#he learns to stop fanning the flames and live with it or just. lets it continue to burn.

[theeoriginals]

klaus or elijah (your choice) x former flame!reader 👀

all i want | elijah mikaelson

+ Ohhh I loved your cat and mouse one! Could you please make a calm housewife/mom of the friend group type of girl and Elijah falling for her in a kind of best friend to lovers situation? Idk I just think it would fit cause elijah’s very family oriented and I see him falling for a dear old time friend too? Idk so uhm yeah. Feel free to refuse ofc!

elijah mikaelson x vampire!reader (no y/n)

author's notes; combining these requests :) hope that's ok!!

warnings; vague references to past violence but nothing insane. exes to friends to lovers, just plotless fluff, with an extra side of fluff. yes elijah is extremely charming, yes he can't make eye contact with a pretty girl. duality of man.

It’s an unspoken thing, what lingers between them still. Unspoken in the sense that they don’t talk about it, but everyone else does. 

It always shocks people to learn that the oldest vampires on Earth are ridiculous, catty gossips. Elijah doesn’t know why it’s such a surprise. Living as long as they all have, you’ve got to keep things interesting, otherwise immortality becomes mind-numbing. He supposes that it just doesn’t measure up to their reputation for being ruthless animals, which isn’t unfounded. It’s just not the only thing they could be classified as. 

Ruthless monsters that defend each other to the death at the end of the day, no matter how many times they’ve stabbed each other in the backs, certainly. Childish gossips that like to start rumors and rewrite history when they get a little bored, definitely. The two identifiers can coexist, and very much do.

And this thing, this unspoken thing that is unspoken for a multitude of reasons but none more so than the simple fact that even as long as they’ve known each other it’s still fragile, and something could break it with ease, is only unspoken to Elijah. 

His brothers and sisters, however, like to do nothing but talk about it. 

“Well, she’s almost here,” Rebekah rolls her eyes, but it’s just for the fact that her older brother is going to be a lovesick idiot the entire time the girl is here, and it really takes away from Rebekah’s own quality time with her. “No wonder Elijah’s been bumbling around like a fool all day.” 

Klaus chuckles, and the two of them dutifully ignore the glare their brother sends them. “Do you think she sent him a letter to announce her arrival? Elijah always loves things like that,” 

Rebekah’s blue eyes light up. “Oh, yes! I wonder if she sprayed it with her perfume– us ladies used to do that with a suitor back in the day,” She fans a hand towards her face, closing her eyes at the small breeze it creates. “They don’t text or call, of course, it takes all of the personality out of it. And god knows Elijah’s all personality,” 

Klaus laughs again, and the two finally glance across the room to where Elijah’s leaning against a wall, glaring at them with his arms crossed over his chest. 

“I hate you both,” He says, earning another round of laughter from them. “And stop going through my things, Rebekah. Those letters are none of your business.” 

The blonde girl pushes her lips out in a pout. “But I get so bored, Elijah. You can’t be mad at me for entertaining myself,” 

“I fear he just hates fun, dear sister,” Klaus says, feigning a wistful tone. “He doesn’t approve of my methods of entertainment either.” 

“That’s because your methods of entertainment always end in a bloodbath,” Elijah says accusingly, earning a shrug from the hybrid. “You’re both immature. A thousand years old, still acting like children.” 

Their faces twist in offense in unison, and Elijah distantly thinks that even though they’re not even fully related, let alone the same age even in their vampiric years, they were twins put on this Earth to terrorize him and ensure that he never knew peace. 

Before they can begin their outcries of dramatized offense, and Elijah can continue to lightheartedly mock them, a voice comes from the hall, echoing fondly. 

“Must you two always tease your brother?” The smile is obvious in her voice as she walks into the room, and the three of them snap their gazes towards the woman in surprise. “He’s a delicate soul, you know. His poor heart can’t handle too many jokes,” 

Elijah recovers quickly, rolling his eyes, though he can’t (and won’t) stop the smile from growing on his face as she meets Rebekah for a hug. “Oh, wonderful. That’s just what they need. Encouragement.” 

She chuckles at his poorly-feigned exasperation, and the sound settles in his ears like a morning dove’s song. She releases Rebekah from the hug and leans down to where Klaus is stretched out in a chair with his feet kicked up on the table, pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

Glancing around at the vaulted ceilings of the compound, she sighs wistfully. “I can’t believe this place looks the same as when you bought it,” She shakes her head in slight disbelief. 

Klaus shrugs, crossing his arms over his chest. “When we first returned, there was some… cleaning up to do, but it’s maintained its shape wonderfully.” 

If she catches onto his double entendre, she doesn’t say anything, just nods in understanding. That’s something Elijah has always liked about her– she lets things go unsaid. She’s always had the ability to connect with him and his siblings in a way that most others can’t, and even when Elijah is at his worst, she’s been that olive branch that he can grab onto to bring him back to himself. Always so understanding and level. It’s a wonder that she still associates with any of them, given their penchant for chaos. 

Finally, she turns her attention onto him, and in its entirety he feels breathless. Even after decades of knowing one another, it’s never gotten easier to hide his ardor for her. He knows she can still read him as easily as she could thirty years ago, too.

“Elijah,” She says his name better than he’s ever heard it, with a tilt to her head and a fondness in her voice that makes him feel more alive than anything else he’s found in his centuries on this planet. 

She crosses the room to where he’s at, because he froze in his spot as soon as he heard her voice, and wraps her arms around him like she’s never been more relieved to see him. 

It’s another thing he’s always liked about her. She’s never stopped loving him. He knows that. Lives with it everyday. 

Regrets a lot of things, too. 

He says her name back as gently as he can, like she’ll break in his arms. He wonders if she thinks of all the times she has broken in his arms, and then he tells himself there’s no way she’s forgotten it, because he hasn’t. And that is something that is theirs and theirs alone. 

She pulls away and he misses her touch the moment she goes because it feels rarer and rarer with each day that passes. Every time she leaves, he fears it’s the last time he’ll see her. 

He doesn’t want to ruin her visit with these thoughts. Even though he knows she’d offer him endless comfort, he doesn’t want her to worry about him for a second. 

She turns to face them, clapping her hands together with a smile. “Well, then. What’s first on the agenda?” 

────── 

Something that comes with living as long as Elijah has is learning that some things about yourself you’ll just never be able to change. Such things like being a vampire in itself, having a firm hand when it comes to doing business with people. He’s been told he’s somewhat of a snake, and he’s well aware of his silver tongued ways, and it’s something he knows he can’t change, and hasn’t ever wanted to. 

One thing that has yet to fall under that category of acceptance is his jealousy. 

In his defense, he’s never jealous when he thinks he should be. He’s never been jealous of his siblings, spare for a few embarrassing months spent around the doppelgängers, but Elijah has never had to envy someone for something they had because if he wanted it that bad, he could just take it. 

But this. This he knows is jealousy, pure and unbridled, and nauseating, if he’s feeling that correctly. 

This is the jealousy that he’s seen destroy entire regimes. This is the jealousy that has driven his family to madness at times. 

And of course, she’s at the center of it all. Of course she is. There would be no other way he could feel this so strongly if she was not involved in it somehow. 

She’s the source of a lot of jealousy, he knows. He’s jealous of the carefree relationships his siblings get to have with her because they don’t have to be burdened with the feelings of the past that are most definitely still there. They don’t have to worry if they looked at her lips for too long, or if they held her a little too gentle to be considered entirely friendly. They don’t have to worry about saying the wrong thing, stepping past that line they so carefully drew in the sand for everyone’s sake. 

These are the consequences of his actions, he knows. It doesn’t make it any easier to deal with, though. It might make it worse. 

Watching his siblings drink freely as the band played on was nothing unfamiliar. Patrons had long since joined in on the fun, and he’s sure there’s a crowd outside looking in on the celebration of unknown origins. 

At the center of it all, she is there, standing on a table with a crowd of adoring admirers surrounding her as she swayed and moved to the music. He would swear there’s a light shining on her, just for her, projecting her shadow above everyone like some sort of angel. He thinks she has every right to be worshiped. 

And the reason he’s so maddeningly, bitingly jealous is because he is the reason that he’s not the one dancing with her. He can’t be the one to dance with her, and he can’t be the one that makes her laugh like she is because he’s the one that said they shouldn’t be together. He is the one who broke her heart, and he doesn’t deserve an ounce of the kindness she still shows. 

So all he can do is sip his drink at the bar and watch as she pulls his sister, sweet, dangerous, devastatingly insecure Rebekah, up onto the table with her and shares her spotlight with her. Making his sister light up like she does with no one else. Earning another round of cheers from Klaus and Kol as they watch on, demanding another round of drinks for everyone in an odd show of generosity. 

She brings out the best in his siblings. In him. 

It makes him burn bright inside. Boiling, hot to the touch. He knows then and there that there’s a reason he’s seen something as trivial as jealousy take down the most powerful of men. Love is such a dangerous thing to get involved in in the first place, but finding someone, finding the woman who makes you feel like you could conquer the world is something else entirely. It bypasses dangerous and heads straight into fatal. 

Because she makes you feel like you could conquer the whole world, but the second you lose her, it all means nothing. You’ll tear it all down if it means she won’t be there, too. 

And the worst part of it all is the only reason he feels like this is because he is the one that ruined it. Blamed his family, blamed his parents, blamed everything else but his own fears for the reason they couldn’t be together. The distance, the timing. Whatever he could grasp, he pulled it out of his pocket and gave it to her on a silver platter, served with a distant coldness he’d long since perfect, and never wanted to use on her in the first place. 

He had so much time under his belt, but he was such a child. So helpless it bordered on criminal, all because he fell in love and he didn’t know what to do with it. 

It’s embarrassing more than anything else. 

He hasn’t taken his eyes off of her since she started dancing. Hadn’t stopped listening since he heard her first laugh. Didn’t want to miss a single second, just in case. 

For the first time all night, he blinked and turned his head away from her and threw the rest of his drink back like it was water. 

He could allow himself a bit more wallowing. Just a bit. 

────── 

“Well, Rebekah’s safe in bed. I even got her in pajamas, believe it or not,” Her voice carries even in its whisper, and he looks up from his lap as she enters the small living space, hands clasped in front of her as she takes a seat in the chair beside him. “Original vampire or not, I doubt she’ll feel very good in the morning.” 

Elijah hummed, thinking of his dear sister and how even if she’d healed a thousand times over, she’d still find a way to complain. He adored it. 

“What about you?” 

He raises a brow, lips twisting confusedly. “What about me?” 

She gestures towards his slightly slumped form on the couch pointedly. He follows her direction, looking at his rumpled suit, and the white button up he’d undone the top four buttons off, at least. He feels momentarily embarrassed at his state of disarray but he simply huffs out a laugh, lifting his gaze to meet hers again. 

“I’m a mess,” He shrugs, earning a quiet laugh out of her. “But I don’t think that has anything to do with our drinking tonight.” 

“I can’t disagree, unfortunately,” 

He hides the way his grin threatens to split his face behind his face, rubbing along his scruffy jawline as he looks at her. The longer he lingers, the more she avoids his gaze. 

“What?” 

He shakes his head. 

“Elijah,” She intones, such a familiar adoration in her voice that it nearly makes him sick. He doesn’t deserve it. “You’ve been so quiet tonight. What’s on your mind?” 

“You,” 

Her eyes widen in shock at his quick, candid answer, and he has to hide his own surprise at how quick the word had shot out of his mouth. 

“Me? What about me?” 

“Everything,” He sighs, shifting his long legs so he could turn towards her and give her his full attention. “I’ve missed you.” 

“Oh,” She breathes out, looking slightly bashful. “Well, I always miss you. I wouldn’t ever leave if I didn’t–” 

She stops herself, covering her mouth with her hand as a sheepish look crosses her face. He knows she wants him to move past her slip up, but he doesn’t. Can’t. 

“If you didn’t, what?” He leans forward, looking at her imploringly. “Why do you stay away so long?” 

She takes a moment to collect herself, picking at the skin around her nails half-heartedly, like it’s not really bothering her, she just doesn’t want to be so open right now. He’d feel worse about pushing her if he didn’t feel like his heart was leaping out of his throat. 

“Well, I didn’t think you wanted me around that much,” She says quietly, gesturing towards him. 

He rears back like she’s slapped him. 

“How could you ever think such a thing?” He whispers her name, a distant veil of horror laced in his tone. Fear, really. 

“You said,” She says, face furrowing in confusion. “All those years ago– you said that there was no reason for me to stay here with you in New Orleans. So, I– I left. And I travel all the time until I come back here for as long as you’ll let me.” 

Elijah feels something gripping his chest and it feels remarkably like his heart is breaking. 

His voice breaks on her name and he leans forward again, reaching into her space to grab her hands in his. Allowing himself this piece of her that he simply doesn’t deserve. 

“I never,” He stops, breathing out harshly. “I never wanted you to leave. I just–” 

He stops again, squeezes her hands, and then steels himself because this is the least he owes her. 

“You deserved more than to be stuck here with my family,” He starts slowly. “I never– I never wanted you to leave. Every time you walk out of those doors, I want to chase you down and make you stay. You have to believe me when I say that I only ever wanted you to be happy, and you wouldn’t have found that stuck here in the mess we had made back then.” 

There’s a poignant silence that settles as she processes his words, and he holds the ragged breath that builds in his chest when she begins to drag her thumbs along the backs of his hands, smoothing at the skin there. Ever so gentle. 

“All I’ve ever wanted was to be here with you and your family,” She says, shaking her head like she’s scolding him, even though her tone is anything but. “Being here makes me happier than any place I’ve traveled to. And I’m– I’m truly grateful that you had my best interest in mind, Elijah, but you have to understand,” 

She trails off and an incredulous laugh leaves her lips as she smiles at him. “I’ve loved you my entire life. And my heart used to break every day knowing that I’d only have a short time with you. When I turned, I was so– I was so happy because I suddenly had the rest of time to be with you. And you… you broke my heart, Elijah. You truly did,” 

She presses her thumbs into his skin firmly, just a pressure point to punctuate her words. “But I have never stopped loving you. And every time I walked out of those doors and left you behind, my heart broke again. You wouldn’t have ever had to make me stay. That’s all I’ve ever wanted to do.” 

Elijah’s breath stalls in his chest, and lets it out slowly, shakily. There’s a distant string of hope he lets himself pull on, just this once. Because she let him. 

He meets her gaze and smiles softly, just for her. “Will you stay, then? I’m– I’m asking you, truly. Will you stay?” 

She nods before he even finishes speaking and laughs quietly, the sound just for him. “Of course I will, Elijah. I’ll stay as long as you want me to,” 

“Forever,” 

“Forever, then. I’ll stay forever.” 

[iheartgod175]

Bugs Bunny — Warmonger

His very name strikes fear into the hearts of the most hardened warrior. Crimson and gold tear through all in his path, unmatched in its strength, and unrelenting in its power and fury. Celestial Warrior, Warmonger, descends upon the battlefield.

Bugs Bunny was a household name that was revered amongst comedians in Acmeville, and beloved by many. And one wouldn’t be blamed for being awestruck by him—his easygoing trickster nature would draw one to him like bees, something his greatest rivals would begrudgingly admit. Get to know him personally, and he’s the best friend one could have. Draw his ire, and no force in nature will stop him from getting his revenge, however creative and absurd it may be.

Yes, Bugs Bunny was a household name. Keyword was.

The world’s most famous star was caught up in a freak explosion in Acmeville’s business district, of which his co-star, Daffy Duck, was the only survivor. Theories ran rampant and multiple searches were conducted, but all came back negative, and everyone in the world came to accept the worst as pure fact. The world mourned the death of Bugs Bunny while simultaneously blaming Daffy for the buck’s death, accusing him of foul play. And while justice is still being pursued, the world moved on as more chaotic incidents forced them to turn their attention elsewhere. Still, some of his most rabid fans believe that he was still alive, and that no mere explosion could kill him. They believe that he’s laying in low and pursuing the person who tried to kill him, as Bugs wasn’t one who would let an attempt on his life go unchallenged.

