#those damn genies

[evilminji]

You know... >.>

My Dad always used to tell me, if I get a Genuine Genie(tm)? Get a lawyer first. Before I make my Wishes(tm), so they can help me word them correctly.

Obviously, a human lawyer would not be foolproof... BUT! What about a Ghost Lawyer?

Like? Obviously Desiree would be PISSED. How DARE you twist HER wish twisting! Her THING is "what you believe is your heart's desire always comes at a terrible cost" which is what she DIED to learn.

So obviously she would NEVER, willingly, bend her Obsession for ANYONE. And you'd have to make a DAMN good case to that Lawyer for why he ISNT breaking the law by helping you. Probably some "you can: save the life of an unconscious person against their will/shove an unobservant person OFF the train tracks, even if they get hurt, to save their life" clause.

Like? Using a ghosts Obsession against them? Bad. Illegal.

Using it against their will, to save OTHER ghosts, who are in immediate danger? Not illegal, but they will be PISSED. Still not great though, you will want to apologize and fast.

So like??? Reality Bending Power. Patrick Star Method of "what if we MOVED the city... somewhere else?" Considered at 1am. Team of Ghost Laywers, acquired.

Amity and all Limnals are REMOVED from the DP-verse.

Wish worded juuuuust so. Any ghost that forms there? Yoink! Instantly removed to the Zone. Natural Portals? Cut off. Let the whole Reality fade out at an accelerated rate, as no NEW energy is fed into the system. Entropy will do, what entropy does. Exactly as they wished it.

They hated Death so much, they speed up the heat death of their ENTIRE universe by Eons. Congratulations, you guys "Won". Enjoy the wildly more fragile flora, fauna, and general ecosystems. Now that none of you have that ambient Ectoplasm strengthening your bodies. Yeah, the things you used to shrug off? Those are gonna maim or kill you now.

Doesn't MATTER if you "learn your lesson" though! Cause this is WAY past that point! This is "cutting off the tumor before it kills us" territory, and buddy? Amity ISNT the tumor. Go forth a grow, just like you wanted.

They won't be here to fix your messes anymore.

Because Danny got himself a dictionary thick "I Wish..." contract. Which was worded, as it needs to be, in one loooooooong run on sentence. Shouted "I Wish what's written on THIS, as it is currently, and without any form of editing or negotiation!" As fast as he could. Yote the document in Desiree's direction. And Flew like an INCANDESCENTLY pissed off Genie was trying to set his everything of fire.

Which she was.

Thankfully, Paulina came in clutch with her History of all things Jewelry, world fashions, and Make-Up knowledge. That, coupled with the Power Of Rich Friends(tm)? (Sam. Her mother was THRILLED to take her Jewelry and clothing shopping for something other then blacks and dark purple. They went on a jet setting whurl-wind tour. Sam actually kinda liked a some of what she found.)

They have Apology Bribes.

They shamelessly HIDE behind the mountain of Apology Bribes, while they explain themselves. Is Desiree HAPPY? No. But those bracelets are magnificent and she DOES deserve nice things. Those silks will really bring out her eyes. And she... DOES... admit...

Maybe...

That things are not... SAFE. Any longer. Danny TRIES. Everyone else can see it. And he's made incredible strides! Even convinced his lunatic parents. Though they're still not quite POPULAR. (WAY too pushy and invasive with their questions, for most people.) But the fanatics in white?

They nearly killed Box Lunch. If her father hadn't BEEN there...

And the poor man will have that scar on his back for the rest of his afterlife. Desiree can see why Danny is pushing. Does she LIKE it? No. But...

She supposes she will content herself with the suffering of the Fanatics in White and all who support them. THEIR wishes, twisted. Their ugly heart's desires.

Fine.

"SO YOU WISH IT. SO IT SHALL BE!"

And? The ghost town of what WOULD of one day grown into Amity, had the witch's there not been found by those they had fled from, which sits in long rotted ruins, amongst the trees in nowhere Illinois? Poof! Two "Towns" are switched.

The roads out of town coming to a clean line stop, meeting not even goat paths. Just trees. Old growth.

But it's not ALL of Town, is it? Faces missing. New, confused, faces from every corner of the map, taking their place. No Limnal left behind. No supporter of the GIWs genocide, brought along. Family's kept together where they could be. But by the few, scared and upset, green flashing eyes of children in the crowd?

It seemed for some, it was easier to fear and hate, then love their children.

Already they were being gathered up by school teachers and PTA parents. As everyone tried to figure out what had happened. Concerned, quite muttering a dull roar as everyone tries to coordinate.

Red Huntress joins Danny and Dani in the Sky. She doesn't get a word in. Wanted to know what the HELL was going on. She was with her dad in Chicago! Dani was in Taiwan! Literally! As in, sitting in a SUBWAY station one second, the next? Outside!

But they don't get to demand those answers. Because there is a sonic boom on the horizon. And then? Floating... weird... not ghosts?

Uuuuuuhhhh?

Hi?

That much blue... sure is a Statement. Like the cape and... bloooomers? Shorts. Bikini bottoms? It.. it's a Cool Look, dude! No, really. They are being VERY supportive here! If YOU like it? That's the only thing that matters!

Red Huntress smacks the Danny/i's Repeated upside their heads and demans to know what the Not-Ghosts are doing in their airspace.

Oh YEAH. Good point! What she said! And can it WAIT? They're kinda going through A Thing right now...

Kon? Wants it on record he loves these guys. They're hilarious. The LOOK on Clark's FACE?? He wishes he could frame it. Preserve it for future generations. Thing is? There was NOT a town here a second ago.

Well, bout 30 minutes or so, but you get the idea. One moment? Tree noises. Bam! Thousands of people! Obviously the checked it out. Only to be met with two... three maybe? Heros who have NO IDEA who they are.

Clear Reality warping shenanigans. Might be time travel or multiverse. Question is... are they STAYING? And if SO? What now...

@hdgnj @ailithnight @the-witchhunter @nerdpoe @dcxdpdabbles @mutable-manifestation @hypewinter

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dc x dp #dcxdp #dc x dp prompt #danny phantom #minji's writing

[moremaybank]

I would just like to say that s2/3 Rafe OR Trevor from Hellraiser is absolutely the kind of guy to slap your hand away as he’s fucking your brains out in missionary.

Like it’s just becoming a lot and you can’t deal and the hand on his abdomen is to give him some kind of hint but he’s not having it 😵‍💫😵‍💫 he’s so lost in how good you feel but he also needs you to feel him.

“You can take it, baby, I know you can.. fuckin’ know you can, don’t try to move me. Keep givin’ me this pussy, I know you can take it”

genie, baby, how could you do this to me? (please keep doing it). 18+, mdni.

Rafe's going in for the kill, overpowering every one of your senses, and it's so, so good, but so mind-boggling at the same time; how much pleasure he can provide you with, free of remorse once you’re completely exhausted.

It doesn’t matter how many times he makes you cum, he always wants for more. And he’ll get it.

That’s for damn sure.

"Don't you wanna make daddy proud, princess? You're doing so well for me. You can do this, I know it."

"I-I can't, feels too good," you whine.

He ignores you, too wrapped up in the way your warm, wet pussy is encasing his cock. He's too lost in how you feel around him and it's hard for him to even catch his breath.

Your manicured hand strokes down his sternum, down to the indentations of his abs, pushing at him and trying to get him to slow down and take it easy on you.

“Please, daddy. Don’t think I can take it anymore,”

“‘Course you can,” he assures you. “You can take it, baby, I know you can. Don’t try to move me. Don’t fight it. Keep givin’ me this pussy, I know you can take it.”

He yanks the hand you have plastered on his abdomen and pushes it beside your head, restraining you as he now towers completely over your body. He leans on his elbows and his fingers intertwine with yours as he slips into you deeper.

“Rafe,” you plead.

Tears are flowing down your heated cheeks, and your legs begin to quiver as you get closer and closer to cumming again. All other thoughts have left your brain. All you have on your mind is him.

Rafe’s nose nudges your jaw, and he shakes his head.

“Uh uh. What’s my name in here, baby?”

“Daddy,” you sob. “Please.”

“Fuck, keep crying. Gettin’ so fuckin’ close. Look at those tears. So goddamn pretty.”

Your sore and exhausted walls begin to squeeze at him, almost cutting off his circulation as you fall over the edge. Your moans mix with your cries for him, and it’s heavenly.

Like music to his ears.

“Shit, gonna fill you up. Such a good girl for me. So fuckin’ proud of my girl.”

concepts

#₊‧°𐐪 daydreams 𐑂°‧₊ #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron headcanon #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron brainrot #rafe cameron brain rot #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #obx #obx x reader #obx smut #obx imagine #obx headcanon #obx blurb #obx brainrot #obx brain rot #outer banks #outer banks x reader #outer banks smut #outer banks imagine #outer banks headcanon #outer banks blurb #outer banks brainrot #outer banks brain rot #drew starkey

[fillinforlater]

Monday of Appreciation: Part 102

Hello everyone, Smite here!

First MoA post in the new era. What has changed? Not that much, really. I'll still list a couple of stories I found good below and tell you why you should read them and leave love for the writers. It's insane to me how many writers are attempting Kinktober and really release fics every damn day. One of those (mostly short) smuts is even on this ranking!

Update: I am writing. Slowly. My work is spread across multiple pieces so I don't know when one of them gets finished. Patience, friends.

Here we go!

-1-

@iznsfw: Day Off ft. Xiaoting

IZ when normal smut: GOAT-esque

IZ when commission: LITERAL GOAT

I can't stretch how fucking GENIUS this 10k threesome with fucking Xiaoting is. Really, I can't stretch it, like I can't stretch her pussy. okay wait what. IZ has done it again, and I'm soooooo close do doing a Kep1er agenda post, because there is 0% pureness in that group.

-2-

@ggidolsmuts: Bases Loaded, Holes Filled ft. Xiaoting, Yujin, Mashiro

Ahem, agenda time:

WE. NEED. MORE. KEP1ER. SMUTS. And if you think there are enough, you are wrong, and you will be wrong. The best way to write more Kep1er is to write more Kep1er in a Kep1er fic. The more members, the merrier. Thank you, dear comrade ddeun for doing your part, now it's up to YOU to spread the Kep1er agenda!

-3-

@okaylikesmomo: Exchange Pt. 1: Behind the Stage ft. BLACKPINK

BLACPINK SLUTS BLACPINK SLUTS BLACPINK SLUTS BLACPINK SLUTS BLACPINK SLUTS BLACPINK SLUTS BLACPINK SLUTS BLACPINK SLUTS BLACPINK SLUTS BLACPINK SLUTS BLACPINK SLUTS BLACPINK SLUTS OKAY QT<3 BLACPINK SLUTS BLACPINK SLUTS BLACPINK SLUTS BLACPINK SLUTS BLACPINK SLUTS

-4-

@essentiallyleaf: Kinktober Day 6: Dacryphilia ft. Karina

This mf posts like 100 things a day and has literally done Kinktober up until this point, so you might wonder why I picked this part. Well, it's because Karina, deepthroat and fucking dacryphilia. Fuck, shit makes me rabid.

-5-

@existslikepristin: Joy, but Genie index ft. Joy

This is more than just a simple one shot story or series. Our dear ELP does voting at the end of each part which determine in which the story might go. It's a great mixture of decision making and unpredictability because ELP has a blooming fantasy. The premise is basically that Joy is a Genie, you have three wishes and it's definitely gone sexual.

-6-

@dreamcatchers-husband: Don't give in ft. Handong

Oh, you better give in and read this, because there is [REDACTED] at the end.

What? You thought I'd spoil what happens in this fic? No, definitely not. Give Handong some love and some dong (otherwise she'd only be Han (haha (I'm in misery, kill me))).

-7-

@braaan: In all the ways that matter ft. Yunjin

So idol x fan fics are... like the simplest, most basic stereotype in kpop fanfiction. Put a couple of twists on it and it's already getting more interesting, but if you can actually do a unique story that has me engaged in more than just "Yunjin is literally sex incarnate, breed" you got yourself a good fic.

Look, this is a good fic, reeeead it!

That's it for today. Feel free to send me asks. Have a nice time, until we meet again on MoA!

#mondayofappreciation #kpop smut #female idol smut #girl group smut #male reader insert

[freshlyrage]

Running Like Water

The Holiday Special and Homecoming

pairing: Javier Peña x OFC

fic warnings: NSFW Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI) language, strained family relationships, mentions of drug abuse, discussions of insecurities and body image issues, daddy and mommy issues

fic tags: Best friends younger sister, Life-long crush, Friends to lovers, Unrequited love, slow burn, Push and Pull, Small Town Dynamics, Secret Relationships, latina MC, Fluff and Angst, OFC!Jessica Alba face claim, sorry Lorraine I’m bringing you into this, Time jumps, 2 year age gap, pre-canon

word count: 5.2k

a/n:

Merry Christmas to those who celebrate. Happy Holidays to all. Here's my little gift of a few short stories about the holidays in RLW. And yes... finally I have wrapped up the Homecoming story.

I listened to an awful lot of christmas songs while writing this, if anyone is interested I could attach a playlist (The Christmas Song by Nat "King" Cole is a must listen for this).

This is for you @angelofsmalldeath-codeine merry christmas beloved!

Thanksgiving 1977

By the time Andrea begins zipping up her sweater while walking home from school she realizes that perhaps her oh so thrilling friendship with Javier Peña was only a summer thing. On the last sticky day of august he ruffled her hair and joked about her sun freckles. Sitting at the lake’s dock, shoulder to shoulder a thirteen year old Andrea shares an orange with fifteen year old Javier. He tells her, her nose looked like a chocolate chip cookie, god forbid Javier even slightly throws a compliment her way. Andrea balls her hands in fists with a grin when she says thank you, her brother scoffing from the other edge of their lake dock, “He wasn’t complimenting you, you idiot.” He calls with a snort, Genie pinches his arm and he yelps. Javi looks over his tan shoulder at his best friend and laughs along. Her face falls when Javier doesn’t correct Frankie but instead pushes off away from her and runs to the other end and pushes her brother into the murky water with a voice crack laced scream. Andrea and Genie flinch from the splash. She flinches from the weather dropping below sixty, eyes narrow as she walk uphill after being dismissed for thanksgiving break. 

