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#WHY are there tiny demons that feed on suffering
corvidcorgi · 7 months
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Rereading Young Justice 1998 and I always forget that there's an arc where, in order to escape government agents trying to capture them, they use their magic sentient motorcycle to phase down into the earth's crust
and while they're down there they find a strange dark cavernous space filled with flames and lava and tiny demons that feed on suffering, and also there are disco balls and people wearing bellbottoms
and Robin recognizes everyone there as scumbags and murderers that he's investigated or heard of at one time or another
and it's all run by a guy named Dante, because this is his (disco) Inferno
and the joke is, of course, that Hell looks like the 70s (and/or the 70s are worse than hell)
EXCEPT
it's literally not hell
Dante is just SOME GUY who FOUND A CAVE filled with FLAMES AND LAVA and TINY DEMONS that FEED ON SUFFERING!!
literally just some guy! Who went "Man, y'know what would be neat? If I kidnapped CEOs and murderers, tricked them into thinking they died, and set up a 70s themed prison for them. And told them it was Hell! And fed their suffering to all these tiny demons!"
and then stole all the CEOs' assets in order to finance his underground 70s-themed fake-hell prison where he feeds the prisoners' suffering to his tiny demons
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sillygoofyqueer · 1 month
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Bing-ge getting super sparkly/shiny jewelry with magical abilities and the wives are like “Ooh, could this be for me?” only, nah. It’s actually to lure in his future husband. Go away. XD
Ahhh! Shen Yuan making a safe haven for crows is a wonderful idea! Demonic crows or yao, whether they’ve cultivated human form or not, are all welcome! Regular crows too!
Since I love teacher Shen Yuan, of course he teaches all the younger ones too. Just because they spend half their time as birds doesn’t mean they can’t get an education!
The human half of his family are probably from some tiny village who gave offerings to the local crow demons and unintentionally became friends (crows being protective of their people and all). Their village is startlingly safe thanks to crows mobbing anyone who dares try to mess with them! There might be other half-crow kiddos running around too, thanks to the good relations. Shen Yuan tutors the village kids too of course!
(Tiny bit of angst, but Bing-ge burns with envy if he finds out! This half-demon friendly town was here the whole time?!)
This is adorable, Shen Yuan seeing these young children and just being like "...students." Sometimes, if the human children are extra lucky, he'll take them on flights as long as they have 'necessary payment' (usually a cool looking rock and proof that they've done their chores). It's impossible to find Shen Yuan without at least one crow perched on his shoulder or in his hair, unless he's going on - what the others describe as - dangerous escapades to nab cool stuff from Bing-ge's palace, in which he will know and stop anyone who tries to follow him because he's a dumbass with no self-preservation skills, not them! It takes him a startlingly long time to figure out that Bing-ge is leaving things for him on purpose, and he is undeniably shocked when he finds out. He eventually finally takes it as a form of courtship due to other demons' and humans' instance that it probably is. After doing research on crows courting one another, did you know that the males feed the females?? And sing to them?? SO, I immediately thought of the idea of Shen Yuan trying to reciprocate the courting (because he would never be so silly as to reject the emperor, no one in their right mind would) by randomly appearing in Bing-ge's room (much to Bing-ge's delight and confusion) and singing sweetly before feeding a willing emperor apple slices or some shit until Bing-ge reciprocates and feeds him in response and Shen Yuan just pauses and goes "hang on, am I the wife?" and immediately takes to the role without any thought. ("Why would Bing-ge be the wife, how foolish of me!") When Bing-ge finds out about the village that accepts half demons, of course he's a little upset! Why couldn't he have this sort of comfort and love in his life? Why did he have to suffer all this time?? Then he goes to this village so that Shen Yuan can show off his nest to the emperor (sign of trust?) and is immediately hit with the "I want to be here forever" train.
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Also, the more you think about it, the funnier it gets actually lmao. He just shows up with these gorgeous trinkets and jewellery and sometimes even clothes (shiny embroidery of course), and they vanish and the wives are all like "where the actual hell are they going? Who do we even complain about??" and it could be like a background thing where the wives all get jealous of each other when there's actually just this bird guy who comes over quite often and started by stealing shit while dropping off helpful things. Imagine how strange that must be for the wives. "Ugh, [wife's name here] is taking all the attention away from us!!", "Really? I thought it was [other wife's name]." Meanwhile, there's just one wife (Liu Mingyuan most likely) who just knows and she doesn't tell anyone, content to watch as chaos ensues while the bird man and Luo Bing-ge fall deeper in love with one another, and the gifts get more elaborate each time. {part three! Part one, part two, part four, part five, part six, part seven!!}
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threepandas · 2 months
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Bad End: Soldier A
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I'm pretty sure you know the story. Everybody does. Chosen Hero, Demon King, they fight, save the day, yada yada. Everybody supposedly lives happily ever after. Everything sunshine and roses. Puppies and farting rainbows. But... but it's NOT.
It's really fucking NOT.
I used to love reading stories like that. They were escapism. Grand adventures in a terrible, grey, slowly crushing hellscape of a world. But... but, FUCK. At least there weren't drauger! No demon wolves or skeleton soldiers! Or the FUCKING little flying bastards. God. I HATE those ones the most.
They have sharp, needle-y little claws and teeth like a SHARK fucked a TREE THRESHER. And they scream. Just... yowl and yowl in this ear splitting high pitch like they're trying to DEAFEN you ON TOP of trying to rip you apart.
That life was peaceful.
I was a fool to wish for anything else.
I am not the Chosen One. I'm not even a supporting character. I remember this bullshit little yarn, and I? Am NO WHERE fucking in it. I am just... just some rando, in this struggle of demons and Gods. The child of Some Dude. We... we had chickens. Fat, happy, lil hens.
I remember being ENTRANCED. I had lived all my life, before, in suburban sprawl. So chickens? Strutting around and chasing bugs? Tiny me was hypnotized.
It saved my life.
I half wish it didn't, some days.
That I died, sudden and without the chance to truely comprehend, along side my family. That my neighbors eldest hadn't seen me by the coop. Grabbed me desperately as he ran for his life. Our entire FUCKING village...
There were six survivors.
I was one of them.
And it's... it's all just? FLAVOR TEXT for the Chosen One's tale of Glory. A reason for why she's so NEEDED. So BELOVED. Look how AWESOME she is! Saintess, because when are they NOT? Hero, because it's all about HER. A god damned LOVE STORY thrown in, because THAT'S important, while people are suffering! Dying!
Are? You? KIDDING ME!?
Legends speak of a "Hero's Party". I know damn well it's true. That it WILL succeed. But FUCK that. FUCK waiting for her to "be ready"! To gather allies and turn from some sheltered little rose, into the warrior we ACTUALLY NEED. It's my world too. I was the one who had to help dig out survivors! Tend to the wounded! Fight off swarms! Hold back the dead!
I...! I was the one who had to LOOK PEOPLE IN THE EYE and... AND-!
B-Because sometimes? SOMETIMES?! Those bites DON'T HEAL. Can't heal! They are filled with so much demonic power, that the only thing they CAN do is corrupt. Fester. Poison. Sometimes you're already DEAD and nothing short of the oh so precious SAINTESS could possibly save you.
But she's not HERE... is she?
So you have a choice.
If you're lucky? It's JUST a limb. A chunk of flesh. But more often then not... well... The lucky ones have time to say goodbye. The unlucky ones get to be twisted and used against their friends. Their family's. And if you care. If you CARE AT ALL? You put them down before that happens.
Because they wouldn't want that.
It... it feeds a HATE in me. An ANGER.
No, that's not right... it's more like? It feeds...
A RAGE.
An ugly, burning thing. That's hollowed out my chest. Wrapped around my bones. Fueled by the memories of every innocent I failed to save. By the fear and the suffering, that just keeps dragging on and on and ON. An endless slog that seems designed to break men down. Destroy us.
I feel like it's killing the humanity in me. The kindness I once had. Like I am burning away everything but purpose. And will have nothing left when I am done. IF I am ever done. It... it used to scare me.
Now I am to angry, too tired, to be afraid.
Let me die. I do not CARE. So long as I TAKE THEM WITH ME. Burn them ALL. My brothers in arms, my sisters of war, those that fight and fight and FIGHT? They feel the same. We didn't fucking WAIT. Refused to watch the slaughter. Gaining ground only to lose it, losing ground only to claw it back.
Holding the line.
We can't actually KILL him. We know that. Only the Saintess can actually fucking END this nightmare. But his monsters? Those still fall too steel. And if we are to die regardless, why NOT in defense of our homes?
We've managed to push a path, deep into the Demonic lands. A spear point to stab the heart of HIS damned empire. We... we can hold it. MUST hold it. At all costs. For that flimsy, weak willed, half trained NITWIT of a child. So when she FINALLY gets off her ass and stops making goo-goo eyes at her trainers? She can come and finish the job.
Then get crowned queen of forever or something.
I don't know, I don't CARE. I'm going to buy some damn chickens. Fill a yard with them. Honor my parents and be the best damn farmer this world has ever SEEN.
Another crash against our shields. Screams as someone's arm breaks. As someone else is savaged through a crack in our barrier, as something probably gives. I slam my spear forward. Vital point. Vital point. Ignore the strain. The way your arm feels like a giant is stepping on it. Like some is trying to rip the shield from your grip. Hold... HOOOOLD!
Go for the eyes. Aim for the throat. Kidneys. Arteries, arteries, heart! The spear is wretched from my grip. I shout for another. Reach blindly, trusting my countrymen. I feel the grip of another one pressed into my hand. I slam my spear forward.
The fight goes on.
For hours.
It was some sort of ape-bear chimera things this time. But bigger and with spikes. No ones quite sure if they're in the "fucked up monstrosities" book yet. I'M certainly too dead on my feet to check. I sit an eat some fucking soup. Mmmmm, rations soup. Technically edible! My favorite flavor.
In the distance, sits the Demon King's fancy ass doom castle.
Any closer? And HE might be inspired to actually "deal" with us. I can't wait for the day it-An explosion of noise from the command tent. Everyone's heads whip around to stare, alarmed. But... but that didn't sound... BAD shouting. It takes us a long, long moment. It had honestly been YEARS since some of us had HEARD such a noise. But...?
W...was that?
Excitement?
I passed off my soup to a newbie. He honestly needed it more anyway. Told him to eat. Then got up and headed for command. Something was happening. As I got close, the flap was all but ripped open. A commander, actually? Smiling!? What the fresh hell?
A commander looking for someone. Spots me. Waves me over and in. I jog over. The tent is practically HUMMING with excitement. And there, on the tabke with the war map? Is an old, OLD dagger. Very... magical girl, in design. Flourishes, sparkling, and lovely dispite being what must be... what, centuries old? Worn to hell and back? What IS that?
It's the weapon of a previous Chosen One.
A Holy Blade.
Holy Shit. HOW. Where?! Where AND HOW!? I thought the royal family snapped all those fuckers up too show off! If not them, the Temple! I'm met with seni-hysterical laughs of disbelief.
A PRIEST stole it.
Nearly DIED doing so. Temple's probably FURIOUS. Gonna come to get it BACK, most likely. We're gonna have to move FAST. We're gonna only get ONE chance at this. I nod. Ready for whatever command needs me to do. Hold off some holy knights? Punch a priest? I'll get... SUPER excommunicated, but? Fuck it. If it saves lives.
No.
No they need me to wield the blade. I'm sorry?? WHAT.
It's apparently Maiden Locked. Fucking... Maidens Only! Got lucky? No holy weapon for you! Married but a virgin? Weaponless! Oh, fffffuck yooooou, creepy perv deities. There are LIVES ON THE LINE, in this, a GOD DAMNED WAR, and you LOCK the import weapons behind "mint condition pu-"!!!
The commander cuts of my, frankly, VERY understandable rant.
Hands on my shoulders. Looks me in the eyes. Will I Do This? I would have to take the knife and sneak behind enemy lines. Into the demon kings castle. And try to get the jump on him. NO ONE would be able to go after me. Help WOULD NOT be coming. If I fail... that's it. Game over. The demons would have me.
I laugh.
It is... not a cheerful sound. Not like it once was.
Is it even a choice? Of course I am. Frankly? I hope it hurts. I hope it's slow. Hurts every second and feels like eons. That he BURNS from the inside out. I'm gonna make him EAT IT.
Waiting until night would be suicide. They get stronger at night. Can blend in to the shadows. But they're cocky. They won't expect an attack just before that. So twilight is when I'll strike. Afternoon, when I head out. I... I leave my gear behind. Say my goodbyes.
I'm not the Chosen One.
Just some farmer's daughter with a grudge.
It don't think I'll be making it back. Don't really expect to even succeed. But by the gods... I plan to HURT him. Every piece we chip away, is one the soul behind us doesn't have to fight. I do this not for me. But for the child who will never know the FEAR that I did.
I will die so they don't have too.
The castle is dark. Humming with power I can FEEL but can not understand. Grand and sweeping architecture. Great windows that should let in far more light then they do. A blood red carpet upon bone white floors. The walls are black. It... some how merely stepping inside, seems to suck all color but red from the world. All heat.
I see no one here.
But I hear whispers.
I tighten my grip around the weapon. The only thing that feels WARM. These hallways are designed to make you feel small, I can tell at a glance. I refuse to give in. I am a farmer. A soldier. I do not CARE about your damn castle! I dig deep into my memories, keeping to the walls, and try to remember where the hero found her foe.
I trace the path in my head. Cut out the lost wandering as best I can. Right slightly, then forward, I think. If I am wrong, I can double back. Follow the book's path exactly. I move slow. As quite as I can.
Still... I find no one.
No servants, no gaurds, no resistance of any kind. Something like fear sighs like a specter down my spine, cold and vague. Something is not right. I do not let down my gaurd... but the longer it persists? The worse my paranoia grows.
