#so then I figured out I had this magical ability to actually read words and absorb nothing from them

[theres-whump-in-that-nebula]

I just realized that I hate being directly talked to (in most situations); but if someone is talking to their friend at the same table as I am, and we’re all working on separate projects, I love listening to their conversation? Like, in art class these two gamer kids would go on and on about Sonic and Overwatch to each other and it was amazing; because I like reading Wikipedia articles on things I have no personal interest in just to know what it is enough to talk about it if someone brings it up in conversation.

Call that benign eavesdropping.

[randomshyperson]

Teddy Pickers - Heart Shaped Series

Chapter Summary: In the rare quiet time in the lives of fugitives, you and Wanda play a game of questions. It's like that old saying: There's always a peaceful period before the storm. Or could it be that this time, the storm has already passed?

Warnings: (+18), soft and almost entirely a smut chapter, making out, dirty talking but they are actually just playful and dorky with each other, more shapeshifting stuff, hints of PTSD and trauma talk, some self-doubt from both, mainly fluff and hurt/comfort | Words: 4.845k

A/N-> So I had two chapters ready but I hated them. I had to rewrite the whole thing because I was unsure where to take this story. I'm all on my supercorp era again and I was taking this to a very angsty line and I don't want that. So I changed and gave them peace and quiet instead. Also, I can't wait to write jealous hormonal mess Wanda in the next chapters! A good reading for you all!

General Masterlist | Wattpad | AO3 | Series Masterlist

-&-

You woke up to her nightmares.

Still groggy from sleep, you rubbed your eyes and forced your body to react to the figure murmuring softly beside you, her face contorted in discomfort. At some point during the night, Wanda let go of you, snatched almost the entire comforter, and then began to dream.

And apparently, it wasn't a good one. It surprised you a little that you were affected by it, but you made a mental note of Wanda's impressive ability to emit a magical aura even in her sleep. That might explain why her room was set apart from the others in the tower.

Your touch was gentle on her face, and you called her softly until you woke her up. Wanda jumped a little, opening red, frightened irises until she realized she was just having a bad dream. She barely recognized your presence, and already pressed her face into your collarbone, breathing deeply against your skin.

"Are you all right, my love?" You asked after a moment, stroking her hair as her breathing returned to normal.

Wanda sniffled, and your heart broke. Your reaction was to look for her eyes, to reassure her, but she wrapped her arms tightly around you and wouldn't let you move away.

You sighed before adding: "It was just a bad dream, my little witch."

But Wanda sniffles again, this time pressing her face into your chest so that she can speak.

"It wasn't just a dream." She mumbles upset. "I was remembering... Pietro."

A lump forms in your throat. You swallow. "Oh, Wanda... I'm so sorry."

"It's all right." She hits back immediately, without moving a muscle. She continues to hold you as if she feels you'll disappear if she lets go. "It's been a while since I thought about that day. I didn't mean to disturb you."

"You certainly shouldn't worry about how I'm going to feel about this." You retort firmly. "He's your brother. You can cry all you want. I'll be here to hold you."

The words make her shift immediately and press her face against your body where you can feel new tears wetting your pajamas. But Wanda doesn't cry for long - she falls asleep again, her limbs locked tightly around you, and even though the position gets a little uncomfortable after a while, you don't have the heart to push her away. Especially since, after a while, her nightmares return and the magical aura is strong enough for the memories of the past to shine through your eyes.

You sigh, adjusting yourself to kiss the top of her head and settling her so that she's completely asleep on your body - which changes a little, growing just enough for Wanda to have all the soft hold she needs. She smiles unconsciously, tightening her embrace before falling back into a deep sleep. With the softness of her expression, you are reassured to know that the nightmares are gone, at least for the moment.

You try to fall asleep, but your ear picks up the soft vibration of your work cell phone in your jacket pocket hanging from the chair in the bedroom. Your body tenses during every ring, until it finally relaxes when the device goes silent. 

Work is calling, you know. Just as you know you can't run away forever.

Hours later when you wake again, it’s for rays of sunshine slipping the curtains and chaste kisses on your collarbone. You smile immediately.

"Morning, little witch." Your sleepy voice makes Wanda raise her eyes to you, her lips never leaving your skin. The soft scratch of her nails on your stomach makes your muscles twitch. "You're up to mischief, I see."

Your teasing makes her chuckle hoarsely, her hands climbing further up your pajama top and exposing your torso almost completely.

But instead of starting another trail of kisses, she sat up straight against your hip and waited for you to open your eyes.

"You change in your sleep." She declares as you stare at her, still awake. "Did you know that?"

You nod, and Wanda raises a curious eyebrow. She has a joke on the tip of her tongue about how the hell you knew something if you were asleep when you explain; 

"I used to be monitored twenty-four hours a day when I was a child. To prevent any minor detail from slipping through the records and interfering with the research."

Wanda bites the inside of her cheek, absorbing your confession for a second. She could count on her fingers the few times you had mentioned some random detail about your life before, and it took her by surprise. Almost everything she knew came from the Avengers' archives and carried technical and military analysis. She heard very little from your mouth.

"You never talk about your past." That's what she manages to answer because it's a fact. 

You offer her a small smile, your hands moving to reach her thighs on either side of your hips. 

"What would you like to know?"

Wanda sighs, her hands resting on your shoulders. "I'll listen to anything you want to tell me."

Your smile is tender, almost shy. Wanda likes it when she makes you blush, especially since you have the ability to conceal these reactions from her, changing and commanding your body according to your wishes. Even though you don't do it so often because you trust her.

What a thing. One of the world's greatest criminals blindly trusting an Avenger. She could actually feel very cocky about it.

"I have an idea." You then declare, your fingers playing with the edges of her shorts. Wanda stares at you expectantly, but you almost lose your train of thought at how deliciously beautiful she now looks. The slightly tousled hair, and well, the legs around you, and eyes that beg for everything but conversation. "Let's play a game."

"What kind of game?"

"A game of questions, of course." You retort good-humoredly, adjusting yourself a little to sit up straight. Wanda lets her hands fall to your lap. "Two truths and a lie. Traumatic childhood edition."

Wanda lets out a giggle, pinching you gently for the derogatory joke. You just smile at her, almost completely distracted by the sound of her laughter and the comforting feeling that moment brings to your chest.

"I've never played that one." She says after a moment. "What are the rules?"

"It's very simple. Each person states three facts, but one of them is false. You have to find out which one. The winner is whoever gets it right the most times, although I've just realized that playing something like that with a telepath isn't very fair." Wanda slaps you in a joking manner at the insinuation that she was going to cheat, getting a chuckle from you.

"I'll start then." She then states, assuming a thoughtful expression for a moment. You bite the inside of your cheek, resisting the urge to kiss her cute face and pay attention to the game. "With respect to the theme you've chosen, I grew up in a two-room apartment in the Sokovian countryside. When I was little, I could play the piano. And... I love to cook."

You hum thoughtfully, loosening your grip so that one of your hands goes to your chin. The whole theatrical expression makes Wanda giggle, her cheeks flushing with the way her stomach feels full of butterflies. 

"I say the first one's a lie."

She raises an eyebrow. "Really? Why?"

Your expression changes to one of almost conviction. "Because you grew up in Novi Grad, the Sokovian capital, and not in the countryside. And I have to say, it's very bold of you to assume that I haven't done my homework on you, Wanda Maximoff."

Wanda feels a wave of warmth hit her body and spread with your words. Or perhaps, the way your eyes shine in a way that hides meaning. She allows herself to imagine for a moment your figure in the same clothes you wore when she first met you, frantically going through files at night to learn everything you could learn about her.

It reminds her a little of herself, days after your first encounter, how even though Wanda tried to be as secretive as possible, casually asking about missions in which you faced the Avengers, or reviewing mission files on the pretext that she was studying, Natasha realized what she was doing right away.

Clearing her throat, Wanda looked down, a little embarrassed. "I did the same. With-for you, I mean."

 You smiled, looking at her with an almost impressed expression. "Oh, really? I'm flattered."

"Shut up." She giggles shyly in response, but you, despite chuckling too, insist more firmly;

"No, really. I think it’s quite romantic."

Wanda frowns slightly. "What, being obsessed with each other?"

"Yes." 

"You have problems." She retorts in a false seriousness that makes you smile before Wanda swallows dryly at the way your gaze is focused intensely in her direction. The tension that rises is almost too much for her to be able to say anything else. Yet, she tries with a husky voice. "You got it right. The game, I say."

You nod, smiling. Your open palms on her thighs go up inside her shorts, and Wanda holds her breath for a second. But they only serve to make a gentle lever and pull Wanda closer by her ass, and she bites her lips at the new position, very aware of the warmth on her cheeks and neck.

"My three facts are as follows, Maximoff." You begin, your dark gaze on her previously bitten lips for a moment before focusing on her eyes again. "I was a laboratory experiment all through my childhood. I really like you." Wanda smiles, scrunching her nose adorably. You get momentarily distracted, gaze falling to her lips again. She catches your eyes, a smirk cracking on her mouth when she leans in, subtly asking you to break the distance. End the game. When you manage to talk again, your voice is barely a whisper; “I’m allergic to peanuts.”

She chuckles, arms interlocking behind your head. Wanda mutters a joke, something about keeping an eye for the food, but you firm your hands on her thighs and bring her closer to press your mouths together. It’s a hot kiss - charged with all of your naughty intentions. She lets out a soft moan when your tongue slides on hers, slow and sensual. But suddenly, Wanda breaks the kiss with flushed cheeks and a curious gaze on her eyes.

“Wait!” She asks breathlessly, to which you stare equally affected but expectant. “Your file did have peanuts listed as allergy.”

Damn, you thought you could win that one. A little grin starts to form on your lips, but Wanda narrows her eyes in your direction.

“Someone really did her homework on me, I see.” You tease, leaning in to go back to kissing her, but she evades your attempt, eyes shining a little dangerously.

“If the food was not the lie, and I know for a fact that you were an experience most of your life… Then the lie-” You wanted to laugh at the hidden panic hidden behind her eyes. Honestly, this woman.

What was she even thinking? That you would let her down in some game while having her on your lap? Hours after telling her that you love her?

It should be a hint enough that you’re smiling, for Wanda to realize there’s a joke there. But somehow, she grows more insecure. Her eyes flash red for a moment before and it’s a clear warning.

You just chuckle. “It’s all about semantics, darling.” You explain because it looks like Wanda might cut your head off if you don’t clarify exactly what lie you told. “I don’t just like you. We’re not in middle school. I love you, remember?”

The tension visually leaves her shoulders, but something else happens. Her cheeks and ears grow hotter and Wanda is once more a flustered mess, feeling pretty much like a shy middle schooler because you’re talking about feelings.

You think she’s beautiful, so you tell her that too. “God, you’re beautiful.”

She giggles coyly, kissing you because that’s all she can do without making a fool of herself. Well, if you keep rubbing her thighs under her shorts like that, she’ll probably make a fool of herself anyway, considering how she gets patheticly overwhelmed whenever you touch her.

For a while, you just made out. Slowly and passionately with wandering hands and panting kisses. It’s just nice to feel each other, to hold each other. It’s also very hot to feel Wanda rubbing herself on your lap until the soft friction is not enough.

She bites your lip when that happens, her hips more impatient and frantic against your thigh. All you can do in return is firm your hands on her waist, helping her get what she wants, what she needs. And Wanda stops kissing you because all she can do is moan in return for the time being, quite aware of the wetness dripping down her shorts.

She starts whining into your mouth when she’s close, and it’s too much for you - How can Wanda expects you not to fuck her properly when she’s doing that? - Your hands flip her over in a heartbeat. She barely has time to protest for the interruption of her previous, and desperate motions, when you’re all over her. Groping your way into her clothes, tearing it apart, and taking more eager sounds from her throat.

And Wanda, she’s such a tease. Dark dilated eyes shining with mischief and begging you to just fuck her. The way she lets you strip her out of her clothes, and how she slightly opens her legs, rubbing her ankles behind your kees, inviting you to just-

“Fuck.” You pant for the image in front of you. Wanda bites her lips, one of her hands finding its way to her soft breasts, fingers teasing the hard nipple like she doesn’t mind the slightest that you could lose your sanity to such a sinful gesture.

But Wanda is getting impatient too. The hot knot on her belly is making her dizzy. You’re making her dizzy.

“Need you so bad, detka.” She meowed, her hips arching into the air, allowing you a clear view of her drenched pussy. You can see how wet she is, smell it, yet, a true confirmation only comes when you use one of your hands to press her back into the bed while your free fingers find her warm entrance. Wanda cries out when you enter her, but she’s so hot and so tight, that you have to pull out before pushing two fingers in again and again, stretching her out while she struggles to breathe. Her thigh muscles twitch when your thumb finds her clit, every drawn circle against the hardened bud rips a new throaty moan out of her. 

When she’s close again, impossibly tightly against your fingertips, throbbing, you hum pleasantly, your free hand gripping her waist to take control of her uncoordinated movements. Wanda cries out when you force her into your fingers, reaching deeper now and too good for her to hold back, so the hot knot on her belly explodes without warning and she arches her back, twitching and choking on a moan before going limb on the mattress. You keep fingering her gently, prolonging her orgasm until she complains about the overstimulation with a tug on your wrist. 

You pull your fingers out but not kiss her as she would wish - Instead, you lean down and her dizzy expression falters into a gasp when your mouth finds her cunt, tongue licking every drop of cum you just manage to get. Her natural reaction is to back away, she’s sensitive. But you grab her thighs, find your place between her legs, and start to eat her out like you’re starving. 

“Oh God…fuck-” Her choked moaning mixing in English and Sokovian is music to your ears. Her eyes close on instic, because it’s too much and somehow not enough - Your tongue is teasing her, playing with her clit but not using the necessary pressure she needs. She just came and you barely started and Wanda is ready for more, painting for more.  One of her hands finds your hair, a strong grip that works like a warning. Yet, she says or at least tries to, since it sounds a lot more like a whine than anything else: “Stop teasing.”

To be fair, she could probably ask you anything at any time, especially now. While dripping so sweetly into your tongue, clenching and begging for more. You hum accordingly, ending your tease when sucking on her clit. Wanda screams. Loud enough for other people to hear, that’s for sure, but none of you cares about that. Not now, probably not never.

She can’t hold longer after that, not when you’re doing everything to get another climax out of her, fingers finding her pussy again to help your tongue. It’s so messy and sloppy and nearly desperate. Your own underwear has been bothering you for a while now and Wanda crying out your name is definitely not helping with that.

It’s not a surprise that when she comes, the room shudders a little. Wanda’s not being careful, she’s too gone for that now. Little were the times when she didn’t, couldn’t, hold back herself, her magic. The energy flows to her veins like the heat spreading under her skin when she orgasms and it’s breathtaking and overwhelming and she’s coming so hard that she can’t hold anything back. A wave of warm magic explodes around, her red irises open like her mouth in a silent scream, and it’s beautiful. Wanda is perfect, and she’s all yours. 

She only realizes she ripped the sheets when you move back to her and the bed makes a noise that forces her to notice the room. Such a mess she made. Someone will have to pay for bedroom fixing.