That was the last time she saw Javi. He stopped coming to the house to pick her and Frankie up. Two weeks into seventh grade she noticed how strange it was to not be with him. Everyone in the halls at school were strangers, shit, they hadn't even known she spent the summer crushing on Laredo’s cutest freshman. Andrea tries to practice self control by not bugging Frankie about where the hell his so-called best friend was. That was until of course October when Frankie snatched a piece of gum from Andrea’s bookbag. 

“Where are you going?” She asks, her head lifting from her damn geometry work. Frankie pops the gum in his mouth and shrugs. 

“Homecoming game with Javi.” He says it like its nothing. Her eyes go all needy and in the most little sister voice she begs to come with. Frankie screws up his face, “No. Absolutely not.” 

Andrea slams her pencil down feeling betrayed by her brother who just two months ago let her tag along, every time! 

“Have you been hanging out, like just you guys?” She asks, sounding more whiny than she wanted. 

“Yeah, we hang out every day.” He bends down and tightens the laces to his chucks, his Laredo high school pull string hoodie flopping over his head in the same movement. She remembers her heart sinking at that moment, How dare they leave her out! She stands from the chair, it screeches loud.

“What!”

Frankie laughs and heads out the door with a slam. 

So Andrea learns that, yeah, it's a summer thing.

She rewires her brain to believe it stays that way just because she was the only one still in middle school. But she still finds it beyond strange that she doesn't bump into him, not even once–not until thanksgiving. The Diaz household only celebrated christian holidays and occasionally birthdays, so thanksgiving was just another day. Andrea rolls over in bed after a good late afternoon nap, her eyes falling to her year wide calendar. 49 days until she’s fourteen. She prays she grows some boobs, blurry eyes staring down at the mosquito bites under the t-shirt. 

A knock at her room door has her sat up straight, patting down the wrinkles in her shirt. “Yes!” She calls, eyes wide and cheeks flush.

“It’s Javi.” 

Andrea nearly shrieks at the sound of his voice from behind the door and from the position she had just been in. Up on her feet she hurries to the mirror, “Give me a moment I’m-um-I’m naked.” She blurts, her cheeks heating at her brain's stupid stupid stupid self. Patting her hair in place and slipping on socks, her freckles are long gone. No longer is there a trace of summer on her, what if she was just prettier under the sun. 

 He chuckles behind the door, “Uh-um okay.”

“Come in.” She shouts instead of opening the door for him. She wonders if maybe she looks more grown, her eyes dance to the mirror and polka dot fluffy shorts that stopped mid thigh, nope definitely not. He opens the door and the sight is absolutely delightful. Javier clad in a flannel and jeans, his brows furrowing at her. Lips quirking into a smile and at that moment Andrea realizes this is Javier’s first time in her room. Her cheeks set a blaze, his eyes scan the place, he smiles lazily at a picture of the summer crew taped onto her vanity mirror. “Sorry, I was just changing after a nap.” Half true. Her eyes bounce anywhere but his own, god Andrea could be so obvious sometimes. Have I no shame? 

He frowns, lifting a tin foil plate up, suddenly the smell of Peña fresh pork and rice, and tamales. Andrea’s stomach grumbles cartoonishly and Javier splits into a chuckle. Andrea is utterly gobsmacked at how badly she likes the boy.  Is this what love feels like? Like the sound of their makes her ache, was she too young to feel that hard? She giggles anyway, “Sorry I’m so hungry, let's go to the kitchen.” She tilts her head toward the door and he nods, leading himself out. Shamelessly staring at the nape of his neck as she trails him down the stairs. She has a dangerous thought of her lips pressing right there, that thought freaks her out and she feels her stomach flip. 

“Why are you alone?” Javier asks as he sets down the plate on the kitchen island. Andrea slept off the annoyance she developed from her mother and brothers yearly antics. Each thanksgiving, the two of them, just the two of them, go out to eat. They call it their mother son day of the year, when Andrea was young she was left with her nanny who took it upon herself to take little Andrea to a movie each thanksgiving. But Andrea was no longer little and the tradition continued, so the past 3 thanksgivings had been spent alone. It was routine to her, she wasn't sure if she was ready to understand her mothers ways just yet.

This Thanksgiving fell on Andrea’s fathers birthday, it's all she knew about him. His birthday and name. Lucas, November 24th. One complicated parent a time, she didn’t dwell this thanksgiving but she’d be a liar if she said she hadn't felt like she was on the verge of tears the entire day. 

Andrea peels open the wet aluminum, oh lordy I am thankful, thank you Chucho… for this food, Andrea looks up at Javier who had been staring at her with such contentment, and thank you for making the adonis that watches me now. Grabbing a fork Andrea answers, “My mom does something with Frankie every thanksgiving so I’m left here! God this looks amazing.” She drags her fork at the slab of pork, and it pulls so beautifully she could cry. Javier pulls the plate away from her. “Hey!”

“Is this every thanksgiving?” He asks, shielding the plate with his arm to get her to answer. 

She didn't care, “Yes, now move.” Andrea pinches his wrist and he slowly pulls his hand back to his side. Shoveling the pernil in her mouth with an excited mumble. Javi stays silent for her first few bites, just watching Andrea stuff herself. She was so hungry she couldn't bother looking at him. But then he sits next to her and gets a fork for himself and begins eating off the plate with her. 

Cheeks bulging with arroz con gandules, her eyes brighten and she smiles. “Happy Thanksgiving.” She says with a full mouth, to anyone it would be a gross act but Javier had thought it was the most endearing sight ever.

“Happy thanksgiving Andrea.” 

They eat together in silence.

Javier leaves with his heart beating fast in his chest, his stomach turning in the worst way. He looks at his father in the driver's seat, Chucho rolls down the window. “What took you so long!?”

Javier shook his head, not wanting to risk shouting what he discovered at the lawn of Andrea’s home. He shoots his head over his shoulder to take one more look at the house that contained just Andrea inside. 

Running a hand through his hair, Javier opens his fathers truck door and settles in. That feeling, that hole in his chest still in full effect.  “Andrea spends every thanksgiving alone.” He says it, his chest rises and falls. Andrea spends every thanksgiving alone.

Thanksgiving 1979

Andrea spends it alone again. Javier sat with his uncle, and dad in Houston, feeling awful homesick. Javier filled out the scholarship to the High School of Law and Justice in March and got free tuition for the upcoming year in late August, he had no time to really tell Andrea. Chucho traveled north for the holidays. Cooking for his helpless little brother who had Javier living off cafeteria lunch and ramen. The house smelled delightful and it truly felt like the holidays, even if he wasn't really home. During grace, with his hand resting on his fathers shoulder, in a warm room filled with home cooked food and love, he realizes she’s likely napping again. Probably sleeping to fizzle out hunger and loneliness.

Javi struggles to enjoy his food.

Homecoming 1979

Homecoming sure felt like a holiday in Laredo, at least within the halls of the school. The week had been full of underage drinking each night, pranks, and defacing the rival schools flag. Andrea couldn’t be bothered with the festivities, she just cared that senior Brian Flores who asked her to the dance. Now she could use this as an excuse to be pretty and maybe, maybe get her first kiss. She attended the game, and met Lorraine face to face for the very first time. Andrea attempted to bite back the jealousy buttering her tongue, and she surely took it out on Javier when he asked to talk after the game. Asking her all these questions that made her feel, for just a second, that he wants to be near her as much as she wants to be near him. 

Then he called her kid, and Andrea felt winded at the blow. 

“Next time I’ll think twice before I invite my best friend's kid sister to hang out. I apologize for trying to be polite and include you, god knows you used to whine about being left out.” 

Javi had distracted her from the handsome boy clad in shoulder pads who asked if she was okay, she couldn't even bask in the feeling because immediately Javier switched to protector mode. With a furrowed brow his eyes darted from Andrea to the grown man attempting to court her, and oh it settled something deep in his stomach he was unprepared to talk about. 

“What the fuck was that?”

“What do you mean?”

After a mini tangent and a few curses about him being far too old for her, Javi in a fit of protectiveness asked Andrea just to go with him. His brain completely abandons the thought of his unofficial girlfriend Lorraine. When he watches Andrea’s eyes twinkle for one second, he is reminded of the girl he had spent the last few weeks witj and the feelings he truly felt for the Lor. He wanted to be Lorraine’s boyfriend, he was tired of sneaking around–homecoming would have been his perfect opportunity to just go steady with the girl he had a crush on. 

 “Please stop acting like you care, I don't feel left out anymore. I have my own friends and life now. You guys only had me around because my mom made you, cus’ i couldn't make friends but obviously-Obviously I’m doing better now, so just please leave me alone” With that all thoughts of anyone but Andrea clears, only panic fills his chest when he watches someone who had never been upset with him, someone who had always been eager to spend time with, reminds him that things have changed and she becomes someone who wants to be left alone. 

Andrea heads home and sleeps well, she glances over at the dress she picked out and strangely the twisting jealousy and betrayal she felt from Javier fizzled at the thought of being appreciated by someone who actually likes her. Not so bad for a freshman, she thinks. She dozes off and dreams of Javier. She dreams she accepts his invite–even if it was offered in a white hot moment. In her brain she wears something entirely different and dances with him in their school gym. It’s decorated much more beautifully than she anticipated, but her brain paints it perfect just for them. Javier doesn’t make a move on her the entire night of the dance, it wasn’t his style. When the two decide it’s time to go, he kisses her gently and slowly against the brick walls of the gymnasium. Heart in her throat, she grips to the lapels of his blazer, pointing her foot in a beautiful disney first kiss. What a lovely dream it was, maybe that’s why she feels well rested the next day. 

She gets ready with an empty house, Frankie spent the night at Genie’s, again, a photo of Sharon Tate taped to her mirror. Eyes squinted as she messes up with powdered eyeliner for the… eighth time. The guitar riff in Marmalade’s I See the Rain bouncing off the walls of her bedroom. She pats down the wrinkles on the pale yellow dress. Her chest still not quite filling the thing but the built in lace shawl like jacket covers her modestly. Melissa had found too many of the short dresses too grown for a freshman. Andrea’s eyes flick up to her own, then down to her lips. She liked those, pinching her lips together her eyes narrow attempting to give her reflection a sexy pre kiss smolder. Her nose turns up in a cringe. Stomach flipping, will Brian kiss with tongue? He’s seventeen, god, he will for sure. Her eyes survey the room, she is alone… her mom got out of work at 9 pm. Frankie had no intention of coming home until tomorrow.

Screw it.

Andrea bunches her hand, her thumb lapping her pointer. She brings her hand to her lips and attempts to emulate what she thinks a kiss should look like. Her eyes close for just a moment when she feels a rhythm that feels right, hmm this doesn't seem too bad. Hopefully his breath doesn't smell like punch–

“Andrea-what the fu-”

She squeals at the top of her lungs when her eyes fall on a hurried suit clad Javier. Her wet hand is covered in Avon’s ripe cherry lipstick. “Ah! Oh my god.” It's her worst nightmare, her none kissed hand wiping the other while Javier stares with confusion and a hint of amusement. “What-how-why–how did you get in here?!” She yells, jumping to her feet. Javier tugs at his bow tie and stares at her hand for a moment, eliciting an ahem from her throat. His cheeks hint a blush. 

“Door was unlocked.” He stated flatly. Andrea blinks a few times, her lashes still wet with mascara, was he really here or had she kept dreaming.

He was just as nervous, as he got ready in the morning he wavered his options. He goes to homecoming and tells her while she’s there with her prick of a date, he tells her everything. He shook his head at that, he knew that could be a mess, it could create a scene. Javier crossed that off the list, he thought of just calling, he let that idea go too. As he crouched down to tighten his dress shoes his eyes caught a glimpse of the dusty space below his dresser, a white border poking out into view.

Javier leaned forward and pulled the thing out from under his dresser. There Andrea is, her hair long and braided, her classic teal bike to her left. To her right is Javi with his arm slung over her shoulders. With a sting in his eye and heart beating in his throat, Javier ran all the way to her, to Andrea. 

So without warning to Lorraine, Javier lays it all out. 

“You can't go to homecoming.” 

Andrea rolls her eyes, “Javi I’m tired of this weird protector complex you’ve developed, but I’m fifteen now I-”

“I won't let you go because that douchebag is being paid to take you, being paid double if he kisses you and triple if he fucks you.” He says it so rushed, just to get her to zip it. He saves Andrea in a sense, she was ready to spill some cliche lines that will have her cringing in t-minus six hours. The urgency was useful only in that facet, because then it hist Andrea all at once. Her eyes fall to the floor, heart dancing in her chest. How could I have been so blind. She knew of the senior bucket list, she knew, yet–

“Oh.” Her eyes screw shut for a moment, really hoping this was a dream. My god was she humiliated. She bought a dress, taped magazine clippings, painted her nails, kissed her hand and pushed Javier away for nothing. For someone to plan to use her for a checkmark on a list, she felt like a total idiot. Javi must think I look so stupid, Andrea thinks. Here in the middle of her room practicing kissing in an over priced dress. And despite her efforts to prove to Javi that she is in fact mature and strong and no longer in need of acceptance, her chin begins to quiver in the same way it did when she was just a kid. Her eyes blurry, she doesn’t even realize Javier is walking over to her with a soft pleading voice. Makeup ruined already, his hand grips her shoulder and instinctively she reaches out to grip his wrist. He’s frantically trying to get her stop crying but she just felt so embarrassed, crying is the only thing distracting from that pain in her chest. He’s whispering promises, 

Andrea please stop crying

I’ll stay here or-or we can go together 

We can stay in—watch something

We can egg his car—please stop crying. 

Shaking her head, her fingers dig into his wrist and he takes it as a sign to gather her up. Pulling Andrea into his chest, she knows her mascara tears must be staining his tux yet he couldn’t seem to care. The ache in his own chest settling the second he flattens a hand on the back of her head. Cheek resting on the top of her head. Andrea leans her entire body weight into the embrace, absolutely exhausted of being the joke, of being a pawn. Tired of being behind and naive. Javier tucks her head below his chin, resting on the top of her head. Ans oh boy is he in trouble because he hadn't thought of Lorraine, not even once. 

