#this doesn’t deserve so much thought but i’m being deranged about it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dadkisser15 · 11 days

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More thoughts …… ❕

Yap yap yappp!!!!

Falling in love is such an amazing experience, i believe everyone deserves to experience it.

(Well people who experience romantic attraction and stuff like that..)

Like it’s always going to be different obviously because no one’s style of love or personality is the same and I despise people who believe stuff like “I could find someone JUST like you.”, like me personally, I’ve never had anyone saying that shit to be but it’s just the fact people ACTUALLY say things like that is insane to me like no!!! You’re wrong !!!! First of all it just feels so shallow and mean to compare people like that, like what the flip.. they’re their own person!! I knew this one guy who would put the women he spoke with / had relationships with in categories and OH BOY 😭 this shit was actually ridiculous. Like he brought up “hello kitty girls” to me and at first I’m like .. bitch what the fuck is a hello kitty girl? And he goes on yapping about how “Gosh, hello kitty girls are all crazy bitches ☝️🤓” and yeah maybe he could be right about that generalization that all women that have that common interests are a bit deranged but when i mentioned the fact to him that im a HOE that loves hello kitty he’s like “.. oh well you aren’t as bad tho .! 🤯” and I don’t say it to him obviously but I’m like no shit this is why you don’t just put the people you date in groups because no one will EVER be the exact same. Like maybe they’ll have similar features or personality traits but I don’t think you SHOULD just smush them all into a category. Oh and that guy was SO fucking annoying and that conversation wasn’t even a surprise coming from him because he loved speaking about his past partners with me even when he was like fully aware I had a thing for him! ! Like around the time period when we had that conversation I was fully over him and gosh he was like dragging that conversation out of me. Sorry, I kinda went on a rant on that guy but I just see this shit everywhere, guys just putting women into categories; LIKE SOMEBODY HELP MEE WHAT THE FUCK IS A HELLO KITTY GIRL. Like that shit sounds so dumb just say you like crazy people instead of associating something like that with it, it just doesn’t make any sense to me.

Uhmm onto a more positive note, I’d say I’m infatuated! I’ve been YEARNING for this man for like a good 7/6 months and we only got close recently.. like the first couple of months I just thought about him a lot and I was like oh that’s nothing weird cause at the time our friend group was going through a patch; it was really fucking dumb and they shunned him away instead of DISCUSSING the issue like normal people, like whatever you don’t like confrontation but the least you could do was actually NOTIFY him on who he upset so he doesn’t do it again?? Like I was actually discussing this with him the other day and we both laughed at how dumb the whole thing was cause like I had to EXPLAIN to him what he did wrong since literally no one brought the issue up with him. (😭) It was genuinely infuriating to see these people who were MUCH OLDER than us act this way, like you’d think at their grown age they would have the brain capacity and problem solving skills to resolve issues like that. (I guess nawwwt 🤤) Anyways, for that entire month he was excluded from that sorry ass group I missed him likeee crazy and I was like UHM yeah that’s normal because he’s a cool guy and who wouldn’t miss a cool guy… BUT STILL LIKE THE WHOLE SITUATION WAS SOOO DUMB AND I MISSED HIM SO BAD. Like I know I said this section was going to be positive but I was reminded of that and omg I should’ve just cussed everyone out for being actual dumbasses. I didn’t even talk to him at all during that time because I was too shy and nervous to speak with him outside a group setting and I never knew whyyy since I was able to do that with anyone else FINE. I mean he does have a strong attitude and he can be quite mean at times so I was a bit scared to approach him for a while OH AND OMG GUYS, while we we’re talking about this he used to assume I hated him!!!!??? Like NO, quite the opposite 😭 like our mutual friend (the friend I met him through) used to show me all of these funny clips he had with him while they used to game together and this was like WAY BEFORE I MET HIM TOO and even then I was like a little fan of him; but I can understand why he thought that, I would get really quiet around him and just generally really awkward. Like honestly I was just scared to make myself look stupid in front of someone who I thought was cool, doesn’t even matter anyways because I embarrassed myself constantly while talking to him; like earlier I was reminiscing on our conversation from the night(s) prior and god I could punch myself… I always do and say dumb shit when I speak with him like he just DOES sometimes funny to me. Like even normal stuff I shouldn’t feel shy about I just can’t get it out like my face is always burning up when he’s HERE LIKE AUGHHH MAKE IT STOP !!!!!! I need to function like a normal person. Honestly I’m so cooked man. I’ve spoken to one of my friends about my little infatuation and he being like most people told me that “oh you never know!! He could like you too!” And I don’t want to doubt my friends or anything but after my previous experiences with stuff like this I’m genuinely so scared to be forward about my feelings and even test the idea of him reciprocating. Like anytime he says or does something that leads me to believe that he kinda has a thing for me I IMMEDIATELY push the idea out and not to be a negative Nancy but I feel like he could never like me romantically; partially because of my looks and my odd personality traits and habits. Normally, I like to be optimistic about stuff but I just have so much fear and doubt when it comes to stuff like this but I know deep down in my head I have some hope that he could like me back like as much as I push all of that down I still fantasize about how we would be together and I’m sure most people do that shit anyways. Unless he says he likes me straight up I refuse to even try.. like I tried joking flirting (?) with him the other day but I could not get it out because of how I’m just STUCK on this belief and it took so much out of me to NOT do it;

Oh AND what made it worse was that I sorta cut myself off mid sentence, right? He obviously got curious and kept bugging me about it but I was too shy and didn’t want to be so FORWARD since our relationship is like strictly platonic. Well it is supposed to be strictly platonic but we like to jokingly flirt, mainly just making fun of other people but I wanted to be FR with him and I just couldn’t. (😭) He even mentioned it the night after that incident since he was so intrigued on what I could’ve said and I want yall to know i had to actually cover my mouth to stop my dumbass from saying the THING. I want yall to know it was such a dumb thing to get embarrassed over.. cause I was like “oh im gonna touch you …” and I was going to DETAIL on how I was going to TOUCH this man inappropriately and ik that sounds so fucking bad but we say “IM GONNA TOUCH YOU” to eachother all the time but when he says it im sure he means like he’s gonna beat me up or something but I MEANT IT IN A WHOLE OTHER WAY. Like I’m not even sure anymore what I was going to say exactly since I was tired as fuck, something like “oh imma make you excrete your bodily fluids everywhere” I’m sure yall can understand that … if not I’ll explain it in FORTNITE terms. So, what I wanted to say was I wanted to make this man FLOWBERRY FIZZ EVERYWHERE. But yeah, I obviously wasn’t going to say that to my friend! I think my brain would’ve stopped working if I said that to him and I am so ashamed I even THOUGHT of saying that to him. He was like BEGGING me to tell him what the flip I was going to say and I wasn’t going to risk it all just to say something stupid.

Guys I want him romantically, carnally and in the purest form him. God that’s so cringe but I genuinely believe he deserves to be treated well, even if he wasn’t mine I would want my best friend to meet a girl that would treat him sweet and gently. Like ik I’d probably be that bitches number one hater but if she made him happy I guess it would be okay 😒. If he did hypothetically like me I wonder if he thinks this way about me too and when I cross his mind I wonder what reminded him of me. (Not ennglishinggshhh)

I wish I could trace my fingers around his facial features and admire every single detail. I wish I could run my fingers through his hairrrr and I wish I could let him lay on my chest. Like YALL DO NOT UNDERSTAND, anytime my boy is stressing I want nothing more than to hold him and make him feel better. Lord I don’t believe in Jesus but I pray he lets me have this man.. I know I probably won’t have him but I’m about to become religious and shit just for him. Like imma start praying and manifesting for him.

I NEEEEEED HIMMMMMMM. I wanna tell him how much I like him, GUYS LOVE IS SO FUN BUT I THINK IK FUCKING DERANGEDH

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literarygoon · 2 years

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So, Shortly before Kris was born, I bought him a plastic T-Rex. It was a little inside joke with myself, because the prospect of his arrival was scaring the shit out of me. This was in 2021, shortly after my sister Kathryn passed away unexpectedly. The grief that I experienced in the aftermath of her death had nuked my mind, until I was blabbering and delusional and sequestered off in the psych ward. There was a month of trashing Christmas trees Grinch-style, kicking down hotel room doors like a lunatic and chain-smoking cigarettes in lonely dark parking lots while I sobbed in the fetal position. The way I felt at the time was that the world might have been a friendly and worthwhile place at one point, but now it was a bleak hellscape of sadness and pain. I legitimately believed there was no way I could be happy again. I didn’t like this world where horrifying things could happen to undeserving people and because of that, I felt sorry for the kids who would be doomed to have this sad mountain of a parent their whole lives. (During this time I started talking to my friend Shaun on the phone once a week, and he told me “a sad parent doesn’t necessarily have to be a bad parent.” Those words meant a lot at the time.) The weeks leading up to Kris’ birth, I was still in a drastic daily mental health catastrophe. I was waking up at 5 a.m. having panic attacks, begging my wife to take me to the hospital because I thought I was going to commit suicide, and I had this sinking dread that somehow I would die before I ever got the chance to meet my son. I couldn’t imagine anything more tragic. Why was this happening? What purpose did this suffering serve? I felt furious at God, because why would He bring a child into this world with such a useless and deranged father? I hated myself for wanting to die, and hated myself for abandoning Kris, even in my imagination. I’d spent my whole life imagining what it would be like to meet him, and now that chance was being snatched away from me the same way it was snatched from Kathryn. What had our family done to deserve these outcomes? It’s uncomfortable to even think about that period now, though I’m sure that many fathers go through the same thing. And grief is tricky. These days I catch myself feeling happy, and I feel guilty because somehow it feels like I’m leaving Kathryn behind. Betraying her by not continuing to self-flagellate. When I looked her in the face the last time I saw her, I described the moment as being like putting my finger on the white hot jugular of God. I was looking Death full in the face, with Celista on my hip, and I didn’t understand how something so ugly could be so beautiful. Four months after I faced Death, Life decided to come out punching. In the first seconds that he appeared in the doctor’s gloved hands, I couldn’t believe the alarming shade of purple Kris’ face was. It was the exact same colour as Kathryn’s, and for a moment I panicked. Was more pain coming? But then he opened up wide and gave his best T-Rex shriek. My little son. I’m crying writing this because sometimes he overwhelms me, how perfect he is. He’s got blond curls in the back now, like a little duck, and I can’t believe how much personality he has. He’s intelligent, stubborn, goal-oriented and hilarious. Watching him eat is my favourite thing. We love having baths together. And we even share a taste in music. Kathryn would have loved him so much. Being his Dad is a daily privilege. I like everything about Kris, and sometimes I’m surprised to find that he actually likes me back. It’s amazing how easy it’s been, introducing him into our family. I’ve never had a relationship with a baby boy before, and I love discovering all the ways he’s unique and distinct from his older sister. He is an absolute miracle, as evidenced by the photo I took today (below) while unloading him from the car. Do you see those eyes? There’s more going on there than I understand. Kris, I’m really grateful that I get to be your Dad. You’re my Mr. Happy Perfect. And you’re too young to understand it yet, but I think you might’ve saved my life.

The Literary Goon

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leonbloder · 2 years

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Enough

Today I have been watching the news out of Uvalde, TX unfold where an 18-year-old armed suspect entered an elementary school and killed (at this writing) 21 people---nineteen students and two teachers.

My heart is broken... again.

Invariably, my mind goes to my own little guy, who I sent off to school on his bike this morning, and who I got to see come through the door at the end of the day.

But just 160 miles south of where my son goes to school, there are at least nineteen families who can't say the same. They sent their little ones off to school, and they are never coming home again.

My mind went back to December 14, 2010, the day when I heard the news of the horrific shooting at Sandy Hook Elementary school, which claimed the lives of 20 children, and several adults.

I wept uncontrollably then as I thought of those precious children's lives being taken by a deranged young man armed with weapons he had no business owning.

And I thought to myself, "Maybe now... Maybe now it will be enough. Maybe now there will be action taken to prevent this from happening again."

Now, I find that I can't cry, even though my heart tells me to. I'm sad, sorry, and angry... really angry.

I still have some moments with God over these kinds of tragedies. I still find myself asking "Why?!!?? Why little children? How could you let this happen?"

But even though I cry out my questions to God, I have come to know better.

God doesn't cause all things, but God is present in all things. God didn't cause this shooting, God didn't even "allow" it as some people might suggest.

It happened because of the sinfulness of a culture that glorifies violence.

It happened because of the sinfulness of greed---the greed of manufacturers who produce hand-held, automatic weapons of mass destruction with impunity, and whose sales increase with every tragedy.

