#i want to see wille grow as a person to go on the journey of healing even if it hurts and is messy

[evie-doesnt-write]

“Wille has gone through so fucking much from his shitty, neglectful, psychologically abusive parents, the death of Erik, the betrayal of August, his and Simon’s relationship issues, his mother becoming sick, finding out Erik was a homophobe, and so fucking much more, and he’s just a kid whose only support are his one friend and his boyfriend who are facing their own problems and nobody can blame him for not knowing how to deal with his emotions and having breakdowns” and “Wille is extremely flawed (as are everyone in this show) and never having been taught how how to deal with his emotions and problems in a healthy way and having little to no support system doesn’t change or excuse the fact that he constantly projects onto Simon, has internalised the mindset that Simon’s problems are far lesser than him, often behaves inconsiderate towards him and doesn’t listen or listen to Simon when he tries to talk to him and these are things he will need to work on, especially if he wants to keep a relationship with Simon” are not mutually exclusive statements

[thoughtsandmusingsandideas]

Dehya + Arlecchino Forgotten!Creator AU

A proper response to @ninjacomix sorry for the wait!

Dehya

You woke up in the deserts of Sumeru when you first arrived in Teyvat, so it’s no surprise that the first people you met were Eremites 

Unlike the Traveler, you are not immediately attacked- half because of your divinity subtly making them more docile, and half because you’re covered in sand and dressed in foreign clothes and practically melting under the sun- and yeah, you look too pathetic to rob

They end up taking you back to Aaru Village, and that’s where you end up meeting Dehya.

Well, technically you meet Dehya the day after you arrive, when you rush outside during a sandstorm and spot her fighting monsters

It’s a bit surreal, watching an actual fight like this, and you’re frozen in awe

At least until you notice the Rifthound sneaking up on her

You’re panicking as you lunge forward, feeling something begin to expand inside you, and-

Everything is still

Both the storm and the Rifthounds are frozen in place, and Dehya is looking at you, extremely confused

“What is this?!?” “HOW SHOULD I KNOW?!?!” “YOU’RE THE ONE DOING IT!!!!”

Dehya dispatches the Rifthounds quickly, and the sandstorm resumes

And the next day, the both of you set out towards the Akademiya, wanting to figure out what your deal is

(You don’t realize that now the gods are remembering the creator, the Akademiya is Scrambling to find any and all information on you and why they forgot you)

During the journey the both of you grow close, and a few weeks in, the both of you wrapped in a blanket to protect from the chill of a desert night, you turn to her.

“Hey, let’s get married.”

And after choking on her water, she agrees to it

Congratulations! You have a wife!

The Creator, showing up hand in hand with an Eremite is not what an Akademiya scholar expected to see at four in the morning on a random day, but that is what he saw- and he thinks the subsequent panic is very understandable

Before you know it, you and your new wife are sitting in the acting grand sages office as Nahida uses some kind of Archon communication to page the other Archons

It takes about an hour for them to burst through the door

(In that time you’ve taught Alhaitham and Dehya how to play Rock Paper Scissors, Go Fish, Uno, and you’re in the middle of teaching them slapjack. Alhaithams hands are suspiciously red and Dehya is smirking)

They’re instantly fretting over you, apologizing for forgetting you and generally praising you, completely overwhelming until Dehya pulls you away

“Hey! Who are you supposed to be!” It’s Venti, disappointed that his god has been taken from him

“That’s my wife!” You state proudly.

And then everything clicks

“Wait, I’m a god?” 

The room explodes in noise, but Dehya’s hand never leaves yours

Arlecchino

When it comes to Arlecchino, instead of taking you to Aaru Village, you ask them to take you to the border of Fontaine

You’ve only made it to the end of Sumeru in the Archon Quests- maybe if you head to Fontaine now, you’ll get to see the Archon Quest in person!

It’s only once you’ve taken the Aquabus to the Court of Fontaine that you realize you do not have a single mora on your person. 

It’s after a day of exploring that you end up near the sea, and after being startled by a giant crab appearing from nowhere (It was Very Scary I promise) you end up tumbling into the water, you’re trapped under, and-

Wait… you can still breathe!

You light up with excitement, diving deeper, and that begins your life as a diver.

You end up becoming a collector, selling cool shells and oddities to anyone in the Court who’s willing to buy them (You’ve built up a pretty good rapport with the supply manager of Chiori’s Boutique)

It’s also underwater that you discover you’re the creator- finding an old abandoned temple with murals of a god that look just like you, helping you make sense of the power beneath your skin

But hey, if no one else was gonna bring it up, you wouldn’t either

And it’s underwater that you end up meeting your first Fatui member: Freminet

He was surprised when he first saw you swimming around- but now he’s grown pretty accustomed to you, and sometimes you guys even interact

Admittedly, sound doesn’t travel well underwater, so most of your communication is via charades, but the two of you end up growing close

Freminet shows you cool diving spots, you collect valuables from the ocean floor together, swim together in blissful silence, and play with all the friendly ocean animals you seem to attract

It only takes about a month for Freminet to begin mentally referring to you as mother (This boy is starved of a parental figure)

And after that it only takes a week before he slips up

He’s waiting in Father’s office, looking around as he waits for him to arrive

It’s pretty sparsely decorated- but there are a few ornaments still left around.

“Mother would like this…” Freminet muses, looking at a small model boat, delicate and intricately carved.

A flash of heat at his back. “… What did you just say?”

After a very long and frantic explanation, and a slightly shorter lecture on stranger danger, Arlecchino demands to meet you.

You first meet the harbinger after a day diving with Freminet, and he shoots you an apologetic look as you both surface to find a harbinger on the shore

And then you make eye contact

Your thoughts: That is a harbinger. From the Fatui. Huh. I’m going to pretend not to know that.

Arlecchino’s thoughts: That is the Creator that The Tsaritsa told me to look out for. They have the exact same appearance. I will pretend not to know that.

Arlecchino asks you to tea to get to know you better, and it devolves from there.

At your tea party, she introduces herself as a completely normal orphanage matron, and you’re polite enough to not point out that her brooch is a tiny Fatui emblem

You introduce yourself as a normal diver and she ignores the fact that your spoon has been stirring sugar into your tea without you even touching it

Your relationship continues in a similar fashion, with the both of you pretending to be a completely normal couple

After a few months, when both of you are getting married, you both ignore the oddities of your guests

“Ah, darling, the Fatui are here.” “Oh yes, they sponsor my orphanage, how polite of them to come.”

“Angel, Morax is here.” “Huh. Isn’t he supposed to be dead?” “Yes.” “Well, I’m glad he could make it.” 

The both of you continue with intense purposeful ignorance

Venti: Your grace, do you really want to marry the harbinger? Is she threatening you?

You: What harbinger? I’m marrying a completely normal and totally average orphanage owner. So kind and generous she is.

Arlecchino, in the background, kicking Childe for trying to start a fight at her wedding, pausing to turn and wave: Hello.

Also Freminet is the flower girl

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hi, so I am a lover of angst, hurt/comfort is my favorite. Anyways if it is okay may I please request an injured gn s/o (maybe s/o took a hit meant for them) either Sunday, Dan Heng, Argenti, basically as many or as few of the hsr men as you want. But if you don’t want to do this that’s okay, you are the author after all so yeah. Anyways love ya and have fun darling /lh

Sunday: he doesn’t take news of your injury lightly. At all.

You getting hurt was unacceptable and Sunday will let that be known as he demands a search party to look for the person(s) responsible for your injury.

He becomes incredibly suffocating during your recovery period. He will want to do everything for you so that you’d never have to raise a hand yourself.

He’s waiting on your hand and foot as he slowly grows more and more infuriated with the lack of progress made with the hunt search for your attacker.

He’s been told not to focus on such trivial matters and pat more attention to matters regarding The Family, but in his heart of hearts Sunday knew he couldn’t fulfil his duties as head, not when you were bed bound by your injuries and rendered helpless.

It’s not the first time he’s been reprimanded for such behaviour and actions before, but at some point Sunday just didn’t care enough to head those warnings as he spent most of his time feeding you, bathing you, clothing you and overall monitoring your health as he didn’t trust anyone outside to do so without the usage of foul play.

He’d might even use this as an opportunity to show you that you were never going to be safe if you stray from his side, for he couldn’t protect you if you were to wander far from his sight.

He wants you by him 24/7 and if you were to go anywhere, it was to be with his approval and administration.

Was this controlling? Yes but he was doing this for you, don’t you see? Nowhere is safe because everyone knows your relationship to him and they’ll use that to their advantage. He can’t keep you safe if he doesn’t know where you are all the time and if he had it his way, you’d never leave the house at all.

Sunday knows best, so you’d be wise to listen to him from here on out.

Argenti: utterly heartbroken and enraged that someone would dare hurt his beautiful flower.

He doesn’t take your safely lightly.

It was his solemn duty to protect and preserve all things beautiful and you were high up on his list of priorities.

He honestly wouldn’t know what he’d do without you, his rose, his most beloved and the most beautiful soul he’s ever gazed his eyes upon.

He makes up for the fact that you were injured by staying by your side, offering reassuring words throughout your healing journey, and always being there to catch you when you fall.

He’d even go as far as forgoing taking care of himself in exchange for making sure that you were bathed, clothed, fed and so on. He looks perpetually tired but yet so beautiful with that soft smile gracing his lips as he gazed at you with all the affection he could muster.

You naturally had to force him to take a break from caring for you and have a power nap with you instead as you couldn’t stand another moment more of Argenti ignoring his own needs for your own.

‘I’m sorry that I couldn’t protect you my flower. I’m meant to be your knight, but you became mine instead when I got distracted in battle.’ He says.

‘I’d gladly be your knight all the time in gratitude for everything you’ve ever done for me Argenti.’ You replied softly, holding his hands and watching him melt into your touch, revealing in your warmth. ‘So please don’t take my injury to heart, even though I know you’ve already have. I just don’t want you blaming yourself for something that happened out of our control.’ You finished as you pressed a kiss to his forehead.

‘I can’t promise anything dearest, seeing you hurt wounds me deeply as though I’ve been the one injured instead, but I’m willing to try. For you my heart.’ Argenti said and he truly meant it, but during the heat of battle that’s when he took his position as a knight seriously, as he would guard you with everything he had whsilt also staying true to his chivalrous nature.

Dan Heng: the moment he saw you get hurt, he’s mentally zoned out as his body takes over as he finds himself hovering over your body protectively, weapon in hand.

He refuses anyone to get near you as he’d lash out on instinct to protect you, his beloved.

He hates, no, despises the fact that he couldn’t protect you and will blame himself for it, until Welt has to step in and tell him that this mindset isn’t the mindset he should be having right now, not when you needed him as your pillar during your recovery.

That snaps Dan Heng out of it really quickly as he focuses on helping you recover and he takes that responsibility seriously. Though that never stops the guilt that he felt whenever looking at your healed scar, it served as a reminder of his greatest failure in protecting someone he loved.

It sickened him that after all this time he could still be proven to be weak in moments where he needed to be strong. He feels as though he’s failed you as a partner, but you never hold it again him as you reassure him while softly kissing his face.

‘It’s not your fault Dan Heng.’ You’d tell him frequently.

‘Then why does it feel like it is?’ He asks as his eye linger on your scar with melancholy.

He was so close to loosing you that day that whenever you were to fight, Dan Heng would be close by watching your back and covering your weak spots like he was made to know your fighting style as intimately as he did.

Nowadays he’s over protective and hovering over you 24/7 from the shadows, fae enough to give you space but close enough to protect you should the need arise.

He’s still trying to make up for the fact that he failed but to himself rather then anybody else, for no one held him more accountable for your injury then himself.

[conflictofthemind]

Thoughts on "Escape from Camazotz"

Oppressive Suburbia, Conformity, and Season 5 Themes

I've long thought that a major focus of Season 5 will be the contrast between the families of The Wheelers and The Byers, and exploring how non-traditional family environments can be freeing vs the oppressive structure of the nuclear family.

In a Wrinkle In Time, Camazotz is a planet controlled by the big bad of the book, the "IT", who forces the citizens into a conformity that resembles American suburbia. All of the houses the same, the citizens the same, doing the same things at the same time without individual identity. Without anything different. Different means a lot of things, but with Stranger Things dropping different in reference to Will's identity and the presumable themes of this season, it will heavily codify as queerness and how it threatens the cisheterosexual family model.

Henry was raised in the 1950s, a decade still revered by conservatives for it's traditional family dynamics that supposedly were the peak of culture and happiness for all. That was all a lie, of course, and Henry knew so as he shows to Nancy and Eleven during his monologue. The second most conservative decade aside from the 1950s in American society is widely considered to be the 1980s.

The Creels will serve in parallel to The Wheelers; the worst example of what they could become and the damage that this type of family could do to a child that is different in any way. Notice how Vecna selectively shows Nancy visions of The Wheelers dying, but not anyone else she may consider family or friends (like Jonathan).

That is; unless they change their ways and come together as a healthy functioning family facing their traumas, The Wheelers will be toast.

Karen has been moved up to a main character role this season. Ted's actor says the father starts to show up more for Holly (hold that) and realizes he wants to act differently. Holly has been recast. Finn has said Mike goes on a much more personal journey this season, and steps up as a leader.

Oh, also: the catalyst for all of this is that Holly goes missing. The contrast will help show how the Byers (including El and Hopper here) were able to pull together and help solve Will's disappearance, versus how the Wheelers as a closed off nuclear family grapple with Holly's vanishing.

Each of the Byers is in some kind of a non-1950s conformist relationship, but particularly Will (not in one now but we all know he will be). I think El might represent, after she breaks up with Mike, the fear of the unmarried woman being satisfied without a husband. The above shot really emphasizes my point.

I predict that Will will end up coming out to his family rather early on, and we will see all of them immediately accept him with little surprise or push-back. Will is a visible gay man who comes from an open minded non traditional family (divorced, non-married, adoptive) that is willing to have honest conversations.

But this theme will place the most focus on the Wheelers. Mike is the main character of said family and this will particularly focus on his arc, and his acceptance of his queerness in the midst of suburban conformity.

He is not visible, he comes from a Reagan-supporting family who don't communicate with each other. He is not particularly close with his family like Will is. He pushes his feelings down and tries his damn hardest to be normal despite it all. His trauma hasn't really been addressed at all. He is falling back into his usual habits - the one thing he dared to do different (grow his hair long) has gone back to how it was.

It's not all doom and gloom though. This season above all will be a redemption arc of the American nuclear family, how they choose to escape their conformity and learn to be there for each other, thus overpowering Vecna. Not that the Wheelers are going to end this personally.

"Great, more hysteria. Just what we need". "It's the news, now indistinguishable from the tabloids".

[beautyiindeath]

stuck with you ✧ ˚ · . rafe cameron x fem!reader

summary: after crash landing in barbados, you find yourself taken hostage at the hands of mr. singh. determined to get what he wants, he traps you in room with rafe cameron…

cw: 18+ (minors dni). heavy smut. fingering. oral sex. unprotected sex. vaginal sex. choking. name calling.

word count: 3.4k !

As if crash landing into the ocean in a derelict helicopter wasn’t bad enough, you ended up being separated from your friends and thrown into the back of a truck by a group of armed guards. They bound your wrists behind your back with rope and we’re positioned all around you, they’re guns pointing at you from all angles.

