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philtstone · 11 months

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40 (wake-up kisses) Peter/Gamora

i honestly couldnt tell u what this is but i had fun with it. inspired by this amazing fic, which healed something deep inside me. not really spoilers for gotg3 bc this is like, unhingedly removed from canon but also not not spoilers, if u know what i mean

The thing of it is, weirder things have definitely happened to Gamora.

Well -- to her version of Gamora, which is, to use a term, herself. The person whose mind-dream-consciousness she's trapped within is younger, and therefore has had less opportunity to experience weird shit.

Then again, Gamora thinks, there was that whole time travel thing.

"What the fuck," other her is saying. "What the fuck, what the fuck. Get out of my head!"

Ugh.

"I am trying," she says. It's a weird situation. Gamora has always been a little paranoid, to be sure, but even she can admit that her presence in this landscape is quite tangibly not an ordinary dream. She is, literally, in her own head. There are two of them, and it's crowded. She can tell. She can tell. Everyone can tell -- something is very wrong.

And it is not, strictly speaking, Gamora's fault that the fabric of space-time-reality-possibly-also-death is in utter tatters, but it's not like she isn't going to take advantage of it. Her family must be looking for her! Peter must be looking for her! Indeed, she is looking for them! She wants more than anything to be alive right now, and to hold her sister in her arms, and to help Mantis decorate her room, and to laugh over dumb jokes with Groot, and to sing tunes with Rocket, and to kiss Peter on the mouth until she forgets how to breathe and also how to feel sadness. She didn't really think about it too hard when she saw her opening. She just kind of wanted. Full body. Desperately. Death has been super sad, and also super boring.

Oh. Maybe, possibly, that could be a contributing factor to her --their -- sudden predicament. That is, the way she suddenly found herself sharing mind-space with another version of herself, who claims -- irately and with no small measure of panic -- that she was minding her own business, trying to get a decent four hours of sleep in, when she was rudely interrupted by a psychotic parasite.

"Ah!" Gamora makes a loud and offended scoffing noise. "Parasite?! I'm not a parasite, you jerk! I'm me. I'm you, goddammit!"

"No," says other her. "I'm me, and you're in my head! Get out!"

"Why don't you let me out?" she growls back, crossing her proverbial arms. It's weird. Like in a dream, she both does and doesn't have a corporeal body, right now. "You're not even supposed to be here, anyway! This is my timeline!"

"And it's my head!" snarls her counterpart, in a way that is really infuriating if only for the fact that she, Gamora, snarls that way. Who does this idiot think she is, doing it the same?

"Fine," Gamora says to herself. "This is fine. Listen. You wake up from your dream, but when you wake up, instead of being you, you're going to be me. Alright? We understand each other. It'll be fine, because you are me."

"I am not you," snaps ... well, her. "You are dead. You are a weird imposter who has been made up by your crazy friends. You have all these -- these insane experiences and stupid memories! And now they're in my head. I knew I shouldn't have hung around those weirdos for so long --"

Gamora's mouth has dropped open. "Excuse me," she says. "My memories are not stupid. What have you got to offer, death and sadness?"

Other Gamora seems to take great offense at this. "I have great memories!" she yells. "They are very -- pleasant! I feel good things when I think of them!"

Hmph. Please. Gamora was there, okay? So what if there are some new ones sprinkled into the mix. She doesn't have time to explore them now, she's got things to do. Places to be. Peters to kiss.

"Maybe it's a scientific issue," she muses, aloud. "If we got Rocket to zap you with something --"

"I am not being zapped!"

"I would wake up. From this weird dream."

"You are the weird dream!"

She hums to herself; uncomfortably, a small voice at the back of her mind wonders if she really did used to be this transparently aggressive, but she dismisses it, as she has more pressing priorities right now. Animation, for example. Living. Breathing air. Kissing Peter, that is definitely up there.

"Maybe if you pinched yourself," Gamora says. "Oh -- ow!"

Other her looks far too vindictive for her own good. Asshole, Gamora thinks, at the same time her younger self says, "Asshole," aloud.

Well, technically not aloud, as all of this is taking place in her head.

"Stop reminding me," other Gamora grits out.

"Maybe you need to find a tear in space, like a blackhole." That seems too Herculean a task. "Or it's an amnesia thing." No; it's a multiverse, unfortunately. And Gamora refuses to believe she ever used to be such a dick. "Maybe I'm being reincarnated. Denarian Dey once said his cousin believed in that stuff."

Annoyingly, other her has now decided to deliberately ignore her, and is refusing to respond, but instead glaring angrily into the middle distance, which Gamora is realizing is the ugly brown wall of her own bedroom.

Wait -- this is not Gamora's bedroom. Maybe it's just what it looks like in the dream.

"It is mine," over-articulates her evil twin. "And stop calling me that!"

Wait -- but she's just had a brainwave! Evil twins are something that happen in fairytales -- those mythical narratives Peter would relay, that he was told through audiovisual tradition during his childhood on Earth. In Terran myths, the woman trapped asleep in her own body could be awoken with true love's kiss!

Her other self, stuck in this state with her, responds to the slow evolution of this brainwave with a slowly-increasing, compressed, red-hot anger.

"I got it!" Gamora says excitedly, ignoring herself. "Peter can just kiss me awake! He does it all the time -- it'll be easy."

"OH," yells her other self, "WILL YOU JUST SHUT UP!"

Gamora freezes. Through her own muddled emotions she feels the keen and sudden prick of overwhelming negative emotion, so visceral she cannot help but real back. She wasn't expecting such a whole-hearted roar of anger, at any rate.

"What is your problem?" she asks, angrily.

"My problem?" Eyes flashing, tense, curled in towards herself, the bitter tang of something deep within her belly ... "My problem? I just want to live my own stupid life! I'm not you! You're the -- the -- the weird audiovisual myth!"

Gamora blinks, sifting her way through three layers of her own muddled emotions.

A stuttering wave of gentleness seeps into her fingers.

Yes, her younger self was aggressive, and angry, but never more so than when she was jealous, envious, confronted by everything she yearned, so close but so impossibly out of reach.

"Oh," says Gamora.

She feels herself turn away, in this weird dream that is not a dream.

It's still a fucking mess, she thinks. But maybe she can learn to be a little kinder to herself.

"I'm sorry," she says.

Uncomfortably, other Gamora jerks her chin. Then softens by an increment. Then shrugs. Then, finally --

Looks suddenly and oddly guilty.

"Thanks," she says.

"Don't mention it," says Gamora.

"Uh, it's just. Well. About the magical morning kiss thing. I ... might have broken up with him."

And, very instantaneously, all thoughts of self-kindness fly out of Gamora's head.

"You WHAT?!"

#like listen did i love vol3? yes. do i also just think og gamora should pop back into existence? very much yes #both of those things can be true in the same universe!#touches prompt meme #after 84 years ....#this doesnt actually count as me processing my emotional damage lol. i simply refuse to be a child of divorce #starmora #guardians of the galaxy #gamora #gotg vol3

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redskysailor · 2 years

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god is in everything. btw.

#the whole world man #i get it now. i Understand.#i don’t really. but i do. but i can’t explain it #there is a point in every girl’s life at which she must think about math and physics and fourth dimensional beings #and she will get a glimpse at god.#and it will be so much for her that she will have to go lay down for a few hours to process.#and she still won’t understand it all completely but that’s okay because maybe we weren’t meant to.#i felt like one of those mortals in greek myths who accidentally looked at a god in their true form and it made their brains melt #i love you math i love you physics i love you science i love you dimensions i love you every small thing that is the same as a big thing and #big things that are the same as small things and i love you infinite progression and infinite regression #and the concept of infinity sprawling out forever in both directions #maybe more directions than that even. who can say. not me at least #feeling very ‘‘billy pilgrim has come unstuck in time’’ today lads #so it goes…#goodnight dear universe 💞💞💞💞#freshly squeezed

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abyssalpriest · 20 days

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Ahhh I was sitting thinking on Lev's connections to various sun deities and which ones involve him and which don't. They vary between him himself, his sons, him originally now someone else, his archetypes, he uses some names occasionally, he shares other names, some are conceptual Sun Things he's tied to as a sun deity, etc....

But you know. I wasn't expecting to get thrown into a copy of... what is this?? Rig Veda?? On to a page he opened months ago when I tried to open a different file, and now I'm getting schooled on Surya

#Godddd. All the Seven Versus Six stuff is fucking wild. Because that's like. Lev's thing lmfao #The Six That Are Seven. The shatkona is a diagram of 7 points. Seven rays of the Sun. seven horses on the charior #chariot. reading through this part and it keeps saying like ''those who know tell me'' and ''those who have good eyes will know'' and I'm #like yeah. lmfao. I know. This is the Sun King - the king of Six=Seven #But also. Surya AFAIK is just a name he uses. Or I presumed before reading this that yeah that's someone in his lineage or someone #he oversees or knows that's Surya... But now I'm like. We're you once Surya? Don't smile at that #Anyway. I do love how Lev's approaching this with me by just entertaining various configurations of truths that are true when #isolated but not the full picture and then just. reconfiguring them. I need to keep reading but #I mean. I need to keep reading to form an opinion on Surya but all I know is this whole talk on the six and seven like bruh #OK. Well. It's at least your family yeah that's very signature lmfao #Especially getting into ''the seven were created at the same time. Six of these are connected like twins. Although they function #independently they were created at the same time and have the same origin.'' like yeah. I mean. Yeah. They're paired #The shatkona shows they're paired in three groups and it's really really significant to understand that they originated #from the same point that's like Key Gnosis lmfao that the shatkona display of the seven... They're intermingled. They are separate #and they are from the same point. Oh yeah. ''the learned ones use seven different types of thread to create the universe that can #be seen and lived in'' again! Yes! Those With Eyes weave the tapestry created by the seven/six and the reality they create #is the one perceived and lived in because outside of that is the source of the six and the six exist both inside each other and creating #themselves as a whole in - anyway #ramblings //

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sepherinaspoppies · 22 days

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Riding the Dragon- Modern! Aemond Targaryen x Reader

summary: after a great dinner with Aemond, he decides to give you a ride on his motorcycle, a Dragon T6.

warnings: 18+, MDNI, public smut, pussy on bike, cum play?, reader getting off on Aemond's bike, some tiddy succin, mentions of p in v sex, I think that it?

wc: 3,064

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dividers by @firefly-graphics

masterlist

click here for a tiktok that gives off aemond in this story lo

notes: this is my first time writing in reader's pov? the whole 'you' kind of perspective. I apologize if it sucks ass, I wanted to try something different. And can y'all believe I wrote majority of this when I was ovulating? HAHA

“I had a really nice time tonight.” The man in front of you says with a content and flirtatious smile on his pretty chiseled face.