It happened because of the sinfulness of pride---the pride of far too many of our elected officials who care more about holding on to their power than they do about doing everything they can to protect the lives of our children.

It happened because of misguided fear and an obsession with the dizzying paradox of protecting the rights of individuals to create arsenals that are used again and again to destroy the innocent.

It happened because of the sinfulness of a world that still stigmatizes mental illness so much so that far too many people won't get the help they so desperately need, or they don't have the resources to get it.

God didn't cause this. We caused this.

But even in the midst of our sinfulness, there is hope. Because God is present in the midst of the sorrow, and the brokenness of the people of Uvalde, TX.

God is present in the midst of their grief, their loss, and their anguish.

My friends, God is also present in our outrage at this violent and horrific act, because God is love, and love is stronger than death, and it sure as hell is stronger than violence.

Jesus proved that.

And this I choose to believe with all that my heart can muster... that God was with those little ones and their teachers even in the awful last moments of their lives.

I have to believe God was with them because to believe otherwise is too terrible for me to bear.

There's also this... If prayers and thoughts and moments of silence can help---we should keep offering them.

But that can no longer be the extent of our efforts. We need to act. Our children deserve better from us. Enough... Enough... Good God Almighty... Enough.

And if my words offend you more than the fact of nineteen dead children... in the words of author/artist Carlos Whittaker:

It’s time to unplug your soul for 30 seconds and then plug it back in.

Your humanity needs a reset…

May the grace and peace of our Lord Jesus Christ cover us all.

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hoodoobarbie · 3 years

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The mythology of the Siren, Mermaid, Water Spirits & Mami Wata and it’s origins within black feminity.

Today I had to listen to other another black woman rant about how mermaids/sirens/mami wata are evil low key. So this educational post was born in response.

Did you really think the divine essence of the black feminine wouldn’t protect itself ? That energy exists for a reason. Suddenly it’s evil, to have teeth and protect yourself from predators. Water is a precious resource. You will be tested to see if you are deserving of it or not. Also these spirits will defend natural resources so they don’t get fucked up by human greed.

It’s common for some places in Africa for people to offer the Sirens/Mami Wata/Water spirits or make an offerings/contracts with them in order to use the resources on their land. It also keeps the white ppl away too because they cause so much trouble.

Sirens are also associated with being the killers of children and men, but often this is completely misrepresented intentionally.

Men fear the power of the siren because she can override the patriarchy at core and can completely unravel them. The orgins of many water spirits lie in matriachal societies, temples divine feminine and motherhood. This is why temples and sacred magikal knowledge was intentionally destroyed and stolen, especially to empower the white patriarch.

Sirens are also described as thiefs of children and child killers. Sirens have been known to kidnap kids who were being abused or have were murdered near water and take them to their kingdom to restore them.

Sometimes the child returns, sometimes they are not. However in general they are big on kidnapping people, mostly women and giving them powers, if they decide to return. The idea of them eating and killing children, was a lie perpetuated by Greeks to cover up some truly horrific acts. Unfortunate these false accusations have been allowed to continue to perpetuate.

If a siren is acting in a predatory way, there is a reason why as their energy as been disturbed. Sirens are natural guardians.

So the real question is . . . what did you do ? Did you destroy their habitat ? Abuse a child or a person ? Commit an egregious act against a woman ie rape/murder etc ? Disrespect a sacred place, the land, the seas or rivers ? Steal precious resources that weren’t yours to take ?

These sacred traditions are more than just deities, spirits and our ancestors. All forms of ATR are access to our spiritual mind state as an entire community. When you move in Vodou, you can sense the whole of black consciousness and all of our problem spots, specifically areas that need healing.

Oxum-Oshun, Olokun, Yemaya, the Mami Wata, La Baliene, La Siren, Met Agwe, The Simbi - these are all spirits with a connection to waters. Water is life and has always been inherently associated feminine energy. I’m not going into detail about all these cross connections but let’s chat about La Sirene, specifically.

La Sirene, Queen of all Mermaids is more than just a powerful sorceress and queen of song/music and dreams, she is also a keeper of secrets an a guardian of sacred memories & knowledge.

Many of the souls of slaves, from the Transatlantic slave trade that were thrown off the boats into the ocean are her children, citizens and warriors now. She comforts them eternally & they live in paradise. That doesn’t mean all of these souls are at rest, plenty continuously ask their mother if they will be avenged, especially the young children. She also has a close connection with the Indigenous Taino. The isle of Hispaniola also known as Haiti (Ayiti) & the Dominican Republic is her most known domain.

Let’s not act like slavery and colonization was a cake walk. Rape was common place and mermaids, water spirits offered African and Indigenous women protection and power over men. They became demonized overtime for their hypnotic powers and killing men, who often overstepped their boundaries. Women could leave offerings to these spirits, work or commune with them and be quickly avenged or gain great power and wealth. All of this was threatening to the white patriarchal standard.

La Sirene’s presence in Haiti and other merfolk tales that float around the Caribbean/West Indies, is not without purpose. She has ties to many people and many different cultures. Her sacred symbols are global. This is why I speculate she is much older than people think. La Sirene, is a fairly young evolution. She clearly has ties to much older things. Her older names might have been lost but she has evolved, to save her self and also document other forgotten elements of history in the process. There are those who speculate that La Sirene is the embodiment of a cross mixed culture, the evolution of Indigenous & African water spirits combined, due to the excess trauma of colonization and so the Mermaid Queen was born. Others will argue that she is the Orisha Yemaya but a newer avatar of her. I hate to argue semantics but I will say this, she exists and her presence is felt to this day, all around the world.

La Sirene is often depicted as a mulatto woman with eyes like the sea but if you have been blessed to see her in dream state, she does appear sometimes as a brown or dark skinned skinned woman of possibly mixed Indigenous/African ancestry with glowing hypnotic eyes. Alot of her older depictions, deal with colorism and slavery, but as things have grown in the modern world this imagery has begun to change. However mermaids, are known for their shapeshifting powers - to truly behold her true form, is a gift reserved for the rare few.

As a keeper of the mysteries, La Sirene also access to many forgotten things in the black subconscious. The element of water is an intensely psychic sign. Water is her domain, and what is the human body 80% of? WATER! The truth does not hide from her hypnotic eyes. This sacred connection to water and her essence, also means you can track forgotten elements black history and connect to other deities/cultures who’ve had contact with her & her whole court or other black water spirits as a whole. So let’s take a short historical trip down memory lane.

The Greeks & Black women. Sirens, Aphrodite, Sibyls and other Children of Water 🧜🏾‍♀️

The deity Aphrodite/Venus is of Grecian and Roman legend.

A little known magikal fact is that Aphrodite/Venus is half siren. She is a child of the water, she was literally birthed this way after Uranus got his balls cut off & thrown into the sea. Much of her Venusian influence and powers of love and beauty come from this element. Now my Mambo doesn’t like mentioning it but Aphrodite, is tolerated by the oceanic court of sirens/mermaids. Any child of water, falls under the domain of the queen. La Sirene has a sort of strange fondness for her and so does Aphrodite for her. However this doesn’t mean they are best friends. It’s tentative friendship at best and comes with some perks. Aphrodite works quickly for children of water sirens and often will send mermaids to her devotees who misbehave. She has deliberately placed me around her people have pissed her off, to cause mischief. She’s quite petty but also very generous. I won’t go as far to dare and say she is in the queen’s court, but she does curry favor with the queen. Being born of water, her half siren/mermaid influence has definitely attributed to legends of her beauty in myth but also her treachery with men 🧜🏾‍♀️😂. She clearly also has some sort of homesickness for the world underneath the water, because many of her offerings are gifts of pearls, kisses, sea shells, beauty products etc. Anyone who serves the Mermaid Queen knows the meaning behind those gifts. If you’re a black gyal with water or siren energy and decide to work with Aphrodite, do it! If you ever irritate her, the least she’ll do is give you pimples and fuck up your skin, she won’t have the full power to completely fuck up your love life like she does with the white girls. And let me tell you, she has completely ruined some white girls lives by giving them terrible lovers or men.

The trident 🔱 is known for its connection in Greek and Hindu cultures. However La Sirene or other African water spirits are depicted carrying it, which is largely ignored in the occult world.

You can track the trident in Hinduism, with the serpent spirits, the nagas or Lord Shiva but let’s focus on it’s Grecian connection. The usage of the trident and Poseidon, even in mainstream society today is associated with him. This lets us know there is a connection between the mermaids, merfolk and La Sirene/African water spirits. Poseidon’s trident was rumored to made in Athens by the Cyclops - this is the city of Athena. So now we can track an element of black history all the way to Poseidon & Athena. Keep that in your thoughts we’ll come back to that later.

Tridents were also used ceremonially in Africa & India as well, as scepters, tribal weapons and religious symbols.

They were also associated with the sea faring people and fishing. It’s highly likely the origins of the trident are cross mixed between these two societies. Indo-African relations, go back to the Bronze age and the Indus Valley civilization. Which means traveling over by sea to reach each other was necessary. There is historical evidence of African millet being found in a Indian city Chanhudaro, including a cemetary or burial ground for African women. Maritime relations between these two groups existed before Grecian & the Egyptian Ptolemaic dynasties.

Now of course there are some deranged historians that will try to whitewash history and say the trident has its origins from the labyrs but the Ancient Greeks & Africans/Indians interacted regularly. The trident also looks nothing like a labyrs, which is quite literally a double sided axe. This is one of the more painful obvious pieces of white washing and historical revisionism.

Regardless, the trident is associated with water, ceremonial/religious purposes, fishing, battling in the coliseum and the symbol of power for a few African, Black diasporian an Hindu deities.

🧜🏾‍♀️ Oracles & Sibyls

Some sibyls/oracles were known to be African prophetesses/Mamissi to the Mami Wata/Sirens in Africa, some were stolen or captured by Greeks or Romans, sold into slavery and made to be oracles, some of whom became quite famous in legend. Their connection to these water spirits, is what gave them their gift of prophecy. Not every sibyl or oracle was African but SOME were. This lead to the sharing and theft of sacred knowledge. It’s likely these women shared this sacred information, with their colleagues, some whom may or may not have been enslaved or kept in these temple and likely this information was traded, for their freedom, power or money etc. This gave way to the usage of sacred spirits and magick being used by men. A great example of this is the snake spirits of the genii, genius spirits (not to be mistaken with genies) and which then evolved into a diluted lesser energy in Greek society being known as daemons (not to be confused with goetic demons) Instead of a woman commanding these specific energies/spirits, the patriarchs decided that these specifics powers were only worthy of being used by men. These spirits were whitewashed, adopted into their religious practices and said to only be given to men at birth. No woman was allowed to possess them anymore.

🧜🏾‍♀️ The whitewashing of Medusa & Lamia.

In mainstream society these two women stories have been white washed but also to hide a very shameful history and narrative. These two were beautiful women, in older stories of black black mythology were known to be black and they were children of water & daughters of the powerful water spirit/snake/siren divine mother/feminine goddess.

Medusa was raped by the GREECIAN GOD OF THE SEA, POSEIDON and Athena covered it up, refused to avenge her and punished her by making her ugly to everyone. It’s speculated in several magikal circles that the snakes in her hair were actually dreads, due to their lack of understanding of black hair and also allegorically might have been a reference to her devotion to the fish or water snake, great mother goddess. A child of the divine feminine, mother goddess was assaulted in a temple by a man and a woman covered it up & celebrated it.

Let’s start there ... cuz this story says a lot! It’s one of the first historical cases in myth that really documents the issues that surround the black feminine specifically and it was intentionally whitewashed. Then to add insult to injury, Athena made her hideous to all men and her chopped off her head and used as a symbol of protection but also a subtle sign of disrespect to the fullest. This still goes on to this day.

In fact ALGOL, the demon star, which is considered to be strongest protective magick talisman in the occult world today is the HEAD OF MEDUSA. The child of water! BITCH! This energy is invoked constantly and the spirit of medusa is never allowed to rest.

However these egregious acts did not come without a price. Athena at time was a goddess of fertility. However desecrating a child of water or the sirens, is seen as an attack by the divine feminine and can will cause people to be afflicted with fertility and other mental health issues as well. This is speculative but it’s also likely that after this they were constantly visited by droughts, floods or repeating issues with water sanitation & purity after this. Lowered fertility rates and miscarriages might be more prominent, for Athenians and Athena devotees & likely continues to this day.

Devotees of Athena may also develop severe issues when it to their mental health because of this connection. They completely lose touch with their feminine energy and become extremely misogynistic after continued work with her.

Not only did Athena, cause Medusa to be seen as hideous throughout the land but she celebrated when she was murdered and proudly wore Medusa’s decapitated head on her shield. From the feminist eye this virgin deity/woman was extremely male identified and adhered to the patriarchal standard. She was tested by the divine feminine and failed.

