#and also are capable of taking some deep breaths and figuring out a way to be around each other

[ahgasegotarmy116]

Do it for Him | Do You Even Love Me? | Jeon Jungkook

Summary: Voicing the thoughts that had been on your mind for so long leaves you broken and regretting every decision you've ever made. Pairing: Daughter in law reader x Father in Law Jungkook (Yändere) Word Count: 1.1k~ Warnings: An argument and some explicit language (kinda but not really) a/n: This is a hypothetical situation and is NOT what happens in the story. Oc and Jungkook don't end up together and I'll be writing another bonus chapter about how everything ends but this is simply a longer drabble that I just decided to make into a bonus chapter since I think some of you would be interested in reading it 😁 P.s. Requested by an annon 💜 (also written in one sitting so ignore any mistakes lol) Series Masterlist

"How was your day today?" I ask half heartedly, wondering if he'll actually speak to me like a human being today or skip to having sex again like he's done almost every time he's come to visit lately.

"It was fine but I don't want to talk about work since it looks like someone's been missing me huh?" he taunts, taking my want for interaction with him as a sign of an insatiable hunger he wishes I shared.

"I did miss you but I missed being with you, not just sex" I say, pressing on his chest to keep some space between us to show I'm serious and want to talk about this.

He stops and waits for me to continue but his eyes don't leave my body for a second.

"When I told you I loved you I didn't mean for our life to end up like this" I say, referring to the way we've been living for the past year.

"What's wrong? Did you need something else? You have my credit card and I told you before that you didn't have to ask me for anything. If you want it then get it. It's the least I could do for my beautiful Angel" he says while caressing my face but I take a step back, not letting him put me under his spell again.

"I'm not talking about money Jungkook. I'm talking about how I told you I didn't want to live as 'The other woman'. You told me you were going to get a divorce and let the children and I move in with you. Not just have you pop by at this separate house you have us living in" I say. 

He turns around and heads to the kitchen, gulping down a glass of water and placing the cup down on the counter. "I told you I would take care of it" he growls out while leaning both hands against the sink, clearly not appreciating the topic of conversation when all he had been looking for was a quick fuck.

"You told me that a year ago and from what I've seen you've been lying to me this whole time. Have you even filed the papers? You know that neither of you love each other so what's the point of keeping this whole charade going?" I say, following after him and standing my ground, not letting him drop this.

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, trying to center himself so he won't blow up on me like he has in the past. "These things take time Angel, plus going through a divorce would make my company take a big hit and might ruin some of the relationships I've built" he tries to explain but I'm not having it.

"If your company is all you care about then maybe all of this was a mistake" I say, turning around to walk into my bedroom with him following lazily behind me.

"You know I care about you too Angel" he says, leaning in the doorway while I've decided to plot down on the bed, running my fingers through my hair and trying to figure out if any of this was a good idea.

From the looks of it to any outsider this whole relationship was bound to go up in flames sooner or later. My life wasn't supposed to be like this. Was I really that naïve to think that somehow things would change if we were actually together? Did I really think that he was capable of loving me too?

"No I don't know that. I know that you love my body and that you love having sex with me and the idea of being with me and stealing me away from your son but I don't even know if you actually love me. Y/n. Not Angel, not the mother of your children, not the daughter in law that you took advantage of, just me" I spout off everything that's been on my mind and I can see that he starts to more or less assess our relationship and I really hope I'm going to get the answer I'm hoping for.

"You knew who I was when you first met me. You knew who I was when you married my son and you definitely knew what you were getting yourself into when you left him to be with me. I'm not this loving and kind husband that you want me to be and deep down you know that too. Do I care about you? Yes, I do. Do I love you? I don't know. I don't know if I do and I don't know if I ever will and if that's not good enough for you then be my guest, say the word and we can end this right now" he says and every condescending word that falls from his lips is like a knife through my heart.

I choke back a sob as my eyes glass over leaving him rolling his eyes, clearly not having the patience to deal with this today. 

"Seems like you've got some stuff to think about and from the looks of it I've got some business to attend to" he says, hinting at the headache it's going to be for him to go through with this divorce. 

He strides over to the bed where I'm sat with my head down, trying and failing to hold back my tears and picks up my chin. "Just remember who you're dealing with Angel okay? It will make all of ours lives so much easier if you stop thinking that you can change me" he says, caressing my face again, driving the knife deeper. 

"I am who I am and if you can't accept that then I think we have some hard decisions we'll need to make here" he says a wipes away a few of my tears before tapping underneath my chin twice and walking away. 

"Where are you going?" I ask, getting up and following him out, my vision going glossy. "It seems you're not in the mood that I thought you might be in so I think it's best if I go. Give my love to the children" he says over his shoulder and walks out, leaving me speechless and beyond heart broken, mourning the life I had with his son all over again and missing the feeling of loving someone and being loved in return. 

"What have I done?" I whimper, sinking to the floor and sobbing, wishing that I could take it all back. That I could start over and never get mixed up with this family no matter how in love I was with his son. I never knew that a love that was once so pure would be traded for one that is so devastatingly one sided, wrecking my life beyond compare and stealing what little pieces of me I had left. 

Read series from the beginning

Taglist: @jkslipppiercing @trina864 @kaitieskidmore97 @goddesofimortality @coolbluedude @00frenchfries00 @bangtans-momma @coralmusicblaze @pastelpinkjoon @joonwater @marvelbun @j3nni-rs @evidive @beomieboi @forevrglow @jesssssmaybankk @teugiie @chaconnelatte @whoa-jo @snehal @xumyboo @mindurbuzznezz @diorh0seokie

Join my Taglist!

Feel free to fill out the form or just comment on any of my fics to be added :)

#jungkook fanfic #jungkook #fanfic #fanfiction #kpop #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #bts #kpop fanfic #ask #jungkook bts #jungkook x reader #do it for him drabble #do it for him

[hypostatic-oath]

Hydro Archon, Hydro Archon, Don't Cry

I've noticed a pattern with 5star characters in my game - they only come home after I've done their story quest or at least the Archon Quest where they appear. From an in-game perspective it's obviously because it takes me a while to finish the quest and I raise the pity in the meantime, however... from a SAGAU perspective, it's adorable that they only come around after I've spent the time to get to know them better.

Content Warnings: Angst, Furina desperately needs a hug.

SPOILERS FOR 4.2 BELOW

Imagine Furina before the Archon Quest. She's holding it together, like she has been for five hundred years. She's been performing her role so well for so long, yet she feels like she's already gone beyond her limit. She doesn't know how long she can handle doing this for, but she knows she must.

