#i used to be scared of the dark but god it's so peaceful. especially if it's windy too

[slu7formen]

Girl first of all I want to say that I'm OBSESSED with your writing I love it.

Second of all I would like to make a request about Luke so hear me out.

Luke and reader were in a relationship before he betrayed camp and they were head over heals for each other and then he stole the bolt and when Percy discovers he's the thief the reader is there feeling betrayed and specially heartbroken even though Luke ask her to go with him but she doesn't accept it because she's so loyal to camp and her friends.

Time passed and even if she wants to hate Luke she loves him more than anything. And Luke loves her too so instead of asking Annabeth to escape with him he asks reader and she accepts.

I want to see everything in here fluff, angst, everything you think about.

I hope you like this request and make it real for me because I've been having this idea for over a week.

Okay but I feel so bad ‘cause I totally forgot I had this story FULLY WRITTEN and READY to be published (‘cause I LOVED it), I’m so sorry angel, made you wait a lot more than just a week 🥺, but thanks for reading my stories <3

MDNI. luke castellan x fem!reader

warnings: luke´s a traitor, betrayal, use of yn, swearing, kinda angst (?, KISSING, lil book spoiler

₊˚⊹♡

The crackle and pop of the bonfire filled the air, a comforting contrast to the vibrant bursts of color exploding overhead. The annual fireworks display was in full swing, casting shadows on the faces of your friends huddled around the warm flames. It was a picture of peace, a moment of respite amidst the constant threat of monsters demigod drama.

You stole a glance at the empty space beside you. Luke, your boyfriend, had told you he'd just be back in a minute. A few minutes had turned into an eternity, but you chalked it up to his usual impulsiveness. He'd be back any minute, with his signature smile and an arm wrapped around you.

You knew it.

From the moment you met, you and Luke had been inseparable. You were his confidante, his anchor in the chaos of being a demigod and his messy life. He was your rock, always there to make you laugh, to understand the weight of your heritage in a way no one else could.

The warmth of the fire danced on your skin, but a shiver snaked down your spine. Something felt off. The chatter of your friends seemed muted, replaced by a dull ache in your chest. You couldn’t deny the way you noticed how Luke has been acting lately. So weird and distant towards you the last couple days. You loved him, fiercely and unconditionally. You'd been there for him through thick and thin, especially after his quest left a jagged scar across his cheek and a hollowness in his eyes.

But then he suddenly just, snapped.

A memory surfaced in you , sharp and unwelcome. It had been months ago, a conversation in the darkness of his cabin in a particular cold night. Luke, his eyes filled with a desperate fervor, had confessed his anger towards the gods, his belief that they were cruel and neglectful parents. He'd spoken of tricking the Olympians, joining forces with the Titans to fight for a better life for all demigods.

The anger in his voice, the glint of rebellion in his eyes, had scared you. The scar on his face, a reminder of his failed quest, seemed to burn brighter that night.

You understood his anger. The gods were far from perfect, their neglect and cruelty evident in countless demigod lives. He'd begged you to join him, his voice filled with a desperate hope. But you'd refused, your loyalty to Camp Half-Blood and your friends unwavering. You had spent hours talking him through it as you held his hand, reminding him of all the good the gods had done, no matter how flawed they might be. He'd looked lost at the time, seeking comfort in your touch. You'd thought you'd reached him, extinguished that spark of rebellion.

You really believed that conversation was long forgotten. But there was a reason why you remembered it.

Some movement at the edge of the woods caught your eye. But it wasn't the boy you were expecting. Percy, his face pale and etched with worry, practically stumbled into the fireplace, his chest heaving and his grip tight on Riptide.

A pang of concern shot through you. "Percy?" you called out, concern lacing your voice. You pushed yourself off the ground, walking towards him. "What happened? Where's Luke?"

Percy hesitated, his eyes filled with a storm of emotions. Shit, should he tell you? His silence was a hammer blow to your gut. You knew, with a chilling certainty, that something was terribly wrong.

"What?" you choked out, the question barely a whisper, expecting some kind of answer from the blonde boy, but nothing came from his trembling lips. The air felt dense, with a truth you desperately wanted to deny. You saw Luke getting into the woods with Percy, you saw it. And now, he was nowhere to be seen.

Then, it clicked. A cold, horrifying truth began to dawn on you.

He lied.

Without a word, you pushed Percy aside and started running, towards the woods. Your heart hammered against your ribs, like a trapped bird desperate to escape. You plunged into the darkness of the forest, the path you'd walked countless times with Luke now leading you into the unknown.

"Luke!" you screamed, your voice raw with anger and despair. You wove through the trees, the undergrowth tearing at your camp shirt, but you didn't care. You had to find him, to confront him, to understand why he'd chosen this path, if he chose it, why he'd lied to you.

But with each passing minute, hope crashed over you. The forest grew denser, the silence broken only by the rustle of leaves and the frantic beat of your own heart. There was no sign of Luke, no echo of his footsteps, no smell, no sense of his presence, only the chilling truth hanging heavy in the air.

He was gone.

He had left.

You sank to your knees, the weight of betrayal crushing you as the first tears you ever cried for Luke Castellan, started to fall. The man you loved, the person you'd trusted with your life, had chosen darkness over everything you held dear. He had chosen Kronos over you.

Grief, a cold and relentless serpent, coiled around your heart. And that feeling never seemed to leave.

The year that followed was a blur of sadness and a desperate attempt at normalcy. The silence from Luke was deafening. Not a single Iris-message, not a single sign of the one who once, was your boyfriend.

You knew you wouldn´t be able to return to Camp, at least not for now. Every corner held a ghost of Luke's smile, every sword clang a reminder of his battles and his betrayal. Your friends, the true ones, bless their hearts, tried everything to cheer you up from a distance, but their efforts felt like trying to pick up the pieces of a broken glass in the sea.

You opted to stay home that summer. But even there, away from the prying eyes and hushed whispers, escape from Luke's betrayal seemed impossible. Messages and news found you no matter where you hid. News of Luke leading a rogue army aboard a stolen cruise ship, rumors of him serving as Kronos's right hand while the Titan slumbered – it all reached your ears.

The nights were the worst. The darkness mirrored the hollowness within you. Tears would stain your pillow as you relived the events leading up to his betrayal. You once seemed to dream about seeing him again, and now you only screamed when you saw his face in your nightmares.

The memory of his touch, the warmth of his smile, the nights you spent loving each other with the sheets tangling in your legs, all felt like cruel illusions now. Yet, a part of you, a stubborn, illogical part, still clung to the love you once shared.

And Gods, did you try to keep yourself as busy as possible. You threw yourself into your studies and little courses here and there, seeking solace in facts and logic. You even began working, a boring but well payed summer job. Yet, the pain lingered, a dull ache that refused to subside.

The more you tried to banish these visions, the more vivid they became. You missed him like a starving man craved a feast, a yearning that gnawed at your insides and threatened to consume you. Frustration gnawed at you. How could you still love someone who'd betrayed you so utterly? How could your heart still ache for a man who chose war over you? The questions echoed endlessly within you, a relentless chorus fueling your self-conscious.

How could you be so weak?

These consuming questions were your companions for a whole year. But as the second summer after Luke's betrayal rolled around, a shift occurred within you. The raw, agonizing pain began to dull, replaced by a quiet resolve.

Finally, you decided it was time to take back control again. Camp Half-Blood called, a familiar haven among the storm. You returned a changed person. The vibrant smile that once adorned your face was a ghost, replaced by a guarded expression that spoke about the pain you harbored in silence. The camp's familiar energy felt hollow, a constant reminder of the happiness you'd lost.

Training became your sole solace. You'd disappear into the arena for hours, your celestial bronze sword a blur as you cleaved through training dummies, each swing fueled by a potent cocktail of grief and anger.

Exhaustion became your closest companion too. You pushed yourself to the limits of your endurance, hoping to find oblivion at the bottom of an empty fuel tank. But sleep, when it finally came, offered no escape. You'd dream of him, leading his army of rogue demigods, his eyes filled with a fanatical zeal that chilled you to the bone. And in those dreams, you'd see yourself, standing beside him, not out of loyalty to his cause, but out of a desperate yearning for the boy you once loved, still love.

In the quiet moments, when your friends weren't around, the dam would break. You'd collapse onto your cool and empty bed, tears streaming down your face, a raw, primal sob escaping your lips. The memory of Luke was no joy anymore, it haunted you like a specter.

You hated yourself for the traitorous flicker in your heart, the desperate, illogical yearning for him. It wasn't the war that tempted you; it was him.

You hated how much you missed him.

The scent of rain clung to the humid night air and to you like a second skin as you zipped up your duffel bag. Another summer at Camp Half-Blood loomed, promising a bittersweet mix of nostalgia and pain, but more training. The worst was yet to come, so you needed to be ready.

New York City, with its cacophony of car horns and the anonymity of millions, had become your refuge these past few months. In Manhattan, the memories of Luke seemed to hold less power for some weird reason, their edges dulling with the passage of time. You'd spent the past months in this tiny apartment, the silence deafening compared to the constant hum of life at camp.

Just then, a sharp rap on the door shattered the silence of your apartment. It was past midnight, an unusual time for visitors.

Adrenaline surged through you. Months of living fully alone had honed your senses. You'd become acutely aware of the city's underbelly – the flickering shadows that could hide monsters thanks to the ever-present mist. You'd seen them stalking the streets, stalking you, their true forms hidden to them mortals, an unsettling feeling crawling up your spine whenever their paths crossed yours. They never attacked, but their chilling presence followed you like a phantom.

Grabbing your necklace, you asked, "Yes?"

Silence. You weren't taking any chances. Pulling down at the pendant once, the necklace morphed into your celestial bronze dagger.

You took a step, two. Could it really be a monster? Could it really be some creature trying to get to you, by knocking on the door? With a shaky breath, you cracked the door open just enough to peek through the gap, hiding the dagger behind your back.

The sight that greeted you stole the air from your lungs.

Standing on your doorstep, bathed in the harsh glow of the hallway light, was Luke. His dark hair was windswept, his face etched with a gauntness that hadn't been there before, but his eyes – those were the same eyes that had haunted your dreams for months. They held a desperate plea, a flicker of the boy you once loved struggling to break through the hardened shell of the man he'd become.

“Luke?”

The silence stretched between you, thick with unspoken words and a tangled web of emotions. Time seemed to warp in that hallway, a single moment stretched into an eternity. Luke looked different, yes. The carefree boy you knew had been replaced by a man hardened by experience, his features etched with lines that spoke of battles fought and burdens carried. But his eyes, those brown eyes that had once held a mischievous twinkle, now held a deeper sadness that mirrored your own.

"Hi" Luke finally said, his voice raspy.

You stood speechless, the dagger still clutched tightly in your hand. Years of longing warred with the fresh wounds of betrayal. You wanted to scream at him, to unleash the torrent of hurt and anger that suddenly washed over you. But something held you back, a flicker of curiosity, maybe.

"Um, can I come in?" he continued, his posture pleading despite his attempt at nonchalance.

Jesus. Was that all he had to say? After everything, after what he did, all he could muster was a request to enter your apartment? A tide of anger threatened to drown you. Did he not understand the gravity of what he'd done? Did he not realize the pain he'd caused? But you forced your thoughts down. You weren't a child anymore, throwing tantrums wouldn't solve anything.

"Are you armed?" you asked, your voice flat, devoid of any warmth.

Luke flinched at your question, a flicker of pain crossing his features. "You think I wanna hurt you?" he countered, his tone defensive.

"Last time I saw you," you spat back, your voice laced with bitterness, "was three years ago, and I know your little monsters are keeping an eye on me. The first thing I'm supposed to think about is whether you want to hurt me or not."

He sighed, a long, weary exhale. Unzipping his jacket, he turned slowly, patting down his pockets before turning back to you. His eyes, once alive with mischief and love, were now filled with a desperate sincerity. "See? No weapons. Just me."

You studied him, a battle raging within you. One part of you wanted to slam the door, to let him know that he wasn't welcome. Yet, another part, a smaller, more vulnerable part, couldn't help but cling to the flicker of hope that flickered amongst the ashes of your love.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, you stepped aside, allowing a sliver of space for him to enter. "Fine" you said, your voice devoid of warmth. "But you better have a good reason to come here"

Luke hesitated for a beat before stepping inside. He closed the door softly behind him, the sound echoing through the tense silence. He stood there awkwardly with his hands in his pockets, his eyes scanning the room, landing finally on the packed bags besides the tv.

"You're heading back to camp?" he asked.

You flipped the dagger in your hand, and the celestial bronze morphed back into the golden necklace. "What do you want?" you repeated, your voice still sharp, a shield against the emotions swirling within you.

Luke stood awkwardly in the doorway, the once carefree boy replaced by a man burdened by the weight of his choices. His leather jacket seemed to hang heavy on his broad shoulders.

"I…" he started, then stopped, seemingly unsure how to proceed. He cleared his throat, the sound scratchy and unfamiliar. "You look different" he finally managed, the words tumbling out awkwardly.

You scoffed, a humorless sound that surprised even you.

"Look, yn" he finally managed, his voice barely above a whisper, "I wanna talk, okay? I know what I did was wrong. I know I hurt you."

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. "You could say that again."

His fingers twitched at your bitterness, but pressed on. "I came here because..." He hesitated again, seemingly wrestling with an inner turmoil. "Because I-"

Frustration bubbled up within you. This cryptic approach, this lack of honesty, it was infuriating. "Because you what, Luke?" you demanded, your voice laced with a sharp edge. "Because you decided to grace me with your presence after leading a rebellion against the gods? Or maybe because you just wanted to see if I'm still waiting for you?"

You watched his face harden, the vulnerability replaced by a familiar defiance.

"Don't twist this" he snapped, his voice firm. "I came here because..." He took a deep breath, his eyes locking with yours. "Because I miss you, yn. I miss us."

The air crackled with a tension so thick you could almost taste it.

You took a slow step towards him, then another. He took notes of yourself as you did. The way you had grown internally was so intense that he could sense it everywhere. He might have betrayed you, but that only helped you get on your feet stronger, grow stronger. Become the warrior he always knew you were.

Then, in a move as instinctive as it was fierce, your hand lashed out. The slap connected with a stinging crack, the sound echoing through the apartment like a thunderclap. Luke's head snapped to the side, a crimson handprint blooming on his cheek. Shame flickered in his eyes as he scoffed, quickly replaced by a dull acceptance.

He deserved it, that much was clear.

"How dare you?” you spat, your voice shaking with barely controlled fury, "How fucking dare you come back here after what you've done? After leading a rebellion against the gods, after putting everyone we care about at risk? After betraying me?"

Luke took a shaky breath, running a hand over the burning mark on his face. "I'm sorry” he said, his voice low and ragged. "I'm so sorry. I know I hurt you, and I know a simple apology won't erase the pain or fix things. But you have to believe me, I never meant for things to get this bad"

He stepped towards you, his hands outstretched in a placating gesture, but you flinched back, the space between you a tangible barrier. "Don't touch me" you warned, your voice laced with ice.