Finally. The throne room. Magnificent beyond measure, in blood red and monochrome. Rare touches of gold glint and catch the eye. Stained glass giving it all a surreal scene from high above. The runner at my feet plush enough to render my foot steps silent. It is red... so very, very red.
The Demon King leans against one fist, resting on his throne, magnificent and beautiful like a statue brought to life. Carved of pale ivory and obsidian. Just as feeling as stone. A monster. Living testament that what's inside counts most of all. For inside him? Is nothing but a void. A malicious PIT.
I will see him dead.
On silent feet, I sneak forward. Only to freeze at the foot of the stairs to his dais, my eyes locked on his face. Horror seeps through me.
An amused smirk.
"Oh don't stop NOW, you're so close." Breaks the silence. Golden eyes open, lazy and entertained. "By all means. Try."
My grip on the dagger felt almost painful, for how hard I was gripping it. He... he wasn't even bothering to move. Didn't even see me as a threat. F..Fine. Fine then! If it was a mistake on his part or NOT, I would TAKE IT. Any chance. Any chance at ALL.
The pressure of that gaze felt immense. But I tilted my head up, put my shoulders back, and moved. One step. Then another. Up the stairs. Onto the dais. Forward, slowly. I paused, just beyond his immediate reach. Not that it was anything like real safety. I stared. Shaking. Knowing I was shaking and unable to stop.
He sat splayed. Reclined and leaning against his fist, robes rich and arranged just so. The very picture of indolent decadence. It was deceptive. I KNEW it was. A trap. But to get too him... I had to step closer. My eyes moved from the splay of his legs back up to his face. His smirk had grown teeth. I... I refused to run. I would finish this.
I stepped forward. Between his long legs, feeling distinctly like I was balanced over a bear trap, and lifted the dagger. I refused to hesitate. Wait to see if he changed his mind. I slammed it forward. Right through his heart. Glaring, as I looked him right in the eyes. The blade HISSED. Like acid meeting stone.
He laughed.
Grin full of unhinged glee, a vice in the shape of a hand clamped around my wrist, and the world SPUN. I slammed against the floor, the Demon King straddling me, at the foot of his thrown. He loomed. Behind him, above me, shown a magnificent window the lit him from behind. Like a halo.
"You didn't even HESITATE. You'd rip my heart out, if you could. Wouldn't you?" He says. Almost an whisper, nearly a groan, filthy with something that terrifies me and shouldn't BE there. "I KNEW I sensed something. KNEW you were out there."
I desperately try to push the knife deeper. Use everything I can to... to just-!
All I want... All I NEED? Is to see it come out the fucking OTHER SIDE. Please. Gods, PLEASE! End this! I'm gritting my teeth. Snarling. This BASTARD. I HATE him! I HATE HIM!
"Ah~ That's it, little one." He groans. Not even bothering to hide that he's apparently getting off on this. I'll kill him. I'll FUCKING KILL HIM! "Good~, that's right. Just like that. Give IN~♡ I'll take SUCH good care of you. I've always wanted a little pet. Focus it all on me. Give it ALL to me~"
My brain feels like it's on fire. My lungs filled with ash and flame. I hate. I hate and hate and HATE! I can't think. Something is... wrong? Wrong! The blade hurts to hold. Like it's rejecting me. No. NO! I HAVE TO KILL HIM! I may not be the Chosen One but-!
It finally becomes too much. The pain of holding the blade out weighing my hate. It's like ACID. My hand spasming away like I was trying to touch a hot stove. My palm is an ugly red. Wounded.
In one fluid movement, my wrist is released, the blade pulled free, tossed aside, and my wrist recaptured, before I can claw his fucking eyes out. I grit my teeth. Fangs grinding togeth-... wait.... what?
I stare at my hand.
At the black talon like nails where normal nails were, just this morning. And feel... horror. My... my teeth feel weird. My eyes hurt. Sides of my head too.
"Got you~"
He throws his head back in a triumphant laugh. The sound echoing like a nightmare. Even as I watch, the pigment of my skin is changing. Draining away to something even. Something almost too pale. Unnatural.
"I'm so glad you've decided to join me, darling." My hands are slammed down on either side of my head. His face inches from my. Eyes burning with something terrible. "I haven't had a bride in SO long~ following your progress has been FASCINATING. And now! Oh little thing, I get to KEEP you all to myself. Make you GOOD for me. Learn every inch of you. You should be excited, darling~"
"I'm going to make you a Queen."
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avatarmerida · 5 months
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Hey fellow losers I’m back with more beta huntlow fluff. I know I’ve written some Paulina/William stuff before but this is based on the most recent even more beta huntlow we got from the leaked show bible. So we’ve gone from awkward little prince and fumbling quirky girl to feral witch hunter and equally feral creepy plant girl and I also love them too so hope ya like it 💛💚
———
“And if the water boils here how do all the plants live?” William asked, balancing on the fence along Paulina’s garden as she did some maintenance and planted some new seeds they had found in the forest. She never tired of answering his many questions about the demon realm, especially about the flora and fauna.
“The same way they do in the human realm I suppose,” she said with a small shrug. “I think the stems here have more coating than the plants you’ve seen, but a lot of plants close up during the rain to protect their petals.”
“Interesting,” he said, jumping down to look at her work closer. “How do you persuade the ones with teeth not to bite you?”
“I just keep them well feed, they don’t nip unless they’re hungry or scared,” she said. “But feeding them the food that helps keep their teeth healthy is tricky because it smells kinda gross.”
“They can smell it?”
“They sure can.”
“Fascinating,” he marveled, looking at them closer to see if he could understand how.
“Can I ask you a question?” Paulina asked, wiping some stray dirt from her glasses.
“Of course you may,” replied William, sitting on the ground beside her.
“Why are you still so upset with Luz?” She asked, changing topics. She saw his body language shift.
“I think it’s very clear why,” he said softly.
“You know she didn’t wake you up early on purpose,” she said gently. “She’s really a very nice person, and she genuinely thought she was helping you. Is there anything she can do to prove she’s sorry?”
“I’m not upset that she woke me from my slumber, I'm upset that she was able to,” sighed William, hugging his knees.
“What do you mean? Do you not want to be here?” Paulina asked, hoping it wasn’t the case. Selfishly, she liked having him around.
“When it happened… my uncle told me I’d awaken to a better world. That the suffering and confusion I was around would be gone. That I’d be awoken gently by my…”
“By who?”
“… by my true love.” He said under his breath, almost as though he was embarrassed to utter the words.
“Oh, so you think that Luz is your-.”
“Ew! Bleh, no!” He exclaimed in disgust. “Er, sorry that was rude. No, no I don’t think that. But I think she able to awaken me the way she did because I don’t have a true love.”
“Oh,” Paulina breathed, seeing the genuine hurt slip though the cracks as he tried to keep his lip from trembling. She ventured this was the first time he had said the sentiment aloud. “Or maybe the spell just wore off.”
“Or maybe it just gave up,” he said with a hurt chuckle. “I mean, it makes sense; maidens didn’t favor me before, why would they ever start now? I was better off sleeping forever, giving the world some peace.”
“William, don't say that,” she said, taking his hand. He didn’t flinch at her dirt covered hands.
“It’s true, is it not?” He sighed, focusing on her knuckles decorated with grass stains and tiny scars from the thorns she did not fear. “I cause you nothing but trouble despite you showing me nothing but kindness.”
“Well technically I did threaten to feed you to my plant,” she reminded him. It was certainly a unique first impression.
“Twas for my own good,” he said. “Plus knowing you as I do now, I know it was merely a jest to teach me a lesson. You are kind and patient and I’m just a nuisance.”
“No you’re not!” She insisted. “Okay, well maybe a little at first, but you’ve changed! You’re still learning and adapting, growth doesn’t happen all at once overnight.” She gestured to her garden as proof, a mixture of progress and color. “Love is the same way, ya know. Usually you have to get to know someone first before you label them as your ‘true love.’” She carefully plucked a vibrant yellow flower and placed it behind his ear.
“So… you don’t believe in love at first sight?” He asked timidly as she went back to her gardening.
He remembered when he first saw her, how there was a rosey spotlight around her like a halo. How time slowed down so he could soak in every detail of her beauty, memorize her voice and her movements before reality set back in and with it brought a new breed of confusion. He didn’t know better, but upon reflection the whole ordeal felt like what the poetry he had read in secret during his studies labeled as the phenomenon of love at first sight. His eyes had not seen such a thing before and ever since.
“Hmmm, not really?” Paulina pondered. “I think it’s different for everyone, but I also don’t think I’d want to marry someone I don’t know who kissed me while I was sleeping.”
“That is a fair point,” William chuckled, leaning over to help her make another hole in the ground for her next round of seeds. “You’re correct, as usual.”
“Exactly, and I’m also correct when I say if you want to fall in love then you will,” said Paulina. “You just have to give it time, it’s not something you can force.”
“You know… much about love then?”
“I mean, my dads really love each other but they didn’t get married the second they met,” she said. “They got to know each other first and they didn’t meet the way they thought they’d meet their spouse. Everyone’s story is different.”
“But it’s also possible that some of us aren’t meant to have a story.”
She couldn’t deny that, but she refused to accept a world where a boy who seemed to cherish love so much wasn’t meant to have it. “Maybe she was able to wake you because she was meant to introduce you to your true love.”
“Perhaps,” he said, his mind fully focusing on how she had been the first person Luz had introduced him to. He couldn’t complain about that logic.
“It also might help if you had a crush first,” added Paulina, carefully pressing the dirt back into the ground as though tucking it into bed.
“Like a duel?”
“Oh well, a crush is like… what comes before someone is your true love,” she tried to explain without divulging how complicated they could truly get. “Like, having positive feelings about someone, and wanting to spend time with them without, like, getting married after a few days. Just like thinking of them romantically.”
“I think I may… have formed this crush.”
“Oh! On who?” She asked with enthusiasm that made him quiet. Paulson wore her heart on her sleeve, but he had trouble expressing anything that was not deeply rooted in fact. Or at least, the facts he had been feed. A few moments ago he didn’t have the words to describe his feelings let alone validation their were sinful. He didn’t know the proper way to share them.
“Wel… um…”
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” said Paulina quickly, sensing the answer was hard for him to bring forth. “I didn’t consider it could be someone from your original time. I’m sorry if that was too forward, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”
“And… not wanting to share it doesn’t make it wrong?” William asked.
“Of course not,” she assured him. “You’re allowed to have secrets, and if you want to tell me eventually that’s fine too; you decide when and if you’re ready. I mean, I’ve had tons of crushes on very different people but sometimes they’re just something small, ya know? Sometimes they take awhile to figure out and sometimes they go away on their own, each one is different.”
“Has there ever been one you weren’t able to escape?”
“Well, I don’t know if I would word it like that,” she chuckled. “Having a crush is supposed to be fun, it’s exciting. And sometimes scary, but that also makes it fun. Like a rollercoaster.”
“A roller… coaster?”
“Oh yeah I forgot,” she giggled. “I’ll have to show you one.”
“A… crush?”
“No a rollercoaster,” she said.
“Ah, haha yes of course,” he laughed nervously, painfully aware that he could not seem to stop. “So w-what does one do if they don’t wish to have the crush dissolved?”
“Well I guess you could ask the person you have a crush on to go on a date with you.”
“And a date is like… a courtship, yes? I would seek to woo them?”
She giggled. “Yes, you would seek to woo them.”
He didn’t know what he said that was so humorous but he’d say it everyday for the rest of his life it meant getting to hear her laugh like that.
“Ah, well then. That’s another obstacle, as I know not the way to do so,” he said with a slight frown. “Especially in this foreign, modern land I feel that any outing I plan would not be up to her standards.”
Paulina’s ears perked, her first suspicion dashed as William made it clear the person he liked was someone he had met since he had awakened, which meant it was more than likely that she knew the person as well.
She wondered how well she knew them.
“I mean, like you said I still have much to learn about this world and this time,” he sighed. “But regardless, I’m still myself and I can’t help but feel as though someone discovering I have this crush for them would be most unwanted.”
“I don’t think so,” said Paulina. “I think they’ll think it’s sweet.”
“Surely you jest,” he scoffed. “You’re kind to spare my feelings but I’m sure if this person was aware of my thoughts regarding them they’d be repulsed and uncomfortable.”
“Well I’m sure they’d be perfectly fine with it,” she insisted. “After getting to know you these last few months I can tell you’re actually really sweet, even if you don’t think so. Give yourself more credit.”
“Oh so if I were to tell you I fancy you and wish to spend my days with you, you wouldn’t find it revolting?” He asked as though it was the most comical thing he could imagine.
“No.”
“Oh.” He said, surprised at how quickly and confidently she replied. He cleared his throat and dared to continue. “S-so if I were to say that I would consider it an honor to hold your hand and escort you anywhere you wish to go, you wouldn’t find it inappropriate?”
“No.”
“A-and if I told you you have the most captivating, soft eyes I’ve ever seen and that they make precious jewels envious you would be… okay with that?”
“Um…” Paulina found herself speechless, struck by his words like they were an arrow destined for her very heart.
“Oh yes of course that sentiment is made of cheese, as you might say.” He laughed, slightly embarrassed. “I should have realized my attempts at poetry were novice at best. I apologize if the example was offensive, I should have-.”
“No, no it was very nice!” she said quickly, not wanting to prevent him from saying such lovely things. “It was a beautiful thought, Will. I think anyone would like to hear that.”
“Truly? Uh, well thank you,” he said, unable to hide the blush that danced across his freckles. “Eh, but I’m sure you hear things such as that daily from your suitors.”
“My suitors?” She repeated with a snort. “Oof, now that’s a good one.”
But William did not find it humorous. “I’m sorry, I’m confused.”
