#IT'S THE CURSE OF HAVING A DISTRUSTFUL NATURE

[mikelogan]

It’s the curse of having a distrustful nature.

#law & order #law and order #law and order og #elizabeth olivet #dr elizabeth olivet #ben stone #eada benjamin stone #carolyn mccormick #michael moriarty #mygif #logif #law & order 3x09 #IT'S THE CURSE OF HAVING A DISTRUSTFUL NATURE #IM GOING TO JUMP OFF A BRIDGE!!!! #also i love liz so much no one look at me im very gay

[annabelle--cane]

I guess the thing that makes me not so fond of Jon's addiction allegory is that it's only coherent to a certain extent? Like I think people sometimes forget that he's actively violating these people

anon, through no fault of your own you have accidentally hit upon my sleeper agent trigger phrase. I have layers of answers to this.

so first off, yeah, it's not a 1:1 direct metaphor, it's a soupy dream logic fantasy plot device with flavors of a lot of different things. there's quite a lot of addiction in there, there's some abuse of power, there's some cyclical nature of trauma, there's a dash of disability, there's a few notes of gendered violence, there's a good bit of just. violence violence and being kind of a motherfucker because goddammit it feels good to be an active agent about something in your life, even if it's just choosing to be a worse version of yourself than you strictly need to be. a lot of tma's worldbuilding is very allegorical, but apart from aspects of individual statements nothing really matches up quite 1:1 with a real world counterpart, and if more things did then it probably wouldn't be a fantasy show anymore.

secondly. okay to contextualize this answer a little bit I have a kind of hypothetical video essay project about vampirism and addiction that I like to spend a few hours thinking about every so often but am almost certainly never going to make because the full research burden required is a lot higher than I actually have the time to properly do. but because of that I've spent a lot of time sorting through why framing vampires as addicts really works for me in a way that it doesn't seem to for everyone, and I think a lot of my thoughts on that also apply to jon. there's going to be a bit of a detour here before we get back to talking about tma, but we'll get there, I prommy.

I've seen a lot of people take issue with various paranormal addiction allegories because, a lot of the time, the act that is meant to metaphorically represent the act of use itself is something that is directly and inherently harmful to others, e.g. drinking human blood, handing over power to your hedonistic Evil alter ego, holding the cursed amulet and going crazy going stupid, slurping trauma out of the head of some guy you ran into on a boat to norway, etc., and yeah, I do get that. substance use is not inherently harmful like that to anyone except sometimes the user themself, and addicts are not inherently fucked up and destructive people; those are dangerous stereotypes that often lead to the demonizing of a whole group of sick people.

here's the thing for me, though: those are definitely truths I want explored and represented when it comes to portrayals of non-allegorical actual addicts, but fantasy fiction isn't for showing the world as it is, it's for showing a subjective fun house mirror version of reality where certain aspects are minimized and magnified depending on how it feels to live through it. and yes, absolutely in real life drug use is not an inherently evil act and it does not make you an inherently evil person, but... doesn't it kind of feel like that? sort of? absolutely no one is living their best life nor on their best behavior while experiencing any kind of major mental illness episode, and when it comes to addiction you've got a very clear tangible symbol of when The Episode is happening that it feels like you have much more control over than when it comes to other illnesses. it's also a thing where people are a lot more likely to be openly angry and distrustful of you if they find out it's happening. so you mix together the ideas of "I know I get worse as a result of doing this one specific thing" + "I act less like myself when I'm using, it rearranges my priorities and I care less about hurting people because that's what happens when you're experiencing The Horrors" + "society at large/people directly around me are pretty quick to say that doing this is evil," and you get the subjective emotional result of "I hurt people by using and it makes me monstrous." I tend to respond to those kinds of paranormal allegories like they're just cutting out the middle man of those subjective fears. "using makes me monstrous" -> "using is monstrous."

anyway. jon archivist.

don't get me wrong, I totally understand if this aspect of metaphor doesn't gel for some people and they only like taking it exactly as far as the text explicitly makes them, but I really get a lot out of reading jon's connection to the fears as addiction precisely because he does genuinely awful things to people as a result of it. he's a person in a very bad physical and mental place with little to no support who is constantly being told by both allies and enemies that he's already a monster just by being alive, and he copes with that by secretly falling further and further into an compulsive act of consumption that skews his priorities and makes him care less about hurting people because at least sometimes getting to be the cause of pain makes him feel a little bit less powerless when he has to be the subject of pain the rest of the time. then he's found out and is made to stop, and he has to grapple not just with the physical toll of withdrawal but with knowing there is a not insignificant part of him that will excuse any act of malice if he knows he'll feel better afterwards.

the end of tma is very explicit in the fact that the rules of its world are shaped by the subjective worst fears of those who live in it, it's "an exercise in unreliably reality" as jonny sims put it once, and I think that principle extends backwards in some ways to apply to the rest of the show. I don't think the fact that there are only entities of fear and not hope or love is meant to be a full commentary on the total nature of the real world, it's a reflection of what fear and suffering can make the world feel like. eric and melanie both go to really harsh extremes to extricate themselves from the fears and live peaceful lives, and in both cases something happens that foils their plans (getting murdered + the apocalypse, respectively), but I don't think the intended message is to say that is definitively how real life works, they are metaphors for the limits of individual agency in larger systems and represent two types of worst-case-scenarios. similarly, I don't think reading jon as an addict implies that addiction inherently involves violence or that the reactions of those around him were completely unjustified, it's just a subjective exploration of the kinds of fears that can come with addiction dialed up to 100.

#also to be clear after the first paragraph I'm using 'you' in a general sense not directly to You The Anon Who Sent This #I'm not trying to insinuate anything about whether You The Anon Who Sent This does or doesn't have any experience w substance use #tma #answered #anons

[moonlight-shadxw]

Have chthonic God midas,

I'll explain below how he got here based on the sequence of events I have for him, also, it only makes sense after getting ascendant midas to get ascendED midas, right ???

The myth of the Golden Touch is accurate to a certain extent ; asking Dionysus for everything to turn to gold as a reward for his good deed eventually leads him to realize this power was more of a curse than anything else ー food, water and people all turned to gold, Including his daughter.

King Midas would then implore the deity to free him from this curse, who responds to his prayer by telling him that if his hands are dipped in the river of Pactolus, then the effects would be reversed.

And this is where the reality diverged from the Myth :

Midas attempts to save his daughter by dipping her into the river, but instead, as soon as his hands touch the water, the sands, the very essence of the water and anything else around would turn to gold.

Horrified, Midas knows now that he has been tricked by the deity, Who never even intended to help him, so to punish him for his greed.

What Midas doesn't know is that nothing can really stop the curse, aside from being fully blind, because then, if he cannot see the gold, then is it really gold.ᐣ

Midas is then helped by his servants to limit the effects of the Golden Touch, while his disdain for Gods grows immensely.

After his death, Midas is reincarnated several generations later as the current Midas, who has enough control over his Golden Touch. The same would apply to his eyes, if he were to be legally blind, then the effects of the curse would be nullified, something he doesn't know.

Hence why, even with a cut off hand, the curse would endure through the prosthetic as long as he can touch something.

He retains the same personality, distrustful, haughty, disdainful, and especially towards those who have habits and traits similar to Dionysus.

Considering Dionysus' punishment, his powers stop working when he stops seeing. That means, he doesn't need to lose sight permanently for it to stop working, but losing sight temporarily is also effective.

As in, his powers don't work when he's asleep. They won't either if he's unconscious. They won't if he's blindfolded. As long as he CANNOT see / visualize the gold, then he cannot use his powers. Midas possesses another curse, that of immortality, not in the sense that he cannot die, but that he simply cannot stay dead. It comes from the fact he touched the waters of the river of Pactolus.

Aside from not being able to wash away the gold on his hands, his own touch fused with the properties of the river since, meaning that ever since that incident, his curses both kept feeding off of one another and growing simultaneously.

If he had less control over what he touches, then with each death, he'd grow more capable of controlling it.

If he had to die, then either he'd naturally be reborn after a specific set of time ( 150 years ), or he can be revived, or finally return from the dead with sheer power alone.

That means that with each iteration of himself, his power of adaptation grows, his memories from each death stack up and his knowledge and understanding extend.

But with each iteration, he will have to learn new things about himself. There is always going to be something different about himself that he needs to figure out and remediate to. Eventually, it means that Midas' curse pushed his status farther than mere human, and yet not enough to be a God ー at this point, he could've reached the status of Demi-God.

The major downside of this curse is the fact that he will eternally live between life and death, With no real way to allow his soul any rest ; coupled with the golden touch, these two can either work together or fight against one another.

Hence why, for the moment, the gold coming from his hands is ` immortal ` too, meaning that it will not stop even if a limb were To be lost. After getting killed by Thorne once more as a demi-god, his soul was split between mortal and divine.

Hades wished to put an end to the fate meddling that Thorne engaged in by messing with timelines, and by ascending Midas to divinity, it would put an end To this loop and fate troubling.

Midas would then become the God of riches, greed, prosperity and failure, with a cat as symbolic animal.

Additionally, depending on how angry he gets, the things he touch can turn to molten gold.

His own blood is scorching hot, and gold.

#Midas #Midas fanart #Fortnite midas #Fortnite fanart #Midas fortnite fanart

[whereianonymouslypostfics]

Negotiations

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader

Word count: ~4k

Summary: You sneak out one night

A/N: Sorry y'all, I'm in an angsty mood

Warnings: Angst, relationship troubles (distrust and such), sneaky behavior.

You’re trying to ignore how sweaty your palms are, and you quickly reach for your drink to try and hide it. The condensation from the glass of course makes it worse and you hold back the urge to curse as you check your phone for the time.

It’s 8:15pm.

Usually at this time of night you would be at home with your wife and dog finishing up dinner, or more likely sitting on the couch in the living room. After dinner you walked the dog before settling beside your wife to cuddle while watching something mindless on TV. If Wanda got her way, it would be a sitcom with a laugh track that you hear in your sleep sometimes, but if you’re lucky, you’d start to doze off to a nature documentary before Wanda drags you upstairs.

You would much rather be at home with her, but you had something you needed to take care of first.

You are only a few seconds away from checking the time again when you feel a cold hand on your upper arm, and you have to stop yourself from bristling from the touch.

“Y/n Y/l/n. I didn’t think you would show.”

As you turn to greet the woman who’s been on your mind and the bane of your existence for weeks, you fight the urge to grimace. It had been a mistake to get involved with her, and you knew it from the very beginning, but you were desperate. One of your character flaws was that you were damn stubborn, and when you wanted something badly enough you couldn’t help but go for it.

You try to offer a sincere smile, but you’re tense and she can tell as she sits down on the barstool beside you and reaches out for your drink. You don’t mind that she’s finishing it because you don’t even want it, but you don’t like the message that it sends. You’re trying to be as incognito as possible with this arrangement. You waited to meet until a night that you knew Wanda would be working late, and then you’d left the house under the guise of going grocery shopping. You then ditched Bucky by sneaking out the back of the store and walking three blocks to this hotel bar where you’d agreed to meet.

You hated lying, but there really was no way around it. If anyone found out what you were up to, you’d be in deep shit and you didn’t want to deal with that. You couldn’t explain why you were being so needlessly reckless except for maybe to blame your determination.

This had to work.

You only take a moment to glance at the blonde’s outfit before you sit up a little straighter and offer an only slightly forced smile.

“Rosalie. Thank you for meeting with me. I’ve been looking forward to this all week.”

Wanda sighs in exhaustion as she arrives home to a dark house a little after 9pm. She stifles a yawn as she rolls into the garage only to do a double take when she sees that your car isn’t there. She quickly reaches for her phone to call you, but by the time she walks into the house you still haven’t answered. When Boone comes up to greet her, the call’s gone to voicemail and Wanda just hangs up with an annoyed huff. She scratches Boone for a second longer as she glances at the clock to confirm that it’s way too late for you to be out.

Bucky responds almost immediately and Wanda’s hand stops mid-scratch as she reads his message.

She went to the grocery store near Glendale but she’s been in there for an hour. I’m going to check on her.

Wanda has no idea why you would drive so out of your way to go shopping so late at night. Admittedly sometimes you had weird cravings, but this was odd even for you. Despite often losing track of time in a grocery store, Wanda figures that at such a late hour you would be in and out for whatever you wanted.

She decides to wait until Bucky finds you to respond, and she heads toward the kitchen to find some leftovers to eat. She hopes to be able to claim to have eaten dinner by the time you get home so you won’t get upset with her. When she has late nights like these, sometimes she forgets to eat and she comes home without having eaten for over 14 hours.

She can barely focus on dinner as she tries to patiently wait for Bucky’s response. She can imagine him finding you wandering around aimlessly as you try to figure out what food you’re craving. She’s had to drag you from several grocery stores when you’ve done this for over 30 minutes, and she’s almost wishing that you’d waited so she could have done this tonight.

Twenty minutes later, Wanda’s only had a couple of bites to eat before her phone rings. She sees that its Bucky, and she doesn’t hesitate to answer it as she takes a deep breath. She’s sure he’d found you roaming the candy aisle.

“Hey Bucky.”

Bucky is near sweating as he speed-walks up and down the aisles of this too cold grocery store. He’s looked for you for nearly 20 minutes, and he’s run around the store like a lunatic to the point of worrying that someone is going to call the cops. He’s tried calling you only to have it go to voicemail, and he doesn’t know what else to do. He stops by the ice cream for a moment before pulling out his phone to call Wanda. He has a feeling that you aren’t here, but he’s not sure if he believes that you’ve been taken. There was no one suspicious here except him, and after speaking with a disinterested cashier, he figures nothing sketchy went down.

As he waits for Wanda to answer, he tries to figure out what the hell you were up to.

The smile you receive in return makes you wish you’d said anything else, but it’s too late to take it back now. You decide to ignore your discomfort and get right down to business because you’re sure this will take a while. Wining and dining someone takes tact and patience, neither of which you are in possession of tonight. After leading Rosalie from the bar to a secluded booth in the back, you wait for a waiter to take your next drink orders before taking a deep breath.

“I really do appreciate you being here, Rosalie. I’m not sure what I would do without your help.”

Although you know that you’re feeding her enormous ego, you have to kiss her ass to get her to agree to your proposition. You know that under normal circumstances you wouldn’t have been this successful in your campaign. That said, your chance meeting with this woman who was capable of making you so happy was something you couldn’t overlook or take for granted. You aren’t even sure that she knew who you were before flirting with you, but that was of no consequence to you. If anything, it helped your chances.

You’re reminded of this as the blonde not-so-subtly, looks you up and down while you wait for your appetizer. You take a deep breath behind your glass when she’s distracted, and you pray that this all works out.

When Rosalie offers you a near-predatory smile you realize that you’re going to have to take it up a notch.

“What can I say? You made a very appealing offer, Y/n.”

When Bucky had called to tell her that you weren’t in the grocery store, Wanda had been opening the app on her phone to track you before he could even ask. For safety reasons, you and Wanda had your locations turned on your phones. Wanda had insisted and despite arguing that you never went anywhere other than work, the store, or home without her, you acquiesced. You’d had nothing to hide and you did sometimes check and see where Wanda was occasionally, only to wonder what she was doing on late nights away from home.

Wanda’s frown deepened when she’d realized that your phone was turned off. The last place it had been on at was the store, and now Wanda was oscillating between pissed and worried.

What were you up to?

“Oh really? You must have the cutest pictures!”

You smile widely because you really do and you’re already reaching for your phone to find some when you remember why you’d switched it off.

While you and Rosalie ate dinner, conversation had luckily transitioned to your work and more specifically your patients. This was something you were comfortable talking about, and honestly you could go on and on about your adorable patients. That said, you hesitated long enough for Rosalie to notice, and her brow furrows slightly in question.

“What’s wrong? Do you have other photos on there that you don’t want me to see?”

You can’t help but blush, and you poorly conceal it with a cough as you shake your head and turn on your phone. You’ll make it quick before powering it down again. It will be fine.

You reach out for your fork to take another bite before you shake your head with small smile.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

After showing off the last few adorable patients you’ve seen, you steer the conversation back to the reason why you’d invited Rosalie to dinner in the first place. You try to push down your discomfort of asking for something from someone, but you think about the puppies before you meet Rosalie’s expectant gaze.

“So have you thought anymore about my proposition?”

After checking continuously for nearly half an hour, she jumps when your blue dot appears on the map. She watches it move not far from where it had been earlier before she calls Bucky back. He’s been searching nearby buildings while she waited impatiently, but now she was going to look for you because she was beyond angry.

“Bucky, I found her.”

Wanda pauses as she zooms in on the map for a precise location. When she sees where you are, her breath catches in her throat and she just stares for a few long seconds.

“Yeah? Where is she?”

Wanda still doesn’t answer right away. She’s trying to come up with a logical reason for you to be where you are. Anything but the worst-case scenario. Wanda clears her throat before shaking her head and speaking through clenched teeth.

“She’s at the hotel off of 5th. I’ll meet you there.”

You’re taking another bite of cheesecake, blissfully unaware of the storm that’s headed your way as you and Rosalie share a companionable silence.

She’d agreed to your terms and you were near giddy with excitement. That said, you were still aware enough to remember your manners, and you slide the plate toward the blonde with a teasing smile before setting your own fork down.

“Please. Eat the rest. I think you’ve more than earned it.”

Rosalie smiles and only tries to argue with you for a moment before she gives in. You could eat this slice and maybe three more, but you realize how late it’s getting, and you’re almost certain you’ll barely beat Wanda home. It’s nearing 11, but the fact that even Wanda’s early ‘late nights’ are rarely before 1am is enough to relax your nagging nerves.

It only takes a few more minutes for you two to wrap things up. You foot the bill because it’s the least you can do, and then you’re going your separate ways. You wait until Rosalie is out of sight before you near run to the exit. You don’t dare turn on your phone, but your watch is telling you that you need to hurry.

Wanda’s staring at the sky trying to calm herself down when you come running out the front doors of the hotel. She’s settled on the steps out front, sitting on one of the stone banisters as she tries to understand what she’s feeling.

She and Bucky had arrived and it had only taken a few minutes to spot you. When Wanda had seen you sharing dessert with a woman who was smiling at you adoringly, well she almost lost it. She stared at you for just long enough to convince herself that she wasn’t mistaken, before she stormed back outside and planted herself in this spot.

She had sent Bucky back to your car to make sure you didn’t sneak by her, but she figures it’s unnecessary. She mostly did it to be alone and shed a few tears without him watching. She had a feeling you’d walk right out the front door, and then she’d confront you. She just had to figure out what to say.