He lowered his hands, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

“I know you hate me for what I´ve done. For joining Kronos, I-“

"You think this is all about Kronos?" you cut him off, your voice shaking with barely contained fury. "You think the reason my heart has been broken these past years is because you joined a fucking Titan?"

Luke remained silent, the weight of your words pressing down on him like a collapsing mountain. He knew better.

"This is about what you did to me, Luke" you choked out, tears welling in your eyes. "I was with you, all the time. I was your girlfriend! And you betrayed me. You left me alone” your voice broke so hard that you had to take a second to swallow the big gulp that was forming in your throat. “Everyone at camp looked at me after what you did," you choked out. "They either felt sorry for me, or they insulted me, saying that I was still loyal to you, that I was a traitor."

You closed your eyes for a moment, the pain etched on your face a stark reminder of the devastation he'd wrought. "You were the most important person in my life" you cried, your voice raw and vulnerable. "But you? You let Kronos fill your head with empty promises, and just like that, you forgot about us."

The truth felt like a bitter pill to swallow. He opened his mouth to speak.

"I asked you to come with me" he finally whispered, his voice thick with regret. "I gave you the chance to leave with me."

"And even after I said no," you countered, your voice trembling like the finger that was now pointing at his chest, "you still left. You threw me away like shit. And do you know what the worst part is?" Tears streamed down your face, tracing a path through the dust of old heartache. "That as much as I try, I can't seem to hate you."

A sob escaped your lips, shattering the fragile dam you'd built around your emotions. "I still love you, Luke" you confessed. "Even though it's a love that fills me with pain, it's still there. I hate myself because I dream about you, about the way things used to be. But when I don't, I feel like a piece of me is missing."

You looked up at him, your eyes brimming with tears and a raw vulnerability that left Luke speechless.

What had he done?

"I hate myself because I can't help but pray for your safety, even though you never seemed to care about mine. I hate myself because even after everything, I still love you, Luke."

Your heart felt like a shattered kaleidoscope, a million shards of love, anger, and pain reflecting back at you in a distorted reality. You walked and sank onto the couch, burying your face in your hands as sobs racked your body.

Luke, his heart heavy with a remorse sharper than any weapon, watched you crumble. The carefree girl he fell in love with was gone, replaced by a woman etched with the scars of his own actions. Hesitantly, he reached out, placing a hand on your back as he sat down next to you, a gesture of comfort that felt more like a branding iron on his guilt.

"yn” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, "I still love you too."

You didn't respond, the sobs coming in ragged gasps as your body struggled to contain the storm within.

"I know I left you" he continued, his voice cracking slightly. "And you didn't deserve it. But… I was so lost, so angry. Kronos promised me power, a solution to all the problems I saw. He convinced me that Olympus was corrupt, that the gods didn't care about half-bloods like us. And when you said no, he-, he told me to leave you behind, said that it would be easier for everyone…"

His voice trailed off. Easier for who? Easier for him, perhaps, to sever the ties that bound him, to plunge headfirst into a rebellion fueled by manipulated ideals.

"But it wasn't" he choked out, a tear escaping his eye, carving a glistening path down his cheek. "Every day, every step I took… it was a constant reminder of what I'd lost. The guilt was eating me alive, yn, you have to believe me”. His hands desperately reached for yours, trying to get your fingers to intertwine by placing his over yours.

Tears welled up in his own eyes. "I regret everything. I mean it. I don't want to do this anymore."

You finally lifted your head, your eyes red-rimmed and brimming with unshed tears. Luke looked different to you now, the bravado and arrogance gone, replaced by a vulnerability that mirrored your own.

"Don't want to do what?" you asked, your voice hoarse.

"This” he gestured vaguely to himself, but you didn’t quite catch it. "Following Kronos. Helping him rise to power. It's wrong. I can see that now."

“Little late to that, isn’t it?” you blurted out.

He took a deep breath, his expression resolute. "yn, there's a reason I came to you. A reason I risked Kronos' trust in me." He paused, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Kronos wants me to become his host."

And the world seemed to suddenly stop. You stared at him, the weight of his words sinking in. Your mind raced, trying to process what he had just said. Luke, your Luke, becoming a vessel for the monstrous Titan?

"What?" you croaked, fear coating your voice like frost. Your eyes darted around, searching for a way out, a solution, anything. But Luke wouldn't meet your gaze, his jaw clenched tight, a storm of emotions brewing beneath the surface. "No. No, he can't. It's not possible."

The thought of him, Luke, being consumed by Kronos, twisted your insides into knots.

Luke, however, seemed to gather his resolve. "Yes, it is" he said, his voice low and strained. "There are things you don't know, yn. Things I've done."

A cold dread gripped your stomach, a physical manifestation of the terror that clawed at your insides. Your mind raced, desperate for answers. "Then tell me" you only managed to say. "Luke, what have you done?"

He hesitated, looking around as if afraid someone might be listening. "There's no time now" he finally said, his voice tight with urgency. "But I promise I will explain everything. That's not why I'm here."

Taking a deep breath, he dared to reach out, his hand gently grasping yours, finally. The warmth of his touch sent a jolt through you, a stark contrast to the chilling fear that gripped you.

He called your name, his voice softening. "Come with me" he said.

You only feel capable of frowning your brows in confusion. "Go where?" you asked, your voice wary.

"Anywhere" he said, like a plea. "Let's run away, together. It can be just you and me again"

He leaned closer, the air around him crackling with a tension that mirrored the storm within you. As his forehead rested against yours, a jolt of electricity shot through you. It was a familiar warmth, a spark that had ignited countless stolen kisses and whispered secrets back when your world wasn't teetering on the brink of war. His other hand cupped your cheek, the touch a stark contrast to the turmoil raging inside you. His hand, usually warm and comforting, felt cool against your burning skin, a physical reminder of the distance that had grown between you. Yet, despite the chill, a wave of longing washed over you, a yearning for the simple comfort of his touch.

But reason tugged at you, a voice of caution in the midst of the storm. "But Luke," you stammered, pulling away slightly, "If you escape, Kronos will come for you. He'll come for us, and-,"

"I don't care" he interrupted, his voice resolute, yet laced with a tremor that betrayed his bravado. It was as if he was on the precipice, teetering between defiance and the vulnerability of a man on the verge of breaking. "I'll fight everything that comes for us. And if the war happens... I'll fight. I'll fight for everyone, I’ll fight for you. I'm not losing you again, yn."

His words resonated deep within you, a desperate echo of the love you still harbored for him, a love you thought you'd buried beneath layers of anger and sadness. You saw the fear in his eyes, a fear that you sadly shared, but beneath it, a flicker of something else – a raw, desperate hope. And as you looked at him, a wave of relief washed over you.

The relief of knowing he wasn't entirely lost, that a part of the Luke you loved still existed.

"I love you" he confessed again, his voice trembling.

Looking into his eyes, a storm of emotions swirling within them, the truth resonated with you. "I love you too" you whispered, the words tumbling from your lips like a long-awaited confession.

The world did indeed, stop. The rain, a relentless symphony against the window pane, faded into a distant murmur. The thunders became a muffled echo. In that moment, the only reality was the space between you and Luke, charged with the unspoken electricity of your confessions.

He leaned in further, a hesitant question in his eyes. A flicker of fear danced in their depths, a scared boy seeking forgiveness beneath the warrior's facade. You watched him, a bittersweet ache blooming in your chest.

With a sigh that trembled on your lips, you closed the distance. Your lips met in a hesitant touch, a tentative exploration of a forgotten familiarity. Three years of longing, of unspoken words and simmering emotions, poured into that kiss. It was sweeter than you'd dared to imagine, a warmth that spread from your lips and drizzled down your chest.

Unlike the passionate encounters of your past, this felt different; like kissing him for the first time. Luke's lips moved against yours with a reverence that sent shivers down your spine. He held back, his desperate desire tempered with a respect that surprised you. You knew him.

But then, you yielded. Your lips parted, a silent invitation, and his tongue met yours in a dance as old as time. A full, heavy and angry thunderclap erupted outside, a jarring contrast to the intimacy unfolding on the couch. But you paid it no mind, lost in the whirlpool of rediscovered affection.

Your arms encircled his neck, a desperate hold. He, in turn, cupped your waist, his touch lingering on the curve of your hip as he gently lowered you onto the soft cushion. His body hovered above yours. His lips, however, remained glued to yours, a relentless exploration that spoke of a love both fierce and fragile.

The kiss deepened, a slow burn that threatened to consume you both. You felt the familiar rhythm of his heart against yours, a counterpoint to the frantic beat of your own. It was a melody of second chances, of unspoken apologies and nascent hope.

His hand trailed down your back, teasingly brushing under your shirt, sending shivers dancing across your skin. You arched into his touch, a wordless plea for more. But just then, he pulled away, his breath ragged, his eyes a storm of conflicting emotions.

His voice, a husky murmur against your skin, sent shivers down your spine. "I missed this so much," he whispered, his lips trailing down the delicate column of your neck and the dip of your collarbone. His warm breath mingled with your own, a heady mix of emotions swirling around you.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, the familiar texture a stark reminder of the past you both desperately clung to. He reached for your pulse, slowly sucking in before letting it pop.

"I wanted to feel you every night" he confessed. "Every night, I dreamt of you." His words were a stark contrast to the cold, distant Luke you saw in your dreams, the only vivid memory you’ve had of him the past years.

"Luke" you whispered, your voice barely audible as you tried to speak.

He didn't stop. His hand drifted down your torso, his fingers brushing against the exposed skin of your lower tummy. Every touch felt like a brand, a searing reminder of what you had lost and the uncertainty that lay ahead.

"It was a mistake" he said, his voice thick with regret. "A big, fucking mistake. Leaving you, betraying you-, it was the biggest mistake of my life. My life doesn't make any sense without you."

With a strangled sound, Luke deepened the kiss, his lips moving against yours with a desperation that mirrored your own. You clung to him, a drowning sailor grasping at a lifeline. The scent of leather that clung to him was intoxicating, a familiar anchor in this storm of emotions.

"Luke" you managed to gasp between kisses, a flicker of reason breaking through the haze of desire. You needed more than just words, needed a binding promise, something concrete to hold onto if you were to take this leap of faith.

He stared at you, his eyes a storm of emotions – desire, confusion, and a flicker of something that might have been annoyance. But before he could respond, you pressed on.

"Swear on it, Luke" you whispered, your voice trembling slightly. "Swear on the River Styx” you repeat. Luke’s eyes dart back and forth, from your lips, to your eyes, to filling up with confusion. “I’m not-,” you cut yourself off as you feel your eyes filling with tears again. You bit your tongue before speaking, “I’m not letting you hurt me like this again"

You knew it was selfish, a desperate attempt to safeguard your heart. But Luke was here, finally, after all this time. You craved the warmth of his touch, the comfort of his presence. The thought of letting him go again, of enduring another betrayal, was unbearable. Yet, a part of you, still scarred from the past, craved a guarantee, an oath sworn on the most powerful river in the Underworld. It was dangerous, yes, but did you care?

Did he care?

Luke's expression hardened. The River Styx, held a weight that couldn't be ignored. The river he already bathed himself in. It was a binding vow, a promise etched in the very fabric of existence.

He looked at you, his eyes searching yours for a flicker of doubt, a hint of manipulation. But all he saw was the vulnerability, the fear – a vulnerability born from the scars he himself had inflicted.

"I swear on the River Styx" he said, his voice low and solemn, each word heavy with the weight of the oath. "I swear I won’t ever leave you. I swear I love you. I swear I'll fight for you, for us, with every breath in my lungs."

[ctrlhope]

I need a Spider Jimin in my life. I have a fear of them and had a giant one in my room, I couldn't kill it or move it, so I just stared at it, hyperventilating and crying. Couldn't look away because if I did, where would it have gone! In the end, my roommate got it after I called for them.

I need Jimin to tell them to leave my space alone or for me not to see them 😔

NOOOOO!!! I used to be so scared of spiders too <//3 like once there was a spider in my room and i stg i looked like i was working in a meth lab with the gear i put on to grab it and take it outside AJHBJSB like had a hoodie tied tight around my head, my old lab safety goggles on, gloves, and a face mask armed with cup and paper in hand. I don't know what i thought it was gonna do to me bro 😭😭 now they don't scare me (i'm now the designated spider-taker-outsider lol) but it must've not been fun at all for you :(((( i'm glad your roomate was there to help you out!! Little spider jimin blurb under the cut to help you cope with the trauma 😔😔

— Dangerous Predator

wc: 1.7k

genre: fluff, hybrid au, soft yandere

content: soft yandere!jimin, hybrid!jimin, spider!jimin, fem!reader, manipulation, kisses, jimin is a good actor, and he’s really sweet <\\3 -> the pitfalls of silk drabble

18+ -> minors / blank blogs dni

Oh god. Oh god what is that– that thing?! 

If your eyes were a second slower, they would’ve missed it. If your reaction speed was just a feather more hesitant you would’ve never noticed the massive creeping brown arachnid skittering across your floor. Legs longer than you’ve ever seen, a massive thorax sticking high in the air making it look all the more menacing, as if it was actually threatening you. As if it had its sights set on you.

The yelp that tears through your throat makes its way out faster than you can stop it, your body jumping high as it tries to scramble on the kitchen counter– plant itself high off the ground, away from where the predator lurks. Ready to do… do whatever it was thinking of doing… yeah. 

Okay, maybe you don’t exactly know what its plans were, but they can’t be any good! Not when it was moving towards your foot like, like that! When your boyfriend is nowhere to be seen, hiding away, sulking in the basement, pretending the food you're cooking doesn’t smell as amazing as it does. 

Sure, you can handle the small spiders– the little ones that appear as no more than dark spots in the corners you can’t see. The ones that cohabitate peacefully, giving you your space and keeping theirs. Two lives nearby yet never crossing paths. But the big ones, the big ones are a struggle no matter how hard you try to adapt. Especially when they move so close to you, disrupting the peaceful environment you’ve created. 

Jimin normally handles this, is normally the expert on dealing with 8-legged creatures you’d rather not share your domain with. But right now, he’s nowhere to be found. A disagreement only a few hours ago putting a halt on all communication with him. Rather feeling the urge to  stew in your own feelings.

But now, right this very second, you could not give less of a shit about the petty argument. Can’t even remember the cause of it in the first place. The only thing you do know is the rush of adrenaline through your veins, the way your eyes lock onto the predators on the floor. The way it takes slow steps in your direction, moving ever so slowly to where you sit pressed on the kitchen counter, lettuce in hand– the perfect defence. 

If you truly believed what Jimin told you about his ability to talk to spiders, if you thought any deeper about them then you do right now– you would think that it’s actually mocking you in the way it steps. Each slow, careful movement as it keeps its eyes locked on yours deliberate and teasing. 

Fucking prick. 

“Jimin!” Your voice calls before you can stop it, another yelp leaving your lips as you helplessly toss your leaf of lettuce at the mighty beast, completely and utterly missing. It’s almost ironic, really, that the biggest spider of all is the only one that can save you at this moment. 