“Enjoying yourself, aren’t you witchy?” You tease fondly about the whole setting, the new crack on the window, the little sparks of her magic that still flow around. Wanda sighs satisfied, her hands finding your face when you’re close enough. When she kisses you, her taste is there and she can only moan at the dirty of that act, how you suck her tongue like you’ve sucked her clit a few minutes ago. 

Wanda doesn’t break the kiss to move her hands lower, groping your still-dressed figure and only now realizing how that is actually torturous.

“Hmm, I’ve been so selfish, milyy (darling). You must be needing me as well.” She mutters between one kiss and another, and you’re almost so distracted by her new dominance over you that you barely notice her hands. Barely. You follow her lead, resting your back on the bed so Wanda can hover over your body. Her fingers move under your shirt, scratching the skin and giving her a nice time feeling you twitch. The way she looks at you is also a lot to handle without shaking.

Suddenly, Wanda pants, eyes diverting to your chest. “Oh, hello you two”. She doesn’t mind your shyness, shamelessly groping your boobs under your shirt. “I missed those.”

You chuckle out of breath, pulling your shirt off while Wanda just stares and plays with them. “I can’t believe you just talked to my boobs.”

She squeezes, pulling the tip until it’s hard under her touch. You bite your lips, to keep your sound under control but you can feel a new wave of warm wetness spreading towards your lower belly. 

“Well, I’ve missed them. It’s been a while, since, you know, you actually had those two.” She so casually talking about it, it’s not that you mind that, but she’s also touching and squeezing them and you’re way too horny to have a conversation.

With very warm cheeks, you try to anyway; “Hm, they usually stay in the way of the job.” Wanda leans down, forcing her head between your breasts, muttering something like so soft and she’s such a dork that you have to chuckle. “It’s just extra work to find the right clothes and then changing every time I need a new face and matching body.”

Despite her clearly interest in your chest, Wanda is listening as she lets you know with a hum of knowledge. But then her mouth envelops one of them and it’s just too much for you to focus on anything else but the feeling of her tongue. You pant to the ceiling, shaky fingers gripping her hair, telling her to keep going but Wanda is such a teasing brat. There’s a small ‘pop’ sound when her mouth lets go, and a trace of saliva still connects your nipple to her lips before Wanda goes for the other one. You squirm a little under her, blushing intensely because she’s such a tease and apparently wants you to beg for it. 

She takes no pity on the ache between your legs; When her mouth leaves your breast again, she has this mischievous sparkle in her eyes that makes you gulp.

“I think I’m a little obsessed with them.” She tells you, giving your tits another squeeze, a little harder this time.

You gasp. “You think?”

“Huh-huh.” She replies, nodding. “You had it on your first night together. Then never again until today. It’s because you miss me sucking them, malysh (baby)?”

You roll your eyes at the words, teasing words evidently. The little cocky smirk that almost makes you go back to being the one in charge. To be completely honest, Wanda was always the one in charge. Even when she allows you to be on top. 

“You’re mistaken, Maximoff.” You retort her while giving her a gentle tug on her thighs, to bring her closer because you really need some kind of pressure between your legs. Wanda doesn’t have to be a mind reader to get the hint - Her knee finds your middle as she straddles your thigh, and she doesn't mind hiding her grin at how you let out an affected sigh at that. “I also had them when I first met you.”

She frowns a little, scrunching her nose in a thoughtful way. You are about to clarify when her knee moves away for her hand to take the spot. And well, you can’t think of saying anything, coherent at least, with Wanda finger’s filling you up so nicely. She seems to be enjoying herself as well - Watching attentively at every strangled noise that escapes you with the consistent pace inside you.

But suddenly as if remembering your previous words, she gaps: “Oh my god, you’re right!” She says, somehow her excitement brings her deeper inside of you. All you can give her as a response is a whine. “You were pretending to be one of the gala’s hosts right? The.. damn, i can’t remember his name-”

“W-wanda..” You meowls, the heat is too much. The way she just keeps pumping in and out of you, and talking about something else as if turning you into a whining mess is nothing, actually makes you throb. 

Wanda just smiles, ignoring your protest to the conversation and quite satisfied with the growing wetness she can feel on her fingertips. “Oh, I remember it now. The host only had daughters, so you did your part. Also one of the few times I saw you in a dress, baby. And what a view that was.” She leans in, whispering soft praises into your ear while you struggle to breathe. It takes you over the edge quickly, and Wanda is rewarded with the sweetest whimper once the knot in your belly explodes - One of your hands grabs her wrist, to keep her there as if she ever thought of leaving. Your hips jerk a few times as you ride the last waves of your climax and Wanda watches all of it, as breathless as you, truly mesmerized by the scene.

When you can breathe again, there are green irises staring at you with adoration. “Hi.”

“Hi you.” It’s your tender reply, and when Wanda leans in to kiss your lips, she can feel your smile. One of your hands moves to her face, gently caressing her skin. Once the kiss is broken, you talk first. “I love you, Wanda.”

You sound so vulnerable, so true, that she swallows. Her gaze focused on your eyes. It’s almost like there’s more to add, at the same time, as if the confession meant even more than just caring about someone. Wanda remembers the first time you said, how you mentioned that she was the first person you ever said that to, and somehow she understands it that it meant that you trusted her very deeply. She bites her lips, withdrawing her fingers from you. She doesn’t miss the soft sigh that escapes you, but she says nothing to that. Wanda is busy taking your wetness to her mouth and sucking her fingers clean. The image is enough to bring not only a strong color to your cheeks but a dark shine to your eyes.

You are ready to break the distance again when knocks on the door break the bubble you two are in completely.

And Captain Rogers's voice from the outside of the room kind of breaks the mood entirely. 

“Hello? I’m… sorry to interrupt. I just need a word. With everyone. Please, huh, join us downstairs?” You and Wanda hide your giggles - The Captain was obviously flustered to call you two, especially judging by the noises Wanda didn’t mind to restrain, probably everybody knew what you two were up to. And it was definitely Natasha’s idea that he was the one who called; the widow was having some fun with her friend's clumsiness.

Wanda cleared her throat, unwillingly taking her attention from you to the door. “We’ll be right out, Steve.”

Once the sound of his footsteps became more distant, Wanda kissed you again. She seemed determined not to move away from you.

-&-

Sergeant Barnes was in Wakanda, undergoing recovery.

When Steve mentioned the country, he looked directly at you, and that was enough for you to know that whatever the king had told him about your adventures there, the captain was on the monarch's side. Not that it mattered all that much.

Consciously or not, while Steve was updating the team, you discreetly scratched the scar you received the last time you were there. If you concentrated, you could remember exactly how painful it was to receive the Wakandian words for thief on your skin.

And seeing the heroes of Earth around you, with inside jokes and personal stories, made you feel very out of place. As if they too could see the scar, even if it was covered by an oversized sweatshirt now.

You swallowed dry and took advantage of the fact that Natasha was finally telling everyone what had kept her busy for the first few weeks on the run, to slip away towards a snack machine.

Wanda followed you with her eyes, aware of all your reactions to the conversations. She just wanted you to feel at ease with the others too, but she knew the opposite feeling well. She was once new to the presence of the Avengers, and they could be rather intimidating. Even the friendliest of them. Maybe it was a superhero thing.

You were deciding between the first and third row when Natasha caught Wanda's eye again. She wanted the witch to be paying attention to the conversation, it seemed important.

The widow took a deep breath. "I never told any of you this, because I thought it was in the past. But... I have a sister. Her name is Yelena Belova and-"

But the news and the shock had to be left for later. A bang from the other side of the common area interrupted Nat's story, and the whole team stood up.

You had just shoved a person hard enough to break the glass of the snack machine. But the attacker's exclamation of pain made you let go immediately.

The masked figure pushed you back harshly, but you laughed in amazement. 

"You weren't supposed to make a scene, you idiot." Complained the woman, massaging her sore shoulder due to the impact. She barely had time to regain her balance and half the Avengers were in fighting position, one particular witch making her take a step back, hiding in your protection.

You acted quickly, gesturing to the heroes to stand down, before throwing one of your arms under the smaller one shoulder.

"Relax, everything's fine!" You declared happily. You tugged at the combat mask she was wearing, revealing the unknown woman's face, which caused her to elbow you, which you ignored. "Meet Layla El-Faouly, my business partner."

The curly-haired woman forced a smile and waved. Wanda was the last of the team to drop her attack position.

-&-

A/F/N-> If you haven't watched Moonknight, please do. Layla El-Faouly is simply incredible. I can't give away too many spoilers for those who haven't seen it, but she's also a thief and a really skilled one. It would be a waste to have an international thief reader who didn't know her.

[goldsbitch]

Right?

summary: Y/N is a photographer for McLaren F1 team. Hard working, goal oriented professional who would never put her career in jeopardy for some stupid crush, right?

That is until a photoshoot gets out of hand and there is no way to go but forward.

warning: swear words, male x female, angst

part 2

______________________________________________________________

You're a professional. Right? Always been, proud of your hard work and strong will. If you want something, you go and get it.

It's by no chance that you're standing exactly here - in the McLaren F1 paddock, in the middle of buzzing neatly organized and timed chaos prior to the start of the race. "Read the grid, feel the paddock" was a line burned to your memory by your first boss, now the Media head of Redbull. You've learned what each and every one of the people do, what their job entails, because one day, one day you want to be more than a photographer for the team's social media.

You're a professional. Had a dream and went for it, no matter the sacrifice or long hours. Always on the road, detached from your peers. Because your heart beats for this.

You'd never do anything to compromise your job. Right?

The hardest part to ignore is his scent. You can evert your eyes when he walks to the room like he owns it - and one would say he actually does, he is the team's no. 1 driver for god sake. His voice can almost be blocked out by focusing on a conversation with a different person or headphones if the situation allows. But his scent seems specifically tailored to messing with your ability to focus, so much sothat you've considered wearing a mask and pretending to be a super freak about germs.

Ironically, scents are hard to recall. And you would know, you've tried several times on lonely nights in hotel rooms, with the goal to make you finish just a little bit faster. A moment you'd really love to forget is standing in a perfume shop trying to figure out what is that magical formula. Because it can't be due to the fact that he is wearing it. Right?

However hard it is for you on the inside, one would never know of your tiny little crush from the outside. Always keeping it casual, with every photoshoot staying professional and holding it together.

It was Lando who had the idea to do more of an intimate (his words, not yours) photoshoot than usually, to spice up the feed, as he bluntly said during a casual PR catch up. This was the reason why you were standing here. In the middle of the forest, alone with a big camera and one light for the subject in question, your biggest crush in history. You were sure he was having a great time putting you outside your comfort zone, the cheeky fuck he was. But then again, he probably really did not give a shit.

"I can't focus if you'll keep looking at me like that," Lando stated like a spoiled child.

"Come again?" you asked, geniuenly confused.

He jumped around few times, as if he was about to run a marathon. "Show a little enthusiam, why so bleh today?"

"You're right, my mind went somewhere else."

"Oh, am I boring you? Well, that's bad. We should be promoting my merch here, but even the person paid to be here can't seem to be bothered!" His tone changed. He raised his eyebrows, challenging you to up your game.

You're a professional. No doubt about that.

Focus, get your head back. Your energy boosted up again, here we go! "Ok, Norris, back to work!" You're well aware that a great photo comes from the subjects ability to connect with the photographer. "You're right, this isn't working. Let's get into the car."

You both left the random wood spot and returned to his sports car that brought you here. "Sit on the driver's seat" you instructed.

"Oh, as if there is a different way this would go down."

"Come on, let's drive around. And be fast," not sure if you were incouraging him or yourself.

"Like the sound of that. Buckle up, otherwise you'll have blurry photos."

And with that he reversed back on the main road.

After about 15 minutes of driving back and forth with a casual drift on the turns, getting pictures of him driving in his new jacket and shades, the adrenaline levels were pretty up in both of you.

"Parked it up here" you instructed again, having him stop on a hill with a view on a city lights in the background. "These are amazing!" you said after a brief look on the photos.

Lando was curious as ever. "Show me!"

"No, you'll see them on the right time. Do you trust me?"

He licked his lips. "Surprise me?"

"Lean back."

You really got into the zone, already super excited for the pictures. They had everything, interesting lighting, composition and Lando was doing an exceptional job with his smiles. However, you knew it could give more.

"This is great Lando, truly great job! But let's do more and push it further, you ok?"

"Just tell me what to do." He looked like he was really enjoying the attention, but you tried to block any of these thoughts out.

"One thing photographers recommend is for the model to try and look into the lens as if you want to seduce it, capture those looking at the picture...It's for making models less focused on the camera and being more attractive..."

Lando pulled out his best smirk yet. "Oh, I'm not attractive enough to be your model now?"

"Come on. You know what I mean."

"Nah, I don't," he lied. "Elaborate, I'm just a simple driver."

Now you were getting annoyed. "Just imagine the lens is someone you want to, em, who you would like to"

"-Fuck?"

"Yes."

"As you wish." And as you asked he did.

He probably did it without much of a thought, but you were perfectly aware of how he fixed his posture, opened his lips a bit, moved his and got this look on as if he wanted to eat you - in the best way possible. This got you in the zone, striking one photo after another, moving your camera and getting closer to get the details, completely forgetting you were both there to shoot his new merch.

Battery low. You would have cursed yourself in that moment. Only you hardly had a second to think about this. When you put your camera down, you realized the nonexistent proximity between you and Lando. You were sitting above him on the back seat with him staring up to you.

You froze for a moment, knowing there is no battery left in the bag.

"Well that is us done for today," you focused on the camera. How on Earth can you be so stupid.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah." You suddenly realized you were way, way to close to Lando. The damn scent, again.

"Damn, I like these kinds of photoshoots."

"Uhm, yeah." You did not want to move, but it was becoming socially unacceptable for you to be sitting on him for this long.

"Have you done this with Oscar?"

It's hard for you not to laugh at that thought. Every photoshoot with Oscar was a nightmare with the atmoshephere being so dry that everyone with an inch of taste had to tell from the photos immediately.

"Not yet," you said trying to preserve the facade. " But if these work out and the team likes them, we might recreate this with him?"

As if that was even remotely possible. You should move now. Why isn't he moving?

"Shame, thought it was our thing," his voice was becoming more raspy with every sentence.

And with that - you lost it.

"You still have the look." How is this sentence coming out of your mouth?

"What look?" he said, moving even closer to you.

"The models look."

"Remind me which one."

"The "Fuck Me Look"...But I'm not taking photos anymore."

"Interesting."

"Why?" You stopped breathing a while ago.

"Because I think you have it too."

part 2

[lani-heart]

|| series masterlist || next // previously

parings -> ( eventually ) enhypen x reader genre -> soulmate au, fantasy au, angst warnings -> angst, rejection word count -> 2.1k

abstract -> my soul was always yours... im sorry it took this long

flashback – heeseung’s perspective

“But I don’t want to go,” I told my sister. She sighed and continued to fix my hair for this stupid day. “Come on, maybe you’ll find friends,” she said with a grin and I scoffed. “This is different from you, you actually found friends” I whined and I knew she was already worried but I dreaded having to go to a new school. 

“Heeseung, be brave for me okay?” she said and I rolled my eyes but agreed. I held her hand tightly as I saw the school in front of us. 