It was a set up from the start. After surviving on an isolated island for months, you were growing tired of the initial thrill and the desperation to go home grew each day. Luck seemed to come your way when a helicopter passing by turned around and agreed to take you and your friends back home. But it was a set up from the start. The man who’d picked you up was well aware of you who all were. You’d figured that out after JJ went snooping in his bag.

After the helicopter crashed into the ocean, your friends were quick to swim away, but you couldn’t leave the man to drown so you hauled him onto the beach. He apologised then, saying he had struck a deal with someone. He had been promised a big cash reward from the handover. But your friends had managed to escape, leaving only one of you as the cash prize. The whole situation had Ward Cameron written all over it.

You struggled against your restraints, the rope digging into your skin. “What has Ward Cameron promised you?” You asked the guards around you. None of them replied, they just sent deathly glares your way.

You glanced towards the one who looked the kindest, pleading as best you could with your eyes, willing him to answer.

“We don’t know of a Ward Cameron.” He said. After he didn’t elaborate any further, you spoke up again.

”Listen… I don’t know who you think I am, but if this truly has nothing to do with Ward Cameron, then you have the wrong person.”

You felt a sharp twang against the side of your head as the larger guard hit you with the end of his rifle, “Keep quiet or I’ll gag your mouth as well as your hands.”

Not wanting to add fire to the fuse, you shut up. The rest of the journey continued in an awkward silence, and after what felt like forever, the truck eventually came to a stop.

There were even more armed guards, some equipped with dogs that snarled and cared their teeth when you walked past. Every inch of the property was covered, if you tried to escape, you’d get nowhere. You were hauled out by your arms, and taken across the threshold into a large mansion.

Two guards led you up a winding staircase and shoved you into a bedroom. The rude guard from earlier untied your wrists.

”There’s a shower and some clothes over there. I suggest you clean up before you meet with Mr. Singh,” he scrunched his nose in disgust, “You smell like shit.”

He turned on his heel and left the room, locking the door behind him. After checking every window, and finding they were locked, you admitted defeat and decided to take advantage of the shower.

After bathing in salty water for months without soap, it felt good to step into a hot shower. You scrubbed the grime off your body, shampooed and conditioned your hair three times until it no longer felt sore and itchy.

Like the man had said, there was a wardrobe to the side of the bedroom with a section of the same red dress. You picked out the one in your size and pulled it over your body. The soft silky material felt nice against your skin. You tore dried your hair and let the waves fall naturally down your back.

Then you went and laid on the bed, staring up a the ceiling for what felt like hours. A knock at the door interrupted you from your daydream.

”Mr. Singh is ready to see you now.” A voice boomed from the other side of the door. You rose from the bed when you heard the lock click open. The guards grabbed ahold of your arms and dragged you across the hall and down the stairs to the ground floor. They led you into a large office towards the right hand side, the shut the door behind them and stood guard at either side.

A buzzcut man was stood by the window, their back facing you. “Excuse me?” You started.

The man turned around and you were met with that face of Rafe Cameron. It had taken a moment for you to recognise him, he looked different without his signature locks.

”What the fuck?” You grimaced.

He sauntered across the room, his finger jutted out towards you. “I swear to God, you’d better not be here to mess up my deal.” He spat.

”What deal? I have no idea what you’re talking about.“

Before Rafe could respond, a thick Barbados accent spoke from across the room. A sharp looking man walked over. “What a lovely reunion between friends. Take a seat, both of you.”

“We’re not friends.” You and Rafe said at the same time. You sat down on the couch. Rafe took a seat in the one furthest from you, his eyes glaring in your direction. Mr. Singh let out a low chuckle and sat in front of the two of you.

“I’m going to get straight to business,” He looked over at you as he said this, “I know you have the diary. Just hand it over and I will let you go. Nobody has to get hurt if you play by my rules.”

You played it cool, and tried to sound as convincing as possible.

”I’m sorry to disappoint you, Mr. Singh. But I don’t know what you’re talking about. I haven’t got a diary. Unless you count my own… which I doubt it the one you’re after.”

Mr. Singh tutted, sucking his teeth as he shook his head in disagreement. “I know you know the diary I’m talking about. And I know you have it. How else would you know about the gold?”

”I don’t have the diary. I’m sure your guards can attest to that after they vigorously searched me earlier and found nothing.” You said.

“You might not have the diary on you, but you know where it is. Just tell me the location and I can have my men go get it. Once it’s in my hands, you’re both free to go.”

Rafe rose from his seat on the couch, heading over towards the door. “I came here to cut a deal. If I’m not getting that, then I’m leaving. I don’t appreciate my time being wasted.” He huffed.

The guards were quick to point their guns at him. He stepped back, his hands up in surrender.

”Mr. Cameron… I know you’re aware of the diary I’m talking about too. Maybe you’ll have better luck getting the truth out of her.” Mr. Singh signalled towards his guards and they took hold of both you and Rafe. “Take them upstairs. Don’t let them out until they decide to talk.”

As you were being dragged out of the office and back towards the stairs, Mr. Singh called out to you again, “If you don’t have the answer I want in 24 hours, your friends will die.” He smirked, holding up his phone which showed a photo of Sarah and John. B tied up.

”Let them go !” You shouted as the guard threw you over his shoulder and carried you up the stairs, his grip tight on you as you thrashed around.

You were thrown into the same bedroom as earlier, along with Rafe. The door locked behind you. “Let me out !” You started shouting, banging your fists against its wooden frame.

”Will you shut the fuck up.” Rafe hissed as you continued banging on the door. You ignored him and he grabbed ahold of your arm and yanked you away from it. You shook him off and cast him a dirty look.

”No matter how much noise you make, they aren’t going to listen.” He sighed.

“Do you even care that he has your sister hostage?”

”Of course I care.”

You scoffed at him, “Then why aren’t you doing anything about it?”

He rolled his eyes at you, growing irritated with your attitude. “I don’t see you doing anything either. I know you have that diary. If you care about them that badly, tell the truth.”

You sighed, running your hands through your hair. The diary was back at the chateau, you could easily tell Singh, but you knew that your friends wouldn’t want that. They’d find a way out, right? They always did.

Standing by the window, you looked out across the horizon, the sun was already starting to set. You bit down on your lip, trying to hold back your tears.

“Anyone out there?” Rafe asked, standing beside you as he drew back the curtain.

”Get lost.” You spat.

”We’re locked in a room together. I cant go anywhere even if I wanted too.”

You moved away from him and went to sit on the bed, your head in your hands.

Rafe leaned against the window frame, looking at you as he debated over what to say.

”Look around. I’m the only friend you have.” He knelt down in front of you, his hands touching your knees as he looked up at you.

”We are not friends.” You glared, shaking his hands off.

He didn’t move from his spot but he didn’t put his hands back on you. “You know what I mean. Maybe if we work together, we can get out of her quicker.”

“I’d rather walk over hot rocks than work with you.”

“Suit yourself. Don’t blame me if your friends end up dead at your behest.” He stood up and started pacing the room, mumbling things under his breath.

Lying back on the bed, you reached for a pillow and screamed into it, letting out your frustration in the only way you could.

”So, where’s the diary?” Rafe asked after a few minutes of silence.

“As if I’d tell you. You’re just here to try and weasel the answer out of me for him. But your little game isn’t going to work.”

”You really think I’m on his side? Why the fuck would I willingly lock myself in a room with you?”

You shrugged at him. “Just shut up, Rafe. I’m sick of hearing your voice.”

Yawning, you rolled over and closed your eyes. “You’re sleeping at a time like this? Damn… your friends really mustn’t mean that much to you.” Rafe pestered.

”I’m resting my eyes.” You hissed.

*****

The sound of the door locking startled you. You glanced over at the window, the night sky looking back at you. You must’ve fallen asleep. The bathroom door was shut and you could hear Rafe fumbling around in there.

You remembered seeing some pajamas in the wardrobe earlier, and decided to change into them whilst he was gone. Shedding the red dress off your body, you looted around in the drawer, trying to find something that would fit and keep you both comfortable and cool in the heat. You’d just finished pulling up the bottoms when Rafe walked back in, wearing only his boxers. He caught you staring at him for longer than necessary, a dry snicker leaving his lips. You looked away, pretending it hadn’t happened.

”You don’t have to act all shy.” He smirked.

Still facing the wall, you refused to look at him. “Put some clothes on.”

”In case you haven’t noticed, there’s nothing in here for me to wear. And I’m not falling asleep in my suit. So you’ll have to deal with it.”

You sighed in defeat, staring out into the darkness. The air suddenly felt very hot.

”You cant stand there all night avoiding me.”

”Yes I can.”

Rafe chuckled to himself. Enjoying the fact that wearing only his boxers was having such an effect on you. He moved across the room to stand behind you. His skin mere centimetres away from yours. You could feel your heart pounding as his ran his fingers up your bare arms, causing you to shiver.

“Cold?” Rafe whispered, his lips brushing against your ear. “Maybe I should warm you up…” His hands snaked around your waist as he span you around to face him, your breath hitched in your throat. With his body pressed against your own, you could feel his abs through the thin material of the pajamas. You started at the ground, refusing to make eye contact.

”Look at me.” He spoke in a soft voice.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you cautiously looked up to meet his gaze. His piercing blue eyes stared back at you. Both your chest moved in sync, the air the room felt suffocating as you tried to hold your composure. As much as you despised him, there was no denying that Rafe was an attractive man. Right now all you wanted to do was fuck him.

“Looks like we’re going to be trapped here for a while.” He smirked, not breaking eye contact.

The confidence you had earlier was completely shattered and you found yourself feeling flustered, not knowing how to respond.

Rafe’s hands kneaded the skin on your hips, his fingers snaking up your sides underneath the silk camisole. “W-We shouldn’t.” You stuttered. Both of you knew this was getting dangerous.

“It’s just us in here. Nobody else will know.”

Unable to fight it any longer, you crashed your lips into his, desperate for the taste of him. The kiss was hungry, his tongue sliding into your mouth. He guided you backwards, towards the bed, laying you down on your back.

Rafe pulled away from this kiss, his lips attacking to your skin as he ducked and nibbled on your collarbones. A small whimper left your lips. His body hovered over yours as he looked down at you. His eyes hungry.

”You look so good beneath me.” He rasped.

Bringing his lips back to your skin, he kissed down your chest, his soft hands pushing the straps of the camisole down your shoulders. You tugged the bottoms off yourself whilst he pulled the silky shirt down past your breasts.

His lips were quick to attach themselves to your left breast, as his took your nipple in his mouth. You gasped, arousal coursing through you. With his other hand caressing your other breast, he continued sucking on your breast, taking the hardening nub between his teeth.

Reaching up, you pulled him closer to you, desperate to feel his skin against yours. Rafe reached down between your thighs, running his fingers over your panties. You tensed up at his touch. You stomach twisted and turned.

“Relax.” He cooed, as he slid his hands underneath the lace. His fingers brushed against your clit, causing you to let out a small moan.

“Does that feel good?” He gruffed, his fingers sliding in between your folds.

You hummed in response, bucking your hips up at his touch as he slid in a singular finger. With his lips still attached to your breast, he started jutting his finger in and out of your pussy. “More.” You pleaded.

”More what?” He teased.

”Fingers,” You mewled. “More fingers.”

He smirked, sliding another finger inside of you. “We shouldn’t be doing this right now.” You said.

”Want me to stop?”

You whimpered when he went stoic, taking his lips from around your aching nipple.

”No. Don’t stop.”

He pulled your panties off in one swift movement and started pumping his fingers inside you, curling them up at the knuckle to fuck you at a more pleasurable angle. He rubbed your clit with his thumb, circling it around the sensitive nub, making you moan.

”Does that feel good?” He hummed as he watched you, all hot and flustered from his touch.

You responded by moaning his name and bucking up your hips against his hand.

Testing the waters to see how far you could for for him, he snaked his free hand up your chest, wrapping it around the base of your throat. Feeling the vibrations of a hum against his palm, he gripped tighter. His cock grew harder.

You whimpered as he pulled his fingers out, your juices slick all over them. You watched as he brought them to his mouth, sucking them clean. He tugged his boxers down, and your eyes widened as he cock sprang free. He was bigger than you’d imagined.

Rafe took his shaft in his hand, lining it up at your core, his top circling around your hole, causing you to quiver.

”Stop teasing me.” You whined, your body aching for him.

He guided himself inside your hole slowly, you winced as a twinge of pain pulsed through your pussy as he stretched you out.

“You can take it.” He encouraged, sliding himself further inside your tight walls. He bit down on his lip as he let out a low groan.

Unable to control his urges, he thrust forward, filling you up. Your walls tightened around him. “Fuck.” Rafe hissed. “You’re so tight.”

You arched your back in pleasure and wrapped your legs around his hips, desperate to pull him in closer.

Rafe brought his other hand to your throat, pressing down harshly as he fucked you raw. You moaned out loudly as his cock hit the pit of your stomach.

“Louder. Let me hear you.” He grunted between thrusts.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your head went foggy, you were coming close to your high. You moaned out his name through jagged breaths, each one getting more hoarse as you struggled to take in oxygen.

You felt the familiar knot in your stomach as your legs began to shake. You let out a wail as an intense orgasm rushed through you. Your hands were on Rafe’s back, your nails digging deep into his skin as you rode out the high.

You gasped for air when he let go of your throat, coughing slightly at the dry taste left in your mouth. Rafe held onto your hips as he flipped you both over, so that you were straddling him.

Holding onto his shoulders for support, you ground against his hips, moving in sync with his thrusts.

“Oh God.” You moaned as you felt the start of another orgasm coming on.

You threw your head back and bathed in the intense pleasure coursing through your body.

“Still hate me?” Rafe panted.

”So fuckin’ much.”

”Show me how much you hate me. Make me come for you.”

You tightened your walls around his cock, taking him all. You grinded against him slowly and passionately. You felt his cock twitch inside you. He was close.

Rafe groaned, his hand gripping into the curves on your body. You rode out another orgasm, your body fighting to stay upright as it trembled. You kept grinding, desperate to make him come.

Just before his orgasm hit, Rafe pulled out of you, his cum squirting up your chest and he let out a moan. You fell back onto the bed, gasping as you struggled to catch your breath.

The two of you laid in silence. Only the sound of your chests rising and falling filled the air. Your hair was sticking to your skin as sweat dripped down your skin.

Once you felt strong enough to stand, you hauled yourself up and walked into the bathroom. You switched on the shower and stepped inside. The hot water soothed your aching body as you rinsed the sweat and cut off your skin.

You dried yourself with a towel and wrapped it around your figure, walking back into the bedroom. Rafe walked past you, going to take a shower himself. The two of you avoided eye contact.

Pulling on your panties, you tied your hair up and slipped under the covers. You shut your eyes and started drifting off to sleep.

The feeling of movement beside you unsettled you. “What are you doing?” You hummed as Rafe got under the covers.

”Going to bed.” He answered.

You pulled one of the pillows from under you, stuffing it between the two of you. “Don’t cross this line.”

Rafe snickered, “We just fucked and now you’re placing a pillow between us?”

”Yes. So much as breathe too close to me and I’ll make you sleep on the floor.”

You closed your eyes again, pulling the covers up to your chin and drifted off to sleep.