As Droop-a-Long Coyote would learn, those rabid fans had a few things right, and they got a few things wrong.

Bugs Bunny did, in fact, die that day—but the reasons for his death weren’t as cut and dry as people believed.

Bugs Bunny was, in fact, alive, having come back from death as a pure Celestial warrior. Revived by arcane arts that are beyond human comprehension, it resulted in one of the most powerful Celestials known to mankind, with an Imperium Crystal that craves blood. Though already feared for his creative methods of retaliation, his masterful use of one of the few complete relics in the world—Dáinsleif, which was sought by many—and his Astral Skill, Flare Stealer, makes him a menace. While Dáinsleif draws its power from the blood of the innocent, his Astral Skill gives him the ability to steal Imperium Mana directly from an Imperium Crystal, effectively draining their heart. This essentially makes him a vampire, for he needs the Imperium Crystals of the innocents to keep him alive.

And yes, he was pursuing the person who killed him…but his path to justice meant leaving a trail of blood in his wake, something that he never would have done in his earthly body.

Droop-a-Long Coyote would meet his childhood hero in the worst way possible, learning that the “Bugs Bunny” he grew up with now only existed in the past. The Bugs Bunny he grew up with never had a soulless look in his eyes. The Bugs Bunny he grew up with never wore such armor. The Bugs Bunny he grew up with never wielded a sword so magnificently terrifying it froze him in place. The Bugs Bunny he knew could give his adversaries a thrashing—but “thrashing” seemed too gentle of a word to describe what the buck did to Avenger I, to Titan, and even Reaper.

That became the least of his concerns as the being formerly known as Bugs Bunny turned upon him, arcane flames dancing across his shoulder to heal the hit that Droop-a-Long had, by dumb luck, inflicted on him. Emerald green eyes, once soulless, were now alive and gleaming with intense rage. If speaking alone could kill someone, he would’ve dropped the moment he heard the phrase that lent to his new name, the phrase that signaled a terrible end for the one who wronged him—

“Of course you realize, this means war.”

—

I LIVE AGAIN!

Now, don’t worry, I will do a proper profile for Warmonger when I get the chance. I just don’t have the time because I’m gonna head into work in a few, and the length of this profile is gonna be the same as the Second Styles for both Super Why and Princess Presto (in other words, a freakin’ essay), so I’ll have to put it off until this weekend!

But anyway—LOOK AT HIM. LOOK AT HOW BADASS HE IS. I was going for the “edgy anti villain” angle for Bugs, and it came out perfectly. I was trying to avoid doing black and red, but since Huck had black, lavender and purple and Ric has black, orange and amber/brown, I figured it’d make sense ^^ Plus the color scheme suits him really well!

Make no mistake, Bugs is one of the most broken characters in the cast—with a name like Warmonger, would you expect anything less?—and is able to wipe the floor with Huck, Yogi and Ricochet easily. But there’s a reason behind it, though, a reason that will be revealed in the upcoming profile!

I was half tempted to start numbering this like I did with the Einherjar Files and the Attero Dominatus Files, but I wanted to get Huck, Ricochet and Yogi done before I start in on this profile. And yes, I started out of order. BUT I DON’T CARE. Lol. XD

That’s all I’ll have to say for the time being, but I hope you love this piece as much as I loved working on it!

Big thanks to user @zero06iranosaurusrex for their awesome takes on Bugs, which inspired this!

[sabo-has-my-heart]

Oh my goddddd! The Valentine fic is so cuteee! Thank you so much! I read it right the second it came out and I absolutely love it!!

How are you today? If you are still taking requests, may I ask for another fic?

Ace is a noble that turns into a thief at night (Kinda lile Robin hood) and people don't know the real identity of Thief Ace. Fem!Reader is also a noble that does not get along with noble Ace, but she is a fan of thief Ace (having a huge crush on him). Ace likes her back and is over the moon once he learns that reader like Thief Ace, but also very sad and doesn't know how reader will react when she learns about his real identity. Happy ending, please. It can be either fluff or nsfw or both :^) I just really love the romance in yohr writing.

Feel free to skip this if you are not comfortable. Have a great day!!

Damn it, you always know how to make me write something and need to put it into 2 parts! I kid, I kid, I love it, I really, truly do. They're such great ideas. Thank you for always sending them in.

Part 2: Who I Really Am

Warnings: theft, insults

Word Count: 1300

     Running across the rooftops, Ace chuckled to himself. He’d just dropped a load of cash off at various homes and orphanages. Not enough to be noticed by the guards, lest they realize and take it away, but enough to help each family. While he couldn’t do this every night, he would do it as often as possible, anything to help the people out. Having gone out to the slums before, he’d seen the suffering of those who lived below the middle district. It was something he couldn’t turn a blind eye to, so instead, he’d turned to stealing from people. But it was fine, the people he stole from always had more than enough to spare. Noble families with way too much money, merchants who flaunted their wealth like arrogant pricks, but he never hit up anybody who couldn’t afford it. He wondered if it was ironic that he, himself, was a noble. A noble stealing from nobles, actually what he did wasn’t that different from the things he’d seen other noble families do, he was just more honest about it. 

     Crawling into his bedroom window, Ace let out a soft sigh as he took off his ‘thief disguise’. A pair of beat up old, black shorts, clunky, cheap, black boots, a long black coat with red flames, a white scarf that he often pulled over his face, and an orange hat. Thief Alias: Spade, wanted all across the kingdom, dead or alive. His ‘daytime persona’? Portgas D. Ace. Adopted grandson of Marquess Monkey D. Garp, adopted brother of Sabo and Luffy. He’d been adopted after his father, a duke from another country and that country’s greatest hero, had died, asking his longtime friend and fellow ‘hero’ to take care of his son. 

     “So, who did you steal from this time?” a voice asked, startling the boy as he spun around. Stepping out from the shadows cast by his wardrobe was his blond haired brother, arms crossed and smirking.

     “Oh, Sabo. Fuck, you gotta stop doing that. Damn near gave me a heart attack. Nobody special, well, I mean, as a noble, they think they’re special, but nobody we ever care about.” Ace said, hiding his outfit in a secret drawer under his wardrobe. 

     “Great, but we have a party tomorrow, remember? This cuts into your sleep and I’m not covering for you again.” Sabo scolded. He didn’t mind Ace going out, what he minded was constantly being responsible for his brother. Despite being the ‘responsible brother’, he’d rather be stealing from nobles like Ace did. Thinking about it for a moment, Ace’s eyes lit up.

     “It’s Y/n’s party! She’s finally 18 so her parents are throwing her a coming of age ball!” Ace said excitedly. He’d had a crush on you for ages despite how often you turned him away, this party was his chance to impress both you and your parents. No one really knew why, but your parents had decided to wait a year on your coming-of-age ball, but he didn’t mind so long as he had a shot at you. If he could impress you, you’d let him court you, if he could impress your parents, they wouldn’t interfere.

     Smoothing out your dress, you took a deep breath. It was a fairly simple dress, but then, despite the kind of party, you’d wanted it to be. You wanted something that would make you look gorgeous, but not like all the other noble girls who always wore ostentatious dresses. Spade would never go for a girl like them, they were too stuck up and interested in their wealth, he’d probably be more interested in someone more low-key. Admittedly, it was still a dress befitting someone of your rank, but for a young noblewoman, it was rather ‘plain and uninteresting’. No large petticoats, no gemstones adorning the netting or waist, and no puffy sleeves. Sleek, simple, but gorgeous. You’d stand out from all the girls wearing large ball gowns while still looking stunning. Even your jewelry was simple. No large, complex necklaces, no giant earrings, and no stupid coming-of-age tiaras. Simple and elegant. Enough to catch Spade’s eye while not making him roll his eyes. Did you think he would stop by? No, not with so many people here, but maybe he’d peek in to see what was going on. 

     Standing in the crowded room, Ace eagerly awaited your entrance, his head perking up when he heard them announcing your presence. You looked more stunning than ever. Like elegance personified. Part of him had expected a poofy dress that wouldn’t look good on you with pounds of jewelry and make up to make you look as ‘beautiful as possible’ but would only serve to hide your true beauty. This… this made his heart stop. An elegant, streamline dress with simple gloves, a simple necklace with only a few stones, small, elegant, silver earrings, and dainty, yet ‘understated’ heels. Your hair was pulled up into a half ponytail and slightly curled, framing your face perfectly, and your make-up was surprisingly minimal. He couldn’t do this. You were too beautiful, too stunning, there was no way he could ask an absolute goddess like you to dance, to even approach you! Even still, he couldn’t let another guy have you. Swallowing hard, he wiped his hands on his suit and nervously walked up to you. 

     “C-care to dance?” Ace asked, hoping you didn’t notice the way his words were stuttered and broken up. 

     Staring at his hand, you sighed. Portgas D. Ace, another noble boy. While you weren’t particularly fond of most noblemen, you had a particular dislike of this one. Always bothering you, inviting himself to your tea time and helping himself to your snacks, coming and talking to you every time he saw you, even if it was clear you didn’t want to talk to him, and always, always, showing off! Still, it would be rude not to accept and his family was one you’d rather not spurn. Gently placing your hand in his, you let him lead you to the dance floor, the boy grinning like the idiot he was. Thinking for a moment, you grinned, you had just the thing to drive him off!

     “So, Ace, have you heard about the latest sighting of Spade?” you asked, watching a strange expression flash across his face for a split second.

     “Eh, only vaguely, I hear he’s causing more trouble for the other noble families.” he said with a small shrug as if he wasn’t interested.

     “Well, I mean, that is what he does, but I mean have you actually heard about him?” you pushed, watching as he shook his head no.

     “Nah, he’s not important enough to keep tabs on.” Ace lied. Okay, he knew exactly what ‘Spade’ was up to, but he had to play the part of an uncaring, stuffy noble.

     “Not important enough? Are you serious? Not only is he stealing from people like you and I but he’s the hottest topic in all of the social circles and my personal favorite.” you said, huffing slightly. It figured Ace wouldn’t like Spade, Spade probably stole all of Ace’s spotlight. Ace swore his heart entered his throat and stopped! You were a fan of Spade’s? You were his fan?!

     “A-are you sure?” Ace managed to force out, his voice wavering. It couldn’t be, the woman of his dreams was a fan of his? You liked what he did? You… would it be alright to say that you had a crush on him?!

     “Of course I’m sure! Spade is the most amazing guy in the kingdom and nothing anybody says can convince me otherwise!” you snapped slightly. You were serious, you weren’t putting on a show to drive him away, you actually liked Spade. Ace’s heart pounded now more than ever.

[secondclassfangirl]

the touch of a hand lit the fuse

(A lil ficlet I wrote for Silverusso Day. Also on AO3.)

Daniel would be lying if he said he didn’t know what he was doing.

Though in truth, he hadn’t really known—not at first. Not back then. Back then, he hadn’t quite understood the depth of his feelings—what he felt whenever those cold eyes pierced him. What part of him knew, even subconsciously, that he wanted from the very start, and would soon become determined to get. No matter the cost.

As a kid, Daniel never quite felt in control of his own life. From shitty apartments spanning East Coast to West, his father being ripped away far too young, and his mother’s inescapable cycle of working her ass off just to live paycheck to paycheck, Daniel internalized at an early age that the world wasn’t kind to people like him. If you want something, you have to pull teeth to get it—and sometimes that isn’t even enough.

But this—damn it, he’s going to get this. Even if it destroys him.

Daniel knew from that first glance in the garden all those years ago that he wanted Terry, even if he wasn’t exactly sure how. At first it was idolization, almost: Terry was everything Daniel wasn’t. Pale eyes. Perfect body. Not to mention that quiet confidence he possessed, that effortless ability to capture the attention of everyone in the room without lifting a finger. Daniel wanted that—craved it.

But as time crawled by, and the feeling never ceased, Daniel learned that his fixation was so much more than sheer jealousy.

He wanted Terry—on a level deeper and with more ferocity than anything he’d ever felt. Beneath that smooth, perceptive gaze, Daniel felt seen for perhaps the first time in his life. He felt…alive. Every clandestine brush of their fingers, every lingering, wanton gaze, fanned a flame deep within him, lighting up parts of himself that Daniel didn’t even know existed.  

Back then, he didn’t have the capacity to understand that fire. But now—now, he does. And he’s the one with the gasoline.

Even after the betrayal, and the heart sinking realization that he’d been nothing more than a piece in some sick game of chess orchestrated by Cobra Kai, Daniel’s obsession lingered. He knew by the heat in Terry’s eyes, a mirror of his own desire, that he meant so much more than he let on; that even though they met under false pretenses, the connection forged between them was unbreakable. Daniel wanted him, and like it or not, Terry wanted him just the same.

So when Terry waltzes back into his life, so many years later, there’s no question of what to do next. Terry may have used him as a pawn once, but in this rematch, Daniel’s going to make damn sure he sees him as a queen.

It’s simple, really. Daniel’s always had a way of charming people. Captivating them. Casanova, his ma would tease, but it’s deeper than that. Daniel knows how to flirt, but even better, he knows how to get under people’s skin. He knows how to make them feel. Especially Terry.

Daniel did it back then, even if he was unconscious of it—Terry wouldn’t be so hung up on him now if he hadn’t. He’d walked into their first meeting with no intentions other than securing revenge for Kreese, but by the end of it, there was real interest in his eyes. That much Daniel picked up on, even when he was too naïve to understand the rest.

Terry always looked at him like that: like Daniel’s every breath was the sole object of his attention, everything else be damned. For someone of Terry’s standing, Daniel got the feeling that was quite the accomplishment.

Hell, Terry still looks at him like that—and Daniel wonders if he ever stopped. If in passing the billboards, in seeing the commercials, he paused, transfixed, and remembered the way it felt back then when it was just the two of them in that dark dojo, tiptoeing just along the edge of that precarious cliff without ever quite taking the leap.

It never went beyond heated glances and fleeting touches—not then. But now…

Now, things are different. Daniel’s spent too long denying himself this indulgence, and he’s going to make sure he gets a taste.

So when Terry’s around, he lets himself be coy. Flirtatious, even. Not outright, by any means—their relationship always flourished in shadowed corners, not broad daylight. Every parting of his lips, every sidelong glance, is carefully planned, as are the heated remarks that spill from his mouth during each confrontation.

Terry did always like his temper—carved it out of him, after all. So Daniel’s more than willing to let his spitfire side take the reins.

And despite his impassive façade, Daniel knows by the haze in Terry’s eyes that he’s falling right into the trap. That old tension between them, so palpable it could be cut clean through with a knife, mounts beautifully, coming to a head at last in a clash of tongues and teeth, a flurry of wandering hands and panting breaths more devastating than Daniel ever could have imagined.

And as those lips press into his, seeking not just to taste, but to devour, Daniel doesn’t miss the smirk that graces them.

Like he knew what was coming all along.