Even more strange, Athena’s birth allegorically proclaims her essential character: her wisdom is drawn from the head of a male god; the bond of affection between father and daughter; her championship of heroes and male causes, born as she was from the male, and not from a mother’s womb. A dreaded goddess of war, she remained a virgin and a servant of the patriarchal society and remains so to this day. She is the misogynistic cool girl and very asexual at the core. In fact if you explore more of her mythos, it becomes very clear she hates women. I’m bewildered at how she has become associated with lesbians and the feminine at large, when it’s been very clear that she was intent on transcending her gender from the very beginning, but never managed to escape it.

To top it off, I’ll leave you with this quote from Aeschylus’ Oresteia by Athena:

“There is no mother anywhere who gave me birth, and, but for marriage, I am always for the male with all my heart, and strongly on my father’s side. So, in a case where the wife has killed her husband, lord of the house, her death shall not mean most to me.”

Queen Lamia was a said to incredible beauty who seduced Zeus, (a literal man whore) which as made Hera jealous. Hera cursed Lamia with infertility and insomnia. She went insane and is said to have killed her own children and ate them. Zeus is said to be the one who gifted her prophecy and gave her the ability to take out her eyes, so she would not be irritated at the site of other happy mothers.

She became associated with a child eating monster who was half woman and half snake, which ties into the Libyan snake cults. She was associated with phantoms, the shapshifting laimai or empusai and the daemon spirits.

Medusa and Lamia were Libyan by heritage and came from a place in Africa where temples to the water snake mother goddess & divine feminine were common before they were destroyed by invaders intentionally. These women likely had extreme gifts of seduction, mind control and other abilities etc. It’s highly likely that Queen Lamia used her powers of seduction, at the behest of her people to save them from colonization and was demonized for it. Zeus’s temple was in Cyrene in Lybia, so this is far more than an allegorical story. This may be a real life story that was disguised in mythos. Unfortunately deeper research into this subject has turned up many dead ends for me. It’s highly likely Medusa was a priestess of the the matriarchal Mami Watas or water goddess/snake spirits and was likely raped intentionally in Athena’s temple, as a show loyalty to the rising patriarchy by descrating the symbolism of the great mother and the divine feminine. This was likely an attempt to lessen power and status of the matriachal societies that existed at the time. Rape was common war tactic amongst colonizers and news of such disgrace would likely spread like wildfire. This also solidified Athena’s place amongst the male gods and gaining her their respect. Athena and her devotees went a step further to show their allegiance to the patriarchy, by stripping Medusa of her beauty supposedly and exiling her, then parading her decapitated head on shields, when going into battle likely with Libyan enemies.

This is just a brief explanation of a few horrific acts in history, which were whitewashed & explain why the essence of the black feminine has evolved to become more protective, predatory and fierce. She learned to defend herself. Now she kills those who threaten her.

Fun history tip: Usually anytime you see a snake in Grecian mythology, just know something got whitewashed, because the truth was really fucked up, made them look really bad & a black woman was there.

🧜🏾‍♀️ The black feminine is capable of more than you know.

Yes, mermaids/sirens/snakes & the mami watas can be scary at times but that’s what stepping into mysticism of deep waters is like. Water is capable of many things, it is one of the most powerful elements on earth. It can nourish you and kill you, and that’s the beauty of it really.

We should all be grateful the black feminine is so beautiful, fierce & scares the living daylights out of everyone.

You would be dead if it wasn’t.

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bodycountgame · 3 years

Note

For Adegoke Fluff 13. “i didn’t mean to say that but yeah, i love you.” 💞 Though I feel like a bit of angst would make that even better hehe

i didn’t mean to say that but yeah, i love you + adegoke

You storm down the street, your jacket on as you go. In your haste, you just cannot get your arm into the fucking sleeve. While you’re now basically impervious to the London drizzle, it does undercut your anger a bit to be flapping around like a deranged chicken.

“You’re being belligerent,” Adegoke calls after you, and you stop, look back. He’s standing on the pavement with his arms folded, steadily holding your gaze. Solid, unwavering. He’s never been the type to run after you, but he always has a way of drawing you back regardless.

“No, you’re being… irritatingly reasonable.”

And it’s true, he is. You’ve really fucked up this time, and he just… doesn’t seem to care. He just keeps saying very sensible things, calm things - the sort of things you’d expect to hear from a therapist rather than a boyfriend.

“So, what is it you want? For me to get all mad and yell at you and smash some plates? Not all feelings have to be loud to be real.”

What do you want? You don’t really know. Your head has been scrambled ever since you got back. Nothing feels as easy as it used to feel. Everything feels fucking hard. Even getting out of bed in the morning is a challenge - and not in a steamy sexy way.

“I’m not going to just let you walk off, $!{mcname}. I want to talk about this. I love you, and that’s not just… That’s not something I’m willing to just give up on.” Adegoke folds his arms across his chest, wet t-shirt sticking to his skin. He doesn’t seem at all bothered by the cold. He also doesn’t seem to have realised what he’s just said.

You haven’t said that to each other before.

You’ve thought it. You’ve thought it a lot of times – when he wakes you up in the morning with a cup of tea and a kiss on the forehead, when he climbs back into bed with you when he’s all sweaty from his run, when he rests his hand on your leg when you’re sat on the sofa. About a million times a day, actually.

You just haven’t said it yet, because you’re a mess. You’re a mess, and he is just trying to hold you together, and he deserves better.

“Oh,” is all you manage to reply with, which sounds fucking stupid. It comes out all distant and gormless as you walk back towards him. You’re not struggling with your jacket anymore.

Then he realises, but he doesn’t seem regretful. You were worried that maybe he would be.

“I didn’t mean to say that, but yeah, I love you.”

“Saying something you mean? Doesn't sound like you.” you smirk, digging your hands into your pockets as you reach him. At least, you hope it looks like a smirk - you might be too nervous for it to be all that convincing. You look into his deep brown eyes, and they remain steady as they look back into yours.

“I said that I didn't mean to say it, not that I didn't mean it. I do.” A smile slowly spreads across his face, and it looks much lighter than yours feels. Easy. Confident. “Do you love me?”

“Of course, I do,” you breathe back, because you just know that you do. And now you know that he really isn’t going to let you leave.

Even if maybe he should.

“Good. Then let’s go back inside, and I’ll get mad and yell and smash some plates for you, and then we’ll get on with our lives again. Okay?”

#i don't normally use name tags in prompts but adegoke just loves calling people by their name he can't help it lmao #in which BC MC is a mess AGAIN jflskjfds #ch: adegoke #drabbles

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stressedoutcanary · 3 years

Text

Do You Ever Feel Like A Misfit (Everything Inside You Is Dark & Twisted)

Dick Grayson x Reader

Word Count: 3.5K (I don't know how tf that happened)

Warnings: Explicit language, Blood and Violence, lots of angst, Hurt/Comfort ✌

A/N: Guess who's back! Just for some context the reader is a magic user and her style is similar to that of Zatanna <3

•°•°•°•°

She’d have reasoned with herself that stealing from one of the most secure and heavily guarded safe-houses of a deranged sociopath was probably not the brightest idea she’s had all day. It never even made it on her to-do-list for the weekend, but here she was, running across rooftops, holding on to the stolen totem like her life depended on it, it probably did. The three assassins sent after her were no Lady Shiva or Talia Al Ghul but they weren’t exactly amateurs either. The deep cuts and two broken ribs she got from their earlier encounter were proof of that.

She glanced back and even though there was no sign of her would-be-killers she knew better than to assume they’d just let her be. They were sticking to the shadows, exploiting her blind spots. The only thing she was sure of was that they were still hot on her trail and would happily plunge a dagger into her back given the opportunity.

She was right. As of this moment she hated being right.

She caught the glint of the two sharp objects slicing through the air, hurtling towards her at full speed. A slight shift of her upper body was all she could manage as one of the daggers got embedded right into her scapula while the other one, fortunately so, whirled past her, slightly grazing her left hip. The impact of the blade on her shoulder made her lose what little balance she had left. Despite her best efforts, when the wounded shoulder made contact with the hard concrete, a loud, ear-piercing cry ripped out from her throat before she could push it back down.

Cursing under her breath she knew, she knew all she had were those few seconds of numbness and disorientation to get a grip and figure out her exit strategy. However, all her hopes started to sink as she saw one of the assassins come closer, appearing more of a blur than a person. Then again that was probably because of the nice, little concussion she got from her fall. The assassin walked over to her, unsheathed their sword and placed it right on her neck, blocking any and every way out.

“You were warned. The Demon’s Head does not tolerate treachery. We are here under his orders to bring back the totem along with the witch’s head; your head”

If she could, she would’ve rolled her eyes at the classic villainous dialogues thrown at her.

“Witch? Who’re you calling a witch Snow White? I’m clearly a sorceress, don’t they teach you the difference between the two in assassin school or something? Hell, I’d even let you call me an enchantress, though that name’s already been taken but you get my poin-”

The remaining words died in her throat as the sword on her neck shifted slightly. She knew she had extremely poor self preservation skills considering she’s clearly been instigating the very person sent to kill her, but even she wasn’t dumb enough to keep talking when the tiniest movement on either part could result in her having a severed jugular or carotid.

‘This is a pretty shitty way to die’

She thought back to how she used the last of her mystic energy to hide the totem away before her fall and how stupid that decision really was because now she could actually feel the agonizing pain coming from her shoulder. It started to spread throughout her back like wildfire, eyelids grew heavy against her wishes. Suddenly she felt really tired and the idea to close her eyes just felt so goddamn appealing.

‘No (Y/N) that’s the blood loss talking. Blood loss doesn’t get to make decisions’, she mentally scolded herself, still not breaking her eye contact with the person standing above her.

“Give us what you stole and we shall grant you the mercy of a quick death.”

That made her raise an eyebrow, “Ah, lemme think...the correct response here would be…”, she hummed, making a show of how hard she was thinking about the offer she was granted, “How about a fuck you? How would that do for you?”, she gave them a vicious grin, it was all teeth. They probably weren’t impressed by her response and it showed.

She knew there was no way out but she had promised herself once that if she were to die, that if she ever goes out, she’d be anything but a whimpering and sobbing mess. She was scared shitless, more so than she’d ever been while fending off the league, she won’t deny that but she would rather die than let them know that. ‘Well at least I got that ‘rather die’ part down to a T.’ she thought, eyeing the sharpness of the blade which was now raised up in the air

She felt bad for just giving up the way she did. Her whole life she was told to fight her way through the impossible, to attain the strength rivaling that of Zatanna Zatara, John Constantine and Doctor Fate himself. To be better than them, and there she was lying on the ground limp as a sword came down on her throat; all for a silly necklace. She would’ve huffed out a laugh if only her ribs weren’t broken, if only her body wasn’t screaming in pain, if only she had a way out. She didn’t. She was too tired, too drained, too numb to do anything else. Closing her eyes she stopped fighting, she let her growing unconsciousness claim her.

‘This is what you deserve anyway’, her barely there conscience remarked.

‘Fuck you too.’ she replied.

Everything went pitch black. The darkness encompassing her was peaceful, unlike the pain she had felt before. It was nice for a change. It sounded pathetic but she couldn’t bring herself to care.

•°•°

When she came to, the first thing she observed was the feeling of something soft against her back, next was a dull rhythmic sound which she realized was her own heartbeat. Though opening her eyes was a tiring task. It shouldn’t have been, but it was. She used all the energy she had into it and her eyelids fluttered open. She stared at the white ceiling and stayed like that for a few seconds; a few minutes? She couldn’t tell, but the pain was back now, not too much but enough to tell her it was there, to tell she was still alive.

She saw something shift in her peripheral vision and her body instinctively went stiff. Her mind which was blank before now ran in all directions.

‘Could be Ra’s Al Ghul… Could be worse’, she tried not to think about the worst case scenario, but she knew she had pissed off a lot of beings, beings far more powerful and far crueler than Ra’s himself. An involuntary shudder passed through her at the thought. That must’ve caught her captor’s attention as she felt the person move closer to her. Begrudgingly, she tore her gaze from the spot on the ceiling which she had been staring at this whole time and tilted her head. The man in black and blue who appeared, was probably the last person she had expected to see.

“Nightwing…”

Her voice was barely above a whisper and the hoarseness with which it came out it took her by surprise, but her body visibly relaxed at the sight of the familiar figure, at the sight of someone who would never hurt her.

She watched him pull out a chair from the desk nearby. He sat next to the bed she was lying on and gave her a soft smile, a smile that spelled one word ‘relieve’. She remembered how when she first met him two years ago, she found that particular smile extremely annoying, she had no reason to, but she did. What she couldn’t remember was when she had grown so fond of it.