“Well let’s just say when other witches my age notice me it’s usually not for the best reasons,” she said. “Most of them think I’m weird or creepy.”
“My apologies again, I’m still getting accustomed to the colloquialisms of this time, do those terms mean something different now?”
“No, I’m pretty sure they mean the same thing now as they did back then,” she said with a small smile, secretly recalling how when they first met William had a similar impression of her, though in fairness it was more about the witch aspect than her specifically. She wondered when exactly that had changed. “I’ve never been very popular. In fact, after Amity stopped talking to me and until I met Augustus most of my closest friends were plants.”
“Well perhaps it is because those plants have the sense to appreciate being in the presence of a rose.”
It was her turn to blush now. “Well, aren’t you the secret romantic?” She giggled, impressed with how quickly he had provided the response. They sat in silence a moment as William realized he hadn’t complimented her hypothetically this time and that something in her tone had shifted. As much as Paulina was willing to try and spare his feelings, he knew she would not lead him astray in this manner. She would not lie to him about this, but did that mean her words applied to her?
“Miss Park… I have a favor of sorts to ask of you,” he began, taking a deep breath.
“Of course,” she said, and he was taken back by how quickly she had agreed. She didn’t even ask what was in it for her benefit, like he was worthy of her assistance without any bribery.
“I will admit I know little of the courtship rituals from my time and even less about the present ones and I was hoping that you would be willing to help… educate me.”
“Oh yeah?” She said with a smirk, scooting closer to him. “How so?”
He could feel his hands get sweatier under his gloves. “Well, would I perchance be able to take you on an outing I believe suitable for expressing such… feelings,” he said as he cleared his throat as though the word made him dizzy. “And you advise me on if it was a suitable choice? I can compensate you for your time, I’ve been saving the snails I’ve acquired in exchange for my sewing and tailoring skills. We can have a grand collection of treats!”
“That sounds really nice,” said Paulina, adoring the way his full smile was on display and she could see the gap in his teeth without him shying away, too caught up in his own hypothetical excitement. “I would love to go out with you William.”
“Okay, wonderful,” he managed to squeak, and his eyes lit up in a way Paulina had never seen before. “I will uh I shall make all the arrangements! What day favors your schedule?”
“I’m fine with whatever day works best for you.”
“The sooner the better!” He exclaimed, louder than he intended to. He swiftly adjusted his volume. “I-I just mean for research purposes. I look forward to the learning aspect of the evening, heh.”
“I’m excited too,” she said and he couldn’t control the wide grin that consumed his whole face. She began to pat down the dirt to help support the budding bulb she had been keeping an eye on, ready to bloom any day now. “Do you think at the end you might be ready to tell me who you have a crush on?”
“I think that if everything goes as planned… I will be. Yes.”
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queen-of-deans-booty · 3 months
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The Aftershock
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Avenger!Fem!Reader
Word Count: ~1.7k
Warnings: minor angst
Summary: The after-effects of taking the Mark creep in slowly and you’re not sure if taking it on was the best thing for you. Dean once had it so you go to him in hopes he might have tips on how to manage the anger you know you’ll experience.
Past, Present, and Future Masterlist
Square Filled: "Did you forget who you're talking to?" (crossover bingo) for @fandombingo
Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3
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“What, in your head, told you that taking on something like the Mark of Cain was a good idea? Do you realize what could happen?”
“I know, Stephen, but Dean and Sam needed me. What was I supposed to do? Let them suffer?”
“No, you were supposed to use rational thought.”
“What do you want me to do now? You have magic. Take it off me.”
“It’s not that simple.” Stephen turns and curses under his breath. “Let me figure this out. This is exactly why I didn’t want you going off on your own.”
“I’m not a child, Stephen,” you glare.
“Your action proves otherwise.”
Stephen told you to stay close but there is one place you want to be at, and it’s nowhere near New York. He’s a smart man. He’ll find a way to get you out of this before something bad happens. The Mark is starting to mess with your head so you go to the one person who might understand how to make you feel better.
You don’t knock and sneak inside the same way you did when you first entered the Bunker. There is noise coming from the kitchen where Dean is, and his back is turned to you as he does the dishes. He doesn’t notice you standing there until he turns to grab two dirty dishes off the kitchen island.
“Shit!” he jumps. “What are you doing here? You scared me.”
“I’m sorry,” you mumble and scratch your arm absentmindedly.
“Are you okay? Are we okay? Tell me we didn’t do anything bad.”
“No, everything is okay, still. How is Sam doing?”
“Okay. He doesn’t remember much from his time as a demon albeit it short. He thinks it’s from the stress. I don’t know.”
“That’s good,” you nod, distracted.
“Is everything okay?”
“I need you to be honest with me.” He doesn’t say anything but patiently waits for you to continue. “How was life with the Mark?”
“Honestly? A nightmare. I was angry all the time. I was lashing out at people, and I had the urge to kill anything in sight. The Mark is a curse. It wants you to feed it with power. It never stopped… itching.” Dean looks at your hand scratching the arm your mark is on. “Kind of like what you’re doing now.”
“I feel bad for what I did to you and Sam which is why I took this mark. Now… I’m trying really hard not to let it affect my powers.”
Dean dries his hands and leaves the remaining dirty dishes in the sink before grabbing your hand.
“Come on. I have something that might help you with that.” He takes you down to the shooting range where everything is stocked and ready to use. “Have you ever shot a gun?”
“I have a powerful infinity stone on my wrist. Does it look like I need to shoot a gun?”
“Don’t be rude,” he says. “It’s always a good skill to have and right now, you’re going to learn.”
Dean grabs one of the smaller guns and stands behind you. You’re about to turn to face him when he puts one of his warm hands on your waist. Something blossoms in your stomach like tiny little glitters floating around. He pulls you into his wait and those glitters explode into butterflies. What is this feeling? Why do I like it so much?
Dean wraps his arms around your body and puts the gun in your hands with his on top of yours. He positions you where he needs you and removes his hands from your own but keeps them on your body.
“Focus on the target ahead of you. Aim and follow through. When you’re ready, pull the trigger.”
You aim the gun at your target and much like what you do with your powers, you focus on your target alone. You pull the trigger and shoot the target right between the eyes.
“You’re a natural,” he grins.
He runs his hands down your arms to your waist and settles on your hips. Your breathing picks up slightly and it’s not from the anxiety you feel. You hate this—not Dean this—the Mark this. You were always calm and collected, and you never lost your cool because you knew you were so much higher than mere humans. Call that arrogance but you never had a reason to feel things like anxiety, anger, and lust.
Just another thing this damn mark did you.
You turn in Dean’s arms so you’re less than a foot away from his face. He glances down at your lips before looking into your eyes.
“I don’t think this will work. Do you have something else to try?”
“Yeah, follow me.”
He pauses for two seconds before moving away from you. You see the hesitation in his eyes and you’re not sure if it’s hesitation for you or what you two are about to do next.
He takes you upstairs to the library where his precious mini bar is. After six months in the Bunker, he bought a mini bar on wheels where he keeps his good alcohol. He rolls the bar over to one of the tables and sits down before putting his feet up. You sit across from him and he leisurely pours you two a drink.
“I read alcohol isn’t the best when you have bottled up emotions on the internet.”
“Don’t listen to everything you read online.” He slides you a half-poured whiskey drink without ice. “Sip, don’t chug.” You grab the glass and take a small sip not expecting it to taste like shit. “Yeah, it’s an acquired taste.”
“Oh, God,” you cough.
“Never had alcohol before, huh?”
“I may have been born before time but I’m fairly young. Stephen only made me a person a few years ago.” Dean takes a big sip of his drink and sighs. “So, the Mark was a nightmare?”
“For me, yeah, but you’re not human. You’ll have a different experience than me. If anyone can do it and still stay good, it’s you.”
“You don’t know me.”
“No, I don’t, but we never had powers that are older than time.”
You take another sip of your drink and scrunch your face up in disgust.
“I’m scared I’m going to hurt people. It was my choice to take but I shouldn’t have done what I did to you and Sam. Before coming to your world, all I saw was a solution to your problem. Put God and Amara away. I did that. I just didn’t think of the consequence it would leave behind.”
“You’ll fight this, Y/N, better than I ever did.”
You tap your fingers on the table rapidly because of your anxiety.
“Do you ever feel like you want to do the right thing and when you do it, it feels like the most wrong thing ever?”
 “Did you forget who you’re talking to?” Dean chuckles. “I didn’t want Sam going through what I went through.”
“I get it,” you nod.
“You are not Sam or me. You’re not going to go through it the same way.”
“I hope not,” you smile sadly. “No offense but this alcohol is making me depressed. Got anything else?”
Dean just smirks. He doesn’t tell you where you’re going, only that you’re going to love it. He takes you to a run-down building in an empty shopping area. It’s nearly closing time but he must have asked the wiener to stay open later just for him.
“Dean, what is this place?”
“A place to channel the rage.” 
After checking in with the owner, he takes you to the back room which is covered with graffiti, spray paint, and broken items everywhere. Dean grabs two baseball bats from the back and tosses one to you.
“What do I do now?”
“Be like the Hulk. Smash absolutely everything.”
Dean takes the first swing at a broken TV and you jump back from the sound. It takes you two seconds before you're swinging your own bat around. Dean jumps back so he doesn’t get hit but he watches you smash things with a smile on his face. You slam the bat into a ceramic vase, and it shatters into a million little pieces.
This is actually kind of fun.
“Check this out!”
You aim your hand at the TV Dean hit and blast it with your powers. You leave a gaping hole in the middle of the TV, and Dean looks at you with a nervous chuckle.
“Why don’t we stick to the bats? I don’t think they’ll appreciate you blowing this place up.”
“Oops,” you giggle.
You and Dean take the entire hour just smashing everything to pieces until there is nothing left to break. You two leave the place with big smiles on your faces despite you still feeling the nagging sensation of the Mark. What Dean did for you helped but now that it’s over, the darkness creeps in slowly.
Dean looks over and sees the look on your face. It’s a look he knows all too well. He opens the passenger door for you but doesn’t let you in the car yet.
“You know what else helps?”
“What?”
“A nice long drive with the windows down. There’s nothing like the open road, rock music, and the wind in your hair.”
“Okay, lead the way, Winchester,” you grin.
You two pile into the car and Dean takes off toward the back roads. The drive back to the Bunker only takes twenty minutes to get from the rage room but the back roads make the journey stretch to nearly an hour. Dean puts on soft rock and allows that to be the only thing to comfort you two in the car.
The windows are down and your hair is blowing gently, and a wave of calmness washes over you. You don’t think it’s the drive or the music but Dean. Being in Dean’s company is the one thing that’s working for you. You look at him to see him with a smile on his face and singing along to the music. He barely looks at you and does a doubletake when he sees you looking at him.
“What?”
“Nothing. I just… I think I’m going to be okay.”
Dean reaches over and grabs your hand.
“Yeah, I think you will, too.”
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buff-borf-bork · 1 year
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just a short bit in the actors au!
Cheese and Pico. Pomeranian's, beloved by the cast, soft, cute, endlessly sweet. Vicious demons sent from the depth of hell itself to end Nick. It becomes a group effort to help him bond with the cuties, but can they do it in time to make filming not be it's own personal hell for him? an unused idea for the @swwsdjfanzine That's A Wrap!
Creamy brown tufts, big sparkling eyes, the picture of blissful peace. Little angels. The two Pomeranian's lounge around the cast, Pico resting in Jack's lap, Cheese turning in circles between Shaun and Ian for pets they’re both happy to supply. Moonpie gives a chirp from her spot on the dresser. 
Shaun leans against the bed, crossing his arms behind his head, “man, this bedroom set is cozy .”
Nick taps away at his phone, following where Ian tells him to meet them, sending a cat meme on his way. He turns the corner of the false wall to the bedroom set and--
Snap. A force of gnashing teeth and primal hatred.
Jack holds the growling, twisting pom, stopping him an inch away from Nick's face. A strangled sigh escapes Nick as Shaun holds Pico back by his collar, the dog struggling against him, blood lust of a fighting hound compressed into its tiny form.
As Nick supports himself against a wall to recover from his mini heart attack, Shaun stares dumb founded, “What did you do to these guys?”
“Nothing, they just despise me!”
”Isn't there some old myth that animals can sense your true nature or aura or something?“
Shaun snorts, ”Wow Ian, maybe your character's betrayal angle suits you better than we thought! That was brutal.“
“Ah, no, I didn't mean anything by it, you just reminded me of it, really!”
”I remind you of people who are so awful they have bad 'auras'?“
”That’s not what I meant and you know it!“
Picking up Pico, Shaun brings the pom over to Nick, “You just need to bond with 'em a bit, feed them a treat or something.” Bringing the dog closer to Nick does not quell its mission of destruction towards the man.
Jack soothes Cheese by blocking his view of Nick with his body, the dog relaxing a bit instantly. Jack suggests, “Well, Cheese is named Cheese, so maybe?”
Digging into his bag, Ian pulls out a stick of cheese, “Here.”
Nick accepts it with a concerned look, ”why do you have sticks of cheese in your bag?“
”It came with pepperoni.”
“It wasn't wrapped?”
 Ian huffs, “just try to give him the cheese.”
Cheese snarls at the peace offering, but as his nose picks up the smell Cheese’s yips turn into malicious snuffling. The bites start vicious but quickly calm down as Cheese's body relaxes and he eagerly eats the stick from Nick’s hand. Mirroring the pom, Nick's own posture relaxes until he gets the nerve to try petting Cheese. 
Cheese allows this.
Nick attempts the same process with Pico who, once lost in dairy bliss, loafs to enjoy his meal.
For one pure moment, Nick is at peace with his furry costars, basking in their plush comfort.
“What do you mean you gave them cheese?”
“It’s name is Cheese, I thought he could eat cheese!”