When you woke up the next morning, the pillow was on the floor and you were nuzzled up against Rafe’s body.

[macabr3-barbi3]

Alastor/sheep!Reader- Red Riding Hood (Ao3 Request)

I had so much fun with this! And I'm thinking about doing a little mini-series of retellings of fairy tales because of this so 👀

Tags: chase; outside sex; rough sex; predator/prey for like 3 paragraphs; reader is kind of a little shit

2.6k words

<3<3<3<3<3

The woods are dark and dense, and you curse yourself again for agreeing to undertake this journey for your new manager.

“It gets cold!” She had whined, gesturing to the hairless skin of her Sphynx cat form. “ I could freeze, and its really important that this delivery gets picked up tonight! You’re such a great friend,” she had gushed when you caved and agreed to make the trip for her, to the outermost edges of the Pride ring. Why couldn’t she have just air-shipped the package? “The customer doesn’t like modern technology.”  Why not have him come get it? “He isn’t really a people person, I don’t want to scare anyone off.”

An idiot is what you were- an idiot that was new to Hell and didn’t have many other options for jobs. You were sweltering under the stupid red cloak that she had given you, swearing up and down that the forest you’d be going through got chilly at night and insisting that you take it with you; the only plus to the damned thing was that it had a pocket into which you could slip the delivery parcel. Even though you weren’t technically properly trained for deliveries yet, the thick wool that coated the lush curves of your sheep-like body apparently made you the perfect candidate for the trip through the ‘cold’ woods. 

“Bullshit,” you mutter, throwing the hood of the damned thing back and letting the soft breeze whip past your ears. The trees seem to whistle their displeasure at your presence, your hair swirling around your face as you head in the general direction that the app on your phone directed you. 

There’s a sudden growl in the air, and you freeze where you stand. It almost rumbles the ground beneath your feet, and glancing over your shoulder you see a hint of crimson eyes staring from the darkness.

Fuck that. You take off without any further inspection of the glowing gaze, tossing your phone into the cloak pocket as you run- you don’t need to know what it is if it's going to try to hurt you somehow, and you don’t give a damn about the delivery being on time if it means risking your life. Why wouldn’t your manager have told you there was dangerous shit out here? You get that it’s Hell but for fuck’s sake.

Your lungs are aching as you continue on, not willing to slow or stop while you can still hear the crashing of tree branches and snarling behind you, right at your heels. There’s a hand on the hood of your cloak then, pulling you backwards, and without thinking you slam your head back, horns miraculously hitting home right in the creature’s face. It releases you with a pained groan and you don’t look back, booking it as fast as you can in a different direction, stitch in your side growing more and more painful with every step.

The woods are silent as you finally slow and stop, bracing your back against a tree and trying to catch your heaving breath. Your whole body is on fire, physical exertion having never been your strong suit, but you’re still alive and that’s what matters- body aches will heal, but you heard that regeneration was a bitch.

“Are you chilly, darling?”

The unexpected voice makes you whip around, cloak whirling as you turn. “Fuck!” Your heart is still beating like a drum, hard hammering against your chest from the run before you had stopped to rest. 

The demon casually leaning against a nearby tree watches you with a wide grin, a trickle of blood from his lips where your horns had slammed into him. His eyes, red and lidded, flick up and down your body. “It’s quite rude to leave a question unanswered.”

“It’s also quite rude to sneak up on people. Was that you chasing me?”

“Why, I’m just making sure that you are heading in the right direction! The number of people that have gotten lost on their way to me is truly a nuisance.” He eyes the shape of the package in your cloak pocket. “I’m pleased to see that this one hasn’t been lost to the forest yet.” He steps closer, holds a hand out to you. “Come along now, dear.”

“R-right. Can you confirm the name on the package?”

A wide grin, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Alastor.”

It matches the name on the package which is good enough for you. “Okay, great. Here you go.” You pull the box from your pocket and hold it out to him. “That’s all this needed to be.”

He cocks his head to one side. “Surely you won’t be leaving so soon.”

“I’m just here to make the delivery, sir.” Your hands are trembling with leftover adrenaline as he takes the parcel, inspects it for a moment, then unceremoniously tosses it over his shoulder into the darkness.

“Your work ethic is to be admired!” He exclaims, ignoring your outraged expression. “But there seems to be confusion- you are the delivery, darling.” When you stiffen at his words he chuckles and creeps closer, circling you like a predator. “Let me guess- you’re new to the shop, you aren’t trained for deliveries, and the manager had compelling reasons for why you should come instead of herself?”

“I-”

“We have an understanding, you see.” He trails a finger down the cloak hanging over your arm. “Retail is a hard business in Hell- no one wants to stick around, people are hard to train, they never last long anyway. Your manager has had to run several of my packages herself and the last one was, sadly, lost to the elements by her own fault.” He looks off into the distance, seemingly irritated at the memory. “What could have possessed her to attempt to cross a river with a priceless antique electronic is beyond me but here we are. I would have simply killed her but she has connections I can use to my advantage so we made a deal instead.” He looks back to you, head cocked to one side as he smiles. “An easy meal as compensation for her transgression. Delivered right to me.” His eyes darken, raking over your form, the curves of your body. “I hadn’t expected her to act so quickly but it’s been some time since I last had mutton.”

“I won’t taste good,” you tell him calmly despite the lingering fear from the chase, and an eyebrow raises in amusement. “When I was alive my mom always said I was rotten, I’m sure that doesn’t translate well to my demon form. And then you’ll have wasted your deal on bad meat.” You keep your voice steady while you address him.

“Oh?” He circles you and you can feel his gaze running over your body again. “I’m not so sure about that, dear- I’ve never found any complaints with meat of any kind. I’m sure you’ll be quite tasty.” He smiles when he comes around the front again, the sharp teeth glinting in the light that filters through the trees.

And fuck, the way he said that shouldn’t have been kind of hot. This was a serious situation, definitely not the time to be thinking vaguely inappropriate thoughts about the demon who was quite blatantly threatening to eat you. “Do you want to risk it?” You ask, and his smile turns curious. “I mean, I’d hate to have to tell you ‘I told you so’ but I would do it. The shop has new people like me coming in every week for training that you could have your pick of instead of taking the first thing to come along; what if you missed out on something really delicious?” 

Alastor watches you carefully. “I suppose you have a point, darling,” he concedes, his slim shoulders shrugging. “A meal that talks back so much would surely be a poor one. Though I can’t say I’m not disappointed that I won’t get a chance to sample you.” His voice seems to drop, a rolling purr in the strange radio cadence he has that makes your hair stand on end and your heart thump in your chest.

“Maybe I could let you have a taste?” The words leave your mouth before you can stop them, the air between the two of you suddenly charged with tension. “Just, you know. Show you what I mean, that I won’t be any good. Rotten and all that, like my mom says.”

“On the contrary, I think you’ll be very good.” He steps closer to you, towers over your frame with hooded eyes that track the movement of your throat as you swallow. “But I’ll behave myself since you’ve shown me the error of my ways- a mere sampling of your flavor, nothing more. I suppose there is more that I could get out of your manager if I don’t ‘cash in’ right away, as it were.” He brings a claw tipped hand to cup your face, tilting your head one way then the other. “We’ll start here,” he murmurs, and you close your eyes, wait for the brush of his lips against yours.

It doesn’t come- instead you feel him lick along the column of your neck, the muscle hot and wet where it drags against your skin, a shuddering exhale leaving you at the feeling. One hand comes up to rest on your waist, the other unclipping the clasp of the red cloak you wear and letting it fall to the ground. You shiver without it, not from the cold but from the sensations raging through your body at such a simple touch, and Alastor pulls back, licking his lips at the taste of you.

“My disappointment at agreeing to let you go is immeasurable,” he whispers, pupils blown when he meets your eyes. “It’s just as I suspected- delicious.” The hand that released the cloak winds itself into your hair, brushing against the base of your horns. “Would you indulge me in another taste?”

You nod, not trusting your voice to come out clearly, and he swipes along your neck again, allowing his teeth to press gently against your pulse point before he continues down, snaking the hot appendage between the valley of your breasts and holding you tighter to his body. There’s still adrenaline coursing through your body making each touch feel like an electric pulse to your core, and when he growls into your chest you let out a quiet moan that echoes in the quiet woods.

One hand still tangled in your hair, thumb gently brushing against your horns, he slips his free hand under the waistband of your skirt and into your panties, inhaling sharply at the wetness he finds. Claws absent, he slides a finger inside of you, the press of it slow and steady, making you rock your hips into his hand.

“Someone’s eager, hm?” He presses another digit into the slickness of your cunt, bends his fingers in a way that his you seeing stars as he thrusts them in and out of your heat. You let out a soft cry against him and cling to his shirt, up on your tiptoes to let his fingers reach wherever he wants.

“More,” you whimper, letting one of your hands reach up to his face, a move that surprises him. “Please, Alastor.”

He brings his face up from your skin and devours your mouth, his tongue showing just as much attention to your mouth as he had your neck, licking into it with fervor and enthusiasm you wouldn’t have expected from him. “Would you let me have you, darling? This is hardly an appropriate place, but-”

“Yes,” you tell him, not even letting him finish his sentence, and he gently lowers you to the ground to lay across the expanse of the red cloak. He makes short work of his trousers, shoving your skirt up around your waist and slicing your panties off with a quick swipe of his fingers before he fists his cock and slots himself against you. “Oh fuck-” He impales you with a hard thrust, sinking in to the base with a harsh grip on your hips.

“Lovely,” he groans into your ear, and then he seems to lose the capability for language, his words devolving into harsh grunts and growls as he fills you over and over, snapping his hips against yours in a quick rhythm that leaves you gasping and trying to pull him closer. 

A hand leaves your hips to tangle in your hair; you arch up, thinking that he means to kiss you again until his palm wraps around the length of one horn, using it like a handle to pull your head back, throat exposed to him while he rails into you. “Delicious little thing,” he says, and drags his tongue down the column of your throat again, sucking a pattern of bruises along it that you know you’ll spend the next week pressing into with your fingertips. His sharp teeth pinch a bit of skin lightly and you jerk in his hold.

It should have terrified you, instead dousing your body in a liquid flame. “J-Just tasting, remember,” you jokingly reprimand, and his laugh reverberates through your chest.

“How could I forget?” He lets go of your horn, slips the hand between your bodies as he leans back so he can watch you rocking with the force of his thrusts into you. His thumb swipes forcefully at your clit, the ecstasy near overwhelming as he loses some of his rhythm, your cunt clamping down on him. “It's quite selfish to deny me, darling, but I’ll take of you what I can- your pleasure, your body, all of it mine-”

Your eyes roll back in your head as the tension in your lower body snaps, dragging Alastor down with a hand in his hair to meet your lips, desperate and sloppy while you quake and shatter to pieces below him. He spends himself with a snarl in the tightness of your body, slick with your arousal and release as you cry out, the sound swallowed by his mouth.

He remains still for a moment, crouched over you, before he pulls back and rests you gently on the cloak. “This thing is hideous,” he says with distaste. “It made it quite easy to track you- which was the intention- but you must have been sweltering.”

You watch what you can see if the sky through the canopy of the trees. “She said it could get cold,” you laugh, “and I’m a fool. What a terrible job.”

“Not a fool,” he corrects, spreading the fabric out to lay on it beside you for a moment. “Nearly a victim of a deal that didn’t concern you- and perhaps I will still pay your manager a visit- but never a fool. You convinced me not to eat you for now, at least.”

You shoot him a smile. “Well, you weren’t that scary once you stopped chasing me,” you giggle, “besides those sharp teeth.”

His nose wrinkles with his amusement. “Keep teasing me, dear, and I’ll acquaint you with these sharp teeth for real.” He leans close enough to nip at your shoulder, the motion more teasing than painful. “There’s always tomorrow, after all- who knows what my appetite will be once I’ve dealt with that manager of yours? Mutton could still be on the menu.”

“Well,” you say, “if I’ll be out of a job soon so I might go apply at the coffee shop around the corner from our place. I heard their manager is a real ass- how would you feel about duck instead?” He laughs into your shoulder, the sound deep and clear, and you think maybe it wasn’t such a bad job after all if this was where it lead for now.

[ao3commentoftheday]

Hello! First of all, thank you for this blog. I’ve read some of the asks you’ve answered so far and they’ve been incredibly fun and to go through and very useful <3

The problem I have is very… specific. But I figured why not share it here, you know?

A few months ago, I started leaving rants and analyses in one of my favorite AO3 writer’s tumblr ask box, regarding their fics. That kind of evolved and long story short, they’ve been following my tumblr blog for a while.

Now this obviously makes me incredibly happy. They’re not exactly popular in the whole wide fandom, per se, but they’ve kind of created a smaller fandom within the original fandom through their fics and art (which are mostly AU longfics, and art for said AUs), so this basically feels like being tumblr mutuals with someone like Neil Gaiman to me.

The problem arises in the fact that I feel like I’m being watched now. This person I look up to follows my tumblr, and knows my AO3 handle, and I have only posted a single fic so far, but I have so many other fics I want to write, and I’m always so anxious to write because I keep thinking “When I post this, are they going to see it? Read it, maybe? Are they gonna hate it? Are they gonna unfollow me because they don’t like my characterization or writing?” and I keep trying to reason with myself that part of the reason I look up to them so much is that they promote a “No judgement” policy, and part of the reason they followed me is because they liked my analysis of their work, but now I’m realizing that… I want them to read my fics. And I want them to like them and maybe I want us to be friends and not just mutuals, and I want us to freak out about each other’s fics, you know?

That is worsened by the fact that… My tumblr account is fairly new. And I have a total of 3 followers including said fanfic writer, so I feel the pressure to post fics in order to grow my tumblr circle and build a community, but that directly clashes with my desire to write something absolutely perfect so they’ll like it, which then both clash with what makes writing fic enjoyable, AKA doing it for myself and writing what I want to and how I want to.

I’m aware that I can’t control what another person likes, dislikes, or does. And that I have all the time in the world to write the fics I want and those that will make me happy without regarding what other people might think. But also… fandom are communities. And I want my tumblr and AO3 to be places where I can talk about my fics with people who like them, so that desire to grow my account as soon as I can is very strong simply because I have no one else to talk to. I don’t want to talk to the void and post rants that no one will see (except… y’know, maybe my favorite fanfic writer, which is a whole other level of pressure) about fics that don’t exist yet. Another part of this is the fact that, unless I get fics out, I’m relying on the fanfic writer liking my ideas and interacting to build a community.

As much as I try to convince myself to just write without care and to stop trying to control what this person does because that is completely out of my control and kind of dehumanizing on their behalf, the anxiety doesn’t subside. I don’t know what to do.

This ask was a bit of a journey for me, anon, and it took a little bit of untangling to see where you were going with it. I think this might be the central issue you're facing though:

I want my tumblr and AO3 to be places where I can talk about my fics with people who like them ... because I have no one else to talk to. I don’t want to talk to the void and post rants that no one will see ... about fics that don’t exist yet.

You're looking for fandom friends, and you're at the start of that journey - and I think you're doing well already by reaching out to an author you like and sending them asks about their work. Being willing to reach out and talk to people is an amazing quality, anon, and I encourage you to keep doing that. Follow more people who post things that you're interested in. Drop asks in their inbox and start a conversation.