Late at night, she takes a break to catch some air. She's aware that she's still performing - she's alone, but she cannot risk lowering her mask, even before an invisible audience. She takes a deep breath and looks up, and doesn't even feel the tears flowing down her face.

A shimmering light crosses the sky.

Foçalors, it beckons. Come home.

Oh no. Not this. She's not ready, she's not ready! Not tonight. She tells herself she'll answer your summons tomorrow. In truth, she doesn't feel worthy of answering. What if she's not what you expect?

That isn't even a question. She knows she's not what you expect.

She knows you have other Archons - real Archons - among your Vessels. She panics - she doesn't even have a Vision, much less an Archon's authority. There's only so much she can achieve with acting. What would she do when you took her out on the battlefield and she inevitably failed?

Come on... Another shooting star crosses the sky, your voice a faint, ethereal whisper in her ears. I need an Archon team...

It fills her with dread. She can't answer your summons! She absolutely can't! Not only would she disappoint you - because there's no way she wouldn't, surely, she can't imagine a world in which you are not disappointed once you figure out just what she is, a fraud who can't even use Hydro much less be the literal Archon - she'd also jeopardize her only purpose.

She rushes inside, back to her room, closes the shutters and the window and the curtains and almost leaps into bed, placing the covers over herself as if to shield herself from the world.

She can still hear you calling.

The next day, Poisson is struck. The prophecy is in full swing. She's frantic, searching for something, anything that could possibly help. All the while maintaining the façade. At least you seem to have given up.

It's both relieving and heartbreaking.

At night, she doesn't even risk it - her windows are kept shut. She analises every report, and locks her door when she notices that she's crying, the papers she's holding becoming dotted with tears that fall despite her best efforts. She can hear the rain hitting her window, and the downpour has her feeling even more hopeless.

Neuvillette speaks with her in the following morning. If the pressure from you wasn't enough, she now also has to manage to assure the Hydro Dragon Sovereign that she has everything under control. It's funny, how those eyes capable of such gentleness seem to gaze into her without a shred of mercy. Just speaking to him now feels like she's been put on trial, and Furina knows, deep down in her soul, that she is guilty.

He presses. Poisson has fallen. She knows. She also knows she's likely crying, the mask is slipping, but she can't give up. She has no right - no right at all, to sacrifice the lives of every person in Fontaine for the sake of her comfort. She cannot afford to slip up. And that means she cannot trust anyone - not you, and not Neuvillette. So she gathers the little control she can at this time, tells him she knows exactly what she's doing, and dashes out the door.

Wait, Furina!

She barely hears your voice as she runs. "I'm sorry, but I can't answer!" She thinks, as she rushes to the top floor of the Palais Mermonia. She knows she gas no time to lose. She needs to get herself in check, to wipe away her tears, to figure something out. Where had she gone wrong? Five hundred years, searching for a solution. Five hundred years of observing every trial, hoping it'll finally be the one she needs. But nothing.

She has nothing, and Poisson has fallen.

She thought the Traveler - and you, by extension - would be the key. That by judgding them she'd have the "most magnificent trial" that her mirror self spoke of. And yet, at every turn, the blonde outlander had managed to evade being sentenced, or even making the trial as grand as she'd expected. She paces around in her room as she mulls it over. Should she had judged you directly? Could she have done so? That would've been a trial for the ages - the Overseer, brought to justice by the Hydro Archon of Fontaine, for the crime of... what could she even accuse you of? Posessing people's bodies? That had to be illegal - or at least immoral enough to warrant a trial...

She lets her body flop onto the bed, covering her eyes with one arm as she lets out a sigh that despite its overdramatic appearance, is in fact incredibly genuine. She's tired. So tired.

Foçalors, come home.

Furina buries her face beneath one of the pillows. She hopes it'll drown out the sound of your voice. She can't distinguish whether that ache in her chest is from your summons growing more insistent or from how much she needs to cry.

The shooting star turns golden outside the window, and Furina wonders if the fact that someone else intercepted it will be enough to dissuade you. She hopes it is, otherwise, her days are numbered.

No more stars cross the sky that night, and relief washes over her body, in a wave so intense that she once again doesn't notice the tears. She falls asleep like that, and dreams of rising waters.

Furina heads to the Opera Epiclese in the morning. She's not looking forward to seeing Neuvillette, but she prays that there'll be a trial. "Please," she thinks, as she sits down in the throne reserved for the Hydro Archon, observing the stage from on high, "let it be today."

It isn't. Instead of a trial, there is a performance... and though she usually loves them, now is not the time. Worse yet, she's spotted by the crowd as she's getting ready to leave. They're angry, of course they are. The prophecy is true, and what is their Archon doing? Furina performs as best as she can, but this time the audience is completely unreceptive. She doesn't blame them. She'd be angry, too, in their shoes. She knows they're terrified. She's terrified, too.

But what can she do? Her search has turned up empty. She has no powers, not really, none besides the power of persuasion and even that seems to be slipping more and more these days. She cannot reassure her people. Neuvillette no longer trusts her, if he ever did. The water rises every day with no signs of stopping.

"Why, mirror-me? Where am I failing?"

The crowd chases her out of the theater. Neuvillette is nowhere in sight, and even if he were, Furina isn't sure she could call upon him now. The time in which he acted as her shield if gone. Neuvillette is now just another of the many she's disappointed.

It hurts.

With no other choice, she runs - as far as her legs will take her, she dashes away from the crowd, and guilt tells her she's being a coward. That she needs to stand up and reassure the masses, that she needs to do what an Archon would at that time.

The notion feels almost ridiculous. She cannot command her element freely like Barbatos, or raise protections over her city like Morax. She cannot threaten to strike down the unruly like the Shogun, nor does she have Lesser Lord (Lesser Lord! Hah! Even someone known as 'Lesser' is leagues beyond Furina's ability) Kusanali's foresight and wisdom.

So she does what she can do.

Whether it is fate or simply her own feelings of guilt, she finds herself in Poisson, at the base of the Spina di Rosula. The place where all those people - her people - had lost their lives to a disaster she was supposed to prevent.

When the Traveler extends their hand, she doesn't know whether it is a blessing or a curse. She wants to run again - what else can she do? But her pursuers are apparently still giving chase, and the outlander offers her aid. She can feel your presence from within them - every time she's crossed paths with them, as brief as those moments were, you were there. She can tell that the longing in the blonde's eyes is, at least in part, yours.

She's sorry.

She follows the Traveler to the hiding place - someone's home? It seems irrelevant. For a moment, she wonders if she could sue you for invasion of private property. "Oh, what am I thinking? The time for the grand trial is over... and even if it weren't, suing the Overseer for something so trivial would warrant the same result as the first time I challenged the Traveler..."

