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#to help him become/remain king
lilislegacy · 2 months
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did anyone else ever find it odd how easily zeus offered percy godhood? and how it almost seemed like he secretly wanted percy to accept? well i did, and after thinking long and hard about it…
i don’t think percy understood what turning down godhood really meant
demigods do tasks for the gods because they don’t have to follow any rules. they aren’t controlled by anyone or anything. demigods are a strange hybrid - not god, not human. they are in between the laws of immortal and mortal. they are not supposed to exist. yet they do, which is what makes them so extraordinary.
percy is crazy powerful. of course, there’s the aspect of raw power. he has domain over air (storms/hurricanes), land (earthquakes and volcanic eruptions), and sea (monster waves, tsunamis, floods, basically anything that involves water.) he can control bodily fluids. he has super strength (with one hand, he held up an unconscious annabeth who was being pulled down by both arachne AND the forces of tartarus). he has super speed (he moves faster than bullets in TTC). no matter how badly you hurt him, he automatically heals and regenerates the second he touches water (an ability no other demigod has). he’s an extraordinary swordsman. very skilled in combat and warfare. he’s smart, and thinks of plans quickly. but he also has a great deal of social/poltcial power… i mean, he’s a leader and hero to both the greek and roman camps. if he says “attack,” all demigods, greek or roman, attack. no question. do you have any idea how threatening that is to the olympians? he’s also best friends and has an empathy link with the lord of the wild, which basically means all of nature is by his side too, including all land creatures. he’s also prince of horses, which means pegasi too (both of which are extremely useful in battle). and of course all sea creatures, including the mythical ones like krakens and leviathans. not to mention many of the gods really like him. hermes, hephaestus, athena, aphrodite, and dionysis have all gone out of their way to help him. artemis holds him in high regard, especially since he saved her. apollo literally considers him his friend! and poseidon - his dad, the god who is the biggest threat to zeus - is fiercely protective of him and cares about him a great deal. many minor gods also like him because he demanded them to be given more respect and for their kids to be welcomed at the camps.
percy unknowingly has more power, both physical and social/political, than anyone should ever have. he may have absolutely no idea, but it must scare the living daylights out of zeus. by accepting zeus’s offer to become a god, percy would have submitted himself to the control of zeus. zeus would be his king and ruler. zeus would then have complete control over him.
but percy said no. therefore, percy remains out of zeus’s control.
percy had no idea what he was doing. but thank the gods he made that choice. thank the gods he’s an incredible person. thank the gods percy jackson has no desire for power, because he has more of it than anyone should ever be able to have.
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fursasaida · 5 months
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This article is from 2022, but it came up in the context of Palestine:
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Here are some striking passages, relevant to all colonial aftermaths but certainly also to the forms we see Zionist reaction taking at the moment:
Over the decade I lived in South Africa, I became fascinated by this white minority [i.e. the whole white population post-apartheid as a minority in the country], particularly its members who considered themselves progressive. They reminded me of my liberal peers in America, who had an apparently self-assured enthusiasm about the coming of a so-called majority-minority nation. As with white South Africans who had celebrated the end of apartheid, their enthusiasm often belied, just beneath the surface, a striking degree of fear, bewilderment, disillusionment, and dread.
[...]
Yet these progressives’ response to the end of apartheid was ambivalent. Contemplating South Africa after apartheid, an Economist correspondent observed that “the lives of many whites exude sadness.” The phenomenon perplexed him. In so many ways, white life remained more or less untouched, or had even improved. Despite apartheid’s horrors—and the regime’s violence against those who worked to dismantle it—the ANC encouraged an attitude of forgiveness. It left statues of Afrikaner heroes standing and helped institute the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, which granted amnesty to some perpetrators of apartheid-era political crimes.
But as time wore on, even wealthy white South Africans began to radiate a degree of fear and frustration that did not match any simple economic analysis of their situation. A startling number of formerly anti-apartheid white people began to voice bitter criticisms of post-apartheid society. An Afrikaner poet who did prison time under apartheid for aiding the Black-liberation cause wrote an essay denouncing the new Black-led country as “a sewer of betrayed expectations and thievery, fear and unbridled greed.”
What accounted for this disillusionment? Many white South Africans told me that Black forgiveness felt like a slap on the face. By not acting toward you as you acted toward us, we’re showing you up, white South Africans seemed to hear. You’ll owe us a debt of gratitude forever.
The article goes on to discuss:
"Mau Mau anxiety," or the fear among whites of violent repercussions, and how this shows up in reported vs confirmed crime stats - possibly to the point of false memories of home invasion
A sense of irrelevance and alienation among this white population, leading to another anxiety: "do we still belong here?"
The sublimation of this anxiety into self-identification as a marginalized minority group, featuring such incredible statements as "I wanted to fight for Afrikaners, but I came to think of myself as a ‘liberal internationalist,’ not a white racist...I found such inspiration from the struggles of the Catalonians and the Basques. Even Tibet" and "[Martin Luther] King [Jr.] also fought for a people without much political representation … That’s why I consider him one of my most important forebears and heroes,” from a self-declared liberal environmentalist who also thinks Afrikaaners should take back government control because they are "naturally good" at governance
Some discussion of the dynamics underlying these reactions, particularly the fact that "admitting past sins seem[ed] to become harder even as they receded into history," and US parallels
And finally, in closing:
The Afrikaner journalist Rian Malan, who opposed apartheid, has written that, by most measures, its aftermath went better than almost any white person could have imagined. But, as with most white progressives, his experience of post-1994 South Africa has been complicated. [...]
He just couldn’t forgive Black people for forgiving him. Paradoxically, being left undisturbed served as an ever-present reminder of his guilt, of how wrongly he had treated his maid and other Black people under apartheid. “The Bible was right about a thing or two,” he wrote. “It is infinitely worse to receive than to give, especially if … the gift is mercy.”
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champagnefountains · 4 months
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LUCIFER MAGNE - H.H.
Prompt: Lucifer continuing to wear his wedding ring despite being in a relationship with you.
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Genre: Angst and hurt; somewhat fluffy (but only for a brief while). Warnings: Swearing. Unhealthy relationship/coping mechanisms (?). Word count: 2.2k+
Lucifer had been courting you for a couple of months already, the King of Hell finally deciding it was time to make the two of you official. The tension was so incredibly thick, that even the hotel’s patrons were growing sick of having to watch the two of you dance aimlessly around each other. Charlie included. 
The past couple of months were more than delightful – Lucifer treated you like a Queen, taking you out almost every other night, having nice candle-lit dinners, and dancing the night away. And if you weren’t really feeling the glamour, the both of you would stay cuddled up against one another whilst watching some cliche rom-com. It was like a dream. It was perfect…well, almost. 
The very source of your concerns was the golden band that remained in Lucifer’s ring-finger. 
You knew about the heart-break and torment that Lucifer underwent following his separation with Lilith. Understandably, having been together for many decades and centuries, the King had a difficult time trying to move on. Even in the earlier stages of your relationship, when he had been comfortable confiding in you, it was evident that he still deeply cared for Lilith, despite her absence. 
You tried to be understanding – you really, really did. But every time you held his hand, the cold metal feeling against your fingers set a painful reminder that maybe he still hasn’t moved on completely. 
It filled you to the brim with self-doubt. Perhaps he was just keeping you around just to fill in the void she had left. And if that were the case, were you even doing a good enough job in that? Hypothetically, if Lilith were to waltz in front of the hotel’s doors one day, was he going to throw you off to the side and run away with her? What if he’d grow bored of you all of a sudden?
Questions such as these would linger at the back of your head constantly, and as they did, you would cast a longing gaze in his direction. When he catches your eye, he would automatically send a smile your way, pearly-whites in full display. It would make you smile without fail, because how could it not? You loved that dashing smile of his. But everyday, you wondered if you could continue to maintain that smile in your life. 
One night in particular, during dinner at one of Hell’s finest establishments, Lucifer noticed that something was off. Your smile hasn’t been reaching your eyes, and you seemed like you were anywhere but here. Your eyes had a distant look to them and whenever he’d ask if something was wrong, you would become dismissive. It concerned him a lot. 
“Darling, are you alright?” Lucifer carefully asked once you both made it to the front porch of the hotel. “Was it the food? Was it not to your liking? Because the chicken was a bit off to be honest, it could’ve been a bit more seasoned–” 
“Luci,” you intervened and grabbed his hands, giving them a reassuring squeeze. “The food was great, really. It’s just…” As your voice trailed off, you were quick to feel that damn ring around his finger. Because, of course you did, and it didn’t help your mood at all. You force out a huff and pull away, causing the demon’s frown to deepen, “I’m feeling a little under the weather tonight – probably just lacking a bit of sleep.” 
Lucifer scanned your face all over, his brows furrowed in worry. “Well…I guess you have been working harder for the hotel recently.” There had been some truth in that – after all, there had been an influx of sinners in the hotel since the cancellation of this year’s extermination. But he didn’t seem to stop there, not fully convinced by your reasoning, “...But are you sure that’s all, my dear?” 
You looked at him, surprised, as if suddenly caught red-handed. He was quick to pick up on that too, confirming his suspicions and making him all the more nervous.
 “What are you trying to say?” You ask. 
“Well, i-it’s just that I noticed that you’ve been acting a bit off recently,” he splutters. “And not only tonight. You’ve become a bit more…I don’t know, distant with me. And it worries me, y’know? I just…I really, really care about you. A lot.” He almost looks defeated as he rubs anxiously at his nape, “And if I’m being honest, it scares the absolute shit out of me that what I’m doing now isn't right."
Your brows crease in confusion, “...What are you talking about?” 
Lucifer closed his eyes, dragging a palm against his face as an exaggerated groan leaves his lips. “Look, I’m not exactly experienced with all…all this – the one woman I’ve ever been in a committed relationship with left me. Just like that!” He lets out a humourless snort. “A-And I don’t know what I did to make her leave and I for sure don’t want to make that same mistake again. I…I want to be assured that I’m making you happy.” 
Lucifer looks up at you, eyes filled with warmth, as he places a gentle hand against your cheek. He breaks the distance between you to press his forehead against yours. You automatically lean against him out of habit. “I don’t want to lose you. And if I’m doing something wrong, tell me. Please, don’t shut me out.” He pleads, his voice almost falling into a whisper. The unexpected confession left you speechless, your chest feeling all the more tight. It was making you feel worse than you already did. 
You let out a shaky sigh, trying to keep the pending tears at bay. “Luci, I’m sorry. I didn’t know…I-I didn’t mean to make you feel that way. Trust me when I say that you’ve been nothing more than a gentleman, and every moment we’ve spent together has been magical. I appreciate you so, so much, and I could never, ever ask for anything more.” 
You shut your eyes tight, shame filling your very core. “I’m just being a little silly–”
“No, no. Don’t say that, darling. Please tell me what’s going on. It’s okay,” Lucifer encourages softly, his thumb rubbing reassuringly against your cheek. 
You grab his wrist and gently pull your face away from him. With the hand on his arm, you slide it down to grab at his own, bringing it up into view and in-between the both of you. Almost instantaneously, both your eyes lie on the golden band on his finger – to Lucifer, it suddenly clicks. But he couldn’t help but feel an internal conflict brew within him. 
“I-I know how much that ring and Lilith means to you. I really do and I feel awful having to feel this way, but I just…I can’t help it,” you mutter, finally allowing the first couple of tears to fall, “I-I often find myself counting the days and hours when you’ll suddenly realise that I will never be good enough for you. It feels like I’m constantly having to compete with her–heck, what am I even saying? I know I’ll never be able to compete – because, I mean, come on. I'm a nobody!” You chuckle tearfully whilst gesturing to yourself with a free hand.
“And I don’t think I’ll ever understand how you’d ever settle for someone like me. I’m not nearly as important, nor am I the best-looking demon out there. I’m just me.”
“But Lucifer, whenever I’m with you, I’m the happiest I’ve ever been. I smile more. Laugh more. I even enjoy the little things more. And I don’t want that to go away. And I’m just hoping– Satan, I’m fucking hoping that it’s the same for you. And if it is, then how long is that going to last with me?” 