“How do you feel?”

“Like shit.”

He snorted a laugh which made her pout. She was planning to point out how he was being mean; laughing at her when her response truly defined the way she was feeling, but any words she thought of were cut off by the change in his expression. His smile faltered, lips were now pressed in a thin line, face contorted in a way which showed his genuine concern.

“This is the second time, this week.”

That you almost died, he didn’t say. That I had to save you and bring you back from the clutches of death, he didn’t say.

“I know.”

“That doesn’t make it better.”

“I know.”

The silence that settled, stretched far too long for comfort, but she wasn’t going to be the one to break it. She wanted to, but there was nothing she could say, that would make it better. Nightwing ran his fingers through the locks of hair, burying his face in his hands.

For the first time since she woke up, she took in his appearance, he looked disheveled, his suit was torn in different places along visible faint cuts, most likely he got them when he rescued her. She felt a pang of guilt rising in her chest. He risked his life for her, she knew he had done it before, she didn’t get it then and she didn’t get it now. Why would someone do that? Why would he? She was pulled back from her spiraling thoughts when he spoke again, exhaustion evident in his voice.

“Why are you so reckless?”

“Excuse me?”

She looked at him like he had grown another head. She wasn’t ready for this conversation but by the looks of it they were gonna have it anyway.

“What if I hadn’t been there today? Or any of the other days you almost died. What then?”

“My best guess? I would’ve been dead.”

“And that fact doesn’t bother you at all?!”

She flinched at little when his voice rose, but she stood her ground, at least figuratively since she was still in bed.

“I don’t know, should it?” She didn’t try and tone down the venom dripping from her words. Her words cut deeper than the wounds he got from the assassins; she saw it clear as day on his face. She let out a deep sigh but continued. She had to get it out and he had to hear it, that’s the reason she gave herself for the confession that followed.

“I don’t need your help, Dick. I don’t know what gave you the impression that I did but I’ve never needed it.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. ‘Why was it getting harder to speak?’ “I don’t need you to save me every time. I don’t need you to risk your life for me and I definitely don’t…” She moved to sit up straight, her back resting on the headboard. She shifted her gaze on her open palms resting in her lap; palms covered in blood, in her blood, not very long ago.

“I don’t need you to care...”

The last part was a whisper and Dick was silent, so silent that for a brief moment she wondered if the man she’d come to care about even heard her, admitting something that was so painful for her to say out loud.

Dick moved to sit beside her, his shoulder bumping hers. He didn’t know where all this was coming from but he knew better to leave it unattended.

“(Y/N) I help you because I care about you. I always will, you know that.”

“Why? You have nothing to gain from it”, blinking back the unshed tears in her eyes, she looked at him with a hurt expression as if she couldn’t bring herself to understand.

“Why… as in why do I care?”, Dick tilted his head to look her in the eyes, trying to understand what she meant all the while making sure not to let his own surprise at her words show. She nodded not trusting her voice to not betray her anymore than it already had.

“I don’t care about you because I feel like you need it nor because I would gain something from it”, Dick knew he shouldn’t have to explain it to her. He briefly wondered what she had gone through to make her think that she needed to be useful to be cared for or that she had to need it to be cared for. He felt something pull at his heart at the thought; It was sorrow.

“I care about you because… well I do and there’s nothing you could or couldn’t do to change that. And it is because I care about you that I ask you to be better at taking care of yourself. Now I know for a fact that whatever you stole from The League’s safehouse definitely did not belong there, but I also know that whatever it was, it wasn’t worth your life (Y/N) It never will be.”

Dick grasped one of her hands, interlacing his gloved fingers with hers; she hadn’t even realized she was shaking until he did so. Closing her eyes, she forced herself to take a deep breath despite her protesting ribs. Opening the palm of her free hand she muttered an incantation with practiced ease

“Eveirter tahw saw neddih “, her hand glowed, the golden aura taking the shape of a object. When the light subsided, Dick saw the object in her palm as she rubbed her thumb across it, quietly leaning her head on his shoulder.

“It was this totem. It belongs to Madame Xanadu. Don’t know what Ra’s wanted it for though”, she shrugged as best as she could with an injured shoulder then continued, voice firmer than it had been the whole evening,“ She asked me to retrieve it in exchange for information on a girl I was looking for. The girl was somehow sucked into some other dimension, a mystic one and her mother was so desperate when she approached me that I just couldn’t say no. So when I say the Totem was important, then I want you to know that it really is.”

Dick shook his head at that. “Still not worth your life.”

“Dick…”, she sighed. It was all she could do at the moment because she was really getting tired from all the arguing.

“Do you remember the first time we met?”

“You mean the time I met the infamous vigilante Nightwing in a dumpster of all places.”

“In my defense I was badly injured”, she hummed in agreement.

“You smelled bad”

“You try smelling like flowers after falling from a building and into an open dumpster.”

His playful grumbling pulled a short laugh out of her. She was more than a little confused at the sudden trip into the past but happily accepted it as a change of topic. She should’ve know better than to think he’d have let the matter go.

“Anyway my point is when you saw me that day, you first instinct was to help me. You pulled me out and used your magic to heal my wounds. You didn’t have to. You could’ve dropped me at a hospital. You could’ve even walked away and pretended that you never saw me, but you didn’t. Why is that?”

“Because I thought you were handsome?”, she said trying to lighten this too-heavy-for-comfort conversation he was trying to have.

“Nice try. I know you. You saved me because you cared. You helped me and the Titans save the city more than once because you cared. It is who you are. I’ve seen you care about and worry over complete strangers without conditions. So why do you think that there has to be some kind of a barter system when it comes to you? Why think that I would want to gain something if I cared about you?”

“Because everyone else did.”

The words shot out from her mouth quicker than she realized. She had voiced her greatest insecurity to the one person who never had anything to add to it and Dick’s heart clenched at the implications of her words, ‘She has never been loved unconditionally before’ his brain provided.

The tears she blinked back earlier came back with full force. She felt two strong arms that wrapped around her, all the while being mindful of her injuries. Dick pulled her into a hug and that was it. She couldn’t control the sobs that tore through her throat, the pain in her body flared due her erratic movements. She knew once the tears started flowing they wouldn’t stop at least not for a while, but now that her façade had been broken she couldn’t bring herself to give it another thought.

He waited for her to let it out, let out all the pent up emotions she had. Now that he thought about it he had never seen her cry. He never questioned it, maybe he should’ve.

“I don’t know who’s responsible for hurting you (Y/N), God, how much I wish I did”, his arms slightly tighten around her at that. “I am so sorry that you have felt like you have to have your walls up all the time, even around me and I should’ve seen that, I should’ve realized that before but I didn’t and I am so sorry for that. I can’t undo the damage you’ve endured and I will not pretend that I can. What I can do is promise you that I’d never let you down like that, never.”

The words he spoke were clear. He didn’t try to tell her to put her walls down, to trust him when she had no reason to. He also didn’t need to justify himself or make such over the top promises but it felt nice to hear it. She had already stopped crying the moment he started speaking again but she still had her forehead pressed against his chest, listening to his heartbeat, it was calming in a way she couldn’t describe. She pulled her head back to look at him, and the honesty in his voice earlier matched the one in his eyes.

“Okay”

Hearing her response, he gave her his signature grin. It sent unexpected warmth through her, he always had that effect on her. She was sure she was just blushing at this point and was suddenly thankful for the dim lighting in the room.

She ended up composing herself rather quickly, jabbing a finger at his armored chest with her usual smirk plastered on her face.

“Now that you’ve made that promise, know this, Dick Grayson, if you let me down I will drop a mountain on you.”

“You mean that figuratively?”

“No I mean that geologically”, he waited for her to say she was kidding. She didn’t.

“Alright, alright”, He held his hands out in mock surrender. After considering the look in her eyes, Dick refrained from questioning the feasibility of that action nor did he want to question her magical abilities or intent. Last he remembered, Wally did that and that conversation ended with him being teleported to Sahara and Dick would very much like to avoid the same fate as his best friend.

Deciding that was more than enough exhaustion for one night, he got up from the bed and kissed her goodnight, informing her that he’d be sleeping on the couch so that he wouldn’t accidently hit her injuries in his sleep. She agreed and watched him slip out of the room before falling into the blissful sleep she had been putting off since forever.

•°•°

She knew Dick Grayson was full of surprises but the next morning when he put forward the offer of become a full time Titan, in front of her, she wondered if she fell from the bed in her sleep and ended up getting another concussion because he was so not making any sense.

“So let me get this straight, you want me to come live with you and your superhero friends, in the Titans freaking Tower?!”

“I was hoping for a little less yelling after an emotional evening but yes that is exactly what I’m asking.”

“Dick that’s just ridiculous!”

“Look, you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

He looked like a kicked puppy which made her feel kinda guilty for all the yelling.

“It’s not that…It’s just there is still a lot about me I haven’t told them. There is still a lot I haven’t told you. I don’t see a reason why you all would want to trust a possible threat, let alone live with it”, she gestured to herself.

Dick felt like there was a deeper meaning behind her words, as if she was voicing her own fear rather than theirs but he trusted her enough to tell him about it when she was ready, on her own terms. He could wait till then but for now he crossed the short distance between them, going around the breakfast table till he stood in front of her. He grasped both of her hands in his and ran his thumb soothingly across her knuckles. He bent down to place a soft kiss on her forehead, and then moved to meet her gaze.

“(Y/N), I know you and I trust you and…It sounds silly considering I was raised by the worlds greatest detective but I believe that you don’t have to know every little detail about someone as long as you already know what’s in their heart.” Bruce probably would’ve disagreed but he wasn’t Bruce.

“And you know what’s in mine?”

“And I know what’s in yours.” His statement was firm and left no room for argument, not when it came to this.

“If you’re sure about this, then I guess...”

“Is that a yes I’m hearing?”, There was that smile again, seriously what was up with him and his smile that made her giddy inside.

In between thoughts she realized he was still waiting for a response so she nodded. Any underlying doubts she had about her answer vanished when she took in how happy it made him. As cheesy as it sounded seeing him happy made her happy. A part of her said it wouldn’t last long, but seeing her boyfriend hop onto the couch full of joy as he called his friends about the latest development in their lives, she wanted to believe otherwise.

°•°•°•°•

235 notes · View notes

kosmosguk · 3 years

Text

Lineage (M) | 4

Pairing: Duke Yoongi x Princess Reader

Word Count: 5.2K

Summary: When an engagement locks you, the 8th and forgotten princess, to the duke infamous for his cruelty, you find yourself counting the days until your inevitable death. It’s terrifying to think of your end, but when you arrive at his territory, you realize there’s a more morbid reason behind your marriage, and that the duke is much worse than the rumors have painted him out to be.

Warnings: HEAVY yandere themes, death, mentions of gore and death, near-death experiences, obsessive behaviors, manipulation, mentions of smut, 18+, explicit language, pregnancy, vomiting

A/N: wow...I can’t believe this story (well the main story; there’s a special chapter and an epilogue coming up) is over. Over 40 pages later...It feels like I’ve raised and nurtured a baby into a somewhat adult and now I have to send it off for college or smth :( I never thought the story would do this good in the first place (part 1 has 4k+ notes and I’m ,, shook ,,,) so to everyone who supported and loved this story (as messy as it was)...THANK YOU! Please keep supporting my writing, and I hope to keep improving as your lovely kosmosguk :]

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 |

The air was still cold, the kind of cold that heavily bore on your lungs and left you rattling like the only thing left of you was a decaying ivory skeleton. You supposed the cold made sense, even though it was spring and it shouldn’t have been so cold. Some part of you convinced yourself it was the norm even when droplets of icy water splashed onto your frail cheeks. Even when you closed the door behind you, you could feel the chill; even when an acrid taste built up in your throat, you could not stop shivering.

Why could you remember the look on Namjoon’s face? You closed your eyes. Go away, go away, go away. His face lingered even then, even more stark against the darkness of your closed lids, hollow, disappointed eyes and lips curled too rigidly, too unnaturally into a smile. You knew that look. You hated that look.

You could feel the pain in your chest, prickling, and that pain seemed to sink itself into your stomach. Why did it hurt? Why were you hurting?

10. 9. 8.

You counted in your mind softly as the nausea swelled up, like the disgustingly messy crescendo of an agonizing melody. Now, this was strange, wasn’t it? Your cold wasn’t supposed to be accompanied by such nausea. When you began to heave, bracing yourself against the frame of your bed, you heard a knock and then the door click open.