The Traveler. The outlander whose presence preceeded disaster. They were known for solving it, sure, but she knew that the moment they set foot in Fontaine the prophecy would have already started. Was it their fault, or yours?

Furina still feels like it might be hers.

The Traveler offers help once again. They extend their hand, and the look in their eyes as they ask her to confide in them is so earnest, so genuine. She swars she can hear two sets of voices saying the words - the Traveler's, and yours. It's faint, and gentle, and pained, and carries a yearning she knows she cannot fix.

Through them, you reach for her and she almost breaks. She knows you'll stop reaching once you know the truth.

Furina, please. You can trust us, love. Let me- let us help. People from your world cannot know, but neither of us fit that criteria. Your people will not dissolve, I promise you. I've seen enough worlds to know.

She considers it.

She hears your voice, and considers it. But there is uncertainty in your tone. You're gambling, and she's a good enough actress to know you're not sure yourself. They wouldn't do it, that's your reasoning. Furina doesn't know who 'they' are, but you're placing all your bets on the fact that 'they' would not erase an entire Nation. Who are 'they'? Celestia? If so, she knows for certain that your wager is more optimistic than based on facts. It's not enough - blind optimism is not enough for her to risk it, not even from a being like you. Besides, that is not her choice to make.

She cannot give up. She cannot lower her guard. Not with Neuvillette, not with the Traveler, not with you. The Traveler urges her for a response, reaches out, and she's about to deny them, when the house's walls fall.

Damn it, we needed more time! Furina, I'm so sorry.

She feels your sorrow about at the same time that she feels the spotlight on her.

Neuvillette looks down from his seat as the Chief Justice, and somehow the sliver of pity in his eyes hurts more than the coldness of a few days prior.

She's on trial.

________

She's crying.

She's not even making an effort to conceal it anymore. It's over. The curtains have closed and everything she worked so hard for has crumbled. The people know. Neuvillette knows. You know. Furina makes no effort to hear your voice. She knows you're disappointed.

If she did, perhaps she'd hear how you're screaming at the Traveler to go check on her. If she did, perhaps she'd hear how despite everything, you're reaching out, still. How you wish to hold her tight, as she deserves. She'd perhaps hear your outrage at the thought of her being subjected to the death sentence, she'd hear you trying to tear Neuvillette apart for allowing it, she'd hear you slowly realising that the fact that the sentence is addressed to the Hydro Archon means it's not her who dies.

She doesn't witness your relief.

Instead, it is you who gain an understanding of her thoughts. The Traveler reaches for her, and she can feel you pushing through, but she can't stop performing. Even now, she's still holding it, as much as she can.

You tear through her defenses with more ease than she expected. Furina had, until now, thought of you as detached. She knew you saw the world as a stage, a story for your amusement. Sure, you liked them, but only to the extent that one likes characters in a play, right? You were, as far as she knew, exactly the type of god - or, er, entity? - she emulated. Fickle. Boastful. Using lives as entertainment, watching trials and tribulations like a performance and solving the Nations' troubles like nothing more than a game. She had not expected you to care.

Not about her.

Not after knowing the truth.

You push forward. She knows it's you, and not the Traveler, who's in control. She can feel it, the intensity with which you reach out is the same she felt tugging at her very being every time a star crossed the sky. She knows it's you who's still trying to reach her. Even if she's failed.

Even if she's not capable of being in your Archon Team.

So she sighs, and lets you witness. That is your role, after all, isn't it? An audience of one, watching an interactive play. You haven't given up on her character, even though it's not what you expected. You're not what she expected, either. Funny, she finds herself thinking, you're both more human than anyone realised.

You witness her life. She lets it play out like a film before your eyes, the endless stream of memories of growing hopelessness as she realised that the prophecy was slowly setting itself up and she was not any closer to finding out how to stop it. Now you know - the truth, the whole truth. She has nothing left to lose now, anyway. Everything is lost. She was unmasked. She failed.

You're pushed out of her thoughts after she invites you to take your place on stage. You act in her memory, but this time the Traveler doesn't speak. You barely have time to state your piece - all you manage is an I'm sorry before being forced away. She has nothing more to share. That is enough, she figures, and far more than she ever thought she'd share. She still feels the urge to cry, but part of it is from relief.

After that, she doesn't feel your presence until after the flood.

The prophecy comes and goes and Fontaine is unharmed. The flood lasts no more than minutes, and no one is dissolved. Furina remembers your words - 'they' wouldn't do that. Though she is unsure as to 'their' identity, she is thankful that you were right. The sunlight feels like bliss upon her skin as she steps out of the Opera Epiclese, gentle rays drying the remaining water from the streets and the tears on her cheeks, and for the first time in five hundred years she breathes easy.

"They're still hoping you'll come." A familiar voice pulls her out of her trance. The Traveler, alone, stands behind her. Your presence is nowhere near. They look the same, yet different, without you within. Furina can't quite explain it, but it feels odd after being so used to seeing you within the outlander.

"I'm not an Archon." She answers, a certain bitterness in her voice as she looks down, defeated.

"I don't think they care. I know you need to rest for now, and they don't have enough primos for a ten pull anyways, but... just so you know. They'll keep trying."

Furina doesn't quite know whether that is meant as a warning or as an opportunity presenting itself. They're gone before she can ask. Either way, they're right - she is tired, and she does need rest. Out of instinct, she heads to the Palais Mermonia, but stops herself as she reaches for the door.

"Lady Furina." The gentle, deep voice she knows as belonging to the Iudex pulls her from her thoughts. She doesn't dare look him in the eye. He opens the door for her, but she simply turns away. She cannot face him, not after that trial, not after everything she'd done.

"Thank you, monsieur Neuvillette. But I... I think I'll be going, now."

The now fully restored Hydro Dragon can only watch as Furina walks away. He knows she needs her space right now, but that doesn't stop him from worrying for her. He'll arrange the best apartment he can get for her, and make sure she never lacks for anything. In the meantime, though, he'll just try not to let his emotions get the best of him, lest he causes a downpour to fall upon poor Furina, who definitely does not need rain right now. If there is one thing he knows about humans is that rain does not, for the most part, cheer them up. So he holds it in, promising himself that he'll take a small break for a walk after the aftermath of everything is over, and heads to his office.

There is so much to do...

_________

Three weeks pass. Furina lays on her bed, her window open, the soft breeze bringing the smell of a night that promises rain into the apartment. She is busy, not with work, or with renovations, but with the azure glass sphere that she holds up to the light, examining it under her lamp. A Vision... during all those years, she had never thought she'd receive such a thing, much less after being pushed away from her role as the Archon. She is thankful, yes, for her newfound freedom, and, she supposes, for the fact that she'd gotten to act again. But it still remains that this bauble was completely unexpected.