Heat coats through your cheeks to the tip of your ears. Definitely not the effect of the two glasses of wine you’d drunk not too long ago. Wine hardly ever did a number on you to slightly fuddle your conscience.

You give him a sheepish grin, scraping the tips of your heels against the pavement, shying away from the intensity that his eye holds. “Same here. I hope we can do this again sometime.”

His face contorts in a way that clearly indicates that the feeling is in fact very, mutual. “Mind if I take down your number?” He asks, pulling out the latest new Iphone from his pocket. You only engaged in conversation through the dating app both of you met in and you thought it seemed only fair to give him your number after weeks of meeting him.

He taps a few things on his screen before you’re met with a white screen with only your first name and birthday typed. It is then when you wonder how he came about on knowing your birthday, if you had ever mentioned it in your electrifying conversations either on the app or this date. Most likely the second option.

You knew his name, well if you’d call it that, supplying you only his first initial. By his angelic looks, he was definitely of Valyrian descent. And you hate how much of a sucker you were for those blonde bitches. You knew he was in the last year of university, double majoring in political science and business here in the capital. You also knew he had a geriatric maine coon cat, Vhagar, who’d stuck with him since he was a child.

But that was pretty much it.

You nod, typing out the most critical information both of you needed in order to secure the second date. “Here you go,” you hand back his phone with such caution that causes his lips to quiver in a smirk.

He leans forward, too forward in a way you feel his breath steadily fanning your face and the warmth that radiates through his chest. You don’t pull away as his head lowers, keeping your gaze steady with his, admiring the amethyst hue of his lone eye that twinkles against the low street lights.

A snakes his hand around your hips, which normally you’d slap away if it was any other man. But he was different. A rare gentleman who bought you a single winter rose even when you were five minutes late, let you devour the fries off his plate, and hashed your steak without asking.

You wanted him to kiss you and perhaps even more.

You wouldn’t say no. If anything you’d whimper out a simple “please” if it came to that.

However, just as you expect his lips, it doesn’t come. He pulls away with a lupine smirk on his face, waiting for a response to a question you did not hear.

You cough away the slight embarrassment, “What?”

“I asked what your password was,”

Before you process how he did it, you see him wave the gray screen of your phone around your face, waiting for the six digit code.

Oh.

“I got your number but you did not get mine and you’re gonna need it when I take you out to dinner again.” The blonde in front of you points out.

True.

It almost feels too goofy revealing the code that multiple of your friends tease you for. Nevertheless, you stutter out the numbers: one, two, three, four, five, and six.

You hear him dryly laugh, shaking his head side to side as he types out the three sets of numbers. “Mmm, you need a better password, darling. One might think you want your personal information stolen,” He teases. You shift your thighs to a close at the term of endearment, already feeling the slightest tingles in a place where you desired him the most.

You make a sound of agreement making a mental note to change it later tonight. After he hands back your phone, he combs back the loose silvery hair out of his face into a neat bun that well flatters his face. “Take mine for example; it’s five, twenty-two, one-thirty. Easy to remember.”

“Is that your cat’s birthday?” You questioned.

“No. It’s the day we matched on Tinder.”

You are lost for words. Not even you knew the exact date you matched with him, only knowing it was around a few weeks ago. Judging by your reaction, he knew what you were thinking.

After a few more rounds of flirtatious conversations, you both decided to call it a night, waving each other goodnight as you watched as he sped up in a black, shiny Dragon T6, a vintage motorcycle that was the second most precious thing he owned. (The first being Vhagar). You’d be lying if that wasn’t one of the list of reasons why you swiped right. A tall Valyrian man, with long locks, that rode a motorcycle definitely modeled the countless dark romance books you’d spent hours reading.

To your frustration, the price of Uber had doubled the amount you’d paid for hours ago. Not even Uber Share happened to be near your price range. For ten gold dragons, you could buy a week’s worth of groceries!

So you sighed, turning off your phone. Your usual bus was still in service and way cheaper than the ridiculous prices of Uber. And while it was too late to be out by yourself, it was a risk you were willing to take.

As you rummage through your wallet for some copper coins, you hear a deep, rumbling sound of an engine revving up close to where you stand.

It’s him. Braking his bike on the side of the road where you are. His expensive Lysene suit coat no longer hugged his body, wearing only a white dress shirt that was half unbuttoned, giving you an impeccable view of his perfectly rounded cleavage and the multiple hidden tattoos you didn’t know he had.

“Hop in,” He says, pointing his head to the side. It was not a request but a demand.

You tilt your head, unsure whether to say yes or no. “Is it safe?” You ask. His chest moves, seemingly laughing as he opens the visor of his helmet. “Of course it is. I’m a cautious driver, never had an accident and I don’t think I ever will. I made sure to drink water after a glass of wine, so I’m not under the influence.”

He narrows his eye, observing the hesitation written throughout your face. He offers the spare helmet from his bag and hopes that it will coax the uneasiness.

“If you’re so dubious about it then by all means the bike is yours to drive.”

It’s your turn to laugh because the thought of you riding something of high value and rarity seemed absurd and silly. You were someone who did not have experience in driving in general whilst also being terrified of the narrow and steep roads of King’s Landing.

But there was no humor in A’s eye.

“You’re not serious are you?”

He powers off the bike before he scoots back from his seat. “I am.” He eagerly pats the spot he has saved for you.

“You do realize that this is a Dragon T6, right? They practically don’t make these anymore!” You gesture your hands around the expensive looking machine that was probably worth more than your left kidney.

He clicks his tongue, crossing his arms on his chest. “What’s your point?”

You scoff playfully, “My point is that manufacturers don’t make these anymore and if I crash it–”

“–You should have a little more faith in yourself. Maybe this will come naturally to you but you’ll never know if you don’t try.”

You can’t help but exhale in slight failure. This was a conversation you knew you couldn’t win with him. “Look, I’m not going to pressure you into something you don’t feel comfortable doing but I happen to be a great teacher. And if you do crash I’ll buy another, they aren’t that expensive anyways.” The Valyrian man shrugs as if thousands, or hundred thousands of gold dragons were nothing.

You mutter a “fine” under your breath which makes him all giddy with excitement and slides the helmet down your head. He double checks if it's secured before he lifts you to sit properly on his bike.

“Or I have one or two things in mind of how you could repay me.”

Every single piece of information he hurled your way was taken deep into your head. And you did your best to pay attention to it all under the sharp needles of nerves going through your spine. At some point he had given you little rubs up and down your back to soothe your nerves. The effect was anything but that, instead all you could think about was how his hands would feel against the bareness of your body.

Fuck.

You tried to push those lewd thoughts away as he demonstrated the anatomy of the Dragon T6. The ignition was a little red switch right below the speedometer, whilst the clutch was on the left hand side and the accelerator in your right. The gear shift was something you had to get used to as it was not on your eye level but rather a small little lever near your foot.

Once he feels you’ve gotten the grasp of how everything works it was time for the ultimate test. “Alright now we start. Are you ready?” He asked with an eager smile tugging his lips.

No.

You nod your head, adjusting the mirrors to match your height. You feel the tips of his fingers lift and turn your chin towards him, “Use your words, darling.” There it was that name again that made you clutch your thighs together. You audibly gulp, “Y-yes I’m ready.”

“Good,” His hands squeeze at your hip bones to bring you closer to him. Your eyes widen almost comically to what you assume is his cock pressing insistently onto your ass. It was hard, and through the thin material of your dress you could feel it throbbing full of want and need. Gods, how will you ever focus now?

A brief image flashed through your mind of how much and what was packing underneath his undergarments. The length and thickness and how it would feel wrapped around your palm as you’d stroke him from base to tip, or the taste of him as you’d take him inside your mouth, or having his full length stuffed deep inside you as he fucked you dumb.

Something tells you that he knows what you are thinking but neither of you speak about it.

Finally, he takes your hands onto the handles of the clutch and the accelerator and you, being a step ahead, check if the gear is on neutral before you release the clutch and to your satisfaction it is. The blonde behind you smiles at you proudly like a teacher would to their student.

“Now, you’re gonna slowly release the clutch and twist the accelerator slightly…there you go, good girl. You’re doing such a good job.” He coos at your ear.

The beat of your heart raced almost out of your chest. You weren’t sure if it was the excitement of a small accomplishment or the low timbre of his voice praising you but you welcomed it.

With confidence you didn’t know you had, you decided to drive the rest of the way to your apartment without complications and took up every tip the man behind you advised. The cool air kissing your skin and the adrenaline wildly pumping through your veins, awoke something in you and slowly you began to comprehend why A loved riding.

You had felt like a small bird taking its first flight through the skies.

When you both reached the parking lot to your apartment, you returned his helmet and a small part lingering inside you did not want to let it go. You enjoyed it and the freedom it brought you.

“That was so fun! I can’t believe it was that easy. Think I need to save me up for one of these,” You quipped patting the bike.

He throws his head back to let out an amused laugh, “Or I can just give you this one,” A tone of nonchalant laced through his voice.

You look at him baffled, “I was–”

“–But first we need to get you your license before I–”

“–Absolutely not, I was jesting.” You snipped, making him roll his eyes with a slight pout drawing out his lips.

“You’re stubborn and difficult, has anyone told you that?” You chortle thinking of the numerous times you’ve been called that.

“Plenty of times but I reckon this won’t be the last.”

He hums tucking a loose piece of hair behind your ear, “I guess I have to fuck it out of you.”

You blink.

The hue of your cheeks increased tenfold, your feet and body became paralyzed to what he had just confessed.

Had he just said that to shut you up? If so it worked.

You didn’t know how to respond to something as bold as that and to your inclination you lowered your head but the blonde behind you couldn’t have that. You felt the tips of his fingers roughly grip your jaw to meet his gaze. The amethyst hue of his eye turned into a darker shade of violet as he eyed between your eyes then your lips.

Every part of you screamed for him to kiss you or to do something to appease the longing.

You instinctively parted your lips when his head began to dip towards your lips. The tip of his nose brushed delicately against your own then it slowly trailed to sniff at your neck, the sweet smell of spiced peaches.

“Nyke jaelagon ao,” He whispered in his mother language.

“Pār emagon issa,” You said before you mentally said ‘fuck it’ and knocked the wind out of him with a kiss.

He lets out a mix between a growl and a groan as he feels your wandering hands tugging the roots of his hair. Something you yearned to do ever since you saw how long and silky his hair was.

And Gods did it meet your expectations.

His lips moved against yours most ardently and with equal fervor. It was hungry and needy the way your teeth clashed with his, tongues dancing for dominance until you hissed when he bit your lower lip.

You melted into his warm embrace, deciding to tease him by rubbing your palm on his clothed length, detecting a damp patch. You shot your eyes open, separating away your lips.

“Did you just cum?” You panted heavily.

A smirked, “I came when you first got on the bike and I was about to cum right now.”