[septembersghost]

Thinking about how proud E would be of Austin 🥺

i'm about to get emotional on you, but i've been considering this a lot myself, because i do believe he'd be so impressed and moved by and PROUD of austin, and what austin achieved, and the care, craft, and love that austin dedicated to him, for years. and then on another level, i have this feeling about the film, and how remarkable he might find it, and how it now stands as this piece of him and his legacy...i've been thinking about how he didn't think he'd be remembered, because he saw music as this ever-shifting landscape, which i understand from his perspective, he saw so much change and varying musical trends happen quickly in his lifetime, but it's alternatively wild and aching to me because *i* feel that music is so lasting and connective and incandescent. but that one dream he had, of making a classic film, something seen as truly artistic and lasting, never came to pass, and he felt a weight in that, in not leaving that behind. this film is the closest fulfillment that can be given to him in that. look at what it's done, beyond awards or reviews - the interest it's sparked, the deep love that's blossomed in it, from everyone involved in creating it to the audiences, the way so many people are walking out and not letting it go, learning about him, watching his movies, listening with such joy to his music. the life and the coming together that's shining from that. this film will forever be an indelible reflection *for* him, and i truly believe that would hold such meaning to him.

i saw this tweet the other day:

and it came from a teenager, and i have a special feeling of warmth for the younger people who've been impacted by this and have gone on these journeys discovering his story and voice, because that in itself PROVES the eternal existence and wonder and power that music and art has. across every divide, generations, that lives so brightly, and keeps waiting to be found anew, and they have! and you don't forget those influences, they'll carry this with them. we'll carry him and his flame with us.

and then i read an article from a fan who met him in life, once, and she concluded:

and i genuinely just cried. maybe the universe knew, somehow, that it was time for a reminder, but his spirit still touches people so deeply and that never has stopped. we can't help (falling in love) but remember. of course we do.

[nighttimeebony]

Ten Tododeku headcanons part 4.

31. Since Izu and Sho are both massive nerds and love fan theories and shit like that, they'll often bond over that--sharing theories with each other over the movies or TV shows that they watch together, debating each other over the plausibility of certain theories, challenging each other to see who can find all the easter eggs first, and going to war over plot holes and continuity

32. Izuku and Shoto UNDERSTAND each other above all else. They had very different lives growing up, but they were both hurt by people that they were supposed to be close with; Izuku with his best friend and Shoto with his father. Izuku was bullied from elementary school through middle school, and Shoto was a victim of abuse at the hands of his father since he was five. They both have trauma and pain that no one else in their class could possibly hope to understand, without all of the various shared trauma they have on top of it. They understand each other's pain and they EMPATHIZE with that. Izuku understands why Shoto jumps at sudden, loud noises. Shoto understands why Izuku flinches at unexpected touches. Izuku understands Shoto's distrust of new people. Izuku's probably the only person who can recognize when Shoto's teetering on the edge of a panic attack and knows how to pull him back down to earth.

33. I think that Izuku in particular has a fondness for Shoto's fire because Izuku's dad has a fire quirk, too. Shoto struggles with feelings of hatred towards his fire because it had only ever been used to hurt him. But to Izuku, Shoto's fire could never scare or intimidate him because it feels too much like home

34. Izuku's first hint that the feelings he had towards Shoto were not Platonic™ was (surprise surprise) during the Sports Festival. When Shoto used his flames for the first time and lit the stadium up, Izuku thought that Shoto was beautiful.

35. Shoto may be taller, but Izuku is stronger, and they may or may not take turns bragging about their respective strength. Shoto will put shit on the top shelf just so he can stretch over Izuku to get the thing for him. Izuku will watch Shoto struggle to move their furniture for a good three minutes before stepping in to hoist it over his head. Whether or not this irritates or arouses them varies from day to day

36. Both Izu and Sho go through arcs where they realize that their quirks are just that: theirs. They are more than what they inherited. Sho's is obvious--he realizes that his power is his own, not his father's, not even his mother's; it's HIS. For Izu, though, he learns that he isn't All Might, and One For All is his quirk now, not All Might's, so he needs to stop trying to be him. Izu showed Sho that his power was his own, all while Izu himself was trying to embrace a power that he'd also inherited and felt belonged to someone else. And I just think it's interesting that they're the only characters who have these kinds of arcs and situations.

37. Izuku and Shoto don't really do nicknames or pet names. At most, Izuku will shorten him to "Sho"

38. When Sho and Izu get married, Shoto changes his last name to Midoriya, partially to spite his father

39. Nightmares are kind of a Thing™ for them, especially for Shoto. When that happens, Izuku will gently shake him awake and let Sho hide his face in Izuku's chest while Izuku strokes his hair, rubs his back, and utters reassurance in his ear. Shoto is ashamed to admit that he ends up shaking and choking back tears on those nights more often than not. When Sho has nightmares, he never wants to talk about them, partially because he doesn't need to; Izuku almost always knows. However, when Izu has nightmares, talking about them will always make him feel better. When Izu wakes up in a cold sweat with images flashing behind his eyes, Sho holds his hand, cups the side of his face, and asks him what happened before reminding Izu that he's safe. Shoto makes it a point to kiss every single one of Izuku's freckles when this happens.

40. Shoto is a heavy sleeper and not a morning person in any sense of the word. Izuku, on the other hand (as literal sunshine incarnate) is a light sleeper and is very much a morning person. He's always the first one up and usually has to drag the covers off of Shoto to get him up while Shoto sulks and clutches a pillow to his face to ward off the sunlight. Though, because Izuku loves to torture his boyfriend, sometimes he'll blast k-pop over their Bluetooth speakers and obnoxiously sing the lyrics in Sho's ear until he gets up to turn the music off himself. The last time he froze them out of spite, Izuku huffed at him and teased him about it relentlessly for weeks until Shoto finally relented and got another set. So he doesn't freeze the speakers anymore.

[somethingpersonarelated]

The Phantom Thieves as K-pop Songs (an analysis): Shujin Trio + Morgana

LONG POST AHEAD! There will be more parts! I'm also going to give them kpop groups at some point but that will be later! Using CCL for translation. SPOILER WARNING NOW FOR ALL POSTS :) lets goo

Joker/Ren/Akira: MVSK by Kep1er

Hear me out. Every single time I read the lyrics for this song I wonder if the lyricist was a persona fan. Okay. To the quote:

Are you sure? Are you serious? Maybe you’re living in a different time Are you happy? What are you up to? I’ll invite you to the world I’ve imagined

From a stylistic and a musical perspective I think the connections are pretty obvious (shoutout to the Brave Girls cover, I think it also fantastically fits with the Joker persona). The House fusion in this song just oozes style that I think Joker perfectly displays. I think this first verse is a simple allusion to his role as the leader. Joker is a person that attracts people to him, through his nature as a wildcard and his subtle charisma (that's what I like to think of it as). Joker reaches out to a variety of people throughout his journey, giving them hope, and the common thread between all of his confidants is the conviction they have.

Don’t try so hard to push yourself Into that tiny crack in the door With all the senses in the world stopped It’s not fake, It’s real In the mask colored by the world Show me the real you Babe The Persona hiding in that mirror

Shh I won't insert shuake into this part i promise but if you choose to read it that way I encourage it!!! I have another song that I think also encapsulates Akira, but I think this covers early-game pretty well. In his interactions with the thieves he's there to catch and support them. Key example: Ann, as he supports her to embrace her real self and let herself open up which leads to her Persona's awakening. I also think this describes a theme in the game as well, but Akira is the representation of the game's themes, which is fitting.

Ryuji/Skull: NalinA by BlockB

Okay LISTEN TO IT. TELL ME I'M WRONG. Quote time:

I’m the starting point of all envy and threat from guys I’m a real-time popular searched keyword bro

These lyrics are a lot more straightforward to connect to Ryuji. A constant sticking point for him throughout all versions of Persona 5 is how he just for the life of him cannot shut up about being a Phantom Thief. It's a point of pride for him both that they are acting as the Phantom Thieves for the sake of justice but also that they're popular. Out of all the thieves, Ryuji is probably the most concerned with their popularity. Of course, he learns as a part of his character arc that this isn't the most important part, but he can't help it when they're mentioned in public to make a comment about it.

I bet you’re dying^ – follow me baby – Because everything about me is perfect (gugugaga gugugaga) Just look at me lady, don’t you wanna go crazy? Anywhere I go there are shouts Coming out from people’s mouths

He's also one of the most energetic (and I think one of the hearts) of the PTs. If there's one person you can expect to rally the PTs, it will be Ryuji. His iconic moment in Strikers where he finally gets to curse makes me think of this song. He knows that he's brash but he knows that is the most important trait he brings to the team.

From a musical standpoint, the song is unapologetically loud and taunting in its delivery. Just like him. It's a song I can imagine him listening to regularly, which was one of the most important criteria for making the list.

Ann/Panther: ANTIFRAGILE by LE SSERAFIM

While I feel like softer pop also fits Ann very well, if the dancing games are any indicator, this style also fits her. This song is a description of her ambitions through some interesting imagery:

Walk like a majestic lion Eyes glinting with so much desire Pour more out, gasoline on fire Fly again, rising through the flames

No, I just love the way this describes how she rose through the obstacles that the first arc of the story presented. How she chooses to be strong and to make that choice each day because her promises to Shiho and herself are stronger than one moment of weakness or doubt.

Don’t underestimate the path I’ve walked I go to ride till I die die

Adding this line to apply to those last couple sentences. I just think it's raw and it reminds me of her strong conviction during the first arc.

“Lovey lovey lovey dovey dovey dovey” Defining me however you’d like

Fervent attention, welcome Cute jealousy, go ahead Stringed puppets, no thanks With my song I’ll build my future Yes gimme that

The way these verses are delivered have been a point of contention for many in the kpop community, but in the context of this, we do not care. I think that if Ann sang this song, she would do it the same way and I would be proud of her. Ann has always had to fight against how other have perceived her, whether it was Kamoshida (fervent attention), Mika (cute jealousy), or the general public/classmates (stringed puppets). She wants her heart to grow stronger so she doesn't crack under the pressure, so she can always be there for those she loves.

Morgana: Very Nice by Seventeen

Okay I had to put this one in for the sillies: JK okay but in terms of vibes yes but there's not anything I can substantially analyze here.

The actual answer: Fighting BY BSS

While keeping a similar silly vibe in its genre, this has much more to analyze (not that much but let's pretend):

In the stories (Why do all my friends) Look so cool there (Why me me, only me) Why why why why am I still struggling, why? Why am I getting pushed around? (i-gu i-gu i-gu i-gu)

Morgana makes it clear that the main insecurity he struggles with is being unsure if he is a human. He also struggles to remember why he is with the Thieves in the first place. Not only does he physically feel smaller than the others, but because he feels that without his memories it feels that his goal is unclear, without ambition.

Stretch out my back, my arms and my legs Ooh I feel like I’m seventeen If I live with unhappiness That’s never worth a penny Then I’m just wasting my time, man

Honestly I think that this is just fun! The first line I picked to include just because he's a cat. At the end of the day, Morgana tries his best to be an optimist. Akira struggles without Morgana to assist him throughout the day, and the main theme of this song is learning to come to terms with a life that may be difficult to manage day to day. They're at their best when they can help each other, because Akira gives Morgana purpose.

I had way too much fun writing this, and I hope you got some music recs or fun out of reading this. Thanks! (and stay tuned)

[greenhappyseed]

BnHA Ch. 351 - Review, parallels & comparisons

The word of the day is “neutralize.” Meaning to render ineffective or harmless by applying an opposing force or effort. Because that’s how Shoto is “stopping” Dabi, and no, not just in terms of the heat.

Yes, Shoto has developed his own unique ultimate move that uses both his ice and fire to blunt Dabi’s blue flames by bringing down the temperature (somehow).

But more importantly, in this chapter, Shoto neutralizes both Dabi and Endeavor on the emotional front. The kid who didn’t understand friendship is now able to navigate the emotional flames of the most angry, volatile men in the story. Dabi not only raises his quirk heat faster than Endeavor, but can switch from story mode to instant kill mode in a second. Meanwhile, Endeavor stoked his jealous rage against All Might for ~25 years (yes, I will talk All Might and “madness” later on, just wait for it……).

As Dabi unleashes his max output, exceeding Endeavor’s fire but lacking Endeavor’s control, he also goes straight for the emotional kill shot. (A technique he no doubt learned from how heroes try to break a villain’s spirit.) Dabi calls Shoto “kindling,” asks if he likes All Might, taunts him about scaring civilians, and calls him boy, half-baked puppet, and boy (again!) born with everything who is incapable of making himself into anything.

Does Shoto fight fire with fire? Nope. He lets Dabi use him as a punching bag physically (Dabi even punched Shoto right in Shoto’s scar.) He AGREES with Dabi’s insults, calling himself half-baked and a dummy. FYI, the official translation in English uses “dummy,” which can also mean “puppet” and makes for a nice pun, but in Spanish Shoto calls himself a fool or a moron, which I think is closer to the original Japanese based on fan translations. Finally, Shoto THANKS Dabi for watching him. In the war, Dabi was glad Shoto was raised with love, and here, Shoto is turning it around, saying he’s glad Dabi was watching him.

Shoto validates everything Dabi is unleashing. His immense power and speed that exceeds the #1 hero. His rage. His jealousy. All of it is valid except for one part….

…and it’s Dabi taking out his rage on innocent civilians. In fact, Shoto stays calm and doesn’t start yelling until the line “You’re not taking any more innocent lives!” But even then, he doesn’t tell Dabi to stop using his quirk or stop being angry. Shoto’s final line of the chapter is truly a masterclass in both empathy and heroism, demanding that Dabi direct his rage at “us.” Putting the trained pro heroes in the line of fire and placing their lives on the line instead of the citizens. Focusing Dabi’s mixed messages of hating hero society and revenge on Endeavor into one point. Shoto is absolutely surpassing All Might with this move, and it’s because Shoto is a caring person who is creative with all of his abilities; not just his max quirk output. Shoto is looking at his brother and understanding that Toya IS part of the same world (aren’t we all?) and is raging over being shut out. Shoto gets that the RIGHT way to put out a fire begins with understanding.

Oh, and Shoto does the same for Enji too. Shoto had insisted, since the hospital scene, that he and his father needed to stop Dabi together. But Enji couldn’t do it. He ghosted Shoto for weeks…then Shoto confronted him angrily and days later they reaffirmed their “togetherness” after Ochako’s speech. At this point, Enji did commit to togetherness with his sons, so when placed on separate battle teams, Endeavor’s reaction was to say no, he’s sticking with Shoto. (And maybe Enji wants a reason to tell All Might to shove it?)

Ultimately though, Shoto makes the decision to face Toya alone. He gets his father to back down by validating his strength as #1, saying Endeavor is the only remaining hero that can take on AFO. In doing so, Shoto reaffirms that Enji will lead against AFO just as “Midoriya” will lead against Shigaraki. Shoto may not say “OFA,” but he’s putting his father’s power on equal footing with the strongest quirk around — All Might’s quirk — because that’s the language Enji understands. Shoto then demonstrates he “recognizes and appreciates himself” (I’m quoting All Might here), reassuring his dad he CAN stop Toya and he WANTS to.

Yep, Enji is FINALLY showing he’s torn between the role of father and hero, and it’s Shoto pushing him to choose hero because Shoto knows that’s what his dad is good at, and that’s what’s best for everyone. I see it as Shoto’s personal sacrifice for the greater good. I also think Shoto knows his father doesn’t have the skill set to help Toya. Bakugo knows it; All Might knows it; the public knows it. Endeavor is not a reassuring, rescue type of hero. He’s a ruthless power hero who wants to win with strength. He doesn’t have the compassion Toya needs if Toya’s going to come home alive.

I also wonder if Shoto is giving Enji a pass here because he wants Enji’s true atonement to be facing his family “together,” and that can’t happen if Enji and Toya fight to the death. Perhaps that’s why Shoto redefines “togetherness” to mean “working together as part of one larger plan,” not a literal side-by-side fight. Shoto is reassuring Enji (and himself) they are, in fact, fighting together and stopping Toya together, so their promises to each other will be fulfilled — even on separate battlefields.

Ok, NOW it’s time to talk about All Might, because he’s at the root of Endeavor’s jealousy. (Aside from my unending brain rot, I suspect we’ll talk about All Might a lot more as a central figure as we head into the final battles.)

This chapter begins with a description of Endeavor’s ultimate move, Flashfire Fist. And immediately thereafter, the omniscient narrator informs us that Flashfire Fist drove Endeavor to understand his limitations. It’s not spelled out here, because we should all know it by now: Endeavor’s ultimate move wasn’t enough to help him surpass All Might, and the resultant jealousy and heat produced a “haze” that warped his view of his sons, leaving him unable to see them clearly — and preventing them from seeing each other.