Completely shocked, Lucifer watched in silence as his love sobbed their heart out in front of him. He wanted nothing more than to go and wrap you in his warm embrace, and whisper reassurances and hush down your cries. Because, you were right – you did make him happy. So unbelievably happy. You had been the light that casted away the shadows in his darkest times. And yet, why? Why did he remain where he stood, unmoving as tears pathetically poured from his eyes? Why wasn’t he saying anything?
There was a brief, stagnant moment of contemplation where the both of you just stood there. It was the realisation that Lucifer didn’t make any effort to formulate some form of response, that disappointed you even further. It only made the doubtful voice in your head louder. 
It was you who ultimately decided to make the first move, wiping tiredly at your reddened face as you glanced at the hotel’s door. “I’ll be heading off first. I’ll be in the guest room tonight – it’s been a long day,” you raspily say, hiccuping as you pushed through the doors and disappeared into the hotel, leaving Lucifer alone outside. 
As you entered the hotel, you immediately noticed Husk’s presence by the bar, who had been polishing some glasses by the counter. In front of him was Angel, who was making some sweet, small talk with him. They were both alerted by your entrance as the doors flew open, and as Angel was about to greet you in his usual playful fashion, his voice fell flat when he saw the depressed state you were in. 
“Woah, there. What the hell happened to you? You look like shit,” Angel asked, standing to meet you half-way, “I thought you and Short-King were out on a date. Did something happen?” 
“We were but we had a fight or something,” you tiredly shrugged as you walked past the arachnid and plopped yourself down on one of the bar stools. You swirled yourself on the seat to face Husk. “Give me the strongest shit you have. And make it double,” you waved absently at the feline-demon, who raised an incredulous brow at your bluntness. “Damn, it must be that serious considering you don’t even drink,” he grumbles as he turns to start brewing a glass of something, “...do you wanna talk about it?"
You contemplated his offer for a second and realised that you did. For the next five or so minutes, you ended up recounting everything that happened earlier tonight, all the while shedding even more tears. Angel was kind enough to supply you with a mountain of tissues to cry into.
“Well, it sounds to me that your man’s got a whole lot of thinking to do,” Husk clicks his tongue. “But what you’re feeling is completely valid.” “Yeah, who the fuck wears their ol’ wedding ring while dating someone else? What an asshole,” Angel hisses. 
“S-So you guys think there’s a possibility that he might consider ending things with me?” You question dejectedly. Husk and Angel share a look of uncertainty, suddenly feeling the need to be careful of their words. Because they genuinely weren’t sure.
“I–Look, that’s not something we should be focusing on at the moment– I mean, of course, let’s hope that that’s not where this is going. I just think he needs some space to think things through properly,” Husk says. 
“And I know I was talking a whole lot of shit before but let’s take the benefit of the doubt and look at things from his point of view. He was in that boat for more than a couple thousand years. And shit, that’s a lot of fucking years.” Angel points out. “It might take him a while longer to adjust to that, y’know?” Angel places a hand on your shoulder, grinning at you reassuringly, “But there’s one thing for sure that myself and everyone else knows: the guy loves yah, toots. Anyone with eyes can see it, and you guys are really fucking disgusting about it too–ow!” 
Angel suddenly lunges forward against the counter as one of Husk’s wings swipes down to slap the back of his head. “‘The fuck was that for?! It’s true, ain’t it?!” Husk rolled his eyes at his dramatics, before turning back to you. “He’s right, though. Just…just give him a bit more time. I’m sure in the end, the both of you will be fine.” 
Meanwhile, Lucifer decided to head back to his own castle, wanting to be alone to sort through his cluttered thoughts. He was beyond upset with himself for making you cry like that, because it was the last thing he wanted. But he was more upset at the fact that he didn’t know how to navigate through his emotions, despising that he found himself second guessing his feelings. 
As you explicitly implied, was he really still unconsciously longing for Lilith? Was that why he kept wearing his ring? Why was he still wearing it? Was it just for his own comfort? But why would he need it anyways? You were there, weren’t you? All he had said to you tonight, he was contradicting himself, wasn’t he? Perhaps he’s scared. Maybe he isn’t ready yet. But, why would he be with you if he didn’t think so? What exactly were you to him? And what exactly was Lilith to him now?
Lucifer was a complete mess, and that night he couldn’t find a single blink of sleep as these thoughts plagued him. And neither could you, as you scrutinised every aspect of your relationship, thinking of what this could mean for the both of you, moving forward.
Yeah…perhaps you both needed some time. 
Chapter II [x]
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urkuna · 1 month
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# KUNA ₊˚⊹ ᰔ 𝜗𝜚 — confiding in his favorite concubine ( ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ഒ
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“Come here,” he grumbles, not bothering to explain himself.
Sukuna remains silent as you close the distance between you.
Rather than saying what is on his mind, though, he continues to stare ahead, his expression shifting ever-so-slightly to reflect a growing unease. He knows what he wants, but he's afraid to admit it, even to himself.
The king can't help but scowl as his mind drifts towards his other concubines.
None of them have the slightest idea how he really feels about them, and their constant harassment is nothing short of irritating.
Then there's you. He doesn't understand what it is that makes you different, but there's just something about the way you talks to him that's so... relaxing.
Sukuna remains silent, clenching his teeth even tighter as he continues to avoid eye contact.
He hates how dependent he's become upon you, how much you soothed his frayed nerves with your mere presence.
No other concubine can pacify his inner demons the way you do.
He hates that you can sense his discomfort just as much as he hates how much he enjoys it.
For the first time in his life, he feels vulnerable. He doesn't want to admit it, yet here he is.
The cursed king is visibly tense, one of his four hands gripping the blankets tightly in frustration.
"Sit," he speaks once more, his voice even softer than before as he forces himself to relax into the bed.
With you close to him, he can finally relax. You’re the only one in his domain who he can bear to be affectionate with, the only one he can tolerate having contact with.
He grips you gently with his hands, his sharp fingers lightly tracing over your smooth skin as he savors your presence in silence.
The curse king knows it’s wrong to grope you like this, how you’re always there to comfort him. You’ve never seen him as a sex object or a way to get fame and power like the other girls did.
"Shut up," he growls to himself, unable to contain his frustration any longer.
His hands are more intense now, his fingers sinking deeper into your warm, soft body as he squeezes harder.
"Don’t say a damn word about this," he insists. "I’m serious."
You whimper in his grasp, unaware of who or what he was rambling about. “Ryomen—?”
"I said shut up," he snaps, not realizing he spoke out loud.
His grip loosens only slightly as his hands move to your sides, gripping them tightly as he pulls you closer.
He continues to glare ahead, not making eye contact as he speaks. "Just... hold me.”
He doesn't say it out of desire for affection, but rather as a demand.
He doesn't want you to stop when you begin leaving soft touches and kisses to his tattooed body, but he is too anxious and self-conscious to admit it. Instead, he keeps his face buried against you, trembling slightly from the sensation of your warmth.
"Mm..."
Sukuna lets out a low grunt of pleasure as his shoulders relax, his tension slowly fading away.
He lets out a few more grunts of approval as your hands begin to play in his hair, letting his body sink further into your embrace as his eyes finally close with a small smile upon his lips.
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bunny-yan · 2 months
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so for the yandere king, will he ever get married to someone who isn’t reader?
He’ll hold it off for as long as he can, but don’t expect him not to take it out on you if he complains about it and you don’t give him the reaction he was expecting.  TW: mentions violence, domestic abuse, mentions somnophilia, power imbalance, minors DNI
You’d gotten your hopes up. 
It’d been such a long time since you felt anything like it, but with whispers around every corner speaking of the king’s possible marriage,  you couldn’t help but entertain thoughts of freedom, of a life without the tyrant you called a king. 
He had to produce an heir. It was an unavoidable duty his position demanded. The kingdom needed to be left with a future should anything unfortunate happen to their oh, so beloved king. 
Sometimes, you wished that his misfortune would happen by your hands. If only to give him a taste of what you had to endure, but you shoved such thoughts away. It was harder to keep your composure when you entertained ideas you’d never be allowed to act upon. Or if you tried would cause more harm than good.
Others looked smug as you passed them in the long hallways, claiming you’d be thrown away by the king as soon as he married, and you prayed to the goddess that they were right. That he’d marry someone he could love and obsess over. That his violent affection would be directed at someone else for a change. Did it make you cruel, wishing that someone else would take your place? A part of you lacked the ability to care. If they were so desperate to tear you down, not realizing the hell disguised as paradise, you would be more than willing to let them have a taste of it. 
The king’s marriage. 
When the two of you were younger, he promised to hold the grandest wedding the kingdom had ever seen. He’d spare no expense and it would be remembered as the happiest days of your lives. Remembered as the day of your union, the day you would promise to spend eternity together. You supposed that after killing all of your family members and gaining ownership of you, it didn’t really matter one way or the other how it happened, but you felt a small sense of relief that the monstrous event had been delayed.
The talk you had to endure was bad enough, but you could only imagine what the nobles would have to say if the King were to make your union official. You wouldn’t be the one who achieved every servant’s fairytale, no. You would be the peasant living above their station. The whore who sunk their claws into their sweet prince. The tramp who didn’t know their place.
You would dread every display of affection he would shower you with in public, knowing that despite his insistence of you remaining by his side, others too afraid to show their disdain in front of the King, there would undoubtedly be a moment where they would find you alone and without your shield you were vulnerable to their contempt.
But the idea of him living out that fantasy with another shifted something in you. You felt a slight upturn of your lips at the thought of him standing at the altar with a faceless figure as you packed what little things you truly owned and ran and ran and ran as far as your legs could carry you. The dull ache you’d become familiar with would burst, and you’d cry freely, laugh hysterically, and smile as if you had never forgotten how. That was what paradise sounded like. 
Doors slamming open, the strange emotions fled from your body, replaced with instant unease at the sight of the king’s furious face. 
You stood quickly to bow and greet the head of your kingdom. 
“Leave us,” he said. Two words dismissing everyone from your chambers, holding so much power you feared they didn’t know what monster they were abandoning you to face alone. As you’d always had. 
He sat on the plush couch with a heavy sigh, unbuttoning his shirt as he gave the order, “Pour me a drink.”
You didn’t hesitate to meet his demands. You got two glasses, knowing that he’d push you to join him, along with the liquor your Kingdom was famous for and he favored on particularly stressful days. Setting them down on the table, you tried to ignore the set eyes watching you as you filled one glass and left the other, hoping that he wouldn’t notice or at least be too preoccupied to comment on your lack of a desire to drink at this hour. 
He said nothing. 
You picked up the glass, careful not to spill it as you handed it to your king. He took it from your hands, but his other snatched your wrist as you retreated back, making you tense. The king threw the full glass back as if you poured a shot before slamming the glass on the table. He wiped the dribble of alcohol that escaped from his lips as he pulled you to sit on his lap. 
This was dangerous. He was sober now, but you weren’t sure how long that would last after drinking enough to keep him wasted for the rest of the day. How long would it take to kick in? You’d pour him the cup, believing he’d sip it as usual while entangling you in a verbal joust. He would ask impossibly complex questions disguised as basic pleasantries, and you would struggle to find the right thing to say. Because there was always a right thing to say. Something he wanted to hear to stroke the fragile ego drowning in his fear. You had waves of carefully hidden bruises as proof. 
“Pour me another,” he demanded, the harsh tone making your hair stand on end. He really must’ve heard something he didn’t like. 
“My King,” you began, timidly, as you turned to face him. It wouldn’t bode well for you if he was too drunk to remember what he had done the next day. His memory was truth, and if he didn’t remember putting his hands on you, if he didn’t remember the violence he wrought night after night, it didn’t happen. “May I pour you some water instead?”
The hand on your waist was stroking your side casually. His motions didn’t falter. 
Hopefully, he didn’t take offense. 
You were clear on your station. You were to serve his every whim and desire. An outright refusal wasn’t wise. Resting a hand on his arm, you knew to keep your gaze down. Keeping contact, unchallenging, all things he preferred in moments like these. 
“How considerate,” he said, your body sagging in relief at the concession. 
You were almost too eager to pull away from his grip, but he let you go without a word, watching you retrieve the pitcher and another glass before you came to pour him a glass. 