No more than a second passes before you hear his legs bounding up the stairs, scurrying as fast as he can to meet you. To see what the problem may be. Faux nerves taking over his being as he hears the fear in your tone, calling for him. Wanting him above anybody else. 

He wants to laugh once the scene in the kitchen comes into frame. He really does. He almost feels bad for it, honestly, but you just look so cute as you try to struggle away, eyes not leaving the arachnid below. 

But he’s supposed to be your knight in shining armour. He can coo over how adorable his mate is later. 

“Pretty? What happened?” He asks in a hurry, concern buried deep in his tone as he quickly approaches your shaking form. Arm reaching out, gently taking one of your hands in his own. He brings it to his face, using your palm to cup his cheek as he presses a gentle kiss into the surface, gaze burning with worry over your tied expressions. 

You wish you could say you were soothed, that his presence alone brought peace to your quivering heart but it couldn't. Now that the predator was out of your vision, blocked by the very man you called for, you couldn’t be more alarmed. Your body twisting against him, head trying to poke past him to see the beast still lingering nearby. 

“Min! Min there’s a spider! You have, it’s going to eat me!” You shout, pointing over his shoulder with the other hand. How could he not see how urgent this is! This is a matter between life and death!

The gentle annoyance that finds its way into his veins is quickly washed away, discarded into his brain for later. The only mention of it being the quiet narrow of his eyes, ever so slight that no one would notice it. How could you still be concerned over a little spider when he is right in front of you, saving you? 

Did you forget that he is a predator, too? He can’t believe he’s jealous of a spider right now. 

Mmm, but he knows how humans can be. When they get all scared like this they can’t help themselves but to clamp up, frozen out in fear. One of the reasons he never wanted to be the cause of it. The misfortune that bespoke your mind every waking minute. No, he wanted to be the sunshine on a beautiful day, a field of flowers to dance in. Maybe even a handsome prince on a horse, ready to carry you away. 

So that is exactly what he’ll be. 

Soft eyes looking up into your own, half lidded and dangerous with affection, “Well that just won’t do, will it?” He pouts, lower lip jutted out in a cute expression that can’t help but take your breath away. Mince your mind in half, one side still focusing on the obvious threat while the other causes your heart to pound. Causes a fluttering to erupt from deep within. 

Your pretty boyfriend spins on his heels, placing his hands on his hips and puffing out his chest in a manner that can only be described as the cutest thing you’ve ever seen. His cheeks blown out in much the same way, forcing your brain to think about nothing else other than kissing him.

“Now listen here!” He tuts, admonishing the spider. Somehow, he even seems to make glaring cute. “You better leave my pretty mate alone! This is my territory so unless you wanna mess with me, I suggest you leave.” He huffs, yet can’t hide the playful undertone in his words, only half serious. 

You know he probably isn’t taking you seriously. Can never truly understand your fear of the same arthropod you're dating. And you know the spider probably doesn’t even understand a single thing going on– but at the same time you can’t help the battering of butterflies in your stomach at his words. That he’s going these lengths to make you feel protected and safe. 

“She doesn’t like you around here, and she’s the most important in the world to me. So, if you don’t leave right now and tell all of your friends you're not welcome around here, I'll have no choice but to do it for you.” The spider takes a hesitant step back, suddenly lowering its body closer to the floor, almost as if…

Shit. Maybe he really can talk to spiders. 

“Get out.” And with those final words, the spider quickly turns around and scurries out of the kitchen and into the yard, practically waving a white flag all the way. Your eyes widen in shock, mouth hanging open as your legs drop against the counter walls. Fanning either side of Jimin in his embrace. 

A cute smile is on his lips as he turns around– the cocky, proud kind that you normally roll your eyes at. But this time you can’t help but stare at him in shock, blush dusting your cheeks. Even as he leans closer, planting a gentle kiss against your lips as a reward for himself.

“There.” He smiles, hands coming to rest against your thighs. Any thoughts of dinner completely abandoned. He’ll just order take out once he has you in the nest. “All better.” 

“How– you, you!” You hesitate against the sound of his adorable giggle, his hands pulling you closer to his body. Legs wrapping around his waist on instinct. 

“Mhmm, they won’t come around here anymore. I promise, baby.” He hums, lifting you as if you were nothing more than a stuffed animal clinging against his body. “What do we say when your handsome mate helps you out?” 

Your eyes narrow into a glare at his teasing, but you can’t help wrapping further around him. Pulling him close as he ensnares you further into utter devotion. Becoming your safety net against all things scary in the world. 

“Thank you.” You grumble quietly, a gentle peck against his too-soft lips given as a token of your appreciation in that moment. Stopping yourself before you melt into the feeling of his fangs pressed against your lips. “I appreciate it Min…” 

As you’re finally able to hide your face away in his neck– snuggling against his skin and blocking your vision from any other scary things that might exist in the world, you completely miss the way Jimin tosses a small pile of bugs near the window. The same window that was left open just a crack too wide. The same window that he allowed a spider to crawl inside.

The same spider he may have made a deal with.

He hates when you’re mad at him. Hates it more than anything else when you take away the single thing he craves most– you. So could you really, really blame him for hatching a little plan? One he knew would send you into his arms. Make up for your whole little argument in a second. 

Never, ever wants to be the cause for your fear. But every once and awhile it can serve a purpose, he supposes. Especially when it gets him out of the dog house. Gets you nestled into his web, watching movies for the night. Curled in his embrace, gentle words and soothing hands warming you. 

[serendipityandbenevolence]

Couldn't find any fatui x reader SAGAU so I wrote what I wanted to read. It's a tough gig, but someone has to do it. Also yes, I know my sentences are too long

Contains - Mentions of blood (yay), me pretending like scara is still part of the fatui and la signora isn't dead, a good part of this is just you monologuing about how you're going to die (spoilers: you don't) no gold blood (sorry guys) also gn reader

With every labored breath that fell from your lips, you became more certain that this was where you would die. Not in a comfortable bed, surrounded by family to hold you gently as you slipped on, but alone and scared in a foreign land. You traced patterns on the snow that you lay upon, the only movement you could force yourself to do since you collapsed into that very snow hours prior. Part of you said it was the cold that had brought you to your knees, the other, more rational, part said that is was the gaping wound in your side and the heavy trail of red that you had sloppily painted the pristine landscape with.

You could not recall who dealt that blow to you. There were too many bows, swords, spears, that had rained down upon you to tell whose had cut you. And you hadn't looked. You didn't want to know, of those who you had adored through a screen, had performed the killing blow. It was a miracle that you had escaped. Perhaps it was a blessing from the god whose face you had unwittingly stolen, to give you the chance to fade away gently before they could inflict more pain to you.

But as soon as the thought of a peaceful end crossed your mind, you heard it. At first, you could pretend it was merely the howling wind that swirled above, but as the noises got louder, your brain was forced to recognize them as they were: voices. A single tear slid down your cheek as you lay motionless, the last tear you would shed for yourself.

"-they get this far? With the amount of blood they've lost, surely they must be de-"

"Shh! Don't even speak the words! The death of a god would not go unpunished and I do not delight in the thought of what punishment would be in store for us, so please, refrain from such-"

"Over there!"

The hands that grabbed you almost seemed to burn, their gentle warmth scorching your frost-ridden skin. Panicked voices swirled around you, words disappearing from your mind as soon as they are spoken. The only thing you truly hear, as the darkness surrounds you, was the frantic yell for a healer.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You were warm. A rather bland, yet incomprehensible feeling considering the few days you had just had. However, as you forced your eyes open, the reason for your warmth became clear. Gone was the infinite snowy landscape, replaced with a truly massive bedroom and a crackling fire that provided your only light aside from the slightly ajar double doors and the sliver of light they let through. And the bed that you lay upon, which seemed far too spacious for even two people rest in, was piled high with furs and blankets. You wondered whether the person who had made this bed for you had simply taken every blanket they could find and thrown them upon you in the hopes that it would keep you warm.

"Liyue had extended their sincere apology for the treatment of the Divine One, but we are yet to hear anything from Inazuma."

The voice that snaked its way into your room was firm and professional, but with a sharp venom lacing every word, especially the nations that they named. The next voice in comparison made no effort to conceal its vicious hatred, anger seeping out of every letter.

"Not even a letter. How disgraceful. I expected nothing less from a nation that cannot even know its creator when they see them, but somehow, they still disappoint me."

Quite a few murmurs of agreement surrounded that statement, revealing truly how many people stood outside your room, before the first voice responded.

"You would think, Capitano, that such devout worshippers would have a good set of working eyes, however-"

You did not hear beyond that. That name, it told you everything about where you had found yourself and the nature of those voices whispering in the hallway.

The Harbingers.

You almost had to laugh, that your sworn enemies within the narrative were the ones to be providing you shelter after your 'allies' had turned against you. But instead of a laugh, a name fell from your lips, louder then intended, causing the voices outside to hush.

The name of the person you wished to see and, if you were being honest with yourself, your favorite Harbinger.

Now the only question is... who was it?

Pierro

Dottore

Columbina

Scaramouche

Sandrone

Signora

Pantalone

Tartaglia

Capitano

Arlecchino

Anyway, I'll write their lil pathways when i have the energy but hey, if you're reading this, if you want to comment which one you want first, i might listen

[alessiathepirate]

Scream

TOUCH STARVED: Ethan Landry x fem!reader

Summary: Do you ever wonder what the source of the hunger for love is?

Notes: English isn't my first language. I apologize for any mistake I made while I wrote this short story.

I was inspired by literally half a sentence from the movie, but still... we love our little murder boy.

Warnings: SPOILERS! (for Scream 6, but there are only some references), swearing, mentioned/referenced violence, hurt/comfort

•••

Ethan Landry was most definitely touch starved.

She noticed that pretty quickly after they started dating. The way an adorable, silly smile formed on his face as she kissed his cheek or played with his hair was too cute to miss. When she gently touched his face or put her arms around his neck or on his shoulders while they were kissing, the way he ran after her touch and presence was a heartwarming sight to see. Not to mention the slight blush what was still present everytime she gave him a small compliment, especially in front of others.

And God, she loved that when they were alone they were basically attached at the hip, hands or thighs always touching.

But even though she loved him and his presence more than anything, she couldn't help but wonder where that touch starvation came from. She knew that it's not always a pretty thing, especially not the source of it. Someone so hungry for love and peace - it comes from somewhere deep within.

She got the answer to that after the murders started to happen again, after another Ghostface showed up. And just like she thought, the source wasn't a pretty thing at all.

She woke up one night, legs tangled in the sheets, hands burried under the pillow to the feeling that someone sat down on the bed. She immediately opened her eyes in panic as she sat up, eyes trying to get used to the darkness. The phone calls and murders made her jumpy and paranoid, and with that more protective - both the first and last thing she did everyday was calling her friends, making sure they are fine.

The panic disappeared after she realized there was nothing to be scared of, the only other person in the room was Ethan, her lover and with that the rightful owner of the bedroom she was sleeping in.

"Ethan?" she called out to her boyfriend as she wiped the sleep out of her eyes. " 'Everything all right?"

It took a few seconds for him to answer. At first she thought he was starteled, that she scared him with her sudden movements, but his shoulders didn't move and nor did his arms.

"Everything's all right, sweetheart, you can go back to sleep."

Her tiredness disappeared as she looked at him, her back straightening like a hunter's dog sensing something in the dark. Her heartbeat quickened as she looked at him, at his back because he didn't turn around.

She had never seen him hurt before. She's seen him happy, sad and tired... but hurt? That was a new thing and she didn't like it. She didn't like the way his voice became lower or how pained it sounded.

She climbed closer to him in bed, sat down on her calves behind him as she gently hugged him, one of her hands running through his hair, playing with his curles.

His body reacted like it always did, at first he froze then got used to the feeling of being touched, trying to unknowingly get closer to her to try and get lost in her presence.

"You can talk to me, E. You know that, right? I'm here for you."

She kissed his neck, then one of his shoulderblades through the material of his t-shirt, doing her best to try and make the tension from his body disappear.

He took a hold of her hand, the one that was resting on his shoulder and kissed it, ran his fingers along the back of it.

"I just had a phone call with my dad."

The sentence was sudden, but the honesty didn't make her anxious. Instead she kept on playing with his curles.

He never talked about his family. At least not to her. This was a sign of trust and it made her dizzy.

"Did something happen?"

"No, it's... I don't know." his uncertainty was painful to hear. "Nothing has to happen sometimes, you know."

He never talked like this and it scared her.

"You do love me, right?"

She didn't know whart hurt more: the way he said it or that he felt like he has to ask to make sure she does.

"What are you talking about, E?" she gently tried to make him look at her and when their eyes met she continued: "Of course I do! 'Wouldn't leave for the world, 'you understand? You're my pretty boy" she said, calling him what their friends teased them with "and I love you more than anything."

There it was - the slight blush after a compliment, his cheeks became pink and she noticed that like a sixth sense even in the dark.

"What made you say that?"

"It's just... everything is always about my brother and sometimes he forgets that I'm also his son."

She didn't ask questions. She just leaned closer to his face, despite their weird position, and kissed him, slow and gentle as her hands softly explored his body and hugged him, making him feel damn well that to her he is precious. And he kissed back, but so hungrily that her heart hurt. She felt him shiver and sensed that his heart is full of love and adoration. She didn't understand - she never will, how no one appreciates him as much as she does when he has so much love to give.

She broke the kiss after a while and smiled at him.

"Well I can tell you that you are my boyfriend and I love you more than anything. And I'll for sure kick your dad and brother in the balls if I have to."

In that moment she understood. She understood why he reacted to her touch the way he did, she understood where that starvation for love came from. That night she felt her heart grow, it became full of the need to protect and love and prove.

As they lied back down and pulled the covers up, Ethan hugged her tightly, not wanting to let go. And while she made sure to remind him how loved he is, she forgot to realize that Ethan never mentioned that he has a brother before.

[lostinforestbound]

What's that? More Dark!Rolan on the horizon?? Here we are! (As always, this is based of @slumpsnail's art and is also my main inspiration!) This is a prequel to my first Dark!Rolan post!

Death of a Master

CW: Physical Abuse, Intrusive Thoughts (Gore, Eye trauma, Killing), Acting upon Intrusive Thought

His eyes are wide and teary as his chest heaves, trying to catch breaths that don’t quite come. It hurts to breathe, the strike from Lorroakan’s staff almost breaking his ribs. His master is careful, coldly calculating each strike to make sure nothing will break but make it hurt all the same, to make him writhe on the floor.

If Cal and Lia were still alive and able to witness this, what would they say? What would his mother say? That he’s pathetic, letting himself be treated like an unwanted dog? No, they were always kinder than that, even when he didn't deserve it.

He’s too scared to cry out for help. He's too prideful. It would only lead to another strike either way.

Usually he can grit through the sessions, grind his teeth and say nothing. His motivation is fueled by stubbornness, spite, and rage. But gods, Lorroakan might kill him this time, especially if he casts detect thoughts again.