She almost misses you fly by her and her gaze snaps towards you with a vicious glare that’s wasted on you. She ignores the fact that you’re getting further away and she stays exactly where she is as she calls out to you.

“Hurrying home to someone?”

You think you’re hallucinating when you hear your wife’s voice when you’re halfway across the street. You stop in your tracks, stiffening in surprise before you dare to turn around to confirm your suspicions. You’ve never had any luck at keeping secrets from your wife, so you’re not sure why you thought this time would be different.

Despite being over 20 feet away, you’re sure Wanda can hear your audible gulp as you turn to face her.

“Needlessly it seems. You’re already here.”

Now despite your actions tonight, you’re not an idiot, and you know what’s about to happen. You consider how you’d feel about seeing Wanda in your shoes tonight. It might be slightly different because she has more of a reason to meet random, beautiful women at hotel bars, but for a moment you suspend your disbelief and consider how angry you’d be at her. At least half as angry as Wanda appears to be with you now. You walk deliberately towards her, and do your best not to flinch at her furious expression. You nearly startle when she jumps down the stairs and meets you on the sidewalk with a scowl.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

You can’t help but flinch and you think it makes Wanda even madder because her glare honestly makes you want to run and hide. You can’t remember the last time she’s been mad at you, actually mad, but you’re sure this is much, much worse. Unfortunately, in your infinite wisdom you dare to shrug before providing the worst answer possible.

“I was meeting someone.”

Wanda’s eyes flash as she remembers the beautiful blonde that had been looking at you like she wanted to take you upstairs. Her words come out as a snarl and you actually start to sweat as Wanda steps toward you.

“No shit. Who the fuck is she, Y/n?”

You realize, belatedly, that maybe this hadn’t been the best plan. Sure, you’d waited for an ideal night, or so you’d thought, but there had to be a better way. Clearly. It had to be possible to have pulled this off without getting caught. Right?

You sigh in defeat before you realize that there’s no way to lie yourself out of this one. You know Wanda’s going to be hurt, but you just have to say it. What was the point of dragging it out any further?

You run a hand through your hair and nearly roll your eyes at the fact that your ring snags on one of the knots. Figures.

“Her name is Rosalie Evans. She’s a donor who’s just pledged $10 million to help renovate the animal shelter.”

You and Wanda stand in silence as you let your wife process what you’ve said. You can tell by the look on your face that she’s trying to decide if she believes you, but after a near agonizing three minutes in silence, she just shakes her head. She walks past you with a huff, and you’re equal parts relieved and disappointed that she barely says anything in response.

“Come on. We’re not talking about this here.”

Despite Wanda’s desire to storm back into the hotel and find the blonde you’d been with; she knows there’s no point. She has a feeling the blonde is long gone, but that doesn’t mean she’s not going to have Bucky look into her right this second.

The trip home is made in separate cars and it’s silent for both of you. You’re lost in thought and Wanda’s waiting to get confirmation from Bucky that you weren’t just lying to her face. It comes only minutes from arriving home, but still the news that you’d been out with a rich, beautiful, animal lover didn’t sit well with her.

She slams her car door so hard the house almost shakes, and she waits impatiently as you pull into your spot before getting out as slowly as possible without ticking her off more.

She storms into the house, and you just have to follow her as she ignores Boone and immediately heads to the deck. You scratch your dog a few times as you trail behind your wife, but you leave him inside as you follow Wanda back out into the dark.

“Were you on a date just now?”

Despite expecting the question, you still can’t stop your initial reaction at the mere thought of doing something like that to Wanda. You would admit that you had been selfish and that you’d used Rosalie, but dammit if you weren’t desperate for the money.

“No, Wanda.”

You barely say her name before she spits her next question with such disgust that you instantly feel like a horrible person.

“Did she think it was a date?”

It never ceases to amaze you how smart your wife is. She’s always so many steps ahead of you that it would be embarrassing if you hadn’t already accepted that she was a genius. It’s only times like these, when you’re in trouble, that you truly regret this fact.

You don’t really know the answer to this, and you don’t take long to consider it before you shake your head. Wanda’s still facing away from you, and you can’t help but feel ashamed by this. She’s so angry that she can’t even look at you.

“I don’t know. It didn’t come up.”

This was technically true. That said, you would have let her believe that it was a date if it had gotten you the money. Is this what a gold digger did? Suddenly your self-respect tanks further at the thought.

Wanda doesn’t respond immediately as she considers all of her options. She’s still plenty mad at you for this, but she has to admit that by seeing this woman, you didn’t technically do anything wrong. That said, the way you went about it had been sketchy as hell, and she wants you to know that she doesn’t appreciate it in the slightest.

“Why did you go behind my back like this? Why not just tell me what you planned on doing?”

Wanda’s trying not to be angry about the fact that you’d snuck out of the house on a night that she’d specifically told you she would be late coming home. How you ditched Bucky to sneak away and make sure nobody was the wiser. She rolls her eyes at the thought of you pulling this off.

You have sat down at this point because you’re exhausted and you’re tired of staring at your wife’s back. You huff in frustration before you shake your head with a groan. You’re such an idiot sometimes.

“Because I didn’t want you to know what I was doing.”

You knew what question was coming next, so you tried to beat Wanda to it as she finally spun around to face you. You’d wished she’d stayed facing away from you instead. You would have preferred it to the glare she was shooting you.

“Of course not! You were practically on a date with this woman, and for what? For-?”

“For money!”

You’re back on your feet as you rip out some of your hair when your hand gets stuck again. You squeeze your eyes shut before you take a deep breath and try to calm down. You meet Wanda’s suspicious gaze and you feel your shoulders drop.

“I needed her to agree to the donation. I’ve only been trying to convince her for weeks. I-I needed the money, Wanda.”

Your wife simply scoffs before she crosses her arms and levels you with a look that hides how hurt she is. If you’d needed money so badly, why hadn’t you just asked her? Why had you needed to literally grovel to this woman you barely knew when she could have helped you easily? She asks this and your face says it all. Wanda almost wishes, for a millisecond, that you’d been having an affair instead.

“I couldn’t ask you Wanda. It couldn’t come from you. I needed the donation to be public. For campaigning purposes.”

Wanda suddenly realizes why you’d gone to so much trouble to keep this from her. You both often donated to various causes that you felt strongly about. Unsurprisingly, number one on your list was animals. You’d given countless donations to shelters and other rescues in the areas so they could keep helping stray animals. That said, sometimes you knew that an anonymous donation just wouldn’t cut it.

When the projects were larger and they required the help of many donors, you wished that you could be one of them without causing suspicion. Despite making good money at work, no one would believe that you could give $3 million without batting an eye. It just didn’t make sense. You also knew that since everyone thought you were married to someone named ‘Linda’; you couldn’t have Wanda donate either.

That and the fact that she’s a known criminal.

That wouldn’t go over well.

So you’d tried to go behind her back to accomplish your goal of getting money while sparing her feelings. She’s still mad at you, but she seems to deflate when she feels the familiar pang of disappointment that accompanies moments like this. Sometimes she thinks she’s failed you. Sometimes she desperately wishes that she could have had any other occupation as long as it was legal. At least then she would be able to support you more readily, more publicly.

She doesn’t realize she’s stared off into space berating her past self for her career choices until she feels your hand on her shoulder. She blinks before realizing that you’re standing right in front of her with an apologetic look. She suddenly feels exhausted, and she doesn’t want to talk about this anymore. She doesn’t want to think about beautiful blondes or not being able to help you with your selfless pursuits.

“I’m sorry, Wands. I should have told you.”

Wanda shakes her head as she sighs in defeat and walks past you toward your barking dog. She ignores the frustrated tears that are streaming down her face, and she hopes you can’t hear them in her voice as she lets Boone run past her so she can sneak upstairs while you’re distracted.

“It’s fine, Y/n. I get it.”

Wanda disappears up the stairs as you chase after Boone to get him to come back inside. It’s far too late for this and you quickly steer him back in the house before locking up and heading up the stairs. You need to follow Wanda and try to convince her that she shouldn’t feel bad about any of this. You’re the one who went behind her back. You thought that it would be worth it, but even the thought of $10 million doesn’t make the idea of trying to make amends with your wife any less daunting.

Masterlist

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda x you #silver springs #silver springs drabble #mob au

[arabellasleopardcoat]

Pyrite - Final Chapter: Valonqar

Series Masterlist

Chapter Summary: Daemon gets to know the joys of quarantine and faces conflicting feelings in the hours after Otto's and Mellos’ execution.

Warnings: Execution (Via beheading) Mentions of abortion. Mentions of physical violence. Dub con (Reader is given a choice but due to the nature of the power imbalance between Daemon and her, she doesn't really have one)Implied smut. Unhappy ending for anyone except Viserys.

A/N: I am sorry to the requester, I deviated a bit. But we are done!!!!

Daemon grabbed you by the arm and dragged you towards his chambers. He was not happy about being on babysitting duty, but he knew it was the only thing they could do. Without his protection, you would not last a day out there. He had been able to read the truth from your face after just one conversation. Otto Hightower was much more shrewd than him, you would break in seconds.

He supposed Aemma could keep you in her rooms and prevent the scandal. But privately, Viserys had confessed he feared she had gone mad with grief. He did not trust her to be in the same room as you without clawing your eyes out. Daemon did not understand her actions, since you had tried to help her, but he wasn't a mother either. Aemma seemed traumatized by her child's death.

She cursed your name for having your letter arrive too late. Daemon was not a woman. Nor did he presume to know the mind of one, but it seemed a little unfair. You had looked out for her at your own risk, yet Aemma still wanted more.

Viserys could not keep you, either. He was too afraid for his reputation, now that he was about to become a King. What would people think of a servant girl being kept in his rooms?

He didn't admit it, of course, saying that he was only looking out for your honor, but Daemon could tell that Viserys lusted for the throne. Now that he was so close, that he had lost so much on his quest for it, he was not going to lose it for an insignificant girl.

If he truly cared for your reputation, Viserys would have never agreed to keeping you in Daemon's chambers. Who would marry you, after? Everyone knew what Daemon liked, after all. Young maidens, all soft limbs and cute little faces, all for him to ruin. What commoner would want you after being a Prince's whore?

He wasn't planning on touching you, at first. But the way you looked up at him, all frightened eyes, while sitting on one of his chairs, made his cock twitch with interest.

You were a pretty crier. It was something Daemon had noticed when you were discovered. Your eyes would get glassy, and your lower lip would stick out in the slightest pout. You looked good enough to eat.

He could not wait to see you cry on his cock. But if he acted too soon, you would hate him for it. And they needed to be in your good graces so you didn't do anything stupid on the trial.

It was going to be hard, Daemon thought, as he took a look at your face. Aemma had done a number on you, and his retrieval hadn't been entirely gentle either.

You sniffled, pitifully. Daemon kneeled in front of you with a sigh.

“Let me look at your head.”

You gave him a distrustful look.

“I am not going to hurt you. I want to tend to your injuries.” He explained, patiently.

“For some reason, I don't believe you.” You frowned. “Give me a cloth and I can do it myself, Prince Daemon.”

Daemon fought the urge to laugh. Who did you think you were, ordering him around? Instead, he grabbed a cloth and a pitcher of water, and brought them over to you.

You wiped your hands and face with it. Daemon watched, aware that you would not be able to clean the wound on your head on your own. You tried regardless, dabbing a clean cloth over your scalp, trying to reach blindly for the spot that was oozing blood.

He kept his eyes on you, not interfering until you were visibly frustrated.

“Do you need help?”

“No.” You glared, rubbing at your scalp harshly. Daemon stepped closer and took the cloth from you, ignoring your indignant squeaks. He assessed the damage to the back of your skull.

Your hair, braided back as it was, was matted with blood. He was unable to see much, but it seemed to have stopped flowing.

“I will unbraid your hair to look at the wound.” Daemon warned, and started taking your braid apart.

You went very still on your chair, as he untangled sticky hair strands from each other. Your braid was simple, but well constructed. It was clear that you knew quite a bit about how to do your own hair, considering the softness of it. It didn't feel like the hair of any other commoner Daemon had ever felt before. A shame it was caked in blood. He would have to ensure you got a bath soon.

As he parted your hair, shifting it in different directions, he noticed the small laceration on your skull. Nothing was showing through it, not even bone. Daemon knew that was a good sign. It was sizable enough to merit stitches, though.

“I will need to sew this. Do you need milk of the poppy?” He asked, as he went to collect thread and needle from his vanity. A Maester should be the one doing this, and he doubted he had the necessary qualifications to do so, but at the moment, Daemon had no other choice. He didn't trust anyone.

“Do you even know how to sew wounds, my Prince?” You asked, looking at him over your shoulder. It was a fair question, had he not been a squire a few years back. Daemon had earned his knighthood not so long ago, and he still vividly remembered his training.

“I am a knight, girl.” Daemon rolled his eyes. It wasn't as if he styled his name with the title, like some other cunts did, but he still was one. “Do you know what that means?”

“That you are supposed to uphold your oaths, my Prince?” And oh, how sweet. You truly were a naive little thing. It was no wonder you had charged into danger as you had, if you still believed in that bullshit. To Daemon, knights were just like any other men. No more honorable nor more just. Oaths could be broken, after all.

“Yes. But also that I was a squire. I have sewn a few wounds before, including my own.” But never a head wound, he thought to himself. Ah, what you did not know wouldn't hurt you. If he told you, you would insist on a Maester. Daemon couldn't risk it. No one could know you were here.

“I rather be awake, my Prince.”

“Suit yourself.” He stepped behind you and pressed down on your nape, getting you to lower your head. Daemon made sure you were still before starting sewing.

With each pass of the needle, you tensed more. It was a foolish thing to do, only increasing your pain.

“Don't tense. The pain is worse like that.” He advised, and kept at it. You obeyed, forcing your body to relax. It still looked like you were sitting rigidly on the chair, but you weren't clenching your jaw any longer.

As Daemon progressed, he kept a close eye on your reactions. Knuckles turning white against the armchair, breath coming out in pained little sounds. But no tears fell. Had you cried them all already? Or were you too proud to show your pain to him?

With you unmoving, it was not difficult to finish your stitches. He took a step back, admiring the white thread decorating your skull. It contrasted harshly against the red of your blood. Daemon felt oddly proud of it.

“You can have the bed tonight.” He grumbled, annoyed. Why did he feel the need to help you, suddenly? Playing nice was one thing, but why was he feeling bad? It had only been a hit to the back of the head. He had done much worse when dueling men. Drew more blood, severed more limbs. Even took their lives.

But you were a woman. A girl, really. Around his age, and vulnerable to the world. It felt uncomfortably like hurting a child. Why? What made you special? He had taken quite a few maidenheads already, and not even then he had felt like this. You looked like a wounded bird.

“What if I get blood on your sheets?”

“The servants are used to it.” The joke felt flat on his tongue. He gave you a wink, but his heart wasn't in it. Daemon could not stand another second in this room with you, reeking of pain and staring at him with those betrayed eyes. Better to head out and hit the city. He needed to numb himself. And by the time you were up, he would just be getting in.

Daemon allowed you to exist undisturbed in his room for almost a week. He provided water for you to bathe, and fresh clothes for you to change into. The routine stayed the same. He went out at night, and you slept in his bed. When you woke, you had to get out of it and entertain yourself so he could sleep.

He usually enjoyed a night out. But the constant whoring and drinking was beginning to tire him, especially since it was affecting his training. There were only so many brothels he could visit before noticing he was unsatisfied with the stock their carried because not one of them looked like you.

Ugh. The urge to fuck you was messing with his head, making him unfocused. Daemon had actually lost a sparring match this week, but he was unsure if it was from a lack of sleep or being plagued by thoughts of you.

He needed to get you out of his system. He had enough. You no longer looked like a wounded little bird. It was time to make his move.

That night, Daemon decided to skip the brothels. He sat on his bed, freshly bathed after training, and just watched you stew.

You were sitting on a pillow in the corner of his room, some books spread out around you. They were part of his small collection on Valyrian herbs. You were wearing your night shift already, and sneaking glances at him every few minutes.

He was breaking your unspoken arrangement, you sure thought. Daemon was supposed to leave so you could sleep. A shame it was not happening tonight.

“Girl.” He said, once he had enough of watching you squirm. “Pour me a glass of wine.”

You looked at him. You gave an annoyed little huff. Even if you did not dare voice it, Daemon could see the protest in your eyes. You were not used to serving men, from what he could tell. Nor were you used to serving wine. You thought yourself above those tasks, one of those fancy handmaidens that only brush hair and run baths.

And it showed. Sure, you were tidy and didn't make a mess of his rooms, but you didn't help either. You had not reached for a broom in your whole stay, or dusted anything. If he wasn't a tidy person, the place would be as unsanitary as a cheap brothel.

It had never bothered him before, not being able to call for a servant to clean his rooms. But it now did. He tried not to think very hard about why that was. It didn't mean anything. Your presence did not upset him. He was just bothered by the fact that you were like a leech.

Daemon had no use for you. His space was being invaded by a girl with unsettling eyes, who acted as if this was her prison and did not contribute at all. Anyone would be bothered by it. Right?

Anyone would be done with it. Daemon would rather behead Otto and end it all. But apparently, you could not just behead one of your subjects, or everyone started talking about Maegor the cruel.

“I do not have any use for a commoner.” Daemon stated, plainly. He advanced towards you, grasping your chin in his hand. “Do you understand what will happen to you if I kick you out?”

“I'll die.” Your voice shook. Daemon scowled. He didn't like the thing that you were doing with your eyes.

“Then you best try to please me, right?” He ran his thumb over your cheek. “Wouldn't want me to hand you over.”

You shook your head. You went and poured him his wine.

“I don't like your eyes.” Daemon said, impatiently. “Try to smile more.”

You gave him a weak smile. It set the tone for the rest of your interactions. You were a clumsy cup bearer, and took badly to sleeping on the floor. Daemon had to constantly snap at you to wipe the sad look from your face. It looked ugly, and the only good thing you had to your favor were your looks. That was why his stomach twisted when he caught you thinking of home or your family.

When the day of the trial came, you looked relieved. You managed to give your testimony without any issue, and his grandfather ruled in their favor. Aemma gets her revenge, with the King allowing Viserys to bring the head of Ser Otto and Mellos to his wife. He can't bring himself to do it, so it's Daemon who swings the sword instead.

Otto Hightower kneels for his execution with great grace. He sends Daemon a glare, but doesn't say a word. Mellos, on the other hand, screams and pleads all the way up the steps to the block.