The other half of that is giving other people and opportunity to reach out to you. You can do this by posting your thoughts about the canon your fandom is tied to. You can see a ton of examples here on tumblr where folks discuss a particular moment or scene that meant something to them.

You can also reblog asks memes, like the AO3 wrapped ones I reblogged the other day. Sometimes I see people just answer all of the questions in their own reblog, but if you want people to have an opening, just leave your ask box open and see what comes through.

If you want to talk about your own work, you can post something for WIP Wednesday or Six Sentence Sunday - or just post a scene that you've been working on and ask what people think.

Everyone starts off with a handful of followers, anon. You won't dive into a lively community overnight. You also don't have to create tons of popular fics in order to make one. Join a community that already exists. Find the people you vibe with within it. This author friend of yours might be the perfect place to start.

Even our favourite people, the ones we look up to most, are still just people when it comes down to it. If this author is as chill as you say they are, I think friendship is totally possible.

I'll open it up to the blog now. Did I read this one wrong? Do you have advice for anon? Have you been in a situation like theirs?

[luimagines]

Oh Captain, My Captain

Another commission!

They asked for FD Warrior who gets seperated from Reader. They paid for the biggest option on my ko-fi and thus... I present this 11 page ditty. :D

Masterlist

Content under the cut!

When Link had joined the group he wasn’t sure what to think of it at first. He had thought this battle would have been similar to the first. He was already familiar with portals and seeing heroes of the past. 

He had already known the Sailor. He was a little bit older than when they last met. He was growing from a boy into a fine young man. That had calmed Link nerves somewhat. He wasn’t in a group of total strangers.

When they had first met, they had all quickly learned that their given name, Link, wasn’t going to work. They would have quickly lost track of who was talking to who and for what.

They had dubbed him The Captain after he had given a general run down of his occupation and his reason for being there. When he had given his title however, there were a few strange stares. No one other than the sailor seemed to know who the Hero of Warriors was. So he tried other names. Hero of Eras. Hero of the War of Eras. Nothing seemed to ring for the lot of them.

The oldest, someone who commanded respect, looked at him for a while longer than he was comfortable with. He couldn’t figure it out for the longest time.

Until he pulled out that accursed mask.

Warrior, as he’s slowly become accustomed to being called, recognized it on sight. His heart stopped and dropped through the crust of the earth. He’s ashamed to admit the amount looks sent the hero’s way afterwards.

The Old Man singled him out after a while and took him aside for a chat. At first, Warrior felt argumentative. He had asked, no, demanded the older hero, none to gently, for the reason that he had that mask.

Ever patient, Time pulled it out and looked at it. He had asked Warrior instead how the other knew about it.

There was a beat of tense silence.

“I once met a boy.” Warrior admits. “He carried that mask religiously. Used it without reservation. The power was breathtaking. It was never meant for him but he wouldn’t allow anyone other than me to so much as touch it.”

Warrior looked back to him, willing the other to be cooperative. Now that he’s seeing them side by side, the war paint on the side of Time’s face is strikingly familiar. He had thought they were interesting tattoos, not wanting to jump to conclusions at first. But there’s no denying it now. Warrior flexes his jaw and glares at the older man. “I’m sure you already know what I’m talking about.”

Time presses his lips in a thin line and nods subtly. “I’m not surprised you remember as much as you do. The most that I remember was that your singing voice left much to be desired.”

He smirks.

Warrior furrows his brows. What does that have to do with anything? He keeps staring. And staring. And staring.

It clicks.

“You brat.”

The conversation was less tense after that.

The mission was steadily following progress and they felt as if they were getting closer to their goal each and every day. Warrior felt confident with this group and the young men that he felt were his brothers.

Then they hit another bump in the road. Almost literally.

They had found you on the side of the road, unconscious and bloody but alive. Warrior was quick to start barking orders. Between the potions, the bandages and minor stitches, they had managed to patch you up but had yet to wake up at all.

The next town was still a few days' journey away. 

Warrior took over watching over you as the others went their way to set up the camp.

He wasn’t a stranger to injuries. He wasn’t a stranger to blood. He wasn’t a stranger to casualties of war.

But he never had to personally deal with civilian casualties.

He knew they happened. Warrior wasn’t about to fool himself into thinking this wasn’t a common place with violence. But he could see the way you dressed. They were tattered with the attack you clearly went through, but there weren’t enough defensive layers, you weren’t wearing any armor. It was a simple cloth covering and that was it. Decorated, naturally, that showed a small light to the culture you belonged to but that was the extent of it.

It was interesting. Warrior hadn’t seen anything like it.

Warrior watched the fire, taking the first watch by silent admission that he wasn’t going to move from that spot whatsoever. He adjusted the bandages on your head and moved the blanket to properly cover your shoulders as you slept.

When everyone had more or less fallen asleep already, you blinked your eyes open and started looking around. Warrior put a hand on your collar bone. He was gentle. He wasn’t sure if you had any hidden bruises. “Easy. You’re safe.”

Your breath hitched and he could feel your heart rate go up from under his palm. “Wh-where am I? Who are you?”

Warrior took a deep breath. “My name is Link, but call me Captain or Warrior, please. You’re not that far off from where we found you. The town is still too far away to make it in a single day. What’s your name?”

You tell him and gulp down the little spit that you have. Slowly, it appears that you’re becoming more aware of your surroundings. You can see that you’re still outside and that the darkness is merely because it’s night time. You turn your head and look at the group around you. You can see the boys and how they’re sleeping.

“Who are you people?” You whisper, looking back to him. “Why are there so many of you?”

Warrior smiles tensely. “We’re traveling… mercenaries. We fight the monsters that threaten the safety of the people. You’ll be safe with us.”

You nod, calming down significantly. You didn’t seem to pick up on the magical items they had out in the open or their seemingly too young members of the group. It must be too hard to see them in the dark… Either that or your injuries merely helped to mask the young faces that were still reflecting in the firelight. No matter, he wasn’t going to promote the idea that your life was in the hands of children.

That could wait until the morning when you were feeling a little stronger. Hopefully.

You fell asleep soon after that.

Warrior took it upon himself to watch after you from that point on. Sure, he wasn’t the most skilled medic on the field but he wasn’t about to burden the others with even more responsibility than they were already dealing with. He helped you keep up with the group and he took care of your injuries as it was.

You had told them that you were lost and you were attacked by a large monster that you had never seen before. You had told the group that it was large and pure black with the beadiest red eyes you had ever seen.

Naturally, that was of great interest to the group. However, they couldn’t decide if that meant there was a target on your back or you a mere victim of circumstance. It wouldn’t have done them any good if they were to leave you at the next town. If you were merely attacked from being at the wrong place at the wrong time then it would have been just as well and they would have been on their merry way.  If you were attacked for a target on your back, then no one was willing to leave you to your own devices.

Warrior was one of the first to keep you from fighting since you still had to recover from your injuries but once you were back on your own two feet- he realized just as quickly as the others- that you couldn't fight.

Something clicked in Warrior’s mind then. 

Something he wasn’t sure that would have been awakened as it did. It was a familiar feeling when he remembered the little boy with that accursed mask but there was a major difference here.

With the boy, who was no longer a boy, he already knew how to fight. He had weapons. He had magic. He had experience. The boy was an incredible fighter. Even if Warrior didn’t want him to be there, there was no doubt in his mind that the boy could take care of himself.

You couldn’t take care of yourself.

The thought terrified him.

At least you had gotten comfortable with the group. It had taken a while, no doubt but Wind had made it his personal mission to become your new best friend. From there, Warrior was able to stay close and do his job of taking care of you. With Warrior staying near, Twilight was able to get past your barriers, closely followed by Time. Little by little, everyone was able to befriend you and it was as if you belonged among them.

Warrior had managed to calm himself down from his earlier panic and let go of the need to hover over you for your safety.

But that didn’t stop the minor wrinkles to his plan.

They were still attacked. They still had to fight. The battle hadn’t ended just because you had joined them on their mission.

You had to run every time and hide. They would take care of business and then everyone would regroup at the end. You had helped with cooking and with patching them up when needed but there was always the wave of relief when Warrior had come back to the others and there wasn’t a single scratch on you.

“Hey.” You walked up to him one day, bandages in hand with an unreadable expression on your face. “Your turn.”

Warrior looked up from where he was biting the tourniquet tighter on his arm. He dropped it pathetically and looked away. Shame, crawled up his back and he shook his head. “Wild took a hit to the head. It’ll be better if you would check up on him first. I’ll be fine.”

Your expression turned deadpanned. “He already has three people looking after him. And you’re clearly struggling to get that yourself.”

“I’m fine.” He bit it again and pulled to tighten it once more.

The cut on his forearm wept the blood pathetically. Turnikit was doing its job well enough, but Warrior wasn’t entirely sure how he was going to put the stitches in himself if his dominant hand was out of the question.

You threw the bandages at his head, catching them before they hit the ground. “Idiot.”

You sat down next to him and took his arm in yours. “You’re always looking after everyone. Myself included. How you haven’t dropped dead yet, I’d never know.”

Warrior growls, feeling the pain come up from the movement on his arm. He bites on his own tongue- something he knows better than to do. “I’m fine. I’m used to it.”

“You’re going to drop dead.” You glare at the cut on his arm, already pulling out the thread and needle. “We have to stop the bleeding first. Hold on.”

Warrior growls, letting you do as you please. As much as his instincts are telling him to not let you do it- there’s something intimately primal telling him that if it had to be anyone, you’re the best option.

He feels his heart start to beat a little fast as you get closer to him, tending to his injury with such care- his spit gets stuck in the middle of his throat.

When the needle comes close to his skin, he looks away and brings his scarf up to take a large bite. You don’t once look up at him. All your attention is on your work in front of you and in making sure the job is done right. Which is strange, he isn’t entirely sure when you learned how to do all of this.

“There.” You pull away and start to wrap up the injury with the bandages. “We’ll have to take those out in a few days, but you should be all set to go. Take it easy in the meantime, ok?”

“And if we get attacked again?” Warrior mutters, watching your hands. They look entirely unblemished. Not a single piece of evidence that you’ve lived a life of violence. He had the sudden urge to reach out and study them.

You shrug. “I’ll take you with me and we can both hide together. But I won’t let you fight until you’re all better.”

Something twitches in his chest and his eyes trail up your arm, landing on the slope of your neck and your jaw line. You look up at him and smile. Warrior is suddenly struck dumb by the look. The firelight accentuates the lines of your face and the slope of your nose and the crinkle around your eyes. It wasn’t a smile that stretched from ear to ear but it was perfect enough for him to suddenly notice how breathtaking you were. And your eyes- were they always that shade-?

“You kept me from a lot of the violence when I first joined the group. You tried your hardest to make me feel comfortable even though we both know that I’m the outlier here.” You say softly, tying off the bandage at last. “You’ve been good to me. I’ve never thanked you for it.”

Warrior lets the moment settle. He realizes belatedly that he should respond with something. He looks back down to his arm, gently taking it away from you now that you’ve helped him out. It’s an awkward movement. He doesn’t actually want to do it. “...It was my pleasure.”

You smile and put your hand on his shoulder, stepping away at last to regroup with the others.

Warrior can feel that something has changed in his head. He’s always been considerate of you… he knows that. But suddenly the thought of your touch sends his heart into a frenzy.

He lets the moment pass and he never brings it up with you again.

You seem unbothered. You checked up with his injury and his attitude and seemed to hover over him just as much as he hovered over you when you first joined.

He has to admit. He likes the attention. He liked the quiet conversations. He liked the minor brushes of your hands as you walked. A leaf once fell on your hair and he brushed away. He’s never felt something so soft.

Little by little, Warrior started to want to spend more time with you. He wanted to see you smile again. He wanted to hear you laugh more. He just wanted to stay close to you.

He wasn’t sure if you thought of him at all. But he found you fascinating. He felt as if he could stare at you for hours and never tire of it. Warrior knew better than that though. He wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable after all this time because he didn’t know how to control himself.

It just so happened that it was one of these times, where you both were simply walking and talking together that there was another attack.

His arm had long since healed, but it still twisted strangely when he moved it a certain way. He still had yet to work up the strength to get back to where he was.

On instinct, he wrapped his arms around you and pushed you to the dirt. He strapped on his shield and held it over his head as the familiar sounds of arrows flying through the air landed around you all. 

You had yelped at his sudden movement, throwing your arms over your head. When the initial attack died down and the waves of monsters started to emerge from the tree line, Warrior grabbed you by the back of your shirt and hauled you back to your feet. He pushed you in the opposite direction and took out his sword. “Go! Run!”

You didn’t have to be told twice.

He’s not sure what came over him that day but he found himself fighting twice as hard as he usually does. He felt furious.

He can’t figure out why.

Warrior can feel his injured arm yell at him for the force he’s putting behind his strikes but that isn’t enough to convince himself to hold back even remotely.

This fight is different.

The monsters may not be black blooded but they’re fiercer than they’ve gotten used to. The amount of monsters is nothing to scoff at.  The boys give it their all to fight them back and destroy them all but they find themselves overwhelmed.

First, Hyrule had taken a slash across the leg which sent the nearby monsters into a further frenzy. Wild had jumped in to help his brother in arms and fight the monsters off of his back. Twilight had joined shortly as The Champion led Hyrule out of the area. But that did nothing to calm down the monsters.

Legend had tapped out of his magic within moments and stood side by side with Sky- but they were both losing steam.

Wind and Time were trapped between a circle of monsters that attacked them mercilessly. Time was already sporting a head injury while Wind held his arm back in obvious pain. Four had used the ability of his sword to help them out in the meantime but that left them all distracted.

Warrior had jumped in to help Twilight with the rabid beasts before an explosion was set off in the same direction that Time and Wind were in. Panic instantly struck Warrior's heart. He struck down the monster in front of him and ran to the area once more, abandoning Twilight to his own devices.

Time was face down in the dirt and Wind was pushing himself back up with a broken arm. He runs to Time and pushes him over. He’s alive, but unconscious.

Twilight yells in the distance as he’s pushed back and cut from the monster surrounding them and he can hear Legend yelling at Sky to get out of the area to catch his breath.

A familiar mask appears in the corner of his eye.

He grabs it without a second thought but doesn’t put it on.

A voice in the back of his head is screaming at him to leave it alone but when he sees Four’s literally begin to fall as well, he knows that they’re in over their heads. Wind gets to his feet but his arm is hindering from fighting any more. Time is unresponsive. Hyrule is a current liability for reasons he’s not sure why. Twilight is about to go down. Wild hasn’t returned yet and Legend and Sky aren’t going to last much longer.

The monsters close in on them and somewhere, Warrior hears you scream. A second passes and you scream for him.

“WARRIOR!!!”

His blood runs cold and he looks down at the beckoning mask.

He puts it on.

Warrior can feel his mind go blank and his body begins to move on its own. Someone else is in control but he doesn’t feel afraid. He’s not remotely concerned. Somehow, this feels natural. A common goal is shared.

He fails to fully comprehend the massacre in the battle that followed.

The monsters drop like flies.

He’s distantly aware that he’s bigger than he usually is and that the sword in use is not his own white sword. White braided hair flies over his shoulder from time to time as he moves. His arm is no longer bothering him. 