A maid stood out there, her eyes widening as if she could not fathom the sight of you. You clasped your hand around your mouth, tears building up in your eyes, and you choked on a heave. You heard her footsteps tapping frantically as she dashed to get a bucket, but you couldn’t hold in the prickling in your throat, the swirling in your stomach.

Tears spilled out, dropping onto the ground, as you bent over and retched all over your nightgown and the carpet. Your vision blurred, spots dancing, and you sunk heavily into the moment of weakness.

When you came to, you were being encased in something warm. You didn’t smell anything rancid like what you had been expecting; instead, the soft pleasant scene of rose oil scented soap met your nose, and you exhaled a relieved sigh. Wait…rose wasn’t the only smell. You could smell a hint of wine and something muskier, though slightly sweet. The smell of it was so familiar. It couldn’t be? You peeked open an eye to look up to see your surroundings, and your mouth dropped open slightly.

“D-duke? My Lord. Why are you here? Why…How did I get here?’’ you sputtered, and you tried to push yourself out of his hold. His gaze, along with his hold, remained steady. He reached out slightly and gently trailed a finger down the curve of your cheek.

“I haven’t been able to visit you lately because of how busy I’ve been…If I had known you were feeling so ill, I would’ve been by your side. I’m so sorry,’’ his tone was remorseful. The Duke, who everyone believed had no bone of emotion in his body and who was notorious for never feeling remorse, was apologizing to you. His words seemed to wash out every agony you had experienced. You rapidly blinked away the hint of tears in your eyes and ducked your head shyly.

He caught your chin with a hand before you could hide your face and lifted it gently. You noticed the black circles imprinted into the skin under his eyes, the way his face was even more waxy and pale than usual. Every aggrievance you had despaired over while alone in that room faded; you missed him. You missed him so much. You wouldn’t have been stuck in your own head if he had been there to hold you…but he was here now.

That thought washed over you, and you wrapped your fingers around the hand that was under your chin. His hand was limp as you pushed it down to your thrumming heart. Your stomach fluttered as his fingertips traced your warm skin peeking out of the collar of your nightgown. You carefully held his hand there. You didn’t notice the brief flash of guilt on his face.

You didn’t say anything, your hand still firmly holding his, and you shuffled your body closer, closing your eyes. The scent of the two of you mixed together was pleasant, and although Yoongi’s touch was usually unnaturally cold, today he was so warm. Or maybe the warmth of you had seeped out and spread around the two of you. That was okay; you were warm enough for the both of you. You suddenly felt so tired, even though you had just slept.

“Yoongi…,’’ your voice was barely a mumble,’’ I’m tired. Stay with me?’’

He moved the hand in your grasp slightly, and you held on tightly even though you were half-asleep. He chuckled lowly.

“Don’t worry. Relax your hand. I’ll be here,’’ he spoke. You complied, and you felt his fingers wrap themselves around yours. The two of you laid there, a hand clasped with the other between your chests, and you took in the sensation of your husband with every deep inhale.

“I’ll always be here.”

“Is she better?’’

Namjoon leaned back on the chain, but his posture was still stiff. Yoongi gazed at him with cold eyes from the chair across from Namjoon.

“What were you doing with her? Alone.’’ Yoongi’s voice was menacing.

Namjoon casually shrugged, his voice was level and careful to not expose any of his inner emotions.

“Wouldn’t you like to know? I was checking up on her, something her husband wasn’t doing. She didn’t look too good either,’’ Namjoon kept an eye on Yoongi’s reaction, his tone accusatory and raising in volume,’’ It made me think that you don’t give a damn about her, even though she looks and acts so much like her.’’

“Don’t.’’

Namjoon laughed bitterly.

“Don’t what? Don’t mention how much of a shitty husband you are? Don’t mention her? Shouldn’t I be telling you that? Don’t treat her like a replacement. She isn’t her. She died years ago. I saw her dead body. You saw her dead body. She’s not here anymore, Yoongi. You have to move on.’’

Yoongi’s palms were in fists now, his knuckles turning white, but his voice remained steady.

“She’s not dead.’’

Namjoon looked at Yoongi in disbelief, his expression twisting even further. Namjoon could only laugh, the sound dry and hoarse, and it crackled out like the remnants that Namjoon held in his heart.

“Yoongi.’’ This wasn’t Namjoon. Namjoon rarely got angry at Yoongi; hell, after what happened, he never got even slightly bent up at Yoongi, but he saw your face, contorted and agonized. His voice pressed out like a layer of bitter poison. He was on his feet now. “Fucking wake up. She’s dead. She died!”

“She hasn’t died,’’ Yoongi inhaled a deep breath,” She’s alive; I know it!’’

Namjoon shook his head, and before he knew it, his fist had collided with Yoongi’s jaw, sending Yoongi’s head swiveling to the right. He grabbed Yoongi by the shirt. Yoongi didn’t move, barely flinching from the blooming bruise on his face.

“Get it in your head, bastard. I’ve known you for centuries, Yoongi. I cared about her too, but she’s dead. But you know who’s not dead! Your wife. And she’s dying because of you. You want to cause someone else who loves you to die again?’’

“She’s alive, Namjoon! She died, but she’s back. Namjoon, don’t you understand?’’

Namjoon yanked Yoongi up, curling back his mouth to shout some more, but his words died in his throat before they could rise and leave on his tongue. There was a deranged look in Yoongi’s usually composed eyes. Yoongi looked feral, a murderous beast rippling underneath the façade of the weak human he wore, and Namjoon felt his spine curl in chills.

Namjoon dropped Yoongi back onto the sofa, his chest rising up in rapid heavy breaths, and he shook his head before spitting out his final words.

“You, you’re the one who doesn’t understand. If you don’t get your act together, as your friend, I’ll give you a warning: something will take her away. Whether it be a new suitor or death.”

Namjoon turned to leave, and his hand was on the doorknob when he heard Yoongi’s voice.

“When she died, I made a choice, Namjoon.”

Namjoon didn’t move. His breathing was ragged.

“You ever wonder how I managed to survive this long with most of my power gone? It’s because of her. I made the choice when…when she was bleeding out, I made a pact with the God of life. The God of life knew that I would’ve destroyed that family of bastards and then the world if I had a chance, so he made a deal with me. She would be born as the unloved princess of the same line of people who killed her, but I had to promise that I could not destroy the world. Namjoon, I’m telling you this for a reason.’’

Namjoon turned quickly back, his eyes pinned to Yoongi’s still form on the sofa. He didn’t expect Yoongi to keep talking.

“But we’ve been friends for centuries. You deserve the truth. The deal I made with that bastard wasn’t perfect. When she was reborn, she would be human. Her. She had been so in love with flowers, and now she doesn’t even look at them the same anymore. But God said…,’’ Yoongi inhaled,’’ God said I could have her really back if I was careful. Where she had been stabbed, there’s a mark. If I could make her love me once more and I waited until the Spring Equinox… If I stabbed her through there, I would have my love back.’’

There was a pause to laugh, though it was no laugh of joy. “Isn’t that cruel? I would have to hurt her the way they hurt her. But it’s worth it. It’s worth it if I have a chance to get her back.’’

“Yoongi…!’’ Namjoon’s breath was even more ragged now. Rage colored it. “She’s human. If you kill her, there’s a chance she’ll actually die! That body of hers is human. It can’t contain the power of a deity!’’

“Don’t you think I know that?’’ Yoongi’s voice struck an unruly crescendo, and he finally rose to his feet. Namjoon flinched slightly at the maniacal expression painted in his friend’s once calm eyes. “This is my final chance to bring her back. She’ll never be hurt again! I’ll lock her up in a safe place, my flower, my…my wife.’’

“Don’t you understand what you’re doing is going to hurt her? It’s already hurting her!’’ Namjoon’s voice boomed in a yell, but Yoongi didn’t back down. He was too far now to back down.

“What does it matter? I love her. She’s the same as her, but she’s also not the same. She needs to be completed. The her of now is just a vessel for her true self… And as long as I break it, everything will go back to the way it should’ve been before she decided to trust those mortal bastards over me!’’

There was a tension in the room that couldn’t be swallowed by Yoongi’s increasingly rough breathing. Namjoon’s voice managed to croak out. There was no stability to it, not anymore.

“When you said there’s a reason why you’re telling me this, what is it? You know I’m going to stop you from pulling through with this. She’s dead, Yoongi, and the her of right now is a mortal! She’ll die once more, and what will you do then? As your friend—!’’

“What friend? What friend does a demon even have? And what friend looks at his friend’s wife in that manner, in nearly the same way that I do…! Namjoon, I know you love her.’’ Yoongi’s voice lowered back down to a threateningly calm voice. “And I can’t have that.”

Namjoon steeled himself for a fight, but he was no match for Yoongi. Yoongi was older than him, more powerful than him. He had slain bodies on the battlefield without losing breath. And now, he was going to do the same to Namjoon. Yoongi’s hands wrapped tightly around Namjoon’s neck, and Namjoon choked on a wheezing breath.

Namjoon tried to suck in a shaky breath as his vision splotched. He was a demon. He couldn’t quite die like humans did, but there was an end to all entities, demonic or heavenly, and Yoongi’s power was bitterly overwhelming. Yoongi’s fingers dug into the thin mortal-like flesh of Namjoon, and blood the deep color of ink dribbled out of crescent marks.

“I’ll take into consideration your many years of servitude to me, Namjoon. Your end will be much kinder than the ends of those before you.”

Flowers were peeking through blades of jade-green glass when you finally found yourself outside the rumored garden of the Duke’s first love.

He had gone for the day, and you had bitten the apple of temptation that curiosity had granted you.

You were the duchess; there was no need for you to be so cautious nor feel so guilty. But your gaze darted left and right, careful of any lingering servants, as you pushed your way into the depths of the garden.

Lush flowers greeted you, petals of every shade of the rainbow unfurling and glistening with the morning dew, and you exhaled in soft wonder. The sight was marvelous. The garden was beautiful, and it had been tended to meticulously. The beauty of the garden coupled with the pinpricks of growing despair in your heart as you furthered your way in.

You heard something snap and heard the voices of servants from just outside.

“The Duchess hasn’t been feeling well, hasn’t she?’’ you heard the voice’s echo.

“Ay, it’s unfortunate that the Duke has been too busy to look after her. They used to be so enamored at the beginnin’ of their marriage, but noble marriages…,’’ the responding voice hushed, but you could still hear the last part,” they never really go happy. Especially since rumors been spreading that the Duke still has a first love he can’t forget and only married the Duchess cause she reminded him of ‘er.”

You hurried your pace further in, not wanting to get caught. Your breath hitched, and the agony of those soft words pierced your already aching heart. Your eyes prickled in hot tears. Why, you wanted to scream at yourself as your footsteps quickened and your vision blurred, why were you so weak?

He had treated you so well. He loved you, didn’t he?

Your ankle twisted as your shoe slipped on the wet ground, and you were sent sprawling into the ground, grass and mud staining your dress. You looked pathetic, wet and muddy and close to tears…and then you looked up and made eye contact with the gray statue standing in front of you.

It had been carefully carved in the image of a young girl, holding an armful of flower bouquets—you noticed that the flowers were not made of stone like the rest of her and that they were fresh, as if someone had tenderly made sure to replace them every day—in her arms and beaming widely as her legs raised in a gleeful skip. She looked alive, but most importantly…she looked exactly like you.

From the slope of her nose to the curve of her lips and even to the way her eyes turned up in a playful smile, reminiscent of the naïve you of the past, she was every inch you like you were every centimeter her.

The answer to the previous question rang and echoed painfully in your head: No.

Your tears broke free from its constraints. They dripped down your cheeks like blood drops, and you muffled a sob as the cruel truth dug its blade into your heart and left you painfully bleeding out in a beautiful garden filled with the past’s flowers.

You allow him to embrace you as the waning moonlight slowly aligned itself to match the glowing sunlight. Even when he seemed distracted, and you could tell his thoughts were drifting back to her, you would shamelessly bring him closer to you, spread your legs farther apart and moan more like the whore you were. Anything, you would repeat to yourself, anything to keep him to you.

But if you were willing to do anything for him to love you, why did you find hot tears spilling onto your cheeks as you watched the sleeping him? The moonlight would embrace his skin, light it up like it was alabaster, and you would realize that perhaps the love he had shown you before was like the love an artist gave to a statue: tender but shallow.

Even then, you would lose yourself in your own rosy-painted memories, in which he tenderly cradled your hand and told you how beautiful you had looked the night of the ball. You loved him; you loved him too much.

But why, if you loved him so, did you hide your nausea to yourself? Why did you pick at meals and force yourself to eat them despite the growing urge to vomit? Why did you hide? Did you want to remain eternally beautiful and pure to him, like the innocent girl laughing silently in that wretched garden?