The dogs handler looks at him incredulously, “You meet a dog named chocolate, are you gonna feed it chocolate?”
“I’m sorry, I’m just trying to bond with them.”
Pico lays on his side in the soft bed, twitching with his tongue lolling as he pants. The vet brings Cheese out, whining in their arms. Noticing Nick, Cheese growls as best as he can through his pained whines. The guilt in Nick is edged into anxiety as the look in Cheese’s eyes is that of utter loathing, curbed only but the creature's dairy induced suffering.
Across the room Jack pulls his head out of a trash can filled mostly with sticky Popove’s Yogurtopia cups. He gasps for breath while watching the poor pups rest in their fluffy beds, being carefully groomed by their handler. A set assistant gets his attention, telling him where he needs to be next. He musters up the most polite smile he can for them and and watches the dogs again. He sighs, “oh, to be a lactose intolerant dog.”
“Yeah… Sure.” The assistant does not sound sure, they do however sound like they have somewhere to be as they tap their toes.
He chuckles to himself, “I’d be a jack russell.”
He breaks into a bigger fit of giggles, both at his own poor pun and knowing from the look on their face, he’s making the assistant suffer with him.
Still, he steals a longing glance to the sweet comfort the dogs get for their illness before squaring his shoulders and plastering on a smile. A little yogurt hasn’t killed him yet.
“Aw, who’s an itty bitty little bloodthirsty mosnter sent from hell to torture me? You are!”
“Guess I did tell you what you said didn’t matter as much as the tone…”
Nick continues to babble to Pico with Ian’s supervision. Between the two dogs, Pico will at least take his time before lunging at Nick. Seeing no sign of aggression, Nick slowly gets closer to Pico with his palm up. Pico seems relaxed to Nick’s eyes, watching him approach, licking his lips and yawning.
Nick stops talking in anticipation as his hand inches ever closer to Pico. Ian looks up from his script to check in on the sudden silence, jumping at the sight, “wait, don’t, those are signs—”
Nick doesn’t scream as Pico’s teeth latch into his hand. Just a short, choked gasp.
“Of aggression in dogs.”
The parking lot is empty, perfect for plan S.
Before Nick stands Shaun. In his hand he swirls a spray bottle as he sports a devious look on his face. The bottle is whirl-pooling with a mix of water and coffee coloured dog fur.
“Just stand still Nick, after this the dogs'll love you.”
Behind him, Jack with a practiced friendly smile that says he just wants to help you, Nick. Ignore the sinister energy coursing just beneath the surface, like the clouded spray bottle of his own. His recipe, water mixed with high quality dog food, stolen from the handlers trailer.
“This is for the best Nick, just let us help you.”
Nick glares at Jack over his shoulder, “did you just use your Sunny Day voice at me?”
He chuckles sheepishly, “maybe?”
Shaun takes the opening and spritzes him with the homemade odour. As Nick turns in shock and disgust, Jack does the same, the duo quickly coating Nick in the stench stew. He drips onto the concrete, wrinkling his nose with no escape from the scent. He glares at the duo only pretending to try and hide their laughter.
“It’s perfect, this bodes smell for you.”
“I know the situation stinks, but you’ve got this.”
“You can speak their language now, I’m pretty sure their dog breed is Stench.”
Shaun wheezes, “that, that one was bad Jack, stench?”
“It’s supposed to be a pun on French, like–”
“Shut up. Sorry, but shut up,” Nick interrupts, holding up a finger to silence them while he listens closely. “Are you guys hearing that?” 
They all strain their ears. In the distance, barking.
Shaun tilts his head, “sheesh, sounds like the production next door’s recording for a rabies attack.”
Jack looks at him, raising an eyebrow, “next door? They sound further than… Are they getting closer?”
Nick’s blood runs cold, “you don’t think?”
“No way, their trailer’s on the other side of the building”
The yips and growls grow closer, they can make out more and more of all the vicious intent behind the beast's voices.
Across the parking lot two silhouettes back-lit by the horizon jerk into view. The figures almost writhe in vitriol as they approach. Nick’s eyes widen as the caramel tufts become visible, giving him a warning to run. He can only hope that being able to make out the fur and snarled faces doesn’t mean it’s already too late.
Nick runs circles around the parking lot, weaving between cars with the prayer that they’re not small enough to just dart under the vehicles. He finds his car and wrenches on the door, but of course it’s locked. He manages to hop on top of it, Pico and Cheese nipping at his heels. Luckily too short to hop up with him.
“Hey, the trainer could use you to train their jumping height!”
Nick shoots Shaun a glare as he unlocks his car and begins the ordeal of trying to get in from the top without the dogs getting him. Jack and Shaun watch from the sidelines, too busy recording to be of any help.
He manages to hook the toe of his shoe under the door handle enough to open it. The dogs hop and snap, incidentally tumbling into the car. It’s a golden opportunity. With the dogs safely away from the door, he slams it shut, trapping the poms inside. He hops down, throwing his hands in the air victoriously.
Shaun and Jack run up, peeking through the windows. Shaun looks between Nick and the car worriedly, “I don’t think you can do that man. Can’t just leave dogs in a car.”
“No worries, I’ll get somewhere safe and call their handler to come pick them up. I’m not a monster.”
 Jack cups his hands on the window to get a better look inside. Sweat drips down his neck. “Nick? I don’t think you thought this through.”
“Huh?” Nick looks through for himself and it’s carnage. The poms leave nothing untouched in the car as they tear his things apart, the glove box open with its contents splayed about, the seats torn, teeth marks on the wheel. Nick whimpers a cry as he slides heartbroken against the car to his knees. Shaun pats his shoulder as Jack runs to get the handler.
Nick listens to the crew and directors talk about the possibility of just Photoshop masking the dogs in, or green balls on sticks. He sighs, leaning back in the chair, draping an arm over the back of it. His eyes closed, he feels something land in his lap. Taking a peek, it’s Moonpie curled up on him, purring away. She brings a small smile to his face as he gently pets her. The dogs may have put him in the cat house, but with Moonpie, it’s alright here. 
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The breeze was freezing cold but never cared to fly to that location. It is middle winter in this part of the world and I just went without an invitation. I didn’t care but I followed my instincts, my feelings, my gut. I wanted to see him to what invisible force calling me to do so. Will he accept to see me again? It was ok for me to go? I didn’t know the answer, I didn’t know the outcome, but I went either way.
It was still early when I have arrived, the house was quiet, I could not read his mind but I could sense his presence. His heartbeat. His always warm heartbeat even if he always said he had a dark heart. It was never dark to me.
Entering the room, he laid sleeping still. As I looked at him, as I approached carefully without making any sounds, my eyes fixed on him, memories rapidly passed by my mind but I had to erased them. The moment was now.
I stood by him contemplating him while was still asleep. His hair messy, his eyelashes dark, his eyes perfectly closed, his lips, no expression but yet giving so much strong power coming from his soul. All his has suffered , oh I knew , he was strong, strong at heart and soul. And why did I felt my heart racing? Why it still seemed like if we were two young men back in Auvergne at that single moment. I felt myself leaning forward and kissing his temple so gently that it was barely a touch. Cold lips against cold skin but i felt that connecting that never ceased in me.
I didn’t know if he would just get up suddenly and strangle me or threw me to the other side of the room or how he will react to my presence but i just did it no matter what. Bold move Lestat but the hell, I was listening to my gut. I was there because I still cared no matter the outcome. With his approval or not with his rage or not. I cared, I will always care.
I moved back up slowly waiting on his move, ready but not ready to whatever he will do, say or do to me now…
Always work. Keep himself useful, create, do something with his time, with his mind. There was a hollowness he couldn’t fill. An ache that threatened to cripple him constantly. Former demons had become new demons he had fashioned. Surrounded by souls but alone and that loneliness was becoming unbearable. Old and wise words echoed in his mind and Nicolas chose to close his soul and his mind because that ache that almost cost him his life could be light again. Aching and shielding that ache with fine Armani suits, poise and elegance. Musician, producer, it spilled effortlessly.
He forgot for a moment in which part of the world he chose to stay this time of years. Cold. Cold like those nights long ago. Only this time there weren’t warm arms wrapped around him, that laughter that could break the dark clouds and made him smile. Sun kissed kiss and the sun captured in those golden, silk locks.
He wrote, he pondered over sheets that needed to be attended to, urgent emails and more work he had laid on top of more work. The cold light of the laptop screen made the talon shape ring shine. A trinket saved from long ago, from a theatre and a life that seemed so long ago. Helping him dress and laugh about tiny details, looking around until that trinket rose to light and Nicolas put it on Lelio’s finger. The ring became his own, spilling blood until his hands had been taken and the ring seemed forever lost. Until, one day, it made its way back to him.
Nicolas didn’t realise he had fallen asleep. He had postponed going out and feeding until the dawn’s early light. The hunger cooked inside him as he stirred and kept his eyes closed, letting his dreams take him back to something that felt out of his reach.
Loneliness was their kind’s curse. He thought he could face loneliness. What a fool he had been.
Something…someone… Nicolas felt a press of gentle yet bold lips. A familiar smell and taste. A pull in his heart and veins and something in his soul beating faster. His eyes fluttered, hair he kept styled after the latest fashion, falling on his face.
“You’re here?” It might be the hunger. He idiotically let himself starve too focused in work and after so many years, he was imagining like in those dark years that Lestat was there. That he hadn’t head to his venomous words, that he had stayed and they eventually left that tomb in which he allowed himself to stay.
Dark eyes slowly opened to grasp the man before him. Dark blood flowing into his veins as well. He couldn’t read his mind, it didn’t matter. What human bond had been forged between their souls, the blood they now shared had broken.
“How?” Why, perhaps. After all this time, Nicolas thought Lestat had finally embraced hating him. He was too dark and he never wanted that darkness to spill into Lestat. That darkness always flew through him and he wouldn’t let Lestat be tainted by his darkness. And yet his soul yearned. Yearned the softness, the warmth, the touch, wrap his arms around him and let that fire take him.
Nicolas rubbed his face, trying to force back the ebbs of sleep and tiredness. He felt too human. Too weak “What time is it?” Lestat was before him, his kiss still burning on his temple. Like before. After all this time. His heart pounded in his chest, aching and yearning.
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Life is a glitch so don’t fill your brain with hocus- pocus.
- First comes with the worst , I have wondered whether there is less effulgent sunshine, to shine like a diamonds but although you may see some demons hiding behind evil sign, so basically the flower could be bloom when you plant it around a healthy environment.
- Starting when I was toddler, I never understood why there was so much hate in the world. I couldn’t grasp why people weren’t kind to one another, we just acting a roles to preserve the rule of love ,obviously Not everyone has capacity to hold you, because they haven't yet cultivated the capacity to hold themselves, and at the end of the day I just didn’t feel like I fit in anywhere In fact somehow you feel like a hostage in your body approximately your body embodies the extent of society's hatred and nobody gives you what you deserve unless you serve their benefits by the way, I chose to be misunderstood in order to keep my integrity and sanity so spite of all our world is full of immoral hearts can actually use your sacred heart to devastate you .
I always say that my mind is outwit to other minds and I don’t resemble for 90 percents to other people likewise you see paradox to our community however you can master the art of ignoring so unquestionably I live in the prison of my body prudent ,and nobody can control my present.
- I can't please everybody once you lease everybody matter of fact paper tails make you feel undoubtedly awesome as long as you gambling on people nothing could covers your excitement because you’d want to cover your resentment and melancholy in meantime you try to cook pain on the pan at least to switch those memorable pictures through your head however it doesn’t work like that then you paint malicious images make you forget the dark past but unlike what it seems like sometimes suffering makes you feel different when you grow up prolly once you surf a tremendous waves you’d say i’m not a slave of secret society because the system cuffed your hands to live normally in a small cave however you ain’t learn from it paying bills feels like you climbing an amount of hills but you ain’t reached to what you deserved what a cold world filled of cowards community
- That’s the main feeling when you overcoming failure.
So essentially don't ever bury yourself into something you won't able to endure it and don't use sacred hearts to make you feel pleased.
I've realized that you can completely change people’s life by a little tiny word and do everything they want and they will still not see your worth you might ask dear reader why is that exactly, !! how come !! the reason is simply than you think when you born around unhealthy environment you become savagely animal but often you try to be an angel in front of the world until you get revealed from angels.
there is a saying ideologically « « 
[ The crow taught us to bury each other however humans being taught us to kill each other ]
So Prevent yourself from negative guesses and Present your future to a positive gazes.
- everything that irritates us about other can lead us to an understanding ourselves and brings us some. Maturity.
- Let me debate on something is important most of us know that woman is a future column once she knows her worth but many of them tried to demolish that column by feeding babies poison and guiding them to a wrong path.
- Money trauma is real.
- Generational trauma is real.
- Survival patterns are real.
- slavery trauma is also real.
we vilify our humanity in the way the world did to us, thus anyways, what happens on earth stays on earth.
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luverofralts · 2 years
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Arkhelios University
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Beside Roman’s still body, candles flickered in the dark of the cavern. Dark shadows stretched across the familiar cavern, cloaking the soft approach of the abductor of Roman Bellamy.
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“Long time, no see.”
The footsteps paused for a moment, clearly thrown off by having an uninvited guest they did not anticipate. When that moment had passed, the dark shadow stepped quickly into the candlelight, its face a practiced image of excitement.
“It has been awhile, hasn’t it? I didn’t think I’d see you here again, Malika. Though, you look quite a bit differently than I remember.”
Malika looked up from the bloodstained cavern floor to meet the white glazed eyes of Keiki Yoxall. The child was trembling in the cold of the cavern, but her expression remained eerily calm. It was an expression that Malika had seen countless times before, but still disliked witnessing. Call her old fashioned, but her mother had always taught her that possession was a technique reserved for spirits, not demons. But then again, in all the time she’d known her, Kamalani had never been one for obeying societal conventions.