Belift Boarding School for Young Witches. 

“You’ll pick me up, right?” I asked and she smiled. “I’ll be right here to hear how your day went little brother,” she said as I waved her goodbye. I hated the thought of starting a new school. 

Only for the kids to treat me like an idiot, a monster, anything but human. I wanted to find Jungwon and Sunoo… but I didn’t know if they were incarnated again. Or the other boys… maybe even Sooha. Anyone to make me feel less alone. 

This is a stupid school, filled with idiots!

The orphanage just had to make me go here. It's dumb. Filled with kids who don’t even know simple magic, what is this school?! Then again… noona would just say it's because I have my memories of past lives that I know about my abilities. 

“Hey! That’s mine!” I heard and I noticed the mean kids didn’t target me… maybe cause I was placed as a top student when the school tested me. No one wants to bully a kid who knows more magic than them… maybe it's better I went to an all-witches school this time around.

I wouldn’t have vampires or werewolves messing with me. 

The group of boys threw her books out of the window and I scoffed. “Oops! Sorry y/n!” they said and laughed but she didn’t cry nor yell at them to stop. Instead, she looked angry. 

I was going to help her but… I laughed. 

It seemed that they all now looked at me confused. “What are you laughing at!?” they yelled and I couldn’t stop. “Maybe… look in a mirror!” I said, trying to stop. She must've done a basic spell to do that… she gave them weirdly colored hair. One had a giraffe pattern, the other a zebra, and their leader a cow. 

It looked funny on them. They all looked at each other and argued. They didn’t even notice the girl scoff and walk towards me. 

“You could’ve let them figure it out,” she said and I chuckled. “Sorry to take away your surprise, but want help finding your books?” I asked and she smiled. “Please?” she asked and I swear I fell in love at the very moment. Her smile and shining eyes…

“I’m y/n by the way… what’s your name?”

Twas the night before the masquerade. 

“I wrote her the best card!” Sunoo praised as he tied his bow tie. “In your dreams! She’s gonna choose me to be her date!” Jake said and I laughed. “How bad was your writing on that card?” I said and everyone laughed. “Hey! That doesn’t matter!” he said and I chuckled.

“Heeseung-hyung… do you know who she chose?” Jungwon asked and I smiled. “Who knows?” I said and they groaned. I left first wandering outside… 

Why was I nervous? 

If I was being honest with myself I didn’t let myself read her mind. A part of me begged for her to choose me… despite how selfish I've been. 

In my confession, I asked her to meet me in the back of the school at the flower field. Each minute went by that I wanted to turn back… I know that she was sure her card was from Sunoo. So why was I still–

“Heeseung?” I heard and I felt like I was alive again. The feeling like throwing up, the anxiety, the cold sweat… I turned to see her in a beautiful dress, dolled up and everything. 

“You’re the one who sent this?” she asked, confused and I gave her a nervous smile. 

“Will you let me explain everything?”

y/n’s perspective

I sat down wanting to at least hear him out. I guess I did choose one of my soulmates… just not the one who–

“I never wanted to reject you,” he said… Did I mishear him? “When I saw you again I… felt alive, like there's a heartbeat in my chest. You make me just as nervous though…” he said and I was confused. 

This wasn’t the Heeseung I knew– 

“I’m not… you met Heeseung. The vampire, the one who in his past life was devoted to a princess… but a long time ago you met Evan” he said and I felt my eyes widen. 

Evan?

“Pathetic right? I gave you my English name and lied to you saying I was a foreigner when we were kids… I just didn’t want you to know about me. Jake told me you met my sister… I was a witch who attended Belift Boarding School for young witches” he said… Evan.

The boy who always met up with me after classes… the boy who helped me prank the other kids in my class. 

“I don’t understand," I said, confused…

“I think I’ve loved you since I first saw you, y/n” 

When we first met I felt drawn to love at first sight.  I loved you then and I love you now, I’ll always be there to lift you up even if you don't want me there. I want to be the only one to cherish and love you. To die and live for you and only you. So I can only dream you would do that for me. 

“Then why? You were one the meanest! You rejected me first! You’re a liar… you… why?” I yelled until I realized I was getting emotional.

“Don’t cry… not when you have six other soulmates–” “Answer me” I said and he smiled a soft smile. 

A smile that… I've only seen once… when he comforted me after what happened with Jake. 

“Jake, Jay, and Sunghoon were in love with Sooha… they don’t know this but you do. If you have more than one soulmate and you try to–" "To bond with a few of them then the bond eventually dies' ' I finished for him and he gave me a sad smile. 

“I knew Jungwon would want to be with you even without the bond and so would Niki and Sunoo. I wasn’t sure though… but here you are” he said and I scoffed. 

“You shouldn’t make decisions for other people,” I said and he gave me a sad smile. “I know… but when it affects your magic I was willing to break you apart from them when not all of them were going to accept you easily,” he said and I sighed. 

It's why I couldn’t defend myself against Jake… also why my magic has been faltering recently. 

When a witch's soulmate bond is rejected… and fighting for the bond drains your magic. You can fix either by rejecting your mates back… or having them accept you. It's also why Wonyoung broke my bond temporarily… so my magic can temporarily regenerate. 

“You turned into a vampire?” I asked and he chuckled. “Not willingly… but I can live with it. My sister recommended that I go to Decelis. So im learning to come to terms with it” he said and I nodded. 

“You really do look pretty… you would have to be the prettiest person in the school” he said as he lifted his hand up to tuck my hair away. 

“Prettier than Sooha?” I asked and he chuckled. “Believe it or not, I've never loved Sooha. She was more like a sister to me… my own sister took care of me in this life. While I took care of Sooha in another… So I didn’t reject you to have Sooha… I would have to be a fool” he said and I was shocked. 

“Go to your party… you worked hard for it. They’re all waiting–" "But I chose your message, "I said, cutting him off. 

“Oh? I guess you did… It would be a bad example if the president of the student council of Bright Sun didn’t follow her own rules” he said and I chuckled. 

“Shall we?”

We arrived now with our masks on and I took everything in. 

I soon heard him chuckle beside me… “They’re all jealous and annoyed,” he said and I sighed. “They must be confused about who I chose?” I asked and he nodded. 

“They’d never guess me,” he said and I nodded… I looked at him, he was happy. He had a grin on his face… not so serious like other times. “Don’t worry your pretty little head, will you give me at least one dance?” he asked and I smiled and took his hand. 

I enjoyed my time with him… this was the Evan I knew. My best friend from elementary school graduated and I never heard of it again. 

“I wish you would let me choose my own path, you know,” I said as we swayed to the music. He smiled… “I know better than anyone… what rejecting mates does to a witch. You were fighting for the bond… and it was eating your magic” he said and he wasn’t wrong. I jeopardized myself… but they didn’t know that. 

“How do you know about that?” I asked and he sighed. “Let's just say my sister… she experienced it,” he said and I felt my eyes widen. 

“Don’t worry… she’s fine. Can I ask–” “We will be announcing our king and queen!” I heard Wonyoung’s voice. “Now we have included this year to not just include witches or any magic users only. So please be open-minded to one another and let us accept other species into our traditions” she said and I smiled. 

It was controversial but it was all fun and to be enjoyed. 

“Our king… is K from Riverfield!” she announced and I was shocked. K? I soon saw him join the stage… “And our queen… Sooha from Declis” she announced. What? Not everything was wrong– 

“EJ and Wonyoung are doing me a favor… Sunghoon can put aside his ego for this one time” Heeseung said. The King was voted most times for Sunghoon and the Queen was Wonyoung… So what was going on?

I looked back at them getting their crowns and smiling at each other… “They’ve accepted one another,”  said and he nodded. 

“K finally has some sense… and Sooha is finally thinking clearly,” he said and I chuckled. “Thank you… even though you tampered with my event” I said and he laughed. 

“I’m sorry, I'll make it up to you,” he said and I smirked. “Oh? Then I know how you can '' I said and he looked at me shocked. “We’re soulmates right, Evan?” I asked and he laughed.

“Yes, we’re soulmates y/n. I’m sorry for everything… but I'm willing to do anything for you. I promise my little witch” he said and I smiled. 

“y/n!!” I heard and I saw Sunoo and Jungwon. “You bastard! What'd you do to our soulmate!” Sunoo yelled and I laughed. 

“I chose his message… sorry boys,” I said and they pouted. 

“Yeah, so I won fair and square,” he said and Jungwon scoffed. “So did Sunghoon yet he’s drawing a punch right now,” he said and I laughed. 

“I owe him a dance,” I said and I was suddenly pulled back with the hands on my hips. 

“Sorry, but you’re mine tonight. I won you with my message… and I want to make up for all the time I’ve lost” he said and I nodded.

“Comfort Sunghoon please?” I asked the two boys and they nodded. 

“I’m guessing you guys are all made up?” I asked and he nodded. 

“Everything is right again… especially my soul that is bound to you” 

taglist -> @sunus-sun @loumin908 @on-1ce @shinkenprincess-oh @b-a-nshee-blog @bnnyniky @sakuxxi @chiiiiiiiiis @cncreams @pre1ttyies @justanunstablefrog @graythecoffeebean @starzniiky @singlepringle4you @chirokookie @kthstrawberryshortcake-main @imtoanonymousforyou @lovgfrd @ilovecheese09 @sousydive @pink-but-rosie @kyleebob @jihyosgf @in-somnias-world @jilxxasu @bee-the-loser @mitchikeli @cyberpunksunwoo @lhspeachie @loafsunshinesworld @vixensss @zhenya109 @luumiinaa @rosas-in-the-garden @b3tt7boop @moony-mari @vixialuvs @ilovecheese09 @capri-cuntz @emma2black @skzhoes @emma2black

please don't be a silent reader !! reblog, comment, and like <3

[dryadalisliv]

Merthur ao3 recs

The trouble with Daisies 23.4k words

Merlin is just settling into his new role as Court Sorcerer and trying to figure out where he's exactly standing with Arthur when he finds himself adopting a dog completely by accident.

A dog who seems to hate the king with a burning passion.

Arthur is far from amused.

---

The moon stays warped in silence 12.6k words

"What is wrong with me Ma?" asks little Merlin his mother. "What is wrong with me?" asks Arthur Pendragon to the moon. About monsters and their hearts and how they love life so much that it hurts.

---

Little ones 14.5k words

“Did you just say you found two children in Arthur’s bed, Merlin?” Gaius gave him The eyebrow. Or, when two children who look weirdly similar to Merlin and Arthur appear in the prince's chambers, they have to find out where they came from. In which secrets get revealed, families founded and chaos ensues!

---

Sunny in Camelot 14.6k words

"Merlin," Uther says, "For your alleged crimes, I would normally sentence you to death by fire. But, because my son has requested it… I have granted you a fair trial. All witnesses and involved parties shall state their cases, and then a verdict will be reached. Is this understood?"

"Yes sire."

"Now you will each tell me, in your own account, what on earth happened this week."

"Your majesty, it all began Tuesday…"

---

The Hunt for Red Emrys 27.9k words

King Arthur sets out to keep his promise to the spirit of the Druid boy by repealing his father's ban on magic. Unfortunately, this is easier said than done, for reasons including but not limited to the following:

(1) He can't change the law until he understands magic better, but no sorcerer is willing to explain magic to him until he changes the law;

(2) The sorcerers all have some strange obsession with Merlin, which is awakening all sorts of feelings in Arthur that he really doesn't fancy examining too closely;

(3) He is starting to feel like the butt of some Druid-population-wide inside joke involving the mysterious phenomenon called Emrys; and

(4) Oh yeah, Morgana is still trying to kill him.

Thus he embarks on a journey of discovery, diplomacy, accountability, and self-improvement, and maybe even falls in love along the way.

---

Forgotten Memories 8k words

Relying on pure luck and Merlin’s inexistent ability to keep a secret was not working any longer. So, Merlin figured better to be prepared and memorized a spell that could erase short-term memories. Honestly, he’d meant it as an emergency protocol, he had no idea how he’d become so careless that he needed it so often. It wasn’t his fault Arthur seemed to be paying way too much attention to him lately. Look, Merlin was just trying to survive while protecting his prince, he hadn’t done anything to deserve all this stress!

Or the 5 times Merlin erased Arthur’s memory of his magic and the 1 time he let him remember.

---

The Laughter From the Next Room 24.5k words

A small ball hovered in her hand, shining with a silver-blue light. It floated there, getting brighter and brighter before dimming again. Wisps of cloud swirled at its center. It was pure magic. And the breath was stolen from Arthur’s lungs. “I thought you’d recognize it. He said it was warm. He said it reminded him of home.”

It has been one year since Merlin's death when Arthur meets Morgana on the battlefield. Somehow, between all the guilt and shame, he discovers that his sister knew Merlin better than he ever did - and ever would.

^^

( actually one of the best fics i have ever read, and it made me sob and ugly cry, my god!)

[flamingo-writes]

Can you imagine that by being exposed to Hobie's "radioactivity" for so long, the reader begins to have powers? for example of nature,like Poison Ivy. That would definitely be fun to read.

I had to break my head with this idea, but I think it has potential for future fics!

Daffodil — Hobie x Reader

Warnings: cursing, and ai believe that’s all.

Word count: 580 words.

I might do more of these actually.

In the beginning, while figuring out Hobie’s spider abilities was a wild ride. Although, being the two peas of a pod that you were, you helped him figure everything out. Being the only who knew his secret drew you even closer if that was even possible.

What you didn’t consider was the radioactivity. You had theorised what had happened with the spider and the abilities, and while you had brought up radioactivity, you forgot about the tiny detail that radioactivity tended to affect everyone who was close to it.

The amount of time you spent with Hobie and the amount of time you spent tending to your plants, you started noticing weird things.

At first it was as easy and as wonderful as magically bringing your plants back to health. And then you started noticing plants coming out of your fingers.

After you freaked out, it was now Hobie’s turn to help you calm down, just like you’d done it for him back when he was bitten.

The discussion opened again, now trying to theorise now why this was happening to you.

When you finally arrived to the conclusion that it was perhaps because of Hobie’s radioactivity and your plants, Hobie asked you if you wanted to join him, raising the city, helping people who needed it.

“You know how fucking cool would that be?” Hobie said pulling you by the hips, bringing you closer to him. “My spider abilities, your plant abilities…”

“What could I do? Give people skin rashes with poison ivy?” You chuckled.

“You laugh about it, but it’s actually a good idea. My webs, your poison ivy plants…Not only we immobilise them, but you torture them with an awful itch and skin rash…” He said with a cheeky smirk.

“And how exactly would I be called? Plant-Girl sounds lame. Makes me sound like a hippie motherfucker,” You giggled softly.

“We have time to think about that…” He sighed. “How about Daffodil?”

“Are you serious?”

“They’re beautiful flowers, but they are very poisonous if you ingest them…” Hobie said proudly as he caressed your cheek.

“Who’s gonna eat a daffodil?”

“You’d be surprised with how stupid can people really be…” He chuckled.

For the next few weeks, while you learned how to use your newfound abilities, Hobie helped you out. Sadly, the plant-based abilities didn’t give you the enhanced physical abilities Hobie’s spider abilities. So you had a slight disadvantage there. However, you learned that your abilities could be incredibly powerful. Making plants grow everywhere, any sort of plant. You could mimic Hobie’s web.