He’s been having dreams of killing him in different ways. Drowning, tearing out his organs, setting him ablaze, choking him; his imagination knows no bounds. Last night, his dream self gouged his eyes out, digging his claws into the sockets until he stopped screaming. These wayward, unwanted thoughts were haunting him as he walked, nipping at the edges of his mind when he least suspected it. He’s becoming terrified of himself, and he has no one to confide in. When did he become so comfortable with the thought of killing someone?

When he wakes, he always hopes that Lorroakan died in his sleep. Maybe then he would have peace. When his mentor uses a Command Spell on him to make him kneel, he hopes the animated armor who stands guard strikes him through the heart.

The weave crackles, and he recognizes the detect thoughts spell trying to reach to the deepest parts of his mind. Like a fool, he mentally blocks it out with a grimace.

That was the worst mistake he’s made thus far.

“You dare resist me?” Lorroakan spits as Rolan shakily gets to his knees, wanting to run.

“Master, forgive me-“ He gasps, but is cut off with a harsh hit to the jaw by the metal staff, sending him back down to the ground. As always, nothing is broken, but hells, it hurts.

Blood spittles out from his mouth and into the floor, knowing better than trying to stand. If Lorroakan sees him trying to get back up, he’ll hit him again. Part of him hoped that someone would walk in and interrupt, giving him a small break to regroup himself.

No one will help him. When has anybody ever?

He’s going to die here. Pathetic and alone with no one that will miss him when he’s gone. Another failed apprentice, another nameless wizard. What has he done so wrong in a past life that resulted in being tortured in this one? Why wouldn’t the gods listen to him when he prayed for his siblings safety, so long ago? What have Cal and Lia ever done that they deserved to be turned into shadows?

So many questions are left unanswered, and he’s nothing but a shaking mess. Usually he shook from anger, though in the face of death, fear clasped around his throat, threatening to choke him.

“All you ever ask for is forgiveness. Maybe if you done right by me for once in your useless life, you would not have to ask for it, Tiefling.” Lorroakan sneers, hovering over him.

“Forgive me, Master.” He repeats, voice rasping.

The staff drags across the ground as he circles him. “There you are again! Forgive me this, forgive me that…you disgust me, do you know that? I don’t know why I decided to take you on as my apprentice.”

His tongue is useless as he tries to come up with a reason that he’s good enough. His spells are incredible, he knows that deep in his heart, but he needs training to perfect them. He hasn’t learned a damn thing yet because of these punishments.

The realization hits him like a falling boulder, making his ears ring. Lorroakan is never going to teach him anything. He’s only here to be a plaything. Someone he can beat to make himself feel superior, more powerful.

He’s been a fool, and he barely hears the “let’s try this again” from his teacher.

He cries out when the weave forcibly enters his mind, a splitting headache tearing through him that renders him speechless again. His master is not even trying to hide that he’s searching for something to leech onto. A cold chill rushes through him as he pins down a thought, heart nearly stopping.

There it was, a nightmare he could not hide as it was still fresh in his mind. Lorroakan, dead on the ground with his throat torn open.

Rolan is paralyzed, and he does not see the brief fear that flashes across Lorroakan’s face when he sees the image of his torn apart self.

“How dare you.”

He frantically crawls back, breathing harsh with his panic. “Master, I’m sorry-“

“How DARE you think of me in this way?! Ungrateful, pitiful bastard, you have learned nothing!”

The staff is being raised once more, and the weave unintentionally crackles around Rolan’s hands. “Master-!”

“I have wasted my time with you. I will think twice before gaining an apprentice again."

Lorroakan swings his staff, a grin on his face. He has every intent to kill him here with the way he aims for Rolan's temple. Without thinking, Rolan raises both his shaking hands to block it with a shield, but his manipulation of the weave senses his true intent. Electricity hums around his hands and-

Die.

There's a loud crack, and he hears the staff drop after a moment. Something wet coat parts of his face and hands. When the pain never comes, he slowly opens his eyes.

Blood. It coats his body and the floor. It's everywhere.

He steadies himself back to sitting on his feet, and there was his master, a gaping hole in his chest and choking on air.

Finally, Rolan’s body has stopped trembling.

(Next Part)

[dyns33]

The God of Nightmares

A little Dark Morpheus x Reader. Not proud of this one, but still posting it. 

Her parents had never been very clear about why Y/N couldn't go out.

Yes, they had told her about the "monster", the God of dreams, with whom they had had a "problem", and who wanted to kill them all and take her, but it wasn't really very clear at the end.

When she was a child, she hadn't asked questions.

Y/N had seen the tall, dark figure through the windows, she had heard the whispers in the dark, she had had strange dreams, and it had all scared her.

There had been the time when she had been sleepwalking, approaching the front door, and it was her father who had grabbed her before she opened it. Since that incident, they locked her in her bedroom when she was going to sleep.

It wasn't easy for her, being locked in the house all day, and in her bedroom at night.

But it was for her own good, the good of the family, the good of the whole world.

When she was ten years old, her mother had taken her hands and tried to be a little clearer about their situation. Especially because Y/N kept having a lot of questions, not understanding why she was the only one who wasn't allowed to go outside.

           "A long time ago, your grandfather's grandfather made a mistake. He met the master of nightmares who ordered him to give him the first daughter born in the family, otherwise the whole universe would fall in a eternal sleep. Frightened, the man accepted, but only had boys, who in turn only had boys, and that until you were born. But it had been centuries, and we didn't want to lose you, so we asked a powerful witch for help. The house is protected, and he can't come in without permission. As you can imagine, it didn't please the King of Dreams, who swore to kill us all as soon as he gets you. Then you mustn't go out, ever."

           "... But he could hurt you too when you go outside."

           "No, he's not allowed to. He needs to have you first."

           "I don't understand anything. And I thought I had no right to imagine things."

           "Indeed, why do you say… Oh, yes, I told you to imagine. Forgive me dear, you're right."

           "He and I are not allowed to do many things. But why did he ask my grandfather's grandfather for his daughter ?"

           "It's late, you should go to sleep. Dreamless sleep, promise me."

Y/N didn't answer, just going to her room, followed by her parents who locked the door as soon as she was inside.

It was all really unclear, and the few dreams she had weren't helping. Because even if the figure in the street was frightening, surrounded by ravens and his shining eyes staring at the house, there was nothing terrifying in hers dreams.

This rarely happened, no doubt because of the protection of the witch, and the prohibition of her parents to develop her imagination, but it happened that Y/N heard stories, stole a book, hid behind the sofa to listen the television, and then she couldn't help dreaming of another life, outside, where she would be free and happy.

This was what she continued to dream of during the night, finding herself near a lake, or in a garden, near a huge palace, where several creatures greeted her with a friendly smile, saying that they were glad to meet her.

Y/N did not see the King of Dreams for several years however, not until she became an adult. He had left her with calm and peaceful nights, only showing up at the door of her house. But he seemed to be losing patience after all this time.

           "My love, why do you let them treat you like this ?" he asked her one night, meeting her in a wonderful forest.

           "You. Don't come any closer !"

           "You can run but it would be useless, we are in my kingdom and I will find you everywhere. I am not trying to scare you though. I just want to talk to you."

           "You want to take me and kill my parents."

           "Oh, I certainly don't have any affection for your family after what they did to me, but if you ask me, I won't kill them."

           "... Really ?"

           "Really, my love. They have a debt to pay, and the rules are the rules. I can't leave until this story is over, and it won't be over until you let me in."

           "Why are you calling me that ?"

The Master of nightmares didn't answer her, just smiling at her, a sweet and sincere smile.

The next day, Y/N dared to ask her parents if there was a way to convince the terrible God to spare them. Maybe he would listen and be lenient. He could probably understand that people who hadn't asked for anything didn't want to abandon their daughter.

The question enraged them, her mother asking her if she had lost her mind, while her father grabbed her to shake her, yelling at her not to think such things, before ordering her to go to her room, where she was locked up all day.

Her only companion was a little raven who stayed at the window as she cried, but unable to get in, since she couldn't open it either.

There was another dream, during which the king asked her again why she let her family treat her so cruelly.

           "They cut you off from the dream world, my love, but they also cut you off from the waking world. It's not healthy, it's not normal. I see how unhappy you are. I regret having you put in such a situation. My brother had sworn to me that if I asked a companion to the man who offered me a pact, I would be happy, but he seems to have been wrong, for the first time."

           "The man who offered you a pact ?"

           "Don't you know, my love ? Of course not. They lied about that too, so you would distrust me. I can imagine what they told you. One of your ancestors found me when I was in a delicate situation, and he offered to help me. In exchange for his help, I offered him good luck. But he asked for more, he wanted the certainty that he and his descendants would lack for nothing, so in exchange for my favours and my protection, I asked for the hand of the first daughter of his family. When I had my betrothed, my benefits would no longer be assured, although they would continue to be lucky. He agreed on the terms, but the day you were born, your parents thought they didn't want to lose everything, so they locked you away from me. I now want to take you, make you my queen, but also to punish them, for not having respected our pact, but especially for all that they did to you."

Not knowing if she could believe him, Y/N asked him to leave her alone, which he did, bowing to her.

For several nights, she had no dreams, until she called him. Then the king of dreams ran to her, smiling enchantingly, and answering all her questions without the slightest embarrassment.

No, the world had nothing to fear from him. No, they wouldn't kill her parents if that was her wish. No, he wouldn't force her to stay with him if she preferred to leave, he just wanted her to be free, and to be able to see her sing, dance and smile in the middle of a meadow, lit by the sun.

And he was not a God. He was an Endless, Dream of the Endless. Morpheus.

Again, there remained the possibility that he was a liar. Her parents had always told her that he was a liar, that he was dangerous, and that he would do anything to get her out or let him in.

But from the beginning he had been the only one to treat her with respect and kindness. To worry about her happiness, to ask her what she wanted, to say that this situation was not normal.

The only one who apologized.

Y/N therefore found the courage to talk to her family again, in order to find a suitable solution.

           "I think it would be really possible to talk to him, and in exchange he won't hurt anyone."

           "You still say stupid things." growled her father.

           "No. Morpheus may not be as monstrous as you think, he'll let you go, he'll even let me go, this can all have a good ending, we can all..."

           "How... How did you call him ?" her mother asked in a shaky voice. "You talked to him. You listened to him. You let him hex you, and now you want to kill us all ! Do you think he'll leave us ?! Either you're crazy or you're stupid !"

           "We won't let you ruin everything ! You won't come out, you hear ?! You won't come out, even if we have to force you to."

Frightened by her parents' fury, Y/N took refuge in the cellar, in a dark corner where no one could find her. There, she had some time to think.

There had been something in her father's and mother's eyes, something dangerous, dark, and she had understood that they weren't necessarily talking about locking her in her room again to prevent her from going out.

If she died, they wouldn't have a problem.

A part of her refused to believe that they could commit such a crime, and yet they had lied to her since birth, only to keep the blessings Morpheus had granted them. Even though he had agreed to give them a little luck, which would be enough to have a good life.

She had to get out of this house, quickly.

Making as little noise as possible, she went back into the kitchen, hearing her parents who were still looking for her upstairs, and she slipped to the front door. The key had been left on a piece of furniture, no one imagining that she would think to open it, and no one fearing that the Master of dreams could enter, thanks to the magical protection.

As soon as the door was opened, Y/N found herself face to face with Morpheus, who seemed to know perfectly well what had happened.

           "Will you let me in to punish them ? Or do you still wish to spare them, just to come with me ?"

           "I... I don't know."

           "Matthew saw everything. He heard them, plotting against you, talking about hiding your body. Let me in, my love. Even if I don't kill them, I have to punish them for what they did."

           "Who is Matthew ?"

           "My raven. He always stayed close, to tell me if you were safe."

           "I don't care what you do, but I would love a hug."

Morpheus only had to take a step and open his cloak that contained the universe to take her in his arms. It was the first time someone had hugged her, and Y/N closed her eyes, hugging him back, as her parents arrived, screaming in terror at the sight of the scene.

They screamed again, as Morpheus waved a hand in their direction, but Y/N paid no attention, feeling at last where she belonged, surrounded by love and warmth. A kiss placed on her forehead, she then found herself in front of a castle, where several creatures greeted her as their queen.

           "I'm dreaming ?" she asked shyly.

           "Yes and no, my love. You are in my kingdom. Our kingdom. Come."

           "I thought I could go and be free if I asked to ?"

           "Come." he repeated simply taking her hand, leading her to the throne.

And then Y/N wondered if she was dreaming, or if she was having a nightmare.

[catchyhuh]

You once told about crying, so let's talk about the happier scenario: LAUGHTER. We were shown them sharing it a lot in canon but maybe you have some additional thoughts? Who would have the most twisted, dark sense of humor? Or maybe the cringiest? Who would laugh his butt off while reading some stupid text on the birthday card on the local shop? Does any of them snort or hiccup while giggling? Are any of them ticklish on some unusual spot? Do they prank each other? And what do they do to actually cheer up the others? Those kind of headcanons!

oh my god. i want to hug you. you’re right we DO need to talk about this!! peace and love and joy on planet earth!!!! all of them laugh when they see a guy walk headfirst into a glass pane and only two of them sort of kind of feel bad about it

lupin:

it takes almost nothing to make lupin laugh. and he’s not even fucking with you either he just sincerely thinks THIS much is funny but he has more of a control over his giggles than people might assume. he CAN stop laughing but he knows its obnoxious to people so he DOESN’T 

he knows how to weaponize levity. like, he really does have more emotional maturity than people give him credit for (not that he’s GREAT about it, just better than people give him credit for!) and it’s been shown multiple times that he tries to use laughter to pull people out of their emotional pits of despair. he exaggerates his gestures, he makes weird faces, and since he’s already such an animated person you wouldn’t even realize it’s an intentional thing unless you really knew him

lupin arguably pulls pranks every day, but not on his gang. at least, not the standard kind. it turns out people with nightmarishly fast reflexes have um. pretty wild kneejerk reactions if you pop out from behind a corner to try to scare them! usually he just replaces unimportant items for the hell of it. sour cream in the yogurt tub. pens replaced with black straws. shit that’s annoying but never WILD. he saves that for the heists 

jigen:

jigen laughing is (like so many things) ENTIRELY dependent on his mood. if he’s grouchy it’s almost impossible to make him laugh, even if it’s something he normally finds hilarious, but if he’s easygoing on this particular day it’s not. i mean its a REASONABLE level. it’s reasonable. honestly a lot of it has to do with the person it’s coming from too so it’s like. there’s factors. there’s factors to what makes him laugh. and oddly enough none of it has to do with his sense of humor. although in THEORY he would be the pickiest. it’s not HIGHBROW good lord not highbrow humor by any means, but he’s like. unimpressed with absurdist meme humor. probably because so much WAY wackier shit happens to them organically every damn day BUT YOU KNOW HOW IT IS

jigen. is a very loud laugher, when he gets to that very sincere point. like if he’s outside checking the mail or whatever and you’re standing in a bedroom upstairs on the opposite side of the house, and he sees a squirrel fall out of a tree flailing wildly before it just lands on its feet, blinking in confusion… you’ll know. you’ll know he saw that. and so will any house that happens to be in a 1 mile radius of the hideout. full lung capacity, clutching his stomach, pointing and everything. 