You quirked a brow, “That’s what did it for you?” Redness coated his cheeks and before you knew it his lips were on you again and his hands lifted the hem of your dress, exposing the black lacy panties you wore just for him.

“Incase you get lucky,” Your best friend Sara teased just the day before when you and her took a shopping trip to a Lysene lingerie store.

Through some imaginary telepathic communication, you thanked Sara.

He groaned feeling the wetness that gathered through your folds. You weren’t just wet, you were dripping like honey on a hot summer’s day. A mischievous idea popped into his mind, something so lewd that made the head of his cock twitch with excitement.

You squealed as he swiftly turned you around and twisted the ignition switch on. Was he going to make you drive in this state?

“Move your panties to the side.” He commanded behind you.

You pushed away the curiosity and did what he bid you to do. “Good girl. Now lean forward a bit.” You shifted yourself forward until you could feel the warm metal of his seat pressing tenaciously at your bare cunt.

A gasp turned into drawn out moans as the blonde behind you revved the accelerator at a speed that made stars appear in your eyes. It felt good, so obscenely good that all thoughts about being in a public setting flew right over your head.

You began to grind yourself with the vibrations, creating as much friction to your bud as you could.

“That’s it, darling,” He encouraged behind you, increasing power to the accelerator just enough for your arousal to coat his bike. “Fuck yourself on my Dragon.”

You clenched around nothing, whining as you felt the pure waves of ecstasy slithering down your spine. It was unlike anything you ever felt, not even the vibrator you owned made you topple over the edge.

In ten seconds or less, you loudly moaned, not caring who heard or saw you, as your legs shaked and the coil around your stomach loosened, cumming absolutely hard.

Your limbs felt entirely spent as if you ran three laps around Rhaenys’ hill.

“Mmm, do not get too comfortable, now, darling.” He boasted smugly as his fingers scoop your honey to his lips, humming at the delicious taste. “I haven’t even fucked you senseless yet and after witnessing this I want nothing more but to ruin your ability to walk straight for week.”

A low whine escaped your lips at the thought of him roughly taking you. “Is that what you want?” He questioned, lowering the straps of your dress to expose your breasts to his gaze.

You sighed contently, feeling his tongue enclosing around your perk nipple. “Yes please,” You tenderly loop your fingers through his hair.

“I promise I will never make you beg,” He murmurs against your breast, “But you sound so pretty when you do.”

He had kept true to his word as he not only bent you over his bike as he fucked you raw, but took you three more rounds on your couch, bed and shower until you absolutely passed out in his arms. And for the rest of the week you couldn’t walk straight without limping. Thanks to Aemond Targaryen.

general taglist: @dreaming-for-an-escape @marvelescvpe @omgisrdj @ramsip @silentf @thenightmistress @dixie-elocin @namelesslosers @gigi-panecillo @laureeedn @watercolorskyy @seabasscevans @kittendoll05 @fullmoonworshipper @bunbunbl0gs @summerposie @dusicapopilic @tulips2715 @kckt88 @chaoticwinnercupcake @folksriddle @ficsandsin @nyx-daughterofchaos98 @qweencrimson @slytherized @qyburnsghost @tofujiji @saturnssrings @janeety @thought--bubble @theunburt @mandiiblanche @iamkookiesforyou @jeben196 @just-a-harmless-patato @moneypriestess @ladymoon666 @angelinap09

empty is who I couldn't tag sowwy besties.

#aemond targaryen one shot #aemond targaryen x you #hotd fanfic #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond #one shot #kinda smutty #aemond one eye #prince aemond #house of the dragon

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wandasgf · 2 months

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WUNDAGORE. 18+. mdni.

pairing: villain!wanda maximoff + avenger!reader

summary: wanda gets rid of that pesky memory block of yours

warnings: angst, emotional and mental manipulation, mentions of murder, pet names, reader is overwhelmed and confused, one (1) mommy, allusion to smut at the end

wc: 1.6k~

a/n: кошечка (koshechka) = kitty

The wind that blows past is frigid and the rocks underneath your hands are sharp-edged and cold as you stare up at the Scarlet Witch or whatever the hell Wanda was calling herself these days from your place on the ground. You’re tempted to try and kick her feet out from under her where she’s standing above you, catch her off guard and send her tumbling down the cliff, but you don’t. You just glare up at her, knowing that even if you managed to catch her off guard, she would never fall that easily. She would rise up like the most beautiful archdemon you’ve ever seen and deal whatever damage you’d dealt to her tenfold. To anyone who might be watching, lurking in the shadows but not daring to interrupt either of you, the look in your eyes is one of pure hatred, disgust in its purest form that mirrors the look in Wanda’s eyes. But you both know it’s not true, that the hatred disguises something much worse. Something you’d never admit even in the emptiest of places, something Wanda would only ever admit in your dreams. Something that would destroy you both if you’re not careful.

“You’re disgusting.” You spit, icy and cold. “Destroying those universes like it’s nothing, like they’re nothing.” You finally get your bearings back, standing up and clenching your fists at your side, trying your best not to just hit her, punch her, shove her down, anything. “All for what? So you can get back a man who tried to kill you?” Jealousy. “A man who wanted to destroy the universe and start over to create the perfect humanity? You know, the more I think about it, the more I think maybe the two of you really are meant for each other.”

“Shut the fuck up!” Wanda hisses, and you think she might push you down again, but instead she pulls you closer to her by your collar. You can feel her warm breath against your skin and you have to repress a shiver. “You think that you know everything about everyone, don’t you? You think I’m doing this for that man? You think any of this is for him?” She laughs like you’ve just said the most absurd thing she’s ever heard. “You really are stupid, aren’t you?” It’s almost comical to her that you really think that, that you’re so god damn blind that you can’t see what’s right in front of you. She knows why you can’t see it, of course, but she hadn’t always realized how susceptible you were. You can’t see that she’s been trying to find another universe, any other universe where you don’t hate her anymore, where she didn’t fuck everything up and the Avengers didn’t take you away from her.

She knows she should stop talking, she knows she should shut her mouth before she makes things worse, but she can’t stop herself. She knows how to play the role of the villain to a T now, and if the only way she gets to be close to you again is to make you cry then so be it. “You think you’re better than me because you kill people in the name of the Avengers instead of your own?” She laughs, her grip on your shirt tightening. “I have some news for you, little hero, you’re certainly no better than I am. What is it that keeps you there, anyway? You know you don’t belong there.” It’s a low blow, but she knows how true it is even if you no longer do, “Is it the Russian? Do you stay so you can see the look of approval in her eyes whenever you kill someone for her?” Jealousy. “But you’d do it even if she didn’t ask. I’d say you and I are rather the same, wouldn’t you?”

“Fuck you!” The smirk that curls on her lips makes you nauseous and you push her away from you. You know that she let you, loosened her grip on your shirt so you could feel like you’re even half as strong as she is, but you don’t care. “I think that I know everything? What about you! Acting like you know anything about me besides what my blood looks like on your hands.” Your hands are shaking both because of the look Wanda gives you and because you’re upset that she would ever bring up Natasha. Upset at the possibility that this encounter would taint your relationship with the Russian redhead, that Wanda’s words would burn at the back of your mind like acid. Because it’s not true, what she said is not true. You don’t like killing those people, you don’t like seeing their blood on your hands or seeing the light drain from their eyes. You don’t like it. You don’t.

Wanda doesn’t have to look into your mind to know what you’re thinking, it’s written all over your face. She knows she hit a sore spot with that comment. “I don’t know anything about you?” She tilts her head, taking a step towards you as you take one away from her. “You always talk,” another step forward, “like you know,” and another, “what you’re saying” and then another, you try to take another step backward, but your back hits the jagged wall of the cave, “but you don’t, do you?” Wanda hadn’t been this close to you since she had nearly torn your heart out of your chest and it was making you dizzy. Had she always smelled this familiar and good? You’re very purposefully avoiding eye contact, not wanting to see the satisfaction in her eyes at having cornered you. Suddenly you feel Wanda’s hand gripping your face and forcing you to look at her, “No, you don’t. I’ll fix it, don’t worry.”

Wanda’s eyes glow red for just a minute and you feel like there’s a fog in your brain being lifted before your memories crash down on you like a tidal wave. Wanda’s eyes go back to their regular green color and her hand moves to cup your cheek, her darkened fingertips tapping against your skin. She gives you a second, knows this is going to be a lot for you. She did just unlock over 5 years of forcefully forgotten memories after all. She wasn’t going to do this, it will result in everything the Avengers have at their disposal being thrown at her for taking away their leverage over her, but they shouldn’t have let you come alone and she was growing rather tired of hearing you hurl insults at her and seeing the way you beamed up at Natasha whenever she caught the two of you together. This was poor planning on the Avengers’ part, that’s all.

Suddenly you feel nauseous, every memory you’ve ever had with Wanda hitting you with full force. You feel like you’ve just gotten a metal bat to the gut and then again to your head. You don’t know what to think. Was this real? Did Wanda plant those in your head? No, that didn’t seem right. This would certainly explain the way certain Avengers acted around you and the way you felt when Wanda was near. You were explaining that away as anxiety, nervousness over being so close to someone to dangerous and vile. You lean into the warmth of Wanda’s touch before you can even think about stopping yourself. She can see the way your mind is racing, how your pupils are blown as you try to piece everything together. Eventually, you look up at her with those doe eyes you used to use on her and she almost tears up. “Wanda?” There you are.

“Hi, кошечка. You must be so confused, huh? I know it’s a lot, but I promise things will be better now.” Your head spins at her words and her tone, that tone… everything is too much and not enough all at once. Too much information, but at the same time not enough. Why didn’t you remember any of that before? Why were you ever trying to hurt Wanda? Why was she hurting you back? Was she hurting you back? Why had she been doing all of those horrible things? Your Wanda would never do those things. Except, well, this was your Wanda, so surely that makes it excusable, right? But if she was your Wanda, why weren’t you with her? Wanda taps against your cheek to catch your attention again, noticing how unfocused your eyes are as you spiral in your own mind. “Those Avengers were so mean to take you away from me like they did, trying to turn you against me.”

“I don’t… I don’t understand. Why would they do that? I thought they were supposed to be nice, why would they take me from you? Why would… why?” You’re slowly putting the pieces together while trying to cope with the fact that for the past two years you’ve been treating your… your Wanda like an enemy. Your tough exterior is cracking and crumbling as each second goes by, no longer being kept back by the mental barrier you didn’t even know was there. “Oh, my sweet girl, because they’re not nice. They’ve been keeping you like a caged animal, using you like a weapon and tricking you into trusting them.” Wanda’s voice soothes you if only slightly, but the thought of being used like that has you so angry and overwhelmed with all the emotions clashing in your head that you can’t help but let out a quiet whimper, tears forming in your eyes. Wanda coos, bringing you closer and holding you against her chest. She strokes your hair, humming softly before she speaks again, “It’s okay, mommy’s got you. I’ll make it all better, don’t worry.”