You handed it to him and much like before, you were pulled into his lap as he sipped on the small offering you were grateful he accepted. You were afraid to hope that his temperament would be manageable.
Before you learned of the engagement, you wondered if you’d unintentionally done something to make Idris angry. 
It was little things at first. 
Snapping at you for getting up from dinner without his express permission, grabbing you harshly if you pulled away from any form of affection he so generously offered. When he’d wake you up, it was usually in the form of violent affections, his touch lacking any tenderness or care that he often liked to pretend still existed between the two of you. 
He only realized that he was treating you differently when you found the courage to ask him if you’d done something to gain his ire. You couldn’t think of anything you may have done to make him upset. It’d been a while since your last escape attempt. Knowing there was nothing and no one waiting outside of the palace for you, you didn’t really have a desire to escape. Better to remain with the person who’d travel to the ends of the earth to trap you by their side, right? 
Regardless, he looked surprised by your question and you discovered he didn’t even realize how harshly he’d been treating you. Projecting his anger on you because you reminded him of the Duke’s daughter and how their intended engagement would ruin everything he planned to build with you. 
“I assume you’ve heard by now,” he said carefully, the glass of water resting on his lips as he watched you. 
You didn’t know whether to play dumb or openly admit you learned of his vassal’s plan to marry him to someone with a legitimate background. He was obviously unhappy about it, so if you mentioned that you had learned, he might shift the conversation to ask instead why you remained silent. To ask about your feelings on the matter and when you didn’t show the same amount of disdain, he’d mistake your feelings for what they were. 
Hope. 
A newfound hope that you had found a way to escape from underneath his grip, even if it was temporary. You could only imagine the anger he’d display then. 
If you pretended you didn’t know what he was talking about, he’d give a knowing smile as he narrowed his eyes. Calling you his clueless lover, the hand at your waist would squeeze into your side, his fingernails threatening to pierce your skin as he buried his head in your neck. Harsh laughter would brush across your skin and your body would be so tense, waiting for the moment that skin would be met with teeth. Met with pain. 
Thankfully, you didn’t have to say anything. He always did love hearing himself speak. 
“Have you seen the Duke at the balls I’ve hosted? He’s hoping to gain an alliance with the imperial family by forcing me to marry his daughter in exchange for his backing and the steel his family mines in order to make weapons.”
His fingers drummed against your side as he took a sip of his water. 
You felt inclined to say something to break this silence, to give a show of how upset or angry or disappointed or sad or whatever the hell you were supposed to be feeling so he felt as if you were torn up about this situation and not hoping the Duke would move faster with the marriage arrangements. 
“How arrogant,” you said simply. 
He smiled, setting down his glass as he wrapped his arms around your waist. “Those were my thoughts exactly. I managed to push it off, but I can’t see the Duke giving up any time soon.” He sighed, leaning into your touch when you began to scratch the back of his neck. You were listening. You cared about what he was saying. You sympathized with his plight and offered the reprieve you could. To say you could do more was putting it lightly, but you would get away with doing the bare minimum for as long as you could. 
“It makes me think of how unfair this is to you.”
You wanted to laugh. 
Unfair was forcing you into the position of his concubine in the first place. Unfair was ignoring your consistent refusals and forcing you to remain by his side. Unfair was the treatment you endured in the position you never asked to be in, the abuse you suffered, the constant torment you faced, the aching loneliness at being able to talk honestly with no one, the grief at the loss of your family—unfair was putting it lightly. 
It was hard to hear coming from the culprit. 
“It got me thinking that if I’m eventually forced to go through with this wedding despite my lack of enthusiasm, why not have a wedding I’d enjoy first?”
Dread pinched your stomach. 
“Do you remember the promise we made when we were younger?”
No.
No, no, no, no, no. 
Not another shackle. Yet another excuse to be stuck in this place with no way out. 
“Your Highness-”
“I promised you that we’d have the grandest wedding the kingdom had ever seen. That you would walk upon a path of flowers that would lead you to my side, and one of the knights can walk you down the aisle since-.”
You felt nauseous. 
“Anyways, I think I’ve been putting it off for too long and it’s the perfect event to put my vassals in their place.” 
This couldn’t be happening. You shook your head, not wanting to imagine what life would be like after you became… what? What did he intend on calling you if you were no longer his concubine? What did it matter if your treatment would remain spiteful regardless of how many escorts he replaced by your side. Any hope you had about escaping would be snatched away and your every move would be reported back to the King. You supposed he didn’t botherbefore because there really was nowhere for you to go where people didn’t know who you were, but with this new title, this new position, he would shorten your leash to show just how much of a loving couple the two of you were. 
“What’s wrong, my love?” he asked, a warning in his voice. “You don’t look happy.”
“No,” you said, swallowing the lump in your throat. It brought tears to your eyes when the impediment remained, threatening to choke you as you struggled to hold them back. “I’m overjoyed.” you said, burying your head in his shoulder so he couldn’t see that these weren’t happy tears. That you weren’t crying at what you would gain from marrying the King, the most sought after “bachelor” in your kingdom. You were crying at everything that you would lose, that would continue to be taken away from you. Demanded of you. Your peace, your love, happiness, and the joy you were so desperate to convince him you felt in this moment. 
Not that he really cared in the first place. 
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sunderwight · 5 months
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With moshang I think I'm equally fond of the possibilities/concepts where either Shang Qinghua is ludicrously attractive to demons in a broad sense (but doesn't realize it), or, where Shang Qinghua is just some weird little gremlin and everyone else cannot wrap their head around why THE Mobei Jun is so smug about seducing this man.
Or a combination, where no demon in their right mind would ordinarily look at Shang Qinghua and perceive a sex icon, but because such a high-ranking demon has clearly done so, they go "well there must be SOMETHING going on there" and then look closer and before they know it they're on the slippery slope to being horny about a guy who could help file their taxes or arrange to have their clan base's faulty plumbing fixed.
Basically it's all good. Demons en mass going "yeah yeah big scary dudes who punch good are a dime a fucking dozen around here, but do you know how hot someone who can skillfully use an abacus is?" vs demons going "the ice king is a respectable ruler but he has garbage taste in men, we all just smile and politely nod while he insists the weird rat guy he fixated on as a teenager is a catch" vs demons going "I really don't see the appeal -- wait he did what? he killed how many guys at once with 1 trick? he betrayed WHOMST? and lived?! and he knows how to get my door to stop making horrible squeaky noises?! okay yeah figures the king would marry him" but every option is a winner.
I'm also a big fan of both Shen Qingqiu and Shang Qinghua being not very attractive to demons in general, but it also being really common for demons to get super weird about first crushes and fixate hard on them, so in that sense they are completely normal choices for a couple of high-level demons to marry. Like the demon populace can appreciate the emperor actually landing his hot teacher and the king successfully marrying his teenage sweetheart. It's an idealized fantasy in terms of the scenarios, even if the actual guys are just weird humans. Nearly every average demon has lifelong daydreams about successfully seducing their first crush, so regardless of who those crushes turned out to be it's still a power move for LBH and MBJ to actually succeed.
Bonus if the fact that both SQQ and SQH are peak lords from the same sect leads to a bunch of demon kids developing crushes on the other remaining, unattached peak lords, and chaos ensuing. Especially for Liu Qingge. I think it would be funny for him to gain a flock of teenage demons with crushes, whom he keeps trying to fight off, only to discover that beating them up does NOT discourage them at all (actually makes the crushes worse). Or Yue Qingyuan getting mobbed like he's a pop star any time he makes a diplomatic visit to the demon realms. Sha Hualing deciding that she's just waiting for Liu Mingyan to become a peak lord before they make things official, since That's Obviously How It's Done, or Qi Qingqi doing a head count one day and realizing she suddenly has a bunch of unfamiliar "guest" disciples who sigh at her a lot and have funny-colored eyes...
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syddsatyrn · 3 months
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Omg your requests are open. I've seen some of your work and it's amazing❤️
Can you do a smut with Lucifer. He's become my new obsession.
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⛧Idle Time is the Devil's Play⛧ By Sydd Satyrn
⛧Pairing: - Lucifer Morningstar x Reader
⛧Warnings: Shameless smut, fingering, swearing, fluff
⛧Words: 2.5k
⛧Notes: This was actually rather fun to write, thank you for the request! My head canon in this one is that Lucifer wears reading glasses.
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The day started out on the wrong foot from the second you woke up. The dishes are piled up, laundry needs to be done, and how is there so much dust in here?! Nifty does her best to keep up but she's only one tiny person. You begin with the dishes, stack and stacks of plates and bowls, cups and flatware cover the counter. You let out a sigh of disappointment. After working for a short while, Angel Dust walks in with a surprised look on his face. “I thought you were dating the King of Hell, why are you wasting your time with chores?” The tall spider asks, holding a stack of dishes from his room. “Angel, I work here. I don't know how many times I have to tell you…” You reply with an eye roll. “Yeah, yeah, Charlie’s dreams, blah, blah, motherly nonsense. I’m just sayin’ you could totally slack off and get away with it.” He says, placing more dishes on the counter. You give him a side eye, and Angel laughs. “Chill out toots, I’m just playin’.” He says and heads back to his room. He’s right, you could slack off if you wanted to, but you felt the need to try for Charlie. You and Lucifer have been dating for a little over 6 months and within that time you’ve become rather fond of his sweet daughter and her dreams to rehabilitate sinners. So you took on a role at the hotel and did what you could to help make it possible. You wanted to impress Lucifer's daughter, maybe one day she might even see you as family, if you’re lucky.  You finally finish the dishes and take a step back and admire your handiwork. A clean sink, and counters, all the dirty dishes are now washed, dried and put away. It took a good chunk of the morning but it was worth it. The kitchen looks spotless and you decide to move onto the next chore. You tidied a few empty rooms and then delivered clean towels to each room with an occupant. You’re already running out of energy and it's only noon. “You look like you could use some coffee.” Husk says from behind the bar while wiping down the countertops. “You read my mind, Husker.” You say and take a seat at the bar. He pours you a cup of black coffee and sets it in front of you. “Thank you, you have no idea how much I need this.” “Don’t mention it” He says and returns to his countertops. Husk may seem grumpy all the time but you’ve come to know him as a rather genuine and helpful person.
You drink your coffee slowly and contemplate what you should do next. There are so many chores that need to be done, where should you even start? Nifty should be cleaning the bathrooms or taking out the trash by now. You decide to start dusting next, it shouldn't be too hard. 
After dusting the common areas, you begin on the hallways. You start at the top floor and work your way down. You hum quietly to yourself while wiping the window sills. As you turn a corner, you run into Angel Dust, and spill dusting spray all over his jacket. “Shit!” He says while wiping his jacked off with his hand, Angel looks frantic and upset, you’ve never seen him so scared. “I’m so sorry! Are you okay?!” You immediately apologize. “Y/N, I can't find Fat Nuggets anywhere! I took my eyes off of him for one second and he disappeared! My poor baby!” Angel says, clearly in a state. He looks like he might even cry. It’s gonna be okay, we just…need to split up! I’ll head downstairs and you stay up here.”You say, trying to remain calm. Angel nods, and you both go your separate ways.
You search all the rooms on the first and second floor, the lobby, the bar, and even the basement. There is no sign of the little pig. You were sure you would find him rooting around somewhere in the kitchen but still, no Fat Nuggets. You notice the back door is slightly ajar, you definitely didn’t use that door when you were down here earlier. You open it, expecting to have solved the mystery, but still nothing. You lean against the wall and let out a defeated sigh. “Dammit, Fat Nuggets, where are you?” You say out loud. Suddenly there is a rustlin noise inside a tipped over trash can. You lift the lid and inside is a very happy looking little pig. You scoop him up and give him a big hug, he must have gottens stuck out there looking for a snack. As you carry Fat Nuggets upstairs you hear a shriek of joy coming from Angel Dust. “My baby!” He cries as you hand him over. “Don't you ever leave my side again!” He says, baby talking to the little pig while giving him a snuggle. “I owe you one, Y/N.” Angel says with a smile. “Dont worry about it, I’m just happy we found the little guy.” You gently boop the little pig’s nose. —------------ As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting hues of pink and orange across the sky, a sense of tranquility settled over the hotel. The warm glow of the fading sunlight painted the walls in soft, golden hues made the place feel somewhat serene. Finding Fat Nuggets took up the rest of your afternoon and you were feeling unusually exhausted. 