Despite the circles she’s talked herself into about her need to be self reliant—god did it feel good to just be hugged. 

With a squeeze to Andrea’s hip she pulls back, her eyes in all their raccoon glory, somehow she was still so beautiful. "Let’s go downstairs and watch something. Then we can flip through the yellow pages and sign the bastard up for the most incessant and embarrassing subscription with his home phone. How does Cat Scratch sex line sound?” Javier suggests. Just there, she feels it again, Am I too young to feel this much?

Through tears and smudged makeup, her lips quirk at its corners. 

“Okay.”

Christmas 1979

Christmas at the Diaz house wasn’t actually so bad. On the eve of christmas Melissa sets out all of the presents she’s bought her kids, then in the corner of her room lays a second pile of gifts for the people of Laredo that she’s made her family. Then she dresses her children, yes, even at their old age, in outfits she bought. The three take a drive to their church’s party and it goes the same way each year. The Smithfield’s lead a prayer, they play their mix of american christmas classics and spanish ones, then they regret serving alcohol at their christmas party. 

Two days before the party half of their christmas lights fall and in a fit of anger Melissa calls over Chucho to bring his latter and fix the damn thing. It must be genetic because when the Diaz women call, the Peña men come running. To Andrea’s surprise Javier shows up with his father. The group of friends watch the disaster that is Melissa Diaz with Holiday anxiety. 

Melissa stands at the foot of a ladder while Chucho puts up her lights. “A la derecha!” She yells from below, Frankie, Javier and Andrea sit on the lawn watching in amusement. It was chillier, a low fifty, it became Andreas' excuse to wear her lacrosse sweatshirt. Her brother and Javier joke about something that happened in school, something she didn’t witness. So she picks at the grass surrounding her and looks off at the two geezers arguing with each other in Spanish. Nat King Cole and Celia Cruz blasting from inside their house, windows open and in the December sunset their christmas tree twinkles beyond the window. 

Andrea decides maybe she likes Christmas with her family, with this family. 

She decides to take that statement back when her mother forces her to run the boutique from opening till closing on Christmas eve. Andrea stands behind the cash register wearing a headband with twirly attachments that jingled with each slight movement. If she hears happy holidays one more time she’ll kill Santa Claus herself. So it’s safe to say that when she locks up shop with a daily sale of five thousand dollars, she couldn’t be bothered with seeing half of Laredo in the church basement. 

Somehow Andrea finds herself in a stockings and a puffy green dress. She is half asleep by the time she spots the black leather couch at the farthest corner of the large basement. The basement of Los Tres Reyes church was the home of many parties. Many that could be considered non-fitting for a church but to most it was simply just a venue. Considering Lorraine’s father was the english mass pastor and his daughter was the most admired girl at the school, Mr. Smithfield held the Laredo Christmas party-invite only. Contrary to most parties at Los Tres Reyes, the Smithfield Christmas extravaganza (nice dresses and day drinking) was exclusive in Laredo terms. 

Lorraine was suited in the prettiest outfit in the room. Too fashionable for this town, plaid flared pants and a cashmere turtleneck. Andrea wants to groan at the silly dress her mom forced her into… and she was so tired. The party began to fill with the most prestigious faces of town, mostly store owners and Lorraine’s friends. Flashes fake smiles at each wave and struggling to stay awake the second she sits down. The familiar crunch of the couch with the sound of the tool of her skirt created a new strange ear splitting sound that has Andrea cringing. Legs crossed she wondered how many feet of tinsel they used for the ceiling. 

Fleshy nylon rubbing together with each leg-crossed readjustment. God she wished she had a magazine or something to not look so socially awkward in a setting like this. Deep inside Andrea was praying for Monica or Liandra to show up and save the day. She knew Javier was on his way, she knew she couldn’t bear the sight of the couple, especially how romantic it is to spend Christmas with your girlfriend’s family. Frankie was talking off Genie’s dad’s ear while nursing a beer. 

With the Ronetts playing on speaker and the bustling chatter, Andrea finds it awfully easy to drift off. Head falling back against the rest of the sofa. 

“My god she’s really sleeping.” Melissa whispers to Chucho about nearly four hours into the party. Eleven pm, nearly Christmas day. “Señor dame fuerza…” Her head falls into her hands while Chucho watches Andreas' fully laid out body in amusement. Her flats fully kicked off and her cheek squished to the leather. 

The Peñas arrive quite late to the party. Lorraine dragged Javier to the church bathroom to scold him for embarrassing her. He kissed her hoping it’ll soften her up but she slapped his arm instead. “Don’t be mad please.” He pleads as she opens the restroom door. Lorraine looks over her shoulder with a frown. 

With a snapping attitude and sarcasm, “Nice sweater.” 

Javier looks down at the thing, his face softening at the sight of his own sweater that his uncle knitted himself. It’s a thick gray cable knit sweater. For a moment Javier wonders why he lets these things slide from Lorraine, just a few weeks before he nearly broke it off after her intrusive suggestion on how to get over his mothers absence. 

Javi decides he’ll just drink tonight. 

With his hands shoved in his nice jeans, the pants Chucho bought two years ago for him to be forced into every holiday. His keys in his back pocket jangling as he walks down the stairs to a slowly dying party as the night closes. The lights around twinkling and the smell of clove and cinnamon filling his nose. He passes two girls in Lorraine’s friend group, Hilda and Diana. “Do you think she’s drunk?”

“I don’t know, but it’s tragic.” Hilda giggles, sipping her beer. Both their eyes planted on Andrea, in all her Christmas tree glory. Surrounded by her large green dress, socked feet curled and the most peaceful face he’s ever seen. His brows knit together, it was unlike her to fall asleep in a place like this. He shoots a glare over at the two girls and walks straight past them, straight to her. He grabs a cracker crown from one of the tables. Ignoring Lorraine’s call as he makes his way next to Andrea.

For a moment he feels watched, a bit insecure as he surveys the room as people pretend to not stare at the two. He frowns before wrapping his hand around her ankle and shaking her awake. She stirs slightly but just furthers herself into comfortability. He drops his head in an endearing smile. “Andrea.” He calls to her and she jolts at the sound of his voice.

Her smooth nylon clad feet brushing over his lap, causing a flip in his stomach. Something stranger happens in his christmas jeans.  “Oh!” She chirped, wiping her mouth clean of drool. “Javi!” 

“Andrea.” He laughs moving her small feet from his lap. Leaning forward and placing the gold crown on her disheveled hair. She giggles slightly, and blinks her eyes into full awareness. 

“Did I really fall asleep? What time is it?” She flattens her shimmery skirt. He just knows Melissa picked out the dress. He remembers the second summer they spent together, when her style changed completely. He knew she got her mother to back off on the kids catalogs, it seemed she still held higher ground when it came to christmas attire. Despite the forest pooling her body, to him she might have been the prettiest girl in the room, he should ask Santa Claus for a smack upside his head because the selfish thought came quickly and stuck like glue. Her shimmering eyes glance at the clock, fifteen to twelve. “Jesus!” She slaps her hand over her mouth at the decision to call the man out on his name, on his birthday and in a church. “I slept for so long.”

Javier chuckles a hearty laugh, “Yeah, decided to save you some embarrassment, you got quite comfortable.” His eyes fall to her feet. She burns mistletoe bow red and shoves them back into her flats. Still sitting up straight tenser than ever, and it aches his chest. He had her over just a week before, they joked around together in his house over dinner–he invited her to New Years at the bar. Two months before that the two sat awfully close on her couch watching Star Wars: A New Hope and signing up her one time homecoming date to awfully embarrassing subscriptions, using different personas and voices on the phone. Yet here, under everyone's surveillance she sat uptight and all frowning like she was afraid of being under the gaze of others. That drove him a bit crazy, she was his best friend too, hadn't she known?

Silence falls between them for a moment as he nurses his beer and she looks off, her mind running wild.

“You treat me differently when it’s not summer.” He blurts, bringing his drink to his lips. He knows why, he knows deep inside. Their summers together were organic, devoid of outside influences. She could just exist as Andrea, his Andrea. In summer she could just fall asleep on a couch and not have to worry about judging eyes. She could crush on Javier without guilt and restraint. He could call her pretty and not feel like the entire world is watching, prepared to scrutinize him. It was warm, it was easy to be close to one another, easy to ignore what others felt about them. Summers were just for them. It stirred something devastating in the cavity of his chest at the sight of her in a sweaty dress, with her hair done up and perfect posture. It wasn't her, it wasn't like her to be so afraid of him. 

Her lips quirk in a polite fake smile, as her eyes survey the room. She’s extremely aware of the eyes on the two of them. Javier’s jaw clenched at the sight of Andrea of all people being fake to him. She clears her throat like he asked her a scandalous question. Then she turns to him all at once and he swears under her makeup he sees a hint of the freckles that deepen under the Texas sun, and her features fall all sincere, like he’s the only person in the room. 

And she whispers, “Well maybe I don’t know how to be your friend in the winter.” Her eyes drop and her forehead forms that tiny crease of worry between painted brows. Javier’s stomach pits and maybe the holidays made him feel sentimental, maybe he’s afraid that being in the same school will somehow create a wedge in something he cherishes so deeply, maybe he feels like strangely time is running out. Perhaps he regrets meeting Lorraine at this time. It’s something about being surrounded by love, warmth and home cooked meals. Something about the sounds of chimes, organs and jingle bells in the music filling the air. Something about spending Christmas eve next to Andrea Diaz, something about not being able to kiss her under the mistletoe. Maybe because it actually snowed in Texas this Christmas, small flurries that didn’t stick–but snow nonetheless. He’s never had the urge to before but her, in front of him, at this time, with those eyes–he wonders what he’s doing wrong. 

With his heart in his throat he can only muster out one thing. 

“Merry Christmas.”

Christmas 1980-85

Houston isn't home. The holidays become a brain splitting headache he ignores for years to come. He's no longer seventeen. He had one holiday with her, and it wasn’t really with her, yet he can't imagine having one without her.

What a scary feeling.

#javier peña #javier peña x ofc #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena x you #javier peña smut #ao3 #fanfic #javier peña narcos #javier pena x reader

[foxssleeplessness]

So, I just started writing a Hangster fic based on this TikTok and wanted some feedback so here's the really small part I wrote today. I promise this is not the entire fic, this is just the drunken bad idea that started it all. Keep in mind this is during the beginning of their careers, before they hate each other's guts. See more below the cut

It happened between two country songs, with their elbows on the sticky bar table and one too many beers in hand. Bradley’s hair was messed up and Jake’s smile was drunkenly relaxed.

“We should get married.”

Jake had meant it as a joke, but in his intoxicated state, he found it actually was a pretty damn good way to solve their mutual problem. In front of him, Bradley’s eyes had widened. His mouth opened once, twice, three times before any coherent sentence could come out of it.

“Why?” Okay, maybe not an entire sentence. 

Jake waved his half-empty beer around with a shrug as if it was a valid answer. His drinking companion’s confused face told him it wasn’t.

“Well,” he started, “first of all, I want to beat Javy to it.” Bradley snorted before downing the last of his drink. “Last of all, we’d get out of the barracks.”

The thunk of a glass bottle being heavily put down on the table didn’t startle Jake, but the scream did.

“What?!” Bradley exclaimed. He looked as if Jake had just told him he was a Genie and that he could solve all his problems on the spot. 

Jake nodded seriously as he also finished up his beer. He’d heard Bradley complain loudly and so often about the barracks and how it was unfair higher ranking officers got better housing (even if it was just that, military housing) than them that he’d done his research (asked Javy) and learned about married life benefits. Of course, he’d never believed it was accessible to him - seeing as his dating life was more dead than anyone ever buried or cremated in humanity’s history - but he’d always hoped deep down to get out of those shitty barracks. 

“You’re not joking, please tell me you’re not joking.” 

Jake put his hand on his chest, not where his heart was. “I swear it on my nan’s grave.”

Bradley rolled his eyes. “Your grandma’s well and alive.”

Jake paused. His grandmother was, in fact, living her best life in a nursing home back in Texas. 

“On my old man’s grave than.” Even if the bastard wasn’t worth much in this conversation.

Bradley hummed approvingly as he pulled out his phone and started typing something on it. He scrolled for a few seconds while the opening chords of Foghat’s Slow Ride rung out before nodding and showing Jake the screen. It depicted the location of so called “County Clerk Recorder” with the section “Express Marriage Services 24/7” opened. The rings were even offered on the spot for 20 bucks. Jake looked up from the phone to Bradley.

“We are so getting out of those shitty barracks,” Bradley said seriously and, in their drunk state, it was such a good fucking idea, why wouldn’t they get married. It was for a perfectly good and reasonable reason, after all.

#thanks a lot #hangster #sereshaw #hangman x rooster #rooster x hangman #tgm fanfiction #tgm #tgm fic #sereshaw fic #hangster fic #hangster fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw #jake hangman seresin #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer

[existslikepristin]

Yooo. I know I've had more than 100 votes before, but hitting 100 exactly is pretty sick

Anyway, this is a short installment for hopefully obvious reasons. The poll will run short too, since I'm going to have plenty of time to write tomorrow

Tags: NSFW, S.M.U.T., genie, anal

(Story Index)

About those exotic places

“Uh…” You pat Joy's tits as one might when they can't think of a response. "Yes. I was just thinking about exotic places to keep fucking. The kitchen table is a bit boring and I don't know why I even thought to—”

Joy pouts. “Oh don’t say that, master! Fucking my ass on the kitchen table for a second time in a row is a very good idea. You’re super creative and made a very good choice!”

You slow your thrusts down and glare. “That sounded a little patronizing.”

“Oh, never, master!” Joy puckers her lips. You know it’s more condescending shit, but you do stare at her lips a little too long. Damn they look good. You wonder if you should kiss her. You’ve already fucked her ass and groped her boobs, so it seems relatively normal. You’d have expected to kiss her before all that other stuff in any normal situation.