#alice's fics !#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff x you #scarlet witch x reader #scarlet witch imagine #wanda maximoff smut #scarlet witch smut

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ma1dita · 3 months

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buddy system

a ‘partners in crime’ installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: 4.2k

summary: (pre-established relationship) The one where he comes with you to rescue your twin brothers, Pollux and Castor. A weekend 'quest' teaches you a lot about Luke, and about yourself too. Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader

a/n: um i cant apologize for this word count and ive been looking at this for too long so fuck. Anyways do yall think Luke felt bad when he found out Castor died in battle because of his army in this universe? just me?? okay :) also trouble gets a cool magic item that makes an appearance here, kinda works like polyjuice but with smoke

(posted 2/7/24 betad by lovely ellie @lixzey might edit again when i get some sleep)

—

“No. You might be my father, but you’re crazy, man!”

You’re standing in D’s office at the Big House, and what was supposed to be a short talk before the counselors’ meeting has turned into a full-blown argument. It’s hard to focus on anything other than the words leaving your godrent’s mouth.

You’re going to pick up your little brothers.

“Those two statements are both true, kid. You’re old enough to understand that!”

They need your help.

“You’re really letting your 16-year-old daughter drive down to Florida by herself to pick up some kids she’s never met? Won’t even send me with any quest companions, or like, Grover?” you say exasperatedly, before slumping down into a seat.

“Think of it as family bonding! They’re great from what I remember. You all need to get along anyway.”

Whether it was jealousy or the sudden urge to be petty, you impulsively grab your dad’s Diet Coke and chug it, crushing the can with your fist as a tiny act of rebellion.

Another one appears on the desk and you chuck it over your shoulder. Mr. D sighs as he conjures another one, to which you do the same thing.

“I can do this all day, kid.”

“So can I, and you know if I do, we’ll be sitting here until I’m 40,” you say expectantly, tapping your fingers on the hardwood surface of his desk.

“What do you want?”

The keys to his car are a start, as well as extra pocket money—but there was something, or rather, someone missing to make sure this weekend goes as smoothly as possible.

Your smirk widens at your father, and he wonders when you’ve gotten good at playing his own game.

It’s like looking into a mirror but his worst nightmare manifested as a teenage girl.

—

There are only two things Luke can think about when he hears the sound of your laughter.

The first is that, unlike your angelic singing that could rival the Muses, your laughter takes after the sound of a maniac, an incredulous crescendo that only something curated by Hades in the deepest pits of Tartarus could produce. It was almost madness-inducing, and it went off in his brain like you were a siren (although he means the kind used for weather advisory, he too gets lured in by your laughter each time he hears it like he’s lost at sea).

Second, as he watches you storm down the lawn of the Big House, your anger brewing something comparable to a Category 5, he raises an eyebrow and thinks, well this ought to be good. Or entertaining at the very least.

“You,” you growl at him, guttural and sharp like the finger you jab into his chest, “we’re going on a quest!”

“Me?” Luke blurts, eyebrows furrowing at you.

A loud groan echoes through the grassy space between the house and the counselors as everyone looks up to see Mr. D dragging his hands down his face at the sheer thought of his daughter causing him more gray hairs.

“That’s not what we agreed on, kid!” “If you want any of your children to come back to this hellhole in one piece I need backup!” “There’s more of you?”

Both you and your dad glare at Luke now, like he’s interrupting a private conversation.

“Since when do you like asking for help, princess?”

Mr. D’s arms are crossed over his chest as he speaks to you. Though your height severely differs due to the wooden steps of the Big House, the air is palpable with fear only an Olympian could invoke, reminding the counselors that the man wearing the ugliest Hawaiian shirt known to humankind, is in fact inhuman. You, however, are standing tall in the freshly-cut grass in your combat boots with wrath that could rival Ares’ as you stare your father down like the rest of them wouldn’t get struck into the next lifetime due to your impertinence, as Annabeth loves to call it. She looks up at Luke, with her eyes conveying that she thinks you must be clinically insane, but he knows that already so he shrugs.

“I’m not asking for it, I’m demanding it. Besides, he’s like my ESA,” you say, then taking Luke by surprise as you grab him by the wrist and drag him off the front lawn. You think you can hear Beckendorf and Clarisse bite back chuckles.

“Someone tell Rodriguez he’s in charge of 11!” you yell into the air, and words of affirmation and good luck are muttered in response.

“Don’t I get a say in this, trouble?” Luke says playfully, tugging at your arm lightly but unresisting as you sigh and pull him along. Who in their right mind says no to a long weekend away from this place? Monsters and demigods be damned.

“No. Besides, they’re gonna need more luck than we do.”

“Liam, I don’t know why she trusts you, but if my daughter dies, I’ll make sure you’re next!” Mr. D yells out to your retreating figures, and all of the counselors turn to face him realizing that without you, well… that means he actually has to be in charge.

“So what’s the meeting supposed to be about, Annabelle?” Mr. D says, looking at Annabeth only knowing that she’s supposed to be the smart one—and the small girl sighs.

This is gonna be the longest weekend yet.

—

You’re speeding down I-95 with the windows down and the wind brushing through both of your hair. While Luke watches you from the passenger seat with the road signs blurring past his periphery, he also notices that it’s the first time in a while that he’s seen you this carefree. With both of you taking up counselor positions a few months ago, and your dad appointing you to be in charge of all of them (because why have a counselor for a population of one), there’s a lot about you that’s grown up in the two years you two have known each other. But what type of demigod gets to enjoy their childhood anyway, right? Luke can only remember bits and pieces of his.

“How do you even know where we’re going? I can barely read the signs,” he asks.

“Cool blessing from my stepmom. Ariadne’s chill. We talk sometimes and she likes that I keep D in check, so now I can never get lost,” you grin toothily, violet eyes flickering to meet his.

“Was it true what your dad said? That you trust me?”

His voice is a bit louder than it should be over the wind tunnel that blocks out the sound of the radio as the air whips in and out of the car.

“Well, I wouldn't say trust,” you drag out, leaning back against your seat with your eyes still on the road, “More like if I got abducted by a harpy, I think you could cut its wings off and give me a fighting chance at living.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t invite Mason to come,” he mumbles, and you smirk.

“Who?”

His hands are clenched in his lap as a blush brushes his cheeks, windswept in the rays of the late summer sun.

“Your boyfriend. Wouldn’t he be a better companion?”

Something about the older son of Apollo always ground his gears. It was even worse that you both would sing Broadway musicals together during his sparring sessions. Your harmonious voices echoing from the amphitheater aside, the repetitive grating feeling in his stomach reminds him not to go see Hamilton if he ever makes it out to the city.

“He’s not…” you huff, tapping your fingers on the steering wheel as you think hard on what to say next, “He’s nothing serious.” You pull the sun visor down as you squint, tilting your head in case he says something else, but you hear nothing. Luke’s staring at your side profile, unable to hide his grin at the new information, biting his cheek.

“Besides, he’s a fucking terrible shot. And you’re supposed to be the best, so I’ve heard. Who else would I want on this trip with me?”

He chuckles at this lightly, your words bolstering his ego.

“So you’ve heard.”

And for a second, the sight of his smile distracts you enough that the car swerves a tiny bit closer to the median. You both ignore it and keep driving.

—-

Hypnos increases his hold on your senses as you finally take a break somewhere in North Carolina, taking refuge in a dimly lit corner of a gas station parking lot. The old car reeks of greasy fast food and all the sugar Luke could get his hands on at rest stops (it was really cute to see him indulge in more normal things like sweets instead of swordsmanship), and both of your seats are leaned back, but it’s hard to get comfortable after having your butt in the same seat for several hours.

You readjust yourself again, making the car shake a bit as you turn over to face Luke.

“What’s wrong?” he mumbles through closed eyes. His head’s banged against the window one too many times, and it was starting to get annoying.

“Sorry. Just can’t sleep. Thinking too hard.”

He sighs, reaching over to toss your pillow into the backseat, and as you sit up, he rips your blanket off of you too.

“Hey!”

You go silent when you watch him make a makeshift bed for you, turning back with tired eyes as he gestures, “Go ahead. I don’t mind.”

“I feel bad, Luke. You’re taller than me and your knees almost hit the dashboard.”

He rubs at his eyes, looking at you impatiently, and you know his body is calling for comfort too.

“I’ve slept in worse conditions, you gotta remember that, trouble.” The stories Annie used to tell you about the both of them sleeping on the streets pull at your heart, and as you crawl towards the back, you move before you think rationally–tugging on his arm.

“Come on over here.”

“You sure?” “Before I change my mind, yeah.”

You both move around trying to find a place both of you can be comfortable in, first starting with your heads at opposite windows, legs tangling in the middle before he laughs a little too hard at your fumbling and you launch your pillow at his face. Awkwardly, you climb over his legs into his outstretched arms, slotting yourself against his side as he pulls your hair up from getting trapped between his shoulder and your back.

It’s deadly quiet, and Luke thinks if you could move any closer to him, you might hear his heart thundering in his chest.

“You smell like french fries,” you grumble into his sweater, and his laughter shakes you like an earthquake, uprooting the faint traces of sleep in your mind.

“At least the monsters won’t find us. Gonna be harder when the twins get here. A lot of demigod smell to ward off.”

You don’t answer, and he thinks you may have fallen asleep until he notices your hand playing with the frays of his sweater.

“Trouble?”

“They’re really little,” you mumble, so low that he barely hears the hesitance in your voice.

“The monsters? Yeah, I fucking ho–” “Pollux and Castor. My…half-siblings, with really Greek names, and a mom that depends on me getting them to camp safely…” you trail off before your head jerks up to meet his eyes. It’s colder at night now, your bodies and the tiny throw blanket from your trunk providing ample heat even if his socked feet fight their way out from underneath.

“How old are they, nine?” He feels you nod against his chest before he continues, “I was nine when I left home.”

Your eyes get glassy at the thought of a smaller version of Luke, one who’s not all gangly legs and lean muscle—one much softer and innocent than the boy you lean your weight upon, running away from home to find a place he can belong.

“I didn’t know that. I’m sorry.”

He shrugs, the arm propped against the headrest wrapping around you and resting on your hip, tapping you to continue your previous thought.

“I don’t know how to do this, I guess. I’m ripping them from their home and I—” “You’re not some kind of monster y’know? You put yourself down too much sometimes,” he sighs, and he watches the windows slowly start to fog up, “What don’t you know how to do?”

Ignoring his question, you change the subject hoping to talk about something lighter, and far less revealing to the thoughts inside your head.