 You head down to the lobby and see Nifty cleaning up the last of the dusting you did earlier.
She greets you as usual. “Good Evening, Miss Y/N! How was your day?” She pauses her cleaning and stares up at you with her single cyclops eye. “I am so worn out, Nifty. How are you?” You return, smiling down at her tiny figure.
“I’m okay. There aren't as many bugs in the hotel to squish anymore so I’m getting pretty bored.” You smile at her, Not entirely sure how to respond to that statement. She always says the wildest stuff, but you’re used to it. Alastor says she's always been pretty quirky. “You should go spend time with your boyfriend.” Nifty teases,”I’ll deal with the rest of the chores.” “Thank you, I could really use a break. Today was a mess.” You say with a sigh of relief. After walking down the long, lavish hallway to Lucifer's room. You open the door slowly, you don't want to wake him if he is asleep. The King is already in bed wearing nothing but a robe and his reading glasses. The lamp next on the bedside table is the only source of light in the room. The blonde haired man is reading a book and glances over at you when he hears you come in. “I was wondering when you’d be here.” He says with a smile on his face. He closes his book and sets it on the nightstand along with his gold rimmed glasses. “Sorry I’m late, I’ve had a really long day.” You admit as you sit on the edge of the bed. “Oh? What did you get up to today?” He asks and crawls toward you. “There was a lot to do around the hotel today, a mountain of dishes and so much cleaning. Like seriously, where does all this dust come from?! Then Angel lost Fat Nuggets and he was outside…” You ramble on and Lucifer listens intently. “Fat Nuggets?” Lucifer chuckles and cocks his head to the side. “His pet pig.” You remind him. “Oh, I see…” Lucifer places his hand on your cheek. His warm touch sends shivers down your spine. He pulls your face closer and kisses your lips gently. Your heart flutters and you kiss him back, blushing slightly.
“Well, I’m glad you’re here now.” Lucifer laughs, knowing exactly what he's doing to you. “Sounds like you need some time off. I notice you do a lot around here, you shouldn’t wear yourself out like that.” “I just want to show Charlie that I support her dream and believe in her.” Your words make Lucifer’s heart swell, the fact that you are trying so hard to impress his daughter is quite possibly the cutest thing he’s ever seen. He smiles at you, his expression full of love and admiration. You return his smile, your face bright red. He pulls you in for a tight hug, burying his face into your hair. “You’re doing just fine, my love. You can let up a little.” He whispers in your ear, “You should let me take care of you for a couple days.” Lucifer's voice is sticky sweet, you can see why Eve was so easily swayed. You melt into his arms and he kisses the top of your head. “I know exactly what you need…” Lucifer days, his voice laced with a mischievous tone. “Do you…?” You ask and giggle at his bold statement. He reluctantly lets go of you and takes off to the bathroom connected to his room. You can hear him turn on the faucet to fill up the tub. Lucifer walks out of the bathroom a few minutes later, he grabs your hand and pulls you close, his eyes half lidded. He kisses your cheek and wraps his arm around your shoulder. “Come with me, my dear.” He leads you to the bathroom, the tub is filled about half way with warm water. The room is filling with steam and the lights are low, a few candles are lit. The ambiance is warm and charming just like he is. Your eyes widen and you feel Lucifer hands tug at your clothes, silently telling you to take them off. Your face feels hot as you start to remove your clothing, piece by piece. You leave them in a pile on the floor, trying your best to keep your composure. “I have to admit I wasn’t expecting this…” You say, Lucifer smirks, pleased with himself and your reactions. He removes his robe, revealing his perfect body. He steps into the tub and turns to you.
"Well, are you coming or not?" He teases, you take his hand and slowly get in the tub with him. He sits behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you just a bit closer. Together, you both leaned back against the edge of the tub, letting the warmth of the water soothe your weary muscles. The stress of the day melted away, you could feel your muscles relax, you lean the back of your head on his shoulder, breathing him in.
"See? Isn't this much better?" Lucifer purrs in your ear.  
You nod and let your eyes close. You can feel him kiss your temple and you can't help but smile. “I definitely needed this…”You murmured, Lucifer's hands begin to roam your body, his hands trace down your arms. 
"You have the most beautiful skin...I can't help but touch it." He whispers and kisses your neck, you sigh softly. "And you always smell like vanilla, I adore that..."
“You flatter me, Lucifer.” You reply. He kisses the back of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. His hands begin to massage your shoulders, "Are you cold?" He asks, noticing the goosebumps forming on your skin. With gentle hands, his fingertips traced delicate patterns along the contours of your skin. In the hushed ambiance, time seemed to slow, as if caught in the embrace of the moment. “No, I’m fine.” You assure him.” You’re just really good with your hands.” “Is that so?” Lucifer says with a playful tone. He can barely contain himself, the way your body responds to his touch is fascinating to him. Lucifer's hands travel lower down your torso and gently cup your breasts. You hum softly and push your body closer to his.
"My, you're a needy one tonight, aren't you?" He chuckles and runs his thumbs over your nipples. "I think I know exactly how to help you." His hands travel lower and lower until they reach your core. Your breath hitches and your face turns a bright shade of red and Lucifer notices. "Is that okay, my love?" He asks, making sure he's not overstepping his bounds.
"Y-yes, it's more than okay.”
Lucifer's fingers explore your folds, teasing and prodding. His movements are slow and deliberate, as if he's trying to memorize every inch of your body. You gasp as he enters a finger into you. You moan softly and your back slightly arches. "That's it, my love, just let go, let me take care of you." The King’s tone is lustful and alluring. Lucifer adds a second finger and starts thrusting in and out, his thumb rubs your clit. He moves his fingers faster and harder. “Luci…fuck…” You swear followed by another moan, the pleasure is overwhelming. You can feel him smile against your skin, his hand working wonders between your thighs. You bite your lip and whimper, gripping the edge of the tub. Lucifer bites the tip of your ear and quickens his pace. “That’s it my dear, are you gonna cum for me?” Lucifer groans and pushes his fingers deeper inside you. You let out a whimper, a feeling of warmth growing deep within your core. Between the steam from the bathtub and all the stimulation you start to feel a little dizzy. Lucifer groans and buries his face into the crook of your neck. He focuses back on your clit, his middle finger massaging little circles, picking up speed with each second that passes. You can't stop the moans from escaping your mouth, the pleasure is too much. You can't hold back any longer and your body is rocked with wave after wave of pleasure. Lucifer's fingers move slower, helping you ride out the waves of your orgasm. Your chest rises and falls rapidly, your face is bright red. Lucifer pulls his fingers out and wraps his arms around you, hugging you tight.
"Are you alright?" He asks, kissing your neck. You nod and completely relax into Lucifer's body. You lay in the bathtub together, his fingers caress your arm, he presses another kiss to your temple.
"I think it's time you got some rest." He says, barely above a whisper. You both get out of the tub and Lucifer wraps a towel around you.
"You're absolutely perfect." He says with a grin and kisses your nose. You smile at him, continue to dry off and wrap your hair in a towel. Lucifer loans you a pair of his silk pajamas, they are just slightly too big for you. But all that does is add to how comfortable they are. You lay in bed next to him, the covers pulled over your shoulders. He pulls you close and runs his fingers through your hair.
"So, tomorrow you will do no chores, no errands, just relax and take it easy.” He says, with a slightly demanding tone. You lay your head down on his bare chest and he picks up his book. “Yes sir…no chores…” You murmured against his skin. “He chuckles, "Good girl. That's what I like to hear.” He praises while putting his glasses back on. You're exhausted from the day and can barely keep your eyes open. Before long, you fall asleep in the arms of your love, ready for a trouble free day tomorrow. 
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pollyanna-nana · 2 months
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Imagine you’re Delgal. Imagine you were raised from birth alongside the court jester. You do everything together. You look up to him, being so much older. He seems wise and responsible, and always encouraging you and caring for you, more than your own busy parents are able to. In every sense of the word, he is your brother, despite how different you look and the distance of your station. The people around you tell you that he is an elf, the tone of their voice implying that’s something scary or even dangerous. But you disagree. That’s Thistle, your big brother.
But… as you age, things become confusing. You get taller, smarter, stronger, and Thistle is there for you through it all. Only… he never seems to change. In your entire journey to adulthood, he hardly seems to have aged a few years, if that. It’s amusing when you first grow taller than him, then grow facial hair, while Thistle’s short stature and youthful face remains the same. Still, you love him, love his music and his wit and even the bold-faced honesty that gets him in trouble if you’re not around to diffuse the situation. You wonder why such a person has been relegated to the inglorious job of jester, and your father tells you very simply that the magic elves wield is too powerful and dangerous to belong to any other position. But you think that’s nonsense, you’ve trusted Thistle from the day you were born and would do so until the day you die.
It isn’t until what should’ve been the happiest day of your life that you truly start to understand just how different Thistle is from you. Kneeling over your father’s cooling corpse, you take in the elf’s panicked face. He’s so young, so unchanged, and in that moment he seems nearly immortal to you. You’ve heard the stories of elf magic, how their spells could be used to heal wounds and raise the dead, but Thistle can’t do any of that. He hasn’t been allowed to. There’s nothing that either of you can do but watch your father slowly die in front of you.
You never want this to happen again, not when there’s something that can stop it. You make Thistle the court sorcerer, even as your advisors warn against it. But you’re the king, goddamn it, and you trust him. But more than that, you want what he can give to you. A power greater than any tallman could achieve. You become busier and busier, only checking up occasionally on his studies. He’s become incredibly proficient in a short amount of time, but your thoughts are elsewhere. Enemies knock on your door, famine chokes the population, and worst of all your beloved son has fallen ill. It’s just like the day of your wedding, but this time, you have something that can defy that fate. Thistle.
But still, it’s not enough. It seems that even elf magic has its limits, and you can’t help but become angry with him. He reacts like a scorned child— is a scorned child, as you’ve come to realize— and you apologize. But he tells you he has something secret to show you, something he’s been searching for, researching for these past few years. The idea unsettles you, but you’ve become desperate, and you can see that he has, too. So you follow him into the dungeon, watch him smash the statue of your kingdom’s guardian and pull the book from the rubble that would decide your and your people’s fate.
Your son is healed, your enemies repelled, and your people fed and taken care of. You’re happy, and so Thistle is, too. You recognize, vaguely, that despite this achievement the familial bonds between the two of you have never been thinner. But you don’t dwell on it. He did what you needed him to do, and now you no longer had to fear the indignity of death or strife.
But of course, things do not remain sweet forever. Thistle has only grown more attached to you, more loyal, and his behavior has become erratic and strange. He keeps you all cooped up in the dungeon, insisting that the outside world is too dangerous. There’s a hardness to his still-youthful features that you never saw throughout all those years growing up alongside him. Slowly but surely the person in your memory is replaced by something frightening, almost repulsive, after he strips your own son’s soul from his body. He seems so unaffected by it all, so… inhuman.
Eventually he decides to give you what you said you wanted all those years ago: to no longer fear death. To become immortal. But it is not what you had hoped for— every day seems to drag into infinity, with joy and mirth seeping rapidly from the unsettled townsfolk as decades, then centuries pass. Thistle has become entirely unapproachable, spending all his time fortifying the dungeon and watching obsessively for any signs of traitors that might challenge the throne. You feel hopeless in it all. No matter how you beg, he never seems to hear you. His power is overwhelming and you fear how he might react to more direct commands. The guilt is intense… you know you pushed him into this, pushed him to find a way to achieve everlasting peace at any cost. But this cost is too much. How could he not see that?
1000 years. 1000 years of this torture, and the population of your kingdom has dwindled to almost nothing. In your dreams you see the vision of a golden lion in chains, its wings pinned as it pleads with you to save it. To save your kingdom, to put the remaining souls to rest. You know what needs to be done, it’s told you the best way. You tell the mad mage that you wish to have dinner together with the whole ‘family’— just like the olden days— and the way his face lights up is almost enough to make you reconsider. Almost.