Those lips… her tits… the ass that’s squeezing you so perfectly… The rest of her body… Yeah, this is worth the occasional-to-frequent verbal jab.

“Still thinking about a new place?” Joy asks with a raised eyebrow, clearly having realized that you’re ogling.

Options:

Fuck, right. Exotic… uh, Germany? Yeah, the autobahn would be a crazy place to fuck!

No, that’s not crazy enough. Maybe… Chernobyl! A destroyed nuclear reactor!

Okay, that’s too crazy, actually. Calm down and fuck in a bathroom… in a club?

That’s too easy though. And cliche. How about your old school…? At night, of course.

Um, weird choice. That would be immature… unlike a movie theater.

That’s not any better! No, a mature person would… go to the grocery store.

That might get you arrested… Wait, with this magic stuff, you could fuck in a police station.

None of these ideas are exotic! Go to Africa… no, too hot. Just go to the zoo.

Shit, these ideas all suck. Just use a bed… actually, wait, use the top of a bunk bed!

[grailfinders]

Grailfinders Viewers' Choice: Mash 2, the Sequel to Mash

 today on Grailfinders, we’re finally heading back to where it all began, and rebuilding Mash Kyrielight one last time. in the three years since we started this thing, we learned a lot about building characters in D&D- and the biggest lesson was that shields suuuuuck. “but Mash is a shielder!” you say, “she needs a shield!” to that, I scoff. Mash needs no shield. she needs to shield. to shield without a shield, this Mash will train her body like never before, and become a Kensei Monk. we also need some extra magic for the ultimate in shields, and for that we need to make a pact and become a Genie Warlock. her dad’s girlfriend has like, three, I’m sure she can give us one.

check out her build breakdown below the cut, or her character sheet over here!

Ancestry & Background

good news, sports fans! since the days of the original build wotc has in fact added Eternal Ray of Sunshine as a race! if you’re very generous with how you interpret Custom Lineage, at least. because of that, this Mash gets +2 Dexterity to start, as well as Survival proficiency for camping and the Fighting Initiate feat for Interception. now you can react to an incoming attack on an ally and reduce the damage they take, as long as you’re wielding a weapon. that’s right- shielding. without shields.

Mash is still a Cloistered Scholar though. you don’t have to worry, your History and Arcana proficiencies aren’t going anywhere.

Ability Scores

Mash’s highest ability this time around will be Wisdom. I’m sure most of her foresight comes from scanners or magical whatnots, but when half your dialogue in a singularity is “hey, there’s enemies coming” your passive perception is pretty damn high. second, Charisma. I dare you to look me in the eye and say you wouldn’t give Mash a kidney if she asked. third, Dexterity. that’s how you don’t get hit, and Mash’s giant freakin’ shield tells me she doesn’t get hit often. third is Constitution. I’d love for this to be higher, but everything else on the list is need for multiclassing first and foremost. it’s not ideal, but we’ll make it work. that’s also true for Intelligence, though in that case at least we’d only want it for skill checks. finally, we’re dumping Strength. yes Mash can lift cars, but in terms of servants she’s not offensively powerful. also, we don’t really need this for anything in-build, and we can cover everything strength can do through other means pretty easily.

Class Levels

1. Monk 1: since we got that fighting feat, we need to start off as a monk to qualify. on the plus side, that gets us Unarmored Defense right away, adding our wisdom to our AC as long as we’re not wearing armor or holding a shield. so no problems there. mechanically, our “shield” for this build will be any simple melee weapon (or shortsword) as those all qualify as “monk weapons”, so our Martial Arts work on them. this means they deal a minimum of 1d4 damage, which grows as we level, and you can use your dexterity instead of strength to wield them. also, attacking with your action with either a monk weapon or your fists lets you make another fisting as a bonus action. again, as long as you’re unarmored.

(I know Mash is one of the few servants with actual armor, but tbf it’s missing some pretty key components. also, you can be summer Mash!)

also monks get proficiency in Strength and Dexterity saves, as well as Athletics and Religion checks. now you have all the skills needed to ID servants, and your piddly strength score won’t be too much of a hinderance.

2. Monk 2: second level monks learn to harness Ki, and you get a pool of it equal to your monk level every short rest. you can spend one ki point per turn to dash, dodge, disengage, or attack twice as a bonus action, with dashing and disengaging also doubling your jump distance, again covering for your strength. Mash too is a fighting game character, and is not unaccustomed to sick combos.

she also gets Unarmored Movement, so as long as you don’t put on plate mail you’ll be faster than the average player.

3. Monk 3: at third level you set down the Way of the Kensei and learn the Path of the Kensei. the kensei are good at weapons, not naming things. now you can pick two kensei weapons, a ranged and a melee one. these will become the bedrock of later features, so hopefully you’ve picked out a “shield” by now. while holding a kensei weapon, you can attack with your bare hand to perform an Agile Parry, adding two to your AC for a round. almost like. your weapon is… shielding you, or something.

(you can also use Kensei’s Shot to add more damage to ranged kensei attacks but who cares about that)

finally, you can Deflect Missiles. if you’re being attacked by ranged enemies, you can use a reaction to block their damage- if this prevents the damage entirely, you can then spend a ki point to throw the arrow back. let’s see lancelot bring down a plane on you now.

4. Warlock 1: now that we have the basic functionality of a shield, let’s get ourselves an NP. since you’re kind of family with the Queen of Sheba, you can probably pull some strings and get a Genie to come help you power the Ortinax. right now, that gives you a Genie’s Vessel, a funky lil trinket you can swooce right into as an action. you can stick around inside it for a couple hours, but we’re using it as your invincibility- when you think a big attack’s coming, hold your reaction to bait it out, then let your vessel eat the damage. when it’s destroyed, you pop out like nothing happened. you can enter once a day, and you can make a new one by spending an hour to do so.

while it’s around though, you can use it once a turn to add the Genie’s Wrath to your attacks, adding your proficiency bonus in bludgeoning damage to one of your attacks.

you also learn Pact Magic, spells that use your Charisma to cast and recharge on short rests. Blade Ward is another kind of shield that gives you resistance to physical attacks for a round, and Minor Illusion is an easy way to play a hologram from Chaldea. for your leveled spells, Protection from Good and Evil will protect guda from being possessed, something that’s been happening with disturbing regularity. you can also shield someone with a Sanctuary, forcing a wisdom save on anything that tries to attack them as long as they don’t attack first. it’s a weird shield, but it’s still a shield. I mean Mash’s defense boosts still work if you put her in the backline, so ranged shielding is canon.

5. Warlock 2: second level warlocks get Eldritch Invocations, ways to customize your pseudoservant hell year and come away with a nice goodybag of stuff. you get two this level, but we’ve done this song and dance before- pick whatever you want for #2, it’s getting swapped out next level. still, do make sure you pick up Eldritch Mind now for advantage on concentration saves. tanks need to take hits, and your spells are about damage mitigation so it would be really bad if they went down from the first punch.

you can also Detect Evil and Good now, so you can find any gods or demon god pillars within 30 feet of you. Guda fights a lot of gods, and they’re typically the kind of enemy you don’t want to be ambushed by.

6. Warlock 3: third level warlocks gain a pack boon, and if we want Ortinax running at full capacity we need the Pact of the Blade. now you can summon just about any weapon you want out of the ether as an action, or you can store a specific weapon away for when you need it. speaking of, you can make your shield an Improved Pact Weapon now, an invocation that adds +1 to all your shield’s attack and damage rolls, plus you can use your shield to cast your spells. if you’re going to carry around a giant freakin’ shield, it had better be good for something, y’know?

speaking of shielding, you can now cast second level spells like Ray of Enfeeblement, halving damage from a specific enemy’s strength-based attacks, and making your interceptions and deflections all the more useful. it’s also a cool laser from your shield, so I guess this is the prototype black barrel?

7. Warlock 4: use your first Ability Score Improvement to round up your Dexterity and Wisdom for a much stronger AC and better attacks to boot. you can also Create Bonfire as a cantrip for camping, and you have Warp Sense, letting you detect nearby distortions in reality. this is only supposed to work on portals, but if your campaign revolved around finding seven macguffins from outside of time that were warping the fabric of history to the breaking point I’d say it should work on those too.

8. Warlock 5: fifth level warlocks get third level spells, and now we can shield against even the strongest of spells with Counterspell. if you use a spell slot equal to or greater than the spell you’re blocking, it automatically shuts down whatever nonsense they were planning. otherwise, you’ll need to make a check.

you also learn how to use your bunker bolt, or Eldritch Smite, as the game’s so insistent on calling it. spend a spell slot while hitting something with your shield, and you can send them flying with 4d8 extra force damage, that bonus only growing bigger as you level up.

9. Warlock 6: at sixth level Mash can finally summon supplies from Chaldea, letting her Create Food and Drink. it’s a spell, it creates food and drink, what do you want from me.

less self-explanatorily, your Elemental Gift gives you resistance to all bludgeoning damage to improve your tankiness, and you can spend a bonus action to fly for up to ten minutes. obviously Mash can’t fly, but she can jump good, so it’s practically the same thing.

10. Warlock 7: seventh level warlocks get fourth level spells, and you can finally start killing gods with Banishment sending them back to their home planes. if it’s good enough for Arjuna Alter, it’s good enough for Mash.

you also get a weird shield thanks to the invocation Sign of Ill Omen letting you cast Bestow Curse once a day with a warlock spell slot. that sounds out of character, but the spell does give you the option to enforce disadvantage on attacks against a certain target, so it’s just barely a shield in my book. it also uses a different save than ray of enfeeblement, so it’s a type coverage thing.

11. Warlock 8: now that we’re halfway through the build I can finally nitpick the series a bit. I love FGO, but why does everyone speak the same language? it’s not like Mash could cast Tongues and understand everyone… oh, I guess it is. never mind.

also use this ASI to bump up your Charisma for stronger spells.

12. Warlock 9: ninth level warlock equals fourth level spells. Wall of Stone is a wall… of stone. this is the closest to the classic Lord/Mold Camelot we’re getting, but it’s still a great way to block damage, enemies, or even cross gaps.

if you’d rather leave the gap after you’re done, you can use the invocation Otherworldly Leap to cast Jump on yourself whenever you want- by combining jump and monk’s step of the wind, your 8-strength ass can jump better than a 20-strength barbarian could. sometimes you want to fly, but this way’s practically free.

13. Warlock 10: I’m sorry for sticking extra attack this late into the build, but I thought it was vital that we get Mash to the tenth level of warlock as fast as we could- this is the level you learn Sanctuary Vessel as a genielock, allowing you to pull up to five willing creatures into the vessel with you when you enter it. this means that now you can save the entire party from a noble phantasm by yoinking them all out of existence in a move that would make Teferi proud.

also if they stay in the vessel for ten minutes they get a short rest, which, given how much you rely on those, is a godsend.

I also want Mash to use her sword at least once, so your last cantrip of the build is Sword Burst. why have a sword if you won’t use it.

14. Monk 4: now that we’re finally back in Monk, you can bump up your Constitution with this ASI. you also learn to Slow Fall, reducing fall damage as a reaction, but you can fly, so… yeah, sorry we took such a big detour.

15. Monk 5: with your Extra Attack in hand, you can attack twice in a turn, allowing you to make an unarmed attack to set up your shield, then switch to your shield for big dps. you can also turn any attack into a Stunning Strike, forcing a constitution save on your target or they’re stunned for a round. this both prevents them from making actions, and makes them easier for everyone else to hit. this isn’t in Mash’s usual kit, but if you got hit by a piece of cast iron the size of Rhode Island you’d be stunned too.

16. Monk 6: sixth level monks have Ki-Empowered Strikes, making your fists magical and avoiding a lot of resistances. you also become One with the Blade, making your shield magical as well (it already was), and you can make a Deft Strike once a turn, adding your martial arts die to the damage it does.

17. Monk 7: with your final level of Monk, you learn Evasion, which makes your failed dexterity saves block as much as most people’s successes (half of the damage) and your successes block twice that much (all of it). you carry a giant goddamn shield with you, everywhere you go. it blocks things.

you also get Stillness of Mind, rendering you pretty much immune to charming and frightening effects. you need to keep your wits about you to snap Guda out of them, after all.

18. Warlock 11: warlocks don’t get spell slots past six; instead, you get Mystic Arcanum, which work like regular spell slots from other casting classes, only working once per day. for your sixth level spell, Investiture of Stone grants you resistance to physical damage, and you can ignore difficult terrain made of rock, and also walls made of rock. servants are stupid strong, so walking straight through stone is completely on the table. if you really want to mess stuff up, you can spend an action to stamp on the ground (jump, jump, jump, jump) and move it all around, forcing a dex save on everything around you or knocking them prone. have you seen the FGO movies? it’s easier to list the stuff that servant fights don’t break.

19. Warlock 12: use your last ASI to improve your Dexterity for better attacks and a better AC. you’re a shielder, so those are naturally related. you also get one last invocation, and by now you’ve been using a cutting edge superweapon like a hammer long enough for it to start leaking bad shit everywhere- at least, that’s my explanation as to why it’s a Lifedrinker now. whenever you hit something with Ortinax, it deals extra necrotic damage to boost.

20. Warlock 13: our final level of the build will let us get rayshifting in the first place thanks to Plane Shift, letting us travel to other planes with allies. alternatively, you can weaponize this and try to send someone else to another plane. now even gods from the material world can get black barrel’d!

Pros and Cons

Pros

compared to the OG Mash build, this one has so much more offensive power than before, primarily thanks to the Ortinax coming with more damage bonuses and types to give us some flexibility in combat and a chance for burst damage when the opportunity presents itself.

you also play around short rests a lot, which means you’re never far from full power no matter how late in the day it gets.

the sanctuary vessel is hands down the most powerful defense we’ve ever given a build. when used properly, it can shut down practically any attack you throw its way. not only will it take all the damage from whatever is about to hit you, but it’s an extradimensional space, so arguably effects that only miss through planar shenanigans can be avoided this way. I think this could shut down almost everything I’ve called a noble phantasm in a build up to this point. almost.

