Abathon, Sanctioned Protector of the Hallowed Revelations. A skilled Librarian, he was but a Lexicanium of the The Eternal Scholors chapter, a chapter of unknown origin that was mostly made up of psykers. When his old chapter fell, he made it his mission to preserve the secrets of all the fallen chapters so they wouldn't be forgotten.

Chief Apothecary: Vispenarr Kiresh, Relentless Son of the Martyr's Conquests. Once an Apothecary of the Blazing Pheonix Chapter, an unknown chapter with many arogant individuals. He, too, was as arogant as his brothers, once having been a proud master of the blade, until he failed to save so many during the dreaded campaign. After that, he swore to save as many as possible by becoming an Apothecary. Through his dedication, he had risen up the ranks, reaching the status he carries to this day.

Master of the forge: Corradin Thassurius, Stubborn Conquerer of the Theldrite Stronghold. He served in the Marauders Unbound, another chapter of unknown origin, but had great skill in the art of the siege. He has made great and mighty war machines, capable of crushing any defense.

Master of Sanctity: Vasseo Baalald, Malevolent Heretic Slayer of the Obsidian Cloister. Once a member of a chapter called the Emperor's Scions, a chapter of unknown origins, which was a heavily religious chapter. He was one who constantly sought to follow the tonctrines of the Emperor, as read in the Lectitio Divinitatus, and thus, it was only a matter of time before he became the master of the chaplains.

#warhammer 40000 #warhammer 40k #space marines #homebrew

[animeloverskylarmoon]

Mayuri Kurotsuchi (Bleach) - Chapter 3

These meetings always make you anxious. The second you stepped through those doors your chest felt heavy.

The captains were all lined up and Jushiro sent a sympathetic smile. You're technically still a member of his squad, but you practically live at the twelfth division now.

"Kurotsuchi, present your findings."

The head captain's tone never truly held much emotion unless he was scolding. It still made you weary. You're at the center, just waiting.

"Very well."

He stepped over to you.

You're not sure what's about to happen because he hasn't exactly been very forthcoming with his research.

"She possesses power that most of you cannot comprehend." Those clearly aren't the words they want to hear. A few of them shift, and Toshiro's eyes are focused on you. This wasn't exactly helping your case.

"You all fear her because you don't understand her power, it's actually quite pathetic. She is not a threat to us. Let me demonstrate."

You aren't really sure what exactly he intends to demonstrate. When he reaches for your blade you flinch. He pulls it right out of the sheath.

"W-Wait what are you doing!"

He lifts his own blade that glows. You gape when he raises your blade and brings his own down. It strikes your zanpakuto and you're shocked when the metal shatters into pieces. Your eyes shake and the entire room looks stunned.

Mayuri drops your broken sword, disinterested.

You drop to your knees, staring at the shattered weapon.

Jushiro is enraged.

"What is the meaning of this!!"

He looks ready to fight, but Shunsui grabs his arm, shaking his head.

Mayuri sheaths his zanpaktou.

"Is this not what you all wanted? For me to get rid of the threat." His words sound like a jab, and Toshiro looks a bit guilty.

"You view her as an enemy, why should it matter if she no longer has a weapon? Would that not give us the advantage? You fear her. Her power makes you uneasy."

You're still trying to process that it's gone.

You still recall when you got it.

"No way (Y/N)-chan, you have a zanpaktou!!"

The voice of your friend catches you by surprise. Growing up in Rukongai was rough. That's why when you all finally made it to the academy, it felt like a dream.

That morning you had woken to shouting.

You turned your head, and sure enough there was a blade right at the side of your futon.

"W-What! That's impossible! It can't be mine."

A few of the others were staring in awe. No one had truly gotten their weapons yet. You were all in the first phases of the training. According to the captains, attaining a blade usually took months.

You stare at the weapon, hands hesitant.

"Are you..really mine?"

You aren't sure what you're asking, it's not like it can hear you.

"Akaya. That's my name."

Your eyes widen.

"Did you hear that!!"

Your friend shakes her head.

"Hear what?"

You can't believe this. You must be hallucinating.

Unless...

"Akaya."

You say aloud.