However you used your abilities for the most part for protests and even art shows.

Hobie loved how you managed to create art out of plants, he thought it was beautiful. The same plants that got out of control when someone tried to cut the down.

“Capitalism is destroying nature, now we have nature taking over,” Hobie said proudly, as he watched a couple of cops tangled in the branches of a tree. “How does it feel to be completely useless against a tree?” Hobie said, poking fun at the cops, his Spider-Man suit concealing his identity.

Eventually people started hearing of Daffodil. Always wrecking havoc along with Spider-Man, although Daffodil remained more hidden, and wasn’t swinging around like Spider-Man. However, Daffodil usually left flowers behind, as a signature. Some bad guy or some abusive cop, tangled and immobilised in plants, usually poison ivy’s.

Hobie was insanely proud of you. And patrolling the city became the times more fun.

[bones4thecats]

Hello, 😊 anon here. Your amazing digital circus writing was amazing - it had me smiling the whole day! I got excited when I saw you took requests for cartoon villains from some shows I like, so I figured I'd send in a request for a few of them 😊

Could I request His Imperial Majesty (HIM), Ice King, and Doofenshmirtz who have a platonic mentor-student relationship with the reader, and how they handle having a protégé who is quite skilled but also very nervous or anxious? Like, they struggle to do things in the moment or under pressure (if that makes sense)

I hope you have a nice day 👍

Protégé! Reader Having Atychiphobia

Characters: HIM, Ice King, and Dr. Heinz Doofenshmirtz Requester: 😊Anon A/N: This is full of so much fluff and angst that it's making my head spin! Also, just noting the Reader is said to have minor Atychiphobia, which has a definition below! Have fun reading this btw! ⚠️ Spoilers/Trigger Warnings for: Adventure Time S3 Eps19-20, and Phineas and Ferb's numerous episodes (I'm to lazy to name every single on with his backstory mentioned) finally, warnings for mentions of failure, disappointment, accidental harm, mental - physical - child abuse, and attempted child murder ⚠️ ~ Atychiphobia; "Atychiphobia is an intense fear of failure. It comes from the Greek word 'atyches,' meaning 'unfortunate.' People with atychiphobia may avoid any situation where they see a potential for failure, such as an exam or job interview." ~ My.ClevelandClinic.org

••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●•

»»—————————-　 His Infernal Majesty 　—————————-««

❤️ Being born in the Underworld to demonic parents was hard, but it got worse when they showed their true sides and attempted to kill you early on in your life

❤️ Thankfully, your future adopted mentor, His Infernal Majesty, or HIM, had found out about the failed attempt and allowed the multiple malevolent and blood-thirsty members of the lands to have their fun with them (essentially ridding all dimensions of them)

❤️ Over the course of a couple days, HIM was trying to find another space you could go. He wasn't a fan of happiness, yet you were seemingly full of it whenever he was around. From giving his legs hugs to even gifting him small drawings or really any kind of creation you made out of your stone-making ability

❤️ HIM began to actually enjoy having you around. You showed a potential like no other demon or monster he had ever seen, well, other than himself of course

❤️ Over the passing years and eventual eon, HIM really leaned into acting like a father to you. Your powers had grown to a length that many feared you the same as they did the King of Darkness

❤️ Every single time he asked you to carry something out, you did so successfully, and he saw no sign of you being anxious or in any kind of denial about your abilities. You were gifted a kind of 'magic' that allowed you to just make people into stone and send them to be dust like nothing. You were powerful, but you were also fragile

"Y/N? Ah, there you are, youngling! How are you on this majestically horrible day?"

❤️ Looking up from your desk, you used your acting skills to try getting your teacher to leave you alone so you could finish your breakdown. Just a few days ago he had assigned you a task of getting some of Townsville's villains on your side, but you seemingly couldn't get them to listen for more than five minutes

"I'm fine, my Lord."

"Your aura is off, kiddo. I'm no fool. Now, tell me what is going on. Or else I may have to resort to not-so-kind methods."

❤️ You knew he was bluffing and just wanted you to speak your mind, but in your fear and depressed-stricken state, you believed him to be fully honest. So, you lifted your head fully and looked at him, making him startled at seeing how red your eyes had become. They were comparable to his very own skin!

❤️ He got down from the counter-top he was sitting on and walked towards you before opening his claw-hands and using one end to lift your chin to stare at him in the eyes

"Who did this."

"The assignment... it was just so hard! The damn mortals won't listen to any of the ideas you gave me on this accursed paper! They just- they won't let their egos fall for one lick of a second!"

❤️ HIM sighed and wrapped an arm around your shoulder, allowing you some time to rest. He understood what was wrong now. Every one of your plans when handling others to manipulate were successful, but this time you were failing. You feared disappointing him, and while he would normally push his worker aside and make them fear it even more, you mattered to him

"How about this; I take you outside and give you something else to do to take your mind away from this task. I'll just assign it to somebody else. Does that sound good?"

"Yeah.. thanks, Dad."

"...No problem, Rockstar."

••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●•

»»————————————-　  Ice King  　————————————-««

In this, the reader is based off changelings from MLP:FiM. Here are two pieces of fanart I went off from: child-form / older-form

🧊 Long ago, you were once a young child, being held by your parents in the cozy cabin of theirs. Well, that was before they noticed differences in you that wasn't obvious before. From your extremely pointy ears to having fairly large eyes with a prominent blue shade and not the normal (e/c), they grew fearful and asked a species expert what was wrong

🧊 He had taken one look into your eyes and screamed for you to be taken away, you were a changeling. A creature that would become anything for the gain of love and affection to feed themselves and their empty-hearts

🧊 You were a mere 5-year-old, now living on your own in the freezing forest and mountain-tops ruled by the feared Ice King. Over the next couple months, you traveled randomly, trying to find something, someone, who would accept you

🧊 If you were left like nothing, it was obvious your real home had no use for you. After all, abandoning such a young hunter is fruitless

🧊 As you sat down next to a makeshift camp, you heard the sounds of small footprints pushing snow down. The footsteps began to get closer, making you look up in fear as you bared your fangs and hissed, your long tongue flailing about in an attempt to scare the being off

🧊 You then noticed a taller male looking down at you with some penguins around him, he looked at you confusingly before asking who you were

"Y/N..."

"Well Y/N. Why are you out here in the cold, by what I understand, humans can't survive fully out here."

🧊 It took a little while, and by that I mean by Guntar, or maybe one of his clones? It was hard to keep track sometimes. He grabbed your hand and rubbed his face on it, before turning around and looking at the mystery man with hope in his big eyes. Ice King sighed and motioned for you to follow them home

🧊 Over the following hundred years, you grew into a well-liked changeling. Though many had no clue of your true species. All it took for others to really accept you was the friendship you made with Princess Bubblegum

🧊 When you finally began to share the feeling of love with somebody, that being the Queen who abandoned you, you went from the colors of the night to having light green skin and many parts of you representing the insects you loved messing with at home

🧊 Finn and Jack understood why you were fearful to return home, with with their assurance, you gave them all one last hug before flying away to confront your adoptive father

🧊 Ice King was shocked to hear his name being called out by you, normally you were fairly mute and would just tug on his arm to get his attention

"Y/N...? Are you alri-"

🧊 Seeing a taller and far more colorful changeling there made Ice King shriek and ready himself with his magic, making you jump and begin to fearfully ramble on what happened

"I'm sorry, Boss! I didn't mean to disappoint you!"

"Disappoint me...? Y/N, what are you going on about?! I took you in hundreds of years ago by my own will... and maybe Guntar #53's as well. But STILL!"

🧊 Looking up from your bowing position, you noticed that Ice King had sat in front of you and was smiling gently. An obvious care was laying in him that he never revealed to anyone else

"You are my child. Maybe not from blood, but you're still my child."

"R-really?"

"Yep! No tricks, swear on my crown!"

••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●•

»»————————-　 Dr. Heinz Doofenshmirtz 　————————-««

🔫 When Dr. Doofenshmirtz first met you, you were walking around Danville with your pet banana ball python wrapped around your neck, giving you small flicks of his tongue

🔫 You smiled at him and pat his tiny head lightly, moving around the people walking down the sidewalks. You then groaned when you heard a loud woman's voice, it was your old friend, Maddeline

🔫 Maddeline ran up to you and slightly jumped at seeing your snake, before calming down and asking where you had been for the past five years. You just rolled your eyes and let your snake roll down into your hand, holding the reptile up to her

🔫 She was getting more freaked out as the snake began to slither up to try biting her, making her run away in fear

🔫 You had no interest in speaking of the past five years. All of the failed attempts at pleasing your family members remained grilled into your memories, making you despise any mention of them

🔫 Thankfully, it only took a trip to the nearby grocery store to meet another female, one that seemed to be around 16 or so years old. She introduced herself as Vanessa Doofenshmirtz, making you chuckle, such an odd last name

🔫 A few weeks later, you and Vanessa began to hang out, seeing one another around so often had to be a sin for friendship. One day, the sound of a slightly boisterous and scratchy male's voice made you both look up, and seeing how Vanessa reacted, you only assumed it was her father. You were not-surprisingly correct

"Oh! Who's this little one, Vanessa?"

"This is Y/N, I met them a few weeks ago at the store a couple blocks down."

"Interesting. I'm Heinz Doofenshmirtz, Vanessa's father. It's nice to meet you, Y/N!"

"It's nice to meet you as well... Mr. Doofenshmirtz."

🔫 Shockingly, as the months passed of you and his daughter hanging out, you began to show a sign of high-intelligence, one that could rival Doof's entirely. One day, one of his -Inators had gone berserk and you ran up and disabled it in a matter of seconds

🔫 He almost immediately offered you a role in his work, specifically with going over his stuff to make sure his math and everything was correct. He didn't need another -Inator to fail again...

🔫 Over time of working with Vanessa's father, you gained a closeness almost similar to a father-child one. He showed you the kinder side of him, the same one he showed his daughter. And the way he praised you for your brilliance made you feel... nice. Like you had a purpose

🔫 Unfortunately for him and you though, one day you had gone over his calculations and gotten it wrong, making his invention crash and burn to nothing. And you panicked like nobody else was around

🔫 Was he going to yell at you? Scream? Scold you on how useless and a waste of space you were? Was he going to hate you...?

"Y/N, are you alright?!"

🔫 Looking up you saw Doofenshmirtz helping you up from the blast's damage. Why wasn't he yelling at you for screwing up so badly? He could've gotten severely hurt!

"Kid? You good?"

"Why... why aren't you yelling at me for screwing up?"

"What do you mean? It was an honest mistake. I've made millions! Besides, it's not like you make them all the time."

"So... you're not going to hit me and call me an idiot?"

"WHAT?! Who would do such a thing?! I may be an evil genius, but that makes zero sense to do!"

🔫 Doofenshmirtz looked into your eyes and noticed they were fogging over with tears. He could understand where you were coming from now. This must've been why you came to Danville, you had a bad family back home. He had one too

🔫 You began to sob as he hugged you, attempting to calm you down to the best of his abilities. And after a few minutes of reassuring words, you stopped crying and fell asleep, making him smile and lay you down in one of the rooms he set up for you and Vanessa whenever you two stayed over

🔫 Smiling as you rested, Doofenshmirtz couldn't help but wonder... just how similar were you two?

[quibbs126]

could you do a blackberry x adventurer fankid if you havent already pretty please :3

I can’t really say that I made this because of the aforementioned “I haven’t drawn anything in a while” post, it’s just because I was scrolling through my requests and remembered that I was in the middle of drawing her before and thought “might as well finish”

Anyways sorry, this is Blackberry Scone Cookie

So if I’m being perfectly honest, I don’t entirely know what her deal is. I know that, unlike her father, she is very willing to acknowledge that she’s rich and uphold that side of her family. She’s also at least outwardly, very similar to her mother in being generally reserved in her emotions. I think one idea I had for her is that she does cool things, she just does with a disinterested face, which kind of just heightens the coolness

Okay so I’m gonna be completely honest, I am now going to just make something up as I write. That top part was in part for me to figure something out

Outwardly, she seems disinterested, but she has plenty of emotions, you just either need to pay attention to her actual words instead of tone, or you just need to get close enough to her for the mask to fall. She also has quite an interest in stories of magic and in mystical artifacts, though she prefers simply reading about them over going out to find them. Also, despite her interest in the subject, she just doesn’t have that much of an ability for magic/the occult, and has difficulty seeing ghosts (best she has is that she can sometimes see Onion), which is one of the reasons she sticks to simply reading about them rather than going out herself

While she has respect for her father in how he goes out on his own to seek out treasure and artifacts, she just doesn’t understand why he hates his rich life. Her only real guess is that he sees it as clashing with his adventurer persona, which she thinks is kind of stupid. She’s also pretty much the one running the estate while he’s gone (she’s an adult by this point) and being the one to actually deal with things such as house guests. Not to say Adventurer was an absent parent, and he’d actually take her along when she was younger on some of his expeditions, but he can disappear sometimes now

She doesn’t hate her parents, and it’s not like they were horrible parents to her, but she feels distant from her mother due to her lack of ghost abilities, and some amount of resentment for her father for being so attached to this persona of his and his disdain for his actual heritage, especially since she’s fully accepting of it and it unintentionally makes her self conscious about it

She’s not super sure of her place in the world, but for now she’s just trying to do her job as a member of a rich family

Hm, so I ended up writing more on her than I thought I would. Ah well, not a bad thing. Well, design time

So her name’s Blackberry Scone due to me headcanoning Adventurer to be some sort of shortbread or biscuit (I know they’re the same thing in other countries, but I’m unsure as to what kind of biscuit he is now). Scones are kind of like biscuits, add some blackberry and there you go, blackberry scones

A potential name was Blackberry Cobbler, but I think I prefer scone, especially since I made her more rich-seeming

Blackberry scone:

So almost everything I made of her, outside of the small sketches and some of the colors, I made a couple weeks ago while waiting at the dentist’s office, and I mostly blocked her out of my mind after that as a result. So I don’t really remember a lot of the design process

I feel like I gave her that hairstyle to make her look “cool”, but then I kind of threw that aspect of her character away. But I still like it, so she keeps it

Also, her suit was originally a bit more reddish, but I changed it today to make it more purple so it’d fit with the color of the scones. They don’t really look that red, so I changed it. But I think now the colors may not all look the best together

I feel like I may have made her colors all a bit too similar to each other, and/or not given her enough, but I don’t really know what else to change

Also when I came back today, the thickness of the lines was bothering me. Maybe it’s because I’ve been dabbling with the Syrup brush now, but I think I need to play with line width more now, since some of the smaller things like the brooch feel like they have too thick of lines

I don’t think her design is necessarily bad though, it’s mostly color wise I have issues with

And yeah, that’s Blackberry Scone, I hope you enjoy her

[soren-apologist]

i wonder if the reason soren can cast magic silently is because of his dragon blood

it’s canon that soren doesn’t actually verbalize his incantations when casting thanks to the fact he was taught magic years before anyone ever bothered to help him learn how to speak, hence the “silent master of winds” moniker. heck, we even see it during lucia’s execution cutscene where soren is visibly mouthing the words for elwind but is entirely inaudible.