He saves Twilight first, quickly fending off the monsters that push in on Sky and Legend. Legend stares at him with nothing short of shock and awe. Sky is too busy falling to knees in a coughing fit to figure it out. Wild comes out the woodwork at last, jumping it on the back of an elk to charge at the monsters around Four. 

He decides to not question it.

Time and Wind are quickly escorted out of the area. Although Wind cannot do much to help as it is, he promises to watch over Time as Warrior gently places him against a tree. He doesn’t seem too surprised that Warrior had made this decision.

The Captain hopes Time can forgive him for this.

With the immediate more or less taken care of, Warrior sprints in the direction of your call. He’s praying he’s not too late. A sense of calm soothes him although his first reaction is to reject it. You’re not a fighter, he seems to remind “himself”. You had to run. You had to hide. And you screamed for him to come for you.

He’s back at the last place he saw you before he knew it. Your tracks are still there. They’re still fresh, naturally. He looks at the direction they took off in and follows them. 

Distantly, he can hear the grunts and squeals of the monsters ahead and b-lines toward them instead.

He makes it there at once in his larger form and destroys them without a second thought. A beat passes and he scans the area for you. But he finds nothing.

A deep growl escapes him. He’s not used to the sound, nor does it sound like his voice, but it feels right. 

Where are you? He looks at the ground for more tracks. The dirt is too kicked up to make them out anything from a first glance, so he squats down to look carefully for any hints to what could be there.

He’s no hunter, but it’s not the first time he’s had to track down persons of interest. He puts his palm to the dirt and looks closer. He sees the familiar lines of your shoe- a single footprint.

You went off to the right.

He heads in that direction as well.

The forest is quiet now.

He hasn’t heard any monster sounds since he’s destroyed the ones in the local area and the sounds of the battle behind him have also quieted down.

He has yet to take account of where Hyrule went but you take precedence.

He walks quietly, straining his ears to hear anything other than breeze shuffling the leaves above him. His footsteps are muffled but he steps on a twig.

A gasp.

His head snaps in that direction and he waits.

Silence follows suit.

He waits.

And waits.

He says your name, once, and stalks in the direction of the sound.

Warrior makes another calculated sound, searching for any sort of reaction that wouldn't have belonged to the forest otherwise. Said forest is silent around him, as if it knows of the strange change that occurred to him. He knows not how the forest knows- only that the forest is correct.

“Link?” A small voice calls from his left. 

Warrior snaps his head in that direction and takes two steps. He proves a point to make more sound so that you know that he’s approaching you. Another gasp but no evidence of your presence. He can only assume that you’re still hiding. You’ve had plenty of practice at this point. The fact that he still can’t see is a testament to your new skill. Pride surges through him. It’s incredible. A very talented feat indeed.

“Oh Captain…” Your quiet voice laments.

Slowly, you emerge from the treeline and begin to approach him. Your footsteps are small and your hands are clasped in front of your chest. You’re looking up at him with clear fear in your eyes but you still bravely make your way toward him.

You’re a lot smaller than he thought you would be. He must be bigger than he originally assumed he was. He drops a knee and tries to make himself as peaceful and approachable as possible.

As you study the change he’s no doubt gone through, he’s also looking over you.

He’s looking for any possible injuries that may have befallen you in the very short time you’ve spent apart. Your pants have been torn and there’s a little blood on your hand. There’s mud on your face and on your shirt but the blood sticks out to him the most. He searches for anything else that might jump out to him but he always returns to that little speck of blood. Rage fills him from the core to the brim but he stays silent. The only hint that he may be feeling anything at all is the way his jaw flexes as the sight of you.

There doesn’t seem to be anything else of interest aside from your mused hair. It would have been cuter had it not been for the context surrounding it. You reach out and tug on a hanging cloth from his shoulder. It falls from his shoulder and covers a bit of his front. It’s a familiar bright blue but the gold trimming and embroidery around the edge is new.

Tears suddenly spring up in your eyes and you begin to shake.

Warrior reaches to wipe the tears away but you flinch away from him. He freezes.

“Please…” You whimper. “Don’t do this.”

His heart flutters in the worst way possible. It sinks and bobs uncomfortably in his chest.

A sorrowful but accepting feeling passes over him. This is more or less what he should have expected. It’s just a shame you’ve already reached this point as it is. Still- the job had been completed. The mask, he supposes, is no longer needed.

He reaches up to his face hesitantly and feels a small divot on his jaw. He hooks his thumb behind it and pushes against it. It’s a strange and disorienting feeling as the magic is ripped away from him.

Warrior finds himself back on his feet but it’s as if he’s broken the surface after swimming for long under the water. He gasps and his head feels light. The shock of the transformation leaves him coughing and disoriented. He can feel the world go sideways. Warrior doesn’t even register that he’s closed his eyes in the middle of it all.

Hands land on his arms and steady him before he lurches forward. 

“...My Captain…” You say and pull him for a hug. “I was so afraid.”

He lulls his head to the side, resting it in the crook of your neck and hugs you back. 

“I’m sorry…” He says as he clears his throat. Warrior can already feel his sense returning. His arm is already screaming at him for the mistreatment. He doubts he’ll be able to use it at all tomorrow. “I heard you scream… and we needed backup… I panicked.”

You sniffle. Warrior holds you tighter and runs his hand (not on the injured arm) over your head and through your hair. Droplets of water start to hit his neck and Warrior starts to get choked up.

He takes a deep breath and pulls away from you. “Are you hurt?”

You shake your head.

“Liar.” He whispers and pulls your hand up. It’s a small skin abrasion. He’s not entirely sure why he locked onto it so much with the mask on. This is ignorable at best- but it felt as if you had been cut or stabbed.

He kisses your hand anyway, being gentle to avoid the sight of the injury. “I thought I had lost you.”

You shake your head but fail to speak more. He tugs you back to where he knows he’s left most of the group. He holds your hand close and keeps you practically glued to his side. His eyes search high and low for any other threat that might be hiding among the trees- but nothing else comes out to attack the two of you.

The supplies that were dropped are quickly searched through. He wants to give you a health potion but the others are in much worse shape. You don’t seem to know any better about the well being of the others in the group. You’re still anxious and frazzled from the initial attack.

Little by little the group reforms and they stock the casualties. Health potions are split amongst those who need them the most. One is fed to Time, seeing as he still has yet to wake up. 

Warrior returns the mask to its original holder and slot with little fanfare. He’s not looking toward the conversation that no doubt will follow once the others fill the Old Man in about recent events.

Wild, being the champion he is, was quick to make more potions once the original supply had run dry. You jumped into action without a second thought as the boys slowly filed in one by one.

Other than himself, Wild is the only one with the least injuries. Sky is next- with only his lack of air taking him down for the count this time around. The rest must be tended to one way or another.

Slowly, as to not arouse suspicion, Warrior breaks away from the group and finds a quiet corner where he could process what he’s done alone.

You appear next to him within moments.

“...Link?...”

Warrior freezes. He doesn’t think he’s ever heard you say his name. He gulps and bites the inside of his lip. He’s afraid to face you. He’s not brave enough. “...yes?...”

You squat down and put a hand on his shoulder. “I know that wasn’t easy… But thank you… for everything.”

He nods, keeping a hand on half of his face to try and hide what he can from you.

You kiss his open cheek and his head snaps to you with shock and awe. Your earlier words when he took off the mask slammed into the forefront of his mind.

You smile and stand up. “I’ll wait for you.”

[voltronisanobsession]

Oh boy, oh boy, do I have something for you. I really hope this is as good as the other requests I’ve given you, but can you imagine a Percy x Zagreus!reader?

The Reader is the child of Zagreus himself, who doesn’t have a good relationship with the Olympian queen. This means Hera is against his child as well and, despite being a goddess of marriage, tries to keep them away from their father as much as possible. But the Reader doesn’t care, they’ll fight their way to the Underworld no matter how long it might take.

So… how do you think Percy would react with this one? Think he’ll fall head over heels for their determined attitude? Join them in their runs? Patch them up while also scolding them if they come back terribly injured? You gotta tell me what you think.

Hope this is good, hope your day is going well, and have a good morning! Or afternoon…? Maybe even night?

And no, no, I did not draw inspiration from the Hades game, slowly falling in love with it, and trying to find as much gameplays as I can. Nope, don’t know what you’re talking about (😉)

Percy with a Child of Zagreus Reader

OOOOO😻😻 I can smell the bitterness of this reader coming from a mile away💀

I didn’t even know there was a game called Hades, Imma have to look a little into. I kinda mostly focused on reader for this one if I’m being honest

Not proofread💔

Being a child of Zagreus, Hera has put reader through HELL growing up

Like gods aren’t normally supposed to interfere with demigods and whatnot but since she has a bone to pick with the underworld god, you would never be on good terms with Hera

Zagreus would’ve wanted to raise you himself lowkey, probably if your mother died unexpectedly, and mostly to protect you from the wrath of the goddess

But this is Hera we’re talking about, she’s a very bitter and unfair goddess, so she’s willing to tear you both apart if it means seeing Zagreus continuously suffering

Reader is forced to grow up alone, running away from danger that seems to follow them at every corner and turn

The only thing you would have of your father is a pendant of his, and the distant memory of his face

Maybe he even gave you a blessing of protection and perseverance, something that would help you before you were taken away from him

I think Hera would have some curse placed on you and your father, something that keeps y’all from each other

Him trapped in the underworld and you forced to walk the world of the living, cursed to never find an entrance to the world below

Yeah you grow up very untrusting towards others because of Hera’s constant tricks

Most people you’ve met had always broken your trust and betrayed you in some way

So it’s no real shocker when you keep your distance when you first meet Percy

Percy had probably saved you from being eaten by a monster or even helped you run away from some situation that escalated badly

Whatever happened, he’s eager to talk to a new demigod!

It’s not everyday he meets a new halfblood outside of camp

And as nice and silly as he is, you can’t let yourself get close to him, after all this could just be another façade sent to distract you

So it surprises him when you walk past him without introducing yourself or thanking him

You kinda just look at him and move on with your life💀

And that’s what makes you so interesting to Percy! With the way you walk like you’re on a mission, since he has nothing better to do, he decides to join you!

And that’s how his journey with you begins

He fills the empty silence left by you with loud talking and ramblings, and somewhere along your journey, you actually begin to enjoy his company

One worded responses turn to small comments to actual conversations

You can’t help it honestly, you’ve been alone for so long that you crave the presence of another person

It’s a weakness that has led to so much heartbreak and betrayal in your past

But you allow yourself to indulge in Percy, allow yourself to believe he won’t turn against like the others had

Percy definitely notices how you don’t reveal much about yourself

You’re so closed off to a point where he basically only knows your name

And yet he can’t stop his heart from beating faster when you let a smile slip when he says something stupid

I think it would be during the dead of night where you finally reveal why you’ve been wandering around

Like y’all have been traveling together for a while and you ACTUALLY trust him

Percy is so sincere and doesn’t make false promises or comments

He’s an open book basically😭 you can tell he’s a genuine person, and from what you’ve heard about the demigod, he’s a good person

You dare say you might have even grown to like him😦

He honestly admires your perseverance and bravery, like you’ve been on your own for YEARS

Your determination to see your father again captivated him

He feels sorry for you too, you’ve been separated from the only family you know and with no way to get to him

He’s also lowkey scared of your lack of respect towards the powerful goddess

He’s learned to never make a god angry, but he guesses that doesn’t apply to your situation since the goddess had been after you the second you were born

Percy would totally mention how his friend, Annabeth, claims that Hera has a vendetta against her too

If this is after the first war with Kronos, I think you might even reveal how you fought along side him

Percy is shocked to hear that but not really surprised since you never had a good relationship with the Olympian

Kronos promised you that you would be able to see your father again, so you willingly joined his army

Like having this convo with you, it really makes Percy see how anyone can be influenced by the experiences they go through in their life

Percy really wants to help you so I think he might introduce you to Nico

“Nico might actually be able to help you get to the underworld! He’s the son of Hades, by the way.”

“Wait, are you serious? Hades has a son? Why didn’t you say anything sooner?!”

It takes time trying to contact the younger boy, but you still jump on Percy and hug him cuz AHH

You might actually be able to see your father!!!

And Percy is just as happy to see you smiling brightly as the younger boy makes his appearance

Hell you might even give him a small peck on the cheek as a thank you teehee (this dudes face would be REEEDDDD)

But danger finally strikes you all when Nico leads you to an entrance to the underworld

Monster quite literally spawn out of NOWHERE, mostly attacking you and keeping you away from the one place where people would stray far away from

You dodge any swipes and attacks aimed at you, inching closer to the entrance until you’re launched back

Battered and bruised, you get up only to be pulled away by Percy

He would try to explain that it was too dangerous to continue, that you all needed to fall back and come up with a plan!

“Percy let go of me! I’m so close, you can’t do this to me!”

“We need to get back now! Please! We won’t be able to beat them! They’ll kill you!”

It’s a complete surprise to him and Nico when you pull out a sword against him, it being half celestial bronze and steel

Nah cuz this would be a major breaking point for both of y’all, having such a dangerous weapon would cause Percy to question your morals😭💔

You would slowly back away from him, realizing that he didn’t betray your trust, but you betrayed his

You would separate from him as you fight your way to the underworld entrance, looking back once to him, heart breaking at the sight of his hurt expression

Your alone in the underworld now, and Percy can’t help but feel hurt that you would be so reckless and driven to this state

He would totally go in after you though despite Nico’s warnings

If Percy can find you before you run into any more trouble, then maybe your fate won’t end in tragedy

Zagreus!Reader is actually pretty reckless when it comes to being reunited with their father. It’s something that Percy admires and hates about them, since most of the time it leads them to getting hurt in the end

He just wants to help you in anyway he can, you just gotta let him help. Your untrusting nature might be the cause of your downfall if you don’t learn to trust others💔

(I love this reader tbh, so much potential when it comes to the underworld hehe)

[nicromancytarot]

WHAT DO YOU NEED TO KNOW RIGHT NOW?

This is a general reading based on a collective of people. Take what resonates and leave what doesn’t. If you don’t feel the pile resonates with you, don’t be scared to try another, if it still doesn’t feel right, that’s ok! Maybe our energies aren’t as connected and my readings are not for you.

I do these strictly for fun and educational purposes. I don’t change for these readings and I do not fake readings. I would tell you the cards I got but I pull like 20-30 cards each reading and that just slightly a strenuous task to write them all down lmao.

PICK A CARD READING

I asked my spirit guides what you need to know right now (and I got some weirdass answers), pick a card to find out what they have to tell you.

PILE 1

This was certainly a confusing reading, the first thing I was seeing was someone scrunched up on a couch, holding a telephone to their chest while three people tried to pry it from their hands. I also noticed that there weee hills piling up. Weirdly, the message I was getting was that bills weren’t being paid for the sake of hoarding money, and this person had swapped/sold out their old mobile phone for a much cheaper alternative (telephone) to preserve money.

The cards showed me a story of someone who had made a large sum of money but were hoarding it due to financially unstable beginnings. I see this making the person feel trapped and territorial. When visualising I saw a young firm who was even afraid of the attitude this person had, this may be your child, your inner child or a future child or yours.

Spirit showed me the 10 of pentacles, the empress and the death cards to symbolise that this is something you need to take the time to grow from, and let go of.