Daemon gets a sick sort of satisfaction when he sees them both kneeling at his feet. Is this what being King feels like? He wonders, as he shares a secret smile with Aemma, who stands in the first row of the crowd. The power to hurt those who have wronged you.

Next to Aemma, you stand. You look pale and fidgety, but the grip she has in your arm prevents you from escaping. It's only fair, she had said, that you get to witness the King's justice you helped bring. You don't seem excited about it.

“Any last words?” Daemon asks, as he unsheathes Dark Sister.

“Please, don't, this has been a mistake!” Mellos screams. Daemon waits patiently. When nothing more than incoherent sobs come out from his mouth, Daemon glances up at his grandfather.

King Jaehaerys looks grim, but determined. He nods. Daemon takes Mellos’ head with one clean swoop of his sword. The head rolls into the basket with straw, preventing the blood from running everywhere. The eyelids still move. The crowd gasps, and Daemon feels strangely empty.

“I am ready for my last words now.” The Hightower cunt says, with a firm voice. Daemon can't help be both annoyed and impressed by it. Most men, like Mellos, would be shitting themselves in fear. But Ser Otto remains calm and regal, even when he knows he is about to face death.

“Speak.”

“Good pious people, I have come here to die, for according to the law and by the law I am judged to die. I do not wish to accuse any man or woman, for if the King says I am to die, I shall. I only ask that my actions are judged fairly in the years to come, and no harm comes to my family. Let it not be that the crimes of the father follow the son. I take my leave of this world and ask you to pray for me. To the Seven I commend my soul, please, Stranger, have mercy on me.”

And maybe it was the hypocritical speech, or the fact that Otto Hightower was the mastermind behind the plot to hurt his family, but this time Daemon swing his sword with much more force than necessary. The head rolls out of the box and into the crowd, falling near the first row, among horrified screams.

Right at your feet.

You turned and left. And Daemon stood, with his bloodied sword, still near the executioner's block.

There is a feast after. One that you are not allowed to attend. Nothing so crass as to celebrate the death of the two criminals, but rather, the settling of the succession issue. The plot, even if it had to do nothing with Rhaenys, had been damaging enough to doom her hopes of being Queen.

It is then, high on victory and still wearing a dirtied sword, that Daemon decides to use his power over you. It's not a conscious choice. There is something in him that broke tonight, something to do with a severed head and your look of disgust, and the cheers of Aemma and Viserys. It's something about feeling empty, when having the world at his fingertips.

He is soon to be the Prince of Dragonstone. With Viserys lack of heirs, he might even become King one day, if he doesn't set aside Aemma and finds himself a younger wife.

Daemon wonders if Aemma realizes how precarious her position has turned, now that she got her revenge. If she had kept quiet, if she had let Rhaenys get the Iron Throne, her position would be secure. The Arryns would not allow Viserys to put her aside.

But now, that her husband will be King, she will never be safe. Queens fall every day, as Rhaenys has learned. It seems it is time for Aemma to learn that lesson.

You are packing your things when he gets there. Clothes and a small collection of trinkets from the time you had spent by his side. It enrages him. You can't leave. Not when you are the only person who can understand what these weeks have been like. The only one who knows exactly the kind of monster Viserys has turned him into.

“Where are you going?” It comes out more aggressive than he intends to, but you no longer cower at his voice.

“I don't know.” You meet his eyes and keep your voice soft. “Away, my Prince.”

“No, you are not.” Daemon orders, and leaves Dark Sister laying on the rug. The blood rusts the blade, but what does it matter, at this point? If you are leaving, he can call a maid tomorrow. If you are not, everyone can know you as his whore. “Pour me some wine.”

You obey, in silence. Your hands shake slightly.

“Pour yourself a cup, too.” Daemon says, patting the space by his side. You sit, very stiffly.

“Well done.” Daemon says. You give him a little nod. “Now take your dress off.”

“Excuse me?” You jump up so fast, you might as well have never been sitting. Your hands ball by your side, an indignant expression clear on your face.

“Come on, girl. You are not that stupid.” Daemon rolls his eyes. He has protected you for nearly a fortnight, let you take his bed and food and not even once touched you. He killed a man today who would have crushed you like a worm. No one else would want you after this, no one else would understand you. “You owe me a great debt. What other use could I have for a commoner?”

“I can pay my debt in other ways.” You protest, and go back to gathering your things.

Daemon laughs. It sounds broken to his own ears, cruel and shrill. You turn to face him, noticing the difference in tone. Yet, he is not deterred, even when he barely recognizes the cruel tone he is speaking in.

“Yes. You can. I think you would make a fine dragon keeper. You have little skill for anything else, but anyone can shovel shit. I think five years of that would be a fair trade.”

“Or I could just go.” You threaten.

“You could.” And get yourself murdered in the process because there is no way Viserys and him are letting you walk away with all you have learned in your stay with them. And if they don't get you, sickness and famine might. As the northerners say, winter is coming.

“Princess Aemma…” And it’s only then that Daemon gets fed up. You think Aemma out of all people will protect you? Aemma? Has he been doing such a shitty job of it?

“Aemma said I had to protect you. She did not say I couldn't have you.”

“I…” You start, but Daemon is too desperate to care about how cruel he is starting to sound.

“You should hope her reach doesn't go far, as the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. Tell me, how much do you have? Enough to buy passage into Essos?”

“I'll stay.” You untie your dress, with tear filled eyes. It falls to your hips. Daemon rushes to you like a man possessed. The urge to own, claim, to keep, is too strong to resist.

He wastes no time in burrowing himself in your skin, your hair, carving a place for himself inside you. He is a monster. And intends on devouring you whole.

His love will strangle you until nothing is left. Maybe one day you will be his Queen if Viserys doesn't leave Aemma. By then, you will be just like him.

He kisses down your throat, and lowers a hand between your thighs.

“Stay.” Daemon says, and it feels like the first link on the chain. “Stay.” Muttered between your thighs, as he drowns himself on you.

“Stay.” As your blood stains his shaft, and you moan, confused by whatever you are feeling. As your hips meet his, as you are desperate to choke, to die in his hands.

“I'll stay.” You whisper back, coming down for your high, and the lock clicks.

Has really a key been thrown away if no one hears the sound it makes as it falls?

#daemon targaryen x reader #daemon x reader #prince daemon x reader #daemon targaryen smut #daemon targaryen x you #prince daemon x you #daemon x you #daemon x y/n #prince daemon x y/n #prince daemon targaryen #prince daemon #daemon fanfic #daemon targaryen #daemon x oc #daemon x fem!reader #pyrite series #cristi's bingo #hotd daemon #hotd fanfic #hotd #asoif/got #asoif fanfic #asoiaf fanfic #asoiaf #hotd x reader

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖓𝖑𝖎𝖙 [Moon's Calling]

Alphas are nothing but trouble, nothing but hearts about to be broken, nothing but fake acts of kindness just to toss you aside after they're done feasting on you. And Jungkook, in your eyes, is no different.

Tags/Warnings: Alpha!Jungkook, Werewolf!Jungkook, Omega!Reader, Werewolf!Reader, slight angst, mentions of past infidelity and resulting distrust, Alpha!Werewolf!Yoongi, tiny bit of fluff but it's so subtle you might miss it

Length: 3.2k (look who's already dashing past her own set guidelines)

⛔️ I can't Tag people. There is no Taglist for this fic.⛔️

-> Masterlist

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"You're out again this late." Yoongi says quietly from a little further away behind you, calm. "What's gotten you so restless? You've never had any issue with the moon until recently." He wonders, carefully walking closer.

You've been a bit on edge lately, unsure of why your emotions seem to be all over the place. It's this aching sense of missing something far away, as if you've got to be somewhere you're not sure of. Your sub-gender and it's natural cycle have never been an issue to you ever before- so it can't be the moon at all. And yet, the more the moon adds to it's shape, the closer it gets to show itself in it's entirety in the sky, the more anxious you seem to get every night. Waiting. For something you don't know.

"If you want me to call off Seokjin's sending, then I'll do it." Yoongi gently says, sitting down on the rock near the river next to you. "You know he won't mind."

"No-" You shake your head. Seokjin deserves to finally go with his mate- he's been waiting for some time now, and you don't want him to go without a proper sending. You're not too superstitious- but you still like your traditions, and in a way, you wouldn't be able to see him go without an opportunity to properly say goodbye either. He's still a part of the pack, even if he leaves. "-it wouldn't be fair. I don't know what's gotten me so.." You adjust your position on the rock, staring at the stars in the reflection of the running water.

"Restless." Yoongi chuckles. "You're at that age, after all-" He starts, and you groan in faked pain, rolling your eyes. "What? Nothing wrong with being a late-bloomer. When I was your age-"

"When I was your age!" You jokingly imitate him, making him swing his head after your head, a scolding hit you barely avoid with a grin. "You make yourself sound so old all the time."

"I'm just saying. Most get their mates at 21, most even sooner." He reminds you. "Maybe yours was simply lost." He shrugs.

"Yeah well-" You take a small rock from the side, and throw it as far as you can- unable to reach the other side of the river. "-speaks volumes about who I'm mated to then, doesn't it?" You growl to yourself, picking up another small rock to throw.

"Well, pup-" The alpha next to you leans back, watches you throw another rock unsuccessfully. "-You don't know what life they live. The hurdles they have to overcome. Not everyone has a pack like you, after all." Yoongi gently reminds you, as you continue to throw your pebbles.

"I don't want to have a mate anyways." You shake your head. "All alphas are arrogant and egoistic." You huff, before side-eyeing Yoongi next to you with a bit of submission in your gaze. "…maybe not you. But the rest is."

"I was about to fight for Seokjin's honor for a second, but I have to admit that he is pretty full of himself." He chuckles with you, before he picks up a rounded pebble next to him as well, twirling it in his palm. "But exceptions define the norm, pup. Maybe your mate isn't someone you'll loath." He tries to lift the mood, easily throwing the pebble into the grass on the other side of the river.

He knows your experiences with Alpha-wolfs until now. They're not good- you're pretty much cursed it seems like to always attach yourself to the one's that do not deserve it. It's like you're drenched in honey, constantly to be attacked and stung by the bees around you. It's sad to see, and it's why Yoongi himself as your pack leader has basically begun to shield you from any harm he can.

You've had enough of that for a lifetime.

"They're all the same, down the line." You mumble into your knees next to him, hugging your legs. "I'll just stay with you and the pack forever." You say, leaning into Yoongi's side, who moves an arm around your shoulders to give you a sense of comfort, at least for a moment.

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Seokjin is somewhere in the woods, but you've long left him behind without any regards for the older wolf.

Ever since the human government had made certain woodlands and other nature parks entirely pack property, shifting had become a key part of your life again. So right now, there's no fear and no doubts in your mind any longer, as you run full speed through the trees around you, paws heavy on the ground. You can hear Seokjin somewhere, probably having gotten distracted by something random around. He's never been a very good hunter, probably won't ever be. But he's still your brother, if not by blood then by the bond of the pack.

You'll miss him when he leaves.

Something makes you suddenly stop- there's no noise, nothing, only the hushed whispers of the trees above, technically nothing out of the ordinary. But there's.. something off.

You're walking slower now, carefully moving around the woods, birds chirping and occasionally abandoning their places in the trees at your presence. But you're not here for them, and neither do you care for the rabbits cowering underneath your paws in their burrows beneath the earth you walk on. You're hunting something else it seems, eyes scanning your environment as you stalk through the grass.

Faintly, in the distance, thunder is roaring through the clouds.

Suddenly, your nose lifts, sniffs the air- and you can't help but wag your tail a little as you smell the first preparations for tonight's meals at the festival. Seokjin loves food, and had wished for all of his favorites- maybe if you went back now, you could snatch a few first bites?

Suddenly, someone chuckles. And the voice is entirely unfamiliar.

You turn and growl, caught off guard and a little anxious now at someone you don't know present in the woods- until a person steps out from behind a tree, simply white cotton shirt and torn jeans coming into view, as well as heavy boots and long hair halfway tied in the back of the man's head. He's still sporting a little grin on his lips, and you think about stepping back for a moment, until you realize he might see that as you being scared.

And while that's kind of true, you don't want him to know that.

The young man crosses his arms, colorful ink on one of his forearms staring right at you, before someone smashes right into you, causing you to fall over and tumble through the grass. Seokjin's heavy frame lays right on top of you, nipping at your ear and after your legs that try to push him, before he finally lets off, shakes himself.

"It's good to see you, Jin-hyung." The young man offers, accepting the way the large wolf bumps into his stomach as a form of greeting. "I assume you're a packmate?" He asks you, and you stand up as well now, shaking every dry leaf off of you, huffing in distaste, before you simply walk past him, on your way back to the packhouse.

"Ah, there he is. Jungkook!" Someone calls out to whom you believe might be the young man who'd found you, as you instead jog towards Yoongi, who lets his hand run over your back as you walk past, brushing against his thigh.

"Go change. Chunhei wants your help with the cooking." He informs you, voice both demanding and bold in it's tone- but not unfriendly, as you share a look to let him know you understood, walking inside the house where you're already being expected.

"I apologize if she was unfriendly." Yoongi bows just a tiny amount to Jungkook, who waves it off. "She's not too fond of strangers- mostly alphas." He apologizes for you, though Jungkook doesn't seem too bothered.

"Figured. We've got a bit of a tarnished reputation, don't we?" He chats, and Yoongi nods politely.

"Your pack is at the guest house up north. Seokjin will bring you." He shortly says, before leaving.

And Jungkook can't help but feel like he's not quite wanted here at all.

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Alcohol is already flowing the next time you spot the guy named Jungkook, currently occupied joking around with Seokjin and someone else you don't know.

"He's not that bad." Yoongi offers, sitting down on the bench next to you with a mug of wine in his hand, as he sets it down on the table. "But a bit of a troublemaker, I've heard." He adds.

"How so?" You wonder, picking up another bite of food as you relish in the music and the drums beating through your body.

"Challenged his pack alpha, Namjoon, twice this year." Yoongi offers. "Namjoon himself told me that it wasn't much more than 'a young alpha getting cocky', but the way he described it.." The alpha next to you shrugs, taking a sip of his wine.

"So he's just like any other alpha then." You simply huff, eating your food while daring to catch another glimpse of the situation in front of you.

Just to have him stare right back at you.

"No, I don't think so." Yoongi catches your attention back, breaking the small moment. "I don't trust him, Jungkook I mean. There's something off about him, and I don't like it." He grumbles into his mug, before he slowly stands up. "I'll have to go socialize some more. Don't go to bed too late, okay?" He tells you, and you roll your eyes, waving him off.

"Yes, mom." You joke, making him chuckle as he leaves you be.

And only a few moments later, someone sits down in front of you- and by the scent of it, you don't even have to look up to see who it is.

"Hi." He simply offers, arms resting on the wooden table you sit and eat at. There's a hint of wine on his breath, but not much- he probably hasn't had much to drink yet, which calms you down quite a bit. God knows if you hate anything more than alphas, it's drunk alphas.

You don't answer him, and he chuckles at that. You don't get what's so funny.

"Can I ask why you're so.. not fond of me?" he wonders.

"You mean why I don't like you?" You correct him, and he seems to visibly perk up at that. If he had a wolf's tail, it would probably be wagging.

"A bit harsh, but I guess it fits." He says, getting more comfortable in his seat now that he seems to have pushed through the first hurdle of getting you to talk to him. "So?" He wonders, and you shrug, still not sparing his face any glance as you finish your last bite of food.

"I just don't like alphas." You justify yourself. "Just like Yoongi said."

"You seem quite close." He offers, and you know why he's asking that.

"I'm not interested." You respond because of that, drinking your water.

"I didn't even ask anything." He leans back a little. "Just an observation. An attempt at smalltalk, if you will." He charmingly says, and you cant help but at least notice his rather toned physique. Not even a simple white cotton shirt can really hide what's possibly beneath, judging from his shoulders and the fabric straining around his biceps. If he wasn't such a cocky alpha, you'd be able to see the appeal in him. He smells nice, too- seems to take care of himself, proves his capabilities.

But that won't help at all, if the rest of him is the exact opposite of appealing.

Alphas just swoon every omega they can get their hands on- they're simply hungry for anything they can put their dick in, no matter what. And even if you trust them, give them your heart and soul, they'll just end up betraying you for something else. Someone else.

And they won't even be sorry for it.

"well, your smalltalk sucks, and I haven't asked for it in the first place." You respond- but he's bitten into you it seems like, not willing to let go this easily. It just irritates you more.

"And yet you engage in it." He chuckles, making you want to wrap your hands around his neck.

"Can't you bother someone else?" You ask, putting your cutlery on your plate as you sip the last of your water. "I'm sure you can find someone or something else to put your dick in that isn't me." You tell him, and he clicks his tongue, leaning back with his arms crossed.

You hate how you can't help but stare at the way his muscles move underneath his skin.

"Ah, Yoongi-hyung told me about that." He nods to himself. "And considering what I've been told, it'll only fuel your distaste of me if I told you that I'm not like that, right?" Jungkook tells you, and at that, you lift your gaze to glare at him. But all it really does is make his stupid round doe eyes sparkle, lights from all around you reflecting in them as his gaze brightens up a bit. "There we go. Nice to meet you." He chuckles, and you want to growl- but you've got some self-control in yourself.

"Can't say the same." You instead mumble, making him throw his head back as he laughs.

"You're cute." He tells you, and you huff at him. "Very cute."

"What do you want from me?" You ask yet again. "I'm not gonna let you-"

"I don't want sex." He cuts you off, effectively shutting you off. "I want a simple conversation with the pretty wolf I've just met. Preferably without getting glared at, but it's cute, so I'll let it slide." He shrugs.

"Too bad." You instead say, standing up and collecting all dishes and cutlery. "Because the 'pretty wolf' doesn't want to engage in fuckboy-talk." You hiss, making him lift his hands in playful defeat.

"Hm, I'll accept it." He nods, standing up as well. "Have a good rest of your night then, pretty wolf." He simply tells you, before he leaves you be.

And you're not sure what to think of him now.

🌘.━━━━━━━━━━.🌕.━━━━━━━━━━━.🌒

You're yet again at the riverbed, throwing your pebbles- but this time, Yoongi isn't around.

You don't blame him, and you don't expect him either- he's not very fond of large gatherings, and had to use up all the energy in his social battery tonight- so he's probably exhausted. He might be a bit naggy and grumpy most of the time, but he's also one of the best leaders you can think of. He never chose to be alpha, was thrown into the cold waters when his father ditched the wolf-life for a better job in the cities- but Yoongi had stayed. Not only with the pack, not only in the woods he grew up with, but also with himself and the things he believes in.