Toya internalized his father’s goal of surpassing All Might, and that meant watching and observing All Might’s every move (just like his father). For example, Toya watches All Might on TV with Fuyumi, even without Enji around. Toya knew that All Might’s success was driving his father to discard Toya and have more children. The double page spread from Ch.302 is devastating, showing All Might grinning in between Natsuo’s and Shoto’s birth — and Toya watching from the top of the page. Additionally, we know Rei would show Shoto videos of All Might (so Toya might have seen that) and Shoto would watch them alone too. Somewhere along the line, All Might won over young Shoto. He never watched All Might out of jealousy or to glean competitive intelligence, but because he found All Might reassuring. In this chapter, more than ever, Shoto is inspired by All Might’s style of heroism — selfless, reassuring, raging only on behalf of others. Using his flames, yes, but as part of a unique move only Shoto can do, because only he holds that power. Toya, on the other hand…..

Theoretically, Toya should hate All Might because Toya wanted to make Enji proud, and Enji would only be proud of his child surpassing All Might. Toya refused to let AFO train him because he wanted so badly to be with his father, learning to be better than All Might. When Toya couldn’t return to his childhood home, he watched Enji from afar and taught himself Enji’s moves. Can someone who spent his life imitating Endeavor appreciate what All Might stands for? Does Toya admire heroes of any kind? Or does he simply want his father’s validation above all else (as Rei asked him)

As an adult, Dabi started following Stain, who supports All Might and hero society generally, just with a very rigid purity test for who is a true hero. Stain placed All Might at the top, and deemed Kamino to be hero holy ground. Stain also judged Izuku and Shoto as potentially worthy of the title “hero” (which Dabi might know if he indeed he saw the Hosu fight as he said in Ch.349). For all he rails against hero society, it’s pretty easy to get Dabi off that topic and talking about his personal crusade. He even points out that this war is about people with unresolved feelings, like himself. So, does Dabi actually believe in true heroes? Does he believe in a hero society, just “purified” of abusers like his father?

Unlike AFO!Shigaraki and Enji, Dabi doesn’t seem to hold All Might responsible for his misfortunes. But he’s still driven to “surpass” All Might to please his father. Upon landing in Kamino, Dabi burns the “hero must die” sign, then flies up above the hair tufts of the statue. From there he launches some attacks, monologues his backstory, and attacks again. He begins melting the statue on the left side, starting with the “victory” arm and then the left side of the head and face — exactly where Shoto’s scar is (the second time Dabi aims for that area in this chapter). That’s when Dabi taunts Shoto and asks if he’s an All Might fan.

But it’s really this final panel that gets me. Precisely when Dabi is talking about how he envies Shoto, and how Shoto was “born blessed,” Horikoshi shows us the statue of All Might’s left side melting. As Dabi exposes his jealousy of “natural born” Shoto, he melts the born-quirkless All Might. As Dabi critiques Shoto for needing friends, he melts the Symbol of Peace Loneliness. [Insert task failed successfully meme.]

Everything that Dabi is jealous of Shoto having are things All Might didn’t have. Dabi and All Might were both born with the “wrong” body for what they wanted to achieve. Both had to grow their powers and train alone after disappointing an overbearing and abusive father figure who only cared about their fighting skill and not the whole person. To the extent Dabi does follow Stain and believe in “pure” heroes, All Might does too. All Might complained about heroes who only wanted fame and glory way back in Chapter 2. And both have a grudge against AFO. This makes me more confident that we will see Toya add his considerable strength to the OFA fire, converting his flames from Endeavor’s murderous ones to the heroic blaze.

Finally… there’s a thread of madness/insanity connecting All Might and Izuku to Enji, Toya, and Shoto. I’m not entirely sure what it means yet, tbh. I think maybe the unifying thread centers on giving up on yourself vs being willing to die to prove your ideals, but there’s also an element of watching/being watched. I hadn’t thought before this meta of how Enji, Toya, and Shoto all watch All Might, but IMO it’s creepier than Stain, Nighteye, & Izuku’s obsessive fanboying.

Will we get a third All Might-Endeavor talk? Will Toya meet Stain or All Might? Or, knowing how dramatic Dabi can be — and how much he wants to bring down fake hero society — does Dabi have dirt on All Might? In the face of Shoto’s new move, what can Dabi do?

In conclusion: All Might is melting but Dabi’s piercings are intact. This is fine.

[jaskierswolf]

I cannot get over the way Jaskier sings "I'm weak my love" in Her Sweet Kiss. Prompt where he says or sounds like that in the moment? 👉👈

I wrote this at like 2am a few nights ago in @thepassifloradiscord live write channels 😂 I hope you like it, nonny!

_

Geralt had seen Jaskier perform in many taverns and halls and fairs all across the Continent, possibly more times than even the greatest fan of the bard. At first it had been a chore, but Geralt soon learned to appreciate the delicacy of Jaskier’s voice, the intricacies of his performance. He wasn’t sure when it happened, after the third, maybe the fourth or fifth performance… but Geralt had realised he was not immune to the bard’s flirting.

It wasn’t love. Not yet, but even Geralt knew that it wasn’t far off. If only he could allow himself to fall, to be vulnerable, to forget his training and for once in his damn life… let his heart be seen.

For decades, Jaskier had been by his side, and all Geralt had done was hurt him. The look on his face at the top of the mountain had been heartbreaking, so much so that Geralt had had to turn away to stop himself from crumbling, but now, in a shitty tavern far from the scene of the crime, barely a few months later… Geralt was lost for words.

The bard’s hair was scruffy and unkempt, his clothes were torn and stained with dirt and what smelled like old blood… not Jaskier’s, thankfully. Gods, he was a mess.

But he was beautiful

Sat at the edge of the stage, his lute resting in his lap and tears shining in his eyes… he was beautiful, melancholy and haunting. Geralt was drawn to Jaskier like a moth to a flame, not like with Yennefer, no, that was fake ties of Destiny pulling them closer. With Jaskier it had been and always would be a choice of his own making. No matter how much he tried to deny it, Geralt cared for Jaskier and there was no doubt that the bard felt the same way. They were best friends, and yet the word “friend” always left a sour taste in Geralt’s mouth, a clenching in his chest.

Watching Jaskier play that night was captivating. Gone was the carefree flirting and dancing around the room, and in its place was a stillness that Geralt has never associated with the bard before. Jaskier didn’t seem to have noticed him, which was probably for the best. After the way they’d ended things, Geralt didn’t want his presence to disturb Jaskier’s performance. So Geralt tucked himself into the darkest corner of the room and watched in awe as Jaskier continued to sing.

“I’m weak my love,” Jaskier’s voice cracked and the rest of the song was lost to Geralt’s ears.

Never in all the years that Geralt had watched Jaskier perform, had he known the bard to lose control of his voice. He was a masterful vocalist and even Geralt could admire and recognise the skill, even if he couldn’t say it.

To watch him fall apart on stage was- was… it was too much.

Everything that Geralt had fought so hard to deny for so many years came crashing down like waves. He found himself stumbling blindly towards the stage, towards Jaskier, falling to his knees with a broken cry as his world was turned upside down.

“Forgive me,” he begged, not able to look Jaskier in the eyes.

A hand cupped his cheek, calloused fingertips brushing along his jaw. “Only if you forgive me, I- I wasn’t a good travel companion. I can be better, I can-“

Geralt reached up to hold Jaskier’s hand against his cheek. “I fucked up, Jaskier, you shouldn’t have to apologise.”

“But-”

“Please, just let me. This time,” Geralt insisted. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said-”

“I don’t care what you said, Geralt!” The words were sharper than Geralt expected and his eyes snapped up to meet a sea of icy blue. “You left me there.”

I’m weak my love

The sound of Jaskier’s voice breaking echoed around his head, strengthening his resolve with every breath.

“I won’t leave you again, Jaskier. I promise.” And as he said the words, he brought Jaskier’s hand to his lips, brushing a kiss to the bruised knuckles. “I’m here, love. I’m yours.”

_

Taglist: @geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde, @comfyswitcherblanketfort, @fontegagrilledcheese, @dani-dandelino, @dapandapod @damnbert @officerjennie @feraljaskier @geralt-of-riviass @kueble @gilberik @llamasdumpsterfire @trickstermoose67 @alllthequeenshorses @skai6 @karolincki @eya-trying-to-function @stonedstargazer666 @aurelia-which-means-sunrise @hot-multifandom-mess

[nxrthmizu]

Crash and Burn

fandom | miraculous ladybug

genre | salt, lila salt

pairing | n/a

w.c | 3.2k

author's note | hey remember that lila salt fic i promised? this isn't it but this is something i made today so yep. please accept this as an apology for yknow. me promising to write and. not doing it.

Enough was enough.

“Marinette, stop accusing Lila! She just wants to make friends!”

“Take the high road.”

“Be a good model student, Marinette.”

Enough. Was. Enough.

Marinette had the connections, the power, the choice to make Lila’s entire world crumble apart. The only thing that stood between the liar’s demise was the tiniest pinch of morality and self-restraint— And no, that self-restraint did not come in the form of Tikki. Even the kwami, who had to be an aggregation of all the good and nice things in the world, was fed up and ready to retaliate.

“What a joke.” Lila cackled, tossing a chunk of her sausage hair over her shoulder flamboyantly. The two girls were in the bathroom, with Lila smirking in front of the sink and Marinette a little distance away from her. “You can make my world crumble? What is this, a threat?”

“A promise.” Marinette corrected. “Stop telling lies. Come clean to every one. No more lying about knowing celebrities left and right, no more making excuses about not being able to take your own notes, no more making up ‘diseases’ just so your life gets a little more convenient. To be frank, I really don’t care what happens to you— But by making these empty promises to introduce my classmates to great ‘celebrities’, you’re ruining their futures. Stop.”

“And what are you going to do if I don’t?” Lila sneered, face twisted into an ugly grin. “You going to cry in front of the class? Try and convince them that I, the one they adore— That I am lying?”

“No.” Marinette’s eyes were clear when she met Lila’s. The clouds of self-doubt that used to hover over the bright, shining star inside her soul had now dissipated, letting the bluenette emit a confident, glowing appearance as she met the liar head on. “I’m just going to keep my promise.”

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

Lila headed off to a modelling shoot after school, pleased at the prospect of spending more time with Adrien. There were a couple tendrils of Marinette’s words hanging behind in her mind— Did the girl mean what she said? Did she actually… Was she actually capable of causing Lila’s downfall? … Surely not. Marinette may have once been the ‘Everyday Ladybug’, but there was no way she was that competent, there was no way the girl was capable of plotting.

The Italian hummed, brushing away thoughts of the annoying bluenette from her mind. She was going on a photoshoot— One that was going cause the rise and burst of her career, the one that was going to make her name a globally-known one. Unfortunately for Lila, her plans were going to be derailed quite soon— In fact, as soon as Gabriel Agreste’s car rolled into the parking lot of the shoot location.

“Explain this, Mlle. Rossi.” Gabriel’s nostrils flared as he pointed to the tabloid article on his tablet. The Italian girl froze, the headlines seared into her eyes, big and black and bold, shooting poison right into the core of her body, paralysing her cell by cell starting from her heart. “What is the meaning of this?”

‘Adrien Agreste Reported To Be Harassed by Fellow Model’— The image under the caption was one that was clearly taken by a hidden photographer. The picture was framed with leafy foliage, which suggested that the camera was tucked up in a tree. Despite the distance, it was quite obvious in the image that Adrien was reeling away, disgusted and uncomfortable as a faceless woman in an orange blazer, back turned to the camera— Invaded his personal space.

The subtitle was the cream on the cupcake.

‘Witnesses State Gabriel Agreste Ignorant of Workplace Harassment’.

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

As if things couldn’t quite go down a worser path, Lila returned home to a fuming mother and an unexpected visitor.

“Lila! You come here right this instant!” The diplomat demanded as soon as the front door opened, her daughter shrinking slightly at the tone and pitch that her mother was using. The last time her mother had been this angry— Well, it was when she got expelled from her last school. “I can’t believe what you’ve done! If it weren’t for your kind classmate, lord knows how long you would’ve continued with this!”

The Italian meekly followed her mother into the living room, eyes widening until they were as large as saucers, mouth agape at the last person she expected to see sitting on the couch.

Marinette smiled kindly, waving at the girl, looking every bit the part of the innocent, pure, kind child that every parent wanted to have. Before Lila could release a torrent of questions about what the hell Marinette Dupain-Cheng was doing in her living room, her mother charged on, beginning to take out her anger on her daughter while a literal angel sat on the sofa, cradling a box of pastries from her family’s bakery.

“Your friend here tells me that you’ve been taking absences from school to go on trips to help humanity!” Mme. Rossi exploded, waving her arms around madly. “She says she’s here to share her notes from the classes you’ve missed! You’ve never left Paris this year! What’s this I hear about flying off to the kingdom of— What was it called again, Marinette dear?”

“Achu.” Provided the bluenette helpfully, the diplomat’s expression instantly softening when she talked to the other teen in the living room.

“Ah, yes. Thank you, dear.” The woman turned back to her daughter, instantly snapping on a mask of anger in a matter of a fraction of a second. “What’s this about flying off to this kingdom of Achu to help homeless orphans with some random prince?”

“Um…” Lila piped up, wriggling as her brain churned at 200 lies per hour, trying to whip up a cover of some sort.

“I’m not done! Your friend here is such a helpful child that she even went as far as to ask her family doctor is there’s a cure for your… Lying disease!” Mme. Rossi practically roared, breathing flames as if she were an intimidating dragon, her daughter flinching away from the heat. “I’ve never heard of anything more ridiculous! And then there’s the fact that you lied to your classmates about having tinnitus?!”

“I actually do have tinnitus!” Lila cut in forcibly, widening her eyes to make herself look more pitiful. “I was just afraid to tell you because I didn’t want you to worry!”

“Bullshit!”

“Um… Sorry to interrupt, Mme. Rossi,” Marinette piped up, the diplomat instantly cooling down as she faced the bluenette, a soft smile tracing the Italian woman’s lips. “But it’s getting rather late and my parents would love me home soon. I also have some tests to revise for tonight, so I think I should get going.”

“Oh, of course, dear.” Mme. Rossi hastily got up to help the bluenette to the door, shooting a warning glare at her daughter— ‘Sit still and don’t you dare go anywhere’, the glare read. “Feel free to come over again anytime you want, dear. I’m not home often, but you are such a sweet child. I’m sure Lila could learn a lot from you.”

“Thanks for having me as well, Mme. Rossi. I really like your home. I left the pastries on the counter— Make sure to warm the curry puffs before you eat them.” Marinette returned the smile, bowing slightly to the older woman as a sign of respect.

“Thank you for the pastries as well, Marinette. I ought to visit your parents’ bakery sometime when I’m free.” Mme. Rossi opened the door kindly for the bluenette, waving the girl off with an affectionate smile. Her parents must be so lucky to have such a sweet little thing like her, Mme. Rossi sighed internally, turning the key so she locked the door. And she seems to be a high-scoring student as well.

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

Lila seethed, having been grounded by her mother. As far as Mme. Rossi was concerned, there was a boarding school not too far away from their current residence, and by the next week, the Italian girl would be transferred over. Lila had never hated Dupain-Cheng as much as she did in that moment.

Still furious, the Italian snapped her laptop open, too angry to bother with the fact she might’ve scratched the surface. Clicking into the web browser, she started to type in the words ‘Ladyblog’— That was, before a news article caught her eye.

‘Jagged Stone Interview Reveals Underage, Obsessed Fan’.

What on Earth…

As soon as Lila clicked into the link, the news footage from the interview immediately begin to play. The date stamp on it showed that it had aired last night— Which meant that she would’ve missed it, since her mother was too busy yelling at her to turn on the television to watch Nadja Chamack’s daily news.