It glows and gasps echo throughout the room. You don't know why, but it's almost like it's calling you. Reaching out, you pick it up and the familiarity of it is amazing. You feel connected.

"I'll treasure you, Akaya."

You finally understand what they meant when they spoke about the bond between a reaper and it's zanpaktou.

"I'm in your care."

Sitting there, it feels like you've broken that promise.

The somber looks are shared throughout the room.

"Akaya.." You whisper.

The light that elects from those pieces catches you off guard. Mayuri just smirks.

The entire room lights up and the gush of wind has your hair flying around wildly. A few of them cover their faces. When the light finally dissipates, your zanpaktou is airborne, hovering right in front of you.

Good as new.

On instinct you hold out your hands and it drops right into your grasp.

They just stare, astonished and you grip it.

"Akaya..y-you're okay.."

The second it was broken you should have been more worried about your title of a reaper, but the thought of being here without your blade was much more painful.

"I have adjusted the properties of my blade to reconstruct in the event that it is ever destroyed, but (L/N) has the ability to do it at will."

You look up at him.

"She's not dangerous. That day her zanpaktou was merely protecting her. Like all of us, our blades are part of us. She has just reached a higher feat. One that I intend to implement into my studies."

He's wearing that creepy grin whenever he finds something he'll like to tear apart, but you can't be happier. You're about to express your gratitude, but your head lolls forward.

Mayuri pauses, curious. When you lift your head, your gait changes. Your eyes are glowing.

"I appreciate you trying to prove your point reaper, but the next time you cause harm to my master, emotional or physical, I will not take it lightly."

Yamamoto stands, bringing his staff down.

"You are Akaya."

He questions. Your head nods.

"My alliance is to my master, no one else. Tread lightly."

That is surely a threat.

The spark in your eyes disappears and you blink.

The stares directed at you have you a bit uncomfortable.

"A-Ano..is something wrong?"

Jushiro just smiles.

"Welcome back, (Y/N)-san."

Your face lights up and you're beaming, because Yamamato just takes a seat.

"You'll be approved to return to your previous position. That is all."

Nothing else is said. With a thankful smile, you turn to Mayuri, bowing.

"ARIGATOU!!"

Turns out all you really needed in your life was this crazy scientist.

#mayuri kurotsuchi #bleach #experiements #humor #tests #mayurixreader #nemu kurotsuchi #feelings #care #soul reapers #soul society #trust

[feminaferitas]

supernatural/monster au character backgrounds

v: it's not evil - just hungry, available for shauna/jackie/misty/nat note: full background/social and timeframe setting for verse/threads is flexible dependent on plotting with partner

Cast: Shauna the psychopomp, Jackie the siren, Natalie the dhampir, Misty the hag-touched.

Shauna Shipman: Psychopomp

A psychopomp, or in essence, a reaper, is a melancholy and misunderstood figure. Associated with death but never the cause of it, Shauna is feared all the same. She arrives at the site of death and quietly begins the work of preparing the soul for its next stage of being. She does not judge or condemn the dead, but simply makes the transition to the afterlife a little easier, perhaps a little kinder. Her hunter's knife is the scythe by which she severs the threads to the mortal plane, whether or not there is a body left to carve. It is somber, solitary work to clean up the place where a life once was, but she dutifully does her work no matter how many believe her to be a butcher.

Shauna often does not know those she is tasked with ferrying, but if she learns anything of them, she writes down details of who they once were in her journal. Much of a life is lost to time, but she tries to remember the ones she helps.

She sometimes takes the form of her young self, and sometimes she is older, but Shauna exists outside of linear time and most frequently appears to be her teenage self (even if she never really was a teenager). She can also manifest in animal forms, occasionally a deer or a flock of birds waiting just beyond the body.

Shauna doesn't appear naturally to the living, unless they have some connection to the otherworldly -- the killers, those who have had near-death experiences, and others who have witnessed a lot of death may be included in this, but there isn't an exact science to it.