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“I see you’re back to your old ways,” Malika snapped irritably, her frustrations returning her the instant she watched Keiki’s clouded eyes roll dismissively. Kamalani had been a friend Malika had always treasured, but there were still moments where it took everything inside of her not to exorcise her from this mortal plane. “I couldn’t help but notice that my grandson is lying in a bloody pool down here. Something you promised to stop, Kama. You promised me that Roman would be safe. Why couldn’t you just use your current vessel? Roman has served his purpose; the curse was broken. You don’t need him anymore.”
“And how are you standing here exactly, Malika?” the voice of the young child jeered. “I don’t see you possessing a body, so you must have resorted to blood magic. Don’t preach at me while you use Roman’s blood to indulge your vanity.”
“I would never steal from Roman when you have taken as much from him as you have. You don’t need to rob both of your children, surely.”
It was eerie to see a small child warp their face into the familiar but devious grin Malika had seen over the span of decades. Kamalani wasn’t hostile, but she wasn’t exactly in a playful mood either.
“I have spent years crawling out of my prison, Mal. I need them both. They will be released, you know that.” The child paused, considering the situation before her. “If you’re not drawing from Roman, then how are you here judging me? One of Omar’s mistakes?”
Malika bristled at the thought of acknowledging her non-demonic grandchildren for any purpose, let alone drawing strength from them. Keiki’s face changed suddenly, having thought of another option that would explain the presence of her friend.
“You didn’t!” she laughed. “Really? I mean, you look like flesh and blood from here, it’s a good illusion, one of your best, but....the amount of power that must take. Roman doesn’t have the power to help you, which can only mean that you’re playing with my father’s newest toy. I would never have guessed that you had it in you. Here you are, harping on about borrowing a tiny bit of power from the child I gave birth to, while you draw power from the culmination of Project Bellamy. Hypocrite. Let’s let Roman know that you’re feeding off of his cute little mistake and see which of us he judges.”
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“I only did it to try to talk some sense into you,” Malika snapped quickly. “You’re going too far! You know the sovereign is watching Roman. She knows what you’re planning. Do you really think she hasn’t noticed your attempts to test your cage? Your father couldn’t take her on, what chance do you have against her? You’re going to be destroyed if you cross her again and I don’t want to see you suffer. You’re my friend, Kama. We have decades of memories together, let me find another way to get you out. I am one with the spirits now, surely they have a different path for you.”
It was the spirits who had warned Malika of her ex-daughter in law’s plans, so they must have some alternative to offer. They had never once lead Malika into a situation that she could not handle. Kamalani had always been dismissive of the beings that guided her friend through life, but she had benefited from their guidance all the same.
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“I don’t need an alternative,” Kamalani replied, hostility edging her voice. “I’m done. It’s taken years and some ugly choices, but I’m ready. Roman was enough. There’s a small window of escape, and I’m not waiting around for a second chance. We can discuss this over coffee sometime if you’d like, or via spirit board when you tire of draining the spiritual energy of your young great-grandson, but I’m doing this. I have a plan.”
“At what cost?” Malika demanded. “You made me a promise when we started out together, or have you forgotten? I defied my own mother to help you and you’ve yet to deliver on your end of the bargain.”
Malika was quiet for a moment, choosing her words carefully.
"I know what you did, Kama. You may be desperate, but I can't let you do that again."
"Do what again?" Kamalani asked innocently. "I've done a lot of things that I'm sure you disapprove of. You're going to have to be more specific."
Malika sighed, relying on the gesture to convey her feelings on the matter since she really didn't need to breathe any more. 
"You know I've been trying to groom Roman to be my heir from the moment he was born," she elaborated. "Years ago, I had a vision of Roman's daughter coming to me, terrifying and glorious in her power. She was blinding with potential, the perfect medium, stronger than even I am."
"Touching." Kamalani rolled her eyes.
"She came across time and realms to me for help, Kama," Malika continued. "Someone was killing her slowly, robbing her of both her life and birthright. She needs my help."
Malika stared at her friend, hoping for a confession but none came.
"I'm sure it hasn't escaped your attention that the Chun boy has managed to be expecting a child soon. A girl child."
The silence in the cavern was deafening. Malika’s spirit flickered briefly, waiting for the demon to answer her.
"And?"
The response was curt and sharp, much like Kamalani herself.
"And? Do you really want me to say it for you? I thought at least for me you might be honest. I know how you're gaining your freedom, how you got this far already. You're burning through my grandchildren, my heirs, the Bellamy family's future, for your own escape! You killed that handsome, innocent man Roman married, just to claw your way closer to freedom and you can't even admit as much to me? I thought we were friends, Kama. This was never our plan. You know I need to pass on my family's gifts, but- They're your own grandchildren, Kama, that has to mean something to you!"
Kamalani froze for a moment, unable to decide how to answer the accusation.
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"They were getting divorced anyway," she finally decided. "We all know that Roman won't ever figure out birth control in his lifetime, so he'll have more children in the future."
"Kama!"
"There were two of them, Malika. Two brilliant stars, full of energy and potential! They saved me years in that hole and they lived, didn't they? Roman has the children, and an estate left to him with no divorce. Who cares if they can't access demonic powers or speak with spirits? I did him a favour, and am that much closer to reuniting with him again. You can't put a price on a mother's love, Malika. Even you should be able to understand that."
"Then let this child go!" Malika ordered. You're already possessing a child that I can only assume is yours. Drain her and let Roman and my granddaughter go! I'm serious Kamalani. Roman will never forgive you if you kill the Chun boy and his daughter to escape your bonds. I will never forgive you."
"The husband's death was a mistake," Kamalani scoffed. "I grabbed too much energy too quickly and opened a larger void than I intended. I'm in better control now, Abraham will not be killed."
"And his daughter? I will not lose my heir, Kamalani."
"Fine! You've made your point," Kamalani sighed, crossing her arms. "I won't touch her again. She may still have abilities, don't look at me like that. You're not the only one with family responsibilities."
"And Roman? He's your son, Kama, not a battery you can use when you need it. Even blood magic has its limits, you're going to seriously hurt him all to benefit yourself."
Kamalani made a dismissive noise while scribbling a dark rune on the cavern floor written in blood Malika assumed to be Roman’s.
“There, all done,” she said mockingly, making matching inscriptions on the forehead of the child she was possessing. “The sovereign can go fuck herself, I’ve wasted enough time on her games.”
Malika watched with fascination as beams of light filled the cavern, illuminating the blood trail that dripped between Roman and the body of his half sister. In an instant, a woman’s figure emerged from the light, running her hands all over her body to confirm that the transfer had worked.
“Are you going to help your children recover at least?” Malika demanded. “Should I summon someone to help?”
“Don’t bother,” Kamalani replied happily. “I’m meeting someone, but I’ll be back soon enough. I’m sure the sovereign will be all over this place any second now; I should leave.”
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Malika watched helplessly as the demon vanished into thin air, her mission now complete. Both Roman and Keiki’s bodies remained lifeless and unresponsive on the ground, but there was little she could do to interfere.
I hope you know what you’re doing, Kama. Roman deserves better than this from his mother, not that you seem to care.
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orbitswritings · 2 years
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This isn’t really an avatar x reader fic (yet) which is why i’m not tagging any characters. its more like a scenario/backstory for the reader, one that I may like to build other drabbles off of later. it probably feels really contrived but let me know what you think. -orbits
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On Pandora, a small human trial colony has been created.
During development of this project, quality and comfort for the future inhabitants wasn’t even on the list as a priority. The entire goal was to take a piece of Pandora’s land and quickly turn it into what was essentially a base without any features for the goals of research.
The population of this homely hub consists of people who don’t have a background in science or anything else comparable to the assets by other landings. It’s people whose lives were so poor on Earth, whether through a criminal record or a lack of money and assets, that this risk was seen as their only chance for anything better than the hell back home. They are guinea pigs for how a clump of regular civilians could function on Pandora.
It was shaped like a wheel, the housing complex within the middle and the spokes of the hallways radiating outward.
The protection for the inhabitants consists of a metal fence with inconsistent electricity as well as rickety crawler-robots about the size of a dog, hobbling around the perimeter. For as low quality as it sounds, it had kept the natives and whatever else out. Maybe their destitute look is what kept them safe, making Pandora unable to perceive even these sky demons as anything of a threat.
Its shoddy and already, wear and rust is starting to appear from barely a year of use.
Small cubbies with doors are meant to serve people as their households.
Your ‘cubby’ is decorated by a rug, some photos and prints back home that you managed to slip into the tiny amount of luggage you were allowed.
For the batteries you traded him fruit, a real delicacy on the base because practically everything else was just chalk in various forms.
The built in ceiling lights are like the electric fence in that they’re unreliable. Often only barely give off a dull glow, so you have to rely on a lantern that runs solely on batteries. Most of the stuff on the base was solar powered, but lucky you managed to score one of the few things that weren’t.
Even better, those specific batteries are held in bulk by a man down your hall, who was acted like the Godfather when it came to trading for those beloved batteries.
Unfortunately, to get the fruit required you to step outside the safety zone, which was literally just a toe outside the doors. Even the outside within the fence was considered dangerous, which everyone knew deeply about due to the paperwork that had to be signed prior to being slept, packaged, and shipped off.
It was why people never left the indoors, instead finding new and exciting ways to kill time off the rest of their duration here (which was forever until something eventually blew out leaving you all fucked).
Everyone, except you.
Slowly feeding a human low levels of Pandora’s air helped to gradually increase the immunity to it. Prior to what people lovingly referred to as ‘being tubed,’ your height, weight, and whatever other notable physical factors, would be taken down and fed into a program. The computers would then automatically calculate your exact dosages spanning over the five years in stasis.
Going outside was easy. A few clicks and a signature on the digital screen and the sealed doors opened.
Through intense research efforts and experimentation, scientists had figured out how to get humans to breathe naturally on Pandora; exposure therapy.
It was always nice to just enjoy something without having to suffer the agony and various other failings that the ‘testers’ most likely went through in order for something to exist.
Still, it wasn’t perfect. It was told to keep in mind that your tolerance to Pandora’s air is like stamina, and that an intense amount of cardio or just extremely prolonged exposure to the air outside the filtered base could lead to tiring out your lungs, causing struggle to breathe normally. It was recommended to keep a mask on hand just in case whenever you were outside.
So, that was simple enough to follow. It was the ‘not getting killed’ part that was tricky.
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monstersdownthepath · 2 years
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Monster Spotlight: Gray Render
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CR 8
Neutral Large Magical Beast
Bestiary 2, pg. 140 (Art from D&D 5e’s Mordenkainen’s Fome of Toes, pg. 209
These monstrously strong and solitary beasts are predators that feed on whatever smaller beast they can catch, spending hours of their day chasing down prey and devouring it. They’ll eat just about anything they believe they can kill, and once they sight prey with their numerous eyes, they’ll chase them through any obstacle. The Render’s hungering rampages are a sight to behold as they tear boulders from the ground and rip entire trees to splinters in their search for meat, to say nothing of the savagery they display when they manage to catch their prey, ripping it limb from limb and sometimes going so far as to begin eating before it’s is even dead.
Granted, the same can be said for a lot of mundane predators, so let’s not fault the Gray Render there! With an Int of 3, barely past the threshold of sapience, their actions are just destructive instinct, NOT malice and certainly not sadism. One shouldn’t hate a lion or crocodile for eating a gazelle, after all. They’re even noted to be largely peaceful outside of their hunts, ignoring other creatures until one proves it’s a threat to avoid wasting energy and risking their health, just like any big cat! That’s just nature!
What’s NOT natural is the Render’s unusual fixation on keeping pets. For reasons that can only be guessed at (they can speak Giant, but again they’re barely sapient), Renders will “adopt” herds of herbivores, solitary marsh dwellers, or even entire small settlements of humanoids as their “pets.” They grow uncannily fixated on their pets, never straying far from them, charging straight to their side when they need help, and even giving their own lives protecting them. Gray Renders do NOT fight to the death in the wild, but will fearlessly leap in front of a dragon or demon to give their pets a chance to escape.
Amusingly, Renders will also save portions of their kills to give to their pets, even if the pet never expresses a desire for the meat (or can’t eat it in the first place), which the book notes is like “a domesticated cat.” Tragically, it notes Renders will respond with ‘confused sadness’ if their pet attacks them, returning to their side time and time again until the pet either accepts them... or finally kills them. They don’t seem capable of understanding why some creatures may not react well to their terrifying shape, but those that DO react well find themselves in the presence of a powerful guardian, especially if someone among the population under the thing’s protection can speak Giant.
While Gray Renders lack defensive abilities, they make up for it with high AC, high HP, and incredible strength. Their offense is limited to a CCB, each claw dealing 1d8+7 damage, while the bite deals 2d6+7. Like their name suggests, however, anyone struck by both claw attacks in one round suffers from Rend, taking an additional 1d8+10 damage, and Gray Renders also Grab anything they strike with their claws to wrestle them down with incredible strength and pulverizing weight, snapping or even tearing off limbs to disable both attackers and prey.
Their statblock is largely undecorated by unique powers (aside from a descriptively-named Double Damage Against Objects), but their incredible strength, Power Attack feat, and ability to Rend anything they strike makes them formidable nonetheless. Their suicidal defense of their pets means the only running that will happen will be yours, as the beasts will battle until they can no longer draw breath if it means keeping their pets safe... whether or not their pets even like the Render in the first place. Their bizarre habits makes them easy, if tragic, creatures to throw in the path of any adventuring party, either defending a tiny village of people, protecting a herd of livestock (even from its own owner, which is where the party comes in), or fighting the party alongside another monster it’s attached to.