“As soon as I heard this rumour about some underage teenage girl claiming that she had saved my cat on an airport runway, I called Penny and asked her to book a slot for me to clarify this,” Jagged Stone said grimly, dressed in more formal attire as he sat in the comfortable, cushioned chair of the news station, with Nadja nodding equally seriously beside him. “Let me clarify— I’ve never owned a cat. I’m allergic to fur. The only pet I’ve had was Fang, and he’s an al-li-ga-tor. Not a cat. Whatever the girl is claiming, she’s obsessed and making up stories.”

“It’s also kind of bewildering that she saved it on an airport runway,” Nadja continued, shaking her head in disappointment. “That kind of thing only happens in dramas— It’s too dangerous for anyone besides authorised workers to be on airport runways.”

“Right, right!” Jagged agreed instantly. “The whole rumour is just really baffling.”

“M. Jagged, may I ask what kind of effect these rumours have on a celebrities’ career?” Nadja continued, leading the conversation on like a professional.

“Well, rumours that circulate around tend to have really bad effects, and the worse ones can hang around for a long, long time. Tabloids are often spun off from rumours, baseless and with no evidence. Those tabloids will never truly disappear, so they can leave a mark on a celebrity’s reputation as some people will believe anything— Even things they read from un-cited tabloids.”

“That is simply terrible. Have you ever had any cases of rumours created by underaged teens before this?”

“I’ve had quite a number, but none of them really got as big as this one. From what Penny has found from digging around, the teen girl managed to spread the rumour through her school and onto a once-popular blog.” Jagged explained. “Penny has also found out that the same girl has claimed that I’ve written songs for her to thank her for saving my cat! I would never write songs and dedicate them to an underaged girl— Trust me. If I could do such a thing, I’d already have written a dozen in honour of my niece— She’s my favourite designer.”

Nadja smiled at that sentence. “Then—“

The news footage cut off abruptly as Lila slammed her laptop shut, too upset to continue watching.

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

On the other side of Paris, Alya was pacing around her room frantically, wondering why on earth Lila wasn’t picking up on her calls. She’d left at least four dozen messages to the Italian, who was absent from school that day. There had been a couple whispers here and there about why she was missing— Rose had suggested another impromptu trip to Achu.

Lila’s absence wasn’t the weirdest part of the day, however.

That award would go to Marinette, who walked into class with a smile, the slightest sprinkles of delight colouring her bluebell eyes when she spotted Lila’s empty seat.

Growing in frustration, Alya threw herself onto her bed, phone clattering onto the mattress with her. Within the next few minutes, however, her phone suddenly started exploding with notifications. Excited at the prospect of Lila finally texting back, Alya turned on her phone, only to be disappointed by the notifications all clamouring from the class group chat.

Kim had sent a link to the chat— Without hesitation, Alya clicked into it, frowning when she saw Nadja and Jagged appear on the screen. Throughout the interview, the colour on the Ladyblogger’s face only paled by the second until she was as white as a sheet, and if it were halloween at that time, she would’ve won the best costume award for being a ghost.

There must… There must’ve been a mistake.

A notification from Lila’s number made the blogger perk up, instantly clicking into the conversation— But her newfound hope didn’t last very long.

[Lila]

Hi, Alya. This is Lila’s mom. She’s currently grounded right now. Is there anything important you need to tell her?

[Alya]

Oh, nothing much… I just wanted to ask where she was.

[Lila]

She’s at home.

[Alya]

Okay, thanks.

Flopping onto her bed, Alya begin thinking, revising over the past few months like it was an old clip. Lila’s exciting adventures and interactions with celebrities of every kind— Lila going overseas and face timing the entire class— Lila letting her in on the secrets of being Ladybug’s friend…

… Marinette trying to tell them that Lila was lying…

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

The class was awfully silent the next day. Adrien was absent as well— A social worker was looking into his home life as a result of the tabloid that arose. Things for the blonde could either get better or worse from then on, as the matters were still foggy and things hadn’t cleared up yet. The blonde maintained contact with his friends, however, calling and texting them whenever he could.

“Class, settle down.” Mlle. Bustier stepped into the class, looking very tense and uncomfortable. “Today, we will have a guest, so please be on your best behaviours, alright?”

Just as the teacher finished speaking, a tall, regal-looking Italian woman entered the classroom, a cowering principal and a meek-looking Lila in tow. The class brightened slightly at the sight of their friend— But by the way she wasn’t looking into their eyes… Things weren’t going to be good.

“Good morning. I am Mme. Rossi, Lila’s mother.” The woman begin speaking, her firm and no-nonsense tone instantly making every student sit straight, their eyes too afraid to look anywhere else but the Italian diplomat. “It has come to my attention that my daughter has been taking absences from school to do charity work— And I have to clarify that this is a lie. Lila has been doing nothing but holing herself up in her room, lying to me and saying that there are no classes due to akumas.” The Italian diplomat glowered at Damocles. “What’s even more baffling is the fact that neither her homeroom nor the principal bothered to check up with me despite a student having extended periods of absence with no note or email written whatsoever.”

The class was so quiet that they could hear the quiver of Mlle. Bustier’s trembling lip.

“In addition, I’ve been kindly told that Lila has claimed to have a lying disease, which is the most ridiculous thing I’ve heard this week.” It was impossible to miss the way the Italian diplomat was glaring daggers at both Mlle. Bustier and Damocles. “No one bothered to look it up online to see if it’s actual disorder, nor did anyone call me to confirm and ask for a doctor’s note, which is standard procedure.” Chills burst over the room, making every one shiver as the woman hissed out her words.

“Mme. Rossi, we didn’t want to disturb your busy schedule—” Damocles begin, only to be blown backwards from the sheer intensity of Mme. Rossi’s glower.

“M. Damocles, standard procedures exist for a reason. Unless you’d like to tell me about any other things you’ve been letting my daughter get away with?”

“N— No, Mme.”

The Italian diplomat continued on her war path. “My daughter also claimed to have tinnitus, am I correct?”

“Y— Yes, Mme.” Mlle. Bustier answered when it seemed like no one was going to.

“And I heard that the class seating arrangement was shifted to accommodate for that?” The homeroom teacher didn’t dare answer this time, for it seemed like whatever she said would be the incorrect answer. “And apparently, my daughter has also been faking broken wrists and requesting for her classmates to complete her work for her.” Mme. Rossi was practically breathing flames at that point, “And I am incredibly upset at the lack of action from the homeroom teacher.”

No one could breath.

“I have many concerns about the running of this schooling facility, and I expect to discuss this with M. Damocles privately after this. However, there is still something to be done.” Mme. Rossi swept her gaze towards her daughter, who found the floor incredibly interesting at that point of time. “Lila? Something you’d like to say to your classmates?”

“… I’m sorry for lying to you.” Lila mumbled resentfully.

“Louder, Lila. No one can hear you.”

“I’m sorry for lying to you!” Lila swallowed, bursting like an explosion that had finally been triggered, tears in her eyes and fists hatefully curled. “I’m sorry for lying about my diseases and injuries. I’m sorry for making you do my work,” She spat. “Sorry for causing any inconveniences.”

Mme. Rossi raised an eyebrow at her daughter. “Is that all?”

Lila glared at her mother, who was completely unfazed. “Oh, so you want an apology from me? Fine!” She turned to the class, a maniacal glint in her eyes as she sneered at the class, a few gasps puffing from around the room as they caught their first glimpse of the liar that resided in the ‘harmless’ shell of Lila Rossi. “I’m sorry that you are all such idiots that you all fell for everything. I’m sorry that Marinette has such terrible, untrusting classmates that turned their backs on her even though she was still a goody-two shoes till the end, even though she still wanted to help you sorry peasants. I’m sorry that you were all so goddamn gullible! There! Good enough for you?”

Shock was etched into the faces of every human in the classroom— Including Mlle. Bustier, M. Damocles, and Mme. Rossi themselves. Clearly, that part of the apology had not been part of the plan.

“Did I miss something?” Said a sweet voice, followed by the presence of a bluenette, her hair tied in a half-up. A royal blue blazer decorated her lithe form, accompanied by a smart-looking white blouse and a black plaited skirt. Formal had never looked so good on anyone— And if someone didn't know better, they'd think that the bluenette was a young lawyer, emerging victorious from her first successful case.

“Marinette!” Alya exclaimed.

“I’m sorry that you’re such an annoying, little, pest.” Lila bit in the girl’s face, disdain colouring her features as she ignored her mother’s enraged gasp behind her.

The bluenette simply smiled, unaffected by the liar who had crashed and burned like the liar once wished upon her. Marinette Dupain-Cheng stood at her full height, the perfect image of grace and poise as she maintained her composure, quite unlike her nemesis, who thrashed under her mother’s restraining hands.

“And I’m sorry that you didn’t take my promise to heart.”

this can count as adrien redemption depending on you cause ehhh i dont like how passive he is but i havent caught up with the recent episodes, he might have become better. idk.

also where the hell is my miraculous taglist i cant find it so eep. no tagging ppl ig oops

[inkedtae]

a lover’s howl ⇾ kth. [M]

⟶ inspired by Howl’s Moving Castle and part of The Ghibli Series

⌁ pairing; howl!taehyung x reader (f.)

⌁ genre/rating; studio ghibli au, howl’s moving castle au, smut, a dash of fluff, a bit of angst, 18+

⌁ summary; an unforsaken spell blesses you with his presence again

⌁ word count; 4.1k

⌁ warnings; howl!taehyung, blonde!taehyung, bigdicc!taehyung, dom!taehyung, sub!reader, unprotected sex, rough sex, praise kink, dirty talk, oral (f. receiving), fingering, body worshipping, basically a moving amount of filth~ 

⚘ happy birthday juno ♡ (@onherwings​)~ 

⚘ a huge thanks to my beta readers, @kkulmoon​, @nottodayjjk​ and @uhgood-dooghu​, for taking the time to read this over and fix it up for me. it means a lot and i don’t think i will ever be able to thank you enough. also a special thanks @yeoldontknow​ for letting me talk at her, giving me ideas and always supporting me. I owe this fic being finished on time to you. 

The rumble of the train trembles the walls of your workshop. Black fumes cloud the moonlight. Your candles flicker atop your desk, threatening to diminish and leave you sewing in the dark. Weaving feathers in and out of a black hat, you’re too preoccupied with thoughts of him to be fazed by the sound. He writes often, enclosing a black feather with every letter, but doesn’t visit as much. You’re not sure what of this “important business” is so dangerous that you can’t come along as well. You have survived much worse, witnessed his near death and helped him rebuild his castle afterall. And though you told yourself countless times that there’s no good dwelling on the past, you can’t seem to stop wondering what exactly changed his mind. 

A prick of your thumb stings you out of your thoughts. In a jolt, you drop the needle and hat to shoot out of your seat with a hiss. You lick the wound before it bleeds then press your fingertip upon it. You hope the pressure subsides the wound long enough for you to fetch a bandage from the first aid kit. 

Now, where did Taehyung say it was? Something about a library... or was it a living room? You make your way up to the attic, hoping he did in fact mention the library. All you can really remember from that conversation was how handsome he looked in that pink coat you stitched up for him. It just frames his broad shoulder so well only to narrow around his thin waist. And then there was that knowing look in his eyes that told you he knew just how much you weren’t listening at all. 

“Baby,” he had whispered, cupping your chin. “Are you listening?” And once you had found the mental capacity to resist the urge to kiss him and slowly nod, he had smirked and repeated, “The kit is in-”

The library flickers to life when you enter. Dust settles upon every inch and you begin to wonder why he had forbade you from entering before as you scan the shelves for the kit. Leather bound books and tightly rolled scrolls reside on every surface. Trinkets of his journey clutter around as well. You had thought you talked to him about the importance of organization, but it seems that he prefers this mess best. 

Your attention settles on the desk, sitting in front of a large window. Presuming it’s probably in one of the desk drawers, you make your way over with the intention of rifling through them and nothing more. You’ve learned from past experience that it’s best to never tinker with his things. However, once you stand before it, a red, leather bound book catches your eye. The imprinted title is written in an unreadable script and seems to be floating off the cover. How could that dance off the surface like that? Against your better judgement, curiosity hovers your fingers over the font.

Slamming open, the book flips and flicks through various pages only to suddenly stop. Rose coloured font apperates into view in that unreadable script again. You furrow your brows, attempting to read it anyways, until the strokes of ink shift around the pages. They rearrange themselves into a script you can decipher. 

A Lover’s Howl. 

Yearning of heart and 

Tethers of soul.

I wish to end my misery

And the distance apart

Together unruly and-

The tremors of the train erupt every wall of the attic, pulling you out of your thoughts. Startled, you glance out the window to find that it is not the train at all you owe this rukkus to, but the upset clouds. Flashes of lightning burn the sky alight as rain beats down the busy street. 

You turn back to the desk and shut the book. That’s enough snooping for a night. You still have that first aid kit to find. Rummage through the drawers, you finally find a little tin of bandages under a box of rose and emerald ink pots. Teeth between the thin paper, you rip open the little bandage and wrap it around your thumb. However, it seems like once one wound is taken care of, another flames. 

Aching, your heart sits heavy in your chest. You take a deep breath, hands too shaky to return the kit back beneath the ink pots. The action seems to push the numb pain to your gut. A little whimper escapes you. You lean on the edge of the desk, inhaling sharply. You’re still breathing, you try to remind yourself. And that should be a comforting fact if your pussy didn’t begin aching as well. With a shaky gasp, you press your thighs together and wonder why the thought of being bent over this very desk seems to be unfathomably appealing right now. 

Your fingers hover over the pearl buttons of your dress; it suddenly seems awfully tight in this hot room. Wait- when did the room get so ho- “Agh,” you whine as another pang of pain makes you needier. 

The newfound heat suffocates skin, hands moving fast to push that blue dress off your shoulders. It doesn’t hit the ground before you start to discard your bra and panties as well. Still, your body burns with a desire to be overtaken. It’s as if you’ve been edged all day, left half finished and ready to finally unravel. Desperate to feel just that, you slide a hand down to your aching pussy. It clenches emptily, yearning for Taehyung's huge cock. God, it’s been too long since he last stretched you out. Nothing can ever quite compare to his size, your fingers and vibrator a weak excuse for anything besides clitoral pleasure.

Rubbing at your clit, you try to soothe the craving for him now. However, the pain only seems to intensify. It’s as if your body knows it’s not your own hand you crave, but Taehyung’s. And where is he now to graze your folds between his fingers and tease with little praises? You can just see him peeking up from between your legs, tongue poking out of his lips and breath fanning over your heat. And you’d push yourself up into him. So, he’d smirk and chuckle, and tell you to be patient or he won’t do anything at all. You can even hear him now, taunting at your desperate, half-naked state in the very section of the house he told you to never enter. 

“What did I say about looking through my things?” 

Hand cupping your heat, your attention snaps to the door. Taehyung leans against the doorframe, the candlelight sculpting his features sharply. His name leaves you in a whisper as you begin to wonder how desperate you are to have resorted to hallucinations? Maybe you should really call him if your mind’s gone this far. But, as you attempt to move around the desk, another shot of pain holds you back. You gasp a quiet cry and harshly rub circles around your clit. 

Concern colours Taehyung’s features. “Sweetheart,” he calls, rushing over to you. You’re about to pride your mind on such a vivid and accurate imagination when you feel his large hands settle on your arms. Soft and cold, he holds you tight and guides your hunched over frame onto the desk. Shrugging his coat off, he drapes it over your shoulders and asks, “What’ve you done to yourself?” 

“You’re here?” 

“I’m here,” he smiles. 

A breathless chuckle bubbles out of you as your hands wrap around his neck. Your arousal slicked hands stain his shirt, but he doesn’t seem to mind, pulling you into a tighter hug. “You shouldn’t have come in here,” he mutters between peppering little kisses in the crook of your neck. 