Power. This little thing can give her power. She's still unsure on how to use it, and it crosses her mind that the Traveler - or you - might know. You owe her, after all, after what she did to help you out with the play... she could feel you trying to strangle the Traveler and Paimon on the astral plane and that was perhaps why she wasn't entirely offended by their remarks. Still, she had made a great effort for that play. It was only fair that at least one of you repays the favor, no?

Furina smiles softly, sighing. She'll have to put up a commission at the Guild tomorrow.

She examines the light reflecting within, and it reminds her of the surface of the sea as seen from underwater. The holder, a silvery ornament not unlike those she's seen worn by Vision-bearers, has a distinct characteristic - four fang-like details that seem to secure the glass in place. Before she can give it more thought, the first pitter patter of raindrops reaches her ears, and she rushes to retrieve the clothes hanging on the line she has in the small balcony of her apartment before they get too wet. She rushes outside, hearing as the rain and wind pick up.

"Damn it, damn it, damn it..." She mutters to herself, quickly shoving the clothes onto a basket, trying to pick them off the line as fast as she can. Behind her, a flash of light illuminates the night sky. "Oh, I am so not in the mood for thunder..."

Furina cringes, hoping the storm is not directly above. Maybe she'll be able to sleep if it's just a faraway rumbling. What she hears, however, is not the booming sound of a storm.

Furina. Come home.

You're still trying. For a moment, she forgets about the heavy rain, and the clothes, and simply looks up at the sky. Blue flashes, one after the other, cross the clouds in rapid succession. Even after everything, you hadn't given up. The Traveler had warned her, but at the time she hadn't been in a stable enough state of mins to even care, still shaken from everything that had happened.

Now, she simply looks up.

"Overseer." She answers. You won't be able to add her to the 'Archon Team'. She knows she's not as powerful as most of your Vessels - hell, she doesn't even know how to use her Vision yet. But you still want her.

You know the truth - the whole truth - and you still want her.

The next star that crosses the sky turns gold, and glows brighter and brighter until it lands in front of her, hovering above the railing on her balcony. It emits a soft, warm light, and Furina reaches for it like she'd reached for her Vision.

Warmth spreads over her body, and it feels like every time she'd looked at the Traveler with you in them, except everything feels more... intense. It's not like she's seeing the filtered bits of you that shine through the cracks in someone else, no. She can feel you directly, and she understands why they call it 'coming home'. It's warm. It's comfortable. And for the first time she can truly, honestly say she doesn't feel alone.

You're happy she's there. Time seems to stop around her, and she finds herself dry and in a field full of stars. If she squints, she can barely make out a form, a swirling swarm of stardust in the vague shape of a person. She reaches a hand out.

You place the cursor over her outstretched hand.

Welcome home, Furina.

#heavy self indulgent vibes on this one y'all #FINALLY this one was in the drafts for so long istg #also you will pry neuvillette caring about furina from my cold dead hands udc what sort of relationship they have HE CARES ABOUT HER #furina deserves sm better #PLEASE let yourself be taken care of furina we love you #yes i hc it rained after furina moved away from the palais mermonia #sagau #genshin sagau #self aware genshin au #genshin impact sagau #sagau overseer #sagau furina #man i really need to write happier stuff. theres always someone sad i wonder if this says smth about me

[pink-amethyst-tarot]

💌A Message From The Universe💌

P I L E 1 ~ P I L E 2 ~ P I L E 3

How to pick: Take a deep breath and choose between the three images above. It corelates with the message that is meant for you. Trust your intuiton; only you know what is truly best for you.

P I L E 1 ♡ ~ A New Perspective

Ten of Wands, The High Priestess, The Emperor, The Moon, Eight of Swords (Reversed)

You feel burdened. You feel disconnected from yourself and your intuition. I feel that the man problem, is that you don't trust yourself or your inner voice. Let that voice guide you. Listen to yourself because you know what is best for you. You don't have to listen to everyone who thinks they know what is best for you. With it being the holiday season and Christmas is days away, you may be around family that isn't all that supportive of you and what you want with your life. They have put you down since you were a kid but know that you are not that kid anymore. You are capable of standing on your own two feet and it's time to stop making excuses for their bad behavior. You don't have to keep that kind of negative energy in your life, even if they are your relatives. Just because they are blood related, doesn't mean you have to call them family. For a lot of you, this person is a father figure in your life, but they haven't treated you the way that a father should. You were a kid and you deserved better then, and you deserve better now. Your anxiety around this is very loud but you know what you want to do more than anything. You know what path you want to take, and you know what people you want to cut off. Let yourself be happy. Go into this new year prioritizing your wants, needs, desires, hopes and dreams. It's time someone chose you and who better than yourself. Open up your heart and your mind to new possibilities; a world where you can have what you want. It's time for a new perspective.

Channeled Song: I'm Tired by Labrinth ft. Zendaya

now the tide is rollin' in // I don't wanna win // let it take me, let it take me // I'll be on my way // how long can I stay // in a place that can't contain me // hey Lord, you know, I'm tired // hey, Lord, you know I'm tired //

if you feel called to tip, you can on c@sh@pp at $oddlycozycottage and on p@yp@l at @oddlycozycottage

If you want a more personal reading, you can see how to book a reading here

P I L E 2 ♡

King of Pentacles, Seven of Cups (Reversed), Four of Wands (Reversed), Nine of Wands, Ace of Pentacles

You have been doing some spring cleaning around your life. You have been making changes that you saw needed to be made and it has really brought you back to reality; almost like you are sobering up. You could also be on a sobriety journey and if you are, know that I am very proud of you and I'm rooting for you. If no one else is in your corner, know that I am. You have been doing a lot of hard work and you should be celebrating yourself but, for some reason, you aren't. You may have this mindset of believing that you can't celebrate because there is so much more work to do. That may be true; we are all works in progress. That doesn't mean you shouldn't celebrate and be proud of how far you have come! I'm so very proud of how far you have come. You're looking at all that you still have to do, but you aren't paying attention to what you have done. You can rest, relax and bask in your victories. Take a break because you have earned it. You are meant to be prosperous, and you have new opportunities coming in and you should be confident in taking them because you worked hard to get them. Again, I am so proud of you and all that you have done. Keep going and do not give up.