Did he ever love you?

When the hours of moonlight finally clicked to match the hours of daylight, you received your answer.

The moonlight served to guide your clumsy fingers. You were carefully embroidering a delicate lily, though it did not look as lovely as you had hoped, into a pure ivory handkerchief when the door of your shared room with the Duke clicked open.

“My wife.”

His face was solemn as ever, but there was a soft light that glowed in his cool eyes. The tenderness on his face was reminiscent of the kind he used to have for you back in the earlier days of your marriage. You were enthralled, bewitched, and entranced as he took quick paces towards you. He swept you up in his arms, his embrace strong and firm, and the handkerchief slipped from your still figures.

If you had not been immersed in the high of his affection, you would have been despaired over the handkerchief, with its half-finished lily, getting dirty. Your mother, before her death, used to adore lilies. She would smile bittersweetly as the bouquet of lilies delivered from the king dwindled and wilted before smoothing your hair down, her voice dim as she spoke.

“I used to love lilies…They stand for three things: devotion, humility, and…”

The third part seemed to escape your mind, but you found yourself not caring as much as Yoongi’s grip on you tightened.

“My Duke, what are y—?’’ you gasped out in surprise.

His voice cut you off, the sound rough and haggard and…exhilarated.

You felt something in your gut alert you of danger, but you did not care. He was holding you; you melted in his touch.

“My wife, I must ask you a dire question,’’ his voice echoed in the silent room,” Do you love me, my wife…Do you love me?’’

Your response spilled out of your lips as if you were bewitched by a spell. Your words were coated in a pathetic, desperate vulnerability.

“Yes, husband, I love you! I love you, I love you, I love you so much.”

Your breath hitched as his grip strengthened, and your brain was covered in a dizzy haze as you tried to gasp for a deeper inhale of air. He pulled away; you were surprised, briefly, at how cruel his eyes looked in the moonlight despite the warmth exuding from him.

“Good. My wife, I love you. I have a surprise for you, but you must trust me. Hold my hand,’’ he reached his hand out, and your hand was clasped in his iron-cold hand before you could fully process your thought. You blindly trusted him, even when he took out a fine silk ribbon.

It was a beautiful shade of gold, though slightly dirty, but your lips twitched nervously as you noticed small splatters of red dying the fabric. However, Yoongi’s gentle smile never wavered, and like an innocent lamb awaiting slaughter, you closed your eyes and let him tie it around you.

“Perfect. You look beautiful, my wife.”

Your heart skipped a beat. All of the love he had ever shown you before had been subtle. But it poured and oozed out of every word that he had spoken. You were foolishly giddy.

You could feel a slight skip in your step as Yoongi guided you. Step by step, you placed your trust in him. You did not hear any other sound other than the footsteps of Yoongi and you. It was unnerving, almost, the silence in the halls. But even when you heard something squelch, like the carpet had been soaked in some liquid, underneath the wooden soles of your slippers, you did not let your footsteps waver.

You were outside now. Your shoes brushed against grass and grated against stone, and you felt the merciless night wind whip at your hair before slowing down to a gentle breeze. You shivered and sought warmth, but there was no warmth, not even in Yoongi’s hand around yours, outside of the ribbon around your eyes.

“My wife, we are here,” you felt Yoongi let go of your hand, and his fingertips brushed against your cheek as he reached to undo the gold ribbon. The fabric fluttered down, the softness of it remaining on your face as you made petrified eye contact with the statue.

It was her; she held new flowers in her hands. A bundle of lilies sparkled white in the moonlight, and you felt your face go ashy. You remembered the final third meaning of lilies: restored innocence after death.

“Duke…Yoongi, what’s…What’s,’’ you tried to sputter out. Your pupils were dilated from fear, and you did not shake from the cold. No, you trembled from a deep sense of fearful dread. You flung your arms and embraced yourself as the nausea boiled in your gut and rose in your throat like acrid steam.

He got closer to you, and the moonlight illuminated the mania in his eyes and the glint of a blade. There was no calm before the storm; no, this was the storm. You let out a shrill scream and turned to run away.

Your feet tore up grass in your frenzy, but he was the Duke that many had rumored came from hell. He cut down thousands on the battlefield and emerged each time drenched in blood. It was then, as he reached out and grabbed your arm in a callous, bruising grip, that you came to see the monster that lingered in the human shell you had loved.

He shoved you down to the ground, and his voice pitched as he spat out: “The first night that you had died, I had nearly killed them all. I had planned on vengeance, on soaking this damned earth in blood, but I made a deal. The God said if I spared their creation, I could have you back…You would be human, disgusting and impure like the ones who had slain you…but I could change that. Only if I eliminate the stench of humanity from you.”

You scrambled back as he approached and hugged your stomach. You could already feel the sting of the blade, but you still cried out as the blade glinted in his hand.

“Yoongi, I’m pregnant!’’ you kept your eyes firmly on him,” Yoongi, I have your child! Please, please, if you kill me, this child will die!”

The blade in Yoongi’s hand paused as your breath caught in your throat.

His voice was weak and trembled slightly as he spoke. He was so vicious just a second prior, but now he looked ready to collapse. “My…my child…”

You sought to further his hesitation, to save not only yourself but your child too, and it seemed easy enough to begin weeping once more as your emotions soared to a rattled high.

“If you kill me, you kill this child. Our child. You asked me to call you Yoongi when we married,’’ you sucked in a shaky breath,” Didn’t I mean something to you? And if not me, what about our child? I look so much like…so much like her that our baby would surely resemble her too. Please, Yoongi, my husband, please, please, please!’’

His eyes flickered to the blade in his hand and back to the red mark peeking through the neckline of your gown. There was a resolute light that returned to his suddenly brighter red eyes that startled your heart back into a fiercer race in your chest.

No, please, you silently begged him and hugged your stomach.

“We can always,’’ he swallowed, and your eyes stilled in a conflicting hopelessness as he raised the blade back up once more,” When you’re her again, we can always have more children. We’ll have so many, as much as we want; that will be my apology for taking away our first child. You’ll understand…She would understand.”

The blade shing-ed as it pierced downwards through the night towards your chest, and you clenched your eyes shut and tried to shield your unborn child.

The sound abruptly stopped, and you heard a muffled groan accompany a heavy thud against the ground. You peeked open your eyes, and you choked on shock.

The man before you looked exhausted and you saw broken iron clasped around one of his wrists. There was exhaustion rimmed underneath his eyes, but you saw firm courage in them too.

“N…Namjoon! Namjoon, Namjoon, please, please save my child!’’ you were screaming hysterically, your eyes hazy as you refused to let your arms fall from around your stomach.

He glanced back at you. That courage grew, and you felt wretched as the bitter taste of grief bite at your tongue. You knew what you were asking for was selfish. You had been selfish from the beginning.

You were selfish to want a happy ending. You were selfish to yearn for a family of three with the Duke, your child’s chubby fingers placed in the hands of each parent, and you were selfish to want to not lose someone else important to you either.

“Go…Go…Now!’’ he called out to you. “He’ll get up soon; you have to leave!’’

You stumbled back up on weak legs. Tears rose in your swollen eyes.

“Please, Namjoon, I can’t…,’’ you choked on a ragged sob,” I can’t leave you here!’’

“You have to!’’ his eyes darted back to Yoongi’s collapsed form,” I’ll come back for you. So hurry…Go!’’

“Promise! You have to be safe!’’ At the sound of Yoongi—no, the Duke—getting up from the ground, you forced yourself to kick your shoes off, turn around, and run away. As pebbles and branches bit at your naked feet, you could hear the sound of fighting. Please, Namjoon be safe, you prayed.

When you reached outside of the garden, you heard a loud choked yell of pain and closed your eyes shut as tears bit once more at them. Was…Was Namjoon dead? You looked back into the darkness of the maze-like garden, the darkness even more haunting with the grave silence permeating it, and you felt grief swell in your gut. You were sobbing now, ready to collapse into the unforgiving dirt, but Namjoon was willing to risk his life for you. You could not stop now.

You saw a figure standing outside, blocking the path away from the garden. Though it was dark, you managed to make out who he was as you got closer. His previously youthful and cheerful features were carefully set back in a more aged look. It was the aid that the Duke had hired for you: Jungkook.

“My goddess, the demon has sacrificed his life for you. Though you are human, God had sent me to guide you. The demon king had promised that he would not slain any other life in vain, and with the death of the demon, that promise has been unfulfilled. But God is merciful…They will protect you and your unborn child from danger.”

The aid’s voice was stony, unlike the light tone he had adopted before, but somehow, that very sound relaxed you. You had no one else to trust now and no way to live securely with your child.

The angel extended a hand, just like the Duke had extended his hand out to you while plotting to end your life.

“Will you take my hand, and let me protect you for as long as you may live?’’

You stared at his hand…and shook your head.

“God’s human servant humbly cannot agree to this. I do not need your forever protection, angel. Please, as long as you find a place safe for my unborn child, I will do whatever is necessary, but I am not willing to fully take the hand of a stranger so soon after a betrayal.”

You felt a tinge of a smile at Jungkook’s…no the angel’s lips, reminiscent of the days in which you had once felt happiness.

“God has always given their promises carefully. Not many mortals have ever refused the divine help. Many have even dared to push the boundaries of such promises.”

You placed a gentle hand over your stomach.

“As long as my child is safe, to me that is all that matters. Please, angel, help me once to only fulfill security for my baby.”

“Then, take my hand now. I have never witnessed a human refuse the hand of an angel before. If a devout believer were to witness you, would you not be labelled as a sinner?” the angel’s voice was almost teasing, had the sound not been so dry and flat.

“Labelled with this damned red mark, I have been a sinner the day I arrived on this earth, angel. It seems to be in my lineage to be nothing more than a sinner.’’ You wryly spoke and reached out your hand, finally taking his. You glanced once more back at the garden, blackened by the shadowy darkness and stench of death.

As you left this wretched place, where you had found love and had been destroyed by love, where you had been pushed and grown from the feeble girl of the past, where you had made memories despite how brief its actuality had been, the statue of the girl began to crumble and the bouquet of white lilies in her hand began to wilt, and as dust and crumbled petals fell to the ground, they became stained once more in red.

A/n: It’s finally the end of the main story :’) As always, leave a comment or a detailed review if you enjoyed the story.

A special chapter from Yoongi’s perspective and an epilogue will be coming (reply with a 👑 if you aren’t on the taglist yet and want to be updated for those parts), and then Lineage will reach its final final conclusion.

Thank you, and lmk of any mistakes (I never edit sjsjsj)!

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sukirichi · 3 years

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Hi! I hope you're doing okay. So I just had a thot. And idk what to do with it. So Imma just put it here cause your blog is my new favourite. I'm not even joking. I literally devoured everything related to Tokyo Rev on your blog. So here's my theory. Do correct me if you think I'm wrong Sensei!

Bouten husbands and where they liked to be kissed the most/ or is their weakness. (Ps: it's just my opinion. I mean no offense to anyone.)

Mikey~ Kiss him on his shoulders and he'll cry. Cause he's been bearing all the burden of his dark and decaying world for so long that he doesn't even know that he needs to take a minute for himself and rely on others around him. Especially since most ppl around him are willing to give their life and limbs for Mikey. He just can't seem to keep that in mind. So you've taken it upon yourself to remind him frm time to time. Just a little peck on his strong and broad-ish shoulders to remind him that he's not alone. That if nothing, he has you. He always will.

Rindou~ Something about being kissed on his cheeks, especially by his lover, does things to him. Like his cardiovascular muscles do a little somersault in his chest or something. Because yes, it doesn't matter if he's one of the big, scary and irreplaceable executive of Bouten, he still has an unconscious inferiority complex. Sometimes it just skips his mind that despite everything, he too deserves the world. And every once in a while you need to remind him about it. That he doesn't have to be flashy and snarky like his brother. He just needs to be himself and that he is undeniably worthy of love.

Ran~ Not many people are taller than him, you are no exception. So it makes sense that in order to kiss him you need to be on your tippy toes. And still you're only able to reach his neck. So yeah, just kiss him there. Right on his Adam's apple and he's a goner. It doesn't even have to be sexual. Ran is always the one to take charge. It's kind of in his nature and you happily oblige him. But every now and then, you also need to remind him to take a breather That he can just let go and get dotted over for a change. You're more than happy to take care of him, that he needs to be taken care off.

Koko~ This man not only, brings in the big dough for Bouten, but also beats up people while at it. To say that he's always overworked is an understatement. His hands are always doing something, illegal things most of the time. He knows he's no saint. That there's no coming back into the light. He's painfully aware. But once e intertwine your hands together and kiss him on top of his knuckles, he swears that it's his redemption. You're the only light in his dark and dangerous world.