considering no one else can apparently do this (based on how the silence staff works, and ignoring the fact that those also affect soren because of gameplay reasons), i’m curious as to what exactly makes soren so special. it’s possible that the sage that taught him magic was the one who gave him this technique, but since soren never mentions him also being able to do this, he may have just figured out how to do it himself since the sage apparently never bothered to teach him how to even speak to begin with.

it’s a given that branded will have unique abilities based on their laguz parentage, but it’s only really ever expanded upon with micaiah, who can heal others at the expense of her own health, read hearts, and has the ability to see events in the future. meanwhile, the only thing we really know about soren is that it’s implied that he has a perfect sense of direction because of scenes like fe9 chapter 17 where he mentions knowing exactly where he was in the burnt serenes forest when even ike was getting confused, as well as it offering an explanation for how, exactly, he was able to track ike all the way to crimea with nothing but a vague memory and a dream.

with that said, i propose that being half-black dragon, the most powerful variant of laguz on the continent, grants soren two other abilities:

1. draconic heart-reading

2. unusually high magical talent

the first thing isn’t really relevant for this specific topic even though it does offer a reason why soren is so “empathetic” despite how prickly and misanthropic he is, but the second gives a possible explanation for how he was able to develop that sort of unique ability at such a young age. (it also gives an in-universe reason for why soren, a teenager, ends up a significantly more powerful mage than characters like calill and bastian who both have decades of experience over him, but growths > bases isn’t exactly important here either lol.) silent casting could just be something soren who was already considered a magical prodigy was able to create all by himself, but i’d argue it’s plausible that if his dragon blood wasn’t directly responsible for him being able to do it, then at the very least it’s the reason why he was so adept at magic to begin with.

to be more specific on that last point, it’s important to keep in mind that laguz heritage not only gives unique, non-beorc abilities, but also affects any sort of natural talents the branded may have. stefan is an incredibly talented and adept swordsman because of the naturally high strength and skill of a lion, while micaiah is a poor combatant but excellent healer because of her heron blood, who themselves are pacifists entirely incapable of fighting but instead heal and energize their allies. as such, black dragons have unusally high magical stats despite their breath attacks using strength, so i’m willing to bet that if one were to use tomes in combat instead of transforming, their solid magic and skill along with their high resistance would make them formidable opponents. those 3 stats are actually all ones soren happens to excel in, so i believe that it wouldn’t be a massive stretch to claim that black dragon blood grants its owners a natural gift for casting magic.

to sum all this up, while i do think it’s possible that soren is literally just so good at magic he was able to pull a toph beifong and invent an entirely new method of casting, it could still be a result of his dragon blood granting him unique abilities— and honestly, with all the bullshit he had to endure just because he has that dragon blood, giving him special powers is the very least it could do for him.

[pinkeoni]

The “Will Has Powers” Basics Post

I’ve realized recently that whenever I talk about Will having powers, I kind of just expect everyone to be on the same page as me, without really explaining much of what lead me to believe he has powers in the first place. I don't really have a good foundation to point to.

So that's what I want this post to be, not really too detailed but more of an introductory post. I'll explain the basics of my Will has powers theories, why I believe he has powers, and what kinds of powers I think he has. I'll be using evidence I've used in a lot of other posts while also keeping it simplistic and not trying to add anything too speculative or theoretical.

Evidence & Powers #1) Nancy's Dialogue and Time and Light Powers

I think one of the easiest pieces of evidence and my usual go-to is Nancy's dialogue in 4x07 when the teens are in the Upside Down. Nancy remarks that the Upside Down is stuck on the day that Will went missing, and then brings Will up again in regards to the lights. Both of her pieces of dialogue here implicates Will as the one who froze time and got the lights to work the way they do.

"The last entry is November 6, 1983. The day Will went missing. The day the gate opened."

"Will found a way. Will. He found a way to speak to Joyce through the lights."

(So I used to think it was "The day the gate opened. The day Will went missing." and not "The day Will went missing. The day the gate opened." but after rewatching the scene it is actually the former. My bad.)

Now obviously Nancy wouldn't know that Will is responsible nor do I think she has some kind of psychic intuition, but the writers would know and are writing her dialogue in a specific way that points toward Will in both instances. Bringing him up by name not one, not two but three times places emphasis on him specifically. I think that

El opening the gate had a part in this, but if it was her solely then I think Nancy's dialogue would read as "The last entry is November 6, 1983. The day El opened the gate." rather than trying to tie Will into it in the first place. Moreover, the gates that Vecna is opening with El's powers don't seem to be updating the Upside Down to modern times, Will is an important piece of the puzzle.

The light thing is something that I do think is solely Will, given that gate opening isn't brought up and Nancy brings Will up by name twice in the same line of dialogue.

The word "found" here is also interesting because it could have two meanings.

A) Will stumbled upon the lights ability

B) Will created the ability to communicate with lights

Had Nancy said "Will stumbled upon a way to talk to Joyce through the lights" it would suggest that the lights is a rule from the UD that has always been there. Nancy saying that Will created the ability to talk through lights wouldn't make sense for her to say because Nancy wouldn't have access to that information. "Found" is the perfect balance between the two— it makes sense given Nancy's access to information while allowing enough room to imply that Will had something to do with it.

Evidence & Powers #2) Will as an Artist and Creation Powers

If you created a tv character who had magic powers, but you couldn't reveal it until the final season, how do you pull it off without it feeling out of nowhere? How do you build up the reveal without completely giving it away.

Well, I would do it by attributing his powers with aspects of the character that has already been built up and that the audience has become familiar with.

It's established that Will is an artist from season one, and his art continues to be important to the plot it nearly every season.

In season one, Joyce is able to correctly identify that El is not because Will's drawings are much more advanced than El's stick figures.

In season two, Will uses drawings in order to help visualize his now memories and creates a map of the tunnels.

Not much in season three, but Will does use charcoal in one scene to demonstrate visually how the shadow particles work.

In season four, Will creates a painting for Mike that becomes an important moment in the season and sets in motion important events for the future (aka byler endgame)

I will admit that this piece of evidence by itself is not enough to convince an audience that Will has a supernatural link. Will is an artist -> Will has powers is a pretty far stretch. But I think that this combined with some of my other evidence could support what kind of powers I think he has, which I think is some from of creation ability. Will has powers because of xyz -> Will is also an artist -> Will has powers of creation is a better argument and what I'm trying to get at.

Without getting into all of the chunky theoretics here, I believe it's possible that Will may have the ability to create whole lifeforms and vast worlds, such as the Upside Down itself and the creatures inside.

Evidence & Powers #3) Will the Wise, Fire Powers & Prophetic Abilities

This goes along similarly with what I said about using Will's artistry to foreshadow his powers, or using another facet of Will's character to hint at powers without giving it away altogether. Although, I would say that this piece of evidence is probably a lot more obvious than the previous bullet.

"Will the Wise" is Will's Dungeon's & Dragons name, which comes up pretty frequently in the show. Will the Wise is confusingly labeled as both a wizard and a cleric, although both classes are magic-users within DnD.

Each member of the party has a DnD class and character, although Will's is the one that get's brought up the most. The name Will the Wise is referenced—

Episode one when Will is playing DnD

In a flashback later in season one

The episode title "Will the Wise" from season two

And in season three when we have our most obvious piece of powers foreshadowing, when Will dresses up in a Wizard costume

During this same scene, Will says that he has "seen into the future" which is why I suggest that he may have prophetic abilities. Vecna displays a similar ability when he shows Nancy the future in her vision.

It's also possible that Will may have some kind of fire abilities, based on one of Will the Wise's attacks being "fireball." (@reikunrei made a really great post recently proposing that Will's fire powers might extend to some of his other abilities rather than being purely a fire attack, but alas I cannot find it ((I am so sorry Wilbur)))

Evidence #4) Continued Connection With Vecna

Another reason why I suspect that Will may have powers comes from a series of questions:

Why is Will the first one taken to the Upside Down?

Why choose Will as the host of the Mind Flayer?

Why continue to have a connection with Will?

I think I could write-off the first two as incidental if the show didn't make it a point to continue this connection through seasons three and four, that along with Nancy's dialogue in season 4 discussed earlier. Could Will's disappearance have been a coincidence? Sure. Could Vecna have just needed Will to be a spy, and is completely disposable to him? It's possible. But if so, what is the narrative reasoning for maintaining this connection? Is it to just for the convenience of having Will as a beast sensor?

Something else that tips me off about Will's disappearance is the why it happens as well, which we aren't really told. We are told with Barb that the demogorgon is attracted to blood. Nancy and Jonathan later use this tactic to lure it to the house.

And yet with Will, we don't see any blood. In fact, they make a point to emphasize this when Hopper tells Joyce that there was no blood on his bike.

Evidence #5) Will's focus in season 5

Despite Will always being my favorite character and loving him so dearly, I didn't start seriously theorizing until I saw this tweet by Discussing Film, which came out shortly after vol. 2 was released.

I know that outside cast and crew comment shouldn’t be taken as gospel, as they have lied before for the sake of spoilers. Which is why I put this at the end, and why it’s not my only piece of evidence.

But still, it’s not like every comment is a lie, and even then, wouldn’t this be a wierd thing to lie about? And kinda cruel? Imagine saying “Oh, this gay character who hasn’t gotten a lot of screentime is going to be a focus.” only to say “Haha just kidding, he’s actually unimportant!” So I’m inclined to believe that they’re telling the truth.

So if this statement is true, then how could Will not have powers? How would you make a character the center of a show about the supernatural, if he has no tie to the supernatural at all?

[viablemess]

Gale's Childhood + Mystra

I just have some thoughts and need to articulate them because they will not leave my brain alone at all and I cannot think about much else. Feel free to sit down and join me as I word vomit how I imagine Gale’s childhood went. I did not edit this or proof read it at all, so bear with any grammar/spelling/flow mistakes please!

So, Gale’s mother is Morena Dekarios, we know that. She’s an angel, an icon, and she cares so much, and she is wicked smart. I also headcanon that she is a high quality escort in the City of Splendors, and so grew up knowing how to please people and blend in with high society in any way she can. So, she raised Gale right. She told him about what she did, never hid anything from him, and would bend over backwards to ensure that her son was happy, healthy, and cared for. Because she had to blend in with high society, she had so many books, and art pieces, and high quality alcohol and clothes all over her house. Gale grew up around these, and absorbed it all with ease, and Morena thought that was fantastic. She frequently sent him to school whenever she had to work even if he had already spent the entire day there because she knew he would be safe and looked after, because his dad was not around to look after him.

Speaking of his dad, let’s talk about Waterdeep politics for a moment, shall we? We will circle back to Gale’s parentage. Waterdeep is ruled by a council of 16 Lords, all of whom are anonymous. Whenever they are ruling in public, they use magical masks called the Lord’s Helm that hides their identities. A common game in Waterdeep is to identify the Lords and figure out the rumors that float around about them. The Lords actually start most of their own rumors, though, so these can be easily misleading. Because the Lords elect the other Lords via anonymous vote, it is difficult for the Lords to even know who is who, but they do know their names, and so they have more information. So, while the Lords are frequently protected from assassination / bribes / stalking / lobbying from the public, they are not as always well protected from each other, so the secrecy is still important, and caution is warranted. I imagine some of the Lords take this very seriously, and value the job over forming families or bonds, so high quality well-to-do escorts like Morena are highly sought after.

Now, back to Gale’s father. So, Morena is an escort for a Lord, one thing leads to another, some mistakes are made, and Morena gets pregnant which was definitely not the goal, but she can’t tell anyone she is pregnant with a Lord’s child, so she just pretends the child’s father is another client and moves on. So, if the Lord happens to be a (maybe red) wizard/cleric/paladin of Mystra… who is to say? If this Lord happens to be highly talented and magically inclined (or magically manipulated) who would ever know? Gale starts showing magical inclinations in the womb. Morena’s 9 months of pregnancy are absolutely hell. She isn’t ready for a child, but she isn’t not ready, either. So, she gets shit done and gets ready. She talks to the local Blackstaff Academy and seeks help and these teachers are /interested/ because rarely does anyone show magical talents in the womb and they are here to support her and more importantly here to teach this would-be-prodigy.

Morena is wealthy, so she can pay for private tutors and Gale shows magical abilities akin to a teen when he is a child, and so she fanes those (sometimes literal) flames. She knows her son’s child is powerful, and so Gale must be powerful, too. She loves him, and fully enables him to make his own decisions, but he is /good/ at magic and a child. He likes being good at things, and so of course he follows his talents naturally. So much so, in fact, that when he accidentally sets off a fireball trying to pick his mom some roses with a mage hand, Elminster shows right up. He had been watching Gale, after all. Mystra had told him to. Mystra had told him to watch Morena when she was pregnant, too, because Mystra knew what would happen. Mystra willed this to happen, and neither Morena nor Gale are any wiser about it.

“I wanted to give my mum something pretty,” tiny Gale had said, tears in his eyes and chubby cheeks flushed. “I’m sorry! I thought the roses were pretty, like sunsets are pretty, and I must have thought of the fire of a sunset by accident and—and—please don’t get mad at me.”

Because if there is one thing that Morena did instill in Gale other than politeness, a love for the finer things in life, and a sense of ambition (heh, ouch), it was to be respectful of authority, because Morena isn’t stupid. If a Lord could use another Lord’s child against them, they would, no hesitation. So, Gale is taught to be a good, rule-abiding little boy who has a healthy caution of leadership but mostly knows how to smile and nod and keep his head down. And Elminister, while not masked, gives off waves of authority, so Gale aims to please and keep his head down.

Elminster smiles. Gale clutches Morena’s skirt and hides behind her and Morena glares at Elminster as if daring him to do something. Elminster puts out the fire with a wave of his hand, and introduces himself. “I’ve been keeping an eye on your talents, Gale Dekarios. You’re so talented, but you do not know where to aim your talents. May I help you?”

Morena knows who Elminster is, she has heard the rumors. She does not know he is Mystra’s chosen (Morena knows Elminster to discuss grandiose tales with her clients, not to study magic or doctrine) or his relationship with Mystra at all. Morena frequently says, only in private and after a few glasses of wine, that the Gods can fuck right off because they were no help to her, she helped /herself/ thank you very much, so she does not know. She just sees this powerful and well-known figure who might be able to help her protect her son from his dad who is maybe still a Lord, and says yes.

Gale’s private study with Elminster goes on for a few years before Mystra gets involved when he turns 11. He excels, he goes to Blackstaff as one of the youngest students ever, and his classmates hate him. He is too good, too favored, too young. He does not have to try, as if he is blessed, and Gale does not understand why his classmates hate him. He’s studying just like they are, just many years ahead. He is young just like them, but a few years more. He has a favorite teacher in the form of Elminster, just like his classmates have their own favorites who actually are teachers at the academy and not a rumored hero of Faerun. His experience is close enough for Gale to not understand why his situation is unique, and why his peers hate him for it. So, he asks for a cat. Cats are nice and soft and hiss at people who they do not like, and Gale always had a hard time saying when he didn’t like someone so maybe the cat would do it for him. But Gale needed to focus on his studies, and cats couldn’t live with students at Blackstaff, so everyone tells him, respectfully, no. Gale keeps trying to make friends, and keeps failing, and he finally says “fine I’ll summon my own friend!” and summons Tara, which is an impressive feat, and within a single hour Tara says “fuck everyone this human is /mine/ and no one can tell me otherwise.” People try to banish Tara away, and she always comes back, but only for Gale, and sometimes for Morena.