Channled Song: A Brand New Day by The Wiz Cast

everybody, be glad // because our fear and dread is gone // freedom, you see, has got our hearts singing so joyfully // just look about // you out it to yourself to check it out // can you feel a brand new day? // can you feel a brand new day? //

if you feel called to tip, you can on c@sh@pp at $oddlycozycottage and on p@yp@l at @oddlycozycottage

If you want a more personal reading, you can see how to book a reading here

P I L E 3 ♡

The Star (Reversed), Two of Pentacles, Four of Swords, The High Priestess, Ace of Pentacles

Your head is not in the right place, right now. You are too focused on the negative and it seems that you have lost hope. You're working to balance things on your own and that is only making things harder for you. You may feel like you're at sea and the boat going up and down with the harsh waves. Let go of the things that you don't need and ask for help with the things that you cannot. I'm getting that you are very overwhelmed at this time. I'm seeing juggling and everyone keeps adding more and more balls, making it so hard to keep up. You don't have to take it. You are allowed to rest and to have some peace and quiet. You may be feeling like you can't take a break right now because, if you don't do it who will? I'll counter that with, why was it set up for you to be the only one who is able to handle things? Why is it you or nobody? Why can't people do it themselves? Sometimes, you just have to say, "if I have to do it, it's not going to get done," and that's that on that. You know that these people are capable and able. They just know they can rely on you to always do it. Stop being reliable. They need to learn to do things on their own and without you because you are not going to always be there.

I don't have a specific channeled song, but I am seeing vacations, beaches and just relaxing, which you deserve, so if you can get that, I suggest that you do.

if you feel called to tip, you can on c@sh@pp at $oddlycozycottage and on p@yp@l at @oddlycozycottage

If you want a more personal reading, you can see how to book a reading here

LEGAL DISCLAIMER: FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY. THESE READINGS ARE FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY. no guarantees are implied. These readings are not a substitute or replacement for any professional help or services. My readings are not a substitute for any form of professional legal, medical/psychiatric, relationship, religious/spiritual or financial/ business advice nor consultations. You should always see a professional legal/trained adviser for help in any matter. I am not responsible for any decisions/ actions you take.

#pick a card #pick a pile #pick a photo #pick a picture #pick an image #pac #pap #pac reading #pap reading #pink amethyst tarot #tarot #tarot reading #tarotblr #free tarot reading #tarot community #collective message #collective reading #free tarot #pink amethyst #225 #525 #111 #1111 #212 #888 #999 #777 #445 #678 #1234

[asteriaas-stuffs]

Self hypnosis to enter void.

Self-hypnosis is a naturally occurring state of mind which can be defined as a heightened state of focused concentration. With it, you can change your thinking, kick bad habits, and take control of the person you are—along with relaxation and destressing from everyday life. It's similar to meditation and results in a better you.

How to apply self hypnosis.

Get into comfortable clothing. It's pretty hard entering any kind of deep, relaxed state when all you can think about is the waistband of your jeans cutting off your circulation. So take this as an excuse to throw on some sweats. You want absolutely nothing distracting you.

Make sure the temperature is good, too. Have a blanket or a sweater ready if you run on the chilly side. Sometimes feeling warm can be very comforting, too.

Although some people prefer to lie down, you are more susceptible to sleep than when sitting up. Whether you sit or lie, ensure that you do not cross your legs or any part of your body. You may be in this position for a while and this could end up being uncomfortable.

No self-hypnosis is effective if it gets interrupted by a phone call, a pet, or a kid. Turn off your phone (and the alerts), lock the door, and sequester yourself. This is you time.

The amount of time you want to dedicate to this is up to you. Most prefer to be in a trance (we try to avoid that phrase as it has certain...err...negative connotations) for about 15 or 20 minutes, but you should also allow time to get in and out of it, too.

Figure out your hypnosis goals. Are you doing it just to relax? For self-improvement? To train your brain? If you're doing it to achieve a greater end (weight loss, void), prepare a list of affirmations. Self-hypnosis can be used just for relaxation, sure, but it can be for a number of life-enhancing things, too. Many use it to achieve their goals, change their thinking, or just as general positive reinforcement or motivation. Here are some examples of affirmations you could try: I'm capable of letting go everything that's stopping me to connect myself from my higher self or you can use void Affirmation you prefer .

Entering hypnosis

Close your eyes and work to rid your mind of any feelings of fear, stress, or anxiety. When you begin, you might find it difficult not to think. You may find that thoughts keep intruding. When this happens, don't try to force the thoughts out. Observe them impartially, and then let them slip away.

Alternatively, some like to pick a point on the wall and focus on it. It could be the corner, it could be a smudge, it could be wherever you want it to be. Focus on the point, concentrating on your eyelids. Repeat to yourself that they're getting heavier and heavier and let them close when you cannot keep them open anymore.

Recognize the tension in your body. Beginning with your toes, imagine the tension slowly falling away from your body and vanishing. Imagine it freeing each body part one at a time starting with your toes and working its way up your body. Visualize each part of your body becoming lighter and lighter as the tension is removed.

Relax your toes, then your feet. Continue with your calves, thighs, hips, stomach and so on, until you've relaxed each portion, including your face and head. Using imagery techniques of something you find comforting or soothing, such as water (feel the water rushing over your feet and ankles, cleansing them of tension) can be effective as well.

Take slow, deep breaths. When you exhale, see the tension and negativity leaving in a dark cloud. As you inhale, see the air returning as a bright force filled with life and energy.

At this point, you can use visualization as you so choose. Think of a lemon and cut it in half in your mind. Imagine the juices oozing out and getting over your fingers. Place it in your mouth. What's your reaction? How does it feel, taste, and smell? Then, move onto more meaningful visions. Imagine your bills blowing away in the breeze. Imagine you running off those pounds. Get as detailed as possible. Always think of your five senses.

Appreciate the fact that you are now extremely relaxed. Imagine you are at the top of a flight of 10 stairs which at the fifth step start to submerge into water. Picture every detail of this scene from the top to the bottom. Tell yourself that you are going to descend the stairs, counting each step down, starting at 10. Picture each number in your mind. Imagine that each number you count is further down and one step closer to the bottom. After each number, you will feel yourself drifting further and further into deep relaxation.

As you take each step, imagine the feel of the step under your feet. Once you are at the fifth step imagine and truly feel the refreshing coolness of the water and tell yourself that you are stepping into an oasis of purity and cleanliness. As you begin to descend the last five steps, start to feel the water getting higher and higher up your body. You should now start to feel somewhat numb and your heart will start to race a bit, but notice it and let any qualms about the situation just drift away into the water.

Feel a floating sensation.

Repeat your affirmation to yourself as many times as you wish.

And after some minutes you're on the void boom . You can use any mediation short ones beforehand to focus or use any subliminal i would suggest lotsumi and Arabella subliminal .