When you came to his pack, you were young- not even fifteen, barely able to even make a decision like leaving a pack and joining another. You had ran away from your old pack, and Yoongi, having just been announced as leader, the youngest known at the time, had accepted you even though he was looked down upon for it. An unfamiliar omega runaway, accepted just like that.

But he had fought his way back, has claimed himself a lot of honor and respect from others. You most of all.

You're blindly throwing pebbles into the water in front of you, one after another, unable to sleep yet again. The moon is just one night away from being in it's full glory- tomorrow, Seokjin will leave, and you'll be unable to find rest yet again-

suddenly a small rock lands in the grass across the lake, freezing you in place.

"You shouldn't be so far away from your pack so late at night, omega." Jungkook's voice is deep, but not threatening as he approaches you slowly. It makes you uneasy just because of that- because you can't read him, aren't sure of his intentions at all as he sits down next to you, though with a respectable distance. You still feel like he's trying to manipulate you, with everything that he does.

"One move closer and I'll bite your dick off." You growl, and he has the audacity to laugh, not looking your way, but simply ahead.

"I better stay right here then." He simply says, watching the river in front of him. "I'm not that good with crowds." He suddenly says, and you wonder why, because you didn't ask whatsoever. "I technically didn't want to come, but Jin-hyung had asked me, and I guess considering you're in the same pack, you know how he's like when he doesn't get what he wants." He chuckles, and you don't answer at all. "And also.. It's hard to stay back home when your chosen mate is calling out to you every night." He tells you, and you now look at the side of his head.

His chosen mate?

"Honestly thought they'd never show up." He simply continues, doing something with his hands that you can't see. "But some might need a bit more time than others- and I've learned when to act, and when to be patient." He shrugs, looking at whatever he's doing.

"Why are you telling me that?" You ask unsure, adjusting a bit in your spot on the rock that's a bit higher than the one he's sitting on.

"Hm, why?" He hums, though doesn't seem to be going to answer that question. "What's something you like?" He asks instead, catching you off guard.

"Uh.." You take a moment to think, genuinely unsure how to answer that. "soft things? I don't know.." You quietly answer, and he nods to himself, smiling. "I should probably go back..-" You start, and he speaks up again.

"Are you scared of me?" He asks boldly, not looking at you, and you freeze. You're not sure if you are- you're not sure if you should be. If Yoongi doesn't trust him, you don't either- but at the same time, you don't really know what kind of threat your pack leader sees in him. Jungkook is a cocky, braindead alpha who doesn't actually think with his brain, but his fragile masculinity. That's not a threat- that's simply just a nuisance.

So you scoff. "No." You tell him.

"Good." He simply says, standing up to full height, before he approaches you, and puts something into your hands you don't look at- because the moon reflects in his dark eyes, and you can't look away no matter how hard you try- the golden ring around his irises proving the presence of his wolfblood pulsing in his veins. "Because there's nothing to be afraid of." He simply tells you, before he walks past you. "Don't stay out too long." Jungkook only offers as he walks away from you, and you're stuck in place for a good moment because his scent is paralyzing you in some odd way. It's making you awfully tired, exhausted even, as if suddenly you've hit that weird moment of sleep overcoming you in front of the TV you're staring at.

And you're even worse when you look down into your hand, where you find a little bow made of braided grass.

An offering.

An offering to be your mate.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #hybrid imagine #werewolf jungkook #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #bts jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook imagine #bts jungkook x reader #bts jeon jungkook imagine #bts jeon jungkook x reader

[lil-darhk]

"Do You Want to Dance too?"

[Bucky Barnes x reader]

Summary: After a very rare date with your boyfriend, it starts to rain and you two find yourselves stuck in a cafe with no way to get home without being soaked wet.

Warnings: fluff

(A/n: First attempt at a fanfic. I thought about this when I was trying to sleep and I really wanted to write it down.)

I curse under my breath as James and I quickly run to the small cafe at the end of the empty street. The rain started just a few moments ago so it wasn't bad now but I had a feeling it was only going to get worse.

We finally making it through the door, only slightly wet.

" Nice end to the day," he mumbles, clearly not happy.

I sigh and take a seat at my usual table when Ella, a good friend of mine, pops up behind the counter.

"Well this is a surprise," the barista says, "Thought I was finally going to be able to go through the whole day without you showing up."

"Ha ha," I muse, "Get us some hot chocolate."

She rolls her eyes but goes to make the order nonetheless.

James takes a seat next to me, glaring out the window as if that would stop the rain. The rain didn't take kindly to that as it starts a downpour, confirming my earlier suspicion.

He grumbles and I take his hand in mine.

"Tonight was nice," I say gently.

"It could've been better."

I shake my head, " You can't control the weather, love."

But I could understand his frustration. We rarely got to spend much time together as it was.

We usually only see each other at night but by then are too exhausted to do anything other than eat and sleep.

James and I had started dating a few months but we had known each other for years before then. I used to be an Avenger but I quit after Steve left. First it had been out of grief from my best friends, then it changed to me not wanting that kind of life anymore.

James was still very much in it, he was a soldier first after all, and, as long as he didn't get himself killed, I was okay with that.

I unconsciously traced a small scar on his palm as Ella brings us the hot cocoas.

"Okay, here's the deal," she starts, "I have to close up in 45 minutes. You guys can stay to try to wait the rain out."

"Do you at least have an umbrella we can borrow?," I ask.

"Nope. I even gave mine to an old lady."

"And you can't let us stay?"

"Nada."

It was my turn to grumble, "Fine."

Ella shrugs, "I need to clean up," she says before making her leave.

James was still glaring out of the window when he suddenly turned his stare on me.

"This is why we should've taken the car," he concluded.

I was taken aback, "So it's my fault for suggesting that we walk for 20 minutes to the restaurant?"

"Guess so."

I scoff, "You are on very thin ice here, Barnes."

He raises an eyebrow, "Are you threatening me?"

"Guess so," I mimic.

"What are you going to do?" he asks, amused.

"Do you want to sleep on the couch?"

He scoffs at my threat but doesn't say anything else.

Smart man.

We sip our hot cocoas in silence.

Then, suddenly, I'm laughing. James looks at me with an amused grin.

"I can make you sleep on the couch," I say, still giggling.

I poke his chest and he starts laughing too.

"I know you can, dear. I know you can."

He grabbed my chin with his right hand, tilting my head so I looked him directly in the eye.

"What would I do without you?" He wonders out loud.

"It's too awful to think about," I joke.

He laughs again before pressing his lips against mine.

I sigh in the kiss. It's difficult to think I was once distrusting of the super soldier I had grown to love. Now I trusted him with everything I had and more.

It took a long time for me to see the ex-Winter Soldier's true nature. His gentle, shy yet annoyingly protective nature

Too long.

He broke off the kiss with a small smile.

"We should finish the hot cocoa before it gets cold," James suggests.

"Hot cocoa is more important than kissing your girlfriend?" I pout.

He shrugs, "It's good hot chocolate."

I don't deny his statement.

It's my turn to look out of the window. As rain banged on the roof and glass of the small cafe, it seems to play out a rather aggressive tune. I don't like when it rains. It brings back rather painful memories, but I've learned that countering the bad memories with good ones helps make peace with the pain caused in a moment.

That gives me an idea.

"Do you want to sprint for it now?" I ask randomly.

The super soldier nearly spits out his cocoa, "What?"

"It's probably only gonna get worst and we are going to have to eventually."

"Do you want to dance too?" he said sarcastically.

My eyes lit up at the idea, "Can we?"

James' eyes widened, "I meant it as a joke."

"But why not? It's as cliche as dancing in the apartment," I point out, "Besides it'll be fun."

He shook his head, "We are not dancing in the rain."

"But-"

"It's way too cold and the last time you got sick, you couldn't get out of bed for a week."

I try to hide my wince by pouting, "Fine. No dancing."

He sighs, "But maybe we should go soon, It does look like it's going to get worst."

"So let's go then."

"Wait up!"

James' voice was nearly lost in the rain. I kept running, knowing full well he could catch up with me within a minute.

Or maybe he couldn't. I was pretty fast.

I laughed into the wind, my mouth filling with water as the painfully large raindrops hit my face.

I sprint in the direction I think is my house and, try to calm the leather jacket that James gave me by wrapping it around my torso.

While doing so, I accidentally stumble on my feet and go flying forward.

Strong arms wrap around me within a moment, one made out of a now freezing metal.

"I got you," Bucky assures, "I got you."

I hear him loud and clear now despite his voice barely being above a whisper. The drumming of rain seemed like an irrelevant background noise.

I turn to him, grinning like an idiot. His hair was stuck to his face. He shakes his head at me but was unable to hide his own smile.

No words needed to be exchanged in the moment as his hands rested on my waist and my arms looped around his neck.

I look at James with possibly all the love I held and softly press my lips against his. It was easy to forget everything with him, even easier to forget the bad things.

He put his arm on my neck and pulls away. " You're going to get sick."

"I've accepted it," I confess quickly, chasing his lips.