Kaku-chan~ Please. Just kiss this man on his forehead. Please. He's literally out there, ready to give his life for the things he wants to protect. He's always doing that. Protecting the people that have gone astray, who have no more hope left. He's ready to die for them, if it means they'll keep going. So please, just once, just protect him instead. Protect him from the demons he skillfully hided in his head. Protect him from the nightmares that torment him every night. Just protect him for a change. He needs it more than he's willing to admit.

Sanzu~ Okay. Hear me out. He's deranged and he knows it. He knows he's won't bat an eye before painfully torturing someone to death. Heck he'll even do it with a smile plastered on his face. He knows that he's stained in blood almost all the time.(sometimes his own, most of the other times, not his own). He'll even relish it. He knows that he's been tainted with burden of death. He knows that he lives in the shadows. He's not sane. He's not good. He's bad. He's ugly. You can tell that these awful thoughts keep him awake at night. So when they do and he has this almost painful look on his face. Just pull him close and kiss him on his face, over and over. Kiss his scars, kiss his lips, kiss his nose, his eyes. Just don't stop until he's got your point across. That yes, it's true that he's despicable. But you still love him nonetheless.

Ps: Sorry that was too long and kinds got out of hand. But these are just my "thots". Thank you for hearing me out!~ Thot anon

hi i’m doing okay, thanks for asking n i hope you are too !! also aaah i’m glad to know my blog is your new fave, i hope you enjoy more of my future tokrev content 🥺 ALSO YES ITS HEADCANON TIME LETS GO LETS GO

mikey n shoulder kisses 🥺 i hc that mikey is stiff and rigid all the time without knowing. like you said, he has a lot on his mind and draken even said mikey had a heavy ass cross to bear, so imagine the weight and burdens he has to shoulder 🥺 so if you lean into him for a hug then kiss his shoulders, mikey deflates. to him, its like a reminder he doesn’t have to carry it all by himself all the time and poor bb forgets that often

cheek kisses for rindou 🥺 the idea of this big, bad executive infamous for breaking limbs but is actually a sucker for cheek kisses and turns into a soft lil bean when you cup his face and just smother him with love n affection? bless. rindou probably unknowingly exerts too much effort sometimes to prove something - may it be his strength, his power, or how he’s perfectly capable of fighting by himself - he’ll have that voice at the back of his head that he needs to do something. giving him cheek kisses grounds him and elicits butterflies in his stomach bcos he realizes that, “oh, i don’t have to try so hard. silly me...now more cheek kisses, please.”

ran and neck kisses !! ON THE FLOOR RN, TELL ME MORE. but yes omg i also hc that ran is such a giver and grown up to look for others the way he does for rindou, so in his head, he’s kind of drilled it into himself that he has to be the one in the lead - not necessarily in a mikey way - but in a “he needs to take charge and take his responsibilities seriously” kind of thing. like mikey, ran is probably often deep in thought as well despite his teasing mannerisms, that when you kiss his neck he can’t help but soften. he enjoys being doted on. loves to be the one on the receiving side. has the sweetest smile on his face when he gets a lil ticklish and he just feels like he’s on cloud nine <33

knuckle kisses for koko 😫 everything you said was on point !! his hands are probably so tired from fighting and counting bills all day, not to mention the amount of paperwork he has to do bcos who else will do them ?? no one knows the inner system of koko and how it works as well as koko does, and he wants to do his job right. he gets a little too absorbed in his work, however, that koko gets a little confused when you take his hands away from whatever he’s working on to leave little kisses at the pads of his knuckles, maybe even massaging his hands or playing with his fingers to help him relax a bit. and you know how koko is so good at what he does bcos its all he knows, but at the same he probably hates how he treads on this dark path ?? so when you kiss his knuckles, he feels relieved. like everything will be okay and second chances are real n something he’s worthy of

omg now this is my favorite - kakucho + foreahead kisses. forehead kisses are always so intimate and soothing in a sense. like come here so you can kiss him on the forehead, watch the way his eyes flutter close and a smile tugs at his lips when your lips trail down to his scar, all the while your hands are cupping his face with such tenderness he never really knew of. kakucho is so used to being the tough guy with his rough childhood that it almost feels surreal. surreal that he’s in bed, with you, safe and sound and you’re kissing his forehead so comfortingly he doesn’t have to worry about putting his walls down for a second. he feels safe. he feels at home. but most of all, he knows he’s not alone and he has you - his family

kissing sanzu’s scars 🥺 everything you said was beautiful n i can totally see it happening !! as much as we all know sanzu takes great pleasure and finds entertainment in what he does, it sinks down a little too late. when he’s not high, that’s when he feels the lows. when the blood on his hands are dried, that’s when he realizes it gets harder to wash them off until it stains deep all the way into his soul. then his scars. he sees his scars and remembers how he has to hide them at some point. he stays awake at night and oddly enough, silent and unmoving. and what better way to ease his worries than to pull him close and just to kiss his scars that he thinks are only one of the ways the darkness - the ugliness - of his soul shows through. keep him close and kiss his scars. sanzu may not always be in the right mind to understand your words, but the simple gesture of showing love and acceptance to a part of him that makes him a whole will engrave deep into his heart. leave him butterfly kisses. kiss him from everywhere to his eyes until they flutter close to sleep. kiss his nose adoringly until they scrunch so cutely. kiss his lips until its your taste that overwhelms him. and kiss his scars to remind him his imperfections are accepted and loved

#asks with naoya's trophy wife #thot anon #ANON I LOVED THESE THANK U FOR SHARING ME UR THOTS 😭#I loved them all especially the kaku n sanzu one 🥺#i swear you guys keep making me soft for sanzu LMAOOO #👔 ― bonten! husbands exclusives #long post #unedited

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somewhatgreatexpectations · 3 years

Text

Unforgettable (Wanda Maximoff/ Reader)

Hello, everyone!

Songs used: "Unforgettable" By Nat King Cole (1952)

Summary: Wanda is forced to delve into her past as you deal with some unexpected obstacles trying to get back to her.

“I know, she does look shocked to meet the real us, doesn’t she?” Agnes- Agatha said to her rabbit with a laugh. Wanda couldn’t help but feel frustration creep under her skin at the air of indifference Agatha was speaking in. It was clear she couldn’t trust a word that came out of the other woman’s mouth, so she decided to take matters in her own. She would just look into the other woman’s mind to get answers. The perks of having powers.

Except… Nothing.

Rather than being able to see into the other woman’s mind she was met with a wall. Even in the early stages of having her powers this had never happened and Wanda couldn’t help but feel unnerved. “Oh, that’s adorable.” Agatha laughed. “My thoughts are not available to you, toots. They never were. So, don’t wear yourself out. It’s a waste of time. We have much more… pressing matters to tend to.”

Wanda clenched her jaw, refusing to play into the game Agatha clearly wanted her to play. “Where are my children?” Her blood boiled when Agatha mockingly repeated her question back to her.

Again, Agatha laughed. “Do you have an accent or not, sweetheart? Make up your mind.”

“Where are they?” Wanda repeated, flexing her hands to manipulate her powers only to be met with the same resistance from before. Her blood ran cold. This had never happened.

A chilling smile crossed Agatha’s features. “Aww. Sweetheart. Don’t you know? Your magic is useless here. Much like yourself.” Before Wanda could even consider reacting Agatha flicked her wrist and Wanda felt her arms get pinned tightly behind her back along with her legs as she flew forward. The invisible vice like grip tightening as Agatha flexed her fingers. Wanda groaned in discomfort.

Agatha began speaking again but Wanda could barely process the words as she panted in pain. “Basic protection spells. Honestly, how dim are you?” Wanda finally allowed herself to look around the room, taking in the strange markings that littered the wall. “These are runes, Wanda. In a given space, only the witch that cast the runes can use her magic. Do you know anything?”

“Who are you?” Wanda demanded.

“Who are you?” Agatha countered. “I was so patient. Playing along with your twisted little fantasy. Waiting for you to reveal yourself.” She smirked. “I will admit, sending fake Anna and fake Pietro seemed to push your buttons. I thought Amelia- sorry, Ellie, would have sent you over the edge but you didn’t seem to care if your wife mingled with someone else. Just like I’m sure she’s doing now.”

Wanda’s jaw clenched tightly as she pulled at the invisible restraints. “Leave Y/n out of this.”

It was clear Agatha was amused by Wanda's anger. “Oh, sweetheart. How could I do that when she’s the easiest way to get to you? And Amelia was more than willing to be an active participant in all of this to get Y/n back.”

In response Wanda leveled Agatha with a hard stare, not giving her the satisfaction. “The silent treatment? Oh, well. Guess I’ll have to talk to myself.” Agatha mockingly pouted. “When I sensed such powerful spells cast all at once… I knew I had to see it for myself. Mind control is a classic… But having thousands of people under your thumb, each with their own complex stories? That’s something special, baby.”

“I spent years practicing to be able to create one believable illusion, but you, Wanda… Westview under your spell? Every little detail is in place. You’re even running illusions all the way at the edge of town! Magic on autopilot.” Agatha pushed a hand through her hair, her eyes deranged. “What’s your secret? I need you to tell me how you did this.”

Wanda’s brow furrowed. “I didn’t do anything. I’m not-” Before she could finish, Agatha flicked her hand and Wanda was sent crashing into the walls on either side of her. Grunts of pain falling from her lips before Agatha stopped her directly in front of herself once again.

“I tried to be gentle, I did. To wake you up from this stupid little fantasy you have but it’s clear you’d rather fall apart than face your issues, little witch. You left me no choice.” Agatha stepped closer to Wanda. “What was it you said to your fake brother? You felt empty. Like you were drowning. Endless nothingness… Let’s start there.”

Wanda wordlessly watched the woman pluck a hair from her hair and chant words she didn’t understand under her breath. The strand glowing purple as it floated over to the door.

“It’s been fun playing pretend, Wanda… But now it’s time to look at the real thing.” Agatha whispered menacingly. “Let’s go.”

Agatha waved her hand and Wanda went crashing to the floor. “No.” She gritted out, her eyes locked on Agatha, refusing to look at the familiar door. She knew what would await behind that door.

“Did you forget that I have your children lock in this basement? It wasn’t a request.”

Before Wanda could respond she could hear the voices of Billy and Charlie call out to her behind the door and she knew she had no other choice but to enter.

______________

As you were flying lower to the ground your eyes caught the sigh of someone waving their arms noticeably. You needed to get to Wanda though. You needed to see her. To tell her you were sorry. That you were there for her… That you loved her.

Begrudgingly you flew down, you would just check if this person was okay before getting to Wanda.

When your feet touched ground, you were practically knocked over by Ellie leaping into your arms. “Y/n! You have to help me!” She cried desperately, tears streaming rapidly down her cheeks.

The sight overwhelmed you as you tried to maintain your composure. “Ellie, what’s wrong?” You asked cautiously, placing your hands on her shoulders to hold her back.

“My names not Ellie. It’s me, Y/n. Amelia.” She grabbed your hands and tugged you forward slightly. “Wanda is trying to keep us apart.”

You stumbled back with her words, not expecting it. “No. I don’t know who you are, but I know Wanda. I know I love her and that I’ve always loved her. I’ve seen it in my mind.”

Almost immediately the tears stopped in their tracks. Ellie- Amelia stared you down. The sight sent a chill down your spine as your fingers began tingling with energy. “Oh, Y/n, sweetheart. That’s just not true.” You noticed she began playing with a small device in her hands. “Maybe you just need a little… encouragement.”

Your fingers sparked with nervous energy, as a pit began forming in your stomach. “What do you mean?”

Before she could reply, Anna and Pietro strolled up. “There’s something about music that messes with her head.” Anna said flippantly, as she picked at her nails. “Try that.”

Pietro smirked. “If that doesn’t work I can help you out with that little device you have there, hot stuff.” He added with a wink to Amelia.

Amelia tilted her head thoughtfully. “That won’t be necessary. Agatha taught me a little trick.”

With a small wave of her hand, a purple fog drifted from her fingers and disappeared into your mind.

“Hello, beautiful.” You looked up from your place on the floor of the training room, smiling slightly when you saw it was Amelia.

“Hi, doll.” You replied back, the term of endearment tasting bitter on your tongue. It felt out of place. You tried to ignore it. This was your girlfriend now after all.“Here to get schooled in some hand-to-hand combat?”

A laugh fell from her lips. “Oh, please. I could take you any day, Y/ln.”

You smirked up at her. “That’s cute that you think that. My mentor is Steve Rogers. I trained with Natasha Romanoff almost daily. Captain America and Black Widow. My skill levels are unmatched.” You said easily as you brushed imaginary dirt off your shoulders.