Jackie Taylor: Siren

What she lacks in skill and acuity she makes up for in influence. Sirens have that sort of hold on people, after all. For the longest time, Jackie never really understood why she always got what she wanted -- she just knew the universe conspired to make it happen. It wasn't until she told a guy in high school to "go fuck himself" that she finally realized there was something more to her words and her voice. That said, not everything she says is compelling -- Jackie has learned to hone "the voice" she uses to influence and beguile. In the meantime, it doesn't hurt she's gorgeous and well-liked. And that wasn't because she forced anyone to believe it... right?

Contrary to popular belief, she's not the type of siren that people think should be related to mermaids. They're more classically bird-women, but Jackie doesn't manifest any avian traits (apart from sometimes getting really sharp manicures, but that's purely aesthetic).

Jackie is skilled in vocal mimicry and even if she's not the world's best singer, her influencing abilities can be dangerous to weak-minded individuals. If she's swapped spit with you too, she's likely to have a stronger hold. If she's silenced, gagged, made to bite her own tongue, or deafened, her powers lose their effect.

Jackie also has synesthesia and can clearly see and distinguish the source of sounds (granted that they're not overpowering -- she can be prone to overstimulation).

Natalie Scatorccio: Dhampir

A cursed child often born of a vampiric father and a human mother. A mix of both worlds, belonging to neither. Natalie has always been an outcast in every sense of the word, right down to her very biology. And as she slowly learned the truth about her parentage, things began to become clearer. As vampiric offspring are wont to do, Nat was responsible for the death of her father, but it didn't do anything to solve her own affliction. It did, however, free her mother from his thrall -- but her mother still resents her daughter for what she did, even if it was ultimately a good thing.

As a dhampir, she has a weakened mix of the strengths and vulnerabilities as a vampire (though of course, stakes to the heart and decapitation will do the trick). Natalie is prone to sunburns and is sensitive to light, but is slightly stronger, faster, and more durable than humans. Religious iconography does still impact her, though she does not need invitation over thresholds and is not weak to running water.

Her blood and bile are toxic to full-blooded vampires, and her own appetite for carnage can mostly be suppressed, but she does still need to drink blood every so often, especially when injured or weak. (This is a mix of dhampir lore sources, I don't love when they're just All Vampire Awesomeness with No Weaknesses.)

Natalie will stop aging on a human timescale when she hits adulthood, if she lives that long. In the meantime, she indulges in nightlife, intoxicants, and other experiences to try to numb the pain and distract from the fact there's nowhere she truly belongs.

Misty Quigley: Hag-touched

She wasn't born a witch, and she's not innately magical. But Misty saw the sorts of powers that existed just beyond the fingertips of most normal lives and wanted some of it for herself. For those who aren't lucky enough to have natural magic, well, there's always a hag coven. Misty found a gathering of powerful women who were willing to make a bargain and bring the blonde into their society. And Misty prefers this type of wicked handiwork to simply waving fingers and casting spells. Just... don't leave strands of hair or fingernail clippings where she can find them for her "experiments".

Inspired by various hag folklore and D&D depictions, Misty's magic is based in exchange and component value -- she excels in curses, inconveniences, and changes in fortune, but she's not entire malevolent. She isn't wholly benevolent either, extracting some sort of price from those who seek her aid. And if they don't, she just has fun making whatever mischief she can -- often targeting individuals to whom she later proposes the solution to their woes.

Also, not all hags are old and ugly -- Misty resents that idea, thank you!

#v: it isn't evil/just hungry #eaternalyouth #survivher #forensickness #nirvanatalie #//yall i blame rae and arrow for giving me the brainworms #//i wasn't gonna do this sort of thing but how can i not #//shauna the psychopomp you are my EVERYTHING

[askaceattorney]

Mod Zieks Introductory

Greetings, denizens of the digital courtroom! Permit me to extend my salutations to all those who have graced this hallowed space with their presence. I am Barok van Zieks, the Reaper of the Bailey, and it is my distinct pleasure to inaugurate this digital chronicle dedicated to the venerable world of Ace Attorney. With a demeanor as somber as the Old Bailey itself, I embark upon the solemn duty of introducing this esteemed letter-answering blog, where the mysteries of the legal realm shall be unraveled with precision and sagacity.

But, to break character, hello! I’m glad to be joining the team here, and helping things around! I’ll be going by Mod Zieks, since in my opinion, he’s got to be the most well-designed character in the Great Ace Attorney games. But then again, I’m not willing to die on that hill, I just like how he looks.