He shakes his head again but lets me kiss him regardless.

~~~

I got sick for a week afterward but it was well worth it. Especially when I had James looking after me.

#bucky x female reader #bucky x y/n #james bucky buchanan barnes #winter soldier #bucky x you #bucky barnes #bucky #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #first fanfic #Marvel #Marvel fanfic #mcu #marvel #marvel mcu #the avengers #<3

[akystaracer22]

Here in the Garden, Let’s Play a Game

Synopsis: A nightmare about paradise, and an attempt to create something new, even the coldest hearts can warm with a careful touch.

Notes

:)

Can you tell I like Adam’s character?

TW: Mild Mind Control, Thought Suppression, and Altered Thoughts in the flashback scene, descriptions of panic attacks, vomit, mild descriptions of gore, unreliable narrator.

As for the latter half: This is what Lucifer meant in Distrust Fall when he said he thought he knew where to start.

Hurt/Comfort

Word count: 3304

Fic under cut!

Adam blinked and pulled his hand away from where it rested against the hide of a boar, where the fuck was he?

Last thing he remembered he was exhausted after another shitty fucking day in hell and went back to his room to sleep, and suddenly he’s in some sort of glade.

Huffing, he gently patted the boar’s side and nudged it up, “C’mon, up you get, I gotta figure this shit out.”

The boar acquiesced easily, trotting away into the foliage as Adam took a look around the scenery to try and figure out where he was.

Long lush green grass that flowed in the breeze in such a way it looked pristine, long natural flower beds carving up the glade in perfect patterns. The trees were a mix of evergreens and impossibilities. Trees he’d never seen together before all coexisting in magnificent harmony.

If he didn’t know any better, he’d think he was…

Adam face blanched at the sudden wind that hit his body, his bare body.

Where were his clothes?

“No no no nononono!” Adam gasped and glanced around in a panic; he wasn’t wearing anything. That wasn’t good- shit he needed his clothes!

He flared his wings out to try and use them to give himself some coverage only to be painfully aware of another fact when nothing happened.

He couldn’t feel them.

He couldn’t feel his wings.

Adam twisted around and stared at his bare back in terror, he was missing his wings, wings he’d had for millennia at that point, wings he’d kept even as he plummeted to hell, ruined as they were they were still his they couldn’t just be gone-!

A loud whimper slipped off his tongue before he could bite it back. He cursed, hating the show of weakness only marginally less than he hated being so exposed.

Adam moved forward on unsteady legs, nearly tripping from the sudden lack of weight on his back from his wings. Already he hated the place, it’s perfection reminded him too closely to the garden, just as much as his exposure and lack of wing’s and-

Chink

Adam’s blood turned to ice in his veins at the sound. Glancing down at his right wrist, he found the source.

A small, innocuous golden cuff attached to a similarly gold chain, glowing softly from where it laid against his skin. The chain lead upwards, disappearing into nothingness.

The first man’s breathing quickened as he stumbled forward, instinctively trying to run in the opposite direction of the chain. Shit he was right why the fuck did he have to be right?!

He was in Eden; he was in fucking Eden.

“Adam!”

The first man turned around swiftly at the sound of his wife’s voice, smiling brightly as the angel he was reporting to took their leave, “Eve! My dear you look beautiful as always.”

His wife stopped in front of him, and Adam’s brow twitched, she looked…

Free.

Troubled. Her eyebrows were pressed together, and her shoulders were tense. Her hair looked unusually messy, and her eyes kept darting around as if looking for something.

She doesn’t want Them to see this.

“My dearest, what troubles you?” Adam reached out a hand to her before pulling back abruptly as he noticed something else, Her eyes had darkened to a deep, almost black red. Her chain connecting her to the Lord was absent, “Beloved, where is your shackle?”

“Adam we need to talk,” Is all Eve said instead, moving forward to grab him by the arm and drag him into the foliage surrounding the clearing.

“My dear we must inform our Creator immediately,” Gods first human exclaimed, his chest growing tight the longer he was aware of his partner’s bare wrist, “We are never to be without the shackles that keep us safe this is-”

“Just! Listen to me first,” Eve’s tone shifted abruptly silencing Adam, “I- I know how this looks but I need you to trust me for a second, please.”

“Of course, I trust you dear, but-”

Adam didn’t get to finish as Eve caught his mouth with her own. Kissing him deeply much to the man’s surprise. He didn’t have time to react when something passed between Eve’s mouth and his own and he instinctively swallowed whatever it was.

He heard the shackle shatter a second before his mind caught up to it, sending him reeling at the slew of information that struck him all at once.

Memories that he was forced to forget surged into his awareness-

- A passionate kiss with Lilith under the sun-

- A shared meal with an angel- with Lucifer-

- Him, screaming in agony as God cleaved open his chest and reached inside of him-

-A failed attempt to flee while he was still recovering, still reeling from the betrayal and terror as burning bright magic lashed out and dragged him back-

Adam stumbled back away from his second wife – his second wife how in Eden did he ever forget about Lilith – as the reality of the situation finally caught up to him.

They needed to hide. Now.

“Shit I need to get the fucking apple!” Adam yelled, breaking into a sprint even as he stumbled and had to catch himself on the trees as he ran. Animals didn’t even startle as he ran past because fear was an emotion you weren’t supposed to feel, not in Eden.

How the ever-loving fuck Adam was even able to process this was beyond him, but he wasn’t about to try his luck. All it would take is one moment of Gods attention and he’d be unmade and-

Adam bit the inside of his cheek to nip that train of thought in the bud. He wasn’t going to unpack that right now.

He needed to get to the damn tree.

The first man stumbled into a large clearing, immediately hating the exposure before catching golden leaves in the near distance, turning his head he was greeted with his salvation.

A tree with apples pure and divine. It’s trunk a darker colour than normal and it’s leaves a mix of brilliant gold and blinding white.

Adam raced across the clearing; all sense of caution thrown to the wind because he needed to get to those apples-!

A heavy weight slammed into him, knocking him to the ground before something pierced his leg.

Adam cried out in pain before he could stop himself, craning his neck to try and get a look at his assailant only to go wide eyed at the angel pinning him down.

Or, more precisely, the exorcist. Lute.

She was giving him the same hard glare she only really used for sinners or for Vaggie, the one that screamed hatred with every fibre of her being. The thing in his leg was her spear.

“I don’t know how you scum managed to sneak into the garden,” She snapped at him, vitriol poisoning her tongue, “But you’re not getting to that tree.”

“Shit- Lute it’s me!” Adam yelled, trying not to move his injured leg around the spear even as crimson blood – why the fuck was it crimson?! – soaked the ground, “It’s me Adam!”

Lute studied him and for a moment seemed to hesitate, sparking a glimmer of hope in Adam before it was snuffed out with her scowl returning, “No. You’re not. But you need to be fixed.”

Her halo glowed for a gut-wrenching second, before light seemed to travel down the divine chain towards the shackle.

“No nonono shit stop fuck!” Adam shrieked, abandoning sense and uncaring at how his flesh and muscle tore as he tried to shove Lute off, her spear mutilating his leg further, “Lute don’t let Him fucking do this please!”

The light got closer and still Lute did nothing, Adam could only watch the light seep into the cuff and see it glow lightly before-

Adam screamed as he jerked awake, immediately feeling something in his stomach shift and bile surge up his throat.

He stumbled until he hit a door and threw it open, whatever was in his stomach coming back up as he vomited over the railing of his balcony.

He could feel a weight on his back, and he almost cried as he realised it was his wings, instinctively curling them around himself as he sat there against the rails. He shuddered for a moment, shivering despite the heat.

His leg ached despite the fact that it was a nightmare.

It was a nightmare.

Fuck he thought he was about to-

A hiccupping sob slipped out of him, followed by another as he fell apart.

He thought he was going to die in the worst way imaginable. Worse than when the maid stabbed him, or when he fell or even when he died all those millennia ago he thought he was going to be erased.

Shit he thought he was going to be erased and one of his girls was going to watch it happen.

He would rather fall a thousand times over or be stabbed by a thousand angelic weapons then be erased again.

The fallen angel kept sobbing for a few more seconds before forcing his emotions back down again, he wasn’t about to be caught weak like that. Not here. Once before at the fucking graveyard was enough. He was Adam he was gods first man he was- he was the fucking Adam! He needed to get his fucking shit together because someone noticed. Before someone thought to look deeper and see how much of a rotten shit show he was inside.

He didn’t need anyone to see him this pathetic. Not again, not after last time.

.

.

.

“Adam?”

The first man’s eyes widened, and his head snapped over to the balcony next to his. Shit!

“Luci-fer ah hah why the fuck are you awake?!” Adam scrambled to his feet, wings flaring out to balance him even as he gripped the rail.

The king of hell was wearing what was probably casual wear for him, just a dress shirt, his usual pants and shoes combo, and a vest. His brow was furrowed as he took in Adams sorry state.

“I was working on something- are you okay?” Lucifer spread his wings, crossing the gap between their balconies with an ease that made Adam jealous. Lucifer had fallen just like he did and yet he was the one who still kept his wings, who didn’t have to deal with dead weight and could still fucking fly.

It wasn’t fucking fair.

“Go fuck yourself Lucifer, I’m not in the damn mood,” Adam muttered, stalking back inside and going to shut the door on the devil.

“No, no you’re not running from this not after-”

“After fucking nothing,” The first man growled, turning back to scowl at the king of hell who’d put a foot in the doorway to keep Adam from closing it.

“Adam,” Lucifer sounded tired, which pissed Adam off even more, “I’m not letting this one go. Not after what I just saw. You’re talking about this.”

“I’m sorry, why the fuck do you even care?”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me, why the fuck do you even care?” Adam snarled, mantling his wings on instinct, “First you fucking clean my wings for me, you keep on watching my back for some fucking reason. Then, you go out of your way to catch me when I fall, why? What the fuck is your angle here why the fuck do you care?”

“Can’t I care?”

“You didn’t care in Eden when you abandoned me,” Adam snapped before freezing.

“Oh,” Lucifer blinked a few times before folding his wings and making them disappear, “So that’s it, isn’t it. You had a nightmare about Eden.”

“Why the fuck would I have a nightmare about paradise?” Adam sneered past the twisting feeling in his gut, “Eden was perfect, the only thing I’d have a nightmare about would be the desolate land I was kicked out into.”

“Except Eden wasn’t perfect,” Lucifer pressed, eyes narrowing at the bluff, “It sure didn’t seem perfect when He-”

“Don’t!”

“…”

“…”

They both stood there, the silence staining the air with Adams stupid, foolish, weakness.

“Come on get dressed, we’re going out,” Lucifer huffed, his wings returning to block the balcony like that was an actual escape route.

… shit he was planning on doing that.

“Fine, piece of shit good for nothing-!” Adam grumbled as he threw open the closet and grabbed his shirt, throwing off his night garb with his mind only quietly screaming at him to put something on because he wasn’t wearing anything. It shouldn’t matter anyway; Lucifer had already seen him plenty of times in the past naked.

Still, he couldn’t have gotten his pants on fast enough.

He shrugged on his coat and put on his shoes before Lucifer abruptly grabbed him and dragged him close.

Before Adam even had a chance to curse at him or break out of the grip a shower of bright gold sparks crackled through the air and a warm wind hit his face. He jerked, stumbling out of the kings hold and striking out with a wing even though he knew Lucifer would dodge.

“Would you not?!”

“Sorry! Sorry,” Lucifer grinned, clearly anything but sorry, “But it was the quickest way to get here!”

“And where exactly is here? Because this just seems like a whole lot of nothing.”

Nothing but rock stretched out in all directions, they looked to be at the bottom of a cliff and if Adam looked up… was that the hotel?

“Are we seriously in the fucking nowhere around the hotel?!”

“Here me out first!” Lucifer spread his wings instinctively, “Just- I have a pitch for you!”

“Get on with it,” Adam bit out, he highly doubted anything Lucifer could say right now would even be remotely-

“A garden.”

The first mans thoughts cut off, before his brain kicked back in and he just stared at lucifer, “…what?”

“A garden,” Lucifer smiled widely, showing teeth without a threat, “You can use this space to grow a garden.”

“Why the fuck would I grow a garden.”

“You loved it in Eden didn’t you?” Lucifer’s smile shrunk a little into something pitying, It made Adam’s gut churn, “I remember how you used to spend hours talking about just caring for the garden. You were chattering on about concepts your mind couldn’t even comprehend yet as you tended the garden.”

“The soil is inhospitable, nothing will grow.”

“They said that about the land outside of Eden as well, and yet look what you managed.”

“You can’t seriously expect me to have the amount of time required to even begin managing the soil let alone the plant life.”

“I’m sure Charlie can be convinced to give you all the time you need in the day!”

“I can’t get down here.”

Lucifer rolled his eyes and snapped his fingers at the nearest cliff face, leaving Adam to watch as a set of stairs manifested, coiling through the rock and leading up towards the back of the hotel where his girls were laid to rest.

“I’m not exactly in shape asshole.”

“Well, you’ll be getting in shape as you work on this so that shouldn’t be an issue soon.”

“I-”

“You know you can just say you don’t want to do it right?” Lucifer shut the first man up easily with a look, “This isn’t a mandatory thing, you can just say no and go on your merry way.”

Adam knew that. He didn’t owe Lucifer shit and he didn’t have to do this. He could just walk; the stairs were literally right there now. He could just leave.

His feet stayed rooted to the ground where he stood.

“Well?”

Fuck.

“Just give me a fucking hoe already,” Adam sighed, holding out his hand and glaring at Lucifer.

The devil in question looked absolutely delighted, grinning widely and summoning-

“The tool, don’t give me a fucking mirror. You’re not funny.”

“Sorry! Sorry, I couldn’t resist the joke,” In a flash the small handheld mirror was replaced with a steel hoe the first man hefted in both hands. He tested its weight before nodding, it’d do.

“I need grass, pomegranate, apricot, strawberry, pear, some flowers- preferably the kinds that won’t fuck up the dirt any more than it already is. And fuck it- you can throw in some hell species as well let’s see how those fuckers play ball. I’ll need a broad fork to start breaking up the soil too.”

Adam had no fucking idea how he was going to make sure the seeds got enough sunlight to grow but fuck he didn’t have many other hobbies aside from trying it.

He stabbed the hoe into the ground and grabbed the broad fork from the air as it formed, mapping out in his mind what land he’s going to have to prep now and where he can just leave it to later. Maybe he can use the shade of some of the outcroppings to his advantage and Lucifer could create water sources, maybe even an underground river to connect them so there is some proper hydration without risk of contamination…

“You know, those seeds are going to take a long time normally to grow,” Adam looked at the other fallen angel as he talked, “Not to mention how long fixing the land will take, you could be doing this for decades.”

“Are you trying to discourage me from this after I just decided to do it?”

“Not at all! I just… have a suggestion.”

“Go on.”

“I can play with the time down here, make the land grow faster and nurture itself quicker. You won’t age unnaturally despite being dead and return to dust of course!” Luci laughed nervously, “But I’ve worked with the spell for long enough so I’m sure it’s safe.”

“… How sure.”

“I’ve tested it with myself.”

“Luci what the fuck.”

“We both know you would refuse immediately If I didn’t do it,” Luci laughed, crouching down, and placing a hand against the barren earth, “You’d rather die than have anything hurt your plants.”

“They’re living creations in their own right,” Adam snorted, “I’m just keeping them safe.”

“And yet at the end of the day you still eat them same as animals.”

“Hey, I wouldn’t eat anything that also wouldn’t eat me at the end of the day.”

“Pigs.”

“They’ve killed and eaten almost five hundred humans in the past two hundred years.”

“Chicken.”

“Have you met them?”

“Plants?”

“They devour any form of meat buried in the soil near them. Look it up, people have buried pieces of meat near plants needing protein and they devour them.”

“Oh, what the fuck.”

“I used to do it too back on earth, buried any meaty remains in the earth to help foster life once I figured that out.”

“Okay!” Luci’s hands glowed brightly, forcing his own magic into the ground in what Adam could only guess was his attempt at changing the topic.

Adam couldn’t see the change as much as he could feel it. The earth under his feet shifting ever so slightly in accommodation to the fallen angels magic.

Lucifer stood up as the glow faded away, dusting himself off, “Well, as fun as this talk was, I’m headed back up to the hotel. Char Char’s gonna be awake soon and I’m hungry.”

The first man snorted at his old friends bluntness, waving the angel of the morning star off as he disappeared into a shower of magic.

Adam turned back towards the barren wasteland, shaking out his wings and stabbing the broad fork into the ground. If he was going to make the best fucking garden hell had ever seen, he had a lot of work ahead of him.

Notes at the end:

In Eden, the only thing adorning both Adam and Eve was these little golden chains that God used to keep them from acting up like Lilith did, when Eve was created the chains appeared on both of their wrists. When Eve bit the apple, it broke her chains. Then, Eve sought out Adam and got him to eat the fruit and well you know the rest. God doesn’t pay attention to Eve because she was made from Adam so she should be perfectly subservient to Adam’s whims (misogyny amirite?) and thus Eve could sneak away and bite the apple.

Saw this from another fic but Adam was awake when the rib was torn from him because I live for that. The cuff stops him from remembering it.

The chains essentially prohibit the bad thoughts™ so as to keep Adam and Eve from straying like Lilith did. Basically, God is actively prohibiting them from having any true free will.

Lucifer explicitly told Eve to get the apple to Adam because he was mildly crushed by the thought of his old friend having gotten his will stripped from him because Lilith didn’t want to be with him anymore. He’s also hurt by the fact that God felt it fit to strip Adam of any notion of friendship, breaking the bond Lucifer so carefully forged with the first man. Lucifer despises that his friend went from treating him like an equal to treating him like Lucifer was leagues more superior to Adam. All that progress reset without any hope of repairing it.

Adams treatment of Lilith and later Eve was a learned behaviour, mainly because he was just following God’s direction.

The chains aren’t the only symbol of Gods control, Adam and Eve’s eye colours were changed from Brown and Mahogony to Gold, and they glowed softly with divine light.

It also caused the two of them to act more like angels than, well, themselves. This is something Adam grew back into the more time he spent in heaven, gaining the habits of the angels he spent more time around than other winners. It’s something that if he was made aware of, he’d despise.

God I love calling the cuff a shackle, because Adam knows the word and what it means but he can’t comprehend the implications because God won’t let him.

Adam had a lot of propaganda given to him when he reached heaven, mostly that Lucifer tricked Eve maliciously to get at Adam and that Adam was in the wrong for trusting his wife for even a second and all that lovely stuff.

Adams exorcist attire and casual gear all has armour that protected his chest, because he is conscious of the fact that he is missing a rib.

In which author uses way too many hyphens for it to be healthy.

Also, you know how mental health was in the past? Yeah? Good because Adam sure fucking knows :)

Toxic masculinity sure is a bitch isn’t it Adam?

Adam’s an unreliable narrator in the second half.

I’ve done so much gardening research for this holy shit.

My problem is that I can’t write dumb characters without giving them some niche that they’re a genius in. For Adam it’s gardening and animal handling. This guy kept up to date throughout the years no matter what. It’s his guilty pleasure. He even was the man behind many parks and gardens in heaven.

I’m losing the try to get Adam to keep holding his grudge against Lucifer for a little while longer battle.

#hazbin hotel #adam hazbin hotel #angst #hazbin hotel adam #writing #worldbuilding #fluff #lucifer hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #adamsapple #ashes to ashes dust to dust #fallen angel #fallen angel adam #fanfiction #fanfic

[mana-jjk]

jjk spoilers!! references to child abuse !

despite what others may assume, toge is kind of an expert at reading people.

just because he lost an arm doesn’t mean he can’t pick up on body language, just because he has to hide his face doesn’t mean he can’t analyze facial expressions, just because he can’t talk outside of his safe words and curses doesn’t mean he hasn’t picked up on every single intricacy layered within their speech.

actually, it’s because of all of these reasons and more that he’s had to become proficient.

growing up in the inumaki clan, constantly being watched, under consistent scrutiny of the jujutsu kaisen world, there was a culture of hidden intentions and double meanings.

If you wanted to survive, you either had to layer your own words, or understand how to pick those words apart. And well, considering how intentionally clear toge had to be with his limited vocabulary, he didn’t have much of a choice to begin with.

so he learned.

as a child it was harder, to understand that the attention he so craved, more often than not came at his own expense. they didn’t smile at him because they enjoyed his presence, they were laughing at him. more than that, even as they hurt him, he came to learn that every sharpened glare and raised hand shook with an undertone of terror at his very existence.

it should have made him feel powerful, to see their eyes shine with fear, their hands tremble at every whispered breath. in the aftermath, covered in bruises and wondering when he lost the ability to cry, all he felt like was a monster.