“Do you remember all of that? Going to school and chalking up the sidewalks on the way home, hopscotch and ice cream trucks… I don’t want to take them away from that.”

Luke ponders, digging through his brain for anything happy from his childhood, but through the years his memories started to collect dust in the back of his mind.

“I don’t remember much.”

“Gods, I’m sorry…”

Mason had told you of your habit of putting your foot in your mouth. You dealt in extremes, giving too much or too little, always saying the wrong thing—and it was the reason why things didn’t go further with the son of Apollo. As well as with the daughter of Aphrodite you saw briefly that told you you didn’t know how to love, not if you didn’t know how to share yourself with others (yeah that one hurt a lot).

Sharing.

That’s what you’re hesitant about.

“Don’t be. It was a long time ago now,” Luke mumbles, a beat of silence passing before he redirects the conversation like you did, “What don’t you know how to do, trouble?”

“How to share. Be a sibling. Someone likeable.”

Luke doesn’t mean to laugh at your expense, but he does, and you punch his stomach hard enough he gasps for air.

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. Everyone likes you.”

“Everyone’s usually scared of me because of D, or hates me because I take dessert privileges and write them up,” you say matter-of-factly, staring out the window above his head at the gentle shine of the moon on his features. It’s a crime for him to look so soft under the low light, and you realize you’re staring when he calls your name.

“No, you don’t get it—you’re the most selfless person I know. You give up sleep to sing to kids before bed, conjure juice boxes so they don’t pass out during training—I’ve seen you carry a kid almost as tall as you across camp because they broke their ankle. You’ve got a lot of love in that twisted heart of yours. I’d know… I mean—I have to share a lot… I’m basically an expert.”

You blink at him as if seeing him in a new light, and you realize then why you picked him to go on this weekend quest with you. Your heartbeat slows despite the show of vulnerability in front of him, and you understand now that Luke makes you feel safe. Biting your lip to hold back a sigh, you decide to just unload the rest of your thoughts, knowing that you’re in the hands of someone who wants to hold the weight. “I’m just used to being alone, I think. I mean who knows what we're like when we're alone but us, right? What a terrifying thought,” you deflect, and Luke closely watches the slope of your nose, down to the smoothness of your lips, unable to put the right words to how he’s feeling.

I know you, he thinks, and it's not as all bad as you make it seem.

“We’re never truly alone, y’know. Besides, even if you are, you still have me,” he says nonchalantly, and the warmth on your cheeks could generate enough heat to run the car for miles. Chuckling lightly as your eyes flutter closed, you know you need to rest before morning comes since you’re the only one between the two of you that can drive. You reckon you’ll teach Luke by the end of the year if he wants to.

“We’re getting pretty terrible at this enemies thing, Castellan,” you jest with nothing hard to back it, and a smile falls onto both of your lips.

“We were never really enemies, trouble. I just like getting on your nerves.”

Your laughs fall silent, settling into a comfortable silence, until his next words send you off into slumber as you listen.

“I remember my mom singing in the kitchen as she put peanut butter on my sandwiches. She'd act like she left the dishes out for me to wash, but let me lick the knife clean every time and I’d put too much soap and the sink would be filled with bubbles. I don't remember much else but that. Her kitchen. She smelled like…chamomile.”

A wandering hand pulls his free one into yours, holding it until sunrise.

—-

You push Pollux and Castor out the door before the sun rises after a short stay at their mother’s house, and as the engine heats up, you and Luke watch them say goodbye to her with the both of you thinking of last words with your own. The both of you ward off the hellhounds biting off at your heels for a few hours like how you deceived the police the day previous, a purple Zippo lighter in hand whose smoke grants temporary illusions wafting through the car, and it smells like grapes (thanks D!). The kids sleep most of the way, none the wiser and heavy with sleep and their emotions of leaving everything they’ve ever known. Your eyes flicker to their sleeping heads in the rearview mirror, ready to take them home.

Hours later, Luke decides to make you stop at a diner to get you a bit of rest, get actual food, and let the twins pee, and your head is bobbing slightly in front of your plate of food once he brings them back from the bathroom.

“You wash your hands?” you say tiredly, both Pollux and Castor shaking wet hands in your face in response, making you giggle before sipping at your coffee. Luke cut you off from Redbull yesterday, saying he was scared for your liver and saying you needed to drink something else for a bit. He bristles at the sight of you drinking more caffeine, and you smile as the mug touches your lips.

“You’re gonna kill yourself one day. At least your dad drinks Diet Coke.”

“Not by choice, though what a way to go!” you joke, and the twins giggle as the both of them gulp down root beer like it’s essential to their being. Luke sighs at the idea of you having two minions under your belt, who you’ll most definitely train to raise hell on Camp Half-Blood now that you’ve taken more of the administrative side of things.

“Is he your boyfriend, sissy?” Pollux, or maybe it’s Castor pipes up, swinging his legs under the table and you smile at the sound of the nickname, noticing the dimple in his cheek. Luke chokes on his burger, coughing until you elbow him.

“He’s more of my ESA,” you remark, and he still doesn’t know what that is, so he raises an eyebrow like your brothers do as they peer up at you from across the table.

“What’s an ESA?” Castor, you realize, who has no dimples, spits out behind munches of a pickle.

“Luke’s my emotional support animal.”

He eats the rest of your fries despite your confidence in that response, grumbling exactly how a resistant dog would.

As you’re paying the bill, a large shadow looms over the sunny disposition of everyone at your table—and then Luke shouts for everyone to cover their eyes. Glass shatters over you, revealing a hellhound the size of a minivan, and it pounces toward the twins, large teeth bared at their throats. Before Luke can pull his sword out, you whistle sharply and the sound whizzes through the air like a bullet as you toss the Zippo lighter at him as he’s pushing the kids to the car. Though he’s reluctant to lose sight of you, he wards them with an illusion, locking the doors despite their cries and he runs headfirst back into battle, you with your thyrsus and him with his sword, back to back.

“They okay?” you heave, jabbing at the red-eyed canine between the eyes as Luke pulls around to slash it across the neck, coming out of the tussle unscathed as you both watch it keel over at your feet into golden dust minutes later.

“Yeah. Are you?”

Though you originally found it funny, Luke does perform his job well, getting you to calm down as he holds you to his chest until you can breathe normally again.

“Mhm. Just scared me.”

The two of you run out of the destroyed diner and into the warded-off car before the police show up hand in hand as you escape without detection. As he falls asleep, Castor dreams that you two are Bonnie and Clyde like in an old Western movie he was definitely not old enough to watch.

—-

You’re finally back on the Island now, only an hour away from Montauk and Luke is getting restless in the passenger seat. He pulls apples out of his backpack, wiping them off with his shirt as you sing along to a Taylor Swift song playing on the radio.

And maybe someday when we’re older, this is something we’ll laugh about…. Foolish one… you hum, tapping the wheel to fight off your exhaustion.

Pollux and Castor are using their fingers to pretend to hop over obstacles in the smudged windows, babbling about something they did in class last week. The son of Hermes pulls out a pocketknife he nicked from a gas station this morning as he starts to cut the apples into pieces, putting some into a ziploc bag for the boys to share, and you smile at him, wistful at your trip nearing its finish line. If you weren’t enemies before this like he said, it’s crazy to consider him your closest friend. But he is, isn’t he?

His knuckles nudge yours over the console, pressing an apple slice into your palm.

“You know, Castellan, you’re sweet when you want to be. Shame you and that sister of Annie’s didn’t work out.”

Luke scoffs at the reminder of his ex, slicing another piece off for you to eat. She did say he had wandering eyes…always looking for you. He’s not going to admit that though.

“I just know you like your apples cut. Saw you battling it out with a butter knife last week. Couldn’t help but notice,” he says lowly like it’s normal for people to be that considerate about others, normal for him to care about you like that, a constant push and pull between you two.

“Hurts my teeth,” you mutter, and Luke chortles like you’ve told him something life-changing. Your hand bumps into his again, feeling nothing but his calloused fingers, and when you look up his cheek protrudes with the last slice.

“Tax,” he winks, and you’re delirious with this feeling that only he can bring you, almost comparable to being high.

The popstar’s voice continues to trill in the background, with my head in my hands, saying “How could I not see the signs?”

You both don’t realize you’ve stopped singing until Pollux pipes up asking for you to play Fireball by Mr. 305 himself.

—-

The car finally pulls into the driveway of the forest path and you’re all greeted by the campers holding blazing lanterns. Chiron, your father, and the nymphs are waving as the twins marvel at the fairy lights strung up along the way for a warm welcome.

“You’re alive,” your dad remarks, and this time he doesn’t say it in jest, sounding more relieved.

“I was in good hands,” you affirm, looking up at Luke amongst the noise of your cheering friends and the feeling that comes with calling this place home.

The boys are tucked in at your side, shyly looking at the crowd, Pollux holding your hand while Castor holds onto Luke’s, and Chiron calls your attention.

“I know you didn’t get your official announcement,” he starts, and you laugh at that, remembering the bubbles in the lake.

“Because I pulled a fast one on D.”

“Nonetheless, I would love for you to get recognized for your efforts. Dionysus. Storyteller, Herald of Chaos,” he continues by announcing your name, and then,” Pollux, and Castor– children of the grapevine, the God of Wine!”

The campers are kneeling and you look at Luke, who’s smiling from the ground beside you.

“Take a picture, trouble, it’ll last longer.”

“My children are home safe. And thank you, Castellan, for being a formidable companion. My deepest appreciation.” Mr. D sounds serious for once, pulling Luke up as he nods in respect.

It’s a crazy feeling to finally feel at home though you’ve been here for two years now. But you remind yourself quickly of why that is when you see Luke carrying Pollux on his shoulders as Castor latches onto his legs.

“You know, your family is a nightmare. You two hellions will fit right in,” he grins.

You can’t help but agree.