Everyone knows Gale is talented, but it is not until he casually wields the Blackstaff entirely by accident that everyone realized how much so. The staff molds to his hand, and flutters in his direction ever since he picked it up. The school is furious, and Gale does not understand, because does that not mean that he is good at what he studies? He doesn’t understand it means he is a threat, he is too good, he is too strong, and some people would rather eradicate him than educate him.

One of the requirements for students at Blackstaff is survival training. The students are released into nature and told to fend for themselves, summon food and water or use their magic to otherwise make some, to create shelter, to prove that in practice they can manage a bad situation. The teachers are nearby, of course, to help should something go wrong. However, at this point, teachers feel one of two ways about Gale Dekarios, and that sometimes is a help but frequently is a hinderance. These teachers see this child, and can easily understand that one day he will be a threat to their jobs, their research, their theories. He’s just that good. And some of the teachers get together to make this test akin to the hells for Gale, and he goes off by himself. Waterdeep is surrounded by beautiful golden beaches and stalagmite caves, which are beautiful blessings during the tourist times of year. They are deathtraps during high tide, and the teachers know this, and so does Mystra.

It's pouring by the end of the first day, and Gale does not know where to go. He can heat his closes, and summon food and water, but he is aware of the fact that magical exhaustion is a thing, and that he cannot keep himself dry and warm constantly with magic for the duration of the test. So, when he sees a rainbow will-o-whisp that feels safe, he follows it into the cave. Mystra leads Gale into a shallow grave planted by the Blackstaff teachers, and watches him almost drown. The teachers would have let him drown. They would have let this eleven year old boy get grabbed by the rushing water and dragged to the bottom of a sharply pointed, mud filled cave. At the bottom of that cave is a large hollow tree trunk, and the teachers would have waited for tide season to end, and eventually drug Gale’s tiny corpse out of where it was wrangled around the smooth wood, where Gale had tried to hold in and climb out feebly, crushed by the weight of the water overhead, until the calmness of unconsciousness met him.  

Drowning was calm, for Gale, at first. It was calmest when the rainbow will-o-whisp appeared again, a single speck of bright light in the murky darkness, his eyes stinging with water, his chest and stomach throbbing for oxygen. Drowning was calm, as he felt warm arms wrap around him, and felt the water get expelled from the hollow tree. Gale felt the weave rid his lungs of water and dry him off and warm him. Mystra lead Gale to his death just so she could save him, and so easily, Mystra became an exception to Gale’s distrust of authority, because she taught Elminster. She was the very rush of security and rose and love that Gale felt every time he channeled the weave. Mystra was magic—what Gale was good at, what made Gale who he is, what Gale loved. So how could he not love his savior? His muse? Mystra welcomed him into her hollow tree and taught him of Her. Her world. Her gifts. Her abilities. The three days of the test passed in a blink, and Gale emerged from the cave tinged with blue and white and the teachers who sent Gale to die heard Mystra’s laugh in their ears.

Mystra had staked her claim on Gale, and everyone knew it. Everyone had suspected it, when Elminster kept showing up, but now they had proof. Gale’s magic was sprinkled with starlight, brilliant blue and white and purple of Mystra. Gale vanished in his dreams to visit Mystra in her domain, and she continued to teach him everything that the teachers couldn’t or wouldn’t. The teachers who tried to kill him snapped to attention and did everything they could to help Gale, then, because to not would be to betray the Weave itself.

Gale went back to the hollow tree when he was about to graduate and the tide lowered, and met Mystra again. She took a more physical form, then. She guided his hands and arms as she taught him magic, and she kissed him on the forehead. She whispered, “my child, my star, my boy, my prodigy,” and Gale fell further and further under her spell. The Blackstaff Academy had graduation ceremonies where everyone would dance and celebrate their victories with one another. Morena was so, so proud. A few Lords showed up to congratulate the students, and check on the fresh talent. Gale was the equivalent of the valedictorian, and when he danced with himself, the more learned students and the teachers and Tara could see the strings of Mystra’s weave manipulating his movements like a marionette until they were perfect. Because he was her’s, and she would settle for nothing but the best.

[buggywiththefolkmagic]

Personal Do Not Read Witchy Author List

There will be a google doc with updates as I find more authors to avoid. These are all my own personal opinion and I do take the author's actions into account when judging their ability to write legitimate information.

TW: Slavery, serial killers, racism, TERFs, creeps, neonazis, asylums, and a slew of other super unsavory things. I tried to make this list as PG as possible while highlighting the issues with these individual people. 

*Alestier Crowley. *

   He's a literal piece of garbage. Misogynistic, thief of a toooon of closed practices, has entire cults still dedicated to him, called himself a voice of God (both Abrahamic and apparently like 5 Egyptian deities??? I mean excuse me sir how about no??) He also declared himself ‘above’ Gods back in 1922 calling himself Ipssissimus. I hate Crowley so much I have literally stuck a picture of him to a dartboard before. He can suck an egg in the afterlife. He also put his own wife in an asylum for 'alcoholism’ because she wanted a divorce. The only thing he ever did right was get kicked down a flight of stairs at a temple once by a poet.

*Anastasia Greywolf*

   Appropriates at least Jewish practices if not every Indigenous practice there is. Wholeheartedly encourages people to use magic instead of going to a doctor for things like oh I dunno EPILEPSY And claims she has spells for like Marvel-level super powers which uh no Ana. You don't. Lots of Christianity for a supposedly FULL pagan and wiccan author. Her spells are all controlled like...so wrong. So, so wrong. Don't ask please. I can't begin to describe it. Advocates for smudging and uses phrases like "Cherokee Rituals", and the Romani G-slur. 

*Gerald Gardner*

   Made his own branch of wicca, the first technically, and his own coven had to make rules just so he wouldn't spill everything to any reporter that asked. Used Crowley as a main resource.

*Jason Miller*

   Claims to do Hoodoo. A horrible formatter, and generally super dismissive of being a rootworker and other potentially closed practices, has not been initiated. Has claimed that anyone can petition/pray to Papa Legba without initiation because "Vodou is a congregational religion/practice". From the Vodou and Haitian Vodou practitioners I have talked to that is VERY incorrect, it may be congregational but you still have to be involved in the community to be trusted with those practices because so much of it has been bastardized for media and racism purposes. He is also a student of Catherine Yronwode, who is another SUPER problematic figure in the Hoodoo/Rootwork community.  

 A link of his own words on culture appropriation which includes mild inaccuracy towards Indiginous Peoples and that they don’t ‘own’ certain practices when it’s very clear the wording of those practices DOES in fact come from those peoples. He’s fine with people being Yogis, or Shamans, or calling satchel spells mojo bags, and other such phrases and won’t correct people if they use such words out of context because “language changes”. Also says if someone within a practice says it’s closed to go to ANOTHER AND ANOTHER until you find someone willing to teach you??? That’s not how it works sir.

Source: https://www.strategicsorcery.net/on-cultural-misappropriation/

*Lisa Chamberlain*

   Not an actual person. This is a ghost writer name for a bunch of garbage literally copy and pasted from wikipedia into books. I wish I was kidding. 

*Lisa Leister/Lester/whatever other spelling she's used.*

   Such a major TERF. Like JK Rowling level TERF. Claims magic comes from a womb so anybody that doesn't have one isn't a real witch. Like WTF lady.

*Raymond Buckland*

  Where to start...uses the G-slur often. (His grandfather was romani so it blurs the line of blood quantum.)  Very sexist and obsessed with the idea of a woman getting uh...undressed for rituals while men stay dressed and more things I cannot say ina PG space??? As magic?? VERY anti-minor and LGBTQA+. Toxic, just plain toxic. Can't do it. I have read his Blue Book and it's the least problematic thing he wrote. I'm alright with it.

*Silver Ravenwolf*   WhOOO boy. So super anti-christian, which is fine and dandy...if you didn't claim to be in a lineage of braucherei/hexerei. Wiccan, like the type of wiccan that says no other witchcraft exists and yet has written folk magic books??? She really needs to make up her mind. Claims Satanists don't actually exist. Claims most Jewish powers worshiped "the Goddess" (whoever that is)??? Very cult-like language about "not telling friends and family about your new life/reality/experience/whatever". Also SO MUCH APPROPRIATION. SO SO MUCH. She also gets her history wrong, on a lot of basic information that most non-witches know about like say the Salem Witch Trials.

*Catherine Yronwode* Ooh man. So Catherine Yronwode’s career started as a comic book artist. She’s worked on such things like the Elvira comic, DNAgents, and a gaggle of super controversial trading cards which included the Kennedy Assasination, a serial killer collection, and the AIDS epidemic. Of which she was sued for using one half of the Hillside Stranglers duo in said killer trading cards without his permission, the judge sadly threw the case out because and this is a quote, “ If Bianchi had been using his face as a trademark when he was killing women, he would not have tried to hide it from the police.” There were two more from her comic days, but those aren’t super relevant besides the one that pushed the envelope of what sort of trading cards should be sold to children. On the magical side of things, I will be blunt here: As one of the ‘big bads’ of the Rootwork/Folk/Hoodoo community? I really REALLY dislike her. She has made numerous false claims about New Orleans/Haitian Vodou and that it’s only a very recent practice, non-religious, and slaves never used it because it didn’t exist yet??? History books and entire generations will disagree. An example would be this link of an open letter to her written by a New Orleans Voodoo practitioner and someone she wrote a whole article about: https://conjureart.blogspot.com/2013/10/open-letter-to-cat-yronwode-and-lucky.html

She owns a few different websites namely https://www.luckymojo.com/, has written numerous Hoodoo based books, and actively has accused numerous people who have asked her for sources and or disagreed with her of plagiarism and has slung more mud that you can shake a stick at. 

She also praises a book on Marie Laveau and yet discredits herself by calling New Orleans Voodoo a new religion/neopractice??? She’s just confusing as all heck to me.

*Christian Day*   This guy’s just a creep. One stuck in the early 2000s mall goth phase even though he’s over 50. He also appropriates Hoodoo and owns two Hoodoo shops as well as multiple other witch shops in Salem and recently New Orleans on the French Quarter (Which is pure tourist fodder and not a reflection of true New Orleans Voodoo/Vodun/Rootwork). He has also harassed ex-employees so badly it’s landed him in court. His book The Witch’s Book of the Dead also reads very much like a list of accomplishments rather than anything useful. All about his television spots and experiences doing that. (Did I mention he was in an episode of Ghost Adventures? Yes, that one with Zac Bagans??? And it did not make us witches look too great, honestly speaking.)

Sources for Harassment Claims: https://www.cbsnews.com/news/salem-witch-gets-protective-order-against-warlock/

https://www.wcvb.com/article/warlock-christian-day-ordered-to-stay-away-from-salem-witch/8228072

*Yvonne and Gavin Frost*   I dunno how else to say this, I really don’t. These two? Pedophiles. Multiple writings of theirs included not-safe-for-work-or-children rituals that must include minors. Avoid. AVOID AVOID. AVOID ANYONE WHO USES THEM AS A RESOURCE! This should NOT be okay in any circle. They are VERY used within the Wicca religion so please be careful!!

*Orion Foxwood* Some of his information is very sound! I can’t fault him there. He does have a tendency to blend different traditions without actively TELLING you he’s blending them though. He’s and this is a direct quote, “He is a witch and Elder in Romano Celtic-Traditional Craft, High Priest in Alexandrian Wicca and teacher of the Faery Seership tradition. He is also the founding Elder of Foxwood Temple and a primary founder of the Alliance of the Old Religion, a national network of covens in his line that have united to preserve the ways of his Elders. He was the co-director of Moonridge, a center for metaphysical, Craft and Faery studies in Maryland” That’s an awful lot of traditions to juggle and not only write on but actively teach. He also performs conjure, which in of itself might not be an issue but Conjure usually blends into Hoodoo really quickly if one isn’t careful! A lot of the traditions he talks about from his family sound quite familiar, he’s clearly from Appalachia but his books on the subject blend in his other practices instead of keeping them separate. 

*Starr Casas*   She’s in the same category as Orion, only she doesn’t necessarily give her credentials to be teaching Hoodoo, and even wrote a whole book filled with Hoodoo love spells. She also co-owns a French Quarter Conjure Shop, which if you ask any practitioners from New Orleans...is catered to pure tourists and not a true example of the crafts from the area. 

*Shawn Engel*   I’m gonna be blunt here. More appropriation of the Jewish practices, Hoodoo, and other information that is just plain UPG without saying it’s UPG and encourages throwing hexes at political party members solo. I read The Power of Hex and had to put it down numerous times just to gather myself and not throw it away, I don’t know if it was tone or sheer level of appropriation...likely both.

*Kate Freuler*   Of Blood and Bones is chock full of Hoodoo, full stop. Only acknowledges that something comes from Hoodoo once and also gets basic mythology information on the Deities she mentions wrong in some cases. Also a lot of the book seems to be UPG because the bibliography is super small for a 300 page book.

*Dorothy Morrison*   I picked up Utterly Wicked once. A very odd book full of Hoodoo and Vodun spellwork and misinformation, the author is also Garderian Wiccan so even the writing of a book full of hexes is slightly...concerning compared to the Wiccan traditions and redes. Odd is the best I have to describe how I personally feel. I will say this again: Voodoo Dolls are not used to cause pain, stop bastardizing that single aspect of the practice. Thank you.

*Helena Blavatsky*

 I dunno how else to say this either, her philosophy and occult knowledge, called Theosophy is a portion of what inspired Hitler. Pure unadulterated racism veiled in a ‘Atlantian Race Theory”. Horrible stuff, read for a class project once and felt disgusting.

*Christopher Penczak*Whoo boy. On the surface he seems alright, one of the first ‘male’ witches I had ever heard of except for Scott Cunningham. But the more you dig into his work the more inaccuracies and Christian bashing you see. For example: Christianty was the first patriarchal society. Uhm...I believe you’re kinda forgetting the men who ran Rome and Greece there sir. He also fully proposes the ‘burning times’ were like a ‘witch holocaust’. NO! NO IT WAS NOT. You can’t compare the hundreds of years and MAYBE a thousand-ish people dying to the millions that died in the short timespan the Holocaust was a thing. Fuck Christopher for that comparison and also for claiming it was a ‘burning time’ to begin with. (History says that most were hung...or tortured. Burning is a very small number of that list in general. 

He makes a lot of sweeping statements and sees witchcraft as a religion and NOT a practice. He whitewashes, fully harps on the Wicca = witchcraft = religion thing and THEN hones in on the difference between “white and black” magic and how cursing is evil and yet highlights certain practices that actively practice...cursing...as they have for generations??? He (atleast) doesn’t demonize Satanism but does still backhand the idea anyway, that they CAN’T be witches because witches only ‘heal’. Cultural appropriation and fetishization of ‘Native’ practices while calling them primitive all in the same breath, I just can’t with this guy. I really can’t. 