gojo wasn’t nearly as hard to read as he seemed to think he was. under the protection of his limitless and six eyes, with the idea that if no one could touch him, no one could see him, he faltered in his own persona. the sag of his shoulders, the faraway look in his eye, the faltering breath at even the suggestion of his once friend. none of it was as telling as the fractured smile he sometimes offered. his voice honey soaked in lies, not malicious, but with the idea that they lived and died within his straining grasp.

panda was actually a bit harder to read, in that there was something distinctly different about him than one might find in a human. he’s honest in a way, yet still with an undertone of manipulation. not in a necessarily bad way, but growing up as a cursed corpse required a different understanding of human characteristics. it’s easy to see his mannerisms and see them catered to the situation. how to distract, how to endear, how to appear as close to human as possible to settle the natural uncanny feeling the lack of a heartbeat gives. he doesn’t necessarily need to eat, sleep, or even breathe. but he does. he’s not trying to be human, but he does try to assimilate as best he can. almost to where one might forget he’s not even ‘just’ a panda. he’s one of his best friends, a kindness in his honesty and manipulation all the same, but he speaks like an elder sometimes too.

maki, despite her best intentions, might as well be an open book for all her body language gives her away. she may curse and cuss and snarl like a wolf baring its teeth, yet for all the intentions it’s far too obvious that open wounds hide behind her overt aggression. she makes herself the biggest in the room, the most obvious threat, likely intention and instinct all at once. because even when they first met, distrust shining in her eyes and a grinding of her teeth, she still pushed him behind her on their first mission together. she doesn’t want to trust because she already gives her health, sanity, and life, how could anyone possibly expect her to give her heart away too? but even then, behind gnashing teeth and twisting expressions, there is never hurt without intent. the only care afforded to her in the beatings that made her stronger, the only care that she knows how to express. she softens under his own quiet acceptance, relaxes like an alley cat afforded their first kindness. too independent to ever be kept, too starved for kindness to ever truly leave. even as she punches his shoulder, it’s on the unmarked skin. even as she complains at physical contact, she still lets him lean against her. even as she has been hurt and burned, she still loves them, even if her own broken pieces can’t yet admit it.

he’s an expert at reading them, at knowing how to care for them. he can’t judge their mannerisms or judgment, their aggression and lies and all the ugly pieces they bare. in a way he’s the worst of them all, in how much he refuses to yield. constantly hiding, constantly lying, constantly basking in the pieces they afford to him, yet never having the courage to truly bare his own.

and then there’s yuuta, because somehow it’s always yuuta.

it’s almost funny how obvious it is that he wasn’t raised in their society. almost funny how it seems he wasn’t raised to have an inkling of what it means to hide. where gojo hides his pain, yuuta wears his own on his sleeve as if hiding it away was a sign of disrespect. where panda carefully caters his persona to be the most pleasing to any given situation, it’s almost endearing how yuuta seems to act most under accidents and a lack of intentionality, surprising himself just as much as the people around him. where maki hides her pain and her fear and her wants, yuuta seems to act like he’ll die if he doesn’t convey the full extent of his desperation in every manner and facet. he’s honest in a way that more often than not betrays him, that would have been taken advantage of by anyone else in the world.

toge didn’t realize how exhausting it was before until that honesty was directed to him. because even in his terror, in his distrust of toge, yuuta left very little to interpretation. when he was disheartened, it was in the down curve of his face, the slump of his body, the self-deprecating words. when he was happy, it was from the flush of his ears to the excited fidget of his hands. when he loved, it was in the inability to ever let toge believe it could ever be anyone but them. always them.

in a world of double meanings, growing up with the only affection afforded for a specific intention, masked faces and padded movements that required a serpent’s eye to decipher, it was almost too easy.

it was almost funny how simple communication, honesty, truth, how it could fester so much affection from toge.

it burned in a way to see yuuta change with time, to watch him learn how to manipulate the elders in turn. burned even more to know that toge was partially at fault for that change, to know that he was aiding in the corruption of something so endearing to him.

yet that honesty never faltered, at least never with him. the transition of talking to the elders to the brightening of his face as soon as toge entered his vision was almost like whiplash. somehow, it only made it mean more. to know that yuuta, his yuuta, was capable of masterful deception and willful manipulation, yet continuously chose to treat him with nothing but complete honesty. as if lying to toge would cause him physical pain.

little by little, his honesty seemed to affect toge in turn. as if the feeling of safety only yuuta seemed to provoke was all he needed to unravel and share the broken pieces of his heart and soul.

truthfully, it didn’t seem to change much between them.

after all, toge might be hard to read, but yuuta was well-versed in the extent of his own dedication and how far he was willing to go for those he loved. and what toge didn’t seem to realize, with all his ability to analyze and overinterpret, was that he was loved.

period. i’m planning to make my friend watch jjk 0 and i need her to understand the inuokko supremacy or else ?? we’ll find out <3

#inumaki toge #inuokko #yuuta okkotsu #jujutsu kaisen #ottoge #jjk panda #maki zenin #gojo satoru #i’m not normal about them but i’m also just a girl so who is the problem here

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

Protection of the Abyss

Synopsis: When Childe's too injured to think, Foul Legacy soothes him to sleep in search of you.

Foul Legacy Childe x Reader Pronouns: Gender Neutral (no pronouns mentioned) Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff Warnings: Injuries, mentions of crying, near-death experience, pain, mentions of medical supplies

Requested by Cottagecore Anon 💐: hihi! so uhm i have a FL scenario brainrot rn and i might forget about it cause there's so much im doing rn in college (AAA—) so imma immediately send this. 💐 what if foul legacy takes over childe, like, not to transform into his foul legacy form but like, takes over childe's consciousness and body and tries to find reader as childe and reader just doesn't know its FL. its okay if you dont wanna do this request btw!! (since it is a bit uncomfortable for a being to take over —) - cottagecore anon 💐

~ * ~ Childe is used to injuries. As the Eleventh Harbinger, he holds an unprecedented position of power over the endless troops of the Fatui, and as such it seems only natural for others to be against him, to fear his control and desire to put an end to it. The Fatui are distrusted in all other nations- that much he knows- but very few are courageous or foolish enough to attempt to confront the infamous Tartaglia, the Fatuus renowned across Teyvat for his battle prowess, and the ones that are quickly find themselves left for dead with a warning to never approach again. They would return home, terrified, whispering to their companions that yes, Tartaglia is truly unmatched amongst the common folk of the world. Childe has heard the rumors, and allows them to grow and flourish. He sees them as true- of course he’s unbeatable by simpletons like treasure hoarders and hilichurls- with the power he wields, how could he not be? He keeps his Foul Legacy, the art of the Abyss, grasped tightly in his hand; powerful, deadly, controlled; ready to unleash at a moment’s notice, and together he and the Abyss could even tear down the heavens from the sky. How foolish. Trembles run through Childe’s body as he limps away from a pile of dead bodies, slumping against a rocky cliffside and letting out a slow exhale. The twin blades in his hands lose their shape before dissipating into mist, the effort of using his Vision too taxing on his weakened body, and Childe curses himself and his idiotic hubris. He got sloppy- thought he wouldn’t be attacked so far from civilization- although he won, his opponents were smart with how they used their own blades. He squeezes his eyes shut as another wave of pain washes over him, awful and nauseating. His Foul Legacy whines in the back of his head, echoing faintly, distressed at Childe’s wounds and attempting to soothe his rapid, delirious thoughts, a moment of calm in the turbulent ocean of memories. He grasps and clings to a bright piece of the past amidst the Harbinger’s flickering consciousness- the first time he met you, at Bubu Pharmacy, and how you had held his heart and treasured it like it wasn’t corrupted by the Abyss and the starry sea. Childe hears Foul Legacy growl determinedly, once, twice, before everything fades to darkness. Foul Legacy blinks, squinting at the sun and sitting up. Everything is numb, a thin blanket spread over the searing pain of their shared body, and he glances down at his- Childe’s- hands, tentatively flexing them. They’re human enough, minus the way his skin is stained night-color from his forearms down, even fitting inside the bloodstained gloves Childe always wears as part of his uniform. The monster shivers- everything feels smaller in this form, squishier, more vulnerable- he hates it. Briefly he considers slipping the mask on the side of his head over his face, for some semblance of protection, but ignores it in favor of rising to his feet, the pain of Childe’s injuries just barely masked by Abyssal power. You- he needs to find you. You’ll help him and Childe, with your gentle hands, and erase the fear that lingers so steadily in his being. The sun is setting as you write up another prescription, clicking your tongue. What a horrible cold going around! The number of people falling ill only rises by the day, and you’re simply grateful that neither you nor Baizhu have gotten sick yet, with seemingly the entire city needing the Pharmacy’s services. With a flick of your wrist you sign the paper, stamping and rolling it into a scroll to take to work the next day. At least Qiqi can’t catch any bugs going around, you’re not sure what you’d do without your best herb collector, and you toss the scroll into your open bag where at least ten others of the same type are waiting. There’s a knock at your door, and the lateness of the hour makes you tilt your head in slight surprise as you set down your empty mug and venture out of your office. Idly humming a tune, you unlatch and open your front door, your little song dying away in an instant when you’re greeted by the sight of Childe, blood splattered across his clothes. Immediately you panic, brain going into overdrive as your eyes jump from injury to injury, only stopping to wonder how in the world he’s still standing upright. “Wh- Childe?! What happened?!” You pull him inside, sitting him on the couch and turning to run for your medical supplies when a hand catches your wrist. Childe tugs gently on your arm, and slowly you lower yourself and sit beside him, worried at his silence. His fingers brush your chin, urging you to look up into his shining blue eyes. Shining. Your own eyes widen as you stare, the sparkle in Childe’s eyes unnatural yet beautiful all at once. You begin noticing other unusual features, from the staining on his hands to his pointed ears to his hair, now fading from ginger to white at the tips, and your next words are hushed, whispered. “You’re not Childe… are you?” A head shake, and the sensation of a face buried in the crook of your neck prompts you to wrap your arms around Foul Legacy, running your fingers up and down the back of an Abyssal creature in a human body. You can feel him shaking- partially out of fear, partially from adrenaline- and your heart almost shatters right there and then. Without another word you slip away and climb the stairs, Foul Legacy following right behind you, to retrieve your medical kit. The next moments are filled with comfortable silence as you tend to the injuries peppering Childe’s body, cleaning the dried blood with a delicate touch. Foul Legacy merely watches, eyes glimmering and flicking from your face to your hands and back again, fascinated by the process and how the veil over the pain grows stronger and stronger. A few times you catch him mumbling quietly in Childe’s voice, then hastily covering his mouth, blinking in confusion as you attempt to hide your laughter before hunching over the bandages once more. Finally, finally, Childe’s body is wrapped and treated, the snow-white gauze stained deep red in several places, and you let out a tired sigh and lean against the wall, Foul Legacy slotting himself in place beside you. There’s a tentative brush of his hand against your wrist, the deep purple-charcoal color strange but familiar, and without thinking you lace your fingers with his and hold tight. Foul Legacy squeaks in surprise, the sound coming out as more of a yelp in Childe’s voice, pressing his forehead against your shoulder, pointed ears twitching in embarrassment. You smile, raising a hand to ruffle his copper locks, and suddenly there’s a cheek smushed against your palm, Legacy closing his eyes and pouting. His sulky expression, adorable as it is, quickly fades as you begin rubbing your thumb against his cheekbone, turning into one of awe and contentment. This- This is what Childe feels when you cup his face in the morning, at times when Foul Legacy is securely locked away. Everything is soft and gentle, his blackened hands holding yours as you trace across all of Childe’s freckles, making little galaxies and constellations out of them, and Foul Legacy wishes he could stay forever even if he feels his strength waning. He shifts slightly, attempting to curl around your body like he usually does, but settles for resting his weary head in your lap, consciousness faltering as Childe’s body begins to heal. Just barely does Legacy feel your hand stroking his hair, and involuntarily he lets out a whimper, not wanting to leave just yet. There’s a slight pressure on his forehead, your voice whispering something he can’t quite place, and Foul Legacy’s eyes drift closed into slumber. Childe wakes up aching, pain humming constantly in his bones, but not unbearably. Golden rays of sun splash across the blanket tucked over his body, the scent of food wafting from the kitchen- your kitchen- a tasty-smelling broth simmering while you read at the table. Your head jerks up when Childe peeks around the doorway, a broad smile gracing your features as you leave whatever novel you were skimming behind in favor of pulling the Harbinger into a gentle hug. He doesn’t even bother to wipe his tears as he mumbles out “thank you”s and “I’m sorry”s, merely leaning into your touch with a hum of relief. He’s alive. He’s alive, and he’s here with you, where he can heal safely unlike all the times before, accepting the soft blanket and warm broth you bring as he nestles back down onto the couch. The tips of your fingers dance from freckle to freckle, and with a quiet laugh Childe asks you what exactly you’re doing. There’s a little gleam in your eyes as you chuckle. “Oh, I just thought I’d give you some attention, too.” In the back of Childe’s mind, Foul Legacy purrs sleepily, treasuring the memory of your gentle hands ghosting over his face.

#genshin x reader #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #childe #tartaglia #gi ajax #foul legacy #foul legacy childe #genshin tartagalia #genshin childe #genshin tartaglia #foul legacy x reader #sfw #genshin sfw #genshin hurt/comfort #hurt/comfort #genshin fluff #fluff #tartagalia x reader #don't worry anon i LOOOVE this idea!! #now i get to think about what foul legacy in childe's body looks like!! #because he still looks slightly different from abyssal influence #this is the first time i debated making two versions of a fic #i was going between this and happy fluff #i bet you can't guess what you told foul legacy when he was falling asleep #good luck in school my dear!!!! #cottagecore anon #wifi writes

[chubbyheadquarters]

Monkey King Reborn

Genre: Romantic

Pronouns: Gender-Neutral

TW/CW: None

Character(s): Sun Wukong-Monkey King

Just some headcanons that I wrote way last year that I never got around to posting. Oops-

So-👀 My little dumb brain is like-what if, in the movie, since Sandy has his knowledge, Wukong is the muscle and speed and Tripitaka is the center of the group-Why not have a healer/protector?

You, a seemingly normal child, who was bullied for their weight and told that you'd never make it anywhere, awaken your powers when helping a merchant passing by your village. They got hurt, and with your caring nature and panic at the moment, awakened the power within you. People in your village raved about you, sweeping all the bullying and harassment they did to you under the rug and begging for your help.

You agreed for a price. After all, in this cruel world, you only had yourself. Very quickly, people got greedy and even wanted to marry you off since your children had the chance to inherent your powers, which disgusted you. At one point, you just got up and left, never wanting to return. These people weren't savable, nor did you want to help them.

After leaving and wandering on your own, you meet the gang. Tang Sanzang, who had just started his journey and needed another human around, was happy to have you on board, ready to teach you what he knows. The bond you two build is one of siblings. He, the strict yet gullible brother, and you, the more realistic but still kind sibling.

Of course, you meet the others. Sandy, the cute and wholesome water demon. He'll tell you all about the books he has, from myths and stories to demon knowledge. It's adorable how invested he is, and he's happy that you listen. Nerdy friend + supportive bff. You also think it's cute when he's excited or shocked and a bubble leaves his mouth.

Pigsy, the perverted and cocky pig demon. Of course, he sees you and he's drooling. Trying to flirt but quickly getting rejected by you. Every once in a while, he pulls through, which you appreciate, but your relationship with him is aquantices at best.

And then, there's Wukong. He sees you and, like the other beings he's encountered, doesn't really notice you. I mean, you're different from all the women he's seen before his entrapment, being more curvy, and you've got a warm aura, but that's about it? He doesn't really get why you're traveling with them. You just seem...so defenseless? Weak? Way too kind to just be kind.

He's got his eye on you. Thinking that he's gonna catch you doing something bad and call you out. But as time goes by, he realizes that you're...just a nice person, much to his shock. You never ask for anything in return, and you're always happy to help them out.

Let's say that he takes an interest, say when you use your powers. Whether to protect him from an attack with your barriers or when you heal a bad wound of his. He hasn't seen many with your abilities, what with everyone usually just fighting it out. It's a bit interesting, but he still thinks you could learn some self defense.

Your kindness towards him is...strange. He's so used to everyone blowing him off, throwing insults and hate his way, cursing his birth. But you cheer for him when he kicks ass. Compliment him when he finds food and water. And when the others, really just Zhu Bajie, start throwing him under the bus, you're there to defend him. You do scold him, but definitely not as much as everyone else, and when you do, you always do so as calmly as you can and tell him that you're worried about him.

He does notice that, for as kind as you are, you are a bit...distrustful towards people, keeping them at a distance until proven to be an ally or a good being. If they know about your powers, you keep a greater distance from them. It baffles him because you're on good terms with everyone on the team.

When you tell him about your past, since he's a nosy motherfucker, he starts to understand WHY. People have taken advantage of your powers, your kindness and belief that not everyone will use you, but you've pretty much been proven wrong. So when you say that you're thankful to have met them, and that they're the closest thing you've ever had to friends, he's...touched. The fact that you consider him a friend and never try to hide it makes him feel...less alone in the world.

If he ever finds out about the bullying and the people who did it, especially because of your weight, he'll keep it in his mind for later. 'You're pretty wtf???''Well, sucks for them, they missed out on a hot s/o'. He thinks in his mind. He'll visit them and teach them a lesson. Will he ever tell you? Hell no. That's a secret for him and only him to know.

In battle, you two become an absolute unit. You heal, he takes care of the enemies and you defend each other. He really likes the synergy you've built, like you can read each other's movements and just...flow with one another. He knows that if anything, you'll have his back, like he'll have yours.

When he compliments you, you know you're getting closer. He doesn't compliment just anyone, and is only directed that those he REALLY cares about. So even if it doesn't sound super cheerful or cheesy, know that him complimenting you means he likes you. "Not bad. I've never seen something like that." "Thanks Wukong!" Cue blushing monkey.

He'll unknowingly get soft for you, sitting a bit closer, sharing some of his water or food, keeping a closer eye on you in case danger appeared. It isn't until one of the members, maybe Sha Wujing or Zhu Bajie point it out, that he actually starts to think about it. My man starts going through the stages of grief.

Denial is his strongest stage. Why!? He's Sun Wukong! The strongest demon to exist! He doesn't need love! Then he'll start getting angry at himself for getting "soft". He's a demon for heaven's sake! He doesn't FEEL! At one point, he'll start bargaining with himself about how maybe it's the QUALITIES you hold.

The depression be hitting hard when he finds out it's YOU he likes. Don't get him wrong! It's not that there's anything wrong with you, it's just-he's used to being alone. He's never loved anyone, especially like this! Love is seen as a weakness, and now that he WAS IN LOVE-He was worried. He was scared for you-Not that he'd ever admit it. It doesn't help that he's immortal and you're not. Eventually, he half-accepts it. He just needs to be 1000% sure.

When y'all arrive at the Temple and he finds out about the manfruit-Say goodbye to your human years, cause you're gonna eat it. No ifs, ands or buts. He'll feed it to you if he has to. Don't test him. He's not taking no for an answer. In his mind, he's accepted that he enjoys your company, mainly because you take his side and you're literally the light of his life. He still doesn't want to admit how soft he's gone for you. He's such a tsundere I swear to god-

BDJSBSJBSJSNSBSJ-

When Yuandi is released and you're traveling with Fruitie, he sees your bond with the Qi Energy as...kinda cute. Fruitie seems so comfortable around you and you let them talk away, asking questions every once in a while. And you save Wukong the trouble of getting pissed on.

Imagine when you're all fighting against the demons, Wukong is worried about you, looking to see if you're alright every second he can. He knows you're capable, but he's...he's scared to lose you. But it gets even worse when Yuandi-When this dude roles up and starts tossing y'all around-

Zhu Bajie and Sha Wujing are killed, and both you and Wukong are the only thing between him and Fruitie. You're doing everything you can to protect them, using all your energy to keep them safe. You don't want to lose anyone else-you can't-BUT THEN YOU'RE KILLED WITHOUT MERCY AND- 😢😭