His vanilla cedar scent coddles your heart and aches your bones. You whimper into his shoulder at how quickly the pain intensifies from a single whiff. Taehyung pulls half an inch away, concerned and confused. With his forehead resting against yours, he licks his lips and you can’t think of a better use for that tongue if not to lick at your pussy. The pain shoots at you again just as your thoughts become interesting. You swallow your whimpers as he brushes your hair out of your face.

His gaze falls to your bare chest before lingering around your pussy. Suddenly aware of your nakedness, you shyly press your thighs together. Every inch of you just wants to beg him for his cock already, no matter if you're bent on his desk or pressed against the window. You just need him on you, in you, touching every part of you. 

The courage to ask for what you want finally presents itself when he shifts his gaze to something behind you. You sneak a glance over your shoulder to find that open book. A little sigh escapes him and he returns his attention to you with a little smirk. “You missed me this much,” he teases, caressing your cheek, “that you just had to cast a mating spell, hmm?” 

Is that what that was? You weren’t even sure you could read it before it rearranged. You’re about to apologize when the pain cinches your words in your throat. Doubling over, you rest your head against his shoulder and whine, “Ah, Tae!” 

He wraps his arms around you, further engulfing you in his scent and you don’t think you can take much more of this. Whatever this mating spell is, you’re sure it’s not supposed to be tearing you apart. Clutching on the collar of his shirt, you mumble, “I need you, Tae. I need your mouth and fingers and- I just need you so bad.” 

You wish you can say you hate the way his eyes glisten with power. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he knew exactly how you were feeling and was just waiting for you to say it. He’s told you before that the sight of you so needy always awakes something dark within him. He loves to watch you whine and quiver. 

His hold on your face tightens as his fingers dig into your skin. You swallow thickly, another whine escaping from the mere thought of those fingers deep in you. He licks his lips before asking, “What do you need me to do so bad, sweetheart?” 

He trails his fingers down your neck, past your collarbone and the valley of your breasts; waiting, watching. When all you can muster is his name in a little mewl, he whispers, peppermint breath fanning over your face, “Do you want to start on your knees?” 

“Anything,” you gasp, tugging on his shirt. You just need him close, need him now. “We can do it anyway you want, just please fuck me already.” 

Surprise alights his eyes for a moment. Never have you spoken this crassly, without his cock already deep in you that is. He chuckles, on the verge of teasing you about it when another pained whimper escapes you. Taehyung settles his large hands on your thighs. Leaning in, he brushes his nose against yours then places a soft kiss upon the corner of your lips. “I know it hurts, sweetheart, but I can’t do much if you don’t tell me exactly what you want.” 

You pause for a moment, wondering how much clearer you could be. Usually, a declaration to be riled is enough to set him off. You’re never the one guiding him as he always insists on guiding you. He says it's because he loves how obedient you suddenly become when his dick is involved. And though you have tried to fight him on it in the past, there’s not much you can deny now. So, you bite back a whine until you have enough strength to order just above a whisper, “I need your mouth, Tae. You’re fingers too. Honestly, anything will do just as long as you're tasting me.” 

He bites back a chuckle as he lowers himself to his knees. Spreading your legs, he urges you to lean back a bit. The gesture pushes a variety of books and pens to the floor. Neither of you can be too bothered, however, with his face inches away from your pussy. 

Holding your gaze, Taehyung dives in. You expect him to lick a long strip up your pussy to start, as he always does, only to have him suction his lips around your clit. Either way, you’re sure the pain withers away. A relieved gasp echoes in the small room as you throw your head back. You can barely even feel the previous ache when he releases your clit to lap up your wetness. All you can focus on is how you missed his warm tongue. 

“Oh fuck, just like that,” you moan, eyes fluttering shut. Your hips roll up to meet his tongue, body craving more of him. 

“Keep talking to me, baby,” he mutters around a mouthful of pussy. “How fast do you want it?”

You run a hand through his hair and hold on tight. “Fast!” Taehyung groans against you, making your heart flutter enough for you to forget what more you wanted to say. Until a small ache pokes at your gut again. With a whine, you reply, “I need your fingers. I need you to shove them in me and lick me and make me cum. Fuck, Tae, just please make me cum.” 

Taehyung circles two fingers around your tight, little hole, muttering, “About time you remembered your manners.” 

Not much strength lives in you to tell him that you’ll remember your manners when he finally lets you come along with him to whatever “important business” that’s taken him this long. And even if you could speak, all you can really think about is how you missed his fucking fingers. So long and slender, they slide into you so far and curl just right.The pain dissipates and you throw your head back with a loud moan. You’re not sure what this spell was, but you’re thankful for it if it means bringing Taehyung back home. 

You attempt to ride his face again only to have him remove his lips. He smirks up at you, amused gaze peeking through his blonde bangs. His fingers quicken and bash just where you need them.

“Taehyung,” you sigh. Voice breathless, strained with the return of that painful, greedy desire to unravel, you whine, “I need your mouth.” 

He chuckles. You shudder. Has he been gone so long that you’ve genuinely forgotten just how much you adored that laugh? You’ve never been able to process the duality of it, the cheerful tone sounding so deep and dark.

“And what do you want me to do about that?” 

Oh, right. The spell. It only seems to let him follow your orders. You make a mental note to tease him about it later, the gnawing ache of your gut begging to be eased. Still, under your breath, you mumble, “Must I hold your hand through this?”

Taehyung clenches his jaw. His eyes blink cold, hard and darken into vexation. If he could, he’d smack your pussy, bend you over for a spanking only to edge you thrice before finally letting you cum. At least, that’s what he did the last time you talked back. Instead, he resorts to glares and little reminders to “behave” since “the spell will break before the night is over.” 

You shiver with every moan as you sit up. A few more scrolls roll to the ground from the shift of your position, but you pay them no mind. As the thunder roars beyond the little library, you cup Taehyung’s wet smeared chin and guide him back onto his feet. 

“All I can ever think about,” you start, attempting to speak through your moans, “is all the time lost not getting fucked in that moving castle.” 

“It’s d-”

“Dangerous,” you finish. “More dangerous than a mating spell? Than this stupid libr- fuck, I think I’m close.” You fall forward to rest your head against his shoulders. Taehyung scoffs and you don’t need to glance at his handsome face to know he’s smirking. You can hear it. 

Hand shooting to his wrist, you stop his fingers mid-thrust. The spell’s pain lingers around your pussy, tightening your walls around him. It threatens its return as your orgasm slowly disappears. He whispers your name, but you only meet his gaze when you’ve bitten every needy whine back long enough to say, “I just want you to fuck me like you want me.” 

“What makes you think I don’t want you?”

A little whine slips past your lips. Taehyung’s expression softens and he shifts in place, likely feeling helpless when you don’t allow him to ease the ache. “You left, Tae,” you sigh. “You left me here. I want you to fuck me like you never did. I want you to replace your fingers with your cock and touch me like you love me.”

Taehyung pauses. “You think I don’t love you?” 

Though the answer is on the tip of your tongue, you know better than to tell him it now. Taehyung is no fun to fuck when he’s genuinealy upset. And if you are going to be rid of this unforsaken curse, you know that you’ll need to keep the rest of your thoughts to yourself. So you let go of his wrist and the spell compels his actions once more. 

Taehyung removes his fingers then rids himself of his clothes. You can’t seem to keep your hands from wandering over his chest and clutching onto his shoulders. He smiles at you and, though it’s small, that smile of his makes you wonder if perhaps you’ve ruined the entire mood and now he’ll only fuck you because he wants simply to help. 

Then he seizes your hips. You’re pulled forward until the length of his cock presses between your folds. He strokes his nose along your cheek, wet lips whispering, “I think the real issue is how you have trouble following orders.” Rolling his hips against yours, Taehyung groans into the crook of your neck. “It looks like I have to show you how it’s done.” 

You lose your fingers in his hair, clutching onto his bicep with your other hand. You missed how much he loved to tease. Lips biting into your collarbone, Taehyung reaches a hand between your bodies to align himself. A gentle push in and you’re exchanging praises. He’s definitely been gone too long if you’ve forgotten just how big he is. His mere tip stretches you enough to lose all words, incoherent affirmations taking their place instead. Eyes rolling back, you thrust up to try meeting his hips halfway, but Taehyung grounds you in place. 

A specific speed never left your lips and you just now realized that fast is in fact Taehyung’s default setting when it comes to fucking you into submission. All the pain you thought was returning feels as though it never arrived at all. You’re about to tell him to thrust harder when he clutches onto your neck. 

He stares into your desperate eyes, his own looking needier than usual - a fact he has never enjoyed admitting. “Do you know how many times I almost used this fucking spell?” he hisses as his thrusts become harsher. “Every night, I stare at that fucking page and think about how pretty you’d look when you’re full of my cock.” He growls a curse under his breath. The hand around your neck tightens just to let go. As it trails down your body to cup one of your bouncing breasts, he groans, “You look even more beautiful when you’re desperate for it. Did you know that?”

You let out a shaky moan. Hands sweaty, you try to maintain your grip on his shoulders as he plays with your body like a passtime. He thumbs your nipple, gazing down at how you arch your back and push yourself further against him. Breathless from the sheer sight, he picks up his pace. The desk scratches at the floor with every thrust. Your moans drown its sharp creaks as Taehyung buries his face between your breasts. Licking and biting, he feasts on you like he never left, like he does this every night and still can’t believe he has you. 

Cradling his head closer, you feel that once painful ache in your gut tighten, twist and slowly begin to beg for a chance to release. And you know he can feel you inching closer as well, little praises pouring out of him between his appreciation of your chest. 

“That’s my girl,” he rasps. “Taking my cock so well.” 

True, you’re annoyed it took a fucking spell to bring him back, but you’d be lying if his insistence of you being such a good girl didn’t just replace all your anger with affection. “Taehyung!” you cry. 

You’re about to ask for permission when you recall the fickle detail that you are the one calling the shots this time. Even still, you try to subside your urge to cum long enough to ask, “I-it’s okay to cum, right?” 

Taehyung laughs against your skin. He trails quick kisses back up to your lips, only to mutter moments later, much to your constant whining, “You don’t need to ask this time, sweetheart.” 

Like being doused with cold water, you allow yourself to come undone. Fingers digging into his skin, eyes rolling back, you scream out his name over and over again with the rhythm of his hips. Every new thrust adds to the quaking of your body. It breaks in your voice as you cry out for him. 

“Does that feel better?” he teases, voice husky and strained. If that isn’t enough indication that he’s close, the little twitch of his cock gives it away. “Is my dick enough or do you want me to cum too?” 

Nails imprinting into his skin, you try to meet his gaze. “If you don’t cum in me right now,” you start, breathless and desperate, “I swear I’ll cry.” 

Taehyung nudges his nose against yours before pressing his lips to yours. He lets you swallow all his moans as he pulls you close by your ass and holds you tight. Then, he bites your lip and fills you until you’re stuffed with more than just his giant cock.

A few more rushed kisses and sloppy thrusts are offered before Taehyung ceases all movement. He rests his head on your shoulder, fingers still sunk into the curves of your ass. Sweaty, heaving exhaustion overwhelms your senses. Pussy pulsing, you find that the longer Taehyung remains in you, the more twinges of that pain return. You know you should tell him that, only you’re worried that he’d go the moment he pulls out. He has served the purpose of the spell after all. 

Taehyung stands straighter now that his breath has returned to him. He shifts his hands from your ass to your hips and gently pulls out. A hiss escapes him. You feel empty all over again. 

Crossing your legs, you softly push his hands off your hips. It might just be best to make this easier on both of you, you wonder, and give him a chance to go. Maybe that way it won’t feel as though he’s abandoning you. 

“I guess you have to get back then,” you say as you hop off the desk. 

You both know he can sense your discomfort. “I can stay for a little while.”

Grabbing your dress off the ground, you ignore the emotion in his words. “Lucky me,” you mutter, turning back to find him inches away. 

Eyes locked, Taehyung maintains his sincerity. He tentatively wraps his arms around your waist and, when you don’t interject, presses you against his chest. “I’m- I-” he stutters for a moment before the words come together once more. “I thought leaving alone would be the safest. I didn’t think it would take this long.”

You shake your head. He’s missing the point. It shouldn’t take a spell to compel him to return. He shouldn’t have left you alone. “It shouldn’t matter how long it takes. I should always be there.” 

Taehyung falls silent. Guilt flashes in his eyes as he reverts them to the floor. Swallowing thickly, he meets your gaze again to mutter, “I just can’t risk losing you again.” 

“Then don’t leave me alone,” you whisper. 

Taehyung pulls you into a warm hug. A tearful apology is mumbled into your shoulder. You’re not very interested in it though. All you want is him; with or without a lover’s howl. 

note; please do not leave hate towards me or any other readers. please do not copy, repost, or translate any of my work without my permission.

[prof-peach]

if fans wanted to include peach in stuff they write, would that be okay? and how would they write peach's personality? aside from "FIGHT ME" anyway, i think that much is a given lol. i only really write the anime characters 'cause that's what i know, but it sounds like it'd be kinda fun to try making a version of ash that fits into this blog's universe! nerf'd Obviously, but i think she'd probably appreciate how hands-on he gets when training his pokemon!

Ok, I get a lot of these messages, and I often hear folks wanting to throw peach into their stories and comics and writings, and I will always simply ask that if it’s published online publicly, to be linked to it so I can snoop and enjoy the content too. If someone asks about her in your work, let them know about the blog I guess? But literally I love that people take this stuff, these characters and stories, and make new stuff with it. No ones making money off my work here? So where’s the issue? Go for it buddy, knock yourself out, I’m all for it.

For you, and all the others out there who want to add peach, and other characters to your world building, I will give you a detailed rundown of the main lot, and how they behave, what they do, how they function. You can use that, use bits, or use none of it, I do not mind at all. If you’re creating something, you’re in control, not me.

So, peach doesn’t actually fight people as much as you’d think. She’s very aware most cannot and do not want to do that, and so she likes to keep to herself with regards to that aspect of her life, she doesn’t ask to spar with people, or even bring it up at all, but people ask her all the time, even if they clearly would lose or become hurt should she miscalculate during the fight. She looks at people like they usually create problems, and often has a somewhat reserved nature to other humans. You have to work quite hard to get anything more than formalities out of her. She will dead-pan handle people with blunt and very to-the-point statements, aid whenever possible, but very quickly get back to handling the Pokemon she so carefully tends. Her focus is clear, she’s all about hard work, her very small select family, and the Pokemon.

Her brutal, loud and brash personality only comes out with friends, family, difficult humans, OR any Pokemon. She will joke and laugh and play with Pokemon, but clam up around humans, maintaining tight body language and generally will be a little cold by regular standards. She does however have some weaknesses in this emotionless shield she puts up. When peach was young she was always angry, which swung so fast to sadness, back and forth. Her teenage years it just got worse and worse, it was crippling at points. She is to this day, full of fire and rage, even sadness, but now she has learnt to control it, to use it. When she sees that in others, it’s familiar, and she is pushed to drop the front, and be very real with the person. Underdogs I suppose, people who get bad reps, but deserve the same as everyone else. She can’t ignore it.

Once you start to pry open her personality, you’ll find she’s a lot more laid back and fun than originally appeared, you just have to work hard to find that side of her. She will meme reference, can’t dance to save her life, loves her coffee, and can be caught in quiet contemplation while gardening. This hobby is her calmest, and often is why she can stay so level headed when her quiet rage boils up again. Without time outside she will become grouchy, a little snippy, and lethargic. Will not go in the ocean for any reason other than life or death, is fine with ponds and rivers, or water at wading height. Likes the rain.