It was a lie, of course. While he’s distracted you take your son’s empty body, making your way to the surface as fast as your legs can carry you. You know what’s about to happen. You’ll become nothing but dust, but you’ll be free. And with any luck, soon everyone else will be, too. Breaching the surface you get the first rays of sun on your face in a millennium, take your last breaths of fresh air as you tell the story that will free your kingdom.
As you crumble away to nothing, a last thought enters your mind. Perhaps they were all right. Perhaps it was a mistake to trust an elf.
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dcxdpdabbles · 4 months
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DCxDP: Professional Protector of Love
Danny Fenton moves to Gotham to start a second branch of Fenton Works. At least on paper, in reality, he is there to try and fulfill his obsession now that Amity Park has become too peaceful once he was officially crowned king.
His parents had been overjoyed he wanted to help the family business grow. They had been super supportive the day Danny revealed he was a halfa to them.
His dad even sat him down to apologize for all the hateful things he said about Danny through the years. His mom had been a little less vocal emotionally but she had also given him a deeply severe apology.
When they learned that Danny had been the one to save the town over and over again from invading ghosts, Jack jumped for joy that his son was a ghost hunter and a darn good one at that. They joined Team Phantom, keeping the world safe, and helped Danny hide his hero activities.
It really felt like Danny was part of the family business. It was a blast, even though they remained the town quacks for the first time Danny didn't mind. His parents knew he was a Halfa and they loved him anyway. That's all he needed.
When Clockwork came knocking when he was sixteen to explain that ghosts had chosen to follow the rules of conquest thus Danny was next in line for the throne, to be crowned at twenty, the Fenton's celebrated like Danny had been selected to the best Ivy schools. It meant a lot since realistically Danny didn't think he was getting anywhere with his grades.
His grades were terrible but Jazz helped him get his high school diploma by the skin of his teeth, and he was content with it. Once he graduated high school Danny felt adrift.
Amity Park hadn't been attacked in years due to him being announced as heir of the throne and no ghost would disrespect him by attacking his haunt. It was poor manners to attack the King. Ghost cared a lot about etiquette. Many of them existed because of etiquette.
The thing is Danny's ghost's existence depends on his obsession with Protection so when the ghost stops giving him something to protect Danny falls into his sub-obsession: love.
Sub-obsessions were like a secondary focus for ghosts. It was something that could grab their attention and even help them keep form but not as strongly as their main. It had its cons and pros like most things in life.
For one it wasn't as straightforward as the main obsessions. Protecting someone weaker in any situation was easier to physically do than trying to explain love and get it to appear in life. There are multiple versions of love, which makes things a little better, but Danny still has to depend on others for that to fuel him.
Danny likes to think of main and secondary obsessions in terms of running and jogging. Both got you to where you needed to go. One was just faster, and much more draining to do in the long run. The other took patience and tenacity but was rewarding over time.
The other notable characteristic of sub-obsessions was that they only appeared to ghosts who had an elemental core. Most had their common core- a core portraying to how a ghost came to be, either by death or being born in the Zone.
Danny was a rare few that had an ice core form around his common core. Most elemental ghosts were considered nobility in the zone and their rare appearance granted them special privileges.
One such privilege was attending high-class galas in the zone where he dined with the most important of beings. This was before he even knew he was going to be Ghost King.
It was at one of these Galas that he met Cupid- yes that Cupid- the ghost of love happily explained his Sub-Obession after his own core recognized a kinder spirit. Cupid said that if Danny could not be part of the love he could help others find the different ways love worked and that would help hold him over.
It was a challenge but Danny figured he could use the Greek words of love to help him satisfy his obsession.
He found that if he let his core guide him, the answer to any form of love issue would appear to him. Like his ghost breath activating, it was his sight of people who glow in different colors, telling him what type of love they were currently feeling.
Eros: romantic, passionate love colored red.
Philia: intimate, authentic friendship colored yellow
Storge: unconditional, familial love colored green
Philautia: compassionate self-love colored blue
 Agápe: empathetic, universal love colored white.
Danny wanted to keep his secret identity as Phantom under wraps openly told being he could see "auras" that explain what to do.
Some called him crazy like his parents, but that changed the day after Danny spotted the soft red mixed with a chipper yellow glow around Dash and Kwan. He had pulled both individually to the side to talk about it- Kwan had been less hostile than Dash on his meddling- and only after successfully making them confess and start dating did people notice.
He became known around Casper High as the go-to person whenever they needed advice in any relationship. He even helped Sam finally connect with her parents.
Danny had a gift for it- and whenever he made them feel more love of any kind the more powerful did he feel. It was the same rush as rescuing someone but darn if it didn't have a kick to it. And everyone in Amity Park starts tripping over themselves to talk to him and hear his opinion on the issue.
Sam jokingly told him to start charging people. Tucker took the joke as gospel and created him an email and an online store. He had linked Danny's store to Fenton Works- since the business license was so open-ended- and Danny Fenton, Professional Protector of Love worked under Fenton Works before they finished their junior year.
Danny adored working as a protector of love, but his main obsession needed fulfillment so Jazz suggested a move. Take his love work to the most dangerous city in the county. Protect people by night as Phantom and by day give the downdraught citizens some help in bettering their relationships.
His parents helped him pick out a store with an apartment on the top floor, Tucker as both tech support and a clerk for his small store section of Love Charms, while Sam joined up as a receptionist.
His two best friends were going to be his roommates while they studied at Gothum U for their degrees. He would pay them but until he had a solid client base it wouldn't be a lot.
Both seemed fine with the arrangement since Danny was letting them live rent-free with their own rooms.
Jazz and his parents remained in Amity Park but they swore to visit whenever they could.
It took seven months of work but the store was ready- he styled it to look like ancient Greek Cupid-inspired decore. He also had to get all the legal work out of the way and get familiar with the city before he tried to depute as Phantom.
He figured that for now he could stick to protecting humans from ghosts, vengeful spirits, and the busload of curses that cluttered Gotham. Danny would leave human crime to the Bats while he settled. He would step in if he happened upon a situation but he wouldn't go out of his way to find it.
"Danny, do you need anything for the aura reading?" Sam asks typing away at her desk computer. She took her job seriously. Tucker was typing away on his personal laptop, likely working on some homework. "The first customer is already in the consultation room."
Danny adjusted his pure white suit with small colored lines. He had it specially made to have all the colors he saw in love as his uniform. He wanted to give off the Prince vibe of his ghost status.
"I'm good!" He calls back to her, walking down the soundproof room- to give his clients the privacy they deserve- and giving his best professional smile at the boy sitting on the plush couches inside. He designed the room to look like a Greek palace and he hopes the others appreciate.
"Hello, Mr. Wayne. I hear you need professional help with protecting the various types loves in your life?"
"Tsk." Damian Wayne, in all his twelve-year-old glory, raises his chin. "I am capable of protecting them just fine. I merely... need further information on how to show my fondness is all."
Damian glowed green- which meant he needed help connecting to his family or at the very least learning how to talk to them. Danny's smile widens. "You came to the right place for that. Let's start the ready yeah?"
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levshany · 7 months
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Tandem, this is an AU in which the Collector possesses Philip, and there are a lot of things happening afterwards. but now we’ll just retell how it basically started
@angstyhikka drew a couple of arts and helped me with coloring
This is an alternative development of events after the ending of the fanfic “At The Dawn of The Light” (it's not finished yet, but there is already an AU from the ending, yes). The idea belongs to @lasymit, and I (Lev) picked it up :3
Before King's Tide, all events take place according to canon. And then the following changes occur: the witches capture Philip and lock him in a cave in the Titan's skull. The draining spell is stopped without the help of the Collector, but he himself is not found. His mirror remains lying at the bottom of the pit.
For 10 years, Philip was under a sleeping spell. Everything would be fine, but when the Hexside squad wakes up Philip to make him help them with one super important problem, not only does he become mischievous but he also has problems in his head now. Luz and the team think that Philip is manipulating them (you can't blame them for this, Philip is Philip, even with a leaky memory and a leaking roof, he manages to be such an asshole), and therefore they torture him to force him to cooperate with them.
While Philip was sleeping, a cozy corner appeared in his head, in which there was nothing but a green hill, a small house and an apple tree. There, Philip, in his child form, lives with Caleb, who is a figment of his sick mind. During his 10 years in this mindscape, Philip convinced himself that this was reality. And the Boiling Isles, the cave and the witches who torture him are an endless nightmare. Because, on the Boiling Isles, he sometimes remembers that he killed his brother. But this simply cannot be reality.
At some point, Luz and Hunter realize that Philip is not pretending that he is seriously ill and no matter how much he denies it, he needs help, and they soften towards him somewhat. Although both have rather mixed feelings towards their dementia grandpa.
Even in the moments when Philip remembers himself fully enough, his attitude towards the Boiling Isles, Luz, Hunter and even his own mission has changed greatly in any case. He no longer cares about the destruction of witches and revenge for his brother. Philip is tired. Deadly tired. All he wants to do is sleep. He slept for ten years, and this was perhaps the first time in decades of his life that he felt peace and happiness.
While he is in this state, it happens that he encounter the Collector. This is a difficult meeting for both of them, but it all ends with the forgiveness of all grievances. They both don't want to lose each other now. The collector is still locked in the disk, but Philip has the opportunity to let his friend into his subconscious. Seeing the deplorable state of Philip's mind, he decides that he must help - after all, Philip is still his only friend. Collie asks Philip not to go to "sleep" forever, but Philip replies that he has no joy in waking up here. All he dreams of is never returning to the world of the Boiling Islands. The collector, frightened that his only friend is about to leave him, possesses Philip and promises him that he will get them both out of this nightmare.
This is how Tandem's story begins
a huge amount of detail has been omitted to avoid spoilers for "The Dawn". if you wanna learn more go check the fanfic *wink wink*
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gingersnap-17 · 8 months
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Unexpected (Sukuna x Female Reader)
Hello everyone! Okay, I know that Sukuna literally reigned terror over practically everyone when he was a human in his human form. BUT, I feel like he is just a softie towards his lover and child. So that is pretty much what I wrote today! I also tried to find the artist to give them credit for the cover art, but I couldn't' find anything. Full credit goes to the artist of course! I hope you enjoy!
Synopsis: After being Sukuna's preffered concubine for almost a year now, Y/N starts to notice some changes going on with her body. She knew what this meant, and knew she had to tell Sukuna about what is going on.
Word Count: 2052
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In the dark and twisted world where sorcerers and curses roamed, Y/N found herself in a peculiar and perilous situation. She was a concubine, living a life of luxury within the grand, ominous palace of Ryomen Sukuna, the king of curses. Sukuna was feared and loathed by all who knew of him. With his two faces, four arms, and a mouth on his stomach, he was a symbol of terror on Earth, known for his merciless cruelty.
Yet, Y/N was different. She was his favorite, though no one could ever understand why. Sukuna would often call her to his chamber, spending hours in her company. It was as if a glimmer of humanity remained buried beneath the layers of his demonic exterior. Y/N knew better than to resist her role as his favored concubine, for disobedience often meant death. But as the weeks passed, Y/N felt a strange and sudden unease.
The first sign of change came when she realized her body was not quite as predictable as it had been. The morning sickness, the fatigue, and the subtle changes to her body all pointed to one conclusion – she was with child, and the father was none other than Sukuna himself.
As she ventured into his chambers one evening, her heart pounded with anxiety. He sat on a lavish throne, crowned in arrogance. His red eyes met hers, and he noticed the worry etched across her face.
"What troubles you, my dear?" Sukuna inquired, his voice as cool and dangerous as ever.
"I... I have news, Lord Sukuna," Y/N stuttered, attempting to maintain her composure. "I am with child." Sukuna's eyes widened, a flicker of surprise crossing his monstrous features. The room seemed to grow colder as an eerie silence settled over them. Y/N couldn't help but feel a shiver run down her spine.
For a moment, she feared the worst, that his anger would flare up like an inferno, that he would blame her for this unexpected turn of events. But then, something unexpected happened. His lips, both the one on his face and the other on his stomach, twisted into an unsettling smile.
"You're carrying my child?" Sukuna's voice held an inexplicable mix of amusement and curiosity.