Wukong, weak and close to passing out, takes your hand in his. Feeling the warmth leave it breaks his fuCKING HEART OML THIS MAN IS WEEPING FOR YOU- 💔 It isn't until you and the others are revived and next to him that he's truly okay, and without any hesitation, sweeps you into his arms and doesn't let go. You and the others are surprised by the open affection, but you return it none the less.

It isn't until you guys have said your goodbyes to Fruitie and arrived at a safe place to take a breather that he just confesses his feelings for you. It's randomly thrown out there, with the only indication of it happening being the small hue of red on his cheeks and refusal to look you in the eyes.

If you have self confidence issues and ask him if he's sure, he's looking at you, questioning if you heard what he just said. Of course he's sure! He spent all this time making sure, and now that he's accepted it, he's giving you his heart! Not just anyone can do that! It just proves how special you are! But after talking it out, you two eventually get together.

Gifts? Honey, good luck with that-He's so fucking clueless about it that it's kinda cute at times. He's a monkey. He's been surrounded by monkeys. Yeah, he's been around humans, but he's not asking them about human courting and gift giving. If he knew that he was gonna meet you, he would have asked a few questions, but that's about it.

The best he can do right now is flowers and small trinkets he finds along the way that he thinks you'll like. The fact that you enjoy them even though it's another simple flower or trinket, it makes his heart skip a beat. Zhu Bajie had the audacity to question why one day, but your sweet answer saved the pig demon from a beating. "It's BECAUSE they're from him. He's doing his best, and that's all I could ever ask for." Cue blush.

Hug this man! Give him pets and cuddles please this grumpy monkey needs it-😭 Hold his hand when he starts getting mad, it calms him down and he'll hold it back once he's cooled off. Hug him when he's done something good! Pet him when he's tired or bored, that'll get him purring and falling asleep in no time. Of course, this man is a tsundere, so he'll prefer it with just the two of you and without the teasing. You get it though, and always ask for consent, which he highly appreciates. So when it's just you two, he's all over you and adamantly refuses to let go.

If anyone even THINKS to flirt with you-Meet him out back, hands are up and he's ready to throw them for you. If anyone actually DOES, he'll give them the dirtiest glare. And people run away, never to be seen around you again. NOW-If a fool has the guts to actively flirt with you after that-oh boy 😔 They better have their funeral set up cause he's putting them in it.

But if anyone even dares to insult you and call you names. 👁👄👁 They have reached their expiration date on life and are now on their way to the Netherworld. They will not be spared and will not be forgiven, even if YOU forgive them. You deserve respect-after all, you're his queen, and as your king, it's his duty to protect you.

#chubby reader #x chubby reader #wukong x chubby reader #wukong x reader #sun wukong x chubby reader #sun wukong x reader #monkey king reborn x chubby reader #monkey king reborn x reader

[ruhorih4ra]

Hi! ฅ⁠^⁠•⁠ﻌ⁠•⁠^⁠ฅ

First of all, I want to extend a very heartfelt apology to the fellow sheep that belong to the Anti-Lucifer League JAJAJA because this chapter is completely about the viejo sabroso.

What did you say? that my favoritism is showing? That's ridiculous.

(I promise all of them will have their own special moment with Mc, yes even the killer cow.)

I kind of thought I had already put spoilers warnings in the first part but heheh surprise! I didn't! <⁠(⁠￣⁠︶⁠￣⁠)⁠> not much of a spoiler but I wrote the fic without explaining things that won't make sense if you haven't finished the game? (God I don't know but I think I did because I do that all the fucking time)

Part 15!

Get out of my way 🌈

“I hurt your brothers.” You said, curtly. Admitting it felt worse than you had expected. Your eyes were glued to your hands, avoiding those of the older brother, who hadn’t uttered a single word. “You were right when we met, I wasn’t and I am not trustworthy.” You couldn’t help the slight tremble in your voice. “I shouldn’t live in the house of lamentation anymore.” Lucifer remained silent.

“I shouldn’t be your master.” You finally said, feeling a pain in your chest that you were getting used to. You searched for Lucifer’s eyes expecting to see disappointment and anger, but to your surprise he had turned around and now you could only stare at his broad back.

He had turned around since your first confession, he was as much afraid to meet your gaze as you were of looking his. He knew you would be angry and ready to leave them as you should have since the first time he dared to threaten you. He knew it was for the best and wouldn’t have the nerve to deny you, not after he proved to be unworthy.

And then you spoke and he cursed the relief he felt, of course you would take all the blame, of course you would forget about their mistakes and the way they had hurt you too. You were like a mirror years ago, accepting all the pain and never asking why, forgive and forget. But Lucifer knows best, that path only has one end and the fall is long and painful.

The Avatar of Pride was tired. First, you wandered through the Devildom in complete solitude, getting hurt by who knows who without him being able to reach you, much less stopping them. Then, his brother almost died in his arms without him being able to do anything. No matter how hard he tries, the ones he loves the most are always out of reach. He looked at you and noticed how you had lost weight, another thing he had failed at.

“How old do you think I am, Mc?” He asked. The sudden question left you confused but you laughed nonetheless. “Jurassic Park brings memories?” You joked and he turned around with a small smile gracing his lips. “I’ll let that slide.” He walked towards the couch. “I’m very old.” Lucifer said as he sat on the sofa, next to you.

You smiled, still confused by the sudden change of topic, but decided to go with it, after all, whatever he wanted to say couldn’t be as painful as what you had to say. You took a strand of black hair, those few that were white at the very end, and replied. “I can see that.” Your eyes finally met and it wasn’t painful or filled with distrust. It was nice, simply nice. Both of you laughed.

“As I was saying, dear. I have lived for quite some time now. In fact, I am at least ten million years older than you.” Lucifer was smiling, caressing your hand with his thumb. You remained quiet, suddenly very aware of Lucifer’s face of fatigue and glassy eyes. “Naturally, my brothers are rather old too.”

You swallowed hard before removing your hand from Lucifer’s touch. As much as you wanted to go back to the same old routine, you knew it wouldn’t be long before the guilt ate you alive. “I don’t understand how this has anything to do with the fact that I hurt your family.” Your hand brushed the places that Lucifer had touched, something that didn’t go unnoticed by the demon. “I told them horrible things, you know that?” You watched carefully Lucifer’s face, waiting for his reaction. “I ordered them too, just like I ordered you to shut up.” The avatar of pride seemed absent, unamused. “I even thought of…” you forced the words out. “of hurt them, physically. Seriously harm them.” A couple of silent tears rolled down your face.

Lucifer wiped them gently, as slowly as he could, because he knew that was all he would ever get. “I think about physically hurting them almost every day.” Lucifer said, in a playful tone you couldn’t bear. “Stop! I’m not playing, Lucifer! This is serious, I tried and succeeded. I harmed them!” You hit Lucifer’s chest and, to your surprise, he stifled a whimper.

You came to a halt immediately, looking a drop of sweat slide off from his forehead. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?” The prideful demon tried to get up but you were faster, or maybe it was just Lucifer giving up. You opened his already torn shirt to reveal a burnt wound of your pact mark, as if it had been branded with a hot iron. “What the fuck is that?” You stopped Lucifer from buttoning his shirt. “What happened? Tell me.” You fought a silent staring battle until Lucifer sighed. “You called us through the pact but it was…” the demon was searching for the right words but knew that the human in front of him wouldn’t listen. “It was uncertain. I don’t know what happened.”

You laughed bitterly. “You know what happened, you’re ten million years older, aren’t you? What happened, Lucifer?” He rubbed his face. “It’s not your fault.” You put your hand on his chest, pressing slightly harder. He winced in pain. “That’s not what I asked.” You said. He took your wrist but made no effort to stop you. On the contrary, he pushed your hand further into his chest. “It’s not your fault.”

You looked into his eyes as you pressed more. “...” He was clearly surprised, but it was difficult to express it since he was fighting the urge to scream. “Very well, Mc. That’s enough.” An immediate expression of relief reached his face the moment you removed your hand from his thorax. “I appreciate the romantic gesture but I want to know the truth Lucifer.”

“That’s the truth, it wasn’t your fault. You called us but it wasn’t on purpose. It was a reflex. Not a spell, but directionless magic.”, “So I hurt you even when I didn’t mean to.” You shifted uncomfortably in your seat. “The only way you could do it.” Lucifer thought but he decided to keep that to himself.

“Mc, we have lived through worse.” The avatar of pride took your chin and forced you to see him. “We can endure this and more. What about you? What we did to you.” You pushed his hand once more. Lucifer tried to bury the pain he felt every time you decided to avert his touch, but it didn’t hurt any less. “Don’t be stupid, Lucifer. What did you do? Replaced me?” You gestured with your hand before he could deny anything. “And so what? I should have acted like a normal person and just leave.” You said. “Instead of developing a damn curse.” You thought, bitterly.

“I’m glad you didn’t leave.” He knew that was selfish and unfair, he knew he was no better than a little kid throwing a tantrum. “I can’t say the same.” You murmured.

You had called Levi more than the others, you had wanted to see him so badly and perhaps that’s why he almost died. It was ironic and twisted, but now it was obvious. The Little D. of envy really did a number on you and that little show he threw. You fell into their trap like a fool. The more you thought about it, the more anger grew inside you. You would get your revenge, all of those little demons would pay one way or another.

You were starting to regret having stopped Lucifer from leaving when he wanted, once again the conversation ended in nothing good, what you had wanted to say was left unsaid and forming a big and painful lump in your throat. You saw Lucifer from the corner of the eye and your heart skipped a beat. You had to make sure you weren’t seeing things. “You want to leave.” He said, letting you cup his face and watching your gaze full of worry, and once he looked at himself through your eyes he found out why.

“Don’t cry, Lucifer. I’m going to cry too.” You saw a single tear slide until it reached Lucifer’s soft smile. He had cried before, when his brothers were sleeping and silence was unbearable, when he is alone with a life full of memories, painful memories. He knows the art of suffering, the art of breaking down in solitude. However, it had been a long time since he had cried in front of anyone.

“Just because you can endure it doesn’t mean you have to.” You said, recalling his previous words. “Love shouldn’t burn.” The picture of that burn on the demon’s chest refused to leave your mind. Lucifer straightened up and took your hands again, hoping you wouldn’t reject him this time. “This unfortunate incident got out of hand.” He cleared his throat and you rolled your eyes, still finding comfort in Lucifer’s mannerism. “As an ancient and very wise demon, you should really trust my words.” You let escape a little laugh and hummed in response. “Love shouldn’t burn but it does, not always, but there are times, and even after touching the flame we tend to admit that it was worth it.”

“I know you’re not looking for metaphors and I’m not trying to sugarcoat my words. We hurt each other badly. There are no kind words to face the truth but, regardless of how selfish and naive I sound, I’m confident that we can fix it.” He tried to caress your cheek but ultimately decided against it. “I know I can fix it.” All the worries of the past few weeks were finally getting to him. You murmured Lucifer’s name, it was evident that he was crumbling.

“I assure you that I’ll never let this happen again.” Another round of silent tears fell from his eyes. You couldn’t take it anymore, you extended your arms towards him but, this time was his turn to move aside from you. “It’s okay, I’m fine. You don’t have to force yourself.” He said, already regretting his next words. “I know you don’t want me to comfort you, I know you’re not fond of my touch.”

You frowned. “Why do you think that?” You questioned, but Lucifer didn’t want to answer, he was afraid his voice would fail. He didn’t want to show you more of this pitiful side of him. His silence forced you to think, looking back at your previous interactions you realized that although not on purpose, you had still avoided his touch several times. “Lucifer, how can you believe that?”

“Is it not true? Don’t you repulse the idea of me approaching you?” He knew how needy he sounded. He also knew lacking confidence wasn’t his style and probably not what you would expect from the Avatar of Pride but it didn’t matter, he wanted to know.

Looking at an imperfect Lucifer was always unnerving, you’ve seen him before and it never ceases to amaze you how even when he’s crumbling he looks ethereal. Although you didn’t hate it, you preferred his more full-of-himself self.

“I don’t know.” You replied, climbing onto his lap and wrapping your arms around his neck. “What does it look like, my morning star?” you rested your forehead on his, amused at Lucifer’s surprise. He cursed how infatuated for you he was, both the searing pain from his wounds and the memories of your rejections immediately faded when he felt your hands in his hair. It had been a long time since he saw heaven, but your eyes were more than enough to evoke it. “It seems that you pity me.”

He looked how you closed your eyes, a small and genuine smile gracing your face. “Now you’re only pressing your luck, love.” You said, unaware of the happiness you had aroused in him. “Say it again.”

“Now you’re only pressing your luck?” You pretended to be confused. He narrowed his eyes, feigning annoyance at your teasing but it was no use, once he let you see his soft side you could see through all of his facades. “Please?” He asked and you nearly gasped at how ridiculously innocent he looked.

“You’re a real menace, love.” You whispered in his ear and so did he. “Look who’s talking.” He was quick, one hand on your hips while the other cupped your chin. He was slow, your lips were as close as they could be without touching, a clear request from the demon. “Do you still think I don’t like your touch?” You questioned, lips slightly brushing as you murmured.

Lucifer wanted to kiss you, his grip on your hip was tight and his breath was uneven. You drove him crazy. He was certain that you wanted him to initiate the kiss, to show him that you wouldn’t back away, to force him to hang from your hand on the cliff. And so he did. He kissed you, slowly moving his hand from your hip to your back. Enjoying you as a fine wine but drinking you like a thirsty man.

Once that the kiss was broken you shook your head, hugging him and rubbing circles on his back. “I’m sorry, Lucifer, you must be very tired.” He cried against his will, the only way he knows how to. His trembling figure was holding onto you tightly, hiding his tears and shame. “I won’t leave the Devildom, I won’t leave you.” You said softly, trying to put all the love you had into those words. “We can fix this together.” He had stopped crying, soon after he laid his head on your chest. “I apologize for this uncalled for display of weakness.” You pinched his neck in annoyance and he complained with a low growl. “Enough with the fancy attitude. You don’t have to apologize.”

“I love it.” You reassured him, hurt to see him so broken. “I love you.” You said, wiping away his tears. “I’m sorry, I was cruel before.” He shook his head and a long suspire escaped him. “That’s my line, Mc. I said awful things, words I didn’t mean.” He frowned again and you resisted the urge to kiss his discomfort away. “You want to say something else, don’t you?”

“I won’t leave, but I want to stay in Purgatory Hall for some time.” You said, not without hesitation. Lucifer looked directly into your eyes hoping to see some explanation. “You don’t think we can keep you safe.”

“That’s not why.” You hurried to say, watching Lucifer distraught face. “But you won’t tell us who attacked you.” Lucifer moved enough to see your face.

“But surely Barbatos already knows.” You laughed dryly. Did Barbatos really know? Was it possible for him to see the Little D.s in those multiple rooms of his? Did the butler look at them to know the truth? Did he see the past? You felt embarrassed at the mere possibility. Perhaps that was for the best, all of this could finally be over. But where would that leave you? Useless, pathetic, stupid human who couldn’t even defeat their own demons. You watched your hands, useless. You are supposed to be a bridge between the three worlds, you have seven pacts with some of the most powerful beings in hell, your master is the most powerful sorcerer of humanity, that should mean something but… does it?

Are you really special or just a consequence of circumstances? If you couldn’t be of service, if you prove to be weak and incompetent, wouldn’t they be better off with someone like Sc?

But you love them, with all their flaws. You have loved them above anything, putting your own life at risk for them. You didn’t love them because of their intelligence, their strength, or their status. You love them because they were they. They should love you because you are you. So why? Why did they replace you despite all the love they claim to feel? Why did they choose to spend their time with Sc? Why did they treat you like that?

“Is it because I’m not as good looking as her? Or is it because I’m not smart enough? Perhaps I lack what she has to spare.” You saw how Lucifer’s face wrinkled in confusion, of course, he couldn’t read minds (as far as you knew), he wasn’t aware of all the twists and turns you took to end with that question. “What are you talking about, Mc?” You got off Lucifer’s lap and sat on the sofa again, still close to the demon.

“Because she would be a better council officer than me?” You said but your voice was flat and you sounded gone, bored even.

Suddenly, it clicked for Lucifer. He remembered again the face that Mammon had made when he told him how you had lost your trust in them and the sincerity and complete security he had seen in that gaze, because it wasn’t something that his younger brother decided to believe, no, it was something that he could feel, after all, he was painfully honest for a demon. Lucifer had tried to dismiss it, to cling onto that tiny possibility that you still had faith in them.

He wanted to cry again, because his heart threatened to burst out of his chest, probably angry for being forced to belong to such a prideful demon. He wanted to cry because he knew you didn’t trust them, but more than that, you didn’t believe in their love.

“It’s fair, Mc. If you don’t want to believe me when I say that I love you, that I would die for you at any time. It’s understandable and I’ll accept it for now but don’t compare yourself anymore, love. Please, let me protect you.” Lucifer desperately wanted to erase those words and stupid beliefs from your mind, he wanted to remove the blindfold they had accidentally put on your eyes, to let you see just how irreplaceable you are.

You shook your head, your jaw tensing at the inhuman effort you were doing to keep looking into Lucifer’s eyes. Not because it was painful, but because you were afraid of those blurry black spots you could see out of the corner of your eye.

You could see the five Little D.s surrounding you and Lucifer, you knew they were looking at you with eyes as wide as their smiles. You focused on Lucifer’s eyes, beautiful and calm, full of grieve and hope. The same hope you were clinging on. “If you want me to trust you, it’s only fair that I ask you the same.”

Lucifer knew he was egotistical, he himself hid things from you so that you could continue living without a care in the world, so you could be safe. That’s what he’s supposed to do, not the other way around. You should tell him who was responsible for hurting you so he could show them what he’s capable of, what true fear feels like. “Besides, I wouldn’t tell any of you, unless I want a bloodbath in the Devildom.” The Little D.s’ laughter filled the room, you could still feel their eyes on you.

“Why would you want to protect them?” The Avatar of Pride asked, he couldn’t fathom how anyone would show that level of mercy, but if there was someone capable of, it would be you (he had no doubts). You, on the other hand, were building a slow but solid thirst for blood. You were not defeated, you had let yourself hit hard ground but it wasn’t over. They are your demons, yours to haunt, yours to kill. “I’ll stay here for a while. Are you going to be okay without me?”

“No, I won’t.” He simply said, pondering his options, perhaps he should intervene with a direct approach. Maybe he could lock you up until he finds out who hurt you, securing you until he can keep an eye on you at all times. Never let you go more than 5 inches away from him. Always close to his reach. He laughed, passing a hand over his tired face. “Father really knew something when he kicked me out of his place.” He thought. “I’ll be waiting for you, love.” He said instead.

Even if he wasn’t by your side, he would keep an eye on you, taking care of you from the distance until he could earn your trust back. This storm would pass too, he was sure.

“I promise it won’t take long.” You hugged Lucifer again, facing The Little D. of Pride’s face. Smiling at him, a cold and unwavering smirk. “You just wait and get ready, okay? No takesies backsies!” You sang overly sweet, The Little D. of Pride laughed and spoke silently too. “No takesies backsies!”

The face of Lucifer was priceless, a shame that you couldn’t see it. He was completely taken aback, confused to the core by your strange change of mood. He felt like he was on a roller coaster or maybe in an intricate story that he was unable to follow, much like those ramblings Leviathan does. He opted to remain silent, firstly because he didn’t know what would be an appropriate response to “No taksies backsies!” but, most importantly, because he was trying to hide the sinister hunch that, as impossible as it seemed, you were not talking to him.

Part 17???

Taglist: @yuumaofc @kodasstar @sadlily1 @asmolover1234 @gallantys @prefesro @urminebutidontwantyou @fiveofspades @owl778 @unknownbish101 @pinkvelvetcake1 @bontensbabygirl @exrellian @kaiserkisser @cutestpatoootie @makulitsiava

#obey me #obey me fanfic #obey me mc #obey me fandom #obey me gn!reader #obey me lucifer #obey me angst #obey me mammon #obey me barbatos #obey me leviathan #obey me hurt/comfort #obey me little d

[life-winners-liveblog]

Watching Last Life- session 7

Part 3

Pearl: Oh finally, other me, we found her after half a session!

Grian: She is definitely the boogey right? We are all in agreement ...right?

Scott: Well-

Grian: You don't count, you already know the answer... don't spoil it.