#void state #law of assumption #affirm and persist #subconscious #affirmyourreality #i am god #manifestation

[t3a-tan]

Number 37 for any oc/ ocs??

37) “Oh God, I almost crushed you!”

A little out of nowhere, but here it is ^^ Human Oliver finds borrower Tanner. Both of them are confused about why their cousin is so big/small. Enjoy!

---

Time had passed since Oliver's experiences with the borrowers, and although he was still following his usual routine he had started leaving out little bits of food every morning just to help out. The borrower, James, seemed capable of looking after himself, but he could help himself to whatever Oliver left out too.

Although he was intrigued by the man and oddly drawn to him, he also knew that the borrower was still quite uncomfortable around him due to the size difference and general rules of his culture. Oliver wasn't offended by that at all; whatever made his housemate the most comfortable was fine with him.

He found his eyes instinctively drawn to the floor more than they had been before— checking to ensure the man wasn't within his path. It had taken some correcting to remind himself that James was not foolish enough to move within his path without speaking up… now he was able to keep that urge mostly contained.

This backfired immediately, though not in the way he expected.

This time Oliver had been in deep thought about an email he needed to write, already pre-preparing it in his head as he made his way towards his office with a fresh cup of tea. Because he was so focused he didn't even notice that something had suddenly entered his path until he heard a cry.

Oliver froze when he heard the sound from below, bristling in surprise and all of his thoughts coming to a standstill. It took him a few moments to get his thoughts back in order to realise the cry came from…directly below. Oliver took a step back the moment he realised that, dropping to a crouch as his expression took on an edge of concern and guilt.

“Oh God, I almost crushed you! Are you alright, James?” He fretted, placing the cup of tea down on the floor beside the tiny man only to notice… It wasn't James at all. So many borrowers… how have I never met one until recently? “You’re not James…”

Upon making that observation, the figure looked up and Oliver blanched at the odd sight. He had thought it was just black clothing, but the boy was completely void of colour; his only distinguishable features being tear-filled eyes and a parted mouth. They had little wisps of black coming from them… like a living shadow.

Still, they were in distress because of him. Whether they were a borrower or something else, he still almost stepped on them…

“I apologise. It must have been very startling to see someone like me get so close… Take some deep breaths, alright? You're safe.” Oliver moved from a crouch to a kneel and rested his hands on his lap as he leaned down to be closer to eye-level with the tiny shadow. Once the echoey sniffles had stopped and they seemed to be calming down, Oliver opened his mouth to speak again only to be interrupted by the shadowy figure suddenly running towards his face and hugging his nose.

Oliver blinked in bewilderment at the gesture. Are they that thankful that I avoided stepping on them..? Or perhaps… The noises coming from the tiny shadow were very child-like. Another child? Poor thing… I wonder why they were out in the open. Did James know about them?

He moved his hands slowly to cradle the tiny figure, who quickly latched onto a finger instead once they were available, nuzzling their face into his fingertip in such a way that even a composed man like Oliver almost cooed. He cleared his throat instead though, averting his gaze awkwardly. It’s not a good sign for a child to attach to strangers this easily… abandonment? Or perhaps—

“O-Ollie…” The tiny child’s voice was unstable like a radio that kept losing signal, warbling and wavering unnaturally. Even so, Oliver heard very clearly what they said…he even recognized their manner of saying it. He stared down at the tiny child for a few more moments only for his eyes to widen as he realised that he could recognize them.

That's impossible… But it sounds just like him.

The child was trembling, shuddering and scared; as if they had just come from seeing something traumatising. They buried their face into his thumb as they continued to grasp onto it with fingers that seemed impossibly minuscule.

“Tanner..?”

Oliver felt a heavy feeling settle in his stomach the more he wondered how his little cousin had ended up like this. Three years ago he was a happy and normal sized child; now he was tiny and…. different. His brows furrowed and he leaned in closer to the tiny boy, unsure whether to cry or cheer or anything at all.

The boy nodded slowly as he continued to keep his face hidden in Oliver's thumb. The confirmation made tears appear in Oliver's eyes before he could do much to compose himself, and before he knew it he was picking the boy up and cradling him to his chest in a makeshift hug.

“Hey hey hey…. You're alright. You're.. you're alive. I— Don't worry, I'll protect you. I'm sorry…” Oliver wasn't considering his words before speaking like he usually would; causing him to sound disjointed and anxious. That wasn't far from the truth though… thinking about what might have happened to his cousins whilst they were missing was painful enough, but seeing the effects firsthand?

It was soul shattering.

“S-so…big…” The boy murmured shakily, the shadows beginning to disappear and his normal features returning. He was wearing a hospital gown or sorts, and his hair was now blonde instead of the dark brown it used to be. Oliver was so preoccupied in watching the change that he almost missed the meek voice.

“Yes. Yes… I'm big. But that's alright, it doesn't mean I'll hurt you. I promise that you're safe in my hands…” The man was quick to reassure, recognising the fear present in his cousin's stammers. It was understandable. A kidnapping victim was bound to be shaken up after escaping. That did make him wonder though… “How did you get here, Tanner..?”

The tiny boy finally pulled his face away from his thumb, lip trembling. He looked up at Oliver and the man was struck by the fact that Tanner’s eyes were just pools of black. It was wrong. Something was very wrong. Who did this? He couldn't ask the boy such a question so suddenly, so he took a deep breath to contain his anger.

“I…I d-don’t know… In the dark. Very dark… Scary… A-alone…” Tanner began to explain, the echoes in his voice still there but much less than when he had been surrounded by shadow. The boy began to shake more as he recounted his experience and so Oliver began to carefully stroke his head with his thumb. Tanner had always liked having his hair stroked when he was younger, and as the boy leaned into it Oliver knew he must still enjoy that touch now.

Taking a moment to gather himself again, Tanner took a deep breath and wiped at the black tears that had spilled over.

“Don't know.. don't know how long I-I was… there… A-and then I was here…” He stammered, fidgeting with the hem of the hospital gown he was dressed in. Oliver's brows furrowed in confusion. He just…appeared?

“Did you fall asleep?” He asked, receiving a shake of the head in response. Oliver let out a small hum of contemplation. That was odd… But also, whatever happened to Tanner was clearly supernatural in some sense anyway because of his eyes and changing forms. Oliver wasn't qualified to know these things…in fact, he was feeling quite shaken about his knowledge of the world already and now that had only increased.

“Why….why are you a-a human…?”

Oliver bristled at that question. Why would Tanner ask a question like that? He had always been human… Tanner had been too up until he was taken. Unless…

“What else would I be?” He asked, still gentle and reassuring with all of his movements and his tone of voice. It didn't matter what Tanner ended up responding with, Oliver would keep him safe regardless. Whatever the situation was, it might be confusing, but it was clear that this was his cousin in some capacity.