Y/N nodded, her heart pounding in her chest. "Yes, my Lord. It is your child, a gift from our time together."
Sukuna's laughter echoed through the chamber, a haunting sound that sent shivers down her spine. "Well, well," he mused, "this is most intriguing. It seems fate has woven a different path for us, my dear concubine."
She couldn't fathom his reaction. What did he mean by "a different path"? Did he intend to harm her or the child? The rumors about his cruelty raced through her mind, but his next words caught her off guard.
"From this day forward," Sukuna declared, "you shall no longer be just my favored concubine. You shall be the mother of my heir, and my wife. I will get rid of the other concubines as soon as I can."
Y/N was stunned, her mind struggling to grasp the magnitude of what Sukuna had just said. Becoming his wife and the mother of his heir was a fate she could never have imagined. She had heard of the power and ruthlessness of the Cursed King, but this turn of events was beyond her wildest dreams, or nightmares.
"Lord Sukuna, I... I am honored by your decree." Y/N managed to say, her voice quivering. Her thoughts raced, and she couldn't help but wonder what had brought about this dramatic change in the notorious sorcerer.
Sukuna's demeanor shifted as he looked at her, a hint of vulnerability flickering in his eyes. "You are different from the others, Y/N. You possess a unique strength that intrigues me. You've not only survived but managed to capture my heart in your own way. I am curious to see how this new chapter in our lives unfolds."
As Y/N tried to wrap her mind around the astonishing twist of fate, she couldn't help but feel a mixture of emotions. Fear still lingered in her heart, for Sukuna's reputation was not one that could be easily forgotten. His sudden declaration to make her his wife and the mother of his heir was both a blessing and a curse. She knew she had gained a measure of protection, but she also recognized that her life had become infinitely more complicated.
Over the following months, as her pregnancy progressed, Y/N's relationship with Sukuna underwent a gradual transformation. He showed a surprising tenderness and protectiveness toward her, which left her both relieved and confused. The other concubines, who had once been her rivals, were swiftly removed from the palace, their fates unknown. Sukuna's sole focus was on Y/N and their unborn child.
Not only did she recognize his change, but she noticed a change in herself towards him. She had fallen for the strange man. Obviously before she became pregnant she had some sort of feelings for him, but this was different. She felt that this could have been love. Was it even possible to love the king of curses?
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As the months passed and her belly grew round with the child of Sukuna, Y/N's feelings for the Cursed King deepened. She found herself captivated not only by his power and enigmatic nature but by the glimpses of vulnerability he occasionally revealed. Despite his terrifying reputation, she saw in him a complex soul, and she couldn't help but empathize with his struggle to balance his monstrous identity with the spark of humanity that still flickered within him.
Their relationship became more than a mere arrangement of convenience. They spent hours talking, sharing their hopes and fears, and gradually, the walls that had separated them began to crumble. Y/N saw moments of gentleness in Sukuna, moments when he would softly caress her growing belly, whispering endearing words to their unborn child. She realized that, like anyone else, he longed for connection and love, something that had been denied to him for so long due to his horrifying appearance and terrifying powers.
Y/N's once-terrifying life as a concubine had turned into something unexpected and complicated. She was no longer just a plaything of the Cursed King; she had become his confidant, his companion, and now, the mother of his child. As she considered the strange turn of events, she wondered if her love for him was mutual. Did Sukuna truly care for her beyond their unborn child, or was this newfound affection merely a consequence of her pregnancy?
One fateful night, as they sat together in his chamber, Y/N decided to broach the subject that had been weighing heavily on her mind. She watched him, her heart racing, as she gathered the courage to speak. "Sukuna, I can't help but wonder about your feelings for me. This change in our relationship, it's... unexpected. Do you love me, or is this solely because of our child?"
Sukuna, the Cursed King, regarded her with his distinctive dual gaze. His red eyes bore into hers as if searching for something deep within her soul. The room was bathed in an eerie silence, broken only by the distant howling of the wind outside.
Finally, he spoke, his voice carrying a weight of sincerity that she had never heard from him before. "Y/N, what we have is complicated. I am not like other men, and you know that. But since the moment you told me you were carrying my child, something has awakened within me. I can't deny that I feel a connection, a bond, that goes beyond mere duty or convenience."
Y/N's heart leaped at his words, her eyes glistening with a mix of hope and uncertainty. She had never expected to hear such vulnerability from the feared sorcerer.
Sukuna continued, his voice softening even further. "I may not fully understand what love means, for it is a concept foreign to my nature. But I do know that I care for you deeply, Y/N, and I want to protect both you and our child. That much, I am certain of."
Tears welled up in Y/N's eyes as she heard his heartfelt confession. In that moment, she realized that the man known as the Cursed King, feared by all, had a heart that could feel, even if he struggled to comprehend it fully. She leaned in, her hand gently reaching for his, and their fingers intertwined.
"Thank you, Sukuna." she whispered, her voice filled with emotion. "I care for you too, and I want to be with you, not just as the mother of your child but as your partner, your confidant, and your love."
Sukuna's dual-faced smile returned, a rare and genuine one. He brought her hand to his lips and placed a tender kiss on it. "Then, my dear Y/N, let us navigate this strange and perilous world together, as partners, as parents, and perhaps one day, as lovers. If that is what we become at some point." Those words gave Y/N hope for the future with him.
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As the last few months of Y/N's pregnancy approached, the bond between Y/N and Sukuna only deepened. Their love was a complex, extraordinary force that defied the dark and twisted world they inhabited. Their child was a symbol of hope, a testament to the possibility of light even in the darkest of places.
On a stormy night, Y/N went into labor, and the estate was in chaos. Sukuna, who had never witnessed such an event, stood by her side, both anxious and determined. The sound of her painful cries filled the room, which worried Sukuna as her labor progressed. He was used to the sight of death, but the sight of life happening before his eyes, made him awestruck at the beauty of labor. 
After what felt like an eternity, Y/N sighed in relief as the cries of a newborn filled the air, echoing through the chamber. Y/N held their child, a tiny being that was so fragile and new in the world.
She looked up at Sukuna who had stayed almost silent during the whole thing, hoping he would say something.
Sukuna, the Cursed King, gazed down at the child in Y/N's arms with a mixture of awe and tenderness. His four eyes, were fixed on the newborn, and for a moment, it seemed as though the world had disappeared, leaving only the small family in that chamber.
For all his terrifying power and monstrous appearance, Sukuna was utterly captivated by the sight of his child. He carefully reached out to hold the child, and Y/N gently handed their son to him. The baby grasped one of his father's finger with a tiny, delicate hand, and the Cursed King's lips curled into a rare and gentle smile.
"He has my extra pair of arms." Sukuna said, releasing a soft chuckle, his voice filled with wonder. “He does seem to have my hair, but he does have your face.”
Y/N watched the father and son with tears of joy in her eyes. It was a moment of profound beauty in the midst of their dark and twisted world. She had never imagined that she would be sharing such an intimate and heartwarming moment with Sukuna, the most feared sorcerer of their time.
As the hours passed, Sukuna and Y/N took turns cradling and caring for their newborn. Their love for each other and their child grew stronger with each passing moment. They named their son Kaito, signifying a new beginning, a departure from the cursed legacy of the past.
As the two raised their child overtime, Sukuna was technically a changed man… for them at least. He still killed and reigned terror as he pleased, but the second he would return home to his wife and son, he showed his deep care and genuine love (as much as he hates to admit it) to them. Sukuna might be the king of curses, but he has a special place in his heart saved for who he calls his family.
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tiredmamaissy · 1 year
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Neteyam's first time (ever), cumming inside of you and say right after "oh Eywa... I'd come in you all night baby, let me fill you up again" and fucks you again
This breeding king is devouring me
HELP.
🔞🔞 mdni adult!nete
it's only the second time you've been with neteyam in this way, the second time he's been inside of you. your foreheads bumped in innocence, inexperienced bodies exploring one another. you're lying on your bed, back bowing against it's surface as your legs wrap around his. he's languidly thrusting into you, his strokes becoming deeper and shorter - more erratic. his breaths deepen, yet quicken at the same time. he's practically panting into your ear, grinding into you as he chases his high.
"do it i-inside, teyam." you manage to get out, so choked up from just how good he feels inside you.
"are - are you sure?" he asks, voice bouncing with each thrust of desperation.
"yes, yes! 'm g-gonna cum!" you hiccup, feeling the coil in your core snap in half.
with a gruff grunt, he empties himself inside you, warm cum flooding your womb to the point where the excess seeps out of you. he remains inside you, the throb of his cock sending you over the edge. your walls clamp down on him, before fluttering feverishly around him - milking whatever is left inside him directly inside of you.
"my yawne. oh - oh eywa." he huffs, hips spasming inside you from the aftershocks of such a powerful high, "i'd cum inside you all night. c-can we do it again?"
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devoutekuna · 4 days
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Family bonding
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Includes- Toji, Sukuna, Nanami, Gojo, Geto
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Sukuna-
Sukuna never brings his child around his followers, finding them unworthy to grace their eyes upon his offspring. Sat in a vacant room, laid out on the floor as he watched his followers trying to entrain him, dancing around, telling stories or jokes. Nothing could suffice him, a pile of heads adorning the corner of the room, yet to become of everyone. Small giggles being heard from the slightly open door, pink hair sticking out from beside it as he looked at it, hands working magic as he sliced their head off, ushering for the next person. Door slashed open just like those people, leaving wooden remains all around. "Show yourself" crimson eyes peering out from the last standing part of the door. A smile glistening on her face, flashing her canines at him. "Papa!" Running towards the king. A smirk on his face as he felt his daughter's embrace, staring at the one servant who raised their head just for it to be cut off, leaving no witnesses to the matter.
"Next!" Motioning for the next person to come in, only to receive the news that there was nobody left, leaving a pile of corpses in the corner of the room, blood seeping towards him.
Gojo-
"Won't mummy be mad?" Sat in his father's arms as he fought a curse, using his infinity to block all the attacks, still flinching from the idea of them getting through. "Not if she doesn't know" grinning at the little boy, he loved to mess with you, hearing you scold him was some of his favourite highlights. "But still" covering his head in his father's shoulder, white hair rubbing against his neck. "If you're that scared we can go home" exorcising the curse as he looked away, making sure not leave a mess and just use the excuse that it ran away. Kicking his leg into his chest on accident. "No!" Smiling at how much his son wanted to spend time with him.
Nanami-
"If your going to stay in here, help me out" trying to declutter his office. Taking down a box full of files, throwing them onto the sofa since he knew that they were no used to him. Reaching for the next one as he noticed a small pair of hands reaching towards him first. "To me" on her toes as she reached for it, wanting to be helpful like she said. "Don't drop it sweetheart." Handing her the box, noticing how she reacted by lowering her body, waddling over to the sofa since the box was too big for her. "Ooo, what's this daddy?" Pulling out a memory box you two made when you reached your 10 year anniversary. Ripping the box open before he could even get a good look at what she was talking about. Ripping the box from her arms, not knowing what she would discover if she opened it up. "Awh" folding her arms over her chest, trying to act cute to get it back. "Let's leave this up here" straining his arms as he put it back up.
Geto-
He's rambling on about his stupid followers, talking about how useless and belittling them, cup in hand as he took a few sips of the drink before he carried down talking. "Here you go daddy" running up to him with a new glass of milk, having it come out of the microwave, it was warm, but still a little cold. Ripping the other cup from his hands, running back to the kitchen to hand it you. "Thank you sweetheart" smiling at the girl as she seated herself next to him, leaning her body onto his.listening to whatever he had to say despite not understanding the meaning behind it at all. "And then they have the nerve to say something about my actions!" Maybe he was drunk with the way he was acting. Small hands leaning over to grab the felt tips, refusing to get out of her comfortable position only for her father to step in and pass them to her, stroking her hair in the process.
Toji-
"Keep up" strolling in the park, he would've kept his normal quick pace but he had his daughter with him, both dressed up in pyjamas as they walked through the park. He was only here because the lines for the food truck were shorter at nighttime. Nightie swaying in the wind despite her coat. "Wait up daddy!" Running up to him to try and grab his hand, only to grab his fingers because she was too short. Picking the girl up as he sped up, wanting to get back before you woke up since he knew you would scold him.