fujiko:

it is not impossible to get fujiko to laugh. difficult, but not impossible. especially because she’ll just do that laugh that indicates “that was funny/entertaining” but doesn’t actually like. turn into real laughter.  but fujiko sincerely, fully breaking into a laughing fit is like a haley’s comet level rare, beautiful event in nature. i know i said she never CRY cries but her eyes water up almost immediately the minute she starts laughing laughing, and her face gets all red and streaky. it’s exceedingly undignified. it’s so great

fujiko does admittedly find things funny the most in a like. objective sense. she’ll watch a movie and grin and be like “that was funny” and it’s like. ok then why aren’t you laughing? SHE JUST HAS A HIGHER COMEDY TOLERANCE. it’s not even one of those things she’s trained herself on. it’s just. being around these idiots for so long she has come to realize if she actually did start cracking up every time one of them did something stupid, intentional or not, she would have fractured a rib by now, and that’s just not super ideal for anybody really,

tied with jigen for the darkest sense of humor, easily. of course, again, unlike jigen, she won’t immediately start losing it, but her eyes will widen with this like flash of humor and she’ll just kind of smile tightly because she KNOWS she shouldn’t laugh at generic dead baby joke number 482938 but unlike jigen she cares at least a little about not seeming like a total ass. just a lil.

goemon:

less giggly than lupin, more giggly than jigen. goemon’s sense of humor is kind of hard to pinpoint, even for him. it could be something as simple as someone deliberately mispronouncing a word that gets his smile all twisted up, it could be a stupid pun, but he INSISTS he does NOT find others getting hurt funny. he insists. and then when lupin actually trips and eats shit and jigen immediately bursts out laughing goemon turns his head away like No No No it's not funny i will not laugh. i won’t BUT IT’S TOO LATE. WE’VE ALREADY LOST HIM. not above finding others’ misfortune funny in other ways though, he just (says) bodily harm isn’t funny. someone trying to step out of the rain and getting an entire awning’s worth of water dumped on them though, he will admit that shit is funny as hell

when goemon really REALLY starts laughing like, uncontrollably, can’t stop laughing, he just stops making noise. but he hates how stupid he must look with his mouth hanging open and no sound coming out, so he tucks his chin and halfway tries to cover his face, his shoulders just shaking the whole time. of course it takes a lot to get to that point like a LOT lot, so it’s amazing he’s as concerned about it as he is

zenigata:

zenigata WANTS to be like jigen in the “this is serious i'm mad at you. stop giggling” sense but he’s. not as sturdy in that department. he like draws his mouth super tight to stop from smiling and he’s like “this is not funny. stop. stop it. ITS NOT F--” and then he puts his head in his hands to try to stop laughing but it’s too late the dam has already broken

like with crying, he doesn’t ever really feel the need to stop himself from laughing outside of I’M SERIOUS CUT IT OUT type situations. like he gets giggly just when he’s in a good mood and nothing funny has even happened yet. and like with literally everything with him he’s loud. very loud. almost anything can get him to laugh, nothing is too stupid or juvenile despite what he insists. also sometimes laughs when he’s nervous, and it’s like, the only time he’s at a semi-average volume doing it. because he’s fearing for his life. it happens.

[getpaidgetlaidgatorade]

new oc stuff

I haven’t drawn in like two months so this will have to do yippeee

iPads been powered off for ages anyway

Jordan:

5’11”, 25 yrs old, heterosexual

mid length hair, dark blue eyes (not soul piercing weezer blue…)

instead of being plain dark brown she’s gonna have highlights like this

still a massive Swiftie ofc slay queen

Skinny Jeans tm addict like Logan because their style is stuck in the 2010s

I think where she would be in life….is like…

most likely not having started a family with Logan lol sex scares him anyway

but more at peace? I imagine her being closer to god

Both Jordan and Logan were raised in catholic households but one of them turned out with irreversible religious trauma 🤡 can u guess who???

he wouldn’t mind though

that she’s like

more religious now

their relationship is more like an unspoken bond idk I suck at romantic shit but basically they don’t need kids or a legal marriage certificate or whatever they’re just chilling living life you know??

Logan:

6’, 26, heteroromantic (ig?) asexual

Still a bitter and angry person especially since his beef with Blair is also still ongoing …..

still hasn’t worked through all his trauma, says he’s fine even though his body is literally givijg out on him at just 26

find this mf awake with bags under his eyes ask him how he slept he says like a baby (had panic attacks and nightmares)

either that or he’ll be like “slept like shit.” And not elaborate

abyways

he has longer hair now yippeeee

I have no clue who the fuck this guy is but imagine Logan’s hair is like this because tbh every time I go to draw his hair it comes out different so hopefully this helps you visualize (?)

This is longer than what it used to be

he would usually have it shorter and more neatly styled, keeping most of the puffiness on top but like. Fuck it. fluffy era

Logan still looks “boyish” like. idk like not a CHILD boy but like. young flushed cheeks

(this doesn’t really contribute to the look but he still picks at his skin as a nervous habit)

basically he’s still pretty much the same.

Except he’s slowly getting over his father’s death and memories of abuse yk?

I know this is kinda lame and disappointing but idk

alsoooo!!! if you’re ever gonna draw him, ripped black skinny jeans are a must! Plus new piercings

like I couldn’t find a good pic but he wears the usual black stud ones in his lobes and rings jn his helix or whatever I don’t know ear parts fucking uhhhh comch.. . daithg…

BLAIRRRR QUEEN SLAY:

I dunno about you but this queen is feeling 22!!!

still slaying LA bitch boots the house down huston

5’2 (without her crazy ass heels), 22, hetero

she’s literally still the exact same bitch just with a cunty bob

sometimes switches it up with extensions

now lives on her own instead of with her father in his mansion

you don’t know how but she’s rich as fuck

her dads still alive so it’s obviously not inheritance…

she doesn’t work ofc she doesn’t wanna get her hands dirty…

clearly she’s doing something shady

but it doesn’t matter because she just bought a new pair of red bottom heels

The pink outfit is her idea of “office core mature siren queen deer beauty”

THATS ALL FOR NOW CUS THIS GOT SUPER LONG I MIGHT DO MORE LATER IF I REMEMBER

this was sooo fun

self indulging with ocs core

[seariii]

Villainess level 99 ep 1-3

I already have seen the first 2 and just watched it again with my mom and my brother (well, mom fell asleep)

I have to say, the first episode was SO CRINGY TO ME I WANTED TO TEAR MY SKIN AWAY. IT WAS HORRIBLE I WAS DYING when the pov was from the otome protagonist.

I thought that was a normal reaction, but now as I was complaining about it my brother went "it's not as bad as you said it was" and I was like oh. Our conclusion was that it made me cringe because I (used to) play otome games, and I probably didn't like the way they went with it. Which fair!

Thank god the actual anime protagonist is someone else, I don't think I could've survived that

Also I did play a magic school otome, probably one of my all time favorites, loved the characters and the stories... *Shakes head* But that's not the point of this.

I love isekaied villains!! I love op girls that save the guys!!! Also the mc totally gives aro vibes, love it.

Idk how they'll do with the guy who 100% will develop a crush on the mc after she saves him, but my brother and I kept joking about it, the guy being like "I love a man who can save me" talking about the female protagonist, and "he so badly wants to be manhandled by her" (that one was him and it killed me).

Anyways I loved the king and the queen like "pls marry my son" and the mc like SAY SIKE RIGHT NOW. JSJSJSJS the prince is an asshole we will have to punch him on the face

ALSO FROM THIS LAST EPISODE IM GIVING THE GAME PROTAGONIST THE SIDE EYE. SHE TOTALLY WAITED TO BE ON A PUBLIC PLACE, SURROUNDED WITH MANY PEOPLE TO ACCUSE OUR MC OF BEING THE DEMON LORD! GIRL JUST BRING YOUR HAREM WHY DO YOU WANT THE WHOLE SCHOOL TO HATE HER IF SHE LITERALLY HASNT DONE ANYTHING BAD!!!

"she was scared" THE MC IS PEACEFUL!! SHE JUST HAS PREJUDICES AND SOMETHING SOMETHING CAN SEE HER AURA AS A DARK MAGIC USER BECAUSE SHES A LIGHT MAGIC USER. IT SOUNDS LIKE PREJUDICE TO ME!!!

.... Sorry lmao. I usually like the otome protagonist, even the silly ones, but yeah sometimes the way they write them on this villain isekai stories makes me hate them. Especially like this one, who is presented as a goody two shoes who loves everyone and wants to bring peace and love into the world, but turns around and does this, accusing our mc of something big and serious in front of everyone when the hate she was receiving had JUST started to calm down. Idk. Even if they explain it on the next episode, I'm not liking her right now.

"but seari if you think about it form her perspective it makes sense"

I've played my fair share of otomes, and you know what? particularly the magic school one I talked about also has a goody two shoes silly protagonist. And Liz would've never done something like this. She DOES stand up to the villains in a dumb way, but not like this.

Hmph!!! *Crosses arms while pouting*

[thecagedbard]

Does your Tav have any scars or tattoos? What are their origins?

"Oh I have a few scars," she touches her forehead over her left brow. "Where did they come from? Well, this one," she motions to the one on her lip, "is from a man when I refused to kiss him. Then his wife heard a different story from him and did this," she motions to her forehead. "Yeah, she also stabbed me here," rubs her hand just above her right breast. "The others...well, Issac never cared if I got hurt, just that his friends and debtors were happy."

What does your Tav believe in? Do they have some weird superstitions?

"So you think you're being followed by one of the honest folk? Look, just take a bit of milk and sugar, mix it together and leave it and a little something sweet, they'll take their offering and leave. The fey don't want to feel like they owe you. At least that's what Mother always told us to do..."

How does Tav want to die?

"Die?! I don't want to die...or is this like Astarion's weird questioning? Fine. Uhm, poison is fine. The right combination of herbs and the hope to go to sleep before it takes ahold. Seems peaceful and not painful. I don't like pain."

What is your Tav's class and why? Did Tav choose it themselves?

Curtsies, "I'm a bard. Or that's what everyone keeps saying. I really have no idea. Making music and entertainment for others has always been a way of life for us, me and my siblings I mean."

What are your Tav's prejudices about races, cultures, genders, and places?

"Do I hate people based on their race?" She laughs and shakes her head, "Of course not! I'm a drow for crying out loud, people hate my kind on principle alone. Don't look at me like that, I am a dark-okay maybe not so dark-elf. I can admit other drow make me nervous but they do have a nasty reputation, especially those who worship that giant spider goddess.

Does Tav want to have children?

There's a sad smile on her face, it's stressed. "I have had three children, they either didn't survive or they hate me. I'm not certain I could put myself through it again and risk the same results."

Does your Tav have a family? Siblings? Living relatives?

"Gods the amount of siblings I have would make you think my mother was touched by Sune. There's fifteen of us, ready? Don't worry you won't have to remember half of these names: Yasmine, Tavius, Ari, Nelly, Rosie, Marcel, Vale, Perris, Opal, then there's the triplets: Hadrien, Arnaud, and Kyli. There's also Lothaire and Azelie. None of that's in any particular order." "Parents? Oh well, Mother was alive the last I saw her. Father passed when I was around ten...and then was... never mind. That's a story best left alone."

What can make your Tav cry?

"What can't!? Every time people are nice to me I get a bit misty-eyed. A beautiful song can bring me to tears. Mostly cry when people yell at me though...but when I'm scared I don't cry. That's when I vomit."

What are your Tav's political opinions?

"Politics are for people with enough money to care. Never had enough money and I never cared."

What language does Tav speak? Why?

"Common...Sylvan....oh I know a couple of swearwords in-what was it-draconic! Why? Well, Nelly is really good at making friends. Better than Vale even and she met a dragonborn...some whirlwind romance and he taught her a bunch of dirty words. That she dutifully taught to her younger siblings. OH! Why Sylvan? I'm not sure really, Ariane was just always insistent that we all know it and it honestly came super easy."

What is Tav's favorite genre of stories?

She sways from side to side with a nervous smile. She can't read.

Heavy or light sleeper?

Before the nautiloid, and after Ffion's abduction, she was a very light sleeper. Even for a while traveling she's slept lightly. "Yes, sleep. I'm just getting used to meditating again..."

What is Tav afraid of?

"Issac. The other Palroy bunch. Uhm, spiders and just the idea of krakens alone."

Is your Tav neurodivergent?

"What's that?" Yes, she may not know what the word means but she probably does qualify.

What stupid things does Tav believe in?

That sweets will deter the fey.

What is your Tav's comfort food?

"Azelie's candies...she used to bring Perris and me some when things would get rough at home. Something about those candies always takes me back to hiding in the closets and being safe."

How does Tav prefer to sleep?

"Oh, I'm fine on my side, my tummy, however." If the others wake up before she does they often find her in the fetal position with her arms tucked under her. Seems to fall asleep quickest when she's warm and often hides her head under the blanket if she's alone. When sleeping with Astarion or Halsin (or both, ahem) she prefers being as close as possible. Whether that means she's wrapped around them or Astarion's head is against her chest it doesn't matter. She enjoys the closeness.

What coping mechanisms does Tav have?

Be Good. Be Obedient. Be Compliant. The first two she learned from Octavius and Yasmine, the third came from Issac. She tries her best to smile through any hardship or embarrassment because others are being entertained by it or a hardship for her could be easement for another. If pain is being inflicted on her she drifts into her own mind to a boat that floats on the familiar waters of Moonshae Isles. Nothing can reach her if she's in the middle of the water, and she can't see the danger coming if she lays on the bottom and stares at the endless sky.

[jeannewritessometimes]

[[Part 2 of this fanfic, Murdock (Murderplier) x GN!Reader drabble, I’m definitely making this into a series lmao]]

[[Warnings: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, paranoia-inducing content, minors/ageless blogs DNI, mentions of murder, blood, predator/prey themes, horror/romance combo, use of “prize” and similar terms to describe reader, stalking, NSFW (Murdock doesn’t whip it out in this one, but there’s some other… adult activities), possessive language, orgasm denial, light degradation, voyeurism mention, dubcon, NOT ROMANTICIZING YANDERE TROPES]]

It had been weeks since your… encounter with him. You hadn’t gone to the police; you were too scared, and you knew those idiots wouldn’t do anything anyway. You had been doing your own research on this man instead, and… oh boy. 

Murdock Clay, ironically, used the cover of a paranormal investigator. From what you could tell, people made appointments with him to investigate the supernatural occurrences in the area, and he took this opportunity to find his victims. Every time he was recruited to investigate, within a week at the most, a middle-aged man (typically a father) ended up going missing.