Cons

that’s a big almost though- the cost of this extra power is less defense than the original, which admittedly does fit the character. while Ortinax is just as good, if not better, at fighting big singular attacks. however, it fails in two categories- your defense isn’t nearly as good at dealing with multiple smaller attacks, and your HP is so much lower than the original’s.

this is partially caused by the new classes not being full martials with d10s for HP, but it’s also because of how Multi-Ability Dependent this build is. even if we weren’t trying to be a tank, the multiclassing minimums for the build alone are pulling us in three different directions at once. this means that your spell saves are also pretty weak, so your magical blocking isn’t up to par.

when I said you were never far from full power earlier, that was true. buuuut it’s also true about being close to empty too. warlocks and monks are both famously bad at resource management, and if you go into two or more fights between short rests you’re liable to run out of resources no matter how carefully you play.

#fgo #fate grand order #D&D 5e #DND #Mash Kyrielight #Monk #Warlock

[ahiddenpath]

Digimon Adventure 02: The Beginning

I just got home from seeing the Japanese audio/English sub. This is not a review, and I doubt I'll feel the same way about it in a few days, because I'm all up in my emotions and I haven't had a think on it. So here is nothing more or less than my visceral, 100% subjective reaction.

Extreme spoilers beneath the cut, spoilin spoilin all day long. Also cussing and blaspheming, apparently I like to keep it classy.

My head is a boiling vat of pudding.

As the film ended, someone screamed, "Toei why you gotta do us like that?!" Someone else yelled, "Jesus Christ I did not need that in my life." As we filed out, another gem: "They had a digital god in this one, and they still didn't unfuck Kizuna." (That last one, I think, while funny, was not relevant. This wasn't about the older kids, they had their turn and several more, lmao).

Some notes:

-Genuinely I was not prepared for a horror. Or child abuse. I love horror games! I watch them nearly daily! Did you know I have only once been more upset/disturbed by a horror video game than I was by this movie?

Did people take their kids to this? Like, that seems totally reasonable to me, taking your kid to digimon!!! Jesus cHRISt!!!!

-I thought my bar of, "I want to see the 02 kids grown up and interacting," was so, so low. I thought my bar could not be lower. But this was Lui's story, not theirs. And this is Toei's story, not mine, so I have to accept that... They wrote what they wanted to. But yeah, the bar I thought was low was not cleared.

-SOMEONE HELP ME, Himekawa is older than Lui. Himekawa's group, they were the first Chosen. Right??? Does the time line not shake out here??? Himekawa was probably about 10/11 when she was Chosen, and she's a full ass adult in Tri??? So, like, I guess the question is, how much older is her group than Lui at age 4? Are they at least 6 years older???? But- God what age would that make- God damn let me get the chart. Shit, I'm lost. Help??????

Shit I liked:

-Lui's second birthday scene

Not the original scene where Lui meets Ukkomon. This is the second birthday, his 8th birthday, where they sit in a dark room full of presents and treats. Ukkomon mentions Lui's parents and friends. They enter the room and proceed to not say a single ducking word while Ukkomon and Lui talk and talk and talk, and it is the creepiest and most atmospheric shit I have seen. Holy shit!!!!

Obviously, the audience already knows shit is fucked up with Ukkomon, but at this point, ooooooooooooooooo baby that tension is HIGH.

-Power in the hands of children

Ukkomon is, like, seconds old when he meets Lui. Lui is 4 and extremely disenfranchised, even for a 4-year-old. Lui wishes for what he doesn't have. Ukkomon devotes his whole self to those wishes.

What happens when a 4 year old meets a baby genie? When that much power is in the hands of the innocent?

You don't want to know, trust me. Lowkey wish I didn't know!!! Christ on a bike!

As much as we love digimon and the Chosen and all of that, it's always been messed up how much power they have, and how much responsibility. It's so much pressure, it's so high stakes! It was really cool to see Toei explore how sideways all of this could go, literally at any moment.

-A few character moments

Honestly that part where a girl is chatting up Ken and Wormmon is visibly pissed is, like, my favorite thing in this movie. Oh! Also I loved seeing the international Chosen, that was so great. The gut scream of WALLACE/WILLIS in the theater when he appeared!!!!!!

Bonus:

My husband said he liked how there was a command center in Imperialdramon's head. I think that was actually some kind of... plane??? Made by Ukkomon??? I have no idea. You know, the place where Ken and Daisuke are accused of flirting.

Stuff I didn't like

-It was half flash back

I'm being a little harsh here, because stuff other than flashbacks happened in the first 46 minutes, but... I checked my phone after the final flashback (not counting Lui jumping into Ukkomon in the end). I was 46 minutes into a roughly 90 minute film. I'm not against flashbacks in principle, and I tend to like new characters, but... This just wasn't what I hoped for in a movie about the 02 kids. I accept that this is 100% subjective.

-It was too damned fucked up for my tastes

Jeeeeeeeeeeeeeesus H Christ!!!!!

Okay, so first of all, I generally am of the opinion that a lot of recent media has substituted trauma for substance. It's easy to make an audience pity/relate to/feel protective of a character by showing them suffer.

Lui wetting himself was so disturbing for me- in children, that's often a sign of ongoing abuse. I could easily be reading into it, but that combined with the range of age of his bruises (and he had more fresh contusions, too, they start red and turn purple and brown and eventually a yellow green) hinted that this wasn't some one off occasion caused by a sudden spike of stress. That was Lui's life. And he really might have frozen to death that night, if not for Ukkomon.

In a way, if I'm right and not just reading into things, this scene was well done. But also, like... I just don't enjoy the substitution of trauma for gradually making us care about a character and understand what they've been through. It seems like some kind of heavy handed short cut, and it usually has the opposite effect on me- thrusting me out of the narrative and making me distrustful of it.

Or maybe I'm just distancing myself, because I genuinely get so upset.

And don't even get me started on the scene where Ukkomon dissolves. I was not ready for that shit. It was just too much for me, I'm sensitive, lmao!

-I'm not sure what I think of the Chosen reacting to Lui's story

I kind of felt like the Chosen were oddly hard on Lui? They weren't actually, in reality they encouraged him to find a resolution with Ukkomon and reminded him that relationships go two ways.

But, like. Could someone have, like... Idk I was really waiting for someone to cry or hug Lui or reassure him or something? Instead it was like, "Poor Ukkomon. He tried so hard and you relied on him too much!"

And my visceral reaction to that was, "UKKOMON KILLED AT LEAST ONE OF LUI'S PARENTS AND MADE THEM MEAT PUPPETS FOR YEARS, JESUS!!!! AND YOU WANT LUI TO GO SEE UKKOMON AGAIN?!?!?!?!?" Like, that whole thing was literally a nightmare??? But Ukkomon was an actual whole ass baby god, and then again, as my husband put it, "Ukkomon did what CPS wouldn't." Lui needed help, stat.

I'm gonna need some time to sort how I feel about this. I can say that, as I watched, I felt like the emotional tone was really off for the last half of the film. All I could think about was the horror, and any time someone criticized Lui, or even told him to go see Ukkomon, I was just like- MEAT. PUPPET!!!! MEAT!!! PUPPET!!!! (Did those kids that Ukkomon made Lui's friends also die?!?!?!). Literally, snow was falling and the Chosen were playing, and my head was like, MEAT. PUPPET!!!!

There's no walking back that emotion, at least not in a 40 some minute window. Not for me, personally. I'm probably going to have nightmares. If I knew going in that this was a horror, I'd be fine with that. But gdi I though I'd see my blorbos having good times mixed with a plot.

Instead, nightmares.

-Lui's final scene with his mother

Lui tells himself, "This time, when I go back in time... I won't rely on Ukkomon for everything" (paraphrasing). He sees his mother inside his memory of his 4th birthday. He says to her, roughly, "Lui loves you, please remember that."

And magically, the mom is kind to him that night.

Now, to be fair, even disastrous relationships can have good times. Maybe it would have been just that night that was better. But there was this feeling of, "Oh, if I just talked to my mother when I was 4 years old and horrifically abused, it would have been different."

That just isn't how that works. If I had to guess, the film is just supporting communication. But god, don't ever point back to the child victim like that. Too bad that 4 year old doesn't know how to communicate with his abusive caregiver! Things might have been different!!!!!

I'm sensitive to this kind of thing, so it's totally possible I'm fixating too much on this or blowing up the importance of this moment. But yeah, not a good emotional reaction to that.

In summary: this was not the film I wanted. In fact, it's a film that will stick on me like a burr, but like. In a bad way? But also it did have some killer ideas. Ukkomon has to be one of the most interesting things to hit Adventure in years. So much power in the hands of an innocent, so disastrous so very fast.

My brain is still pudding. Time for some nightmares. Good night, I hope the film didn't distress you if you saw it! And my sympathies if you took your children, the biggest of oofs (how could you have known??? You couldn't have).

#spoilers #digimon spoiler #digimon spoilers #digimon #digimon adventure 02 #digimon adventure 02 the beginning #02tb spoilers #02tb #hidden reacts #reaction #faves

[elysia-nsimp]

TWST Headcanons!

Hello everyone! I'm starting a new series where I infodump about my headcanons for twst characters. Feel free to request certain characters if I haven't done them already. To start off, here's Jamil Viper! Please ignore the awful quality I swear I tried to fix it

So to start off, what changed physically?

His right eye isn't grey--it's muted green with red in the center. This is the eye his signature spell primarily comes from, which is where the red came from.

he has an eyebrow cut because i have one and its COOL

He has a widow's peak! (That's the point in his hairline, if that term is unfamiliar to you)

He has long, pointed ears. I will elaborate later.

He also has several gold earrings! He has 3 hoops on his other ear.

His tongue is split at the edge. It's not super visible in this card, though.

He also has a tongue piercing, it's a teardrop-shaped Ruby. He takes very good care of it.

Lastly, he has LONG fangs. They poke out of his mouth a little bit.

Elysia, what are these changes for?

Great question! Almost all of these have an explainable reason (except the eyebrow cut and the split tongue thing I just decided he would do that just because), and I'm here to explain them!

So to start off, what is Jamil? In canon, he's a human, pretty simple, but I decided humans are BORING and Jamil deserved to be non-human like the other super cool epic characters like the twins and Malleus (personal opinion alert). In this AU, Jamil is still partially human--mostly human, even--with both his parents being human (mostly), but further up his family tree, there are traces of both gorgon and genie ancestry. How'd he get those in his family tree? Well, long long time ago, an ancestor of Kalim found a lamp that Jafar used to inhabit. As their final wish, they freed the genie. As thanks, the genie decided to stick around and continue to offer help here and there. That genie found a partner out of their lamp, and thus, began the Viper family. Somewhere along the line, one of Jamil's relatives fell in love with a gorgon. Does this mean Jamil can grant wishes? Absolutely not. However, it IS why his family has been serving the Asims for generations.

What new abilities does this grant Jamil?

Honestly, not many changes about him. He isn't even aware he's not fully human, though he has questioned why he looks different than others. Here are a couple things that have been added or changed, though.

He's more inclined to want to help you if you preface whatever you want with "I wish" (he does not even notice this, do not mention it)

He's venomous! If he bites you, it'll paralyze you for about a half an hour, maybe an hour at the worst. He doesn't use this ability much... only if he feels like he or Kalim is in danger or he just REALLY wants someone to shut up.

He reall.y likes lamps.... he has no clue why he just likes lamps

His emotions are slightly easier read, because his ears tilt up or down depending on how he feels and he has zero control over that.

He has a slight lisp that he has spent YEARS training himself out of because of the fangs. It's barely noticeable if you're not listening for it.

Some other headcanons!

These are unrelated to the species change, but still worth mentioning!

Jamil's bisexual, but he was in HEAVY DENIAL for a DAMN long time. He just prefers he/him.

oh boy here's some diagnoses for you: Major clinical depression, anxiety/paranoia (lesser impact), C-PTSD, AUTISM!!!!!!! (he just like me frfr) (also he lives in his mask so it took him a while to figure that out), POTS, assorted other CHRONIC PAIN that hasn't been diagnosed yet

He collects gold jewelry because Kalim used to always want to buy him gold things. Its kind of just become habit to collect anything that looks gold because it was one of the nicer things in his childhood.

He takes EXTREMELY good care of all his jewelry! Especially the tongue gem, since it's the most likely to get infected.

Jamil has joint issues. It's not so substantial that he can't function, but sometimes his arm will pop out of place or ache like all HELL if he overworks himself too much. This is what he uses the arm brace for and why you see him rubbing his arm often. (this is partially based in canon, partially projection because I too am in chronic pain)

mention whipped cream around him and he will go insane (/neg/hj) (based on other RPs he's been in where it's a running gag revolving around him)

He and Najma both don't have great relationships with their parents. Especially after Book 4 and some mandated therapy, Jamil grew bitter of how much his parents pulled him back and made him fear just... talking to Kalim (ofc a lot more went into his blaming of Kalim, but his parents' influence was extremely damaging).

Jamil is extremely overprotective of Najma, even if he acts like she's a major nuisance in his life.

One time he passed out in front of Najma (which made her panic), only for him to sit the fuck back up, walk to the kitchen, and down an entire thing of salt in front of poor Najma's very eyes. She was HORRIFIED, but started laughing once he confirmed he was okay. (This is related to the POTS)

Jamil knows how to pick up fingerprints and has done so on several occasions (mostly to catch Najma after she stole his food)

This is all I can think of off the top of my head. This post may be edited in the future, but for now, thanks for reading my first in-depth headcanon post!!!

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland headcanons #twst headcanons #twisted wonderland jamil #twst jamil #twst jamil viper #jamil viper #disney twisted wonderland #i am so very normal about jamil

[thebigoblin]

Everything

I'm supposed to be studying for my exams, instead I wrote this. I had to do 2 chapters! (short ones, would barely take me an hour, but still!) This might be the first installment of a series. Idk, my muse is unpredictable.

Anyways... here ya go, my fellow sterek lovers <3

PS: won't be putting this on AO3 yet, I'm not opening that again till my last exam is over. Now on AO3 after some minor edits! And wowza i did not realize this thing was more 2k words lmao. I was thinking this a lil ficlet oof.