~~~~~

Pearl: You know Last Life is like the opposite of Third Life in the alliance department.

Martyn: ...How?

Pearl: Well think of the Third Life alliances! There were more green-red couples then anything else while in Last Life we have the reds mostly working together and the green club thing.

Scott: Huh I guess you are right...never tought about it that way.

Scar: Oh It's probably the air of distrust!

Martyn: ...What?

Scar: Well the boogeyman curse made connection to other people on a personal level almost impossible! So the only way to measure trustworthiness was the next best thing: lives!

Martyn: We had the boogeyman curse in Limited Life and it didn't happen.

Grian: Theres also the rule about not allying with reds so they end up naturally sticking together to be more dangerous which in turn pushes the greens to get closer as well.

Pearl: Plus, Scott can be really convincing sometimes and he was the one to bring to his sides so many people, he basically created the green life alliance.

Martyn: I get it! I get it, geeze let's resume.

~~~~

Grian: Wait I just noticed, since when did Skizz have red hair?

Scott: Since...since he went to red?

Pearl: Did you really just notice? It's not even normal red, It's as bright as an highlighter...

Grian: I had other things to worry on! Don't judge me!

Martyn: ... Other things...like?

Grian: Things.

Martyn: ... Actually now that we are thinking about it why does Skizz have red hair.

Scott: I... don't have a good answer to that... It's just... y'know...Skizz being Skizz.

Pearl: I don't think his hair being neon eye blinding red is just "Skizz being Skizz".

Grian: Do you think he dyed it? Like on purpose?

Martyn: Who would want to have hair like that? On purpose?

Scar: Oh no no no Martyn! Don't judge poor Skizzleman like that!

Martyn: It's fucking neon! It's so bright it probably glows in the dark.

Scott: Ok well then, let's please stop talking about Skizz's hair... ignoring any interesting choices in hair colour does anyone want to discuss litterally anything else or can we continue?

Martyn: No.

Grian: ... Nope, nothing else comes to mind.

Scar: Not really my friend!

Pearl: I'm fine, we can go.

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#trafficblr #traffic series #scott smajor #grian #pearlescentmoon #martyn inthelittlewood #goodtimeswithscar #liveblog #last life

[promptsblog]

hi! i want to start writing a specific fic but i am not sure about the plot. i wanted to write abo with angst? if you have any prompts that would be great :> thanks again love ur blog

I'm really sorry, I've never read A/B/O. I only know about it through Tumblr and youtube. Correct me if I'm wrong... isn't it inherently angsty? Isn't writing A/B/O with angst kinda like writing a coffee shop au with fluff, it's just kind of assumed? I don't think you need me to make angsty prompts for this genre/setting. Nonetheless, I gave it a go, but as I don't know the genre at all this might be a disaster.

• An Alpha's loyalty is tested when a mysterious newcomer with no memories of his past arrives, just as a series of brutal attacks threaten the pack's survival. Despite mutual distrust, the two are forced to work together, uncovering a conspiracy that challenges the very foundation of their world.

• "They say our love isn't natural, that it's a rebellion against the way things should be."

"Then, let's be rebels. My love for you is the most natural thing I've ever felt.

"We may lose everything."

"As long as we have each other, we have everything we need."

• An alpha is challenged for leadership of their pack by a strong rival. In the midst of this turmoil, the alpha discovers their mate is none other than the Omega sibling of their enemy. This revelation tests loyalties, as love and duty clash.

• "This power... it's a curse. It makes me a target."

"Then let me be your shield. Your power is a gift, and together, we can protect it."

"Why would you risk so much for me?"

"Because you're worth it. And because I believe in a world where you can be free."

#writing prompts #promptsblog prompt #romance prompts #prompt set #or you could do a coffee shop au if that's even a thing #omegaverse

[shadowqnights]

*grabs a can opener*

Spill them worms

oh my gosh i started writing out an essay, accidentally refreshed and deleted it, and now i'm back trying to figure out how to word this.

i'm one of the freaks who actually likes mcd aaron and i love rewriting him. and i'm of the mind that one of the best ways to make aaron and aph more interesting in both universes (and fix a lot of stuff in aph's case) is by having them as werewolves - aph, whether knowingly or unknowingly, entering pdh as a werewolf. aaron being a werewolf in mcd. reversing their roles in each universe.

but the aph thing is a whole OTHER can of worms so specifically in relation to the dog rule in mcd. i'm super passionate about werewolf aaron. this is a crash course for some of my rewrite thoughts. strap in because this one is going to be so long i am so sorry.

in my rewrite aaron is actually not a werewolf at all by technicality since he's cursed by a member of the divine. as opposed to the other wolfkin, there's no way for him to have wolf features in his human form, no ears or tail. he's got a purely human form and a purely wolf form - albeit an unusually massive wolf, but in all other manners resembles a natural animal. he can only be one or the other, nothing inbetween.

his backstory ties very strongly into the ultima origins that you see in mystreet as well. simply put because if i start i'm not going to stop - aaron makes a sacrifice to try and save his dying lily, angers a member of the divine and is transformed into this new form as punishment only to find the efforts in vain nonetheless. cue falcon claw's tragedy.

being a wolf fits aaron to me in a number of ways - firstly that he's literally a lone wolf. he's determined to isolate himself, wander alone and unbothered. he believes that the only way to fulfill his end goal is on his own because his beef is personal. there's no need to get involved in other people's affairs. he has walls up, and while being very gruff and self-serving, has a secret soft side - usually with children. otherwise not much matters to him except vengeance and dying. he's a wandering wolf vigilante of sorts, without even meaning to. he describes himself as a broken human. to me he leans entirely into his cursed form in his grief and becomes very much animal. he barely ever speaks as a human and barely even takes that form unless critically injured/fatigued; he is nothing but a wolf. he tries incredibly hard to see the world as an animal would, but there's a frustrating shred of his human morality that forces him to do the 'right thing' - like saving aph, like saving dante. it's also just a plain interesting approach to his character that makes him more complicated

and because he's this gruff, silent old dog who's convinced he has to die alone, of course the young bright kids are going to flock to him. in this way i love indulging in the dog rule in the way that aaron is the oldest, in some ways the wisest and has lived through a lot of hardships in both human and animal form. and in that animal form he can become the perfect mentor for members of the younger cast who need his guidance. as a wolf aaron is more than anything else a survivor, and other survivors tend to seek him out of instinct. he tries to distance himself, insist that he is a lone wolf *doomed* to live out the rest of his days spiraling in animal hate, in anger, fighting and mauling and earning new scars until the day he can kill zane and then die. but that is very much the human part of him reflecting on the animal part. the animal knows violence. the human justifies it because his suffering has led him there.

aaron's dog rule functions best with others. his relationship with aph works best starting from distrust and disinterest and growing into a friendship/mentorship. because there is a canonical foundation for them to have a bond - because they are/were both lords, both once cared incredibly deeply for their chosen people, both have survived hardships and both of them despise zane. they have a mutual goal and their working together makes sense. if you're that one oomf who likes aarmau then i like to think of them in mcd as having a relationship akin to that of Wolf Children (please watch highly recommend) but as a wolf i feel he would make a great mentor for her too. in a way that only aaron specifically can deliver. i don't explicitly make aph animal, per say, the way that nicole and aaron can shift. but metaphorically there is very much something animal in her. same as dante. the both of them, to me, are younger, they're like cubs trailing at aaron's heels and after some time he takes them in, but aren't physically transformed in any way (though i have AUs where they definitely can).

they have differing relationships to him. aph certainly begins as a naive sunshine character - and as she slowly learns about her world and its history, that sunshine fades a little. she wants so badly to fit in amongst the ordinary people of phoenix drop; she works hard to learn and become one of them. even when (in rewrite + rebirth) she becomes lord out of desperation, merely thinking she's doing these people service by keeping phoenix drop alive, she's trying to be One of them. this animal side of aph to me arrives in the form of her magicks. she finds that not only does her light heal, that it is also quite literally a searing, burning light, something that can hurt. worse, that she feels a sickening rush of power, realising that she has this violent and unpredictable form of self-defense. as this naive pacifist, it offers the bridge to a new chapter of her life that she isn't prepared for; it solidifies that she isn't ordinary, that she woke up for a purpose. and that her allegiances are changing - especially in s2, in the wake of everything falling apart, everything being different and wrong, the people who went into irene's dimension with her are very much the only people who understand. she seeks companionship with aaron because she is ashamed of the feelings inside of her, that she describes as animal because she doesn't know what else to make of it. her magicks feel like an animal separate to her human self because in a way those are irene's magicks, that's irene as a distinct Piece of her, and those things are wilder than the body she was reborn in.

-> incorporating parts of loverman into this, also why aph becomes so strongly bonded with katelyn. because their magicks call to each other. fire and light. they both burn and they end up relating strongly to each other and being weirdly attracted to each others magick. they are both destructive and animalistic, it's just that katelyn is far more attached to her humanity.

aph finds aaron's silence comforting rather than disarming. everyone else finds him weird and a little bit offputting / alienating. she is rather comforted by it. she's spent so long trying to learn what it means to be human because she was born into a human body without any memories - so much so that being with aaron, who is hardly ever human, brings her a lot of comfort. in a way, she finds the most peace with people who are very grounded and well connected to the earth and nature - with zoey, kiki, cadenza, namely, and then aaron. her friendship group, excluding that of her guards, have certain connections to the earth and have very nurturing personalities. she's drawn to that by nature (thanks irene!).

and aaron specifically, who spends the most time as a wolf. when he's not fighting, he's hunting, travelling, and resting. in a human form, i feel there's not much for him to teach her because she's already been through this period of struggle in her mortal body - she's already learned from people like garroth, donna, brendan, namely in rewrite. she has people who can teach her how to fight and how to be a diplomat. she's had a number of mentors and a strong circle of friendship to guide her. she has so many human companions. but aaron is so much more complicated than that. as a wolf, i feel she would seek him out as a teacher. even on the more metaphorical sense that she feels like a broken human, and the only individual who could possibly understand or at least empathise with her place in the world is him. she wants to run wild with him, wants to be in the thick of the woods, the middle of nowhere, wants to pretend as if she could be cursed, too, as if she could find a form that relieves her of the weight of human fears. perhaps then she could embrace this power inside of her.

dante is different because its dante and he's ALWAYS different in some way. god. where to begin. okay so dante is also metaphorically animal in a way that is specifically only in reference to his relationship with aaron. he is aaron's brother and a cub to him in a way that starts out transactional. back to the loverman elements of rewrite for a second:

-> at this point aaron is almost Always using his wolf form . ignore that he was human when he saved aph because i didn't know what i was doing yet. aaron, as a wolf, still has a Shred of 'justice', hence why he finds himself so regularly saving people. because even as a human he considered the circle of life very sacred, and in keeping with kul'zac's teachings as a hunter he was very much so respectful of wildlife and only killing out of necessity rather than for sport or selfish gain (as in, hunting for food and using the absolute Most of those bodies, not taking more than needed). he was very faithful to his shepherd in that regard (until the period when he was cursed. but that's a whole other post). post-curse there is a very deliberate change when aaron becomes a little bit carried away but through it all, he is very conscious of that circle of life. that cycle. even as this vigilante figure, he's very specific with the fights he picks. he saves lost children in the woods, he mauls shadow knights & and in short he sees fit to punish the people/creatures who harm the weak and defenseless for sport, for selfish gain, because (1) that personal justice that is a part of his former worship/morality he can't shake, and (2) maybe a small part of him hopes that if he lives that way for long enough, kul'zac will restore him OR take pity on him and let him die.

he's secretly very particular. even when he can't admit it, his sense of justice is strong. saving aphmau was dubious because she was unknowingly in fer salem (southern wolf tribe) territory and was injured. but she cried for help and he answered. but specifically when aaron is hanging around phoenix drop, he's tracking a volatile shadow knight that attacks him immediately in wolf form, and that alone is enough for aaron to decide that the shadow knights (or just merely. the dudes with That scent specifically) are bad and kill regularly in mass for sport, therefore need punishment.

he sees dante for the first time and thinks of him as a bird, a prey animal, because he acts like one. he is skittish and tentative and blindly wandering through unfamiliar woods. and aaron goes ok that one isn't to be hunted. so when later he finds a shadow knight cornering the group including dante, who he vaguely recognises, the Right thing to do is to attack the shadow knight. (which happens to be gene, therefore saving the life of dante + his companions. so by extension saving aph again, plus garroth and laurance).

dante and aaron are all about transaction. aaron saves dante's life. so then when dante finds him bleeding out in the woods, he saves HIS life. the debt is repaid, but then the other does something to begin a new debt, and they become trapped in a cycle. dante kind of despises him because at that point he has such horrifically complex feelings on gene. such terrible baggage that he doesn't know if he hates him for attacking gene or loves him for attacking gene. it's weird and fucked up and more than anything he knows that he at the very least owes aaron something, so with that in mind he grits his teeth and helps to heal him. which is a slow, gradual process, because aaron has a LOT of wounds, more than just the ones gene inflicted in the fight. dante doesn't even know that he has a human form at this point - it's merely his sense of kindness to take pity on this animal that tried to (and possibly succeeded, since he has no idea of gene's fate yet) kill his horrible older brother. in aaron's weakness, he can't control the wolf, so he turns human briefly and dante realises that he's getting involved in something way more complicated than he bargained for. story of his life. still, he perseveres - and aaron is a stubborn, lonely idiot, and a wolf does not need human medicine. so dante gives up on trying to convince him to come back to phoenix drop and treks into the woods on the daily to tend to aaron's wounds. which he protests but all in all is wayyy too weak and tired to actually Fight it.

in this way they very gradually earn each other's trust and aaron begrudgingly hangs around. dante saved his life again, so now he owes ANOTHER life debt. and aaron is all about paying back debts. in his youth his love language was acts of service, his very bonding with lily was full of debts and transactions and trading.

so as a wolf he lets dante stick around and protects him. the cycle of debts continues in increasingly obsessive/codependent ways [in ways that i'm reluctant to talk about unless asked because loverman spoilers but in short aaron becomes a brother figure for dante, relieving him of the baggage left by gene.]

in this way i consider dante a cub because he's young and he's CLINGING to aaron in a way that, while still a little bit pathetic, its made better by the fact that aaron reciprocates some amount of care towards him and they take care of each other. he's a good brother. when they get close, they get CLOSE. it takes a while, of course, like a year+ to fully earn each other's trust. he's a cub in the way that he's young, barely 19 and has been treated akin to a sopping wet stray dog abandoned too many times. and in a metaphorical sense his shelter becomes an older, wiser wolf who is somehow far more kind and gentle and less animalistic than his human biological brother. and beneath that gruff exterior there is genuinely care in aaron; his care for dante specifically re-inspires a certain purpose in him and opens him up to a future Beyond zane that doesn't just involve his own death. in that way, by association, dante to me is a dog/wolf of his own, and would even consider himself as such because of his relationship with aaron. he is very attached to the idea of being non-human because of his suffering, in which i think he would relate so incredibly strongly to aaron. maybe he secretly wishes he too was gifted with a curse that allowed him to endure pain in the form of a wolf and spare him of human things like regret and remorse. and he's drawn to the mystery of the shapeshifting characters - he is enamoured with nicole at first because he is the first to pick up on her fox form.

aaron also draws dante down a path of maturity and sets his character development in motion - he becomes a bit more merciless, brutal, unforgiving, able to stand up for himself better because of aaron's influence. as if he grew up as a dog kicked down, abandoned and mistreated and neglected, and as he grows up he is taught that he has teeth, and he is allowed to use them. plus the fact that you can take dog rule dante really literally and explore his entire life through that lens but specifically i also love the idea that this pathetic human boy is so attached to his teacher/brother, so obsessed with the idea of sharing someone's blood that isn't gene's, that he fully leans into it. he is someone's animal brother. his wolf brother. his kin. they protect each other. and when the time comes aaron has also grown and while he's always been far more gentle and protective over children, he is especially fond of dante's child [ dmitri, not nekoette's rewrite self, i'm a dancole believer. ].

and in this way they kind of make a fucked up little family. dante and aph consider each other brother and sister - dante finds a new brother in aaron, who thus takes on the role of mentorship for aph.

and . and that's literally just a starter. a very basic crash course but yeah idk i approach them in different ways dependant on what AU you're asking me about. everything i've talked about here is specifically rewrite thoughts + dog rule but honestly i wouldn't be opposed to making dante a werewolf in kennel au or something. and aph as a werewolf would also be really cute and i'm a big fan since she already is one in my mystreet rewrite . one big wolf found family.

#sorry i feel frazzled this may make no snese to feel free to ask for clarification or more info anywhere #i love answering asks with giant ass essays sorry i love talking about my rewrite. feel free to ask me questions about any character anytim #welcome to beeland! #sorry this took days i was like. on and off writing this whenever i got the rush of brainworms #bee's buzzing #mcd #minecraft diaries #aphmau #dante #aaron lycan #oh yeah im insane im insane #no one is awake rn so im going to reblog again tomorrow i cant be bothered to schedule shit rn

[mysticwolfshadows]

Taken - Zutara - Part 22

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They get distracted almost immediately.

They meet a Fire Nation Deserter, an ex-admiral. Surprisingly, Katara knows his name.

"You were Zuko's first firebending master," Katara said, when he found her healing others in camp. A few she even knew, and they stared at her like she was a ghost. "Before you publicly denounced Fire Lord Azulon's actions and fled..."

Jeong Jeong studied her. "I had heard the Fire Nation had taken a Water Tribe healer girl... To take someone so blessed, and force her to live amongst the cursed, is a grave crime. But it is good to see the rumors of your death are false."

Katara balked. "My what?"

The firebending master watched her, his eyes on the glowing water in her hands. "After Prince Zuko was banished, word spread that you were dead. The clinic had been set ablaze in the night, and a body scorched beyond recognition found, believed to be you." He paused. "Some rumors said you had been murdered by Ozai, for refusing orders. Others said that you had commited suicide, after being refused the chance to heal the Prince."

She stared. The soldiers that she knew hovered and stared back. "I... see..."

They are forced to leave when Aang is found playing with fire. Katara scolds him, reminding him of the dangers. They fly off, getting distracted by the Northern Air Temple. After convincing the Mechanist to betray the Fire Nation, they help take out the approaching army.

And finally, finally, the Northern Water Tribe is in sight.

A great feast is thrown in their honor, with the chief also celebrating his daughters birthday. A daughter that Sokka tries and fumbles flirting with. When Aang returns from speaking with the chief, he's announced that he found a Waterbending Master.

And then, come morning, Master Pakku refuses to teach her. "Women do not fight here. Train in healing with the rest of the women. If you can stand to be civilized for long enough."

Katara glowered. She had dawned her red fur coat again, the inside stoking the flames of her anger. "Excuse me?"

"You are excused, foolish girl."

"No," she said, standing tall, defiant. "You are foolish. You push aside half of your forces, cripple your own defenses. The Fire Nation Navy contains men and women. While Fire Lord Ozai encourages it for selfish, war mongering reasons, if a citizen has the desire to fight, they can fight."

Pakku returns her glower. "You disrespect me and our entire culture, not just with your words, but your very nature. I will not teach you."

"Then you will fail," Katara said, turning around, hands shoved into her sleeves. "Agna Qel'a will fall, because you are to stubborn to see the real threat."

She leaves Aang with Pakku, knowing that he must learn no matter what. Instead, she wonders the streets. People look at her with suspicion and distrust wherever she goes. Its like when she returned home, but she knew nothing would change how they thought of her.

That night, when Katara met up with Aang and Sokka in their room, Aang had only bad things to say. Pakku was worse than Jeong Jeong, and his attitude made everything more difficult. Katara sighed, knowing that if Aang couldn't learn quickly, they were all doomed.

"Show me what you learned," she said. "Lets see if I can correct you with what I know."

So Aang walked her through the movements, his form shaky. Katara watched, frowning as his hands were open, like an oar cutting through waves. She had always seen firebenders use closed hands, save for when lightning was involved. She had mimiced that, having no one else to learn from, and had developed a deadly speed with ice and snow. Perhaps her closed palms had been what was giving her so much trouble...

She moved forward, mimicking Aang's stance. She followed the movements, frowning, and made an adjustment. The water moved as intended.

"Like this," she said, nudging his feet and guiding his arms.

The water moved as it was meant to.

Aang beamed. "Ah, man! Thanks Katara! I wish you could be my waterbending master."

"For now, we'll stick with evening practice."

For several days, they kept their routine. Sokka would wonder off to who knows where, Katara would ignore looks of disgust as she explored the capital, and Aang would struggle with his lessons. At night, Aang would show her his attempt at whatever they had been working on, and Katara would figure it out before correcting Aang.

But everything was taking to long. There was no time. So Katara decides to come back to the lessons. She doesn't watch Pakku, hiding in the shadows, as Aang tries and fails with each move. When she steps forward into view, Pakku stops.

"I will not teach a treacherous girl! Leave at once!"

Katara circles Aang, not bothering to look at the man. The airbender looks at her in confusion, but continues his movements, as if they were back in their alcove at night.

"I refuse to learn from an arrogent old fool," she said. "Your pride blinds you to progress, to common sense. No, I'm here to teach. Aang, widen your stance. Remember, flow with the water. Let your feet slide, as if over ice."

Aang nodded, his form immediately improving. Pakku roars.

"I will not stand for the insult!"

She feels the water first, the shift in the push and pull. She lifts her head in time to see it, mere inches from her, but its... slow. Shifting one foot forward, she instinctively goes into a stance she had only ever seen Zuko use on flames. Crossing her hands in front of herself, she flung her hands to the side, wrenching control from Pakku and parting the stream of water, sending it pounding like hail into the snow.

Pakku stares. His students stare. Katara laughs.

"Yes, the great master Pakku," she snorts. "Tell me. When was the last time you had any real combat? When was the last time you had to fight just to survive?" Looking down her nose at him, she sneered. "My bending may be self taught, but it is fueled with memories of flames and fear and a need to survive. You insult me, and everything I have done to make it here, by refusing to listen when I speak."

As her words hang in the air, she notices a speck of black drifting down. Her eyes follow it, watching it mar the white snow. More soon follows, and Katara looks up. Black snow falls all around them, thick and dark. It's to much to be just one ship, to just be Zuko. No, this is enough for a siege.

She glanced at Aang, who had stilled in his practice. "Keep working, Aang. Practice what you know. I think it's time that I join Sokka in the war meetings."

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#fanfic #katara #avatar the last airbender #zuko #zutara #wip #atla #fanfic idea