“B…borrower…” The boy responded, voice meeker as he seemed to recognize that Oliver was actually a human and not a borrower. That gave him some pause again… was Tanner a borrower? Was he shrunk and now called himself that? But then why would he think Oliver would also be one?

Oliver shook his head softly, but continued to pet the boy’s head soothingly.

“I’m afraid not. But I am Oliver Oakwood. And you're Tanner Brighton?” He was curious to see if that was still the case, should Tanner be a borrower. A borrower version of his cousins… did that mean there was a borrower version of himself? How odd. Maybe there’s a human James somewhere…

The tiny boy shook his head again, wiping at his eyes. He hesitated briefly before responding.

“I-I’m Tanner Button. My cousin is also O-Oliver Oakwood though… but he's… a-a borrower.” Tanner explained squeakily, and Oliver had to take a moment to think over what that could mean. Was this Tanner from an alternate universe or was he from this universe? As unlikely as it seemed, the first idea was also the most plausible…

Oliver's thoughts were interrupted by a small whine.

“Are…you going to h-hurt me…?” Tanner asked, trembling again as he spoke, his security shaken as he realised that Oliver was not a borrower like him. Oliver's expression softened and he raised his hands slightly just so he could be at eye level with the young boy.

“There's nothing in the world that could make me hurt you. Whether you're my Tanner or not, I wouldn't harm even a single hair on your head…” He assured before kissing his pinkie and gently pressing it against Tanner's forehead. The boy bristled slightly at the gesture and brushed his own tiny hand against the area, clearly touch-starved. Oliver smiled reassuringly. “I'm sure your Oliver is worried sick about you. Until I can get you to him, I'll keep you safe…”

Lowering his hand back down to chest level, Oliver picked up his cup of tea in his free hand before standing back up, email forgotten.

“If it helps at all, I've met other borrowers before. There was a boy named Marcus who got separated from his parents so I returned him to his home, and there's a man named James who lives here in our walls.” Oliver could recognize that Tanner was still worried, so hopefully listening to him talk would give him time to sort his nerves out. He began to walk back towards the kitchen, setting his cup down on the island before walking up to the fridge.

“Are blackberries your favourite too, Button?” He asked with a smile, the name slipping out without much thought. Tanner's face lit up, eyes widening a fraction before he tilted his head.

“B-Button…?”

“Think of it as a nickname… To differentiate you and the version of you that is from this world. Is that…alright? Or would you rather I just call you Tanner..?” Oliver took the blackberries out from the fridge, brows furrowing with concern over whether he might have made his tiny cousin feel uncomfortable without thinking. He approached the island again, starting to lower his hand.

“You can…you can c-call me Button…!” The boy warbled with an edge of enthusiasm that was very thinly veiling desperation. For approval, for attention. Oliver let his hand rest on the island, opening his mouth to speak only for Tanner to speak first in a begging tone. “P-please don't put me down… I don't want to be alone. I don't want to go back… no no no…”

Oliver's fingers twitched and his concern grew as he saw the panic suddenly entering the boy’s body language. He was hugging himself, trembling again and black tendrils began to form over his skin once more.

“Okay. I won't put you down until you're ready… You're not alone. I'm here, alright? You're not going anywhere you don't want to…” Oliver cupped his hands together, rubbing Tanner's back and bringing him up to his chest again. He hugged him close once more, gently shushing the trembling boy. “Deep breaths… You’re safe here with me…”

Slowly but surely the borrower began to calm down, the shadows disappearing once more. Oliver made a note to himself that Tanner was touch-starved more than he had initially realized and to communicate his intentions fully and directly before attempting to lessen contact again. He also wasn't going to use the nickname again until he was certain that Tanner was actually okay with it and not agreeing to it out of fear.

What happened? What sort of torture has this poor kid been through..? What are my cousins going through…?

Once the tears had stopped Tanner sniffled and wiped at his eyes with the edges of his now black-stained hospital gown. Oliver's expression softened and his eyes held a subdued sadness in them.

“If…if you're gonna give m-me a nickname… what should your one be..? Since u-um… since your name's the same. A-as my cousin, I mean…” The boy stuttered, and Oliver took the change of subject as a sign that he wasn't as on edge as before. Hopefully… He hummed in thought.

“Well… maybe Doctor? It's my title. I'm not sure if borrowers have the same titles as humans do.” He offered, only to pause when he recognized that Tanner had suddenly gone very still. He brushed the kid’s hair from his face with his pinkie, attempting to coax a response from him. “Are you feeling quite alright?”

“D-doctor… doctors are bad… they— they hurt borrowers, they take us apart a-and they— no… you're not a doctor. O-Ollie wouldn't do that…” The shadows returned almost immediately, consuming the boy and leaving him as an indistinguishable dark figure once again. The colours of his eyes and mouth flipped to white once more as frightened tears streamed down. “Y-you promised… You said you wouldn't h-hurt me… You promised..!”

Before Oliver could even begin to process what was being said, Tanner attempted and failed to jump from his hands. He swiftly brought his hands up to eye level, concern now very clear in his expression, distressed by the outburst and by the implications of the boy’s words.

“I do promise. I'm— I have a doctorate in psychology. Either way, I wouldn't hurt you…” It took a lot to maintain a gentle and reassuring tone and Oliver tried his best to ensure his own worry didn't cause him to raise his voice at all. He felt his heart break again as he saw how panicked and helpless Tanner looked from within his cupped hands. “What…happened to you…?”

Alarmingly, Tanner's form suddenly began to distort before disappearing entirely, causing Oliver to panic for a brief moment until he saw the boy was on the island. It didn't seem like he knew what had happened either as the moment he realised he was no longer being held by anyone he began to wail— not with despair though… he was terrified. Oliver felt tears prick the corners of his vision but he had to keep calm.

It was hard. This situation wasn't normal and as much as psychology was his strong suit it was so much harder to keep himself in check when his family was involved. He didn't know what to do.

“I-I'm sorry— I-I'm sorry, you can hurt me..!” Oliver's face fell.

“I..I don't want to—”

He was interrupted immediately; Tanner wasn't really listening…

“Please don't go— I-I don't want to be alone!”

“You're not alone, Tanner, I—” Oliver spoke with more urgency this time, but Tanner continued to spiral.

“Y-you can hurt me! I-I won't move so please—”

“Tanner!” Oliver couldn't help but raise his voice slightly then, desperate for the boy to stop. It hurt to hear. It hurt to know.