Sat on the bench eating some ice-cream, it was a quick stop by to the shop before they made it to the food truck since she was so hungry. Wiping the ice-cream off her nose with the spare tissue he had. "We've got to go before your ma' wakes up"
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bluerosefox · 10 months
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Daughter of Phantom, Lady Gotham.
I love Lady Gotham stuff in the DCxDP stories, like a lot, so what if, hear me out (Long post is long, I rambled again)
Lady Gotham is Danny's daughter.
How? How about Danny is hurt (his parents? GIW? Vlad?), like badly, to the point even his core is damaged and the time needed to heal would take years, like a lot of years. Like it was bad that even his Rogues were shocked and shaken. They eventually get him to the Realms but are unsure what to do next. So they're scrambling trying to figure out how to save him.
So when CW appeared he asked to handed the Core because he knows what to do, where to hide him so he can heal they don't question it, everyone in the Realms know CW, the Ancient of Time itself, has a soft spot for Phantom. He opens a portal to a different world, not Danny's he can't run the risk of GIW finding him, to a just beginning world, the new world will help speed up his healing, and with Frostbite's help they set up a healing chamber deep, deep in the ground. Once they made sure everything is set up and safe, they place his core inside the healing pod and return every so often to check on him.
Over time though, above on the surface of that world it's timeline starts. Animals, creatures, humans, aliens, magic users, etc etc begin and with it, because even as a half healing core, Danny's power and ectoplasm starts effecting the area he's resting in (Ghost King Danny? Young/New Ancient/Eldritch Being? Or just an OP Danny?) (Clockwork and even Frostbite showing up every so often doesn't help either, it explains why Gotham is so cold sometimes or why time seems... off)
Anyways due to Danny's power (along with bits of Clockwork and Frostbite), magic of this world, and people beginning to build a small town on top of the land it gives birth to the namesake of the town.
GOTHAM.
CW foresaw her 'birth' and finds her sitting in front of Danny's healing pod. He always knew Gotham would eventually form, the belief/love her people have in her would had given her a form eventually he just wasn't expecting her to form so soon (this is why Danny remains his favorite person, he always did something CW never really see's to often) nor was he expecting her to become Danny's daughter. Gotham looks a bit like Danny, dark hair, blue eyes, pointed ears, sharp teeth, glowing star like freckles, but she also reflects her people, the ones that call Gotham home so her image shifts sometimes. But he can see small hints of maybe himself and Frostbite in the shifts.
She is 100% Danny's daughter via spirit/ectoplasm. If anything CW and Frostbite are like many times removed family members when it comes down to ectoplasm.
She's silent for a moment before she asks if "You and the other come here often to see him... The one sleeping is he my father?" Which CW does confirm, he explains why Danny is healing and who he and Frostbite are and why they show up to make sure he is doing better. How his healing will take many, many years. She goes silent again before saying "Teach me how to protect him. I am new and young compared to others... and yet I already know if anyone desires him for the power he gives, they will stop at nothing. He is my father and I am his daughter, I need to keep him safe just how I know he would keep me safe. This much I know."
CW agrees.
She learns, from her father's allies (CW, Frostbite, Pandora, etc etc) how to defend and fight. How to protect what she loves. She watches over her father and fights off demon's, monsters, sometimes an alien that senses the slumbering power, evil magic users. Etc. She watches over the town and people who named her as well, falls in love with the humans who call her home as well and defends them as well.
She even gets the blunt force of a curse a powerful old entity that tired to place it on her father after she had just banished it from her lands. It's an old powerful curse that CW or Frostbite can't rid of because it would weaken her far to much that they run the risk of her fading, the only way to get rid of it is if she had a family member feeding her ectoplasim to help sustain her. (Her aunts can't because Jazz isn't ghostly enough and Danielle can't because hers is limited due to being a clone (like she has enough for herself but does need to visit the Infinite Realms during her travels to get more ectoplasim to filter in and out). Danny is their only chance because he's constantly filtering ectoplasim in and out and even creating it because of how he died with a portal opening up at the same time)
The curse slowly starts eating away at Gotham, makes it hard for her to have a solid corporeal form because pain (when she has to use this form to fight off others she has to bare through the pain), her appearance starts changing (eyes turn from sharp ice blue to glowing yellow, skin turns deathly sickly pale, her star freckles slowly blinking in and out, hands become inked claws, her dark hair is unkempt and spills like an oil sludge down her body and face) and because Danny is still healing himself he can't help her and she can't see him all too often anymore because she doesn't want to run the risk of the curse effecting his healing core, she does get updates from the other ghosts that visit him and then her. She still defends him though, outside of his healing chambers should on the rare chance something finds it way down to him.
Eventually due to Danny's and Gotham's natural ectoplasim filtering on the lands, visiting and powerful ghosts, Gotham fighting off powerful beings trying to use her father for power, and the curse on Gotham herself, the town that had been built on the ground above by humans becomes the very city we all know.
Its a whole mixed bag do to so many factors, that's why Gotham is the way it is.
Gotham does her best to keep her people safe from well... everything but due to the curse and the fighting off another person/entity/demon/magic user/etc coming for her father's power, she can't always do much by the time one crisis is over and a new one pops up, she's slowly breaking down the longer it takes.
That's why she has a soft spot for her Dark Knight and his family and allies, they help her from the pain from the curse by trying as both the Wayne's and as the Batclan to fix up her city self, its not enough to really fix her fully but it helps with the pain that eats at her.
She does her best to give them tiny blessings though, but due to her duty of protecting her father she can't always do much (she wept when news of Jason, her second Robin, her rough around the edges bookworm, had died came to her. She couldn't protect him because he was out of her reach. Its why when Joker returned she made it very hard for him to really gain his foothold in her again but had to stop because CW told her if she kept making it too hard for the clown he'd go running off to 'play' with a different hero and that... that timeline would lead the world to ruin. She begrudgingly stopped but when Joker had taken her third Robin, her tiny Tim the one she loved watching shadow her knights, she did everything she could to keep him sane from the pain he had been put in, and lead Batman to the warehouse to save him. Also it turns out her heartbreak over Jason's death, her curse acting up, and her ectoplasim sparking off at the same time it helped bring him back from his grave not fully but somewhat, she was so shocked that she didn't have time to send hints to Bruce to get him when he was taken by Talia and once again out of her reach. She tried hinting it to Bruce that Talia had taken him but by the time he would check on the League, Talia would had moved him)
Gotham, depsite being young in the eyes of many other powerful beings and entities has held her own and kept those that wanted to use her father for power packing. Despite being cursed that is slowly eating her alive she still holds onto the hope her father will awaken and she will finally get to meet him. (She hopes she made him proud, he is a protector spirit core after all and she had been steadfast with keeping him safe all these years).
Things however take a turn for the worse when Gotham awakens from some sort of powerful slumber (she doesn't know what happened?! Did something knock her out?! When did she fall asleep?! Was it magic? Did the curse do it? Did someone or something-) And discovers someone or something had managed to steal her father slumbering core. (So close to healing, so close to awakening according to Frostbite, just a few more days he says. Just. A. Few. More. Days)
She tries to go find him but is suddenly hurting more, her curse has progressed even worse, she can barely stand, let alone fight whoever had her father. And she knows her father's friends won't be back to see her until far later.
And then all of Gotham shakes and shudders when her rage, panic, and terror are felt that early morning.
-×-×-
Deep in the Batcave, Batman and the others are searching for whatever caused that strange almost magical but not (ectoplasm) shudder that morning.
They were expecting a full scale attack. Magical, alien, maybe even all the Rogues in Gotham working together. An all scaled war. They were looking for any signs of it, maybe to by some miracle stop it before it becomes to late.
They however weren't expecting a strange sick looking woman with yellow glowing eyes, oil ink like hair covering her face and body, clawed hands like they had dipped in ink as well, star like freckles blinking in and out on her body and face, sharp ears, breathing heavily and coughing every so often to appear in the cave. Like she had sunk out from the shadows in pure silence. (Even Cass did not hear her)
Nor were they expecting her not to even flinch when they trained their weapons onto her. Instead all she did was laugh, a raspy low laugh, but it held warmth and mirth.
"Now, now my knights... No need for that. I come needing help and you are the only ones I will ever trust with this mission..." her voice was soft but harsh, talking seemed to hurt her though for she had to take deep breaths and suppress a cough. Her eyes trailed across them all, despite her sickly look her eyes gleamed with a motherly warmth in a strange sense, something all of them could feel "I can not hold this corporal form for long. Long story short I am cursed, have been for a very long time and whatever happened to me earlier this morning has aggravated it even more and thus I can not stay in the world of the 'living' to do much. My father, the one I have been protecting since my creation from all sorts of terrible and dangerous things, for should they get a hold of him it could spell the end of life itself for he is that powerful, has been taken from his healing chamber. I do not know who or where but I know he still remains in the city, that much I can sense."
She coughed and took a shuddering breath "But alas I can not go to his aid as I once has been able to, this is where you all come in. I need you to find my father, find his core. Bring him to safety. I had fought so many to keep him safe, to make sure he heals in peace for so long, and he... So close. Just a few more days he needed... then I could had finally had met him."
She lightly muttered those last few words, eyes looking lost for a moment before coughing hard.
"Who are you." Batman, Bruce Wayne, stonely demanded but for some reason he couldn't help but feel like he knows her, like from a foggy memory, and by the looks of his family they all could sense the same thing.
The woman, or whatever she was, merely smiled, sharp teeth bared in it as she looked him right in the eyes and said.
"Gotham, my dear Dark Knight. I am Lady Gotham herself. Its wonderful to finally meet you despite the circumstances."
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trashogram · 2 months
Text
He Chose You (Pt. 8)
Lucifer/Reader: Lucifer chooses you to be the mother of his child. Rated E.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13
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The illness persists in the weight of your skin over your bones yet the loss of actual muscle and fat that turn you skeletal. Your legs become bow-like and pain radiates just above your hairline. Your vision crackles with scattered flashes of black dots, and you drink like a man lost in the desert. 
Only foods that are red stay down, and even then you only nibble at peppers and plug your nose at the raw meat you stuff in your mouth. You feel the sunlight outside your window when you open it up and stick your hand through, as walking out of your apartment is a chore you can only handle once a week at most. 
Once a homebody, reclusive out of necessity and exhaustion from simple interactions, you now live for Lucifer’s chatter. His presence abates your fever, physically and emotionally. The dependence on him, as sweet as he appears, makes you itch inside. 
Everything is terrible, you tell yourself at least once per day, as the illness persists. 
But if Lucifer is good at anything, it’s providing you with distractions from the ever-present suffering.
The sounds you made put the Angelic Choir to shame. 
“Lucifer, don’t say that!”
The King of Hell’s laugh was muffled as he stayed buried in your cunt. The memory of you being so flustered was almost just as sweet. 
He eyed your tightly screwed expression just over your growing belly, and felt gratified at his idea to have you propped up by pillows from head to hips. With the boost, Lucifer could watch you enjoy yourself and remain comfortable. 
Let him feel the springs of your mattress dig into his knees and stomach. They were secondary to the pain of his own hardness straining in his slacks. 
A keen from you, and the feeling of your nails as they raked through his hair and over his scalp, had Lucifer moaning. His eyes rolled back, momentarily blinded by euphoria. 
“Ooh!” 
Eyes snapping open, Lucifer lifted himself from the bed quickly. His tongue slipped out of you, dripping onto the sheets when he was mindless to reeling it back in.
“Why’d you stop?” Your whine between quick pants made him blink.
One eye at a time. 
“I thought I hurt you.” He smiled, sheepishly, once his tongue was back in his mouth. 
His mauve-lids and golden lashes fluttered when you wiped the slick from his chin. There was no missing the color that had returned to your cheeks with all the exertion he was putting you through, and he felt a swell of pride at being able to breathe life back into you. So to speak. 
“Heaven help me.” You said, sarcastically. 
Breathlessly.
The Devil’s hips jerked when your hand rose to grip a fistful of his blond hair. You manually lowered him back between your legs, heedless to the way his entire frame shivered.