*Amy Blackthorn* 

Owns a tea brand called ‘Blackthorn Hoodoo Blends’ she is white. When questioned by BIPOC individuals she complains and blocks them instead of explaining why she chose the name Hoodoo for just teas. TEA. She is also the author of Blackthorn’s Botanical Magic, Sacred Smoke (A book on smudging yikes on trikes), and Blackthorn’s Protection Magic. 

Proof of blocking: https://thisblackwitch.com/2016/04/01/blackthorn-teas-whose-culture-is-it-anyways/

*Tarl Warwick *

Is more commonly known as Styxhexenhammer666 on youtube and other social media sites. Has written a pile and I mean a PILE of occult based books including ones on Hermetic magic, ritualistic magic, demons, solomon, folk plants and healing, Kabbalah, and many MANY more. 

He makes no claim to being Jewish, and given his political wishy washiness, and multitude of controversies which includes claiming the Holocaust wasn’t ‘that many dead’, Charles Manson deserved release because he was ‘extremely innocent and didn’t kill anyone’, and fairly recently also wrote and published a book on Critical Race Theory and why it’s ‘garbage’. I can’t support him no matter how accurate some of his information may be (if any at all). 

*Temperance Alden* This really pains me to say, Temperance in her Wheel of the Year book made a claim that birth control “stunted her magical abilities” because it affected her hormones…in OTHER words unless you are a perfectly hormone producing WOMAN you don’t have great magical power. AVOID. AVOID. AVOID. That is a slippery slope to claiming medication will harm you, not to mention how TERF-y it is AND completely disregards that magic is for well…everyone. Such a stupid gatekeep-y concept. 

*Sarah Kate Istra/Dver*

Advocates for using ‘spirit animals’ regardless of Indigenous beliefs and concerns. Is also a known ally with the Piety Posse, a neo-nazi group of pagans who claim the term polytheist can only apply to them and if you aren’t a Hellenistic pagan…you aren’t pagan at all. They also advocate for animal sacrifices, blood tests to prove purity, and other horrible HORRIBLE stuff. 

*Sannion/H. Jeremiah Lewis*

Obvious Neo-nazi, keeps images of swastikas on his personal blog, and not the ones that the nazis stole from, the nazi one. And super SUPER transphobic.

*Edward P. Butler*

Major persecution complex, spends half his twitter complaining about how monotheists are destroying…I dunno…everything? Also defends Krasskova quite heavily. Antisemetic as well.

*Galina Krasskova*

Hellenic pagans watch out. Defends the AFA. A ringleader of the Piety Posse. There’s a lot more horrific stuff about her and I won’t go into extreme details. But TW: Romanticizes SA with deities, human sacrifice, animal sacrifice. Compares debating to the holocaust, lots of victim blaming, gatekeeping, and screams folkish. 

*Diana Cooper*

Racist. Hard stop. Also appropriates chakras. Has a weird belief that food controls skin color and that Africa will never be a good country because it’s the solar plexus of the universe…or something like that. I got 20 pages into the book and literally couldn’t go any farther. Did I mention this book was supposedly on dragons???

*Judika Iiles* So much appropriation, advocates for making altars and working with closed deities. Lots of incorrect information including dangerous spellwork like obsession spells. And one in particular that has roots in a racist stereotypes. Avoid please! 

[raes-writing-space]

Obey Me! Satan x Reader *Learning Disability Comfort*

Warnings: Mentions of learning disabilities, and former gifted child syndrome. Not beta read.

Summary: You used to be great with academics when you were younger, and maybe in some subjects you still are just as good. But now that you're older and in a completely new academic environment, no one but Satan sees how you struggle to study, and stress yourself out to the point of crying when the words on the page seem to get jumbled up and not make sense to you. Satan helps you take a break, then helps make the studying process a little bit easier.

Word Count: 1, 217

A/N: I mostly took after reading learning disabilities, as someone with a reading and writing learning disability (despite how much I love doing both.) It can be read as platonic or a bit romantic if you'd like but it's left rather ambiguous. I just want Satan to read to me man.

Learning magic and how to control your abilities was something you'd never believed you would be doing. Arriving as an exchange student to a completely new world meant that you had to adapt to practically an entire new lifestyle and culture, and that included the academics. At first things were a little rough, but as you got more pacts and guidance from both the demon brothers and Solomon, you were at least able to pick up enough to protect yourself from the many situations you found yourself in since arriving in the Devildom. However, when it came down to the actual classes, that's where you started to struggle. Trying to not only read and understand, but to then apply it to your magic, tripped you up a lot more than you'd like to admit. It was hard enough to try and read what was being taught, some of these words you had never heard of before, and some of it was quite ancient in it's texts. Words on a normal textbook seemed to jumble up inside your mind already, but now looking at words that already looked pretty jumbled up just made it worse. Still, you were managing to pass your classes, but even that was do to the fact that you can at least show what you've learned instead of having to explain how you learned it. Solomon would help you study from time to time or better explain what exactly the text was trying to describe, but he wasn't there all the time. Not like how the brothers were, as you lived with them in the House of Lamentation. Satan and Lucifer were the most observant to your studying habits and struggles, but Lucifer already had Mammon to worry about. Besides, Lucifer figured that you were at least studying and making the effort to try and keep your grades up, so he figured he wouldn't worry about the specifics on how it was achieved. Maybe humans just learned much differently, and it wasn't as if you knew what you were going to be thrown into when you arrived. Except you weren't always like this, struggling to study in the way that you did. You always had really high marks when you were younger, and it felt like back then learning and studying was just so natural for you. It wasn't until you started getting older than you've seen yourself start to decline. At first you just wanted to believe it was because the academic classes themselves were getting harder, of course they would, you were learning about more advanced things so that brought a challenge. But over time, even basic things that you had learned years ago and excelled out, suddenly became difficult for you too. When you were young you used to read at much higher levels than other peers your age, but now you struggle to read books that cater to your age and demographic. At one point in your life, you thought you'd be more like Satan, reading things just for pleasure and not because he had to. But now, you can't even remember the last book you read just because you wanted to. It made you frustrated, as you grew up with a different standard than you were at now, what happened? What changed? Some days you felt as if you were an fraud, and convinced a lot of people you were academically gifted when really, maybe you weren't. It all seemed to be crashing down one particular night. You had a test coming up in a couple of days, and you felt like you were no closer to getting to where you needed to be. It didn't matter how many times you read it, there was just something not clicking with you. The boys had all went to do their own things after dinner, but you went to the library to study. Tears had started to well up in your eyes at the thought of failing this test, when you were doing so well up until this point.

"If it helps, I created a study guide with a main points that would be on the test." Satan spoke up, as he saw the textbook that you had been studying.

You looked up at him, and he gave a sympathetic smile when he finally saw the tears running down your cheeks. He grabbed a tissue from the box on the nearby table, and took a seat next to you. While it was nice knowing that he was willing to help, it still didn't exactly help you feel any less stupid.

"Let me help you, what are you struggling with?" He asked, wanting to make it at least a little easier for you somehow. "Everything, it seems." You answered at first, it wasn't exactly a wrong answer, but Satan could tell you weren't giving yourself enough credit, either.

After taking a breath, you try your best to explain your issues. Satan listened, trying to piece together what he had the actual ability to help with you. After he let you vent out your struggles, he paused for a moment to think.

"How do you do when the teacher is lecturing?" He then questioned. "Definitely better than just reading it myself, as long as I can also look at the text alongside it." "Then, how about I grab my own textbook and read it to you?" Satan suggested with a smile. "You'd do that for me?" You couldn't help but question him in return.

"Of course, I might not completely understand all that you're going through. But, I know I don't want to see you cry." Satan reached to gently cup your cheek, as he rubbed his thumb across your cheek, wiping a stray tear away. The sentiment made you smile.

"I really appreciate you helping me… Ever since arriving here, I've been so interested in the subjects, but I find reading for them a bit difficult." You confessed. "If you'd like, I could find the time to record myself reading a couple of the upcoming chapters. Since I typically like getting a head start on the material anyway."

"I don't want to inconvenience you…" You spoke honestly, it was an incredibly thoughtful gesture. "Nonsense, it would benefit us both by studying. Besides, I know how hard you're working to learn and pass these classes. I know you're intelligent, you just have to study differently, is all. If I could help with that, then please, allow me to help you." Satan reasoned with you, as you thought about it before nodding your head in agreement.

"Thank you, for being so understanding about this and helping me. I really do appreciate you." You leaned forward, wrapping your arms around him in a hug which he reciprocated.

When you pulled away, Satan seemed to scan over your features as he gave a soft smile. Part of you suspected that he would say something else, or even thank you in return, but he said nothing else. However, his actions said enough, as he gently brushed his fingers just behind your ear, down your jawline, before returning to his lap. The action left you feeling lighter somehow. As he went to stand to retrieve his own textbook, you thought of different ways that you could thank him.

[wrengrif]

You know what we haven't done for awhile?

That's right. It's WHAT IF time.

Okay, but let me preface this What If with saying, I don't believe in the coffee theory. That it was poisoned or held some mystical juice or whatever. I believe Aziraphale went to Heaven because one, he really didn't have a choice and two, he thinks there is some way to really turn Heaven around. To make it an actual Good Place.

However ... I have read some compelling theories lately about not taking the Final Fifteen at face value and I got to say, it's gotten me to wondering.

I keep coming back to Neil and the other Good Omen creators saying, nothing in the story is accidental. Which got me thinking about themes. Themes that interwoven all throughout Season 2, emphasized in the background. One of the main themes was, in fact, subterfuge.

Hiding Gabriel from Heaven and Hell.

Saving Job's children.

The bullet catch, the photograph, the 'magical words' caught being lipped through a shop window.

Even Edinburgh, where they pulled a couple of flim-flams on the surgeon and on Elspeth. If Season One was about the power of them coming together, Season Two was about their ability to out-smart both Heaven and Hell on multiple occasions. Not always perfectly, as seen by Crowley getting dragged back down to Hell, or in fact the entire Armageddon plan.

The point is though, that Crowley and Aziraphale are old hands at subterfuge. They were able to carry on a friendship, for over 6000 years, without getting caught by Heaven or Hell (note, I don't think they pulled a fast one on God. I'm pretty sure She knows and she's all for it. Number one shipper, Her.) They trust each other, implicitly.

So, when the Final Fifteen happened ... how are we to know that they weren't already communicating on an entirely different level? What they said, I have no real proof. However, I do think that Crowley and Aziraphale perhaps knew, from the get-go, that they were saying good-bye to one another. That Aziraphale was going to try and fix the problem from the inside, not Heaven itself per say, but the issue of them finally being free of Heaven and Hell so they could be together.

The whole fight was Crowley not arguing with Aziraphale about 'taking a new job', but instead about Aziraphale going alone. Begging Aziraphale not to go into the lion's den, that they could figure out a different way together, there, on Earth. Escape the Metatron, regroup, make up a plan. Aziraphale knew, though, that they were being watched and there was no way for them to get out of the Bookshop without both being destroyed. They went through the motions of fighting about one thing, while fighting about something else entirely.

They nearly made it through the whole fight within a fight, until Crowley cracked. He was scared he'd never see Aziraphale again and he had to let his angel know how he felt. Thus, The Kiss. The desperate, 'I love you, don't do this, don't leave me' kiss. Aziraphale kissed back, half-apology, half-confession, 'I love you too, I have to, they'll kill you'. When he pulls back he's mouthing, 'do it again', and he nearly says 'I love you', but says 'I forgive you'. Perhaps, I forgive you for making this even harder for me.

Crowley's mad, to be sure, but he plays it to the hilt. 'Don't bother'. 'No nightingales', perhaps code letting Aziraphale know not to to contact him until they knew it was safe, really safe. He walks out the door and then stands by The Bentley. Another message letting Aziraphale know he'll be there, on Earth, waiting. Aziraphale pausing, perhaps mouthing, 'Trust me', before disappearing into the elevator with the Metatron.

Honestly, this is all conjecture, but What If? What if they're already playing Nefertiti and the three shell game? Look here, at Aziraphale, but don't look over here, to see what Crowley is doing. Magic! Smoke and mirrors!

Aim for my mouth, but shoot past my ear.

What if?

(Note, NO ONE SHARE THIS WITH NEIL GAIMAN. This is just brain thoughts. Leave the man to his creative process and don't fuck with him.)

[tiny-wooden-robot-fics]

Onset - Chapter Two.

Rating: Explicit Media: Jujutsu Kaisen/JJK Pairing: Geto Suguru x Original Female Character Characters: Geto Suguru, Valerie (OC) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Not Canon Compliant, Pre-Established Friendship, Geto and OC are roommates, Self-Insert, Smut, Penis in Vagina Sex, Creampie, Brief mention of an inability to get pregnant, Unprotected Sex, Cunnilingus, if I tagged everything we’d be here all day, This is part of a series

Part 3 of Sundane

Previous Part: Egg Fried Rice

Previous Chapter: One

Summary:

He isn’t expecting her to throw his earlier words back at him that way, and it catches him off-guard. “Why do you always remember the dumb shit I say?”

“Was it dumb?”

“It wasn’t absolute,” he mumbles. He pauses, knowing that if he says what he wants to say next, he’ll kick himself for it.

He says it anyway. “Sometimes one slips through the cracks, you know,” he adds softly. “Sometimes, there’s one that really is special.”

Read on AO3

“I’m sorry about what I said.”

She’s started to doze off when he says it, and it takes her sluggish, sated brain a few seconds to catch up with her ears. “What?” 

Shit. He’s torn between two feelings. The first is annoyance that she hasn’t somehow magically read his mind and figured out what he’s apologizing for. He doesn’t want to have to explain himself. He wants her to know why he’s sorry, so they can move past it and forget it happened.

The second, more prominent feeling is that pang of guilt that’s resurfaced, sticking in his side and reminding him that he actually does owe her an apology for what he said earlier. He once again pushes that pang of guilt back into the abyss, but the residual feelings that linger leave him wanting to clear the air. “What I said earlier,” he sighs. “About you not being able to get pregnant. I know it’s a sore spot for you.”

“It doesn’t matter,” she says with a shrug. “It’s not like you to feel sympathy for something like that, and it isn’t something other people care about either.”

He lifts his head from her stomach to look up at her. She’s smiling, but he gets the feeling it’s because she thinks she should be. “You wanna talk about it?”

Her fingers pause in their movement in his hair as she considers his face. His expression is open, non-judgmental, as if meant to make her feel like she can continue talking about this if she wants to. Part of her wants to spill everything - to tell him these feelings that she’s never shared with anyone else. But part of her feels like talking about this with Suguru would be like opening a door she won’t ever be able to close again. 

She is still contemplating opening that door when she feels the soft warmth of Suguru’s lips against her skin. It’s a gentle kiss on her hip, and she thinks it feels a little like encouragement.

“Well,” she starts softly, resuming her gentle strokes through his hair. “You’re right, it’s a sore spot. The thing itself is something that I know I’ll have to live with for the rest of my life, and I can deal with it. But whenever people find out, they only ever acknowledge the thing itself. They don’t acknowledge all the complicated feelings that come with it. 