Bile rose up your throat once you realized that he was making a mockery of ghost-hunting, something that you had dedicated your entire life to, in order to hide his sick and bloodthirsty exploits. 

You took every precaution to keep yourself safe. Your doors were locked, your blinds were shut, you only left your apartment when you absolutely needed to… Yet, as you lay in bed and closed your eyes, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of unease. Something was wrong. 

“Well, well. You’re so peaceful when you sleep, trophy.”

The sickeningly familiar voice broke you out of your sleepy haze, and you sat up abruptly to see Murdock sitting at the end of your bed, twirling a knife in his hand. You slowly and silently try to reach for your phone, but your heart stopped as you realized that it wasn’t there. 

“Aw, you didn’t think I’d be stupid enough to leave that there?” His lips curled into a sinister smile, and your heart drops as you watch him slip your phone into the pocket of his dark trenchcoat. 

“What the fuck do you want from me?” you demand, trying to hide your fear behind a veil of anger. In reality, you were scared shitless. This guy could easily kill you, and nobody would ever know. Murdock stands up and steps closer to you, before softly caressing your jaw with his gloved hand and letting out a quiet hum.

Chills run down your spine at the softness of his touch, the cold leather of his glove a shock to your system. It’s hard to see his eyes through the pitch-blackness of his sunglasses, but you knew that they were fixated on you like a wolf that had found a sheep with a broken leg. 

All in all… you were fucked. 

“I wanted to see you again. I’d be an idiot if I let my little prize get away from me again, wouldn’t I?” he mused, his hand slipping down to gently wrap around your throat. He didn’t squeeze- not yet, anyway- just held you in place as he moved his face closer to you.

It seemed like the scratches you’d left on his face had healed pretty quickly. The one scar that had been left behind was faint, barely noticeable until Murdock had gotten closer. “You see, I don’t take kindly to being teased. Especially not by someone that I’d planned on hunting for sport.” 

You’re unable to do anything but stare at him, your eyes wide with fear. God, that conflicting warmth in your gut was back. It was almost like you were turned on by this, but there was no way in hell that you were turned on by this. No way in hell. 

“I feel your pulse through my glove, you know. Your heart is racing, trophy.” He squeezes softly, as if to prove his point, and your breath hitches in your throat. “Is that because you’re scared of me?”

You want to nod, cuss at him, even spit in his face or something, but all that comes out is a pathetic whimper. God, you were sick for being turned on by this. 

As if reading your mind, Murdock loosens his grip slightly and pulls you closer. His lips are mere inches away from yours and you can feel his hot breath on your skin. “Oh, I understand, trophy, you’re not scared. Not primarily, anyway,” he teased, looking at you from above the rims of his sunglasses. His eyes are a dull shade of blue, but there’s a bit of dark red circling the outside of his iris. It doesn’t look supernatural, per se, more so just an odd quirk. But you’re hardly focused on that right now. Murdock’s free hand moves down your chest, brushing against your clothed nipple and making you shiver softly before continuing down your sternum and over to rest on your waist. His body is warm, you can feel the heat radiating off of him, but your mind is too fuzzy to think very hard about that. 

“You see, I knew you weren’t like the rest of my victims when you were on your knees begging for your life” he continued, his voice a low whisper. “The way you looked at me when you were sobbing, the way your eyes wandered… Trophy, you really ought to know better. You want to get fucked by a serial killer, don’t you? What a pervert.”

You closed your eyes at those words, inhaling sharply as if Murdock had cut you with the knife he’d previously had in his hand. You knew he was right and god fucking damn it, that pissed you off. 

You opened your mouth to protest, but as Murdock’s hand slipped lower and rested on your lower thigh, you couldn’t help but let out another soft shudder. You’d been wearing shorts to bed that night, and you were starting to regret it as his fingertips circled the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. “Oh, my prize, you’re pathetic. You’re like putty under my touch, aren’t you?” 

“Get your hands off me,” you hiss. Even though you protest, fuck, you just want him to move his fingers in between your legs and fuck you open with his hand.  

“‘Get your hands off me, Murdock’,” he mocked. “Oh, come on. We both know you’re one step away from begging for me like you were the other night. Look at how your body reacts to my touch.” He moves to whisper in your ear, one of his gloved fingers moving to play with the band of your underwear. “If you want me to keep going, tell me now. If not, well… I can always just leave.”

A defeated whine leaves your throat, and you bare your neck to him. “Please…” you whisper, letting out a little gasp as his lips press against your pulse point. “Fuck, please fuck me.”

Murdock lets out a quiet chuckle, his tongue darting out to taste your skin as his fingers slip under your waistband and brush against your sensitive sex. You were practically dripping for him already, unable to control your ragged breathing as he began moving his fingers in soft circles. 

“Perfect,” he whispered, dragging his teeth along your skin and moving the hand that had previously been gripping your throat up to tangle in your hair. “Let me know if you need me to stop, trophy.” As he works over you with his fingers, stopping was the last thing on your mind. You let out a soft moan as Murdock began sucking a mark into the skin where your shoulder met the base of your neck, arching into his touch slightly. 

“Fuck, please don’t stop,” you whined, your thighs twitching slightly as a coil began tightening in your stomach. The feeling of Murdock’s gloves on your overly-sensitive skin was overwhelming, making your hips roll against his hand gently. 

“God, look at you,” he practically moaned between kisses to your neck. “So pathetic when I’m touching you like this.” His mocking only served to make you more overwhelmed, letting out a soft gasp as he applied more pressure to your sex. 

“I bet you’d like it if I bent you halfway out the window and fucked you until the whole neighborhood knew you were mine, huh?” he continued, before biting into your neck and making you moan out. 

His tongue ran over the indents in your skin, soothing the pain. You felt the coil in your gut tightening, unable to form a coherent thought as Murdock’s fingers worked over your arousal. “Or maybe I should put a gag on you, huh? So only I can see or hear how much you like my hands on you.”

Your hips are now shamelessly grinding against his hand, shivering softly and attempting to chase that high that you so desperately wanted. Your breath is coming out in sharp gasps and shivers, just so fucking close to reaching that high, and…

Murdock pulled his hand away, leaving you to grind against nothing but the cold air of your bedroom. “Oh, trophy, you didn’t actually think I was going to reward you after pulling a stunt like that, did you?” he teased, running his tongue up your neck once more before stepping away and looking over his gloves. 

The leather was covered in your slick, and you barely got a chance to look at him before he licked your juices off his fingers and let out a quiet moan at the taste. “Maybe if you’re good next time I visit, I’ll fuck you just as good as you deserve, yeah?”

[claire-starsword]

Shining Wisdom Guide Translation

While I take a break from the SF1 guide book let’s take a look on stuff from other games. I did not find scans of Shining Wisdom stuff online but someone on deviantart kindly sent me these. So let’s go, starting with a prologue of the game:

The small country of Odegan, at the northern part of the Parmecia continent. Surrounded by mountains and ocean in all directions, this country has lived a long time of peace, without invasions from other countries or natural disasters. But, there's a legend told in this land since ancient times.

A long time ago, when the gods still lived alongside humans in the land, an evil giant was born in the depths of the Demon World. Calling himself "Surt", the giant who carried this dark blood began spreading disaster through the once peaceful land. The gods who watched upon this grave situation used the power of the four spirits -the Earth Djinn, Water Djinn, Fire Djinn and Wind Djinn- and sealed Surt in the Demon World. However, even as Surt was being sealed, the giant retaliated to take control of the four djinns' minds. As their last resort to prevent destruction, the gods sealed the four djinns in labyrinths deep under the earth at various places around Odegan.

And thus time went by. Surt's name became just something to scare children who don't obey their parents, and the true terror of the giant was long forgotten.

One day, deep in the night when only the night guard should be awake, the king of Odegan and the minister were in a room deep within Odegan's castle, in an unusual discussion of the country's situation. Their discussion was about the surviving devils of the war at South Parmecia, which were said to have secretly slipped into Odegan. For now, they concluded they couldn't be planning anything big with their little country, and thus settled their talk. Suddenly, as if dripping from beyond the wall, a single shadow appeared! That shadow was the rumored devil, the dark elf Pazort. Turning to the terrified king and minister, Pazort flashed a shrewd smile and began to speak. He had cast a sleeping curse on the king's only daughter, Satera. He would only dispel the curse if given the Djinn Orbs in the hidden royal treasury, and after the following words he disappeared:

"Listen well, this shouldn't reach anyone else's ears! Especially of those hobbits from the west. If you say a single word the princess will... Ohoho, I'm sure you understand..."

At last that evil presence was gone, leaving only the silence, and the standing king and minister that wouldn't dare say a thing. The next day, Princess Satera did not open her eyes and continued to sleep, and the people of the city began to question things as the guard patrol suddenly became harsher. And thus the story begins...

The name Surt comes from a giant in norse mythology.

Next on are some short character bios.

Protagonist - Mars

The only son of the hero Giles who saved Odegan from a dragon ten years ago. He was raised by his grandparents who were a bit overprotective, but is sure to become a great soldier serving the castle of Odegan through this journey. He's still only halfway there, but is a lively young man with hero blood in his veins.

not sure what part of "go grandson ram yourself into some monsters!" is overprotective but you do you, guide book

Princess Satera [aka prepare for one whole paragraph of pure misogyny]

The only daughter of the king of Odegan, beloved by the citizens, and the love interest in this story. She's targeted by the dark elf Pazort at the start of the story, but when a girl in that age goes around showing that much skin, it's natural that not just Pazort would be making a move.

[every word of that hurt as it came from my fingers i legit did not want to translate that lmao, but someone would ask where Satera's part was anyway, also there's no hiding that this series was garbage to their girls anyway]

King of Odegan

An unusually gentle king, but still from the noble line that has ruled this country for generations. However, his  beloved daughter, Princess Satera, is his weak spot, and at times he's just a doting parent.

Minister

An advisor to the unreliable king of Odegan, he's a bit hard to please. Lately, plenty of incidents keep happening in the country, so it seems his troubles have no end.

Kaipa

A good friend of Mars's father, Giles, and the captain of the guard, aiding the king of Odegan along with the minister. Also Mars' direct superior.

Alfred

A new soldier who has still been around for a little longer than Mars. To be frank, he has only a minor role, but gives some advice at the beginning.

Fairy

A fairy that supports Mars from behind the scenes by the orders of the sage Ishaha Kat. From her devotion, you can feel she's not doing it just as her duty.

Big note here: the european version romanized the sage's name as Ishaha Cut, and I don't blame them as it's as good as any other adaptation without further context. However I found the context. While I haven't played Shining Force 3, Ishahakat seems to show up there and Camelot themselves gave this romanization, because read backwards it becomes "Takahashi", the surname of Hiroyuki Takahashi, producer of most classic Shining games (with only Final Conflict being produced by his brother, Shugo Takahashi, who also worked in the other games).

With that said, unlike SF3, Shining Wisdom does put a space in the name, so I reflected that in the translation as well.

Hobbits

A kind tribe of half-fairies who live within the forest of the western region. Knowing of the incident at Odegan's castle, they went out of their way to check on the situation.

This is the first time I see some attempt on defining what hobbits are in this setting, and they do have pointy ears like fairies, but didn't in previous games so I doubt this was always the intention. I'm gonna go off-topic a bit here to ramble on Shining's hobbits and dwarves. Here's a wack line from the game itself:

"Cultural exchanges of the hobbit tribe! Our friends who crossed over to Granseal Island might have become Mithril craftsmen."

This seems to be a reference to the Mithril diggers/craftsmen from SF2. Which are very clearly referred to as dwarves in that game. Also Granseal was the name of the kingdom, the island is just Grans. This whole line is a mess. It is possible that they meant "cultural exchanges" with dwarves, but since dwarves aren't mentioned anywhere in this game it doesn't really come across that way. Besides, several characters of previous games are inconsistently labelled as hobbit or dwarf through different manuals/guides. So my general point: don't think too hard about these races in the Shining series. They did not care much.

Back to the guide:

Elves

A couple of elves who seem to be acquaintances of the hobbits, but seem to be hiding some secret as well. They don't seem to be a couple in the romantic sense though...

I don't know what hurts more, the fact that they aren't mentioned by name or having to see what they did to Kazin's hair up close. Oh yeah Sarah doesn't even get a picture. Hooray.

As for the "hiding a secret" part? Yeah I don't know what's that about either! I don't remember a single part of the game where they aren't acting together with the hobbits. They do act a bit suspicious at the beginning of the game but that's it.

Might as well take this moment to mention something I learned from this guide and haven't seen in any playthroughs so far: there is a very easy to miss scene with these two at the start of the game. After talking to them at the castle gates, if you return to the city's inn and talk to the owner, you can see Sarah and Kazin returning to their room there. Go up the stairs and the rooms will all be locked but you can overhear them talking, and as you leave the inn they'll comment on Mars, which I guess is when Kazin decides to leave Mars with the vigilance amulet or whatever it's called. None of that really matters to the plot in the end, but it's a pretty hidden scene so I figured i'd mention it.

Pazort

The dark elf mage working day and night in the shadows to revive Surt, with an elite four under his command. His magical power is said to be one of the greatest in Parmecia,, and is very sure of himself. Perhaps because of that, he leaves plenty of opportunities for Mars to exploit against him.

Canonically incompetent lmao

If you follow more japanese series you might be familiar with the term 四天王 (shitennou) used here, which translates literally to "four heavenly kings" and is frequently used to give some flair to groups of four characters (I'm fairly sure the SF2 and SFCD antagonists are referred to with it as well). I borrowed Pokemon's “elite four” translation instead because it's better than referring to a group of devils as heavenly and leading everyone to overthink what's just a regular flair in japanese games.

Nuug

One of Pazort's elite four with a peculiar appearance. Unlike what you'd expect from his huge body, he's skilled in aerial battles. He seems to worship Karry like a goddess.

Karry

A sexy dark elf woman. The only woman in Pazort's elite four. In contrast to that beauty of hers, she spins around an iron ball with huge strength. Also known as the Wrecking Ball Woman.

[Her nickname in japanese is "female ブンブン丸 (bunbunmaru)", which in this context seems to be a nickname for baseball players with strong swings. I don't know enough about baseball to know if there's an english equivalent and Home Run Woman didn't sound good at all, so I gave up on the baseball and just picked what's a way more obvious nickname to me. It took all of my strength to not just call her Batterwitch. Except I'm mentioning it here so actually i have no strength.]

Banbo

An elite four with a plump body resembling a frog. He talks with a lighthearted tone, and is skilled in magic to control people. However, when in places without water his magical power is halved.

Gueid

With muscles atypical of a dark elf and a frightening iron mask, he stands out the most among the elite four. Such grandiosity is befitting of the title "Living Volcano".

The literal translation of his nickname is "walking pyroclastic flow", except that's way too long in english to flow like a proper nickname.

The rest of the guide isn’t too interesting. There’s an item and spell that i’ll be posting separately later because the text isn’t important, but Mars’ pictures are adorable and deserve their own post. Then there’s dungeon maps which, I guess I could post if anyone cares, but it’s not worth translating, as they only give hints to some puzzles instead of a complete explanation. The most interesting hint is the Sarah and Kazin event at the inn which I’ve already talked about.