One final note to end on, though: A Gray Render can stay attached to a single pet anywhere from a month to a decade, never once doing anything that could possibly harm its pet. However, once this attachment ends, the Render will wander off to find a new pet, completely ignoring its old one even if they come seeking it out. It won’t attack them, but it will never defend them again unless the attachment reforms, going so far as to gently pick them up and physically turn them around, pushing them away like an unwanted animal. Everything about the Renders makes me feel emotions I don’t like :(
You can read more about them here.
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obeymebutcursed · 4 years
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Imagine infant Satan not even a day old yet sharp teeth, tiny claws, eyes arent open yet, making some unholy noises as he scurries along the wall. Dia has to explain it's normal demonic baby behavior.
Dia: "He's hunting for food while navigating by scent and sound"
Luc: "My child is fuckin what???"
Satan: *grabs a big ass spider with his grubby baby hands and starts biting the legs off one by one*
Beel: *was holding back from eating it himself* 👁👄👁
The rest of the bros: 😨😨😨😨😨
Dia: "He's actually feeding off the spiders suffering but the extra protein from physical eating it isn't too bad either." *laughs joyful* "You got yourself a growing boy Lucifer!" 😃
Luc: "H-ow often will he do this?"
Dia: "Every one to eight hours. Celestial children don't hunt?"
Luc: *genuinely distressed* "NO THEY JUST SIT THERE AND STARE TILL WINGS FORM. WHY DO DEMON INFANTS HUNT????"
Dia: *laughs* "Well it's not like we can keep em in the house? Barbatos, open a window and fetch the broom!"
THIS IS SO CURSED I LOVE IT OH GOD
You are legendary anon.
Baby Satan scurrying across the wall might lowkey give me nightmares.
Imagine the bros just chilling in their room and hearing footprints on the walls and look up to see the tiny horror scuttling to find a spider.
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please please a part 2 of that gamer!geralt au, them doing something like Q&A
Nonie, I hope you know what you signed up for. This got out of hand lmao. like 2.4k of Q&A kind of out of hand. 
Warnings: swearing, talk of drinking to excess, kinda spicy questions, lil kisses, idk how but I meant for this to be goofy and horny and it got kinda soft? what’s new?
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“Holy shit,” Geralt sat staring at his phone as he mindlessly stirred pasta.
“I swear to god, if you found a way to burn noodles-” Jaskier turned away from the blender to wave a wooden spoon covered in pesto puree.
Geralt shook his head and held his phone up to him, scrolling through the replies to a tweet as he did, going on for ages as Jaskier’s jaw slowly got closer to the floor.
“What are those for?!”
“I put up a poll for a boyfriend Q&A or a game review and not a single person has voted for the game review.” Geralt was still scrolling through questions people wanted answered as he watched Jaskier’s face go from shock to confusion to a smug grin. 
“They love me,” he sang, kicking his heel up as he turned back to the pasta sauce.
Geralt rolled his eyes and started screenshotting some of the less invasive questions, shaking his head and muttering, “Course they do.”
-
Geralt pressed record, waited a moment, and heaved a dramatic, long-suffering sigh, “You guys literally didn’t even give me a choice on this one,” he reached off frame and scruffed Jaskier, plopping him down on the couch with him. 
Jaskier didn’t stay where he was put for even a moment, using his momentum to bounce up onto Geralt’s lap with a shit-eating grin, “Oh? Are we rolling?”
Geralt dropped his forehead to Jaskier’s shoulder, stifling a laugh, “This is gonna be a long one.”
“Yeah, it is,” Jask agreed, then turned to the camera, stroking Geralt’s hair, “My fans want more!”
“OH-kay,” Geralt manhandled Jaskier to sit next to him which earned him a pout and a leg draped over his lap as he continued his intro, “I’ve got a bunch of questions from twitter. I didn’t even have to confirm which video we would do, you guys just went straight for the kill. I picked a few, Jask picked a few, neither of us knows which ones the other picked.” he turned to see Jaskier wiggle his eyebrows at the camera, “Why am I thinking you picked the raunchy ones?”
The brunet pretended to be offended before he smirked, “Only a few.”
Geralt rolled his eyes. “Of course,” he nudged Jask with his shoulder and opened up his phone to his screenshots, “Okay! First up is AdamSandlersBitch, nice name. They asked what Jaskier’s favorite gaming console and game to play is.” he turned to Jaksier with raised eyebrows.
His boyfriend cringed, “My.. my phone? I don’t know? I play a lot of Candy Crush while I listen to podcasts?”
Geralt smiled sweetly, “Wait what about Stardew Valley? I thought you started that?”
“I did!” Jaskier brightened up for a moment before he deflated again, “But I got confused and then the ADHD made me bake cookies.”
“Those were good cookies. I’ll play with you if you want?” Geralt’s normal ‘streamer dude’ persona melted away while he played with the rips on Jaskier’s jeans. 
Jask leaned forward and kissed his temple, “I’d love that.” 
Geralt blushed, even after years, Jaskier’s affection still caught him off guard. 
“Mkay! My turn!” Jaskier flashed his devilish grin and read, in his most obnoxious voice, “Dwn2Clwn said ‘do you two live together? Have you said ‘i love you’? And who tops?’”
Geralt’s mouth twisted into an upside-down U as he stared at Jaskier in muted surprise, “Honestly, not as bad as I expected.”
Jaskier looped his arm around Geralt’s, “I’m starting off easy.”
Geralt let his mock-disapproving gaze linger just a bit before he answered, “The living together is kind of new-like a few months. This one said ‘I love you’ on, what? The fourth date? Fifth?”
“Fourth.”
“No, it was the fifth, Eskel locked himself out on the fourth. Remember?”
“Shit you’re right,” Jaskier gave the camera a stern look, “In my defense, we’d been friends for a good four years before this. I wasn’t just confessing my love to a tinder date - though I have done that before.”
Geralt nodded, “That was very amusing.”
Jaskier tapped his nose, “Don’t avoid the last part, darling.”
Geralt huffed and stared down the camera, and, in the most matter of fact tone possible, said, “We switch. Compromise, folks. Can’t have one person doing all the work all the time.”
Jaskier nodded sagely, patting Geralt's chest, “We got a pow-”
Geralt clamped his hand over Jaskier’s mouth, 100% sure he was going to say ‘power bottom pillow princess’, “Nope. I’ll get demonetized for that.”
“But not who tops?” Jaskier asked through Geralt’s fingers.
He just shrugged, “I don’t make the rules.”
Jaskier tapped his phone and raised his eyebrows, telling him to move to the next question. 
“Mis- Mischanication? Shit I hope I said that right, Mischanication asked, ‘would you ever get a pet together?’ We did! Her name is Roach and she’s a little shit! I told Jaskier not to feed her, but he did, now we have the snuggliest, crankiest cat I’ve ever met!” 
Jaskier had gotten up to pluck Roach from her perch on the windowsill when Geralt had read the question and plopped down with her as Geralt finished his proud speech, “She’s not a little shit! She’s just delicate! Isn’t that right, darling?”
Geralt scratched under her chin and cooed, “You are a nasty little dragon baby, aren't you?! Just a little garbage child! Yes, you are. We love the tiny demon beast.”
“Geralt!”
He snickered and kissed Jaskier’s hair, “Next question, love.”
Jaskier grumbled something about positive reinforcement as Roach scampered back to her cat tree and he unlocked his phone for his next tweet, “This darling wants to remain anonymous,” Geralt gave him some serious side-eye at that, “they said ‘I think I’m in love with the flower twink, where can I find one of my own?’”
Geralt frowned at the camera and pulled Jaskier onto his lap, holding him close and snuggling into his chest, almost growling, “Hands off.”
Jaskier giggled, brushing Geralt’s hair out of his face as he talked to the camera, “You heard the man. Unfortunately, I was not mass-produced and I’ve been spoken for.”
Geralt looked up at him with what could only be called suspicious puppy eyes, “You picked that one just to sit in my lap didn’t you?”
“Yes. And because I want to change my socials to ‘flower twink’.” 
“Do it,” Geralt kept Jaskier on his lap as he swiped to his next question, “Eggsfuckingsuck - heh, my dad hates eggs- Eggsfuckingsuck says, ‘what is the most embarrassing thing you’ve caught each other doing/saying?’ Oh boy, do I have a story for you!”
"Oh I couldn't say the thing but you can tell this story!?" 
"...you have a point... Check my insta stories. I'll put it there after I post this." 
Jaskier nodded, ever so pleased, and turned to the camera, "Our dear Yennefer of sorceryglammour once beat Geralt at trivia night when the theme was 'video games'." 
“We did shots before we went to the bar and she goaded me and Lambert into a chugging competition before the round started. I’m telling you, she planned this. Yen is ruthless.” Geralt desperately tried to justify his defeat but Jaskier was having none of it. 
“She’s mostly harmless, plus I have video evidence from that night. You weren’t that far gone.”
“Pull it up! Let’s settle it.”
Jaskier patted Geralt’s head like one would a toddler, “I’d have to get my old laptop out. Later, darling.”
Geralt had a smug look on his face, “That means he doesn’t have it anymore.”
“Next question!” Jaskier squeaked, not at all changing the subject. 
Geralt shrugged, “If you admit I won that one.”
“It’s not a competition!” Jaskier laughed, looking down at him with that stupidly smitten look on his face.
“Hmmm…” Geralt tilted his chin up defiantly, “if you say so.”
Jaskier kissed him, lingering a little bit more than could be considered chaste, “I do.” 
Geralt looked up at him, batting his eyelashes, “Fine then, next question.”
Jaskier handed him his phone and he read it off leaning his head on Jaskier’s shoulder, “CountryBumpkin42 asked if we play any instruments. I play the recorder very poorly, but Jask plays everything.”
“Not everything, but yes, I could cover a Trans Siberian Orchestra song if I had a pedalboard with enough loop settings.” Jaskier preened. 
“And more,” Geralt added, counting on his fingers as he spoke, “In this house alone he has two pianos, three different types of guitars, a drumset, a violin and fiddle, a flute and piccilo, an oboe, a mandolin, a lute, bongos, saxophone, clarinet, tambourine, trumpet, and xylophone. Did I get them all?”
Jaskier glanced from side to side with a guilty look, “Ah… no, I bought a bass sax that showed up last night.”
“Oh, did Thursday at 3 decide they wanted to switch after all?”
“Yeah! She got the third chair as a freshman on a loaner instrument! I’m very proud!”
Geralt seemed to remember they were recording and turned back to the camera, “J teaches music at the university and does private lessons.” 
“It’s how I can afford such a pretty trophy boyfriend,” Jaskier teased, ruffling Geralt’s hair and earning a little chuckle.
“Mkay, what do you have next?”
Jaskier smoothed Gearalt’s hair back down as he read the next question, “3R4108F6!J asks if we have any cute nicknames for each other.”
Geralt’s eyebrows nearly flew past his hairline, “J has a new one for me almost every day.”
“Its true,” Jaskier nodded, “I am a slut for cute nicknames. This morning was Ger Bear, one of my faves. I called him Thumbs for a bit, I lovingly call him Dumb Fuck rather often.”
“And he is Dip Shit, it’s balanced. I usually just shorten names? Jask or J is usually it, right?” Geralt asked, shifting so Jaskier was sitting on the couch between his legs and they were both turned out toward the camera but very much still cuddling. 
“And when I’m being childish I get Alfie. But Geralt is much more deliberate and specific with his nicknames. It’s a bit of a friendship level up when he uses nicknames.”
Geralt frowned at him, “I do that?”
Jaskier giggled, “You never noticed?”
He tilted his head, giving Jaskier a quizzical look, “Not at all.”
Jaskier cupped Geralt’s cheek, “You’re so cute.”
Geralt blushed again, leaning into the touch just a tad, “Who’s turn is it?”
“Yours,” Jaskier hummed, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. 
“Okay,” Geralt blushed even more, “I had this one as an alternate, but uh, Yen asked what we’d name our first kid?” 
Jaskier leaned into Geralt’s shoulder and hummed as he thought for a moment, “I always like Blake or Spencer, but I seem to remember you saying something about old world traditional names?”
Geralt nodded, absentmindedly running his fingers up and down Jaskier’s arm, “My grandma was hoping each of us boys would be a girl and wanted mum to name us Cirilla every time. I quite like it, but I’m rather open as long as I don’t know someone with the name. I really like Eric?” 
“Oo, I like Eric.”
“But you like the neutral names.”
“I do, but it’s your hypothetical kiddo too.”
Geralt gave him a little squeeze, “There’s time for that later. What’s your next one?”
Jaskier snorted when he looked at his phone, “What are your guys’ love languages?”
Geralt just looked down at Jask, completely entangled in his arms, then up to the camera, “I’m gonna hazard a guess at physical touch.” 
“Yeah, I think that’s a safe bet,” Jaskier giggled, “I haven’t taken the quiz in years, but I was that and gifts.”
“Oh, yeah. Physical touch and words of affirmation. I got like a 0 on acts of service and gifts, but I really like giving gifts.” 
“Mhm, yes you do,” Jaksier wiggled his eyebrows, then turned to the camera, “I also had no idea you could have different giving and receiving languages till I met this one.”
Geralt nodded then turned to him with a slight frown, “you know I really thought your questions were going to be more graphic.”
“Oh, honey I saved the best for last,” Jaskier winked. 
“Fuck me,” Geralt grumbled before reading off his last question, “Cali852 asked what we did for Pride.”
Jaskier’s eyes lit up, “Oh Pride was fun. We watched the parade, of course, then Yen did our makeup and… and where did we go after that?”
Geralt looked like he’d been waiting for this, “We went to a club, where you ordered three kamakazis, knocked them all back, danced for twenty minutes, then I took you home.”
“N-no… we went to the beach, didn’t we?”
“That was the year before. We were going to go to the drag show at our regular bar too, but someone had just finished grading finals and went a little too hard.” 