“Yeah, yeah. We get it. You were an Avenger. Blah, blah, blah. That’s really not as impressive as you th-” Amelia squealed slightly as you swept her legs out from under her, pining her almost immediately.

With a grin, you looked down at her. “You were saying?”

You noticed the way her gaze fell to your lips and you couldn’t help but smirk again. Before you could do anything, she flipped you over, pining your hands above your head. “I was saying, I would’ve thought Black Widow taught you better than that.”

Her grip on your wrists loosened slightly as you tugged her down. Your lips meeting in a kiss.

Blinking rapidly, you shook away the fog in your mind as you refocused on the world around you. “Do you see now?” Amelia called out to you. “It wasn’t Wanda. It was me you were with.”

All the pieces of memories you had seen the last few days flashed in your mind. The love you had for Wanda flashed in your mind. There would never be anyone else. “No, Amelia. I’m sorry, but it’s her-”

“-it’s always been her. I’m sorry that I didn’t say anything sooner, but I don’t want to hurt you anymore than I already have.” You winced at the tears that seemed to be forming in Amelia’s eyes. “I can’t love you when I have no room in my heart for someone else. Even if Wanda and I can’t be together. Even if I can’t forgive her.”

Your eyes widened at the memory that it seemed you were able to recall on your own. “I told you I was in love with Wanda. Why are you doing this?”

Amelia gritted her teeth. “Because Wanda didn’t deserve you, Y/n. I did. When Agatha approached me and told me this was a guaranteed way to win you back I knew I had to do it.”

You shook your head. “I'm never going to love you back, Amelia. I need to get to Wanda.”

“Ralph, now.” Amelia told Pietro, tossing him the small device. He caught it and sped over to you.

You felt the small prick against the back of your neck and then everything went dark.

__________________

The trauma of having to relieve losing her parents and experiencing the effects of the mind stone again weighed heavily on her. The pain was all fresh and Wanda wasn't sure she could take anymore.

Then she saw the familiar sight of elevator doors.

For a moment Wanda was sure her legs would give out underneath her. She knew that behind this door was peace. The peace she wanted her mind to remain in forever that didn't exist anymore.

The simplicity that was behind that door didn't exist anymore but it was something she longed to see.

Agatha made a quiet noise of surprise as Wanda moved forward on her own, rather than reluctantly as she had before.

The doors slid open as Wanda felt the cool breeze blow through her hair. The imagine of her younger self sat looking out at the city before her. “So, where are we now?”

“The roof of the Avengers compound.” Wanda said quietly. “It’s where Y/n and I fell in love. No matter how hard I tried to shut her out, she never gave up. Pietro was dead, and I was in a new country. I had never felt so alone… She saved me from drowning.”

Wanda’s heart thudded painfully in her chest she saw the younger version of herself open her mouth to speak. She knew what was coming next. “Y/n.”

You stepped in between Agatha and Wanda a small smile on your face as the younger version of herself never looked away from you.

Wanda’s breath hitched because looking back at it now, it was clear she had always been in love with you.

“Um, hi.” You began, bashfully rubbing the back of your neck. “I wanted fresh air and it’s such a nice day out and it looked like you could use company. I mean, not that you have to have company if you don't want it. I can go if you want or I can just sit here with you and-”

Wanda couldn’t help but laugh slightly as she interrupted you. “Y/n. You’re rambling.”

Your cheeks flushed, and the current Wanda couldn’t help but smile adoringly at the sight. Of how oblivious you both were. “Right. Sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude.”

The young version of herself never let her eyes leave yours. A stark contrast from the girl who couldn’t even look at you for more than a minute when you first met. “You don’t?”

The redness on your cheeks darkened. “Well…” You winced. “I guess I did since I knew you’d probably be here and I just-”

“I like being around you.” Wanda whispered at the same time you said the words.

“Even if we don’t talk most of the time.” You finished shyly.

Her eyes shone slightly under the fading light. “What are your intentions now?”

You shifted slightly from foot to foot. “I think my intentions would be whatever you prefer.”

Wordlessly she pat the space next to her. You smiled as you took a seat next to her, looking out over the skyline, your shoulders brushing. “Wanda, I…” She tilted her head to look at you. “I don’t want to pretend I know exactly what you’re going through because we all fight battles that no one knows about… But if you ever need to talk or just have someone around I’m here for you. If that would give you even just a little comfort.”

Wanda’s eyes flashed with controlled annoyance. “What makes you think that talking about it would give me comfort?” You stayed quiet. “Or sitting here with you?”

Wanda flinched at the tone her past self used and watched the way you began spinning the rings on your fingers anxiously. You were nervous, she could see that now.

She wanted to yell at herself for all the time she spent pushing you away when she should have been pulling you closer.

“I just thought that-”

“The only thing that would bring me comfort is seeing him again.” Wanda cut you off sharply, her eyes shining with unshed tears and her voice thick with emotion.

Wanda could see the understanding in your eyes. You knew exactly what she was going through, and she had no idea at the time.

You nodded faintly, shifting your gaze back to the skyline. “Sorry.” You said quietly. You pulled out your phone to play music, the default to being around Wanda. A silent support.

“Never before has someone been more… Unforgettable. In every way, and forever more that’s how you’ll stay.”

The music made tears well up in Wanda’s eyes because this was the first song you had played that she had allowed herself to actually listen to. The silent messages you were sending her. The walls you were breaking without even realizing it.

“I’m sorry.” She eventually mumbled.

You turned to face her, your brows furrowed in concern. “Don’t be. It’s fine, Wanda.”

A pained smile spread across her lips. “It’s just… I’m so tired.” She inhaled sharply and the glistening in her eyes became more apparent. “It’s like this wave washing over me, again and again. It knocks me down and when I try to stand up, it just comes for me again. And I… It’s just gonna drown me.”

The defeat in her voice made your heart clench as you fought the urge to hold her, to take her hand. “It may feel like it’s all sorrow right now, but there’s more.” You said quietly. Wanda’s stared back at you with curiosity. “The pain you’re in is a telltale sign of the love you gave. Of the unwavering strength of your love… because what is grief is not love persevering?” For a moment you just stared at one another.

The abrupt sound of a loud ad startled you both as you jumped. A laugh fell from your lips because of the terrible timing. “I really should start paying for ad free. Sorry.” You smiled at her nervously.

The surprise on your face was obvious when she smiled back at you. “No, it was funny.” She replied with a chuckle.

You made a face. “It is kind of funny that an Avenger can’t afford ad free music, isn’t it?”

“Mhm.” Wanda hummed, her eyes twinkling in amusement.

The sound of her laughter faded as you both stared at one another, the intensity of emotions left unspoken making the air heavy with tension. Eventually you both turned your gaze back to the skyline, your shoulders still brushing.

A single tear fell down Wanda’s cheeks as she stepped further onto the roof, the image of you both faded away as she looked around.

“So, to recap… Parents dead, brother dead, Y/n pretty much dead.” Wanda’s face crumpled in pain as the tears fell down her cheeks more steadily. Agatha continued on. “What happened when she wasn’t there to be your life raft anymore, Wanda?”

Wanda roughly wiped away the tears that wouldn’t stop falling. “I can’t do this anymore.”

“You’re right there! Tell me how you did it.” Wanda’s chest heaved with the weight of the emotions. “They tried to take Y/n, but you weren’t going to let that happen.”

Wanda’s eyes widened slightly as she thought back to the moment. “I wasn’t going to let that happen.” She repeated as she marched through the familiar door.

Anxiously she watched herself find your empty room, she watched the panic in her every move, she watched Hayward talk about you like you were nothing.

Her heart broke all over again as she watched herself hover over your practically lifeless body.

“I can’t feel you.” She whispered brokenly, the pain in her chest overcoming her. The sensation composing her entire being as everything within her collapsed. She was alone, and she knew she wouldn’t recover.

Her eyes glowed red as she waved a hand, all of the doctors in the room turning away from your body on her command. Hayward turning away as well before he could even react.

Carefully she made her way over to you and took you in her arms, her hands glowing as she carried you away through a back entrance where no one would see her leave.

Cautiously, she placed you in the passenger seat of her car and began driving. Her heart thudding heavily with each passing moment that you didn't wake up. The only thing that brought her a small semblance of comfort was the sight of your chest still weakly rising and falling with each breath.

After an hour or so of driving she pulled into an empty driveway. “This- this was supposed to be a surprise… I bought it when we were in Scotland... For when I was finally able to propose. For when we were finally able to start our lives together. Our happy ending.”

Tears began falling rapidly down her cheeks. “We were supposed to be a happy ending.” She whispered brokenly. “I just want you to be able to see it b-before you go. You deserve more than to have your last moments in that room.” Her words were shaky as if it took all she had to even get them out. Because it did.

Wanda made her way out of the car and carefully carried you out to the middle of the empty lot. “I love you, Y/n. So much.” She whispered, noticing the way your breath was becoming weaker and weaker by the minute. "I love you, I love you, I love you."

Slowly she sunk to the ground, still holding you in her arms. The pain in her chest growing unbearable. She couldn’t breathe. All she felt was pain. Broken sobs fell from her lips as she watched the color steadily fade from your face. The steady thrum of your heart rate against her fingertips fading away.

With a scream of agony red burst from her chest and you began floating in the air, gently wrapped in the red. Quickly the energy expanded and expanded. The house appearing from nothing as your feet slowly touched the floor. The hospital gown that you were in moments before gone and replaced with an old-fashioned dress. Your eyes were still closed as the red energy continued to stream out of Wanda.

When the red faded away, Wanda was left breathless by the sight. All she could see was you. Her eyes watered when she met your eyes again. The eyes she had spent weeks begging to see open again.

You, standing before her with the same smile you wore the first time that you met. Your eyes looking at her with all the love you had before it all went wrong. That was all she ever wanted.

Tentatively she stepped forward, as if one wrong move would make you disappear. The outfit she was wearing transforming into an old fashioned dress as well.

The smile she gave you was loving as her eyes shone with feelings she hadn’t been able to feel in weeks. Happiness. “Wanda. Darling. I’ve missed you.” You said sincerely. “Should we stay in tonight?”

You turned on the radio before meeting her in front of the couch.

“That’s why, darling, it’s incredible that someone so unforgettable thinks that I am unforgettable too.”

As the music washed over you both, you took a seat on the couch wrapping an arm around Wanda, pulling her closer as her hand lifted to glide over your cheek. Her fingertips brushing along your jaw lovingly until they landed on the back of your neck and pulled you closer. Your lips met in a sweet kiss and Wanda happily gave herself over to the moment. To you.

Wanda watched the moment with an aching heart as the scene before her faded away. Suddenly she heard the sound of clapping in the distance. She cautiously made her way forward, squinting against the bright overhead lights.

“Bravo.” Agatha called sarcastically before snapping her fingers and disappearing into a haze of purple smoke.

Before Wanda could react, she heard the desperate cries of her children. “Mom! Mom! Help us!”

“Please! Please, help us!” Continued as she ran to the door and into the bright daylight.

Panic coursed through her veins as she ran down the street frantically trying to find the twins. Her chest tightening as her breathing became almost impossible.

A moment later she came to a stop before Agatha. The sight making her stomach turn. Agatha held the twins hostage as the purple force wrapped around their necks, preventing them from escaping. “I know what you are.” Agatha called out, but all Wanda could focus on was the pain her children were in.

Her hands began to glow as she made a weak attempt to reassure them. “It’s okay, babies. It’s okay. I’m here.”

“You have no idea how dangerous you are. You’re supposed to be a myth. A being capable of spontaneous creation and here you are… Using it to make breakfast for dinner!” Agatha’s lips curled in disgust.

The glow in Wanda’s hands intensified. “Let go of my children!”

“Oh yes, your children. And Y/n. And this whole little life you’ve made… This is Chaos Magic, Wanda… And that makes you... the Scarlet Witch.”

And we have concluded with part 8! One final part after this!

If you would like to actually read what happens in SWORD with Hayward its in part 13 of "Love Goes" which I will tag here. And a nice conversation that they had about feeling like drowning is in part 1 of "Love Goes" which I will tag here.

Ironically, I wrote that scene about drowning before episode 8 of Wandavision came out so it kind of messed with the flashback scene when I was writing it.

Anyway, that's all. As always, I hope you all enjoyed! Thoughts and comments always welcome! :)

Taglist:

@theofficialzivadavid // @tquick99 // @marrymemcgrath // @afuckingshituniverse // @pxterstrk // @aimezvousbrahms // @ensorcellme // @sapphicshots // @daisybri7

#wanda #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda marvel #wanda maximov #wanda maximoff fic #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda x y/n #wandavision

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