I’m a digital artist, and Ace Attorney adoring fan. This will be a good way for me to connect with the community of A.A., and get a better feel for Tumblr.

A toast, to the new community, friends, and experiences that will be had along the way.

Can’t wait to start!

-Mod Zieks

#Mod Post #mod zieks #Mod Commentary #Our Mod Auditions are officially CLOSED #Welcome Mod Zieks

[happyanderes]

⚠︎Tomb much⚠︎

☎︎003-001

Yandere reaper (Kier) x GN reaper reader

⚠︎Warnings: Yandere, Violence on reader off screen, stalker-ish behavior, death

Another oldie, so no drawings for Kier either, but I’ll add it if I ever make a part two

The night was cloudless, only a chill breeze and bare trees with their black and brown branches pointing towards the dark night sky. The lush green that was supposed to be there is in deprivation from the harsh winter. Spring has yet to wake even in late March.

In a certain parking lot, in a certain car, through the black tinted windows of the car, if one decides to look close enough, they’ll find a dead corpse of a male in the silver Toyota.

But no one can see the lone soul and of the man and the lone reaper.

As you fill in the documents of assigning the soul into the loop of reincarnation in Norway, as per request, the soul asks.

“……Thank you, is this how things like this usually work?” He asks you as you seem to be looking for something in your pocket, now that you’re finished.

“Well, I actually don’t know,” you answer. “I just died about a month ago. When I woke up, I received all this knowledge in my head, and a tattoo.” You raise a wrist for the soul to see, it is a marking in the shape of a skull. “I only met another reaper when I was reaping a soul for a double suicide and I have to say……he’s odd.” You shiver at the thought of the man.

“He chased me through a city. Then he asked for my hand in marriage, when I told him I want to take it slow, he forced me to exchange numbers with him.” You complain while pulling a cracked phone and a small vile out, unlocking the phone to show him the bombardments of texts you received and is still receiving, mostly questions about how you’re doing and demands that you reply.

“99+ messages……? Oh, sorry I’m venting, please, drink this, this will delete your memories while I send you to reincarnation. Please be a good person, I don’t want to see you go to hell after this.”

The soul takes the vile and pops it open.

“I will try my best, again, thank you.” He says as he downs the potion in one go.

You stare as his somber expression disappears, replaced by a completely blank one.

Tabula rasa, a state of the human mind. People say newborns are usually in this state, yet you don’t believe in that, they have the factors of genes within, personality gifted by their parents through chromosomes, to be good or bad is partially coded in their physical body, but whether to act upon it or not takes the control of the soul.

This is the true blank state of mind, the one and only white board waiting to be drawn and filled with goods and bads. You mumble something in the soul’s ear.

“Memento Mori.” And with that, the soul, whom you no longer call a him disappears with a blinding light, leaving you in the car, with the corpse that once belonged to a now newborn, whose soul is now in the fjords of Norway.

You take a deep breath, finally, you’ve gotten quite a few indecent souls who went to hell today, and indecent souls never went down without a fight, so there are violent hydrangea colored bruises littering your body, you have yet to develop a physical build for fighting, so you rely on your poor magic to defend yourself. But that’s not something to trouble with right now, you have about twenty minutes till your next soul, so you took the liberty to lean back and enjoy the silence.

Finally, some peace

“—Why didn’t you read my texts?” The door on your side was yanked open violently as a mop of white hair pokes in. You hear a distant clank, he has tossed the car door away.

……you spoke too soon, you sat up and looked into your fellow reaper’s eyes, pitch black pupils staring back at you.

“I was busy, Kier.” You say as you rub your tired eyes.

“I don’t see you busy now!” He retorts with a furrow of his brows and a pout unfitting for his appearance. He is lithe, a bit bony, even. With unkempt white hair messily tied into a bun on the back of his head. On his pale face are bloodshot eyes and dark circles, perhaps he had pink lips and cheeks when he was alive, but now they’re just a shade of dead gray. He looks like he’s dead, which……isn’t completely wrong.