With regards to her training others, they usually have to tolerate her somewhat strict nature. She is a little....unforgiving, holds a grudge if you make a lot of mistakes, and has no tolerance for ignorance in the age of information that we all live in. In previous posts I’ve mentioned she’s only recently selected two students, after many years of testing kids who want to learn from her. Hundred tried out, only two have ever been approved. How she teaches is very fast paced, be prepared to get some scrapes and bruises, she will test your physical and emotional tolerances with intense tasks, carefully watching students like a hawk. Bad posture in your stance? She’ll be the first to tell you to sort it out. Not hearing your Pokemon partner? Right, now you spend the day without using words trying to communicate, let’s see how you like not being listened to.

This is a woman who has spent her life saying very little, and watching everything, she watches Pokemon and can see an issue from a mile off, and in battles, her observations are why she can react fast, and chose effective strategy to avoid damage and achieve results. Don’t let her body fool you, her strongest asset is analysing, watching, planning. Those skills have over the years transferred to people too. As a student, mistakes don’t go unnoticed with this professor.

Her methods are harsh but fair, and should you prove yourself, she will protect you with her life.

Because of her disinterest in kids and lots of noise, she does pass the training of students on to the other staff members whenever possible. Grey takes on the lions share of battle lessons, he is far calmer, more open and friendly, with patience for people, and an empathy that peach sometimes struggles to have. When you go through a lot of harsh training, and difficult events, it’s hard to change how you feel or think, with peach, well, she’s been through it. Most do not come out the other end in one piece, but she did, and it made her strong. You may think I mean strong like buff and big, and yeah sure she is, but I mean it mentally more than anything. Peach will not quit. She has learnt to destroy the boundaries that stop people getting hurt, gone is the fear that freezes you in your tracks, that feeling that you’ll pass out if you go one more step. She’s learnt to ignore it.

This means she’s a little forgetful at how it is to be normal, to be vulnerable and soft and squishy like students so usually are.

She has her issues, but for the most part, visitors get a laugh, a smile, a calm assertive confidence, and facts. She will indulge those who have genuine interest, or show a connection with nature, an understanding of the balance that needs to be struck for everyone to live well together.

Despite her many flaws, she’s fiercely protective, and will go above and beyond to defend the island, it’s staff, the Pokemon and the visitors. Injustice is her biggest gripe, along with littering, and she doesn’t stand by quietly if something happens that seems unfair.

You will not see her without Valka, her vulpix, close by. That Pokemon doesn’t like to be touched by strangers, at all, and will run the second someone comes at her with that intent. Peach will scold you for pushing yourself onto her, should you persistently try to get close to pet Val. They are in sync, if peach is sad, Val is sad, if Val is stressed, peach is stressed, and so on. They are inherently connected, it’s just been that long, the psychic bridge between them has been built, and reinforced over the years.

The only other Pokemon who follows her so endlessly is Booker, a teddiursa who’s pretty rough looking. He quietly trots behind, grouchy and stoic, they fight closely together a lot. He lost his mom a long time ago to poachers, and peach took him in, and changed her whole life for him. Not many people know, but Booker was the reason she left the rangers, changed career, and got so strong. Will tolerate people petting him but isn’t keen at all, grumbles a lot and tries to move away.

You may also need to know about the others, for the sake of writing, she here a few more bits that may be important to you, or others wanting to do this.

Grey is very tall, very burly, composed, tells bad dad jokes, is a bit of a goof if allowed to be. If he sees a pun, he’ll say it. Can’t help himself. Very nice guy to work with, good at keeping people calm and grounded. Pokemon are drawn to him like a moth to a flame, he gives off warm energy, and has inhuman amounts of patience. If you wrong his family however, he will snap back.

He grew up in the city, loves to swim and hike and cycle, can snowboard, is really sporty. A total brain box with held items, and boosting stats. He will explore many paths, to make sure visitors and students get the information they need, in a way that can be remembered and retained for later. Is a huge guy, but will get on the floor to play with a tiny Pokemon. Treats big “meaner” looking species like babies, very good with all pokemon.

His free time is spent either tinkering, swimming, or trimming his bonsai trees. This guy stares at screens a lot, so appreciates time away from them. Peach built him his own little greenhouse for his trees and tools, which he keeps clean and loves dearly.

His methods as a teacher are built around fun and games, he makes hard work easier to do by distracting trainers from the difficult bits, and focusing in on something more interesting or compelling.

His most commonly seen Pokemon would be a houndoom, Saxon, old battle veteran, retired now to herding and being a good boy. Very gentle, loves a pet.

Pari, now a fully fledged nurse, often oversees the labs front desk and pokecentre features, such as healing pokemon, and informing trainers who come to visit. Her skills with eggs and hatchlings is high, she’s great with younger Pokemon, and hands out good advice to trainers a lot. She’s not a fighter, never was, but can find any file, any study, any book, and any refrence you may need. A true bookworm, loves her romance novels, chat shows and upbeat celebrity gossip mags. Will cry at a lot of stuff, be it sad or happy.

She’s got a seriously upbeat personality, but if caught off guard or shocked, she gets a little flustered. Too much chaos will overwhelm her, but usually she’s on top of things. The years spent on the island have made her better at maintaining composure in emergencies. With lots of siblings, she’s very competent with others, and has a good ability to disarm cagey people with her jolly nature. Because of this, she can sometimes gain information from trainers that some of the more harsh professors may not have access to. Charming is a word for it.

Her partners are an eevee, and a happiny. They are quite sweet and well adjusted, the eevee gets a bit bouncy if you get it too excited.

[disasterofastory]

Serve him (Uhtred x Reader)

Serve him Uhtred x Reader Warnings: porn without plot

Y/N finds Uhtred in his bedroom.

You moved to Coccham when you were a little child. Your father started working as a farmer, and you roamed the streets with your friends until your parents decided you are old enough to work and help them out financially. At first, you worked on the lands, and as you grew, you assisted at the market for payment. You got to know every corner and building in the small village. When you came of age, you started working in the Great Hall as a kitchen-maid, and you worked your way for better jobs under the Lords who come and gone when they found out Coccham is in trouble and they couldn’t help it.

When Uhtred of Bebbanburg came to the small village, you were uncertain about the Dane. You heard stories about his people, and you walked on eggshells for months till you made sure he is a good man. He treated his men and women kindly and fairly. He never shouted at you or ordered you around like a dog. You got used to his routines and habits, and you learned to live with each other.

The sun is long gone from the sky as you make your way to your room. The hallways are lit with candles, their flame dances as you walk past them. Your legs hurt from today’s work, and you can’t wait to wash yourself off before you go to bed. Your hair is messy, and your plain dress is wrinkled. Your steps sound loud in the silence. “Y/N,” You hear your name suddenly from your Lord’s room. His voice is muffled by the huge wooden door.  You stop in front of it, listening into the night till you hear your name again repeatedly. “Y/N!” You jump at his tone, opening the door hurriedly, afraid it’s something important or urgent.

Uhtred lays on the bed among the furs. The white tunic he wore today is abandoned on the floor not far from him while his pants are pulled down to his thighs. His muscles flexed under his pale skin, and the veins of his neck visible as his head leaned back against the pillows.

You gasp at the sight, stepping back to the walls. At the sudden sound, Uhtred’s head snaps up, looking straight into your eyes. His foggy gaze burns your skin as he watches you. “I’m so sorry,” you start panicked. “I heard my name, but I didn’t know…” Your gaze goes down on his body till you reach his hands on his manhood. He is hard and swollen, his slickness shines under the dim lights, and you gulp as you look up to the ceiling. “Y/N,” he repeats your name without shame. His voice is hoarse and loud enough to make you look at him again. His hand still moves up and down on his cock, watching your reaction without blinking. “Lord?” You say his name back, waiting for something. Anything. You should run away, go to your room and forget everything but the burning feeling in your stomach doesn’t let you move. You rub your thighs together to lessen the pressure. “Come here,” he says, but his voice doesn’t sound like an order. He gives you a chance to say no to him, to go away without the fear of the consequences.

Your body moves on its own accord. You close the door behind you, stepping closer and closer to the man who reaches out his hand to help you into the bed. His hand burns your skin as he pets up to your arm, guiding you on top of him. Your thighs shake under your weight, his manhood lays before you on his stomach. “Have you ever been with a man before?” He asks, pushing your dress up on your legs, helping you out of the fabric. You take a deep breath as you get free from your clothes, your breasts pushed out under his wanting gaze. “Yes,” you answer, dropping the dress to the floor. “And with a Dane?” He smirks, petting your thighs. “No,” you shake your head, fidgeting above him. “You will enjoy it,” he promises, sitting up to get closer to you.

One of his arms goes around your waist, pulling you to his embrace. Your breasts are pressed against his chest. His free hand roams your side from your hip to your shoulder. He looks at you in awe and desire. You lean in, grabbing his shoulder and his long hair to get what you want from him. Uhtred reciprocates your kiss with fervor. His tongue slips into your mouth, conquering you with his every move. Your hips start to move without your noticing, but he feels it and can’t help but smirk into the kiss. “Kneel at the edge of the bed,” he says, letting you go. While you move to the edge, he stands up, pulling down his pants to get naked. You are flustered under his eyes. You are exposed to him like to no one before. He can see your slickness as you spread your legs, bending down to the furs till you feel the covers on your burning skin. “Good girl,” he hums, kneeling down behind you. His palms seem huge on your thighs as he caresses you. His hot breath fans over your waiting folds, and soon you can feel his tongue in your pussy. He devours you with passion. You moan his name into the blankets, rocking yourself back and forth into his face.

Your orgasm comes vehemently. White stars burst under your eyelids as your body jerks forward from the man's tongue. You are sure your skin will be bruised from his hold on your hips to keep you in place. “Stay like this,” he says, helping you lay down on your stomach. He doesn’t give you time to recover. You already feel him above you, placing himself between your legs. For long minutes he just plays at your entrance, teasing you and himself too. “Please,” you plead impatiently. Your voice is muffled because of the furs. You raise your lower body to feel him, to entice him to push himself in you. “Ask nicely,” he says, continuing his merciless teasing. His cock moves up and down between your lips, coating you in his pre-cum. “Please, Lord,” you try again. “Please fuck me, My Lord!” “Yes,” he hisses, giving you what you want the most. He fills you up with one push. You moan at the feeling, grabbing anything you can to support yourself against his thrusts.

Uhtred's moves are ruthless above you. His chest pressed to your back, his lips nibble on your shoulder blade while you repeat his name over and over again. “Turn around,” he says impatiently, helping you into the right position under him. Your legs go around his waist, rocking against his thrusts. Your fingers tangled in his hair, your nails leave marks on his heated skin as your pleasure comes again with such a power it almost knocks you out. The scream dies on your throat, keeping him in you fully when you feel he tenses above you. “Y/N,” he groans your name into your neck, filling you with his seed. “My Lord,” you sigh dreamily, still dizzy from your orgasm. “You can come in anytime you want,” he jokes tiredly. His chest vibrates against yours. “I will.”

_____ Tags: @bailaycantaconmingo​

[traumxrei-archive]

quick shit post before i go to sleep,

i'm currently playing book 4 on my jp acc, and i'm literally playing the "try not to fall in love with jamil viper" challenge every two seconds. (the floating text on the side is the english translations in case anyone's wondering sjdjdn)

[ book 4 spoilers, jamil analysis, book 4 n 2 comparison, and bad pick up lines below the cut ! ]

like jfc, what are you doing you snake man ? tryna slither-in to my heart ? (bad joke, ik) i know that he's manipulating yuu but hey, you can manipulate me any day ahaha /j

dude when he's like "you'll help us out, right ?" in that VOICE of his. almost dropped my phone. like sir that is dangerous for the health of my heart. but also, yes, i'll help you out with whatever you need, let's make you housewarden, sorry kalim–

like man i haven't even gotten to the overblot part, and i know him acting this nice is fake but i can't help but like him. someone start playing clown music right now bc that's me, folks, the biggest clown in existence.

once again mentioning his voice bc i like it sm. and i have his lab sr on en, his voice lines are so funnyyy you bet ur ass i went to go listen to all his lines that i had unlocked. p pog of me, ik.

n then like his story. man. again i haven't gotten to the overblot, but ik him well enough to know that he's been throwing away everything and folding his own talents and achievements up so small and telling everyone they're insignificant, all to appease his family and live up to his responsibilities. and the control over his emotions too. living like that must be so exhausting. how numb must he have felt to make a plan like this to overthrow kalim ? they were friends once upon a time, but now their relationship's all twisted, tangled with half-truths and whole-trust, a spider web that will forever exist in some dark corner of his mind. i wonder, did he feel sick as he manipulated kalim ? did he ever want to stop, only for his resentment to fan flames of anger so big it burnt all his compassions away ? did he feel that intense satisfaction when he learned that everyone sided with him except for poor, innocent kalim who he could never be free from.

also does anyone else feel like book 4 is like. similar to book 2 but if book 2 was actually written well– the major plot is kinda the same, there's a person who's in power they want to overthrow. (malleus in magift/spelldrive vs kalim being housewarden) n the mastermind makes a plan so that they will get glory in the end. it's just the planning part that's different + how they got to their goals.

like jamil is rallying and using people's opinions in order to get to his goal. he makes use of his powers to manipulate kalim and make HIM the bad guy, since he knew public opinion on kalim wouldn't change overnight. to get what he wanted he bides his time and continues to build his own reputation whilst destroying kalim's. in the end, he adds fuel to the fire by making ppl believe that kalim's housewarden position was given to him bc of the al-asim name, making them all rally around him. which was so fucking badass and hot of him to do. he is gaslight gatekeep girlbossing all that shiz.

meanwhile leona. the base of the plan is v good, taking out players by injuring them would give them a bigger chance to win their games. but that last part ??? had me so confused ?? like wdym you're gonna make a stampede at the parade and run over the diasomnia players, that's so fucken stupid. and it doesn't make sense contextually bc leona's whole shtick is making spelldrive easier so that savanaclaw could win over diasomnia. but why tf would you ALSO injure malleus, its so counteractive since that was the last chance he had at beating them in a tournament.

n in octavinelle arc we CLEARLY see that leona's smart, so idk why he would choose such a dumb plan that would put malleus outta commission (he was literally advocating NOT to put him in the hall of fame.) if anything leona should've taken a page from jamil's book and made people hate malleus, whether by framing him for the accidents or starting rumors, or whatever. (n e ways enough abt leona dndjfjf)

also, it's so fucken funny seeing kalim's personality switch from nice to mean every two seconds. bc like he's being KMT (kalim maji tenshi aka kalim mega angel) n then the next second he's a broody angsty boy who yells at people for not raising an umbrella high enough over their own head. n i don't find his yelling voice scary at all :')))

but also. i find it so wholesome that the entirety of scarabia cares so much for kalim, so much so that they hesitate to abandon him because of all the good deeds he did for them. they accepted him even if he wasn't the best at careful planning like the sorcerer of sands. that moment when yuu was like "you love him too much to throw him away." i was about to bawl my figurative heart out. i wanna write more kalim but im so attrocious at writing his personality someone send help and prayers.

i wonder what'll happen next bc iirc i'm at chapter 4-20 (blaze it aha-) n if i'm not wrong there's supposed to be 4-40 sumn chapters ? also i'm not ready for his overblot hhhahhaha i think i'll cry when i see his story-

(it's like 3am ??? 4am ????? as im writing this so sorry for any grammatical errors ! ill fix it when i wake up lmao– edit: there was quite a few n i've fixed them noww)

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Illuminated, pt.2

Summary: Seeing an old friend isn’t always a happy occasion, but it can direct you to someone who undoubtedly makes your heart beat faster.

Warnings: talk of war and death, book spoilers

Part 1   

=================================

It felt strange to be walking the same halls she once revered. Y/N had barely grown at all since her time at Little Palace, if anything she'd claim she got shorter, but the walls didn't seem as intimidating as they used to.