Jaskier grinned, “Speaking of finals, time for the last question. I had a different one in mind but if the thing I cant say from earlier would get this demonetized then that defintitelyi would. So we’re going with ‘what is the wackest placy y’all banged?’”
Geralt snorted, “Shit who knows anymore?”
“Well there was the boat?”
“Or the train?”
“Nah, too standard. What about the cabin?”
“Heh, no I think your o-”
“I don’t have tenure darling,” It was Jaskier’s turn to slap his hands over Geralt’s mouth, “The answer is a dilapidated structure my parents still try to call a cabin out in the foothills.”
Geralt laughed and pulled his hand away, “Okay, that can be the answer.”
“Is that it? Now we just say bye?” Jaskier looked between Geralt and the camera.
Geralt shrugged, “Yeah. You wanna say the thing?”
Jaskier wiggled with a little pride and excitement, “Don’t forget to like and subscribe! Bye Fuckers!”
They both waved for a couple seconds before Geralt got up and turned the camera off. He popped out the memory card and was going to immediately start loading it onto his computer but Jask hooked his finger through a belt loop as he walked past and tugged him back down. 
“I’m tired. Snuggle with me.” 
Geralt hummed, “We just snuggled that whole time.”
Jaskier heaved a dramatic sigh, “I know and this is exhausting. I don’t know how you talk to a camera all day.”
Geralt stretched to set the chip on top of his laptop before collapsing back on top of Jaskier who had stretched the length of the couch, “Are you making fun of me?” he teased. 
Jaskier cupped his face between his hands and pulled him up for a deep kiss, “Oh never.” 
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robininthelabyrinth · 4 years
Text
A Sick Thought - Part 3 - on ao3 or on tumblr pt 1, pt 2
Lan Wangji had long ago suspected that he had done some terribly wrong in a prior life, if only because something had to explain everything he’d suffered from the death of his mother to the destruction and rebuilding of his sect to the loss of Wei Wuxian and the terrible wrenching pain that accompanied it.
If before he suspected, now he was certain.
There was no other way to explain why else he would be tormented by the return of his beloved – as a feline.
He had difficulty even thinking about that, really, even though he’d gotten relatively used to dealing with the fact of it in real life. The thought just sounded so absurd in every possible way:
Wei Wuxian is back, but he’s a cat.
The Yiling Patriarch returned at last, meowing.
Purr, says Wei Ying.
(That last one tended to lead him to disturbing thoughts, and so he refrained.)
They were traveling together now, working together, Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian together. It was everything he’d ever dreamt of, except for the part that his wildest fantasies on the subject somehow failed to cover the possibility that Wei Wuxian would be small, four-legged, and insist on riding on Lan Wangji’s shoulder except for when he felt the distinct need to zoom around wildly and would pelt up and down the road at top speed, chattering cheerfully as he did.
Similarly, when Lan Wangji had imagined sharing a meal with him, he had perhaps anticipated Wei Wuixan’s eyes going big and round and pleading, the way he inhaled the smell of spices, the way he would reach out to grab – but he hadn’t anticipated that he would need to bat away Wei Wuxian’s little paw before he consumed anything with onion, garlic, or other alliums, which were bad for cats, and would instead be feeding him little bits of raw chicken with no salt. Sometimes, even often, he would succumb to Wei Wuxian’s pleading and rub on a tiny little bit of chili powder – spice was also bad for cats, no matter how they lusted for it, and so it was bad for Wei Wuxian no matter his pleading. 
He had imagined sharing a pillow with him, hearing his breathing, and they did, he did - and yet, they were literally sharing the pillow, Wei Wuxian’s entire body curled up into a perfect orb of cat right next to his cheek and sometimes waking him up with foul cat-breath, and instead of needing to watch for nightmares he was more concerned about dreams involving chasing (Wei Wuxian had pounced on his forehead ribbon more times than he could count). He could sooth him with his hand, as he’d hoped, but there was a lot less sighing and a lot more purring - a rumble like distant thunder, more vibration than sound - than he’d thought.
Also, he’d imagined their duets to include somewhat more flute-playing and less…yowling.
Yes, it was all…very, very different.
No matter. It wasn’t important that it didn’t match his dreams; what was important was that Wei Wuxian, his Wei Ying, was back.
That was what mattered.
“I really wish we could’ve gotten more information from Mo Xuanyu,” Wei Wuxian said, padding along at Lan Wangji’s side. He’d permitted Lan Wangji to replace the cheap red ribbon Mo Xuanyu had found for him with something a little more elegant, and Lan Wangji hadn’t been able to resist using one of his spare forehead ribbons (dyed red, of course, to match Wei Wuxian’s tastes); the obvious end result of this pleasurable subterfuge was that Lan Wangji was now having some difficulty looking straight at Wei Wuxian without blushing. 
It seemed an appropriate example of suffering the consequences of his own actions. 
“I know he doesn’t know anything about the ghost hand – or the legs, I guess, now that we’ve gotten them, and wasn’t that weird with the Nie sect? Poor Nie Huaisang looked even more torn up about it all than I would’ve expected, all dark circles under his eyes and pale skin, you’d think he’d be better at running a sect if it’s been a decade already – anyway, I’m distracting myself from the main point. The main point is, I can’t help but feel like this whole thing is connected to Mo Xuanyu somehow.”
“Agreed,” Lan Wangji said.
Poor Mo Xuanyu.
Lan Wangji had not in nearly a decade and a half regretted his decision never to willingly set foot in Jinlin Tower, but now that he had seen what work they had made of Mo Xuanyu, he regretted nothing more. He who took such pride in being where the chaos was had missed the chaos and wretchedness right under his very nose – for Mo Xuanyu was very wretched indeed.
Lan Wangji had resented Mo Xuanyu at first, always laying his hands on Wei Wuxian without the slightest bit of shame – not that there needed to be shame, given that Wei Wuxian was, well, a cat, and of the subgenre of felines that Jiang Cheng for some unspecified reason continued to crudely refer to as “cuddle-sluts” – and for how Wei Wuxian worried about him and cared for him. 
It did not help that Mo Xuanyu was so well known for being a cutsleeve. 
And then, one day, Mo Xuanyu had gotten Lan Wangji alone and told him with great emphasis that he was deeply devoted to his successful courtship of Wei Wuxian, offering his help in any possible respect, and also wistfully added that he wouldn’t mind it very much if Lan Wangji were willing to offer some suggestions on how to court Jiang Cheng, who was utterly oblivious to any hints.
After that, Lan Wangji remembered himself what shame was, and guilt, and felt it thoroughly – it was no excuse to say that being around Wei Wuxian roused his worst protective and possessive instincts, for it was his duty to overcome them. Be strict with yourself, the rules said, and as always he had failed to remember the rules when he needed them most.
The extent of his pettiness was only magnified when he thought about it all more closely. Mo Xuanyu was not merely someone to be pitied, was more than simply a victim who had suffered under the outrages of the Jin sect – the harassment, the abuse, the deliberate poisoning and destruction of his mind in order to reduce his credibility...That was all bad enough, and it pained Lan Wangji to no end to hear it. 
But more than abuse, more than madness, more than exile to a misbegotten place that somehow managed to beat out Jinlin Tower for sheer viciousness –
It was due to Mo Xuanyu that Wei Wuxian had returned.
He had been willing to give his very life, his body and soul, to bring him back.
And for that, Lan Wangji owed him everything.
Even when it meant –
“We should return to the Cloud Recesses to fetch him,” Lan Wangji said, and Wei Wuxian craned his head around – his tiny, tiny head that could easily fit into Lan Wangji’s palm, covered in a short layer of fur more comfortable than the softest silk – to look at him in curiosity. “I understand that it is a detour.”
“It is,” Wei Wuxian said. “You wouldn’t propose it for no reason, either. What are you afraid of? He’s in the Cloud Recesses, and with Jiang Cheng – surely he’s as safe as safe can be.”
“It is nearly the end of the month,” Lan Wangji said. “My brother will be returning home soon.”
“So?” Wei Wuxian asked, puzzled. And why should he not be puzzled? To even think…and yet. And yet, and yet, and yet. “Jiang Cheng will explain everything to him, won’t he?”
“My brother will be returning home,” Lan Wangji said again. “After a month and more abroad.”
Wei Wuxian looked at him silently, awaiting an explanation. His tail lashed gently against Lan Wangji’s leg.
“He was visiting his sworn brother,” Lan Wangji said. “Lianfeng-jun.”
“Jin Guangyao,” Wei Wuxian said, his tone heavy – he had understood. “Does your brother visit Jinlin Tower often?”
Lan Wangji nodded tightly.
“And has for many years, I expect? Since the end of the Sunshot Campaign.”
He nodded again.
“Surely you don’t believe that he knew what was happening to Mo Xuanyu?”
Lan Wangji hesitated. “I do not know how he could not have known,” he confessed. “I think to myself if I had only been there – if I had overcome my disdain for the Jin sect –”
“Don’t think like that,” Wei Wuxian said at once, a balm to Lan Wangji’s soul. “You couldn’t have known. The Jin sect is the most talented at deception and misdirection – they wouldn’t have let you see. Nor your brother, either - you would have seen only what they wished for you to see, and poisoned the well of your thoughts to discount anything you did see.”
“Perhaps,” Lan Wangji said, and felt more at peace. It was true that even his brother, with his token, could not so easily travel through the depths of Jinlin Tower freely, without an escort. “I do not think Brother knew.”
“I agree. Impossible.”
“And yet - his sworn brother...it is not unheard of for Lianfeng-zun to unexpectedly accompany my brother back to the Cloud Recesses, and I cannot bring myself to believe that he did not know. As a precaution, therefore…”
Wei Wuxian’s ears flicking back and forth. “I see your point. But still, I don’t think it makes sense for us to go to them – why not write to Jiang Cheng and have him bring Mo Xuanyu to meet us here, while we investigate the Chang clan?”
Lan Wangji nodded.
“I’d prefer that, anyway – I really can’t use regular cultivation without Mo Xuanyu around, just demonic cultivation. As we continue to hunt for the ghost pieces, it’ll be good to have both.”
Lan Wangji wondered a little at that. In their first life, hadn’t Wei Wuxian completely abandoned normal cultivation in favor of demonic cultivation?
If so, why the shift back now?
“Besides, I have an idea I want to try that involves him,” Wei Wuxian added casually, so casually that Lan Wangji merely nodded and did not question and did not know until it had already happened.
“Success!” Wei Wuxia hissed in delight, then frowned, poking at his teeth. “Well, mostly.”
“You turned yourself into a catboy,” Jiang Cheng said, his hand over his eyes. “Because of course you did. I hate you. Have I mentioned that I hate you? Becuase I hate you.”
“What’s a catboy?” Jin Ling asked. Apparently he had insisted on joining them, as had Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi – Lan Wangji would have instructed them to remain, but Jiang Cheng had yielded more or less immediately to their requests.
Typical.
“You don’t need to know,” Jiang Cheng said at once.
“How do you know?” Wei Wuxian asked. “Jiang Cheng! What are you doing going about knowing things about catboys? We’ve talked about this –”
“What? No we haven’t! We haven’t talked about anything! You spent the entire conversation that we had over catnip crying your eyes out about how tasty pheasants are!”
Lan Wangji had always surmised that there was more to the conversation than that, being as both of them had emerged significantly less likely to murder the other, but he didn’t have any presence of mind to devote to that line of thought.
Or to any thought.
Not when Wei Wuxian was…well, mostly human.
He had his old face, but a build that more closely resembled Mo Xuanyu’s slenderness and height; his hair was the correct shade, but poking out from the strands were two now-familiar ears that flickered back and forth with excitement. And he was also possessed on inhumanly sharp canines, sharp claws, and what appeared to be a very active tail.
All the features attributed to…well.
Catboys.
(Lan Wangji had also seen the specific genre of pornography being referenced and every single one of those images – including his particular favorite, which involved a collar – was refreshing itself in his mind with a new figure in each starring role.
He was going to spontaneously combust.)
He stammered some excuse and fled the scene at once.
By the time he returned, they had more or less packed up to continue following the guidance of the ghost hand – it almost reminded him a proper night-hunt, actually. The adults, such as they were, led the way, with the juniors following behind, chatting amongst themselves; Mo Xuanyu was hanging off of Jiang Cheng’s arm and chattering at Wei Wuxian like old friends, his eyes curved up in crescents, with much of the terrible pain that he had always carried sloughed off like an old skin, while Jiang Cheng nodded along, oblivious to any hint as always.
Lan Wangji was abruptly struck by a feeling of – satisfaction, he thought.
This was good.
(Don’t look at Wei Wuxian or you’ll start slowing down the trip.)
But how could he resist?
He headed over and took his place at Wei Wuxian’s side, receiving a wide smile – he would die a thousand times over for that smile – for his troubles.
“What do you think, Lan Zhan?” Wei Wuxian asked him, and then barreled right on with the conversation without bothering to wait for a response.
Yes.
This was good.
This was how it should be.
Even Jiang Cheng, who Lan Wangji had despised for years…he made Wei Wuxian happy. And since that was the case, Lan Wangji would be willing to put up with him – on a temporary basis, anyway.
“What is this place, anyway?” Lan Sizhui asked from behind them.
“It’s called Yi City, with the Yi as in ‘coffin’,” Wei Wuxian said casually. “Didn’t you see the marker outside?”
“A better question,” Jiang Cheng said. “If it’s supposed to be a city, why isn’t there anyone here?”
“There is, though,” Lan Jingyi said, pointing. “Look, over there – huh, no. I must have seen the wrong thing.”
“No,” Mo Xuanyu said, and him actually disagreeing with someone when it wasn’t in the middle of one of his fits   was so unusual – even after he’d had so much healing – that they all turn to look at him.
He was smiling.