He wears a black tank top and orange cargo pants, an orange jacket tied around his waist as colorful tattoos litter his arms, and you can see a big one peeking through on the skin under his ripped clothes.

But that wasn’t what convinced you his status as a prisoner. It was the chains, wrapped around him to weigh him down, but also serve as a warning——this is a dangerous one.

“I just finished work……don’t you have work?” You ask.

He ignores your question completely as he takes hold of your arm and pulls you out of the car.

“We’re going on that date you promised me.” He says with a joyous smile as he pulls you along with him, a light skip in his steps as the pitter-patter of your footsteps echoes in the night.

You want to protest, but the moment he gave you a disapproving side glance, you shut your mouth.

And without a word, he begin to walk, slowly breaking into a little jog, then to a run.

As if chasing the moon, he pulls you through the road, running. “C’mon! It’s just gonna be a walk in the park!”

But the two of you didn’t walk, the first second you were staring at the unusually large moon, the next you were standing in the local park. Damn him and his skill in magic.

The night hidden behind a veil of darkness, showing only the moon and the lone stars scattered across the sky.

The trees gently danced in the wind, as they are the only signs of life around, you wonder why there is no one here. And as if sensing your curiosity, your companion answers.

“This is the dangerous part of the city, look.”

The feeling of his hand on your shoulder yank you out of your thoughts, an inaudible gasp left your lips as he chuckles instead.

Your eyes trail down his arm, to his pointer finger, following the invisible line he created as your eyes land on a vending machine, or the remains of one; The side of it has a large dent in it, you know a crowbar wound when you see it, even if it’s not on flesh.

The lights flicker on and off, almost all of the buttons for the drinks show a large “X” signaling that it’s “sold out”, even though probably no one paid for it.

You would say graffiti is a form of art, but here, on what’s left of this machine, it seems like messiness solidified, like the screams of souls when you catch a glimpse of hell.

Without saying anything, Kier strides towards the broken machine, white lights welcoming him with a little flicker……yet its dying breath is crushed under his combat boots as he lands a powerful kick to it, killing it off completely and denting it almost to an hourglass shape.

Liquids mix and sizzle, trickling down the machine like blood, your stomach churn at the sight, it reminds you too much of what you’ve been dealing with.

Then you see his hand dig inside of the dead body of the machine and pull out a few cans of drinks, the words were in Japanese, the cans dented here and there.

“Calpis? Who on earth would name their drink ‘cow piss’? pfft.” With a laugh and without a warning, he tosses the can at you (you barely caught it in time), and cracks his own open, taking a sip out of it, raising a brow. “This cow’s got diabetes.”

He gives you a look, knowing that he wants you to follow his actions, so you pop the can open, taking a sip out of it. It’s sweet but refreshing, slightly milky yet a bit acidic, similar to watered down yogurt.

As far as politeness goes, you drink quickly, Kier starts a conversation to which you only answer with hums, tying the ends of them quickly with an unbreakable knot called a period.

Time is up, finally, you get to leave as he takes your empty can, but as he does so, his forefinger hooks onto your thumb, that tall frame of his leans down to your height.

Those dark eyes stare straight into your own, his hair flowing in the wind like it has its own mind.

“How about now?”

Of course he wouldn’t forget that stupid question.

You lower your head, unable to meet his gaze, and weakly shake your head.

Not a word leaves his lips as his gaze continues to stay on your head, finally, an amused huff can be heard, and your tense shoulders sag a bit.

“Hmm……” behind this hum, you can hear his words. “Is that so?” lingers silently behind his teeth, but rings in your ears.

Kier seems to enjoy your fear as his lips split into a sinister smile, he lets go of your hand and holds onto the top and bottom of the cans. It looks so simple when he does it, the cylinders crushes into small plates.

A bad kind of shiver creeps up your spine, and he didn’t miss it.

“Tick tock, darling. We have all the time in the world, but……”

*clank*

The sound of the cans clanking on the concrete ground startles you, Kier the reaper is nowhere to be seen, as if he was never here.

You sink to the ground, knees weak as you sit there, almost forgetting that you have work in less than a minute.

You can only let out a shaky breath as you collect yourself, but he doesn’t let you have it, as an energetic ping of a text rings in the deadly night.

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