Perhaps it is also worth mentioning that they divide the game in three chapters, despite there being no such division in the game itself. So if you’re curious they are:

Chapter 1: The Kidnapped Princess Satera (from the start of the game to Karry stealing the orbs)

Chapter 2: The Freed Four Djinns (the first three elemental dungeons)

Chapter 3: Seeking the Shining Sword (from freeing the hobbits to the end of the game)

At the end of each part of the guide there are sections by the Fairy giving some extra tips or trivia. None of them matter much but I know people would be mad if I didn’t translate the third one:

The Fairy's Advice Corner

Part 3 ~ Behind the setting of "Wisdom"

When you travel around the world for work (?), you'll meet many other countries besides Odegan, with their own incidents and troubles. Let's take a break in this harsh journey to breathe, and talk about those other countries as well.

What are the connections with other times of the "Shining" series?

This incident with Pazort is big trouble indeed. But, if you take a look at this big wide world, plenty of other huge events have happened as well.

For example, not too long ago, in the western region of this very continent of Parmecia, there was a war against the devil army led by the demon king Zeon (Shining Force II), the elves Kazin and Sarah played a big part in it. And the tribe led by relatives of those hobbits have also helped human armies time and time again it seems. Besides that, from what Master Ishaha Kat’s crystal ball showed me of the future, a grave incident will happen in the country of Thornwood that has just been founded (Shining in the Darkness). Perhaps you've heard something about that as well.

Thornwood is called ストームサング (Stormsang, yes “sang” not “song”, this might be in some language i'm not recognizing) in the japanese version, no clue why it was changed but i kept the change so more people could recognize it.

Zeon's name is mispelled as Zenon in this page, but it's correct in game.

Let's continue the hobbit discourse. The word i've been translating as tribe so far, 一族, is kind of ambiguous and could be referring to the whole race, not just a tribe. So that line might be saying that hobbits of other games are related to these guys, or it is just the world's most generic comment of "hey the other games had the hobbit race too". Either way is a very vague comment.

Shining in the Darkness

-The first installment of the Shining series. You can read about its setting, the kingdom of Thornwood, in a bookshelf.

Or you can read about it right here because this post is already gigantic but i can always make it worse with my collection of 500+ screenshots:

"A rising nation, the rich country of Thornwood! This country has been quickly standing out and is a thriving spot of cultural mingling between species."

Shining Force II

-Kazin and Sarah first debutted in Shining Force II. Kazin was a mage and Sarah a priest.

"The war on Western Parmecia! A battle between the Demon World army seeking to revive one of the three demon lords, Zeon, and the Granseal army led by Bowie."

-The war heard of here is the story of Force II.

-The great enemy in Force II, Oddeye. There seems to be some link between him and Pazort...?

Finally, only at the very last of these sections did they decide to actually have fun with the Fairy's narration instead of just writing out tips, so it's worth putting it here too:

The Fairy's Advice Corner

Part 5 ~ Secrets of Equippable Items

Found in one of the secret rooms in the overworld, the legendary off-road car "Toydona USA". The truth is, there's an unbelievable secret about this car. My advice corner has some valuable information, just for you~

Become swift as the wind! The Time Attack mode was found!!

Breaking news, breaking news! I'm sure you've got the ancient off-road car "Toydona USA", right? With that car, it seems you can go have fun in a car race. Uh? How do you get there? Uhhh, you see... Oh my, I'm sorry. I left Gudo Valley in kind of a hurry, and completely forgot the way to that race. First of all, I guess you have to get on the Toydona, and talk to someone somewhere... I really don't remember, ahahahaha. Well, let's put that aside. Anyway, they say that if you get a good time on that race, you'll be given a wonderful prize. Shouldn't you try the challenge at least once?

-Having the Small Orb would make running easier...

-If you manage three laps in this course in less than 1 minutes and 30 seconds, you'll get a certain item.

With the Monkey Suit and the ****** Orb...?

Hey hey, more breaking news! In the main hall of Odegan's castle, they said a giant monkey appeared out of nowhere!! Oh, the minister and Sir Kaipa were super flustered, and the king passed out foaming at the mouth. Princess Satera had her eyes down and her shoulders trembling so much... She must have been in shock. Oh? You're trembling just the same... Are you laughing!? Eeh? You mean that giant monkey was your doing, and Princess Satera knew? That was way too far for a prank, go apologize to His Majesty right now!! Huuh, you're saying it wasn't on purpose? You mixed up the Monkey Suit and... hmm, hmm... and equipping both at the same time by mistake you ended up turning into a giant. From here on, be more careful, alright?

[heneversmiledagain]

an address to a rural congregation

I decided to write a poem about my experiences with religion and being part of a religious family. I wrote this at 7 in the morning, hence why it is rather rushed, but I quite liked the rushed feel. So here we are.

(sorry it's so long, I can't make anything concise)

****

You were always a Christian

Go to church each week and

Pray kind of Christian

Burn in Hell or play in Heaven kind of Christian

You glowed with righteousness

Bright as the sun and just

As painful to look upon

As you boast that you know that

There is eternal life beyond this

Pain is just a test of strength don’t

Cry for the murdered

For they shall dance forever in Heaven

I never went to church

Apart from for Christmas when you

Made me stumble to midnight mass

Stars like fairy lights

I said no I hate it here I hate the tree

Cut from its root and destined to die

Shedding its skin onto the flagstones

The smell of death and stone haunts churches

I hope that religion can burn in its own Hell

I hate Christianity for what it has done

A hypocrite is a hard person to love

Remember the yellow stars

Something so small a Christmas decoration

Just a marker until there were

As many stars on the earth

As stars in the sky

Every star telling everyone who you were

A betrayal

But the stars meant us and them

To everyone else

I hate it all I say even from the days

When chivalry was like a spring

Tumbling cutting ravines

Growing and the Holy Land

Was fought over with unholy wars

And the red cross of St George

Was rivers of blood

And the us and the them

Was fuelled with promises of Heaven

They killed with your righteous joy

Do Christians burn in Hell

Or just the myriad others?

Gold thirst drove the ships

Like a strong wind blowing

From every harbour

Seeking cities of gold and fountains of youth

You plundered the land for your God

Saying you were bringing light

To those in darkness

Yet you cannot see for the smoke

If they were warlike what of it?

No soul is perfect or un-damned

Cruelty is no excuse for cruelty

And yet you moved northwards

Northwards still with the cold wind

Move you said with triumphant trumpets

Carved a stone to mark your arrival

The first feet on virgin soil raise your churches

Merry Christmas Happy Thanksgiving

Hang a banner from every church

PEACE ON EARTH GOOD WILL TO ALL MEN

The white cloth marred by those letters

You will have no peace

You don’t understand you say

No hate was ever spewed

From religion’s mouth

And I say what of guns and churches

Now who turn from their doors

The most vulnerable the welcome sign

Taken down and stowed from sight

Doors bolted to protect the children

Do you hate colour so much?

You want your world to be in black and white

Are you scared of me?

I do not want your fear

Or to see you turn your backs on me

This is why I cannot confide in you

For you say you love me until you cannot

If you say that I am corrupting the children

Then I will reply that you are

Stealing their innocence far better than I ever could

I who just want to live

Not in the shadow of the columns of your crypts

But soar in the nave with the singing

Of the hymns each evensong

When I was young I gave the vicar a chocolate

And he led me round the church clutching

The wooden statue of Mary

Smoothed by many loving hands

And now held in mine clammy and over small

I was an example to the others

Of how you could find salvation

To scold the bad children chewing their chocolates

For their sin in that moment

I would have rather been one of them

In their multitude

For I was a prized lost sheep

Lead back into the fold

Before my wool was folded into a

Modern golden fleece

Hung from the steeple as an example

I hate you I say now and I said

Ever since you full of stories

And especially fond of the Wild West

Cowboys riding rodeos in her mind

Sang to me a song

An old song about a man who loved religion

So much he grew to hate

Everything else in the world

And all that was fine and all that was evil

Became merged in his mind

For he was a man who should have loved

And yet only found hate

And the man he killed everyone hated

And yet he only ever showed love

And who was the true savage

He who turns bitter spits and snarls

And his eyes glow with a fanatic’s fire

And he took his gun when the sun

Was low and the trees were bare

And killed three hundred innocent people

And he rejoiced for he walked free

And you say that he will meet his punishment in death

But he sent so many to their deaths

So why should he wait for his?

You only sang that song to me once

And then was silent about it forever

But it plays in my mind every day

Ever since I found while reading

The story of the parson the crimson parson

And remembered it more vividly than ever

For it was real and three hundred times more terrible

And it plays in my mind and I hear it

For it calls to me about him and the words

Are so cold and impersonal

Like a science lesson and yet held behind them

Are all the emotion of three hundred losses

And what it means for us and what we did

What we did to them but the us and the them

Is over for we only need us if

We are to be truly Christian and if we

Are not to be the crimson parson

And if enduring pain without

A word is strength

And will send you to Heaven

When you have died under

The weight of your burden

Then I want to be weak

And I will burn in Hell for it

But I cannot endure this any more

In silence without my words

Tumbling out like stones cast

In the depths of a millpond

So I hate you but I wanted to say

What I have always wanted to say

But I have never found the words

Is that I wanted so hard

To love you.

****

Before you ask, it's meant to not have any punctation. Writing this was an outpouring of my emotions and my unanswered questions, hence why the only punctuation (other than the full stop at the end) are question marks.

I will include a more detailed description of the choices I made while writing in a later post.

[braveclementine]

Returning Home

Warnings: Angst and fluff

Copyright: I do not own any Marvel characters or locations. However, I do own my OCs, which consist of Penny Fury, Elizabeth Nelson, Elijah Chan, Katya Venice, Violetta Moscow, Lan Le, Josh, Trang Tien, Ahni Jallow, Mai Ito, and Ghaida Kashual as well as other OCs that will come up throughout the story.

This one was a little better. It's much darker blue than I was hoping and I would actually switch the colours. Replace the gold with ice blue and the dark blue with gold. But other than that, I mean it looks a lot better than the other one it originally made. 

🌝😯 𝐒𝓣ᵒ𝐑𝕐 🏇🌛

They stayed for a while, until Steve and Bucky walked in on Elizabeth and Loki sleeping in a bath of ice together to stay cold, and it was decided that they should return to the states and back to the Avengers Tower.

Besides the weird tracking dinosaurs, there was nothing else that had troubled them on their vacation and Penny was excited to get back to work. She had missed the Avengers that had stayed behind like Scott, Hope, and her parents. As well as T'Challa and the Asgardians.

She was also missing Heimdall, who hadn't been down to see them in a long while. Loki had explained privately that Heimdall didn't want to see Elizabeth, because he loved her to much to see her looking at him without love.

Penny wasn't sure that was the smartest move on the all-seeing Gods' part. She felt it would be better for him to establish a connection with her soon. Especially with Mateo growing up without his father.

But Penny didn't say anything. She remembered what Elijah had said about a powerful memory could bring Elizabeth's memories back. Maybe. . . just maybe, Heimdall knew something they didn't.

She collapsed on top of her bed on her face, groaning. She barely got two seconds of peace before Natasha had thrown the door wide open and was collapsing on her bed as well.

"Cuddle me." Natasha demanded, laying on her side, her stomach protruding largely.

Penny rolled over on her back and then let Natasha lay in her arms. "What's up sweetheart?"

"I have jet lag and I want you to hold me." Natasha demanded, not opening her eyes.

Penny chuckled at that. "Sleep tight. Don't let the bedbugs bite. I love you"

🧘‍♀️🫰 ＴⒾ𝓶ε ŜкⒾⓟ 🚿🤟

"Hey," Violetta said softly as Penny walked into the Italian Black Widow's bedroom. She was curled up on the bed, watching Bones on her laptop, eating Cherry Cordial Ice-cream. She was wearing a purple tube top so that nothing was covering her large baby bump, and her hair was pulled back in a loose bun. She looked tired as well.

Penny was holding Chamber in her arms and smiled at the girl, coming over and gently easing herself onto the bed. "Hey."

She felt Violetta rest her head on her shoulder, snuggling into the albino woman. Penny gently placed Chamber on the bed so that she could help Violetta get comfortable in her lap, and then picked Chamber up once more.

"How are you feeling sweetie?" Penny asked softly, using her free hand to rub soothing circles on Violetta's back.

"Mmm, okay." Violetta hummed, putting the ice-cream aside and snuggling into her more. "I'm a little worried though. There's still roughly three months, but I think I'm getting contractions. I- I don't. . ." Her voice wobbled. "I don't want to lose my baby."

"Vi. . ." Penny said softly, looking down to capture the worried, almost panicked look in her brown eyes.

"I mean. . . I don't know how to do this." Violetta's voice sounded choked. "Like, Bruce has never had a kid. We don't know what the Hulk gene is going to do. What if. . . I can't lose this baby Penny. I can't."

"It's okay." Penny said, letting her hand rub Vi's shoulders again. "They're just Braxton Hicks contractions. You can get them up to 20 weeks before you're due. You're okay Vi. And if you're still worried, let's go down to the lab and ask Stephen or Dr. Cho or Bruce to run tests. You don't have to be scared alone."

Vi nodded, fingers tightening a little on Penny's shirt. "I'm sorry."

Penny giggled, "There's nothing to be sorry for silly. I'm happy you confided in me. Now, what do you want to do?"

"Let's. . . I want a professional to tell me everythings okay." Violetta breathed out. "I just need to know for sure, one hundred percent, that I'm not losing this baby."

"Okay." Penny said softly, picking Chamber up in one arm again, sliding her fingers through Vi's. "Come on. I'll go with you."

"Thanks." Violetta said sniffing. "Give me a second."

Penny smiled endearingly, watching Violetta wiped under her eyes, checking her face in the mirror.

"You don't have to hide your emotions." Penny whispered softly.

"Natasha can." Violetta said simply, patting under her eyes with a tissue. "And I want to be just like her."

"She's your role model?" Penny asked softly.

"Always has been, even when I was in the red room. She was famous, amongst us. The best Black Widow that the KBG had. I dreamed that I could be just like her. I. . ." Violetta sighed. "I performed my missions perfectly, killed so easily, because I hoped they would put me on a team with her. I climbed ranks faster at the age of thirteen than anyone ever had in the Italian red room. I was the prized assassin."

Penny stood up now, coming up behind the Italian and hugging her from behind, resting her chin on her shoulder, letting her talk.

"I took countless lives and for what? Good people, bad people, it doesn't matter anymore. I've killed so many people. . ." Tears leaked from Violetta's eyes again and she buried her face in her hands. "For what? Simply so I could meet someone. For selfish gain. I don't know anything about the people. Wives, Husbands, soulmates, children, families, pets. . ."

"Vi." Penny said firmly, coming around to the front now, cupping her face with her free hand. "It's in the past now. All you can do now is continue to move forward. Just keep walking. Now, you work to save lives." Penny kissed her gently on the lips. "Now, come."