“You’re right,” he said, clapping his hands together happily, his eyes fixed on the distant spot. “There is someone there! I can see them!”
He raised a hand and waved.
“Xue-gege!” he shouted. “Xue-gege, it’s A-Yu! Come out and meet my friends!”
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is this happiness?
pairing: levi ackerman x reader
tw: emotional manipulation, mention of sex and alcohol, borderline fucked up
genre: kinda angst?, non-canonverse, out of character/exaggerated Levi
prompt: Levi gets off and craves manipulating and breaking women, and it’s finally your turn to go.
word count: 1,271
MASTERLIST
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Pain. He enjoyed inflicting it, specifically on women, emotionally, of course, Levi would never get physical with someone of the opposite sex. Though with men, it was another story, he adored to poke and prod at the most macho men in the bars he frequented, he coveted the satisfaction of thoroughly beating their asses. The man relished his little games; Levi’d pretend to be wholly in love and then tear himself away harshly once his prey had fallen into his trap. He savoured how he could see their hearts break when he said it was over, the quiver of their lips, the furrow of their temples, the way the fear and confusion cemented itself on their features. Levi didn’t quite know when or why he’d become this sadistic freak, but he was having fun, so he continued. 
You were girl number 14? 15? He’d lost count at this point. The two of you had been going steady for a few months, and he had taken a liking to your cheeky little smile and those glimmering eyes. Those were his only reasons for staying with you, that and the sex. God you were a fucking animal, the way you gave him that dark, mysterious, lustful look as you went down on him. The raven-haired would never admit it, but you were a goddamn sex goddess or demon for that matter. But, just like all his other playthings, it was time for you to part, after all, he had another lady to see right after this so no time to spare, he had to get on with his duties.
▬▬▬▬▬
Levi had done this so frequently he didn’t even need to rehearse what to say, all he required was a few shots, and he would be good to go. He had called you earlier in the evening, feigning a distant voice to prematurely instil fear in you, asking if he could come over in a few hours. In your most nonchalant tone, you gracefully accepted, Levi could tell you were pretending. When the hour finally came, he unlocked the door of your flat with your spare key that you’d given him and walked into the dining room. You sat on a stool by the island of your kitchen, swirling a glass of red wine in your hand, the mulberry-coloured fluid coating the sides of the glass. When you overheard the door closing, you psychologically prepared for the imminent doom, you knew things would go astray at some point, they always did.
The man sat across from you, greeting you with a chaste peck to your smooth cheek, you looked at him, forbidding yourself from showing even a shred of emotion. He had that damn smirk on his face, it wasn’t a big one, so discreet it was like a deadly weapon. Levi had this magnetic stoic yet charming personality that enthralled all around him. You tried to soothe your hammering heart, telling yourself it was nothing, and that maybe, just maybe, you were overreacting. Could this really be happening? After all these months, were they meaningless to him? All those restless nights where you entrusted him with your most nebulous secrets? Those late mornings when you awoke deliciously weak from all the ferocious love-making, all those stupid fucking walks at dawn. You were happy, and you assumed he was too, so why? Why now, when you finally were at peace with the world, why-
Your sombre thoughts were interrupted by him calling out your name.
“Listen, we need to talk, I’ve been thinking these past few weeks, quite a lot actually, and I’ve realised something,”, your watchful eye caught his, egging him to go on, he paused before resuming, “I’m bored, bored of you, bored of this life, I want out”. Your eyes widened, and you could have vowed you felt a blow in your heart, and just as soon as it had appeared, you recovered your calm. No, he would not be allowed to see you in pain, you would never give him the satisfaction. You left him continue his rant, “It’s just not fun anymore, it’s not the same, you’re always whining like a damn crybaby about something,”, this time you felt the stab in your chest. “You need to grow up and be an adult, always getting upset over the most childish things, just like the brat you are. I’m through with coddling you.” he tsked. There was no way this was the man you’d fallen for, the one who beamed softly when you’d make him his favourite tea, who whispered sweet nothings into your ear to help you sleep, who’d seen every inch of your body and proclaimed that ‘no Renaissance artist could ever replicate such fine art’. There was just no way. 
Levi continued his tyrant, each word slashing at your very being, shredding you apart like a pack of wild beasts. You feverishly fought the tears that threatened to seep out of your sunken orbs and flood the whole fucking flat. To hell with it, to hell with all of this bullshit, you’d wasted months on this fucking waste of a man, and yet your heart still pined for him, longed for him, fought for him.
“And you want to know something else? I never seriously loved you, I did all of this, for one thing, sex. It’s all you’re good for. This is who I am, and you’re going to suffer through this betrayal of mine.”, the final blow, the fragile mirror of your heart exploded into a thousand tiny fragments.
The worst part was that he said all of this with an oh-so-innocent smirk on his perfectly angular face. Levi was feeding off the grief he’d caused you, he cherished the power he’d acquired, his mercilessness and true nature were finally coming to the surface. So why didn’t the man get that rush when he saw your soul leave your body or when he saw your pupils dilate or when those gorgeous doe eyes became glossy with tears. The raven-head had gotten the reaction he craved for, so why was it different this time? What was that slight pang in his heart when he saw how he’d obliterated your mental state? He craved it night and day, the power-drive he got off on when women begged for him to stay or did the opposite and slapped him, and he couldn’t seem to understand why he felt different about your reaction. Nevertheless, it was too late, Levi had well over crossed the line, and now he awaited your response, never letting his vicious smile leave his portrait.
You took a few seconds to recollect your shattered peace of mind, searching for the right words to say, “Are you finished now?”, you queried, and he simply nodded in response. “All right, well, it was good to see you, get home safely,” you smiled cheerfully, you were going to keep your word, he would not earn this pleasure. Levi stared at you with a mixture of awe and shock, nothing too mind-blowing but, different. He got up and just as he collected his things, he turned back to you, his expression beckoning you as if to say, ‘that’s all you’ve got to say?’. You read his emotions and simply nodded, never letting the smile falter, that was until the door closed. Then you finally released your turmoil. All the memories you cherished were gone with him, through that door, off to pump some random chick.Your body wracked with tears as you sobbed on the countertop, never again would you be deceived by a man, and you were sure of it.
▬▬▬▬▬
AN: hey guys, here’s my first fanfic on this blog, nothing special just short, twisted, emotional manipulation. have a good day :)
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Text
Eternal Love of Dream - Chapter Next 2
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(Image source: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/1829656087662319/)
The Bai household was bustling with activity today. The former queen of Quingqui and the future queen  of Sky Kingdom, Bai Xian was visiting after a long time. Her son Ah-li was with her too. He had always been quite close to his Fengjiu Jiejie. Knowing that Fengjiu was in coma had had both Xian and Ah-li worried. So they had come to check on her.
Bai Xian and Dijun exchanged pleasantries. Dijun introduced Gungun. After the initial shock and surprise, Bai Xian and Gungun took an instant liking to this little silver haired boy.
Bai Xian checked on the sleeping Fengjiu and then excused herself. She went on to look for her mother.
Ah-li and Gungun took a seat at the window, watching the birds outside and started chatting. Dijun busied himself with preparing medicine for his wife. He could hear the little boys talk excitedly nearby.
“So, where have you lived all this while, Gungun? What’s your home like?”, asked the ever curious Ah-li.
“Mother and I lived in the mortal realm. Not in any one place though. Mother says I grow much slowly than mortal children so to avoid people talking and making more trouble, we move every few months or every couple years.”, Gungun explained. “We still do get into plenty of trouble anyways, but at least we have gotten better in the last couple years”, he added.
That just piqued A-li’s interest immensely and his eyes shone brightly. “Tell me all about it. I know when I went around with Fengjiu Jiejie we often got into trouble, but she always made an adventure out of it.”
Dijun was listening, he did get worried when Gungun said trouble, but on hearing Ah-li’s response, a tiny chuckle escaped him. Yes, that was true. His Xiaobai could turn a trouble into an adventure any time. That was one of the many things he admired about her. Curious to learn more, he diverted his attention back to the little boys by the window.
“Well, my earliest memory is of Mother fighting a bunch of roughs. Their leader wanted to hold Mother’s hand and take her away. He said he had never seen a beauty like her. Mother tried to reason with him to leave her alone, but when he didn’t listen, she kicked him. So they all came to fight with her.
Out of nowhere Mother took out a knife, made it into a sword and fought them all by herself. But the leader guy was sly. He picked me up and started threatening her. She was furious. She did something with her hand, a bright red light shot up and the guy holding me went flying backwards, while Mother caught me. That scared them all and they ran away shouting. But all that fighting had injured Mother too. She was bleeding all over and was also spitting blood. I was very scared. But Mother is brave. She smiled at me, told me not to worry, collected just a few things from home and took me away.” Gungun’s face showed all kinds emotions as he spoke. But most of all, you could feel the pride the little boy felt for his Mother. She was his hero.
Listening to all this perturbed Dijun’s heart. He should have been there for her. She had been all alone while he was still alive. He had promised her, over and over, that he would never leave her alone. That he would always be with her. He had failed miserably to keep that promise. No wonder she had not believed him and walked away, when he had said no one was more important to him than her. After what she had gone through, after what he had inadvertently put her through, how could she ever believe him? Why should she believe him? His heart broke at the thought. The ring on Xiaobai’s finger glowed again.
Ah-li’s eyes had grown as big as saucers. “Wow, what an amazing story! I am so proud of Fengjiu Jiejie. Tell me more.”, Ah-li said leaning closer.
“More? Well there are so many stories like this. A few months later, Mother had started covering up the Phoenix feather on her forehead with something she called cosmetics. She had also started dying my hair black so we could both look more like mortals. At that time she ran a small tea stall in a different town. One day it started raining heavily and before we could wrap up our stall and go home, we were both drenched. Her cosmetics had washed away and the Phoenix feather on her forehead glowed. I thought it looked so pretty, but there was a mortal nearby who saw and told everyone she was a demon. People gathered around us and wanted to throw all kinds of things at us. The bad guy jeered at us, he told everyone to capture Mother and hand her over to him. Mother did something clever this time. She did some magic to make the black snake come out of his sleeve. And then she told everyone that the guy himself was a bad wizard and he kept black snakes as pets. That scared everyone long enough and we ran away.”, Gungun recalled.
“You ran away to where? What did you do after running away? Did the bad guy chase you? Tell me, tell me, tell me....”,  Ah-li begged to know more.
“He tried to chase us, but we were too fast for him. Mother flew us away to nearby forest and we took shelter in a cave that time. Her magic had hurt her though. She was spitting blood for so many days after that. She said it was because of backfire from her magic. Immortals were not allowed to use magic in mortal realm, so it was like a punishment. ”
“We began living in that cave. We did not have any quilts etc in there, but Mother made us beds with some grass and we kept fire running at the door all the time. Mother said it kept the wild animals away. She worked hard there too. She would take me on her back and go gathering fruits and hunting during the day. At night she would feed me first and eat only if something was left over. She used to get fever at night for several nights - may be because of the back fire or the cold in that cave. But at least we were safe from bad guys for the time being. In spite of all this, she always kept smiling and told me I was enough for her to be happy. I tried to help as best as I could. Slowly things got better as Mother recovered. We lived in that cave for several months, all the way till winter was almost starting.”
“That’s an amazing story! I wish I could have been there with you both. I would have also helped and would have also enjoyed the adventures.”, Ah-li sighed.
Chonglin came in at that very moment. He bowed to Dijun and the little ‘your majesties’. He had brought dinner for Dijun and a message for the boys. “Your grandma said you both need to come with me. I will help you wash up for dinner.”, he said.
Gungun looked at Dijun as if asking for permission silently. He didn’t really know Chonglin yet. Dijun smiled and nodded a yes. All of them left to go eat.
Dijun was alone with his wife. He left the food alone for the time being and gave her her medicine. He lovingly wiped her face and adjusted the quilt on her. He bent down and planted a soft kiss on the Phoenix feather on her forehead. Dijun sighed. Xiaobai did not stir.
He sat next to her bed as he started eating. His thoughts drifted again. He had wondered why she had stubbornly stayed away from him for almost 200 years. Even if she was mad at him, she could not have stayed mad at him for that long. She would have at least tried to meet him once. She would not have made a deliberate attempt to avoid him like that.
Her actions were becoming more and more clear now. When he did not show up for their wedding and also didn’t show up for over a couple months after that, she was forced to believe that he had given up on them. She must have believed that he had chosen Ji Feng and left her. She must have realized she was pregnant at that time. So to avoid complicating things, she had taken herself away. She had stayed away to protect his son and also to protect him.
It had been a huge mistake to hide things from her. It had been his mistake. It had been his love. She had paid the hefty price for it.
And yet, she had come. In spite of everything. When she had heard Dijun’s side of story from Chonglin and found out about his battle with Miao Luo, she had kept everything else aside and rushed to protect him.
He recalled how her delicate, fragile frame had burst in through the Star Light ward wielding her Pottery sword in front of the fearsome Miao Luo. Her graceful, agile movements had showed no trace of hesitation. She was determined to save him. Even if it meant sacrificing herself.
How could someone love him so much? How could she love him so much? Love was mysterious in many ways!
He realized that while he thought he was protecting her, she had suffered so much. For him.
And in the end it had been her who had protected him. It was the blood from her heart, the heart of the only red nine-tailed fox in the universe, that had cleansed the immense negative energy from Miao Luo. It was her blood that had destroyed Miao Luo forever, cleared up all the negative energy, broken the Star Light ward and saved him. Saved Bihai Cangling. Saved this universe from chaos.
Yes, he had underestimated her grossly. He had been captivated by her ethereal fragile beauty, her innocence. He had completely missed her strength, her perseverance and her power. Yes, she was powerful. In her own right. She had not need him as much as he had needed her, he thought wryly.
Yes, she was the only one for him.
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