One should never fuck with a genie, otherwise they fuck with you.

How does Stiles know this? Because he's an idiot. An idiot who rubbed the lamp even after Lydia told him not to, and asked for a wish he really wishes he hadn't. And the worst part of it all?

He's all alone now.

*

He wakes up floating in the air. He screams, because he can see the forest floor below him, and he's definitely gonna fall so he needs to brace himself—

"Where the hell are my legs?!"

"Gone," the genie giggles. She's blue in hue, white jewels around her white eyes, and she has her teal long hair in knots the same way Stiles' stomach is now. Stiles gulps. She laughs. "You wished for this, Stiles."

And with that, she's gone.

Stiles doesn't fall, but he wishes he had. Especially when he sees his dad trudging through the forest with K9 dogs, unaware of his existence even though he shouts, cries, and yearns.

His dad looks up, but never at him. He tries to touch his dad, make him aware of his existence, but all his dad does is look terrified of something Stiles doesn't know of and unaware of Stiles' mere existence.

Finally, his dad leaves, muttering, "Stupid teenagers and stupid games."

Stiles follows, because that's the only thing he can do right now.

*

Turns out, this isn't 2013, and this isn't post senior year. He's in 2011, and this is the morning after Stiles and Scott had found Laura's body and Scott had gotten bitten. Except, in this freaky world, Stiles doesn't exist.

Why would Scott even go to the forest at night if Stiles didn't force him? Scott's said it himself, that if it wasn't for him Scott never would have had to endure the life he has. He could have been normal. If only Stiles wasn't there.

And in this world, Stiles wasn't.

He gets the answer the same time Melissa gets it, her mascara smudged, wedding ring on her finger, matching his dad's, both of them sitting on the couch of Stiles' childhood home.

"We haven't located him yet," his dad is saying, voice tinged with regret and fury. "That kid. What could have been so important that he went to the forest in the middle of the night? And after I told him about the body!"

So Laura is still dead, huh. He wonders why even this world is taking from Derek, but that's forgotten when Melissa says this —

"Did you ask Jackson? He knows everything that Scott does. He must know where our son is!"

Jackson and Scott are friends in this world? What even? Stiles had always believed that he was the only thing keep Scott from being cool and popular, and now he knows this to be true. If Stiles never existed, then Scott would have had a much better childhood. And much cooler people to hand out with.

"I did. He says Scott was terrified of the killer and had wanted Jackson to come over for a sleepover, but Lydia didn't let him." At least those two are still together. "And that was the last thing Jackson and Scott talked about."

Melissa looks up, staring straight at his dad. "And?"

His dad never beats around the bush. As a cop, it's much better to be blunt than to dance around the truth, and right here, right now, he's a cop delivering a bad news to a woman whose child is missing.

"And Scott had a fight with Lydia over that, apparently, and he went to cool down at his favorite spot in town." His dad pauses, and Stiles' stomach drops out.

"Where, John. Where?"

He says in sync with his dad, "In the preserve." And then in sync with Melissa, "Damn it Scott!"

*

Scott comes home in the evening, unscratched and alive, and it seems like he hasn't been bitten, and Stiles is glad for a moment, but then he sees things. Like Scott scrunching his face on the second floor when the main door opens and shuts, Melissa leaving for work, her worries for her son soothed. Like Scott laughing at seemingly nothing, but then Stiles goes down and sees that his dad's watching a rom-com in the living room. And most damning of all, the next day, Scott does the thing with the pen. He gives it to Allison right as she enters the class, like he heard she forgot hers — even with multiple walls and a good amount of distance between where that conversation happened and where Scott was sitting in the class.

And then Stiles realizes, he never had anything to do with this. It was Scott's destiny to become a werewolf, and it doesn't matter if Stiles is there or not. It's Scott's destiny.

"His destiny was always to become a True Alpha."

He's in his not-bedroom, sitting on Scott's bed, contemplating his original wish. He was upset at the time; Scott had reinforced his belief of Stiles ruining his life, and he'd just found out about the genie lamp Lydia ordered from... somewhere. It was like fate, him wishing to never exist, so that the people in his life could have a better life without him.

He's contemplating whether or not that wish was even warranted, and what are all the implications of him never existing in this world, what else changes, and if it doesn't really; that's when the genie decides to come back, a somber look on her face.

"He wasn't."

She scares the shit out of him, her hand on his knee, comforting but cold. He shrieks, and she gives a little smile, shakes her head. Repeats, "He wasn't meant to be an Alpha."

And Stiles tells her everything.

"Me being there... it doesn't matter. He became a werewolf in this world, because it was destiny." And, "I don't impact the people around me." And, "Nobody would miss me. Nobody. I'm just a nuisance. It's great for them that I don't exist in this world."

The genie looks at him sadly. "No, Stiles," she cups his cheeks, and he lets him, lets her wipe his tears with her thumb. It's comforting, like his mother's voice or her laugh. "That's not true. You matter. You matter in ways you don't even realize."

"Do I, really? Do I?"

"Yes. Scott was never meant to be a True Alpha, but you know who is? This person." She snaps her fingers, and they're in the charred remains of the Hale House suddenly, sitting on its burnt floor. Stiles' heartbeat quickens, and he sees him then — sad, angry, and terrified, all at once, all of it in his eyebrows, his face a marble statue carved out of a constant state of paranoia.

"Derek."

"Derek Hale," the genie agrees.

"He was...? But he gave up his powers. To save Cora. And then—"

"And then Derek's power weakened. It didn't vanish. For any other Alpha, the spark would have been depleted completely, but not for Derek."

"Not for Derek?"

"Not for the greatest Alpha to walk this land since the very first Alpha that ever existed." Stiles is too stunned to speak. All he can do is look at the Derek sitting in the corner of the destroyed living room, gripping a folded photo in his hands, looking so young yet so old. Wracked with guilt and pain, so much pain.

The genie continues.

"He is Destiny's Child. The Seed of Power, The Bloom of Prosperity. He is The Phoenix, risen from flames of blood and death and betrayal. He is the True Alpha, and for him, the power would have come back."

"Then why didn't it?" His head is spinning with all the titles, his mind hysterical over them. But he's sitting with a genie in a world that isn't his own, his legs turned to a single tail like a mermaid floating in air, and he believes now.

"Because where there is light, there is darkness. Deaton used nefarious ways to steal that Alpha Spark from Derek, and with Julia's sacrifices, the Nemeton was a powerful conduit for his malpractices of magic."

"And he gave that to Scott. But why?"

"Stiles... Derek is Power. And you? You are Knowledge. You know why."

"Seed of Knowledge... He's the brawns and I'm the brains? Geez, you make it sound like we're the two sides of the same coin." The genie just looks at him, her white eyes sparkling. He decides to not focus on that, instead thinking of an answer to his own question. And then he gets it. "Having power is great... but controlling it is even better."

"One makes you accountable, the other makes you the master."

Stiles has to admit, "Deaton is smart. Shit, does this mean Scott was manipulated all this time?"

"Perhaps. But right now, I want you to focus on this: What is your destiny? You said it youself, you're the two sides to the same coin. You, my child, were correct."

"Like I always am?"

"Like you always are," she agrees, and then they're shuffling through scenes of Stiles' life like it's a goddamn movie.

Every scene is Stiles saving Derek. Or being there for Derek. Being Pack.

When Stiles spent nearly a whole day with a dying Derek in his Jeep, and almost chopped off his arm save him.

When he let Derek lay low in his own room.

The pool.

After Boyd's death.

The time he spent the whole day at Derek's loft, deliberate and silent, a shoulder to lean on, the day of the fire's anniversary.

And on and on and on.

"That's you two, existing, side by side. Now look at this."

She shows him this world's Derek. His fate.

Derek dies by Kate's bullet, untrusting of Scott to go ask for help, and too stubborn to not haul ass into the Argent's mansion to go look for the bullet himself. Unfortunately for him, Grandpa Crazy was there, too, enjoying his meal. And then later...

"I don't- I can't- Not him, please, He can't die, I—"

They're back in his not-bedroom.

"Why would you show me that?! Why the hell would you—"

"Because you matter. Humans interact every day, and maybe sometimes those interactions mean nothing. But you and him? Each one of your interactions does mean something. Your Destiny is intertwined. You are the brain to his brawns, the brawns to his brains. You're strengths of each other in a way that Ares himself envies, that Apollo sings of, that Eros prides himself on."

"What are you saying?" This is getting too much for him, now. It's one thing to be there for each other, for him to mean something in someone's life, in Derek's life... but this? Too much.

The genie smiles, teeth and all. She has vampiric teeth, except all her teeth are long-fanged. "You are each other's."

Stiles pauses. Thinks through everything that has happened between him and Derek. They're friends. Derek is a beta and he's still the annoying human, and they're always circling each other, joking and ribbing and fighting and slamming each other into surfaces. Well, the last part Derek does to him.

They're close.

They're not in love.

"Not yet,"

"Don't tell me you can fucking mind-read." He only gets a smile in return, the full-fanged one. "Okay... moving on. What do you mean not yet? And you didn't actually complete your sentence. We are each other's what?"

"You are each other's everything." The words echo all around him, inside his skin, in his bones. They hold a weight, bearing down on his chest, arms around his body, like a tight, vicious grip, and the genie repeats, "Everything."

And that's the last thing he hears out of the genie before waking up on the preserve floor, Derek staring down at him, his eyes flashing red.

Stiles blinks up at him.

"Stiles, what did you do?"

He gulps.

"Technically, I didn't do anything,"

"Stiles!"

#sterek #derek hale #stiles stilinski #whenwordsmakesense #teen wolf #imma post this and close my phone and go to library and study. please pray for me 😭

[darklydeliciousdesires]

LADY - THOSE NEW PROMPTS! I didn't even read them all yet, BUT - I *NEED* 16 with Angel.

MATE!

MATE.

I was hoping someone would ask for this with him. We're doing the twin brain thing again :D

Yeah... this got away from me so it's more one shot than drabble, but a first orgasm deserves a little more attention to detail!

Smut below the cut, minors DNI!

“You’ve never had an orgasm? Are you kidding me right now?” 

You expected a reaction from your new boyfriend at confessing such, but perhaps not quite as loudly as Angel delivered it.

"What, you've never even gotten yourself there either?"

Shaking your head, your slight embarrassment is replaced by entertainment at the look on his face, giggling softly, hugging his big arm, resting your forehead on his shoulder. "Nope."

He gently shakes you off, standing. "Alright, this ain't standing." He points towards his bedroom. "Go get in the damned bed. I have rectifying to do, querida."

And lord, does he do just that.

"How's that feel, baby?" he asks a time later, laying kisses over your tits, his fingers burrowed deep in the sopping mess of your cunt. The way he moves them, too, not in and out, but in a wave, catching so many nerve endings, you could cry from how amazing it feels.

And he expects you to form words?!

"Ahhhhhh!"

He laughs softly, kissing his way down your trembling body. "That good, huh?"

Lying between your legs, he brings his other hand to your sex, thumb beginning to stroke over your clit, the feeling of his hot breath against your swollen, pillowy sex utterly sinful, Angel turning his head to grant your trembling inner thigh the press of his lips, delivering hot, open-mouthed kisses to your radiating skin.  

You are slick and soft around the unrelenting undulation of his clever fingers, malleable to him entirely as he continues to watch you, eyes never leaving yours.

The aqueous current of your arousal saturates his hand, his fingers keen against every delicious spot that has you throbbing with glimmers, forcing sharp breaths from your lungs, his thumb making those tingles suffuse even more.

“Fuck, you’re so wet.” You felt a touch of shame at just how wet he'd gotten you, not realising that this is exactly how you're supposed to be for a man, Angel watching as your glittering slick coats his skin, a smile curling his lips, anticipation over how he knows you're going to taste like peachy heaven settling low in him, like a wolf readying itself to pounce upon its prey. Waiting, watching.

His bicep flexes with effort, hand now plunging back and forth as he begins to twist what your slick walls grip, your wails unashamed, his mouth once again kissing your thigh.  

"God, it's so fucking beautiful, watching how turned on you're getting." Those words stoke the furnace of your arousal, his lips once again teasing, edging ever closer to your centre, swiping a little lick at the uppermost crease of your thigh, the action making you jolt.

You tremble, keening for him to lick you exactly where his thumb strokes tight circles, taste your silken dew, suck upon you as if you were honey. A faster push, your walls gripping him greedily, has you moaning without reserve, his hands coaxing it forth, drawing it from you, like someone rubbing the lamp to reveal the genie within. His only wish is to watch as your shatter for him, though.  

“Fuck, Angel! I’m gonna…”

He grins in triumph. “Yeah, you are. You’re gonna cum hard for me.” He knows he has you on the home run, fire licking your spine, your walls throbbing as they clutch at each thrust of his fingers, hooking them, dragging them against you, each of your cries louder than the last, his thumb rapidly stroking your bud, erect and twitching for him.

His eyes finally leave yours, watching your puffy little pussy spasming for him, the sight evoking a grunt of arousal, feeling you becoming glossier as he drags it from you, the undoing that has you clenching and shaking, your waves crashing against his shore, his fingers suddenly abandoning you, your ruined sex then covered by the heat of his mouth and licked further into divinity.

And there it is, white-hot and shooting through you, feeling like nothing ever has before, your wails feral, his tongue beating so quickly, you feel faint, gentling then as your hips quake furiously, his lips returning to your inner thigh.

"So, pretty good, huh?" Oh, he looks so damned pleased with himself, laughing at the look of shock on your face.

"...yeah..." you breathe, still feeling adrift from reality.

"You want another one?"

"...yeah..."

More laughter follows. "Alright, pretty lady. I can make that happen."

As you knew he would.

#angel reyes #angel reyes smut #angel reyes imagine #angel reyes fanfiction #angel reyes x female reader #angel reyes x you #angel reyes fanfic #mayans mc #mayans mc smut #mayans mc imagine #mayans mc fanfiction #mayans mc fanfic #ddd drabble requests

[hellomisst]

I'm never moving on from The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue

The angst. The yearning. Incredible.

Adeline LaRue was a young girl from a small town dreaming of a world bigger than what she sees. Then, out of desperation, she made a deal with the devil.