Back then, she was just a clueless girl with dreams that turned into nightmares. The war had left deep wounds everywhere in Ravka and for that, Y/N would curse Alina Starkov's name until her dying breath.

Ravka trusted Alina to rescue them from the darkness, but she only expanded it. She fled from her responsibility and responded with force when General Kirigan asked for accountability.

Y/N was considered too young to be allowed in battle, sent away by the Darkling with children who have not yet mastered their particular branch of small science. Grisha a year older than her were given the chance to protect Ravka, something she wished she could have done. 

If it were up to her, she'd have stood by him instead of hiding.

Y/N had always been quite capable of controlling her power. Whether it be fire, wind or water, she held a firm grasp over all three elements with an iron fist and a terrifyingly sharp mind. She had developed attacks no one else is capable of, the kind that made other Grisha wary of her ferocity.

Naturally, she assumed that was why General Kirigan had called on her. The last thing she expected was to have the General, her King, admire the abominable blue flames she wields.

"Y/N?" A breathless reminder of a voice she once knew had stopped her in her tracks.

Looking over her shoulder, Y/N's lips break into a wide smile at the sight of her old friend and confidant.

She didn't waste time, running toward the girl who had fiery hair Y/N always wanted to have too. Colliding with Genya, Y/N couldn't stop a laugh that escaped her as she wrapped her arms around her much taller friend.

“I. Can’t. Breathe!” Genya manages to say between shallow, strained breaths. 

Chuckling, Y/N releases her from the death grip she calls a hug. She’s never been subtle in showing affection, or hate.

“I can’t believe it’s you!” Y/N exclaims, her attempt to quiet down failing before she even tries.

With a surprised smile set on her lips, Genya nods. “I didn’t realize you’d be at Little Palace.”

Faltering, Y/N licks her lips as her smile is erased. “You don’t seem too happy about that.”

“Little Palace isn’t exactly the safest place in Ravka anymore”, Genya musses.

Scoffing, Y/N furrows her eyebrows. “Alina made it unsafe.” Lifting her chin, Y/N continues, “The Darkling will protect us.”

Pursing her lips, Genya looks around carefully to ensure they’re alone. “That’s the problem. While he’s here, no one is safe.” Taking Y/N by the elbow, she pulls her aside toward the open window to help disguise their voices from any curious listeners. “Alina was our only hope of killing him.”

Ripping her arm away from Genya’s hold, Y/N narrows her eyes at the friend she once trusted more than anyone else in this world. When there was no hope, Genya put a smile on her face. Even when Y/N was losing herself, she had Genya to remind her of who she is.

She never doubted her friend, never questioned her loyalty or sanity. Until now. 

“Genya, who did you fight alongside with?” Y/N asks sharply, her lips forming a thin line.

“You don’t know the entire story”, Genya tries but Y/N steps away as if she’d been burned.

The war had made warriors from children for no matter how they tried to protect their innocence, war leaves no one untouched. When Alina Starkov decided to turn her back on Grisha, Y/N and many others have been forced to grow up far too quickly. No silly crushes or petty arguments mattered for the blood had reached them once Alina slaughtered Botkin in front of them. It was the only taste of war Y/N had for she had killed for the first time on that day. 

Alina is the reason she has blood on her hands.

“The story I do know is enough for me”, Y/N huffs as she shakes her head at Genya. “The fact our General did not kill you is proof of his generosity. Perhaps you should learn to appreciate him. Your precious Alina never showed such mercy.”

Turning her back on Genya, Y/N headed back. She didn’t want to explore the old corridors anymore, but to bathe and sleep. From tomorrow on, she’ll be working with Kirigan on her new ability and she didn’t want to display any reasons for him to distrust her.

She pauses as Genya speaks up.

“I wonder what will get you killed faster – your loyalty or stubbornness?”

Turning her head to the left, Y/N could see her old friend in her peripheral vision. “At least I’ll die for something I believe in. I’ll die for Ravka. Can you say the same?”

Fuming, Y/N tossed and turned in her bed. She turned the pillow to the colder side, she even tried turning her head on the opposite side of the headboard, but nothing could calm her mind or the itching to use her powers to blow off some steam.

The one part of herself she truly did connect with the Inferni was the temper she often got in trouble for. When Nina Zenik called her stupid, she burned off her eyebrows and Botkin forced her to wake up at the crack of dawn and do sprints for the next month as punishment. It’s probably the only time in her life she was truly in good form.

Grunting, she raised her legs and slammed them back on the mattress in frustration. Tossing the blanket off, she grabbed her blue kefta and left the room. 

Her footsteps echo the halls as she all but runs out, straight into the foggy morning air outside. The cold pinches her skin, her lips trembling for a moment before she sinks her front teeth into her bottom lip. Her breaths come in visible puffs of air as she wraps her arms around her middle while securing her hands under her armpits to stop herself from using her power that’s calling to her like the siren song calls sailors to their certain death.

Y/N always had the misfortune of wearing her heart on her sleeve with those she cares for. She also has a nasty tendency to either feel nothing or everything at once and when someone she loves turns out to be different than what she believed, it causes an uncontrollable explosion of emotion deep within.

“Is there a particular reason you’re outside at this ungodly hour?” A deep voice makes her gasp as she turns to look at the very person she most admires.

Raising her eyebrows, she nearly laughed as she realized the Darkling wore not his kefta, but the clothes he sleeps in. It’s loose clothing, black as his kefta and horse and yet it gives off a softness she did not realize a man as powerful as him could ever possess.

“I’d ask you the same, General”, she retorts with her eyebrows still raised as if she’s challenging him to come closer and make her stop ogling him.

For a moment, she thought he might turn away and leave as he stood there calmly. It feels as if he’s studying her, taking in every inch of her and committing it to memory. If it were any other man, Y/N would have spoken up or acted out to prevent the uncomfortable feeling of being watched so intimately, yet she didn’t want Kirigan to ever stop looking at her. If not for her fear of being too forward, she’d invite him closer.

As if he read her mind, Kirigan takes a step closer….and then another one. She can’t help but wonder what’s going through his mind. 

What does he see when he looks at her? 

How does she look in his eyes, because the way he’s looking at her now is taking her breath away?

He looks at her as if there is something worth looking at.

“Sometimes my mind turns on me”, he admits in a low, quiet tone that Y/N has to strain to hear him properly. “I’ve lived a long life and a longer one awaits me. My mind is full of ghosts that want retribution for what I did to them.”

Swallowing thickly, she straightens her back as she comes closer – close enough to feel his breath as it fans the hair at the top of her head.

“What did you do to them?”

The left corner of his lips twitches. “You’d think ill of me if I told you.”

Averting her gaze to his bare chest revealed by the wind as it pulled the fabric of his shirt, Y/N licks her lips. She argues with herself on her next move, wondering if it would be improper to touch the man who had been considered untouchable by everyone she ever met. Her fingers years to feel his skin under their tips, to slowly trail the jawline she wants to press her lips against.

Frowning softly, she bites her lower lip as she locks her eyes on his dark ones. Unlike many before her, she does not crumble under the weight of his heavy gaze. Her heart trembles as she reaches out and places her palm on his chest.

He didn’t expect her to touch him, tensing up. It’s surprising how warm her hand is, more so how inviting the warmth is. He’s hyper-aware of every breath he takes as his chest expands under her touch, hoping this incredibly brazen Grisha does not feel the way his heart jumps with the sudden surge of her bravery.

When he notices her lips move, he holds his breath as if the simple act of breathing could muffle her voice and make it harder for him to soak up the blind loyalty and love she holds for him.

“Who we are and who we need to be to survive are two different things. You’re not evil for choosing to protect yourself and your country. I could never think badly of you, General.”

It’s been a long time since he found someone so incredibly devoted to him and his cause, exhilarating him to the core. Alina had never truly believed in him for she always considered him wicked, but Y/N couldn’t be more different. Perhaps he’s right and this time it will work. 

With someone trusting as Y/N is, he can’t possibly fail again.

Letting her hand fall, Y/N looks away as she realizes she crossed the line and his silence is the easiest way for him to inform her of it. Truth be told, she wondered who was the last woman who got to lay her hand on his chest.

Was it Alina?

There were rumors of the relationship Kirigan and Alina supposedly had and Y/N always felt a pang of jealousy upon hearing the girls talk. She never knew him, she never truly had him and she never will, but the idea someone else does brought her pain.

Perhaps her overthinking or the increasingly awkward silence prompted her temper to speak instead of her brain.

"Did you love her?" Y/N blurts out. 

Her eyes widen as she realizes her thoughts have become vocal and in the presence of the very man she should be watching her mouth around.

"I apologize. It must be a difficult time to reminisce about." Maybe Nina was right – she is stupid!

"It is quite alright.” Darkling lets out an audibly heavy breath. “I did not love her, I trusted her. I trusted her enough to put all my hope for a better Ravka on her shoulders and she betrayed our country."

"No", she reaches out slowly, her hand finding its way to his as it gingerly grasps his fingers. "She betrayed you."

Smiling reluctantly, Kirigan finds himself wondering if he should embrace the fact Y/N seems to be a very touchy person or if he should set some boundaries. Despite the shiver that runs down his spine, he allows her hand to fully take his as he closes his fingers around hers.

"I should have seen it coming. I'm far too used to betrayal."

"I'd never do that", she pauses. "I'd never betray you. I'd never break your trust."

Her responses are quick, so innocent and naïve that he can’t help but feel guilty about every moment he spends near her. No one should send a doe eyed beauty into the clutches of a beast so easily, yet he has no desire to force her to leave.

"Don't make promises you can't keep."

Smiling, her entire face lights up. It’s a true delight to witness so early in the morning after a long night of nightmares he faced.

“Do not worry, General. I have every intention on proving myself to you.”

Glancing at their hands, her smile widens. She spent years wishing for this and now that it’s happening she can’t seem to believe it’s real.

“The sun will come up soon”, he changes the topic.

Y/N fears he might leave and her hand would be back at her side as she watches his retreating figure, but when he speaks again her heart dances in her chest.

“Would you like to watch the sunrise with me?”

Inhaling sharply, she nods. “Very much so.”

Unfortunately for them, someone else couldn’t sleep that night and they had seen just enough for a terrible plan to be born.

=================================

A/N - So, I’m definitely going to play with the books here and twist some things to fit the storyline I have in mind. There might be some spoilers, so read with caution. I debated on making more than a one shot for this and taking on some ideas I have for Darkling but also Nikolai, so I’m not sure how long this will be just yet. 

Tags: @deceivedeer​ @evyiione​ @measshaw​

Part 3

[chaozsilhouette]

Imprisoned yet Unshackled

I was so inspired by the large support my last post received, I was able to finish this scene in record time. One thing that was wedged into the back of my mind was, just how does one pass the time when you're trapped under a mountain for five hundred years? Here's my take on Sun Wukong's second imprisonment in @winterpower98's Swap Au. I hope I managed to capture the brilliant yet insane nature of the monkey tyrant.

_____________________________

Sun Wukong, the Great Sage Equal to Heaven, had to smile at his plight.

Once again he was trapped underneath a prison of magic and stone. Only this time the entrapment had not been orchestrated by the Buddha, but by his dearest beloved, a motley crew of demon rejects, and one despicable monk.

He should be infuriated. His rage should invoke the horrible sense the end of days had arrived. Heaven should tremble, Narakas should rush to defend its gates, but no. No, the Monkey King’s temper had cooled to a dangerous degree. Now he could smile and look back on his past with fondness.

Why?

Because he refused to be caught unaware twice.

He may not have been able to stop his imprisonment, but he was able to leave a little insurance for his release. His darling was wise to seal the mountain with the Ruyi Jingu Bang. The infamy of his trademark weapon would be more than enough to strike fear into the hearts of countless demons. Its immense weight prevented all, but the strongest from getting it to budge let alone lift it.

However, for the Handsome Monkey King, it would be a minor feat. Just before the seal was completed and the mountain crashed down, he created a hair clone and sent it out into the world in the appearance of a young human boy. He couldn’t have it mirror him or it would have been hunted down before it could free him. As a precaution, he sealed any memories the clone would have as being, ya know him.

During his time in hiding, he made many new alliances and took on countless servants, many of which joined him after they experienced a thorough humiliation by his darling. The only upside of that worthless journey was all the laughs he got after hearing about all the different demons his beloved trounced on the way.

Seriously, how could one monk keep falling for the same trick over and over again? Maybe Tripitaka enjoyed being abducted? Either way, he had faith that at least one would connect the dots if they knew what was good for them.

He had no doubt the entire Celestial Realm would act to create thousands of mystical and physical barriers to secure and hide the mountain. The villagers would spread tales of destruction and fear, but that would draw in as many as it would push away. Princess Iron Fan would no doubt lead the concealment project herself out of spite. Her husband would personally engage the weaker demons in a fruitless attempt to lessen his fury.

Hehe, the poor demon couple.

Once the heads of a rising court no one would ever dare cross, reduced to celestial dogs as they mourned the loss of their son. The screams of the Demon Bull family curled his toes in the most delightful ways as he forced them to watch their precious matchstick collapse under the fury of his own flames. Unfortunately, the mountain was sealed before he could witness Red Boy’s demise by the True Fire of Samadhi, but even if he survived no one could walk away from that unscathed.

It would take time for his clone to remove the staff, leaving him little to do but think. What else was he going to do trapped under another mountain? This time, not even his face was free to take in the fresh air or watch the stars. He had forgotten how spiteful his darling could be.

They would work on that once he was freed.

Sun Wokong acted too rashly, he could admit that now. He had spent so much time away from his beloved, confident in his capabilities that he failed to account for other dangers. He underestimated Guanyin’s monk. This mortal was the one expected to teach him humility, how could he expect his darling Macaque to survive unaffected.

He thought back to the simple days on Flower Fruit Mountain after Macaque had accepted his invitation to live with him. When it was just the two of them against the world. Their days were filled with training, experimenting with their powers, and making quick trips to scare humans and demons alike. Sun could still picture the easy smile that would grace his beloved’s face after a fulfilling day or whenever he groomed that silky mane.

The playful chirps and growls of the other monkeys filled the background as they went about their normal lives. He watched with pride as families grew and newborns matured into colorful pranksters all their own. Each generation instinctually knew who he was and learned to give him respect, but he didn’t mind them crossing a few lines. What kind of leader would he be if he discouraged what made him happy?

Anytime hunters or an upstart demon attempted to set foot on his mountain, Wukong and Macaque would switch guardian duty. While he definitely enjoyed killing any idiot who dared to intrude upon his territory, watching his beloved slaughter in his name brought him even more pleasure. Unlike his personal tastes of crushing his opponent’s skull after ripping off their limbs, his beloved took a more surgical approach. Delicately Macaque would toy with his prey, methodically tearing apart their physical strength and their sanity, until nothing was left but a pitiful husk who begged for death.

Ah, each one of those performances was nothing less than pure poetry all designed for him.

He wanted that back. He wanted all of those pleasures back and more! And he would get them. Once he was freed, he would find his wayward beloved and undo all the damage Tripitaka did. Macaque would be reminded of their ambition to conquer. But more than anything he would remember who he belonged to.

Fortunately, neither of them was in any danger of dying. During his little stay in the Celestial Realm, he saved a couple of souvenirs. A peach of immortality, a bottle of heavenly wine, and a gourd of pills from Loa Tzu’s lab; each capable of granting the consumer immortality and combined with the safeguards they had already taken.

Macaque had become just as much a fundamental part of reality as himself. He didn’t even have to lie. Despite Macaque being concerned for the consequences of his actions, the six-eared immortal couldn’t help but kneel over laughing as Wukong mimicked the expressions of his celestial servants whenever they tried to ask something of him. Wukong looked on in adoration as his mate indulged in the bounty of the Celestial Realm, tying their futures together until time itself ceased to exist.

It did not matter how long it took. The seal would be broken and all of creation would know fear. Time held no meaning for him. He could afford to be patient.