—

“I hadn’t told them about you, but they saw you bathing in my eyes. I hadn’t told them about you, but they saw you in my written words. The perfume of love cannot be concealed.” -Nizar Qabbani

ask to be added to general/luke taglists!

luke taglist (some won't let me tag, turn on my post notifs?): @kissingyourgrl @dorcas4meadowes @lorarri @andrewgarfldsgf @noodlesketchbook @10ava01 @poppysrin @ashisabitgay @timhalamet @liv1104 @leeknows-wife @mxtokko @bugcuti3 @luvvfromme @midmourn @2hiigh2cry @yuminako @niktwazny303 @lukecastellandefender @intergalactic-padawan @iliketopgun @annybah @dangelnleif @thegrinningghost @alyssajunelle @obxstiles @m00ng4z3r @visndcaitswhore @b0ok-lover @elegant-face-tree @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targaryenluvs @sakyira @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri @number-onekidqueen @nininehaaa @bradynoonswife @stevenknightmarc @hoodedhavok @happy-mushrooms @homebyeleven @anotherblackreader @too-deviant @liviessun @lilacspider @theadventuresofanartist @sucker4seresin @simpforsunwoo @zanzie @starrystormwritings

#luke castellan x dionysus!reader #luke castellan x reader fanfic #luke castellan x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo x reader #luke castellan fluff #made by ma1dita ♥︎#trouble!verse #thank you for reading my love ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

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kjdkive · 9 months

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couple questions with vogue — jjk.

summary: yn, world-famous model and jungkook world-famous artist are invited as a couple to answer some questions for vogue on a video. both known to be a chaotic couple are expected to show their competitive side.

pairing: idol! jungkook and model! yn (afab)

warnings: cursing, some dirty jokes? jungkook being the best boyfriend ever i want him so bad, third person narration

a/n: thinking about doing this for some other bts members but not really sure lol let's see how this one goes and go from there. also i used to be a wattpad writer and there we use — not " and i actually hate writing dialogues with " oh and also i mention a few things that are not true about jungkook but this is my universe and in this universe that happened yn happened

— hello, vogue! i’m yn and it’s so nice to be back here — yn says to the camera.

— hello, i’m yn’s boyfriend, jungkook — jungkook says, smiling to the camera — i am also in a band but not that that matters.

— i’m your fianceé, babe, remember? — yn lifts her left hand to show her engagement ring.

— she’s my soon-to-be wife, guys — jungkook giggles and stands up from his seat a little to give her a short kiss on her cheek.

— okay, my boyfriend’s humble as you can see but we’ll see if he’s a good boyfriend/fiancé because we’re gonna do the couple questions challenge! — an assistant hands her some cards with the questions on them — are you nervous, babe?

— not at all, i actually think i’m gonna crush you — jungkook responds.

— confident much? — yn asks.

— dude, come on, let’s go, i’m ready.

video cuts abruptly to the intro, showing a few pictures of the couple and jungkook’s seven playing in the back.

question no.1 for jungkook: how did you first meet?

— it was at a party in L.A. — jungkook replies — june 28th, 2017. she was wearing a black dress and her favorite manolo heels because she told me that the same night, also her purse from a special chanel collection because she told me it gave her luck.

— it definitely did, baby — yn couldn’t stop smiling — it made me met you, so bless the chanel bag. so, answer’s correct!

— ever since that night i fell in love and my band members were sick of me talking about her.

— just want to say that it took him two months to ask me on a date — yn laughs — like i literally said no to a few guys in those two months because i was waiting for him to ask me out and when he did i just told him “finally, bro.”

— you guys don’t understand, she was and still is too pretty for me — jungkook whined, making yn laugh — i thought she was gonna say no and also tell me that she doesn’t date ugly guys?

— weren’t you literally like on the top 5 of the hottest guys of the world? — yn asks him and he stops.

— i think i was? i don’t remember.

— of course you don’t, darling. next question.

jungkook: 1

yn: 0

question no.2 for yn: who initiated the first kiss?

— oh! oh! this one’s good — yn says — i did! and it was a mess.

— no, you didn’t — jungkook tells her.

— oh, yes, i did because you were shaking when you grabbed my face and you literally froze so i was like “well, let ME do this” and then i was the one to grab your face and kiss you — yn points at him.

— okay, fine, i did froze but you tasted like fish — jungkook starts — and although i love fish, tasting it from someone else’s mouth isn’t that delicious.

— you had just taken me out to eat sushi! what were you expecting? — yn asks him — besides, you tasted like banana because you had to eat your banana dessert of course.

— guys, if you ever go out on a date and you think you’re gonna kiss — jungkook looks at the camera — do not take them to eat fish or pasta because else they’ll get pesto on their teeth or their breath will smell like fish.

— oh, right — yn laughs — in one of our dates you got pesto on your teeth.

— stop, i don’t wanna remember how you had to get me a tooth pick cause i couldn’t get it out — jungkook rolls his eyes and yn keeps on laughing at him — if your girl gets you a tooth pick, marry her, that’s what i’m gonna do in a few months — he winks at the camera and laughs at yn blushing.

jungkook: 1

yn: 1

question no.3: which songs did jungkook write about yn?

— now this is a good one because you always get confused — jungkook laughs — which songs did i write about you?

— still with you, dimple, love maze, home, seven the explicit and clean version — yn winks at the camera.

— babe! — jungkook blushes and giggles.

— oh, so you can be no.1 on billboard, mind you the explicit version but your girlfriend can’t talk about it?

— don’t get off topic, finish the list — jungkook laughs again — and you’re my fiancée, not girlfriend.

— okay, fine — yn moves on her seat — your part in my universe, dna, paradise, best of me, my you and that’s it.

— WRONG! — jungkook yells at her and stands up from his seat to jump and laugh at her — you’re a loser!

— jungkook, what? i got them all correct! shut up!

— you forgot the one i have performed the most! — jungkook stands in front of the camera — vogue subscribers, my wife doesn’t love me.

— oh my god! — yn yells — i forgot euphoria and jesus christ, jungkook, sit down now, stop being dramatic.

— how dare you forget the amazing and unforgettable euphoria?

— i’m sorry, my love, please forgive me for i have made an awful mistake — yn holds his hand.

— i shall forgive you.

— thank you, my king.

— i love you — jungkook kisses her hand and doesn’t let go of it — but i’ll never forget this.

jungkook: 1

yn: 1

question no.4: what are the top 3 celeb crushes of yn?

— this one’s so easy — jungkook says — it’s matthew mcconaughey, chris evans and bradley cooper but as his character in the hangover.

— wrong — yn laughs.

— yn, you know i’m not wrong, those are your top 3.

— babe, you’re a celebrity too, you’re my no.1.

— don’t lie, yn, i’m not your celeb crush.

— yup, you’re right — yn gives up — he got the answer right, whatever, next question.

jungkook: 2

yn: 1

question no.5: when jungkook first started as an artist, what did he do to calm his nerves when he performed?

— I PRAYED — jungkook yells before yn can say her answer — I PRAYED AND I PRAYED.

— he didn’t — yn looks at the camera with a serious expression.

— YES, I DID — jungkook sits back on his seat — I DID. i did.

— can you shut up now? — yn asks him — he used to- — yn gets cut off.

— PRAY. HE USED TO PRAY. — jungkook yells again and all yn does is stand up from her seat and put her hand on jungkook’s mouth.

— he’s licking my hand right now but i couldn’t care less — yn still had a serious expression — he used to touch his bandmates’ butts and when they would question him he’d say “nothing better than your butts, you guys!”

— she’s wrong — jungkook says.

— jungkook, ew, you left my hand freaking wet — yn wipes her hand on jungkook’s shirt — and yes, i’m right, you can call up jimin and he’ll tell you i’m right.

jungkook: 2

yn: 2

question no.6: yn has a scar and has had a broken arm, how did both happen?

— on her chin — jungkook replies fastly. yn nods and lifts her head to show up her chin. — that’s like the only one from an ugly accident the other ones are just her being silly cause she has some scars, blame of our cats when she tries to shower them and another one from when she was trying to make some chicken nuggets on the air fryer last month and she burned herself.

— he’s correct.

— the broken arm… she told me she was playing outside when she was in kindergarten and she fell and broke her arm, she also told me the school didn’t call her parents right away and waited until her grandma picked her up from school but she took her to the hospital right away. sadly, they didn’t sue the school because they’re good people, the teachers weren’t.

— that story is also correct.

— ugh, so tiring being the best boyfriend/future husband out there — jungkook sighs.

jungkook: 3

yn: 2

question no.7: how many tattoos does jungkook have? which one was for yn?

— jesus christ — yn says — i kid you not, jungkook doesn’t even know how many he has himself.

— i don’t know the total number but i do have a close number, if she reaches it she’ll get the answer right.

— fine, uhm, the eye he had before was my eye but i told him to cover it because it was done really bad like the eyelashes and the color were a mess but there are other ones about me, the thunderbolts and the flower on your elbow, right?

— yes — he nods with a smile.

— and i think, you have a total of 21? 22? with the new seven tattoo behind your ear i think so, yeah.

— she’s not close in the number but she’s right about the tattoos about her — he smiles at her.

jungkook: 3

yn: 3

question no.8: what are yn’s favorite hobbies?

— reading, learning languages and trying out new restaurants everywhere she goes.

— that is correct.

— she’s currently reading beach read but her favorite book is the portrait of dorian gray because my girl is into classics but they have to be a little gay; she speaks 4 languages those being english, italian, korean of course and french. the latest new restaurant she went was momofuko ko here in new york and she loved it.

— i love you — yn couldn’t stop smiling as she got close to jungkook to give him a little kiss.

— i love you more — he said, after kissing her back.

jungkook: 4

yn: 3

question no. 9: what is jungkook’s pet peeve?

— damn, he has a lot — yn laughs — but i can name a few.

— i don’t have a lot!

— oh yeah? — yn asks and then turns at the camera — jungkook can’t eat if he notices people being loud while chewing but he is the loudest chew-er ever, he gets mad if whoever is driving doesn’t know how to park and oh! he despises when people walk slow but he had to be patient with me because i am a slow walker.

— she’s really slow but since i love her i can be patient with her.

— thank you, means a lot.

jungkook: 4

yn: 4

question no.10 (final question, decides the winner): if yn hadn’t been a model, what would’ve she been?

— oh, my girl’s born to shine — jungkook holds her hand — because she wanted to be a UN ambassador when she was young because she loved learning languages.

— oh my god, i did! — yn intertwines her fingers with jungkook’s — but i don’t even remember telling him about this.

— you said that on an interview but you also said that to me when we were on one of our first dates — he smiles at her.

— i did?

— you said you saw it on tv — jungkook nods — and that you wanted to travel the world like them. but now you travel around the world as a model, either way you were gonna be successful.

— reached full success now that i’m marrying you. — yn kisses him — i guess you won.

the interviewer behind the camera asked them if they wanted to say anything else before finishing the video.

— my soon-to-be husband has released a song called seven, not that it needs promotion because the song's killing it but if you haven't listened to it you should, the song saves lives.

— yeah, i released a song, i wrote it and it was just for her — jungkook smiles — my girl is also releasing her own clothing line so make sure to check that out too — jungkook points at the camera — and before we finish i want to say i won, yn lost — jungkook looks at the camera with a serious expression — vogue subscribers, i am here to tell you again that yn is a loser and i will write on my wedding vows to always call her a loser until death do us apart.

yn hits him on his arm and jungkook giggles.

— i hate you, jungkook.

— i love you too, my sweetie cutie pie, come here.

jungkook brings her in for another kiss.

— thank you, vogue! see you next time — jungkook says while squishing yn's cheek with his own cheek.

— save me — yn mouths.

and the video finishes.