Or is he the devil?

“I am not some genie, bound to your whim." He pushes off the tree. "Nor am I some petty forest spirit, content with granting favors for mortal trinkets. I am stronger than your god and older than your devil. I am the darkness between stars, and the roots beneath the earth. I am promise, and potential, and when it comes to playing games, I divine the rules, I set the pieces, and I choose when to play. And tonight, I say no.”

And so her wish of freedom was granted... with a price. She has all the time in the world to enjoy life and to not be bound by anything. Being unbound, then, means no one would remember her. Such is the price when you make a deal with the gods that answer after dark but you do not know what you want and you do not clear up your own conditions, rules, and limitations.

Spoilers past this line.

Addie named Luc, and by doing so, she humanized him.

I CANNOT MOVE ON from their dynamic. For years, decades, centuries, no one can remember her. No one can mention her name, not even Addie herself. Only Luc who has been taunting her, pushing her to give up her life.

Now, let me clear this up: I DO acknowledge that the power dynamics between them play a huge role in their relationship. Her craving love and attention stemmed from the fact that no one else can know her deeply enough to create a legitimate human connection, affection, and relationship. Thus, her growing feelings for Luc became inevitable. Luc had full control over her and her life, while all she wanted was freedom to live. With this, let me expressly say that I fully understand and support Addie's scheme in the end (...but I cannot deny that I'm rooting for Luc once and for all admitting defeat, and Addie and Luc having a healthy relationship 😭).

OKAY. So. WHEN THEY STARTED FLIRTING??? I KEPT WANTING TO THROW THE BOOK TO THE WALL!!! Like, DAMN!!! WHY CAN'T Y'ALL JUST BE TOGETHER???? Luc's rizz is undeniable as fuck. And Addie's stubbornness mixes well with his smoothness, thereby successfully intoxicating me.

Luc lifts his glass. "Happy anniversary, my Adeline." She looks at him, lips parting with their usual retort, but then stops short. If she is his—then by now he must be hers as well. "Happy anniversary, my Luc," she answers, just to see the face he'll make. She is rewarded with a raised brow, the crooked upturn of his mouth, the green of his eyes shifting in surprise.

Now, I know that when she was with Henry, they were really healthy. Sure, even Addie does not know if it was love or if it was all just because he was the first human to ever see her as she is. I thought they would be together and overcome Luc's deals. But no.

Even then, Luc can really sweep you off your feet. One thing I hate is how they blame Luc for everything. He is the darkness. In our current world, he is what we call the devil. Of course he is an opportunist. Of course he would always take the upper hand. The bad side of their deal came up because they would not look into the intricacies of the deals they are making. I also acknowledge that Luc always comes in times when one would not really be in the right mind to make a serious deal... so there's that.

BUT. The angst really comes in to take over you. It was chapters in the making. It's a slow burn you wouldn't notice

"You told me once that we were alike," he says, almost to himself. "Both of us... lonely. I loathed you for saying it. But I suppose in some ways you were right. I suppose," he goes on slowly, "there is something to the idea of company." It is the closest he has ever come to sounding human. "Do you miss me," she asks, "when you are not here?" Those green eyes drift up, the emerald even in the dark. "I am here, with you, more often than you think." "Of course," she says, "you come and go whenever you want. I have no choice but to wait." His eyes darken with pleasure. "Do you wait for me?" And now it is Addie who looks away. "You said it yourself. We all crave company." "And if you could call on me, as I call on you?" Her heart quickens a little. She does not look up, and that is why she sees it, rolling toward her on the table. A slim band, carved of pale ash wood. It is a ring. It is her ring. ... "Put it on, and I will come." Luc leans back in his chair, the night breeze blowing through those raven curls. "There," he says, "Now we are even."

The way my stomach erupted with butterflies! The slow confession. The subtle dropping of hints of their feelings here and there. Everything keeps you on your toes. "Will they or will they not? Is there something or not?"

"At least he keeps me company." Those emerald eyes trail over her skin. "So would I," he says, "if you wanted it."

And so I was kept thinking. Will Luc ever confess? Will Addie ever... agree to it? Accept it? Forgive him?

What's been keeping them apart is the fact that Addie sees Luc as the devil. As the one who made her life miserable. Which is true, to be fair. So I won't ever blame her. Trauma is there and they are bonding.

Like I said, I understand Addie and I understand that there's power play here. Her walls are up, she keeps her guards up, she's hostile towards him, and she's very suspicious because he does not play fair. He never did. But then he started to open up. He started equalizing their position and power.

From what I understand, throughout time, Addie became less and less human, and she learned to hate more and more because the only one who became constant in her life is Luc. On the other hand, Luc became more and more human, and he learned to love and understand more and more because (probably) the only person he has ever spent time with constantly is Addie.

THEN.

"Even if everyone you met remembered," Luc says, "I would still know you best." She searches his face. "Do I know you?" He bows his head over hers. "You are the only one who does." ... His voice, molded to the hollow places in her as he says, "I want you." And then, again, "I have always wanted you." Luc looks down at her, those green eyes dark with pleasure, and Addie fights to hold her ground. "You want me as a prize," she says. "You want me as a meal, or a glass of wine. Just another thing to be consumed." He dips his head, presses his lips to her collarbone. "Is that so wrong?" She fights back a shiver as he kisses her throat. "Is it such a bad thing..." His mouth trails along her jaw. "...to be savored?" His breath brushes her ear. "To be relished?"

I SCREAMED. Internally. BUT IF I WAS LIVING ALONE, I SWEAR TO GOD. If I didn't care about the book and if it wasn't so expensive (fuck inflation), I WOULD'VE THROWN THIS TO THE WALL SCREAMING.

Anyway, Addie's stronger than me because I would've fallen for him and his tactics over and over again...

"I love you." They are in New Orleans when he says it, dining in a hidden bar in the French Quarter, one of his many installations. Addie shakes her head, amazed the words do not turn to ash in his mouth. "Do not pretend that this is love." Annoyance flashes across Luc's face. "What is love, then? Tell me. Tell me your heart does not flutter when you hear my voice. That it doesn't ache when you hear your name in my lips." "It is my own name I ache for, not your lips." The edge of his mouth curls up, his eyes now emerald. A brightness born of pleasure. "Once, perhaps," he says. "But now it's more." She is afraid that he is right.

I TOLD YOU????? BUT. Does that mean... that is how Luc feels when Addie says his name... when he hears Addie's voice...?

BUT. It also means Addie already feels something. Again, it might be because he's the only constant thing in her life. He's the only one who remembers and that's because he made it that way. But, he did offer to change the terms... Only that there was a misunderstanding because of everything that has happened and how she understands he, and his actions, works.

In the end, Addie's suspicions are justified. Sad for Luc, yes, but Addie has been suffering and it's because of him. If he can change—if he's willing to change—and he grants Addie's freedom with no consequences, no strings attached, and Addie gets to choose her own life in her own terms and who she wants to be with, then maybe when she chooses Luc, it can be healthy...

"I will give you what you want," he says. "If you will do one thing." "What?" she asks. Luc holds out his hand. "Dance with me," he says.

This part was very sad for me. It was clear that Luc has real feelings for her, yet Addie can no longer trust. Damage has been done. Their lines intersected, and from here, they'll only grow apart... Not physically, but emotionally.

But I think it's fitting. Luc is not human, though he is growing more human. Addie is human, but she is becoming more scheming... less human. They really cannot be together because Luc will always hold power and Luc is (or was?) manipulative. And Addie cannot find it in her to trust him again. Though Luc might change, to Addie, he is only the devil. And that is justified (though sad).

"What a hard lesson it must be for you," she says. "That you can't have everything you want." "Want?" he sneers. "Want is for children. If this were want, I would be rid of you by now. I would have forgotten you centuries ago," he says, a bitter loathing in his voice. "This is need. And need is painful but patient. Do you hear me, Adeline? I need you. As you need me. I love you, as you love me." She hears the pain in his voice.

Before we continue, may I just say one thing. LUC ALWAYS CALLS HER "ADELINE". Not "Addie" but "Adeline". And I think that means something.

Addie has always wanted to be "Addie", the name Estelle gave her. Since before, she did not want to be "Adeline". But, as she lived her immortal life, she kept wanting to go back to her old life. She yearned to be remembered again, even if it meant being tied down... But then she kept remembering she never wanted to be married and to just stay there forever. So even if she kept yearning for her life as "Adeline", she would still always want to be "Addie".

And Luc... calls her "Adeline". Easy explanation: Luc always says that she's always been his. That's because she traded her soul for freedom. This means she is really his, her whole being and life, whether as "Adeline" or "Addie"; but her birth name is "Adeline", and so her real, purest, and barest being is "Adeline". "Addie" came from "Adeline", whether it's just her name or her being.

But in my head: Being "Adeline" is being home, and Luc offered her just that :))

Another interpretation in my head (sad): Luc only sees her and/ or he keeps her as her former self, when Addie wants to be "Addie" aka free. He keeps her as "Adeline", the person who was desperate and in need, when she wants and needs to be "Addie", a person who is free. Thus, Luc is the shackles that hold her back from being free; they had a deal and she is still bound to him. As long as she is kept within a deal, she can never be free. Addie has to be free from Luc to be truly free.

"They can have the story," he says. "So long as I have you."

The ending. Henry did not have a happy ending with Addie because Addie is now with Luc. Yet, in the book's ending, Addie is scheming to make Luc hate her so that he would (unintentionally?) set her free, based on the new deal they had.

Should her plan work, then it will be true to her character: stubborn as a rock, and only wanting freedom. By extension, it highlights her true freedom as no man will ever own her or have her; fitting as she wanted to escape marriage long ago.

However, let us remember that The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue, in the book, was written by Henry... and he never knew the true ending. Of what happened to Addie. Where she is. How she is now with Luc. How she and Luc treat each other. So we can also interpret that as Henry attempting to make a good and open ending for Addie :))

For me, I'll try to think and think about this because I'm clearly never moving on!! Maybe Luc can change and Addie can accept that. Maybe not. Maybe she will be free but Luc will still try to pursue her. Maybe after a long time, she can realize that he really has changed. Maybe they can be together. Maybe not because they have been toxic.

Who knows :))

#book #dark academia #the invisible life of addie larue #addie larue #ve shwab #adeline larue #book review #book recommendations #angst #yearning #slow burn #enemies to lovers

[kabra-malvada]

Ehem:

Genie AU.

Sum doods:

Hit those notes:

You find a rusty lamp on sale on a vintage store, you buy it and bring it home to restore it. But the damn thing came with a prize... two to be exact.

You convince them to grant you 6 wishes instead of 3 cuz of a legal loophole.

Sun is enthusiastic about his position as a genie, altho he would rather be free, he finds joy in what he does: Granting people's wishes. Moon on the other hand, hates it. He feels as if he's just an object to be used so he has lost all hope of ever being freed.

The only way to free the twinks twins is if their master (you) uses their very last wish to do so. You decide it is time for them to be free, but for the love of god you can't decide on what to wish for.

The rules for the wishes they can and can't grant are the typical: can't bring back the dead, can't make someone fall in love, no inmortality, etc. Both are really strict with the rules.

That's it for now, yet again: if I think of anything else I'll post some doodles and notes :)

#sun/moon fnaf #sun/moon x reader #fnaf self insert #fnaf daycare attendant #fnaf moon #fnaf sun #fnaf x reader #fan art #fnafsb #fnaf au

[indireneedofsleeeep]

Dreamling, Aladdin AU part 3 (part 1)

“Is there anything you wish for?” Dream asks, but doesn’t get an answer. The human who summoned him only looks at him, gobsmacked. Some of them do. Unfazed, Dream keeps going, trying a variation of his mandatory line, “Name your wish, Master, as it is my purpose to fulfill them.”

Seconds pass and the human gets out of his torpor. Enough at least for his lips to regain their ability to move and form words. Unfortunately, those words do not form a wish.

“It is... Do I... What?”

Dream refrains from rolling his eyes.

“I am the Genie of the Lamp,” he repeats, “You summoned me.”

“I did?”

“You did.” Obviously, this human has little knowledge of wish granting genies. Which was probably to be expected. The passing of time is hard to estimate inside a lamp, but Dream wouldn’t be surprised if centuries had gone by since the last time his services had been requested. “What you own is no common lamp, but a magical one. You rubbed it, and I appeared, as I will each time you do it again.“

Still hesitant, the human must have come to grips with at least some of what Dream told him, for he points at the lamp on the ground as if to make sure they are on the same page.

“This lamp is magical,” he starts, and, when his point doesn’t get refuted, he continues, “and you say I own it...as in it belongs to me...”

Humans and semantics!

“Whoever holds the lamp owns it. From their first summoning and until their third wish has been granted.”

“So, finding the lamp means you get to command a genie, eh,” says the human, who sounds like he’s just understood not only Dream’s explanation but some private mystery that has been bothering him as well. “And you mentioned three wishes, right? Does it mean... I can really ask for whatever I want?”

Disbelief, another human classic, but a somewhat refreshing one. The last people Dream’s been around didn’t question the existence of genies, nor their capacities. He can even remember a small town whose community had mandated a champion to find the lamp and bring it back. They had then waited in line to use it. Dream couldn’t tell how many wishes he did grant on that day, safe that it was a multiple of three.

The only advantage was that, in those times, he didn’t need to restate his powers’ restrictions constantly.

“You can ask for everything your imagination can convey, with four exceptions. I can’t kill, I can’t revive, I have no power over love and wishing for more wishes will do nothing but cost you a wish.”

The human doesn’t argue - which is a relief, really - but he makes a rather amusing pout.

“Were you planning on killing someone, Master?”

“Killing? No. ‘Wouldn’t lose a wish for it, anyway. It’s that ‘wishing for more wishes’ thing. Would have been damn convenient...” For a moment, the human’s eyes get lost in the distance as he muses on the fantasy of an unlimited number of wishes. Thought he’s quick to come back down to earth with a resigned sight. “But...yeah, I mean, I understand. Must be kind of boring having to work for the same guy again and again...”