With the high priestess and wheel of fortune I can see that you can continue/start spending that money that you need to be spending and the universe will continue to give you the money as a reward if you allow it.

But do not overindulge.

I asked for some confirmation, and I got the word “liver”. After research I learnt that you can remove 90% of the liver and it will still grow back to its full size. I see this as a message to tell you not to worry about the loss and focus on what can be built up again.

PILE 2

Firstly, for visuals I saw a girl and a guy (gender doesn’t matter for this) inside an arcade, the guy stood by while the girl won a teddy bear from the claw machine (a notoriously hard game to win). After she had won it, the guy proceeded to try and steal the machine. The girl stood on lookout but was against the idea. She then pulled him out of the arcade and berated him for his stupidity - he however, did not care. After a little while they had calmed down and she asked him to go on the helter skelter (is that how you spell it?) He then flat out refused, not having a care for her desire.

I can see that this connection isn’t one you want to keep, whether this is family, friends, or even a partner, I can tell that this person doesn’t understand you and doesn’t plan on trying to anytime soon. The claw machine felt like an easy way to your heart and instead of taking the time to try their best at winning you another teddy, which would take time, money and effort, they resulted to trying to steal it. They didn’t care about the consequences of getting caught because they never seem to think ahead. They tend to live in the moment and that can get them in trouble.

To me the helter skelter represented the lengths that you would go for them (since it’s quite high up and I’m personally terrified of heights.) And you would take that journey to climb the stairs, get to the top and then make your way down the slide, meanwhile they were not willing to do this for you.

The cards tell me a similar story, I see a selfish individual that gives only what they can gain, this means materially you can have everything, but emotionally, they offer nothing close to what you desire. You’re willing to work on the relationship but they are not. This causes gossip and instability, it leaves you up at early hours of the morning upset.

I would recommend standing your ground and realising your worth so you can finally walk away.

[starshipsofstarlord]

norman reedus // daryl dixon

divider credits. @cafekitsune

🥀 = smut (18+, minors dni)

🍄 = requested

daryl dixon

Sleepless

On the farm, you struggle to fall asleep due to all the things that you know that surround you, from the walkers in the barn to Shane. The only thing that can make you feel any comfort is Daryl (1.4k)

Prisoner 🥀

(Early season 3 based) Winter had been a long journey for all of your group, especially you and Daryl given that there was always a lack of privacy. You find it difficult to feel at home in the prison, but Daryl is always there for you when you need him, and you have the chance to relish in a night alone - or as lonesome as a cell can be (2.9k)

Pretty Eyes

(Late season 2 based) throughout the outbreak, after meeting Daryl Dixon the two of you had always clashed heads. However when you reach the CDC, convinced you had been saved, you decide it’s time that you get along (1.4k) 🥀

you and daryl have reverted to your original positions, however your divide in getting along isn’t only affecting the two of you. it’s endangering the group, and so when needs must, you have to reconcile and make a truce (2.2k)

picking up where you left off isn’t always the easiest thing to proceed with, especially when you and daryl are still bickering. but there are ways to make amends 🥀

Throbbing 🥀

Daryl needs you, however you’re out on a run, so he has no other cure other than to take care of himself (0.8k)

Using You 🥀

you love him, you really do - he’s your best friend, however you’re scared if you choose to be with him you’ll lose him; you’d already lost too much. However, Daryl thinks that you’re using him to distract yourself with sex. It’s up to you to prove him wrong (2.9k)

Bemused

daryl becomes bemused by y/n and her affections towards him. also the story of how daryl ‘found’ his vest (0.6k)

How to Weaken a Man 🥀

you were going to get what you wanted, Daryl however was going to have to wait. He was deserving of a taste of his own medicine, after him constantly being in charge, it was time for a change (3.3k)

Cuddle Bunny

all you can do is reflect on the past as you sit by a tired and bedridden daryl, hellbent on not leaving his side. It seems he doesn’t want you to leave either, as you are the only person that sees him for who he is, in every light (1.3k)

Nexus to the Next Life

the cdc was supposed to be the start of continuing life, however after jenner has revealed that the haven of which you had travelled to is going to self destruct, you endure a battle with yourself. to stay and die quickly, or leave and possibly die slowly (1.2k)

Not Yet Corpses. Still, We Rot 🥀🍄

you were surviving after the prison fell, whilst you felt lost deep inside of yourself. without daryl, and the others that you had lost and yet to find, everything only seemed to get worse. and all was proven when the claimers interrupted your futile attempts of avoiding nightmares

Lap Girl

a series of unchronological scenarios of y/n being in daryl’s lap within part of their journey (part 1 - the first night in alexandria)

daryl needs comfort at the greene farm after he fails to find sophia again. luckily his girl is willing to give him exactly what he needs; her in his lap

there’s no better position for daryl than when his girl is in his lap 😉🥵 🥀

daryl is in mourning for his brother merle, overcome with grief and guilt. all he needs is to lay on his girls lap and receive her affection

y/n and daryl are seated on the couch in their home, however there’s only one problem; he’s in her spot. he’s happy enough to move so that she can be comfortable, but his girl has a better idea

Locked Away 🥀🍄

whilst hiding out from walkers in a closet, you grow extremely bored. the only thing to do is daryl, but you have to make sure he stays quiet

Honey suckle 🥀

daryl gets lost in eating his favourite meal between your legs

prompts and drabbles and headcanons

“I don’ have the patience ter remove yer clothes righ now.” 🥀

daryl returns from a hunt, but he doesn’t care for what he caught; he’d rather catch you beneath him (0.8k)

“thought you were mad at me.” “it’s a hate boner, i swear.”

you and daryl, despite fighting and surviving side by side for years, have always had a tendency to get on each others nerves. the one thing he hates more than your recklessness however, is seeing you hurt

nsfw alphabet 🥀

daryl pre-apocalypse dating headcanons

sub!daryl headcanons 🥀

what it would be like to have a subby daryl at your hands 🥵😭

young!daryl dixon

surrogate comfort 🥀

daryl comes to your home, finding peace between your legs before you relieve his homeward bound struggles

norman reedus

Got a Light?

Norman goes to a bar after a long day on set, and he’s unexpectedly approached by a ‘stranger’ (1k)

Normal Morning with Norman

inspired by this prompt - early morning kiss - a kiss that’s a wake up call, it’s barely even a lips touching, more like they’re kissing your chin because they’re so tired in the early morning haze (0.5k)

[nayatarot777]

messages from the moon • one

patreon

• pile one •

there’s a new creative idea that you have that could really lead to creating valuable content that will help other people. this new creative idea is most likely related to your logical, your communication, and your rationality (which you’re extremely good at embodying). however, you should probably get completely clear with what this new idea that you have would entail by writing down what you’re going to materialise based off of your creative vision. there’s a message to write down your ideas a lot more in general. they’re extremely valuable and you’d be surprised by the return of investment when these ideas are acted upon. also, your sweetness and kindness to others is a gift. try to spread that more through small acts of kindness throughout your days - whether that’s online or in person. and there’s also a message about crowdfunding for the sake of raising money for your creative projects - don’t be afraid to ask for support. again, you’d be surprised by how quick many people are willing to support you.

• pile two •

there are negative memories from the past that are most likely holding you back in some way, due to your unbridled focus on them. of course, what we experience will always leave an imprint onto us, but i feel like most of you in this pile have been in a drawn-out period of thinking about people in particular who you quickly learned that you had to protect yourself from. there may even be people from the past who have impacted whether or not you truly listen to yourself and whether or not you follow your passions. it’s time to make the decision to move on from this through healing from the past in some way. and i’m hearing to replace the thoughts of those who’ve doubted you and undermined you and your ambitions with the thoughts of those who’ve supported you. try to just guide your mind back to love and support that you’ve experienced in the past, instead of judgement. you’re not seeing something about your own passion and ambition, and how healing going after these things can be for you.

• pile three •

you have a very mature mind and you see the world (especially in relation to materialism and finances) extremely clearly. you may have your own opinions that are set-in-stone in which other people around you may not agree with. even though i’m seeing that there’s a lot of logic to your opinions and you can explain them thoroughly with rationality. it’s because you’ve broken free from living life in a group mindset. the people around you who dismiss your opinions may be your friends in particular. they might be a lot more immature than you (they’re just not ready to grow or better themselves yet), and that’s okay. it’s okay to just begin to make brand new connections with people who are more attuned to you. you’re not being stuck up in any way, or ‘unfair’ to anyone. you don’t have to cut these people off, but just know that you’re on a higher level than them in maturity - and don’t let that gas your head up too much. that doesn’t make you better than them, but you’re just on a whole new journey when it comes to being mature enough to see what you want to build in your life and going for it. it’s okay to not want to drink, and party, and gossip, and do shit that doesn’t serve you anymore.

[jenokoi]

How can you receive love?

INTUITIVE TAROT READING BY JENOKOI

A short tarot reading I did with my new deck. We’ll go a little bit at how you react to love and how it’s affecting your journey in this life.

Please take a deep breath and get comfortable. Let your intuition guide you to the answer you seek in the pictures below. Take as much time as you need.

PILE ONE > PILE TWO > PILE THREE

My tarot readings are guided by the current energy of my subject in question and my own spirit guides. Energies are prone to change based on our actions, and thus nothing is truly set on stone. Please take only what resonates, this is a general reading. It’s okay to not feel drawn to any of the images. If you have to force it into the narrative of your life, then it might not be for you. These readings are for entertainment purposes only.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

PILE I

My dear pile one, love is all around you. You are holding onto a fantasy, an idea. You ignore the signs leading you to a new path, like a fool you deny the chance to receive what you seek in what you already have. You believe if you keep on doing the same what you get will change. You force meaning into signs that ask you to open your eyes. You are tired, don’t realize you are drowning. Those beautiful feelings of yours are slowly turning into dead weight. Adventure is calling for you, but you have intoxicated your body and mind with a goal you no longer seem to want. But you have given too much to not see it through, even when the final line is out of view. Some of you might have a gambling addiction of sorts.

You are seeking a connection, be it to someone or a craft. But it seems your efforts are not being reciprocated or allowing you to advance. You are ignoring your calling for a purpose given to you rather than desired. It seems what was promised it’s not fulfilling you. You feel alone in a room so crowded. For some, family expects you to follow through with their wishes, not yours. You have made this path your destiny by force, and it has drained you of your will to continue.

Despite it all, deep down there’s is something you truly want and don’t believe you need. “It is not necessary, and thus I will ignore it.” You are being call to follow your dreams, to allow yourself to receive this gift. There might be someone in your life who brings you stability but not love. Your zone of comfort is making you miserable, but you are afraid of losing the safety it brings. For some, you might be ignoring a person who wants to give you the world, but you are afraid of the unknown. They represent clean, warm water, a new beginning. However, they are slowly growing tired of waiting for you.

This is very specific to some, take it or don’t, but do not force it; you might be in a dead end relationship and someone new has appeared who has bewitched you body and soul (they might be younger or older than you).

Be gentle to yourself and the world.

Cheetos, red hair, white snakes, ocean, bad eating habits, established relationships, period films, studying a major you have no affection for, age gap, Asian hereditary.

Advice from spirits: The Fool and The Emperor.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

PILE II

My sweet pile two, you are afraid of people. You think of love much but believe it will destroy you. Your emotions are yours and yours only, too honest, too fragile, and fear people will take advantage of your heart. Every offer you deny out of fear it is not what you want. “No one can return the love I give.” There’s so much passion in you, but you are careful with it, forbid it from growing on someone else’s garden. You think you will lose yourself in loving. Some of you might be insecure in your body through a lover’s gaze.

However, you seem to attract a lot of romantic prospects. People are willing to give themselves to you were you to give them the chance. In your eyes, none of them seek a true connection, which is what you desire. You are beautiful, pile two, and that makes you suspicious of everyone. Nonetheless, you enjoy the attention, the occasional playful banter, never too serious and never too real. You have made of love a dangerous threat. You have put all that love into yourself, and now no one could ever measure to it. But just as you nurtured your self-love, relationships take time and patience to evolve.

Your garden is filled with roses that no one can touch. You might have been betrayed before, not necessarily through a committed relationship. My sweet pile two, you don’t need to cut the roots of yourself to let them bloom somewhere else. Little by little, one seed at a time, you can expand all that love and passion on the ground you walk without losing yourself in the act. You have waited far too long for a miracle, but it won’t reach you unless you let it inside your home. Allow the world to know you, in all your beauty and glory, and it will worship the very ground you stand on.

Flowers, red dress, fatherless behavior, moon phases, birds, roses, night sky, hermit, feeling warm in cold weather, masculine energy, big breasts.

Advice from spirits: Ace of Cups and The Hanged Man.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

PILE III

Love passes you by as you wait for it to be perfect. Your heart is a privilege no one seems to be worth of. You are a strong-headed individual, resistant to the love you are being offered, despite your desire for it. You are a perfectionist. You might have been betrayed in the past, be it by someone or your own thoughts. You have been alone for quite some time, emotionally or physically, that you don’t find it necessary to have a partner to feel whole. This might be a good mindset had you not made it your biggest enemy. You are at peace in your loneliness, but often wonder how it would be like to share a life with a partner. Slowly but surely, you are walking a path of no return with a heart meant to not share a half.

You are held captive by the idea that one must be perfect to be your equal. You hold your prospects to the same standards as yourself. But darling, your own expectations of you drain you immensely. You have no time to nurture yourself, much less allow someone else the same. Even those you desire you forbid of your attention.

Be more kind to your own heart. Do not allow your past to consume your future. Your mind is beautiful, if a prison. Let yourself be wrong every once in a while, just as you learnt who you are by trying new things, let your heart find peace by listening to it. You are draining your soul in the physical world by not taking a break every once in a while. You overthink love too much, let it wither in your doubts. Your thoughts are all over the place, your head a home with no windows to filter the negative of them. Don’t hide from the world, it has been trying to help you for so long.

Gold jewelry, beautiful eyes, clouds, leaves, intrusive thoughts, past baggage, the color blue, long hair, dungeons and dragons.

Advice from spirits: Strength and the Devil.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Feedback is much appreciated. Remember the universe loves you.

[meshlasolus]

The Winner Takes It All

Episode 1

Pairing: Finnick Odair x Tribute(OC)!Reader

Chapter Warnings: The Hunger Games reaping. Canon typical angst. Reader has a speech impediment.

Chapter Summary: Lukas Artanhour is your best friend since childhood who makes the worst decision of his life when he volunteers as tribute for the 71st annual hunger games... Luckily, he won't be going alone, and you didn't even have to volunteer.

Word Count: 2.8k

Don't be detered by the OC in this chapter, he is just someone I made up to make the hunger games more emotional of an event 🙃

The representative from the Capitol being the same every year was almost a comforting sort of repetition through the years, but compared to the annual tradition it surrounded, you were hardly relaxed at seeing him make his dazzling appearance. A new outfit every year, made from the finest fabrics and silks that eight had to offer… And you wore the same green top and skirt. At least this year there were seashells. 

“Good afternoon, District Four!” His shout of happiness was hardly felt by any who stood here in this gathering. “There’s nothing like being here, amongst the beautiful waters and sandy beaches.”

It’s cold and windy down by the docks, with the sand getting kicked up from time to time. District Four is one of the most beautiful places in all of Panem, and it’s known, as all districts are, for its main production to the Capitol. Fish. 