#jungkook #bts #bts fluff #bts smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook seven #jungkook drabble #jungkook scenarios #jungkook x you #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook imagine #i love jungkook #i need to finish another story but i avoided it so i wrote this instead #i need to give jungkook a hug

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sunderwight · 4 months

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cumplane but it turns out that Airplane very much is a god

turns out that if you're on a certain level of reincarnations and you get electrocuted, it DOES count as a kind of heavenly tribulation, even if it happens because you spilled cup noodles on your shitty apartment's faulty wiring

but airplane wasn't like, mentally prepared to ascend, so instead of just arriving in the heavens to cheers and a parade he sort of got sidelined and fractured into a million billion pieces, which subconsciously coalesced into the component parts of the story he'd been working on

god!Airplane is operating on several unconscious levels. but basically, every person in the PIDW/SV setting? is actually him. he is simultaneously luo binghe and mobei jun and ning yingying and yue qingyuan and tianlang jun and the old palace master and etc, more or less playing out various roles in an effort to make sense of his sudden influx of divine power

shang qinghua, however, is the only incarnation that attains awareness of his past life. apart from the system, of course, which holds onto the majority of Airplane's divine power

when Shen Yuan dies, Airplane senses it and drags his soul into this mess, on some mixed impulse of "no don't go" but also "come and see, see what I'm making, tell me it's good now" and "fuck you for all those mean things you said, you think you can do better?"

Airplane and Shen Yuan as the only actual people in the story, except the other characters exist too, they're just all secretly (unwittingly) the same person. kind of

anyway after hundreds and hundreds of years of this, eventually Airplane sorts his shit out, the universe collapses in on itself, and the only ones left are him and Shen Yuan. Airplane is Shang Qinghua, but he's also Luo Binghe, and everyone else besides. ordinarily this would be distressing for both of them, but since they've actually had time to sort shit out they're pretty chill about it. Shen Yuan had started to figure it out a few hundred years ago. Airplane both had and hadn't, because real acceptance and understanding eventually triggered the world to collapse, and a lot of him had been against that by then. willing to live a fractured life it meant that the parts of him which had found happiness and acceptance could keep on having that

but the happiness and acceptance don't go away when the world is done. even though he was afraid that they would. the parts of him that learned to love himself still do, and Shen Yuan is still there and his shizun still loves him, is still his bro, his shixiong, his everything. wherever Airplane goes, he will follow

Airplane ascends as a literary god and brings along his only true believer (Luo Binghe arrives at a throne in the heavens and immediately sits his shizun upon it) and it's pretty chill, in fact

#cumplane #svsss #shang qinghua #scum villain's self saving system

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avrilsboy · 2 months

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i'm only partway through ep five of true detective but god. the escalation of martin's misogyny to where he hits and slut-shames his teenage daughter audrey in the same sentence that he talks about a statutory rape charge against the young men she was found in a car with, and how this is immediately preceded by a scene of him being congratulated for rescuing a child from a child rapist/murderer, who he himself killed assassination-style out of sheer rage. he got away with covering it up as a defensive kill, he received a promotion, he got a second chance with his wife maggie whom he cheated on and got to be with his young daughters again. despite all that he does wrong, all is right in martin's world. audrey, though, now a teenager, is now at the receiving end of her father's hatred of women; she doesn't even realize that she has been at this receiving end since she was a child of nine or so, ever since her parents found her drawings of naked men and women having sex in her school notebook. maggie is properly disturbed by this, wondering if audrey is possibly being sexually abused, knowing very well how early girls learn about sex because of the dangers they face as girls, while martin is only angry at audrey for displaying a knowledge of sex in the first place. he can't cope that his young daughter is a woman to-be. he can't possibly marry his own ideas and treatment of women with the reality that both of his children will soon become those very women. and since he categorically gets what he wants without ever needing to challenge his perceptions or change himself in any capacity, he continues to direct his rage at women, and his daughters suffer for it. even maisie, favored over audrey by martin, starts facing direct whispers of his misogyny as she makes the cheerleading team, something with a clearly sexual connotation in martin's mind.

and on the very same page is rust, who in his previous job had also killed a suspect upon discovery of child abuse. he, however, received no accolades; he instead spent time at a psychiatric hospital, as this was viewed as a mental breakdown in connection with the recent loss of his own daughter, sofia. rust, refusing pension, was instead sent to do undercover work for an extensive seven years as consequence. he loses a lot in the aftermath of his daughter's death; his marriage falls apart, he copes by overworking, he doesn't sleep. he is haunted by sofia's presence. he's often detached and pessimistic, only able to view the world in strict functions: cause and effect. fear and desire. animals playing power-games on what is truly a nothing planet in the scope of the universe. upon becoming martin's partner, he gets to witness martin fucking up a life he himself once had -- he gets to witness him be emotionally unavailable to his daughters, watches him cheat on his wife -- but rust can do only that. observe, and let martin know he observes. and he makes sure martin still maintains his chances, encouraging him to cover up the crime of murdering a suspect, telling him that his relationship with maggie will turn around.

here's the thing, though: rust has something that martin wishes he had, too. martin wishes he could view his daughters as forever-children. he doesn't wish they had died as sofia had as just a toddler, obviously not -- but their unavoidable womanhood is, to him, its own death sentence. he hates that his children are becoming the very women he derides and uses to bolster his own position as a man. he hates that their innate womanhood would dare beg him to change his mindset for the sake of his relationships with them as their father, for the sake of their safety in the world. he could only dream of his daughters being perfectly innocent non-women forever, something only their early graves could ever promise.

#*pointing at marty every episode* i've had enough of this dude #a cop is a violent misogynist? groundbreaking.#but genuinely i am enjoying this show and i like that i fucking hate this guy LOL #i'm rllllly enjoying how the show juxtaposes and melds rust and martin's viewpoints and experiences #true detective #martin hart #rust cohle

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halemerry · 7 months

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The thing is. When people look at Book Omens and Show Omens there are a few different things that can happen. Sometimes you get people who try and shove them into one universal true canon. Sometimes you get people totally dissociating them from each other into two separate entities. And, to be clear, I don’t think either of these options is inherently bad to do - I myself defaulted to the latter for quite awhile after season 1 aired - and I always think folks should choose to view these characters in the way that makes them happy. For that matter, I think that there's nothing wrong with disliking a version or preferring one over the other or even ignoring one exists. But, I do think a lot of analysis I have seen has a tendency to remove the characters from their context in a way that does them a bit of a disservice. Because their context matters quite a bit.

Book Omens and Show Omens were made in two very different worlds facing two very different problems and two very different futures stretching out in front of them. The Book belongs in the context of a world on its way out of the Cold War while the Show belongs to a world starting to buckle under the weight of capitalism’s pressure. The evils in the story reflect these two world states - which I think is a good thing. As much as I love the book, if the show had just done the Cold War allegory, I don’t think it would’ve hit quite the same way and could've easily felt dated.

The most notable impact narratively from this shift is the fact that Heaven and Hell both have a more constant presence. Show Aziraphale and Crowley feel far more watched and actively monitored than they do in the book, especially in Aziraphale’s case. His relationship with Heaven especially is far more ‘boss checking the quarterly numbers’ or ‘oppressive family head checks in on their younger sibling’ than it is ‘spy reporting his findings’. And this shift is a huge one as far as what it means for our characters and their context.

Take for example, a small exchange of dialogue in the book where Crowley and Aziraphale do something that we know for a fact would never happen in the show - where they discuss the admittedly slim possibility of each other’s side granting of each other asylum. This is dialogue that works quite well if you’re looking at them as two spies with wavering loyalties but does not work for the show version of our protagonists, because the pressures they face from Heaven and Hell are different. The same thing goes in reverse for the Bandstand scene - a scene that is not in the book at all because it works far better in a show interested in a character facing pressure from a toxic family than it would in a book where Heaven’s presence is a very distant one.

And this right here is where we end up with the question of character consistency. There’s traits that each version of Aziraphale and Crowley have that the other does not, which leads to them feeling like two sets of characters in a way that can make them feel like the show is occasionally out of character. But it’s not really that, I don’t think. I think that's just a side effect of viewing them out of context. And I think a lot of those differences and the ways they manifest make a lot more sense if they're viewed like aus - because that's what they are in a lot of ways. The Book is a Cold War au and the Show is a modern au. They’re different, yes, but still undoubtedly them.

#good omens #book omens #crowley #aziraphale #show omens #good omens season 2 #rambles #just been rotating this in my head for a few days #one of these days ill ramble about crowleys optimism but for now have this

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channelinglament · 1 year

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I LOVED your SAHSR thoughts so please hear me out.

I actually doubt that HSR will understand what God means, like, they're in space and modern tech and with all the things they have encountered, I just feel that they have never understood "God" like in SAGAU. The only being that closer to a "divine being" being is aeon.

So my brainrot is, the player as aeon, who's just mindlessly flying across the Herta's Space Station that currently being invaded and taken interested in MC (who's literally stellaron) and favored them.

HSR characters are aware, that something powerful is actively watching and taking care of them. They are wary because aeons are areas they know very little about and have no control over.

But, who could resist the constant warmth and kindness of this peculiar aeon, plus, this aeon seems having no bad intention. Just some harmless mischief (scaring a cleaning service; those trash bing thingy; destroying property for some cash; etc)

Sorry if there any grammar mistakes. English is not my first language.

THIS ^

THIS IS AMAZING

TW:some religious themes, yandere

I agree, they indeed would think you're an aeon.

Some sort of highest of aeons.

AND THE MISCHIEF PART IS SO TRUE

They wouldn't understand why are you so different from all the aeons, but you don't cause trouble, and seem to actually care for them, make then stronger.. You really aren't that bad. And just like that, after their observation on you, their obsession began!

Considering what destruction everything else causes, you're the safest one, so some of them might even worship you. Admire you while being obssesses with divine aeon. Y-You even saved Belobog! And Herta's station.. They really should thank you, but how? Maybe offerings will do...?

Oh, some would be obsessive about you! Everything you do is absolute perfection! How could they not love you? Would keep a journal and take pictures/draw/paint you.

Some would be protective, you always look after them and their backs, so they are doing the same for you. "Just like in some romance book!" They say.

Others would be possessive (obv). They don't wanna share you with anyone. You're too special. They're the only ones who deserve you/ They may not deserve you but no one else is, so they'll try to isolate you. They want to keep you to themselves, you're to good for everyone and anyone else anyways.

Some are Manipulative and Cunning. This being paired with what I stated above is not a great idea. Thankfully, not everyone is like that.

Others are Clingy and Delusional. Would not recommend, as, if their delusion would shatter...the result would be..messy. you'll be alright tho. But everyone else won't.

Some would definitely share with each other and work together. Use their strong traits and cover the weak ones of others (and vice versa).

Running away? Kinda impossible, you're in space..