“And Dangerous,” Dream can’t help but add, “that is, for the ‘guy’ who keeps the lamp. People have killed for it, more than once. Use your three wishes, Master, you’ll sleep with less worry.”

Dream is surprised when his ominous warning is only met with a big smile.

“You don’t need to worry about that! Oh, and it’s Hob, by the way. Well, Robert Gadling, actually, but really just Hob.”

Not every lamp user takes the time to introduce themselves. To be honest, Dream doesn’t care that much about their identities, but it is his role to serve them as best as he can; if he is given a name, he is to use it.

“As you please  , Master Gadling.”

At this, the human winces, as if he doesn’t like the sounds of it.

“No, the ‘master’, it...it’s really too weird. Just call me Hob.”

For someone who just had his first supernatural encounter, Hob Gadling accepted the concepts of genie and magic quite easily, all things considered, but it’s the term ‘Master’ on which he stumbles. It could almost bring the shadow of a smile on Dream’s lips.

“As you please, Hob Gadling.”

Hob opens his mouth, as if to add something, before he closes it again, shrugging whatever it was off and offering Dream another smile. Then something flashes in his eyes and his expression change into one of mid-panic.

“Wait, hey, that wasn’t a wish, right? When I told you how to call me?”

Dream does roll his eyes this time. Such a fright at the thought of losing something he didn’t even possess half an hour ago!

“No, it wasn’t. You are still to make your first wish.”

“Ok, ok,” Hob sighs, a hand on his heart to calm his heartbeat, “I’m going to make it now! I’m going to use my first wish!”

“Then you would want to hold the lamp, for that is a requirement.”

Dream watches Hob’s expression come from ‘what lamp?’ to the sudden realisation of ‘oh, that lamp!’. He promptly looks at his feet to spot the discarded artefact - just as Dream himself, the lamp emits its own light, so there is no missing it in the current obscurity - before he grabs it and clutches it to his chest.

“I am listening.”

“I want,” Hob starts, a bright smile back on his features, “to live forever.”

Dream closes his eyes, ‘Not this again!’ echoing in his mind.

To be fair, immortality is not one of the most common wishes. People tend to ask for riches, health, power or a peaceful existence more than for eternal life. Yet, it happens. And, in Dreams' experience, it never ends well. A couple of owners were able to come back on their ill-advised decision using a remaining wish. Those were the lucky ones. And since this Hob Gadling seemed rather alarmed at the thought of having wasted a precious wish...

“Are you sure? This is not a wish one should made lightly.”

“Well, yes, I am sure,” Hob answers, unwavering. If anything, Dream’s intervention only managed to irritated him. “Is it my wish or not? You said I could ask for whatever my imagination could convey. Well that’s it. I don’t want to die. Ever.”

“It was not my intention to question your resolve”, Dream explains more than he apologies, “Others before have asked to escape the gift of Death, only to end up trapped in a life they could never escape. You would be the first not to regret it...”

“Let my surprise you, then!” Hob offers. No, challenges, and isn’t that an unconventional exchange... Anyway, it isn’t Dream’s function to preserve owners from idiocy.

“As you please, Hob Gadling. Wish it then.”

“I do!”  

“You have to use the word, to differentiate your wishes from other expressed desires.”

Hob nods in understanding, takes a deep breath that puffs out his chest and,   as if he’s been ready for this his entire life, he pronounces the fateful words.

“Genie, I wish to live forever!”

“Your wish is my command, Hob Gadling.”  

And, as he must, Dream grants it.

It takes him less than a second and requires no burst of glitter, no dramatic show of lights, not even a snap of his fingers. All Dream has to do is will it. Of course, as most humans, Hob is visibly waiting for nothing less than being struck by lightning as raw power rushes through his body. He manages to wait 9 full seconds.

“So, huh...is it done?”

“It is. Your first wish has been granted.”

“Oh, great, thank you! It’s just that, well, I don’t feel very different...  How do I know it worked?”

“When you realise you don’t age, or when you get killed and survive, should it happen first. Suicide could make a good test but I don’t recommend it. You are immortal, not invulnerable, and you can be hurt.”

Dream has realised a long time ago that the life of a genie consists for a good  part in giving warnings that won’t be taken into account. And indeed, if Hob’s next actions can not strictly be regarded as a suicide, it isn’t too far either.

After making the lamp disappear inside his jacket, he fumbles around in the direction of what Dream can only assume was once the exit of the cave they are confined to. If Dream may have briefly found him refreshing, amusing, surprising even, he now knows it without a doubt: Hob Gadling is a fool.

The way out is blocked by an impressive pile of mud and rocks and the man has visibly decided he was going to unblock it himself, in the dark, with his bare hands for only tools.

“Mast- Hob Gadling, if we are trapped, a wish could safely get us out of here...”

“It’s fine. All I need to do is make those rocks fall further down. Nature is working with me.”

As far as Dream is concerned, it is part of the problem.

“You risk being buried under the rubble.”

“I can’t die, right? I’ll un-bury myself. Or someone will, eventually. I have nothing else to do anyway and I sure can handle a little pain - especially if it means saving a wish!”

When he had been summoned, Dream had hoped to fulfill his duties and go back to the seclusion of his lamp in the shortest possible time. Things didn’t seem to be heading that way...

Hope you liked it! Just wanted to tell you that since this thing is becoming longer (and will take me longer ) than expected, I’ll post it on AO3 from now on ;)

#dreamling #au #aladdin au

[wishmaster]

The Missing Lamp

Holy Shit, Fuck, Fuck, Fuck! The boss is going to be so pissed off and you don't want the Curator Pissed off at you. One of our Magic Lamps is missing, Damn gone, Poof nowhere to be found. I am so fucked if he finds out before I retrieve it. Who knows what he'd do to me. I don't even want to think the last guy to fuck up in my postion is a cursed butt plug now. Where could it have gone?

This thing doesn't seem so magical Bobby said as he walked the dark streets at night he's newest acquisition in hand. But the guys swear it's a magic lamp. Guess we'll find out.

What mere Mortal Summons me?

Fuck he was real! Are you a genie?

I am a Djinn, yes.

You grant wishes?

Within reason, yes.

What is it you desire,,,master?

He never felt such power, he could have anything

Be aware that each wish will cost you master. I don't grant for free

I wish to be rich and beautiful.

he clapped his hands

Suddenly Bobby was a gorgeous young woman.

You are now the trophy wife of one of the richest and oldest billionaires in the world.

Like eww. bobby's personality changed meaning the type of wish he made would change.

I wish I could fuck any hot sext guy I wanted whenever I wanted.

Suddenly Bobby was bent over a car waiting for her current stud to come on set and fuck her. She was now a Porn Star. Like yeah But I wish I was way sexier I want guys to obsess over me.

Suddenly Bobby was a sexy looking Motorcycle that he new owner Hector Obsessed over constantly. She didn't care what he did as long as he'd swing those leather covered legs over her and ride her down the highway.

With the three wishes granted the Djinn and the lamp vanished to it's next target

#body transformation #gender transformation #gender swap #twisted wish #inanimate transformation

[ertrunkenerwassergeist]

Can you tell us how the tea-time talk between Regis and Epistéme went? Because I can't imagine she would tell him anything about Galahdian history. And he would absolutely notice that.

The first time Episéme gets the letter, she doesn't even notice. In Lucis she never gets letters that aren't bills, and she knows when they are due. The University simply sends her e-mails that always land in her spam folder, probably in the hopes that she won't show up to whatever they had to invite her to. Well, joke's on them. Genis has the will of a wet paper bag and will tell her when something his coming up, should she ask.

Anyway. Point is, Episéme doesn't check her letterbox nearly as much as she probably should, and neither do her cousins. So she doesn't get the first letter. But oh spirits, does she get the second one.

It's early in the morning. It's cold - well, it's the second Shivata, so that's a given - and she's home. Her cousins thankfully have all gone out to work their own jobs, so Epistéme has the apartment to herself. Papers are strewn all over the couch she's lounging on with a mug of her stongest tea. That stuff is better than any coffee, no matter what those heathens at the university say.

She's supposed to be grading papers, but it's going slowly and in her tiny office she would be constantly interrupted, so she's here when the doorbell rings.

Epistéme nearly spills her tea in surprise. "Fohn," she mutters under her breath. So much for no interruptions.

The doorbell rings again.

"Scha, scha, tila!" she calls.

On her way to the door she nearly stumbles over drawing supplies scattered across the floor. Someone - yes, looking at you Atana - must have left them lying around.

Epistéme fumbles with the door handle - that old thing will break on them one of these days, mark her words - and finally manages to open the door. It takes her a few seconds too long to register the black uniform.

"Episteme Arra?"

In response Episéme slams the door shut in the Lord Marshal's face.

By the spirits. What does he want from her? Had she done something? Had one of those noble snobs at the university finally called the 'Guard on her? Wait, could they even do that? Wait, no. Probably not. So what was Cor spirits-damned Leonis doing in front of her door?

A knock.

"Miss Arra, by order of His Majesty, open the door."

A whine escapes her throat. Oh fuck, oh fuck. What did she do? Epistéme takes a deep breath - or at least tries to. Okay, calm down. There is no use in avoiding the unavoidable. She's going to face this like a true scholar. She makes sure the oversized jumper and the layered skirt sit as best as they can. Then she opens the door.

The Lord Marshal is scowling, clearly displeased. Which, fair. You don't get a door slammed into your face every day.

"Yes?" she asks, doing her best to pretend the last few seconds did not happen.

"Episteme Arra?" he asks again, and again pronouncing her name slightly wrong.

"Yes, that's me," sha says, heart in her throat.

The Lord Marshal reaches inside his uniform jacket and pull out an envelope. Epistéme stares at it. It's a stark black with golden embellishments. Her eyes widen and she feels her mouth going dry.

"Why am I being summoned by His Majesty?" she finds herself asking.

"So you know what this is," the Marshal says.

Now Epistéme huffs. "Of course I do. In this city one cannot escape royal history."

The Marshal doesn't even twitch at her tone. She takes the letter and opens it then and there. Better to get this over with and the Marshal away from her doorstep. Taking in the elegant cursive, she feels her eyes widen. Looking up at the Marshal, the man simply looks at her, frown set in his face.

"One moment, please," she says and slams the door shut again.

***

Regis is very pleased when Cor calls to tell him Miss Arra will join him for a late morning tea. It's a bit short notice, but the servants manage to get the Black Salon ready - the one usually used to entertain important dignitaries. Regis smiles. He can just imagine the servants talking. Clarus keeps shooting him looks.

"I know what you are thinking, old friend, but it cannot hurt to ask," Regis says.

Clarus sighs. He clearly swallows down his protests - knowing they will fall on deaf ears - and instead recites the information him and Cor had gathered yet again.

"Episteme Arra, Galahdian refugee, 32 years old and living with three cousins in an apartment in what is now colloquially called Little Galahd. She is a researcher and assistant teacher at Crown University. Her focus point there is early Lucian history. Her collegues say she keeps to herself and is hard to get along with, but she is a dedicated worker. Also she has some reseach projects that she does in her own time, however no one can tell what they are. She has applied to visit the Royal Archives a total of 38 times and was denied each time."

Regis nods to show he has been listening.

A knock sounds and a servant slips inside the room, bowing deep to the two men.

"Your Majesty, Miss Arra is here and has been guided into the Black Salon."

"Thank you. You may go."

The servants bows again and leaves the room.

"Regis," Clarus says, the tone of his voice carrying the meaning of a whole sentence.

"Not ot worry," Regis says. "This is only simple curiosity."

Clarus clearly did not believe that, but kept silent.

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

Regis steps into the Black Salon. It's a splendid room, with a black marble floor, beautifully patterned rugs, and walls and ceiling made of black stained wood. The furniture is classic Lucian with silver embellishments. Sadly it is too cloudy for the sun to give it that special glow.

Miss Arra rises from the plush chair she had been sitting in. She is tall, with skin a few tones darker than his and long black hair. It holds the characteristic Galahdian braids and adornments. She wears a dark grey turtleneck and a red skirt with orange and white patterns Regis cannot decipher. Her shins and knees are covered in what his research has uncovered as traditional leg warmers. She curtsies, and it would be perfect, if not for the shortness of her skirt.

"Your Majesty, it's an honour to have received your invitation," she says.

Regis believes her as much as he believes Cor when he says he likes paperwork.

"Miss Arra, thank you for agreeing to this meeting," he says. "Please, sit."

She waits until Regis sat down. So she knows her etiquette. Interesting.

The moment they sit a servant enters with a cart, carrying the tea and snacks. It's Blue Star tea along with nuts, dried fruits and chocolate tart with bamohn. Regis did his research. It all is served with one of their best tea sets and his grandmother's black porcelain. Miss Arra looks a bit wide eyed at the proceedings.

"Now then," Regis says once the servant is gone, "I must apologise for the scare my Marshal gave you this morning."

"No, no! It's- well, thank you," Miss Arra says, stammering a bit. She eyes the tea and the snacks in front of her, her posture stiff but perfect.

"Did he tell you why I wanted this meeting with you?"

"No."

Of course he didn't.

Regis reaches for a thin foulder on a small table next to him and slides it towards Miss Arra. It contains a copy of the diary entry mentioning the Conqueror sailing towards Galahd, as well as a few pages containing notes pertaining the diary the entry was from, as well as notes of the prliminary research that had already been done in his name.

"I believe, Miss Arra, you might be in the unique position to answer a few questions I have concerning this," he says.

"Oh," she says as she skims over the diary entry. "That."

#raven-6-10 #ask #ffxv #blinded history au #epistéme arra #cor leonis #regis lucis caelum #clarus amicitia #well #this went slightly out of hand #also not quite the answer you wanted #sorry #XD #for the hadnissa #fohn = mild expression of frustration #scha scha tila = yes yes I'm coming #cor's a+ communication skills #regis just wants answers #he's curious like that #he knows he's fanning rumours #but he didn't realise those rumours are 'the king is having an open love affair with a refugee historian' #clarus was aware this might happen #and tried to stop it #but regis does as regis wants #epistéme wants to be anywhere else please #lucians always mispronounce her name #geist answers #geist writes #long post