The people here are wealthier than most in the districts, a close third in rank to both one and two, who reign supremely amongst the favorites. The Hunger Games have obviously played a serious part in all of that. Four being a career district meant that the Capitol goers were far more likely to invest. Careers are the favorites, no matter which district they come from. 

The reaping is today, and you don’t want to think about it. It is why you arrive at your work station an hour before you need to be there. You’ve spent years of your life down here by the docks, whether it was waiting for your father’s boat to return, or your friend to bring you the boxes that needed to be loaded onto Capitol trucks. You’re a mover, it’s your job. It doesn’t pay well, because the real money is in fishing, but you wouldn’t dare go out on a boat. 

“You’re early,” Lukas nearly spooks you, smiling after watching you jump from surprise. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s r-reaping day. I couldn’t s-sleep.”

He was used to the skip and stutter of your words, un-phasing him as you spoke each one. 

“I get it. My mom keeps hounding me about it. Every year I grow taller, stronger, she tells me I could win,” he sat down next to you in the sand, handing you a shell he found on his way here. “Another for the collection.”

“Thanks,” you took it gratefully, placing it in your pocket for safekeeping until later. You journeyed back to his previous words, what he meant by them. “Does your mother w-wish you’d gone through the career program?”

He shrugged, looking out into the sea, his mind just as full of indecent thoughts as yours. 

“I’m not sure what she wants. Ever since dad died she’s just been… different.”

“My parents have s-said, if it ever gets t-too bad, you c-can always stay with us.”

He nods, his appreciation shown through a single sideways glance. He knows he has places to go, he knows that there are others that are willing to treat him as a son should be treated, but he wants his own mother to do it. He longs for the woman she once was, and hopes if he can make her proud enough, maybe she will be that way again. 

“I’ll think about it,” he said, but he’d been saying that for the past year. 

So far, you’d learned she’d been hitting him, been yelling and screaming about how he would never measure up to his father. You never saw these interactions of course, because if you had you may have broken down for him, your friend of eleven years. In school, he was the only one who would talk to you, the only person who ever gave a damn about the girl with the stutter. He defended you when they made fun of you left and right, for nearly everything they thought was wrong with you.

“You s-shouldn’t listen to her,” you shook your head, the waves crashing on the shoreline several yards down. It was the only thing that would remain peaceful about today, when later on two children would be hauled off and expected to fight or die. “She isn’t in her r-right mind anymore.”

“I know that.” 

He agrees, he knows. He is well aware that her mind slipped maybe even before her husband died. She had been driving him to the long hours that he’d worked, and eventually made him work out on a ship during a storm. The boat sinking was just fan to the flame of her deteriorating mental state. 

He picked up a rock from the sand a few feet over, standing up and tossing it to skip over the water before it began to wash on the shore. He gave you a hand to your feet, pulling you up until you were steady. 

“Boat leaves in a few minutes, I’ll see you when we get back,” he said, turning on his heel in the sand. You nodded at him before he walked off, into the working hours of the day. You shouldn’t even be here for another hour. You know that they’ll be gone for two or more and you don’t need that long to prep the boxes. But you can’t sleep. 

-

Lukas returned to the docks with a much better mindset. The water always made him feel serene. He came to land, lugging the giant nets tied together to keep the fish from falling out. Today’s catch was good as any other, and the songs the boys sang on board nearly made him forget everything else. 

“Salmon are catching like crazy this time of year,” he muttered, meeting you halfway to help you untie the knots and start packing the boxes. “Thinking I might sneak one home if there’s extra. You probably can, too.”

“I’ll t-try. My pa could use s-something more to eat.”

He weeded through all the skimpy ones, pulling the biggest catches out first and laying them sideways in the boxes, filling the middles with ice before adding another layer. It was the same thing everyday, but he never tired of it. He was content to live the life of a district four fisherman, and he was good at it. 

“How’s his arm doing?” He asked, since you’d brought up your father. 

He’d broken it in a rigging accident about two months ago, and the slow healing process was not doing your family any favors. You’d been hungry several times, so obviously extreme measures had to be taken. You won’t think about that right now, though.

“Not any better, n-not any worse.” The fish box was nearly packed, but you paused to think for a moment. “Maybe I s-should try and catch. It pays a lot m-more, and we could use the money.”

He grabbed you by the shoulder and turned you to face him. 

“You’d be scared to death. If your family needs some money, I can help out. It’s the least I can do when they offer me free lodging,” he half joked, completely serious in all aspects about the help with financial assistance. 

“Lodging that y-you’ve never taken.”

“Listen, I’m happy to help if you need me to. Especially with your brother, now,” he mentioned, making you think about the sweet little sleeping face you’d passed by on the way out of your home. Your baby brother, born not a year ago. You hated the idea of him growing up hungry, or having to start work early in his life like you did. 

“Well, t-thank you. I’ll think about it.”

He shook his head, seeing as how you quoted him from all the times your family offered him help before. 

He waved you off when you finished stacking the prepared boxes onto your slab dolly, tilting it back and beginning to push it towards the truck that pulled in not too long ago. It was a steep climb, up the ramp from the docks and onto the street, but it made you quite strong over the years. That and all the heavy lifting, becoming easier with every twenty by thirty of fish. 

Lukas would be taking off early today, as would most of the other boys of age. You would be heading home after loading this shipment as it were. You had to shower, had to clean up your hair and skin and make yourself presentable for the reaping. 

You opened the back of the truck, tossing the boxes up one at a time, before climbing into it and stacking them neatly in one of the four corners. You always managed to obtain a single splinter from every shipment loaded, but luckily today’s wasn't too bad, you could probably dig it out with a small pin. 

Later in the day, your mother gave you a solemn smile as you walked out the door, having just been readied and dressed in your best clothes. Even in a wealthier district, they still had mended holes in the bottom of your skirt. That’s the sad thing about every district. Even amongst the wealthier ones, there’s still poverty that simply cannot be helped. The Capitol's greed and thirst for luxury, needing every little thing that life has to offer at their beck and call. You can’t even imagine what it’s like in places like eight or twelve. Places where food is not the primary cultivation of the people. 

It was light green, your outfit. It had white seashells on the waist of the top, and a few along the edge of the skirt as well. They hadn’t always been there, but you insisted they should be. You didn’t really have much else of a use for all the shells you stole from the sands of the shoreline. You hated wearing the same outfit to this single event every year. You hardly wore it any other time, which made a distaste for it grow every time it came out of your closet. 

The way your mother did your hair was simple. A single french braid down the back of your head, tied off with a light green ribbon to match everything else. She watched how it fell a bit looser with every step you took, making your way across the streets and into the city’s center. It’s your last year, and having avoided every year before, you know you should feel a semblance of relief, but you don’t. 

Your mother waits for the peacekeeper behind a stand to check your name off a list before she parts with you, hugging you tightly one last time and allowing you to kiss the head of the baby on her hip. He’s primarily the reason you remain so nervous. Even if your name doesn’t get called, his could be, someday.

You line up in an open space, next to the last girl that checked in. She wasn’t in your row last year, you would have remembered her. She was pretty, with blue eyes and dark raven hair. Her skin was tanned like most in four, but had a certain glow about it. She’s too pretty to be reaped, you thought. It didn’t make a difference, though. As you stared head on to the bowl on the stage, centered in front of the girl’s side, you got tense. Your name is in there six times this year. That’s three more than last year, and five more than the year before. 

Someone could still volunteer. But the career program had not made mention of producing a female tribute this year. It all depended on the luck of today’s draw. For all you knew, your name would be surpassed by someone else. There were other poverty stricken areas in four besides yours, and it made sense that somebody else could have been hungry enough to outgo you. 

You looked around to the boy's side. Lukas was there, and further up in the rows. He must have gotten here quickly after leaving the docks. His face was sullen, and something had changed, but you were unsure of what it was. When he looked around, you almost thought he’d been looking for somebody, but his expression told a far different story. 

The last few children in the line were filing in, and the musical fanfare blasted through the speakers by the stage. You were grateful not to be so close to those this year. 

The representative from the Capitol being the same every year was almost a comforting sort of repetition through the years, but compared to the annual tradition it surrounded, you were hardly relaxed at seeing him make his dazzling appearance. A new outfit every year, made from the finest fabrics and silks that eight had to offer… And you wore the same green top and skirt. At least this year there were seashells. 

“Good afternoon, District Four!” His shout of happiness was hardly felt by any who stood here in this gathering. “There’s nothing like being here, amongst the beautiful waters and sandy beaches.”

His rabble was boring, and nearly the same as it was last time. The anticipation was killing just about every girl and boy in this crowd, knowing there were no careers at the ready this year. It was always easier to rest at night while knowing if your name was called, another courageous youngster would step in to take your place. 

“I’m so excited to be back and reaping this year’s tributes for the 71st annual Hunger Games!” 

There was a surge of excitement coming from the sidelines, and it was only now that you looked past the blockades to see that there were actual Capitol civilians standing there this year. How nice, some onlookers for when an innocent child gets sent away to their death. Absolutely wonderful. You looked on past them, towards the victors standing close by. They seemed anxious as well, the old woman holding one fist to her mouth while the other clutched her chest. She rocked back and forth on her heels, and had to take a step every few seconds to keep from becoming too restless. The young man was stiff, his arms behind his back and every muscle in his body tense as a board. His eyeline never left the bowls on the stage. They went through this once, too.

When you refocused on the man at the microphone, your heart beat rapidly. He was approaching the boy’s side of the stage. 

After a small flourish of his hand, the Capitol rep stuck his hand into the glass, two papers in his hand before he dropped one. The dropped paper’s namesake got immensely lucky this year. 

“Harley Miggsen,” he read the paper, but before the peacekeepers had a shot at cornering the poor fourteen year old kid, with his eyes wide in horror, another voice spoke up. 

“I volunteer.” 

Your head snapped to Lukas, his hand raised high in the air. Murmurs started almost immediately about how everyone thought there weren’t any careers prepared. They spoke softly and wondered if there would be a career for the girls, too. Lukas isn’t a career, why would he do this?

“I… guess we have a volunteer,” the man at the mic clapped his hand, watching the young man getting ushered up the stairs to stand beside him on the stage. “What’s your name, son?” 

“Lukas Artanhour, sir.”

“Lukas Artanhour, everyone!” He raised his hand as to signal applause from the capitol guests, and they cheered, happy to see that there was now a potential victor as opposed to that poor boy from before. “Now for the ladies.”

You spared a glance at the victors once more, and they looked even more on edge for this pick than the last. Female victors were obviously more rare in every district, so getting a decent tribute that wouldn’t die right away was probably preferable. You couldn’t imagine all the people they’ve tried and failed to save over the years. The young man won only six years ago, but with no other victors since, that means he’s gone through twelve tributes. All dead, all gone. 

Your mind had been momentarily distracted, or at least it had been until the next name came over the loudspeakers. 

“Mercedes Blythe.” 

It almost didn’t register. 

It almost went in one ear and out the other.

It almost was paid no mind or attention…

But that is your name, and you’ve heard it said a million times since you were a baby. Not once did it ever sound like that, though. 

You stood still until you realized there were peacekeepers on their way to grab you. 

It was slow, the way you took steady steps from your row towards the stage. You couldn’t be rushed even if they tried to make you. You could only look at the ground. You didn’t want to chance looking up and seeing your mother past the blockades. God only knows what she’s thinking and feeling right now. After everything bad happens to a family, the mother of that family should not have to wonder whether her child will live or be killed in an arena. 

You finally looked up when you got to the stairs, meeting Lukas’ eyes first, and seeing they were sad and full of pity. You stood beside the Capitol rep on the other side, allowing him to raise your hands together while the tears finally welled up in your eyes. The delay in your mind was the only one to blame for that. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, district four’s tributes!”

-

Tags (open):

[onyourhyuck]

MIRACLES DO HAPPEN. | Mark Lee (M)

↳ Prologue: “I wanted a baby so freaking bad.” + “I know, i’m sorry.”

↳ summary: You and Mark have been trying to conceive for a year but have failed. Both of you are persistent to start a family together so you venture out into the world of IVF. You’re starting your miracle on Christmas Day.

↳ Warning: Angst fluff. Mention of mental health. Healthy relationships with up and downs. Domestic Husband Mark. Fem Reader. Pregnancy mention. Honestly cried while writing this. IVF process. Injections/Needles mention. Arguments.

↳ Note: KINKMAS FIC. My favourite YouTuber is getting an IVF journey and now I can’t stop with the angst, so I’m writing an IVF fanfic. The whole process is inspiration and really shows how women are so strong to go through this.

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Life doesn’t go the way you plan most of the time. It certainly didn’t go the way you have imagined your marriage with Mark, but neither of you cared anymore. You aren’t going to give up on having a baby. You want it and Mark wants it just as much as you do. It doesn’t matter how you get the baby anymore. You closed the natural process out. Simply getting pregnant the natural way wasn’t working out for you. Mark has tried his hardest with you last year, every single pregnancy test turned out negative. It was hard to get up the next day to take a new pregnancy test hoping it shows up with two lines with positive written in bold letters. Instead you never came to see those. No matter how many times you try, it never succeed.

It wasn’t only you who suffered great deal of damage physically and mentally stressing constantly about how you will conceive a child. Because it was all you ever wanted. A family. Start your own family. Have little mark or little y/n running about the house, Mark coming home and being greeted with a child or two. You making dinner with your children, growing older while you watch them grow and experience the life ahead of them. Mark wants that too, believe it or not he suffers just as much as you did. He’s frustrated with himself that he couldn’t bring you what you wanted. A sense of divine intervention was meant to be done here but he couldn’t of brought it into light. At some point last year his mentality spiralling down further and he lashed at you. Yelled at you. Mark never yelled at you once, for as long as you knew him he never once shouts at you or scolds you. But he did it when he was in this constant pain of seeing you and him lose each other. The pressure of getting you pregnant but never actually getting you pregnant made him feel as if he has fail you.

So when he had yelled at you that day, you broke down too. Yelling back at your husband , screaming out how it wasn’t his fault but yours. You felt guilty for making Mark feel this way. You were too absorbed in your own worrisome thoughts and paranoia to the point you completely forgot getting pregnant was a two way ticket. Not a lonely journey alone, but a duo teamwork; spiritually, mentally and physically.

That day. Mark swore to never yell at you again because the sight of you crying and hating yourself twice as much meekly pains him to the bones. He would rather have you hate him than hate yourself for something you cannot control. It was Mother Natures process and choice to make. Your husband suggested IVF and if that doesn’t work, adoption was the last bit on the list.

IVF was not a simple process whatsoever though. Many women have so much side effects it can take a toll on your mental health, change your physique as well as your personality might change drastically. But it is what you are willing to go through to get pregnant. You want to do this. The doctors told you to take three injections: one in the morning, one in the afternoon after lunch preferably and then at night.

You woke up with a groggy feeling laying on your abdomen. Rolling out of bed and turning the bedside lamp on, your husband tugs on your sultry silk sleeve pulling your back a nudge. He groans out, half asleep. “Baby, come back to bed.”

Your lips fell into a small smile before pointing your eyes at the clock on your table next to the double share bed. It was 6:30am. The exact time you’re supposed to be taking the injection. You stood up, “after the injection i will.”