Penny took Violetta's hand once more, this time not waiting for her to dry her face. Violetta went with her easily and the two of them went down to the lab.

"Hey Penny, Vi." Tony greeted them, barely looking up for a second before back down on his robot. Trang was fast asleep on the couch in the corner of the room, a blanket over her body, her glasses on the side table. Bruce immediately looked up from where he was working, walking around the table to approach them.

"Vi?" Bruce asked in concern and Penny let Bruce fold Violetta into his arms, "What's wrong honey?"

Vi sniffed and Penny said, "We just want to check and make sure the baby is healthy. She said she's getting painful contractions and she's worried. I think their just Braxton Hicks, but we want a professional opinion."

Tony was paying attention now, leaning on the box, a wrench still in his hand. "Trangs got the same thing going on. I thought maybe it was a side-effect from the magical pregnancy stuff. I talked to Thor about it and he said they're Braxton Hicks. But I can still call Stephen up and he can give you a check up?"

Violetta just nodded and it didn't take long for the Wizard to show up and ease Violetta's concerns in under ten minutes.

Violetta surprised Penny by bursting into tears and immediately hiding her face in her hands, even turning her shoulders towards the guys as though to hide from them.

"Ah Vi." Bruce said softly, hugging her from behind, resting his lips on the top of her head. Trang was starting to stir on the couch now as well.

"Hey." Penny said softly, taking Vi's hand into her own.

"Sorry. Hold on. One second." Violetta muttered, mopping furiously at her face.

"Miele!" Natasha's voice suddenly sounded through the room and Penny looked up to see the red head near sprinting- as best she could while pregnant- over to Violetta's side. Penny smiled to herself, noting that Natasha had spoken Italian in her concern, not Russian.

"Wait, no." Violetta hiccupped, trying to hide her face from Natasha now, rubbing under her eyes furiously. "I'm sorry."

"Stupida." Natasha said fondly, sitting on the other side of Violetta. Tony and Stephen both retreated to Trang's side, whispering quietly to her. Penny sat at the foot of the examination table. "You don't have to hide your emotions."

"I'm not weak." Violetta muttered, wiping her eyes once more, looking frustrated.

Natasha brushed her fizzy brown hair back from Violetta's face. "No, you're not weak Мед." Nat slipped back into her Russian nickname fondly. "Showing emotions is never weak."

"You don't." Violetta huffed, covering her eyes with her hands now, since the tears wouldn't stop.

Natasha was silently for a long time and then finally whispered. "It's not a sign of strength that I don't show emotions. It's a sign of fear. Fear to show my emotions because. . . I mean I don't have to tell you what they do in the red room." Nat pulled Violetta into her arms.

Penny felt hands on her shoulders and looked up to see Stephen behind her. He kissed the top of her head. She tilted back a little to kiss his cheek and then motioned to Chamber, who he took silently in his arms.

"I want to show my emotions." The Russian said to the Italian. "You're so much stronger than me, to be able to do so."

Bruce very slowly wrapped Violetta in his arms, pulling her into him from behind, while Natasha hugged her from the front. Stephen slipped his hand into Penny's and she allowed him to lead her from the room, the two of them heading upstairs on the elevator.

"You okay?" Stephen asked softly, raising her hand to kiss the back of it.

Penny looked up at him and smiled gently. "I love watching everyone make progress. I don't know, something about seeing Violetta and Natasha open up to each other little by little excites me."

Stephen chuckled then as the doors opened. He lifted Chamber a little more in his other arm and then said jokingly. "No wonder you and Elijah get along so well."

Penny giggled, the two of them settling on the couch. She leaned on the arm of the couch and watched as Stephen cooed softly into Chamber's ear, making orange butterflies dance on his fingers while Chamber giggled.

Penny felt eyes and looked up to see the God of mischief leaning against the wall, a small, secret smile hidden behind his fingers as he watched his soulmate with the little boy. Loki looked up, meeting Penny's eyes and winked, but stayed quiet.

"Are you going to join us or watch from the kitchen?" Stephen chuckled without looking over. Penny glanced between the two, slightly surprised, as she hadn't seen Stephen look at Loki.

Loki sauntered over, rolling his eyes playfully, scooping Chamber out of Stephen's arms, settling on the floor by Stephens' feet with him. "One day I'll sneak up on you."

Stephen chuckled, reaching down so that he could place his hand on his head. He reached his other arm over, placing his hand on Penny's upper thigh. His fingers rubbed the inside of her thigh slowly. Penny shivered a little at the sensation.

Penny rested against the couch, watching Loki cradle Chamber in his arms. There was a tenderness to which he held the child and Penny tilted her head a little. "Lokes? Are you. . . okay?"

Loki sighed and Stephen ran his fingers through the long black locks again in a comforting way. "I had a daughter once."

Penny blinked in surprise, but said nothing. Loki got up off the floor, sitting down on the couch, keeping his eyes only on Chamber.

"It was many, many years ago. She would be. . . thirty-seven I believe in human years. She wasn't actually mine, but I raised her. I. . ." Loki drifted off again. "I never wanted to raise her. I just. . ." Loki shook his head, looking off at the wall.

Penny reached over, squeezing his hand, "It's okay Loki."

"I just wish I had done better." Loki sighed, now meeting her eyes. "I swear I will do right by all of our children Penny. I will be the best father possible, I promise."

Penny smiled and Stephen smiled affectionately at him. "Just be yourself with the kids Lokes." Penny whispered softly. "That's the best you and the best father version of you. Being yourself. You can't do anything about the past, but you can do right by the future."

She leaned up and kissed him on the lips.

"Now then," She whispered softly, wanting to help him forget. "How about we head on upstairs, lay Chamber down for a nap, and then fool around in the bed?"

Loki cupped her face softly, seeming to be looking into her soul. "I'm not saying no but. . . " He hesitated, looking anxious.

"Bubs." Stephen said softly, "What do you want?"

"I kind've. . ." Loki looked away, blushing furiously as though embarrassed, "Kind've just want to lay in bed with you two and Chamber. I kind've just want to watch him for a little bit. And just. . ."

"Cuddle." Stephen finished, kissing his cheek. "Then that's what we do. Penny?"

Penny smiled, kissing Loki again. "I love it." 

[steveezekiel]

THE CONTENDING POWERS

18 THEN I looked up and saw FOUR ANIMAL HORNS. 19 “What are these?” I asked the angel who was talking with me. He replied, “ THESE HORNS REPRESENT THE NATIONS THAT SCATTERED JUDAH, ISRAEL, AND JERUSALEM.” 20 Then the Lord showed me FOUR BLACKSMITHS [craftsmen or carpenters]. 21 “What are these men coming to do?” I asked. The angel replied, “These FOUR HORNS—these nations—SCATTERED and HUMBLED JUDAH. NOW these BLACKSMITHS HAVE COME TO TERRIFY THOSE NATIONS and THROW THEM DOWN and DESTROY THEM.” Zechariah 1:18-21 (NLT)

God revealed to Zechariah the prophet, the horns of the gentiles that were scattering and humbling the nation of Judah, that no one could lift his or her Head for the liberation of the land.

A number of people who professed to be Believers are battling with one problem or another, but do not know that those problems are caused by the forces of darkness.

The spiritual realm controls the physical realm. There are powers behind every problem or predicament. IT has not just happened, there is something behind it.

Surprisingly, some people do not believe in the reality of the spiritual realm. Some do not even believe in the existence of the devil and demons. And some who did, did not know the extent of the devil's operations, what the devil and his cohorts do.

Battling prayer.

Battling prayer is one of the types of Prayers found in the Scripture.

Most of the problems, challenges, which confronted the Believers in life are largely spiritual. But many Believers are naive, and they trivialize or play down, that is, make little of, the works of the devil and his cohorts—in their approach to it.

The horns revealed to Zechariah, by God, were the world powers behind the oppressions, the problems of Judah—the people of God.

The horns scattered Judah, Israel, and Jerusalem. They were scattered so that no one would be able to lift up his head to fight back.

The scattering was strategic, because, Judah was supposed to produce the leader, the king, whilst Jerusalem which supposed to be the capital of the nation was made unsettle. And the people of Israel being scattered could not come together as a nation.

Ever before this revelation, the leaders of Israel knew nothing about the battle they were fighting, they did not know it was spiritual and was being masterminded by the forces of darkness.

The Believers, and most especially those who work in the ministry, are wrestling with powers of darkness: 12 FOR WE ARE NOT FIGHTING AGAINST FLESH-AND-BLOOD ENEMIES, But AGAINST EVIL RULERS And AUTHORITIES OF THE UNSEEN WORLD, against mighty POWERS IN THIS DARK WORLD, and AGAINST EVIL SPIRITS IN THE HEAVENLY PLACES. 13 Therefore, PUT ON every piece of God’s ARMOUR SO you will be able to RESIST THE ENEMY IN THE TIME OF EVIL. Then after THE BATTLE you will STILL be STANDING FIRM" (Ephesians 6:12,13 NLT).

The devil would not come in the physical form to fight, but through fellow humans.

The horns, the forces of darkness, were using the gentile kings, rulers, to oppress and scatter Israel as a nation, and would not want any person to stand as a leader from the tribe of Judah, for the rescue or liberation of the land. JERUSALEM was made not to have peace, that there might not be any seat for prospective government.

The devil uses humans as instruments to carry out his nefarious activities. He has people who had dedicated their lives to him, whom he uses as agents and instruments in carrying out his nefarious Acts—operations.

To counter whatever the devil had planned or purposed to do, God sent the craftsmen or the blacksmiths to terrify, frighten or scare, and throw them down, and destroy those horns that had scattered Judah, Israel, and Jerusalem.

Being a Craftsman or a blacksmith means, being a Believer who is strong in prayer, dealing with powers of darkness that may come as a threat, to trouble and hinder you, your work, and those who are identified with you.

Whether you believe it or not, there are horns, powers of darkness, being used by the devil to contend with the progress of Believers who strive to do and fulfil God's Will, or the assignment given to them.

Wishing that such is not a reality could not stop the devil from operating. Some believe If they had the believe that the devil does not exist, or not real, he would not have anything to do with them and would not attack them.

You would not need to pray or speak about the devil before he challenges you. If you are a Believer who lives in line with the Word of God, and works towards the expansion of the Kingdom of God on earth; you are automatically an enemy to the devil. Because your life and what you do, are against his work and kingdom.

The devil would want people to believe that he is not real, because his works and operations thrive where Ignorance reigns.

If you lacked the knowledge of the operations of the dark kingdom, the devil and his cohorts are always happy with it. THEY are, because you would not be able to Resist them in their operations: 8 BE SOBER, BE VIGILANT; because YOUR ADVERSARY THE DEVIL WALKS ABOUT LIKE A ROARING LION, seeking whom he may devour. 9 RESIST HIM, STEADFAST IN THE FAITH, knowing that the same sufferings are experienced by your brotherhood in the world" (1 Peter 5:8,9 NKJV).

There are horns, powers of darkness, meant or assigned to challenge the success of the Believers. You had to build your spiritual muscles, through the Word of God and prayers, to terrify, pull or throw down, and destroy the work of the devil and his cohorts.

Every horn of darkness scattering, or frustrating your efforts in whatever you do, is judged and condemned in Jesus' name.

You are a potential winner, victor, triumphant, and overcomer or surmounter; you cannot lose in the battle which the devil might bring your way: 4 FOR every child of God defeats this evil world, and WE ACHIEVE THIS VICTORY THROUGH OUR FAITH. 5 And who can win this battle against the world? ONLY THOSE WHO BELIEVE THAT JESUS IS THE SON OF GOD" (1 John 5:4,5 NLT).

All you need is to keep away from Sin, live in line with the Word of God, pray without ceasing, and be sensitive to the leadings of the Holy Spirit on the inside of you.

Prophetic prayers

Do not be discouraged, It is well with you, I see people congratulating you, in the mighty name of Jesus.

You may have thought it has finished, but God says there is hope for you in Jesus' name.

Some of those who ganged up against you will come and leak the dust of your feet in Jesus' name.

Some would go to their hidden as you come out victoriously in the Battle in Jesus' name.

You will overcome, you will not die in that predicament in Jesus' name.

Your tears are mopped in the mighty name of Jesus Christ.

That hold of sickness you had been battling with, is broken and destroyed in the mighty name of Jesus Christ.

The Affliction will never rise again in Jesus' name. Peace!

[the-hem]

"The Anchor." From the Maha Upanishad, the Exploration of the Mysteries of the Atman.

VI-2. ‘By means of the trenchant and creative thought, "I am a non[1]agent in all contexts", there remains but the (perception of) sameness, called, "supreme immortality".

VI-3. ‘In regard to all elaborations of pain due solely to one’s sense of agency, (finally) there remains but sameness when one’s mental constructions dwindle away.

VI-4. ‘This sameness, amidst all emotional moods, is the status grounded in Truth. Anchored in it the mind is no more reborn.

VI-5. ‘O, sage ! Renouncing all forms of agency and non-agency and abolishing the mind, you remain what you (really) are; be steadfast.

VI-6-7. ‘Stead-fast in the final stability, give up the very tendency to renunciation. Giving up everything together with its cause – the dichotomy between Spirit and mind, light and darkness, etc.; the latent impressions and what generates them – as well as the vibrations of vital breath, (be you) sky-like with a stilled intellect.

All that exists is found in the union between the Spirit and the human mind. Steadfastness in meditation closes out all thoughts, desires, and impressions that lead us astray, especially the ones in books that tell us fantasy wares must dominate our lives despite the fact they are harmful to us.

Karl Rove, an American Mormon Political Consultant thinks everyone should pray to His god, Jesus Christ but the man has done nothing but wreck the lives of others since he was born. He is responsible for 911, for the Election Fraud of 2016, the deaths of millions if not billions of persons. Because he fuels his approach with loyalty to Jesus Christ, people are willing to listen to him and do what he says, but nothing about the man, a filthy child molester is holy or scared to Christ.

Hamas is the same way- they do not adhere to the tenets of the Quran, we only think they do, and so do they. The Catholic Church whips young people and adults into a positively noxious froth over abortion, but Christ said nothing about it.

Pro-Life terrorists are responsible for the Election Fraud of 2016, the Capitol Coup and numerous rapes of men and women all around the world because the Church teaches false dogma. In the end the law chose to protect people from unwanted pregnancy and this enabled civil society to protect vulnerable people, heterosexual women, young people, and gay men and women  from profound sexual abuse. To this end, Pro-Life has been rendered illegal under the Rome Statute, Article 7.

For laws like the Rome Statutes to be effective, however, the Upanishad sayswe need to do to change the world out of its kiddie pajamas and put on adult clothes about these issues, to be at peace with the laws and the Law which state humanity has different priorities: the end of war, apartheid, poverty, violence, all the types of suffering that are raging like a fever across the surface of this world.

Once one is a non-agent in these things, one is automatically an instrument of God. This idea is lost on most people.