“It isn’t a choice I wanted to make,” she goes on. “And if I’d had the ability to choose otherwise, I would have. People who have gotten to choose - and who still can - don’t seem to understand that. So when they say things like ‘you’re not missing anything’ and ‘you’re lucky you still have your freedom,’ it just ends up feeling like… like they’re invalidating how I really feel and telling me how they think I should feel instead.” She pauses. “Enjoying the life that I have now and feeling like I’m missing out on that thing I can’t have aren’t mutually exclusive, you know?”

“I get it,” Suguru muses. “Kinda like somebody who insinuates you should be relieved that your chronically ill parent has finally died. Like, yeah, taking care of them and being worried all the time while they’re alive and sick is stressful and emotionally draining. But it doesn’t mean you want them to die, and it doesn’t mean you don’t miss them when they do.”

Stunned, she stares down at him. “Huh. Actually, yeah. That’s a pretty accurate comparison.”

Suguru is quiet for a long time. When he finally speaks, it isn’t to tease her or to make fun of what she’s told him. “Now that I know how you really feel about it,” he starts quietly, “I don’t think it’s something I could ever joke about. And I’m doubly sorry for making light of it before.”

She hates that there’s a lump in her throat, and so she speaks before that lump can manifest itself in tears. “Why are you being so sweet to me?”

“I told you I was giving you the princess treatment today.”

“Right,” she recalls. “It doesn’t hurt to make them feel special, even if they’re not. That’s what you said.” 

He isn’t expecting her to throw his earlier words back at him that way, and it catches him off-guard. “Why do you always remember the dumb shit I say?”

“Was it dumb?”

“It wasn’t absolute,” he mumbles. He pauses, knowing that if he says what he wants to say next, he’ll kick himself for it. 

He says it anyway. “Sometimes one slips through the cracks, you know,” he adds softly. “Sometimes, there’s one that really is special.”

His words hit her right in her chest, hard enough to make her take a deep breath. It’s on the tip of her tongue to ask - am I special? She bites the words back, unsure if she’d even want to know the answer. 

“Come on,” Suguru says, when it’s clear she isn’t going to speak. He sits up, taking hold of her hands.

“Where are we going?”

“You’re gonna wait for me in the shower while I change your sheets,” he tells her, pulling her up into a sitting position. “Unless you wanna sleep in a bed full of my sweat and cum,” he adds with a smirk. “Some people have a thing for that.”

“Wait for you?” She repeats, choosing to ignore the latter part of what he’s said. She lets him pull her off of the bed, lets him maneuver his rumpled shirt over her head so she can have something to give her a bit of warmth and some semblance of decency. 

Suguru himself doesn’t seem to care about warmth or decency as he begins stripping the bed of its sheets in only his skin. “Mmhm,” he murmurs patiently, pausing to push her in the direction of the bathroom on the other side of her bedroom. “I won’t be long. Run the water, yeah? Make sure it’s warm, and I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

Stop reading into it, she scolds herself. This is all routine for him. “Right,” she laughs. “It always takes at least ten minutes for it to get hot.”

He makes an affirming noise and turns his attention back to the bed. She stands there for a moment longer - enjoying the view, she would say if anyone asks her - before turning away. 

--

He finds her in the bathroom a few minutes later. “Is it hot?” He nods in the direction of the shower. 

“Yeah.” She’s feeling suddenly awkward, ridiculously bashful. “Do you want to go first, or should I?”

Puzzled, Suguru looks back at her. “If I wanted separate showers, I would’ve just showered in my own bathroom,” he points out. “I told you to wait for me so we could go in together,” he adds, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world for the two of them to co-shower. 

“I know how to bathe myself,” she retorts. “I’m not a kid.”

“Good, because I don’t fuck kids,” he snickers. “What I do do, however, is make sure the adults I fuck are well-taken care of. Both in bed and outside of it,” he adds, tilting his head and leaning close so he can look her directly in the eye. “So you can either climb into the shower yourself, or I can lift you up and put you there. Whatever you like.”

She stays where she is long enough to say, “You said doodoo.” 

His palm just misses her ass as she scurries away. 

--

Showering is a functional thing; she knows that it’s meant to serve the purpose of getting a body clean. Even though she’s taken showers with lovers before (should she think of Suguru as a lover? While it’s true that they’ve had sex, she is hesitant to bestow that title on him just yet), she has never viewed anything about the act of showering in itself as sexy.

But she would be hard-pressed to deny that there is something incredibly erotic about the way her roommate-turned-bedfellow handles her in the shower. His touch is gentle, her washcloth an extension of his hands as he bathes her. Nothing that he does is designed to arouse her, but she finds herself marveling at how the way he’s touching her feels almost more intimate than what they’ve just done in her bed.

“You’re good at this,” she tells him, raising her voice slightly to be heard over the steady stream of water coming out of both showerheads. 

“I know,” he asserts, a smug expression on his face. “Aren’t you glad you waited for me?”

She leans forward, sinking her teeth into one of his pectorals. It isn’t meant to hurt, just to shut him up, and he yelps. Satisfied, she leans back to look at the faint little bite marks left behind.

“Haven’t you marked me up enough?” He grouses.

“I could say the same about you,” she shoots back. “It’s a good thing I wasn’t planning on wearing anything low-cut to work tomorrow.” 

“Dummy,” he laughs, reaching for the washcloth he’d brought in for himself. “You work from home. Who would see you anyway?”

She shrugs. “Zooms are still a thing, you know.” She watches him pour her peony-scented body wash onto his washcloth. “You’re gonna smell like me,” she warns.

“Where am I going that anybody would care? You like it enough to have it, and you’re the only one who’s gonna smell me.”

“Good point.” She watches him lather himself up for a few minutes longer. Then, “Let me help.”

He obliges her. When she gets to his back, she pauses. The scratches weren’t enough to draw blood, but she can see that she did end up breaking the skin in a few places. She’s careful when washing those spots, trying to emulate the gentle way he’d cleaned her. 

Suguru goes quiet for the duration of the time they’re in the shower, and she wonders what he’s thinking about.

--

“I don’t need that,” he protests, keeping his elbow raised to block her approach. 

“It takes six seconds for your skin to dry out once you’ve washed your face.” She’s brandishing one of her high-end skincare products like a weapon. “You should at least moisturize it.” 

“I don’t need it,” he repeats stubbornly.

“I beg to differ,” she sighs. “You may not see the difference right now, but you will in five or ten years.” 

He rolls his eyes at her but says nothing. Nor does he lower his arm.

“Suguru,” she huffs, exasperated. “You can’t expect to pamper me and not let me do the same for you.”

He looks down at her. “Is that what this is?” He motions to the bottle of moisturizer in her hand. “Is this your version of aftercare?”

“If I say yes, will you let me put it on you?”

She thinks he’s going to say no again. To her mild shock and utter delight, he lowers his defense arm and sits obediently on the closed toilet lid. “Fine,” he assents. “But just this once.”

“That’s what they all say,” she grins. “I’ll have you hooked on Dermalogica in no time.”

She treats his skin exactly the way she’s treated her own post-cleanse: toner, moisturizer, eye cream, and serum. She applies each product carefully, her touch gentle as she uses the pads of her fingers to massage the liquids and creams into his skin. 

“You do this every night?” He asks when she’s done, watching her line the bottles back up in the organizer on her vanity.

“Yep,” she tells him, her attention focused on what she’s doing. “Morning has a slightly different routine.”

He’s still sitting on the closed toilet lid. She’s within reach, straightening the other bottles and tubes in her organizer. It would be so easy to wrap his arm around her waist and bring her nearer to him, to pull her down into his lap. To cradle her close so he can breathe in the smell of her hair and feel her soft skin against his once more. So he can register her heart beating against his chest and put one hand against her back to feel her breathing.

His hand actually twitches with the urge. Shit, he thinks, as he balls the hand into a fist. What the fuck is wrong with me?

--

Valerie finds it curious, the way they’ve picked right back up where they left off, like slipping on a pair of well-worn pants. Suguru takes out the leftover fried rice that they’d had the presence of mind to put in the fridge and dumps it into a pan for reheating while she scrolls through their shared streaming apps to find something they can watch while they eat.

She’s been sure that it would feel awkward to spend time together the way they normally do after what’s transpired between them. If it weren’t for the soreness in her legs and the burgeoning love bites on her neck and chest, she would wonder if what they did was simply a figment of her imagination. Just further proof you are not one of the special ones, her brain reminds her, unsolicited. You never are, remember?

“Shut up,” she mutters back at it.

“What was that?” Suguru calls from the kitchen. “Couldn’t hear you.”

“I was just asking what you’re in the mood to watch,” she calls back.

“Pick whatever you want. All that stuff in the community queues is stuff we both wanted to watch, so it doesn’t really matter to me.”

She finally settles on a lighthearted comedy they’ve both watched before. It’s an old favorite and one that doesn’t require their full attention to follow. He seems pleased with what she’s chosen when he finally joins her, handing her a bowl and a spoon and settling next to her with his own food. 

Halfway through the third episode, she mutters, “I usually put on my headphones, you know.” 

Suguru turns to look at her, amused. “Is this a conversation I’m invited to join, or should I leave the room and let you continue?” He asks, pausing the show.

“I was talking to you,” she sighs. “You asked me - earlier - if I was gonna pretend I’ve never heard you jerking off.” She shrugs, fiddling with the blanket in her lap. “I have, but whenever I know you are, I just put my noise cancelers on for a while.”

“Why?”

She stares at him. “Because that’s private. It’s not something I should listen to.” 

“Maybe not.” He laughs. “But are you saying you wanted to?”

“Suguru.”

“What? It’s a fair question, isn’t it?” He shifts on the sofa, turning to face her full-on. 

“Actually, it isn’t,” she huffs with a laugh. 

“Can’t be that you’re embarrassed,” he goes on. He leans forward, a teasing smirk on his face and his eyes trained on hers. “You let me put a part of my body inside yours. Actually,” he amends thoughtfully, “I’ve had several parts of my body inside yours.” 

“You get on my damn nerves.” She snatches both bowls up and gets up to carry them into the kitchen. 

Of course he follows her. “You still didn’t say yes or no,” he insists. 

Valerie turns to him, offering him her sweetest smile. “It will be a cold day in hell before I do that, Suguru.” 

“Hmm.” He leans back against the counter with his arms crossed over his chest, watching her load the dirty dishes into the dishwasher. “I think the fact that you refuse to answer me is probably an answer within itself.”

“Fuck off.”

It only makes him laugh. “Fine,” he says finally. “You don’t have to tell me. But until you say otherwise, I’m just gonna assume the answer is yes.” 

Once again there are words threatening to escape her; she wants to tell him that he’s right, that she does want to hear him jerking himself off. But more than that, she wants it to be her he’s thinking of when he wraps his hand around himself and thrusts into his fist. She wants it to be her face he’s seeing when he closes his eyes, when he’s putting himself in danger of going lightheaded because it feels so good he’s forgetting to breathe. 

She says none of those things. “Keep dreaming,” she says, flashing him another sweet smile. “Let’s go - the tv’s probably timed out on us.” 

Something unreadable passes across his face, too quick for her to identify it. After the split second that she sees it, he smiles casually back at her, and whatever was beneath the mask he now wears is lost forever. “Yeah.”

About Me | My Fics | Ask

[wikimb]

Devil Trigger 3.0 for Michael!

A 3rd attempt at designing his DT since 2021 when I made Michael (or rather revived and remade/fleshed out his character from a DMC fanfiction written in 2019...).

I could explain in length the ideas behind this DT, why such a theme, why so... tall. The ramble includes serious explanation of the origins of demonic powers he has as well. If you like to read about it then just check what's under the cut.

Below you have some drawings of his face and also his brother's (name's Gabriel) reaction to his DT form. Michael was more scared of Gabriel's reaction than he actually was and the relief he felt was quite overwhelming.

More in depth below. It includes links to the 2 older versions of his DT for fun comparison.

The theme of his DT is very birdy. The first time I designed his DT it was rather heavily inspired by pre-existing DT designs of our main characters. Nothing wrong with it but it didn't stand out and I also never really vibed with it. It didn't help that I had no experience with any kind of monster design to begin with. I still kinda don't but I can see I got slightly better seeing the 3rd version of his DT. You can check my 1st and 2nd attempts here.

Anyway there are a bit more specific reasons why it's so birdy-looking or angelic-looking (and not just because of his name). Michael was born a human in a family, which was never exposed to anything demon-related. They didn't know demons existed (to a degree... when it comes to his father but I think that'd deserve a separate post as his backstory is a bit wild and how it affected Michael in the end).

As a teenager he got lured into a cult and manipulated into abandoning his family eventually. He didn’t know how evil the cult was and didn't even realize they were a cult to begin with.

It was a cult worshipping Mundus with a leader being one his generals. Her name was Lilith and she was great at making Michael feel that she truly cared for him like a mother figure. She manipulated him into believing his family didn't care for him. Sadly, it was all a game and ever since he escaped the cult, he deals with a lot of guilt and regret. He is not sure if they're even still alive... and if they're dead... what if it's his fault?

The cult's purpose was to turn humans into demons, who would serve Mundus. To ensure that they were forced to undergo a ritual stripping them of all of their humanity, their human personality and replace all of that with Mundus overwhelming power. The power, which was great but taking away all of their free will they could have. These people were technically demons at this point. If the ritual failed then it was usually fatal. Thing is, the ritual was a stolen concept from the time when Lilith infiltrated Fortuna's Order of the Sword. In a way she influenced Agnus to come up with such a ritual, then she took the idea and modified it a bit.

Michael's case could be qualified as a failed ritual after, which he should have died but the amount of demonic power he received was not big enough to kill him (because human body would be able not to handle more) but instead keep him alive. And as a result it continued transforming/mutating him into a demon-hybrid like Dante or Vergil, but artificial.

Even if using demoning powers was causing various unpleasant side effects for him but with each use, it hurt less and less. He was reluctant to use his powers actively, fearing that they could make him loose his humanity. He still used the passive abilities such as sensing demon magic.

After certain events he unlocked his Devil Trigger. As a side note I do have 2 ideas for what these moments were but for now I am not sure which one is better.

Anyway, yes, Michael underwent a modified version of Ascension Ceremony! That's why he has such an angelic look, just like the guys from Fortuna. The demonic powers are originating from Mundus but failed to take away his free will, his personality, his humanity, his memories. In other words, he is the same like before - just juiced up with Mundus power (which he is afraid to use anyway). Certainly a result which a Demon Lord would actually hate to find out about as it has a potential to backfire. Not like he has to "worry" about three Sparda descendants already. But if you saw Mundus himself, he also looks rather angelic too. Or at least that "statue form" if that orange weird blob is meant to be really him.

Compared to DTs already seen, he is quite massive. I think it can be simply a feature of Mundus power, in which Devil Trigger state makes one much larger than in human form. Mundus is a titan-sized demon himself, while Sparda was shown to be rather human sized. Heh, maybe if Michael had Sin Devil Trigger form then he could be Mundus-sized.

Though, Michael has the ability to go Berserk (but it's not controlled by his will and it triggers under strong distress), which enhances his power in human form and in DT form. It manifests as blue fire instead of orange fire. Maybe Berserk DT can get this big maybe. Could wrestle demons like Goliath then xD