Mark sits up humming. “I’ll inject you, is that okay?” He rubs back the bed hair, the soft fluff out black locks make your eyes waver at the sight. You nod, “alright come.” making your way inside the bathroom you sit on top of the toilet seat preparing yourself mentally by heavy exhale. You always hated needles. Hated the way it goes inside you with a pinch.

He comes in with the syringe with the liquid full of hormones. The first side effect you might notice on yourself would be nausea and weight gain. In fact the doctor made you purposely gain weight before injecting your stomach because it would make it easier to pierce in you. The fatter body you have the more chance of the IVF actually working. Mark slowly kneels on the bathroom floor in front of you with reassurance in his eyes, he rubs your legs comfortingly when he saw your teary eyes.

“Hey.” He speaks out to you in a soft spoken voice. “I will be here with you through this journey every step away. Don’t be scared.” He leans to lift your pyjama satin shirt revealing your stomach, you try your best to stay loosen avoiding to use your stomach core muscles. You need to be loose and prepared for the hormone to enter your body.

The needle perks on your skin slowly going in and deeper into you with the liquid slipping in. You weren’t aware of it until he pulls out the needle and quickly he shifts to put the cute watermelon bandaid on the area he injected it to stop the small blood coming out from the injection. You sigh out as your tears spill, your thoughts were coming back: ‘this wouldn’t of happened if i got pregnant naturally. The easy way.’ You realise this wasn’t the ideal situation for either of you.

Mark pulls you into an embrace murmuring praises hoping it might distract you from how overwhelming this actually is for your marriage as well as your families. “You’re so strong for this, Y/n. I’m so proud.” His hands rub your back in circular motions as you exhale a deep heavy breathing, trembling in his hold you sniffle.

“I wanted a baby so freaking bad.” Your voice trails in his shoulder resting there . Mark bites his bottom lip at your words, now his vision become blurry as he spews out tears. “I know, I am sorry.” He wanted a baby so freaking bad too. But he cannot breakdown with you, he has to support you too. Negativity won’t solve your problems, but perhaps Positivity might make a grave difference in your situation a lot more.

His apology couldn’t make you feel more tied down to guilt. It sent you at least twenty feet underground with the way his voice breaks down and cracks, trying to sound strong for you, but you could tell he was on his breaking point too.

Mark pulls away from the embrace holding your face with his palms, he pulls you into a loving kiss. He breaks it apart from your mouth and travels to peck your forehead after. “You’re going to be an amazing mother after the IVF is done.”

You let out a shy smile looking down. “You think so?” Mark brushed your hair back with the fingertips lightly. “I know so.”

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Christmas Day has come, and the clinic has called you for an important news to share with you and Mark containing about the IVF journey. You’ve done everything you were told but you now need to hear the final news if you’re pregnant or not.

Your families have gathered around your house for this Christmas and are settling outside hanging about together. You bring yourself in to the living room by the fireplace that was burning the charcoal, a large Christmas tree invading the corner with presents underneath still waiting to be opened. You sit down and Mark comes in soon enough with his phone in hand. He hands it to your palms with a half excited and nervous face.

“They’re calling.” Mark tells you.

Your hands press the green button and the clinical doctor on the line speaks, her voice breaks your mind into nothingness as if before you had no thoughts running even though you were praying like a mantra to god it is positive news something you want to hear ; same with mark. He has prayed before in the kitchen alone. Your families are here with you anticipating too.

“Hello I have some news to share… I want you to prepare for what I’m about to say.” Your doctor said to you both. Mark and you share a glance before humming in agreement.

“We’re ready.”

Your doubts were there, no denying about it. You had negative thoughts there in the back of your head. But you pushed them away staying hopeful for this journey because you haven’t put your blood sweat and tears in it for nothing. Mark and you haven’t got up everyday at 6:30 to inject you the next following days. It wouldn’t be for vain. Plus adoption was always an option next.

“Y/n Lee and Mark Lee…”

…

“Congratulations you are pregnant!”

You and Mark look at each other with wide eyes. In a sweep your husband has wrapped his hands on your waist lifting you into the air twirling your as if you were a bird dancing in the air, flying free, mark was laughing with tears brewing in the eyes, slipping you down back on your feet he had you freeze in your spot. Your lips fell into a line when he met your lips with his, kissing them gracefully and softly as if they were made of porcelain material. So fragile and delicate. He had his hands wrapping in your curls, letting them go as his fingertips trace your jawline and up cupping your cheeks with his warm hands. You close your eyes enjoying the loving scent of cinnamon in the air as well as the warm emitting from the fireplace. His soft lips radiating on yours, felt like heaven ascending you to higher realm.

You break apart with a breathy sight of happiness. You were happy, he was happy; hell you were more than happy. You felt an achievement. An long fulfilling wish become reality. A family with your lover, your true love, Mark, you can finally share a baby together.

Mark whispers to you. “ I’m still processing the fact that we are going to be parents after so long of trying. Endless fails until now.”

You close your eyes bringing your husband into an embrace where you bury your face in his shoulder lovingly holding each other by the Christmas tree behind your interlock bodies. “It doesn’t matter how many tries we did, Mark, as long as i have you and the baby i feel like we succeeded.”

“I love you, this is our miracle.” He smiles at your words brushing his hands behind your hair stroking it. You murmur. “I love you too.”

Miracles do happen.

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@onyourhyuck please refer from translating copyrighting and plagiarising my work thank you! REBLOG THIS POST TO SHOW LOVE AND FOLLOW ME FOR MORE FANFICS IF YOU ENJOYED<3

[belit0]

Hello!! I'd love to see Madara with a single mama. Baby could be hers and the dad died or poofed, or could be her friends passed and in their will they requested her to care for the baby. With Madaras temperament I think a little girl would be so perfect! She'd put flowers in his hair or share her bows and no one dares say A THING about it. Please and thank you!!

As soon as I received this request, I had to write it, because I love Madara's tender side (and having a break from nsfw things is also nice)!🤗💕

This ended up being way longer than I anticipated, I hope you like it!

(Y/N) finally realized the depth of her problems when she held her baby in her arms, the physical proof that things were not going to be easy at all. Of course, she adored her little girl, and after giving birth alone and unaided, without any support, she knew it would be the two of them against the world.

One night of passion and need turned into a lifelong contract with the one she now carries in her arms, and nine months of pregnancy were far from easy. (Y/N) only wanted to feel alive, experience some sort of sensation, and she made the mistake of getting involved with a man who was only interested in the bounty between her legs.

With no clan, no family, and no friends, she went through gestation on her own, until the physical changes in her body would no longer allow her to work. She couldn’t do anything to earn a living, resorting to begging for charity among the wealthy as her only source of income.

Childbirth was devastating and traumatic, full of uncertainty and terror. The pain was overriding, and (Y/N) had to sneak into an abandoned barn in order to give birth indoors. She didn't know if she or the baby would survive, pushing and struggling alone to finally meet the only bit of happiness in her life. After hours of suffering, hearing her daughter's cry gave her back her willpower, and she forgot all her negative thoughts.

It would be difficult, but the two of them would make it together.

(Y/N) found a new motivation in her little ray of sunshine, and fortunately, people were kinder when donating money because of the baby in her arms. For years, she managed to get by, doing her best to find shelter and food.

When her child was five years old, (Y/N) knew things had to change. Her daughter could not grow up on the streets, exposed to any person or factor that would harm her, and the woman became determined to find a permanent destination for them both.

She asked anyone who might be willing to talk to her about possible inexpensive and friendly places to go, and got information about a particular territory. The journey would be long and laborious, a month of walking at least, but as the person who gave her the information related, "Senjus are the most compassionate and empathetic clan in the whole world, if anyone will help you, it will be them."

Ignorant of the war and all the chaos surrounding that particular family, (Y/N) embarked on a journey to find them, praying the legends about the mighty Hashirama were true.

The first weeks passed without any problem, fifteen days of movement where she met people kind enough to give them both a hot meal and a place to spend a few nights. Her little girl resisted the adversities alongside her like a warrior and never stopped smiling. Her attitude helped (Y/N) stay afloat, fighting against life to reach their destination.

The last two weeks of the trip got chaotic, with hints of war along every road they traveled. Near Senju territory, all the houses seemed to be abandoned, and the territory completely destroyed. Trees had been reduced to ashes, residences collapsed, the skies were gray and filled with smoke.

It was a battlefield, and she walked into it without any qualms.

A feeling told her something was wrong, and her daughter refused to walk in those surroundings, demanding to be carried in her arms out of fear. After a few kilometers of walking, she realized she would find no shelter or help there, and decided to retrace her steps.

They would find a more promising route.

A strange sound sings on the horizon, and (Y/N) can see how the heavens turn red. Clouds seem to bleed, as hurricane-force winds wake up unprecedentedly from the ground. The panorama becomes apocalyptic, triggering panic and terror in the two of them. She hugs her little girl and crouches to the ground, trying to hide her face from such brutal and sudden weather.

Two groups of five people each approach from opposite sides, as if they are about to confront each other. A few meters away from her, they run at impossible speeds, and the attack swiftly begins. Fire and water fly everywhere, screams, and metal on metal.

Smoke and debris fly through the sky, landing near where (Y/N) is reduced. She knows they must flee, and her little girl's cries indicate urgency. She has to get them to safety right now, or something terrible could happen.

Quickly scanning her surroundings, she finds no place to hide, the ground crumbling to dust and ruins. Far from any structure that could shelter them and make them go unnoticed, (Y/N) squeezes her daughter tightly, and hopes those men are too intent on their battle to notice them.

She decides to run in the opposite direction of the battle, standing again on shaky legs and holding back tears. There is so much dust in the air it is impossible to see, and she keeps her child's face hidden in her chest for protection. Holding the infant with one arm, she covers her eyes with the other in an attempt to move forward.

While taking her first unsteady steps, there is an embracing heat coming towards them, feeling almost as if about to be burned alive. Everything happens so fast there is no time to react, instinctively acting. Her first impulse is to scream, clutching her little girl tightly and hoping to shield her from whatever might be happening.

An incredible explosion hits just a few meters from where she is standing, and the shockwave sends them both flying backward. In the air, (Y/N) continues to hold her daughter, an inexplicable force helping to keep her close to her. She has a few seconds to calculate how to position her body and be the one to hit the ground, but it never happens.

Before she can slam into anything, two large hands grab her under her legs and shoulder blades, holding them both and pulling them away from the floor. The event is sudden (Y/N) cannot comprehend what is happening, only seeing the face of a man both handsome and terrifying holding them in his arms, preventing them from falling to the ground.

(Y/N) feels the cold armor the man wears against her body, rising and falling with his agitated breathing. Long, frizzy black hair hides half of his face, and upon making eye contact, she is met with an unnaturally red eye.

At that moment, she falls prey to an overwhelming drowsiness, and can only think of her daughter as she falls asleep against her will.

......

"That was close, you know..." A male voice booms against her ears, as (Y/N) tries to gain order and command of her body. All her muscles feel exhausted as if she has gone days without moving. She struggles to open her eyes, but when she does, she finds a cozy room, lit only by candles.

A window indicates it is nighttime, and the mattress under her body feels comfortable and warm. Examining her surroundings, the woman notices she is lying on a large bed, and wearing clothes that are not hers.

"My daughter..." she whispers feebly, trying to sit up and get out of her comfortable rest. "Don't worry, she's fine. Last time I went to see her, Izuna was with her buying candy."

(Y/N) focuses her eyes on that disembodied voice, and is met with a heavenly image. A handsome man with prominent shoulders is sitting against the sliding door of the room, looking out into the starry night and admiring the view. He wears a yukata similar to the one she wears, but much bigger. Long black hair rains down his back, framing his defined jawline.

She might have blushed if finding her girl wasn't a priority, and the stranger seems aware of her urgency. "Izuna!" he shouts into the darkness of the night, and another man extremely similar to him immediately appears. In his arms, he carries the sleeping child, who embraces a bouquet of flowers and a small bag of candy.

"Ah... so she finally woke up. Does this mean our fun evenings are over?" the boy presumably named Izuna asks the sleeping toddler tenderly, as if she would answer. He gives the girl to the mysterious man, and carries her to (Y/N).

Hugging her daughter for the first time in what felt like years, she can't help the tears, kissing her head and remembering those events which brought them here. They both could have died in the middle of that battlefield, but life decided to give them more time.

Well, maybe not life, but that man.

"My name is Madara, and this is my younger brother Izuna... If I hadn't been there to deflect his attack, both of you would be charred right now." The younger man scratches the back of his neck guiltily, and sharing a glance with his older brother, leaves the room, disappearing back into the night.

"Of course, it was not purposeful... the colors you were wearing were easy to mistake for those of the enemy. My apology on behalf of us both." Madara analyses her from his position, arms crossed over his chest and a comprehending look. (Y/N) carefully deposits the small child on the bed, and cuddles her between covers for a peaceful sleep. She tries to get up, but her legs quickly give way under her, too weak to support her weight.

Before hitting the ground, Madara holds her, keeping her against his chest. He carries the woman to where he sat a few seconds ago, and takes a spot next to her. The night is beautiful, and a warm breeze is blowing in the garden, signaling wonderful weather. "Would you mind telling me your name?"

"(Y/N) ... I am (Y/N)." The place is exquisite, and the beautiful room she woke up in is nothing compared to her current view. All the clan's territory can be seen from her position, a million houses lit by fire.

"How long was I asleep...?"(Y/N) asks uncertainly. "About a week. We had to resort to the family healers for keeping you healthy. According to their professional prognosis, I was a bit aggressive with the Genjutsu I used on you."

"Gen...justu?" trying to understand the words and the situation, (Y/N) asks almost to herself, "I confirm you are not familiar with warfare in this territory...I assume you must have traveled from afar. What brought you here?"

"The legend about a wonderful clan and the promise of a good life..." There are tears in her eyes still, mentally going over all the troubles and the terrible experiences lived.

"Hm... that must be regarding Hashirama... Well, (Y/N), we may not be the Senjus, but life here is delightful and comfortable. You are invited to stay as long as you wish... Personally, I recommend not leaving anytime soon, Izuna is too fond of that child to allow it."

Madara stands and smiles at her, before disappearing into the darkness of the night like his younger brother.

........

It's been months since their accidental arrival at the Uchiha compound, but as Madara commented on their first night, life here is nice and beautiful.

(Y/N) found a stable place to live, friends to share with, and a promising future for her little girl. The child begged her mother to allow Izuna to train her, and she started developing in the ninja arts.

She learned a lot about the clan and the family, about their standards and ways of living. Madara did not disclose being the leader of it until a few weeks after she awoke, trying to help her adapt as best as possible and not intimidate her with his position. She understood the importance of the Uchiha family and the power Madara carries within, profoundly respecting him.

The two became extremely close, almost to an intimate point.

The Uchiha adores her little girl, and (Y/N) admits embracing him as a father figure every time she witnesses how the young child fills his hair with flowers or paints his lips bright red. Who would have thought one of the strongest men in the world could have such a soft and tender side for them both?

Seeing the leader of the family stroll around the compound decorated by her daughter was definitely a wonderful scene, especially as no one dared to comment on it, except Izuna. His younger brother was dedicated to teasing him from the first time it happened, until he fell victim to those little hands himself, and had to walk around full of flowers and paint in front of everyone.

Madara was right... they might not be the Senjus, but they were even better.