BUT

Hear me out, if in sagau we are sometimes ACTUALLY a God with gold blood

What if we are actually an aeon?

(We can talk and speculate about it more, I'm really interested about you're thoughts hehe. Everyone is so cool ><. Imagine being in both, SAHSR and SAGAU universe, both sides loving you, worshiping you and pursuing you. Oh it won't end well, and if it will, it won't be for you-)

#sahsr x reader #sahsr #SAHSR #self aware hsr #self aware honkai star rail #yandere hsr x reader #yandere hsr #hsr x reader #hsr #yandere honkai star rail x reader #yandere honkai star rail #honkai star rail #sagau #sahsr brainrot #kami rambles

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overandundertarot · 3 months

Text

pick a tattoo; message for you

pile 1; Queen of hearts, The Hermit reversed, Ace of swords.

Pile 1 I feel you are taking time to cultivate a specific state of mind. Stillness, being present while at the same time appreciating such intense aspects of human emotions and meeting them with kindness and love. Right now, you are considering pursuing a solo journey, it's not something everyone will understand or that you can even explain. This can be physical or mental; you want to incorporate a potent source of creativity and connection to source in your daily experience. Keep at it, you're still wondering how to go about it. It feels like a half formed idea in your conciousness but let it marinate. You will arrive at a conclusion soon. For some there is something to do with cutting it off with/reaching out to another person. I heard making the best decision for both of you; do what you know and feel is right.

pile 2; 10 of cups, Ace of cups, Ace of swords.

Wow Pile 2! Romance is in the air! You have a romantic prospect right now(or several!) and are trying to be discerning. If not one is coming towards you very soon. You want to protect your heart, but are a secret hopeless romantic! You want in your deepest of hearts to get lost in the feeling and go crazy with love; experiencing the joys and exhileration of being with another person. You hope your partner can be an escape from reality for you, if not a soothing balm to the exhausting end of your day. You want a partner, a family and domestic bliss. Message for you is to give them a chance; let them show you how good it can be. Say yes to that movie or that trip! It seems too good to be true, but it's all you deserve. Enjoy it. So much happiness in in store for you pile 2! Ahhhh I wanna hug you, my heart is feeling full with it.

pile 3; Queen of pentacles, 9 of wands, King of wands.

Pile 3, how're you feeling? It's important to check in with yourself every now and then. You're working hard on a journey but you need to give yourself appropriate time to rest. I'm hearing that you romanticise the suffering. Not to a toxic degree but to make it all the more bearable. You likely already know your message. Keep going. You're doing wonderfully. This pile reminds me of Victoria Monet's words at the recent grammy awards. To paraphrase she explained that her receiving that award last night was a process years in the making; she was growing roots, laying ground. And she's finally begining to sprout. It's the same for you. You are patient with yourself, tending to to your work that you know will put you at the top one day. You have this regal air about you, keep your head held high. Some of you are facing a decision, I'm hearing to go with the shocking option lol.

pile 4; 6 of wands reversed, Queen of cups reversed, Ace of swords.

Things are very much upside down for you pile 4. There's been a thwarted victory(or a hollow one at the very least). It left you feeling empty. I get the feeling like you're crying out to the universe for help but it seems like no one is listening. You're keeping all these things bottled up; refusing to open up. There are people in your life who want to reach out to you but you are not trusting them, very guarded though i feel like its not obvious. Many people may not even know that you are struggling; they think everything is going great for you. The message for you is basically what you just read; you didn't know how to pinpoint what you were feeling. Reframe the situation; are you satisfied with those conditions? That's a no, open up to the people around you, or find a channel to process these emotions. Let yourself bloom again. There's also a big theme of turning your pain into profit. Perhaps use your experience to create art or to find a new persepctive in your work. There are solutions available to you. Use them.

#overandundertarot #pac #tarot #divination #pick a card #intuitive reading #pick a pile #pick a picture #tarot pick a card #tarotblr #pick a card tarot reading #pick a card reading #pick a photo #pick one

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dragonofthedepths · 1 year

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The Council of the Dead Would Like to Inform the Justice League that “Magical Girl” is a Gender-Neutral Term 16.2.23

DP x DC. Danny, Dani, Dan, Vlad, Clockwork, the Justice League. Redeemed Vlad, redeemed Dan, Ghost King Danny.

Amity gets suddenly transported to the DC universe, but that doesn’t mean anybody realizes it suddenly exists. Amity was already extremely liminal and under an information blackout, and both those things stay true making it really hard to think about for anybody that doesn’t already know about it.

Just be DC hasn’t noticed Amity does not mean Amity hasn’t noticed DC, which is why Danny is out exploring this world that’s absolutely full of heroes.

Unfortunately, DC is even more full of disasters, and he’s forced to transform to protect some people. He books it out of there immediately afterward and disappears.

Everyone assumes he’s a magical girl. A black-haired blue-eyed “civilian” had a whole freaking transformation, fixed everything with magic, and flew away. Was he Tim Drake? Related to the Superboys? A random teen? One of Bruce Wayne’s other children? No-ones ever seen a hero with a transformation before.

Danny finds out about this and is more than willing to play along.

He can make his transformation more dramatic, :) he can design some special attacks, :) Clockwork can he use a time medallion as a boost item?* (Clockwork says yes.) :D

With Vlad, Dani, and Dan playing along too they even have a pretty decent magical girl team, complete with Vlad playing the dark horse magical girl rival whose more rude and abrasive but ultimately on the same side for bonus Justice League trolling.

The Justice League is absolutely loosing their minds apparently living through a Magical Girl anime. Especially after threats from the Infinite Realms start getting involved.

*The ultimate boost item is, of course, the Crown of Fire.

Dani, Danny, and Dan introduce themselves as half-siblings. For the pun.

Day (626/100) in my #∞daysofwriting @the-wip-project 16th of Feb

#dc x dp #I can’t decide if I like it better if Clockwork and Kronos are the same person #or if Clockwork is Amity’s version of Kronos #so that DC can be introduced to him when he appears out of nowhere to curb-stomp Kronos for daring to go after Danny #Danny Phantom #Dan Phantom #Dani Phantom #Vlad Masters #Clockwork #the Justice League #magical girl is a gender neutral term and I will die on this hill #redeemed Vlad Masters #redeemed Dan Phantom #DP #DC #scribblings from the deep #∞daysofwriting

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the-modern-typewriter · 5 months

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Hey! Asking for some writing advice here.

How does one write a villain exactly. In a very simple world with no superpowers and stuff how do you give them motivation. How do you make them slowly descent into villainy. Somehow when the villain actually thinks they're doing the right thing until the very end?

Thx love

There are a few different questions here that I'm going to try to to unpick.

I'll start with a brief overview of the connections between protagonist + antagonist, just because recognising them can be really useful in shaping your own ideas. Then I'll dive into motivation. So.

Antagonist + Protagonist = CONFLICT

If you know your protagonist well, then you have all the ingredients you need to write a great villain/antagonist for them too. Here is why.

Your villain/antagonist is, at the most basic fundamental starting point, something that is between your protagonist and what the protagonist wants/needs. As a very simple example, if your protagonist wants to make sure that everyone is free, then your antagonist is going to in some way be involved with making sure they are not free. Once you know what your antagonist needs to do in a story, then it's a lot easier to pose the question to yourself of 'okay, why would someone do that?'

Villains often reflect an opposite or warped view of the values and motivations that your protagonist has. They mirror or foil your main character. So, your antagonist's motivation will often be either opposite to the protagonist (e.g, your protagonist is motivated by selflessness, so your antagonist is motivated by selfishness in some way) or they will be the same motivation or value gone twisted (e.g. we both have people we love who we would do anything to protect...it's the villains way of acting on that motivation that makes them the villain, not the motivation.)

Of course, you can not have your antagonist + protagonist connected in this way. This is often the case if the source of conflict in your story is not another actual character or if you have a more generic villain. Lots of great stories have generic villains. It typically just means the villain is not a focus. It might be, like, about the friendships made in the journey instead.

Motivations:

I find it helpful to think of all my characters having two motivations.

The external story-specific motivation. This is whatever the antagonist is trying to achieve in your particular story and where things like genre and superpowers etc come into play.

The internal motivation that is more universal. The internal motivation is, while still specific to the character, the driving emotions and values. With a villain, that is often hatred or fear or lust for power because they're villains, but as noted earlier it can be a twisted form of love, or a strong sense of an injustice committed against them. This shapes the external motivation (e.g. 'lust for power = I want the throne, 'fear' = I'm going to kill or belittle or control what scares me so I don't have to feel scared anymore', justice might equal revenge or gaining power to ensure that a wrong is corrected. ) It could also be a bias or a prejudice that they're raised on driving them, that they genuinely believe in. Lots of possibilities!

I think this is true of people as well. We have our foundational core beliefs and desires (to be loved, to succeed, to be accepted whatever) and then we have the things we try to get in the real world to meet those needs (whether they really will or not).

Either way, it's the second one that comes into play with the slow descent into villainy and the villain thinking that they're doing the right thing until the end. Because, initially, their heart genuinely is not in a villainous place. They may actually be doing the right thing at the start. And then bad things happen. They are changed by the journey. They are a protagonist gone tragic.

We all experience emotions that can drive us to behave poorly; the desire for revenge or recognition, to ensure that the people we care about are safe, to get money so that we can provide for ourselves and others etc. None of us are without prejudice or privilege. Those things do not make you a villain, but they can be an excellent starting place for one.

Think about times when you've messed up. A villain is often an exaggerated version of that. You start pushing your own boundaries because there is something you really want/need and, depending on how far you push that...do you feel like you can still go back? Or do you feel like you might as well finish it after everything. At what point do you breathe for air, look up at what you've done, and go shit.

That's the villain who realises way too late that they're the villain.

Final note: I've been using antagonist and villain pretty interchangeably here...but they have slightly different connotations. Your antagonist does not have to be a villain to be effective. They just have to be an obstacle to the protagonist. E.g. if two people are going for the same dream job or trying to win a competition, the other competitors are antagonists to a certain extent, but that doesn't mean they're villainous or bad people. Whether you have an outright villain will depend on your story.

I hope this helps!

Some going further questions to take with you.

Is your villain trying to stop your protagonist from reaching their goal? Or is your protagonist trying to stop the antagonist from reaching their goal?

How does the villain's external goal in the story reflect the inner need? Note. They are aware of their external goal. Most people are not aware of the inner goal in the same way.

Do you know what you want your stories themes to be? (This doesn't have to be complicated and it's fine if you don't, that's what editing is for). Your protagonist and antagonist often weigh in on these themes. For example, your antagonist might be a path the protagonist could have gone down, if they made a different choice or something happened differently in their past.

#villains #antagonist #writing advice #writing tips #writing talk #writing villains #writing tip #writing help #character creation #character building

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