— 
‘I think I… I think I’m in love with her.’ Lucifer looked so earnest, meeting the glow of Ozzie’s stare. 
The Sin clucked a tongue in his King’s direction, shaking his head. ‘Well, don’t tell her that. You’re gonna scare her away, man.’ 
Lucifer watched you fall apart from just his tongue (its length and width being inhuman notwithstanding). 
You were so beautiful like this. Legs shaking, body spasming, letting go.
‘I love you.’ 
Man’s (alleged) Greatest Enemy could just barely contain himself. 
‘I love you I love you I love you’ 
Lucifer brings you another scroll one sunny day, and you find it riddled with names. 
“I’ve been thinking about what to call him or her, so I made a list! …Kinda, sorta during a meeting… whatever, it wasn’t that important!” 
Oh, you could see that. 
“Do you like any of them? Which are your favorites? No! Gimme your top 5!” His jubilation is so innocent, but something inside you hitches. 
“Does it actually matter what I think?” You chuckled. 
“Of course it does!” He cried. “You’re the mo— uh… you’re putting in most of the work!”
The weak save went unchallenged. You were already circling names, likening the process to navigating a minefield as you looked through a long line of names you couldn’t even pronounce or read. 
‘Ehb 
Horus
Azor 
Carlton’
“What about a girl?” Lucifer asked out of the blue. 
Your head cocked to the side as you realized your picks had been relegated to just one side of the endless list. That he’d written down names for boys and for girls struck you as odd. 
 “You think it’ll be a girl?” 
Lucifer looked at you with a curious gaze. “Could be, couldn’t it?”
After a moment, you shrugged. “I guess so…” 
The King’s confusion crinkled around his eyes and caused an uncanny few lines in his otherwise perfect forehead. You flick the pen at him teasingly to wipe the look from his face.
You write a few names down, and watch with a smirk as his frown turns upside down. 
‘Adrienne 
Charlotte
Maleficent’
You ignored the painful thought that this was a pointless endeavor. Naming a dead thing.
With eyebrows raised, you sat waiting dutifully, hands clasped over your stomach while he rummaged through the box. 
“Aha!” He pulled out two red objects, one in each hand, and knee’d the chest out of the way to present them to you.
“Surprise!”
Two remarkably crafted stuffed animals were set before you on the couch cushion. 
Goats. 
It took you a second to place them, staring at their intricate appearances — covered in fluffy red fur from head to cloven hoof, with large yellow eyes and tiny red smiles stitched on their stark white muzzles. 
Shiny, metallic-looking horns curled over the curvature of their little heads, tips almost touching the tiny approximations of wings protruding from their backs. You noticed that the little wings were also sticking out of the backs of their tiny tuxedo suits; solid black to further contrast their Luciferean color schemes. 
An uncharacteristically high-pitched squeal escaped you. 
Damn these hormones. You internally chastised yourself while reaching out to finger at the detailed plushies. 
“They’re so cute!” You admired the unbelievable softness of one’s fur, hand overlapping with Lucifer’s as you turned it this way and that. His grin was so wide in your peripheral vision as he soaked up your fawning.
“Aren’t they?!” Lucifer squealed along with you. “They’re twins! But see this one has lighter fur and this one has sharper eyes. I tried to give them little differences so they had some individuality.” 
“Michael and I looked so similar in the Beginning, a ton of people always got us mixed up. Sometimes it was fun, but I got tired of hearing him bitch about it after the first couple centuries.”
A more serene countenance overtook your counterpart, with his line of sight drifting off to the floor beside you. Lost in thought. Or perhaps reminiscing. 
“Michael?” You asked gently. 
“My brother.” Lucifer replied. 
“Ohh, I think I remember… is he a Prince of Hell too?” 
The formerly Divine man frowned. “… No. Not him.”
A shadow fell over you both, distant sadness suffusing the air. You reached for him instantly, only for Lucifer to switch on like a lightbulb and grin manically. 
“Oh well! Who knows, maybe he took Dad’s side just to make sure no one ever confused us for each other ever again!” 
You pulled away. “… right.” 
Lucifer shook his head after a glance in your direction. 
“Um, so, I was thinking…” He began. “Maybe we give one to the baby an-nd… one could stay here… with you…” 
There was no hiding the confusion that crossed your face. 
You ‘tsk’ed. “You wanna deny the baby half this cuteness?” 
In response, Lucifer tittered, still adamant on looking around the room instead of meeting your gaze head on. “Hah, no. I was thinking that, maybe, we could keep one of them here and… and then they could reunite every time the baby and I… or just the baby… visit…”
Slow realization made your already weak constitution roil. 
Perhaps, if you’d been yourself and not the hollow shell of a person you’d become while pregnant, you would’ve been angry. Or upset enough to shout. Maybe you would’ve gotten up and left him there on his lonesome, wordlessly demanding he not entertain that idea ever again. 
Certainly, the You from before this insane, impossible scenario wouldn’t hesitate to react melodramatically. 
You sighed, fiddling with one of the goat’s tails. “Oh Lou…” 
He cringed beneath the weight of your words, laden with a heaviness that harshened his already guilty conscience. 
“Wait, before you say no —” Lucifer felt his mouth running away from him. “Maybe you could think about it and then decide? Maybe after they’re born?”
“It doesn’t have to mean anything. I don’t expect anything from you.” 
“You’re expecting me to be its mother.” Your tone broke no room for argument. 
Mauve eyelids drooped as Lucifer looked down in shame. “I — ”
“I wouldn’t make a good mom.” Your statement stopped him in his tracks. 
Frustration simmered in Lucifer, slowly creeping into his expression as you continued, unrelenting. His posture went rigid, hands beginning to clench at his sides.
“It’s not that I don’t care. I probably care too much, actually.” You admitted.
It was true. Regardless of your paranoia and how justified it was or not, the sole basis for why you felt the need to argue in the first place —
(And wasn’t that just pathetic? You had feelings for the Epitome of Evil and had entertained being safe and happy with him) 
— the reality was that you’d been a broken human being before this cosmic impossibility entered your life. 
“I just don’t…” You sighed. “I wouldn’t be a good part of their life if I was in it.” 
Your head whipped up, vision spotting when Lucifer blurted:
“You are the best part of my life.” 
He looked angry. Furious. So much so that the sclera around his irises began to radiate a blood-red. 
“Do you know how hard it is? To leave you? I have to convince myself every single time that you’ll still be here when I return!” Lucifer claimed. “And soon I won’t even be able to do that!” 
“I don’t want to say goodbye forever! I… I l…” 
You shuddered, stiffening in your seat. As soon as he realized, Lucifer’s display was cowed. 
“Fuck, are you alright? I’m not — I don’t know what came over me!”
You shook your head. “No.” 
“It stopped.” You whispered. 
Lucifer’s grip trembled around your wrists. “Stopped?”
His breathless echo of your words drew your eyes up. You saw the storm brewing in his ruby eyes, as even though he waited for you to elaborate, a million thoughts pelting at his brain like hail. 
“The pain stopped.” You said. 
Your hands felt over the bump beneath your breasts, as if you might find the imaginary ‘off’ button and turn it back on.
It was ludicrous to think about, but you immediately wished for the agony that had been crippling you to return if it meant that this baby wasn’t… wasn’t… 
Tears glistened in your eyes. Lucifer drew you to his chest in spite of the fear that was pulling his shoulders taut. 
“Wh-what did you do today? Anything different?” The ex-Angel asked shakily. 
His eyes scanned you up and down, lingering on the little dolls he’d just gifted you. 
“No… n-no, nothing different.” You said. “I was in bed all morning, and th… then Cass was here and we had tea… we went out and walked a little bit outside.” 
“Did you fall?” The King hedged. 
You gasped, eyes widening. Instinctively your arms wrapped around your middle at the foreign feeling emanating from within. 
“Did…! You fell??” He panicked, grabbing onto you like a life raft. “Where? On what?!”
His words drifted away as you were enveloped in the strangest surge of feeling you’d ever experienced. 
You could only just muster up the energy to shake your head. 
Sudden warmth. 
And pressure. 
A tiny flutter, one you’d never felt before. 
You inhaled quickly yet deeply at the feeling of something pressing against your belly-button from the inside. 
It made you grin, hands coming back to grab for Lucifer’s own and to pull them to your stomach. “They’re alive!” 
The man’s jaw went slack, staring sightlessly for just as long as it took to soak up the sudden heat there. The baby took pity on its poor, trembling father and kicked again. 
It was Lucifer’s turn to gasp, looking back and forth between you and the bump with dawning awe. 
“It is!” He laughed, a tad bit hysterically. “It — they are alive!” 
“… And… glowing…”
“You’re glowing!”
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stinkysam · 2 months
Text
Lucifer Morningstar - Wrong impression.
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Warning : none
Genre : fluff
Synopsis : “May I request Hazbin Lucifer x Gojo! Gn reader? Strongest vs the strongest energy” - anon
Reader : you / yours
A/N : probably didn't go the route you wanted… but I'm not that good with character!reader. Hope you still like it !
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When meeting you, Lucifer was quite nervous. You were one of the strongest overlord of hell and had made your way up very quickly after your arrival down here. Upon shaking your hand, beads of sweat glided down his forehead.
What kind of business did you have with his daughter ? Why were you here ? He wondered, eyeing Charlie quickly.
His smile was a big toothy one but you could tell he wasn't very comfortable, he even wiped his hand on his coat after shaking yours. Subconsciously.
You weren't necessarily imposing or intimidating -though you were really good looking- so he had no reason to be nervous. You were even warm and welcoming toward him. And quite charming. Yet there was something else about you he couldn't put his finger on.
And you don't become an overlord by just being kind and goofy. You had to be powerful and dangerous. But who said you couldn't be all that ?
He expected it to be a ruse to manipulate his daughter and him. So with squinted eyes he watched your every move to find the moment you would drop the act.
But it never happened. Maybe it was because he had so much on his plate ? Trying to form a bond with his daughter, keeping an eye out for Alastor and another one for you.
But your warm smile seemed genuine and you never once put yourself between him and Charlie like Alastor had done, claiming she could almost call him “dad” in their song.
You seemed to be close with Charlie's friends as well and they didn't seem to be worried about themselves with you being an overlord. You even seemed like a close friend of theirs. And the feeling was apparently reciprocated.
With a frown, Lucifer decided to give you a chance, waiting for you to slip up and show your true intentions, but it never happened. Until the fight against Adam with his exorcists.
Like him you had arrived late and like him again you had shown arrogance and confidence as you fought the angels. You killed them without mercy and easily and it even looked like you were finding it… boring ?
They were too weak for you and you knew it. It was easy to protect the cannibals and Charlie's friends.
You clearly wanted to have a go with Adam but let Lucifer handle it, you knew he could stand against him after all.
And he did.
Charlie had to stop him from landing the finishing blow and you wondered if you would have listened. If Lucifer had listened then maybe you would have too.
But Nifty didn't seem to have the same moral compass as you or Lucifer as she stabbed Adam to his death. Several times. While laughing.
The fight was over, very few exorcists remained and Lute flew away with them and Adam's halo. You helped rebuild the hotel with a nice song to motivate you and your friends and especially Charlie who felt down after all the bloodshed.
But before you could leave to go back to your quarters, Lucifer came to you, rather nervously. You turned to him, and stared.
“Er… You're not so bad, finally.” Lucifer said, fiddling with his bow-tie before extending his hand out.
“You thought I was bad ?” You raise an eyebrow, amused and shake his hand. This time he doesn't wipe it on his coat.
“The whole overlord title doesn't really go in favor of being… good.”
“Neither does the title of King of Hell. And yet, here you are !” You smiled, nudging him lightly with your elbow and he chuckled at your remark.
“Yes. I guess so.” Lucifer smiled and looked up at you. “Thank you for being here for my daughter. I mean it.”
You only grinned proudly, planting your hands in your pockets after patting his shoulder.
“Oh well, she's worth it.”
Lucifer returned your smile, happy to see Charlie had a powerful friend like you beside her. Not like that radio demon who seemed more than sketchy. Maybe he could count on you to watch that demon and stop him from harming his precious daughter.
And maybe even he could see you as a friend.
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