The boy finally snapped out of it, though he was startled by the sudden loudness of Oliver's voice to the point that his tears started immediately after processing it. He curled up, burying his blackened face in his shadowy arms. Oliver was hesitant, but soon ran a finger up and down the kid’s back again. He didn't know what to say… so he didn't speak.

There was a tune that had been stuck in his mind since he was young. He couldn't remember where he heard it, only knowing that it was some sort of lullaby. He remembered it so clearly and yet he knew none of the words and had no vivid memories that featured it. Even so, his cousins had always been receptive towards the song and so he started to hum it.

He leaned in close, cupping his hands behind Tanner as he continued to stroke his back. After the shadows over his form began to fade and his tears slowed again, Oliver still found it a little difficult to speak. He couldn't afford to go nonverbal though, and so as much as he was struggling to form a sentence he kept trying.

“No nicknames… You're Tanner and I'm Oliver, okay?” Oliver forced it out before letting out a small sigh after, finding that his mind was still racing enough to make the room spin. He had to keep his composure… for Tanner's sake. Oliver shakily wiped a tear from his eye again before speaking. “I should have been there to help you. Maybe if I had been there you wouldn't have been taken…”

It was then that Tanner actually noticed how emotional Oliver was over the situation. It was startling; his Oliver had never been very expressive. He had never seen him cry— though he didn't see him that much anyway since he was moving out just as Tanner was turning 5 years old. He sniffled, still looking up at the giant man with a sense of guilt and awe.

“The thought of you and Sammy suffering all alone… I… It's awful. You shouldn't have had to suffer.” Oliver shook his head solemnly before meeting his gaze. “I’m sorry. There are some truly evil people in this world— but I will not let them so much as think of you again.”

Even if this was not the Tanner from his universe, Oliver's compassion wouldn't allow him to see this Tanner in any other way besides family. This was different to finding James or Marcus. This was his cousin. This was someone who had been forced to endure things no human or borrower should. He was still a child.

And still alive.

Oliver's eyes widened and he bristled, sitting up before glancing around the room as if he might spot something out of the ordinary. “Is.. is Sammy with you? Is she okay?” He needed to assure her of her own safety immediately— Tanner was the most trusting of the two which meant there was no doubt she would be terrified of him.

It hurt to imagine; Oliver would never hurt his cousins, whether they were from this universe or another. But they didn't know that… maybe Tanner was starting to understand.

Oliver focused on the boy again when he felt a minute touch against one of his fingers. He relaxed, realising how tense he was and not wanting to accidentally frighten anyone further. He almost forgot that he had asked a question, but was stricken when Tanner shook his head.

“S-she… I don't know how long… they— they injected me with something a-and then it went dark… but I wasn't asleep. I don't know…” He trailed off, still meek and unsure of himself in the situation, but also trying to give Oliver some trust. “I-I saw her before. She was…alive.. u-um. In the cage…”

Despite his efforts, some of Oliver's fury managed to seep through into his gaze at the mention of a cage. He averted his eyes momentarily, brows furrowing with upset.

“A cage. How barbaric…” He murmured, before taking a deep breath and calming himself back down. He looked at Tanner once more, and despite all the rage and despair buzzing under his skin he managed to offer a smile, petting the boy’s head.

“Okay. You should eat and drink something… I'll wash up these blackberries, alright?” He gathered Tanner up into one hand, cupping it and continuing to stroke his hair with his index finger. Simultaneously he poured some blueberries into a colander, carrying it to the sink and washing the blackberries off in the sink. Once they were clean he poured them into a bowl and set the bowl down on the island.

Oliver sat down at the island counter, continuing to cradle Tanner in his palm as he worked as he knew that the boy wouldn't take well to being put down. He picked up a blackberry and brought it over to the little borrower, offering it to him with a soothing smile.

“Go ahead. Eat your fill. I'll focus on finding your sister…” He could sense the hesitation in Tanner's movements but was relieved to see him take the berry despite that. I'll keep you safe. I'm sorry I didn't do a good enough job at that before.

As the boy ate it became clear how tired he was. After the third berry along with Oliver's gentle touch, Tanner fell into a deep sleep curled up in Oliver's warm palms. Oliver didn't move for a while after, just watching; scared that if he did anything his cousin would disappear.

I should probably talk to James...

#g/t community #ocs #g/t artist #ask box #g/t #g/t writer #borrowers #oc asks #ask #g/t art #g/t fluff #sfw g/t #g/t writing #giant/tiny #gentle giant #giant/tiny writing #g/t prompts

[deathbyathousandspiders]

hello!! ive been scrolling thru ur work and i am instantly obsessed. can i request a meet cute of peter? :( maybe they meet post nwh and she’s like wanda and she’s doing lessons w strange like america chavez 🥹 something like that :D thank u!

do u also happen to have a masterlist? i’d love to read more of ur work ure really amazing! ❤️‍🔥

you’re so sweet!! i just published my masterlist and pinned it :)

but here’s the link too !!

✨masterlist✨.

this is just a quick lil blurb :,) i hope you like it !!

800+.

The chill of winter rushed down your spine, causing a subtle shiver to follow along your goosebumps. You should’ve known that the old ass windows of the Sanctum would be drafty, but the view of New York covered in snow was somehow a sight you couldn’t pull your focus from. It was breathtaking.

Strange trusted you to house–sit the Sanctum Sanctorum while he and Wong went out to visit Kamar–Taj. It was a little day trip for them, so you didn’t mind the task. Besides, it was the least you could do to make it up to Dr. Strange for letting you stay there. You couldn’t exactly remember how you’d lost your family, but alas, it brought you here anyways. You were left lonesome, with powers you could barely summon on command.

He was training you on your telekinesis abilities, and giving you sanctuary from the blistering wind–chill outside. Watching the Sanctum for a few hours felt like a reasonable task for you to take on. You were more than capable of protecting it.

The sound of the doorbell stirred you from your people watching, immediately grounding you from your thoughts while you trekked down the steps. The doorbell rang again just before you got to the large door, opening it with a slight twinge of irritation. All your annoyance melted away when you realized who had disrupted the peaceful afternoon.

A boy, roughly your age, stood on the steps in front of you. He looked at you doe–eyed. Stunned. It seemed like you both anticipated a greeting from different people. His brown eyes pierced your soul, making a mental note to remind you that you had to see them again. His hands dug into the pockets of his winter coat, hesitant to break the silence.

“Is, uh- Is Dr. Strange here?” He asked, voice on the verge of breaking. It almost seemed like he was too scared to hear the answer.

Your head turned into the building, about to call out for the doctor before you realized how much of an idiot you were for forgetting. “Um, no. Sorry, he’s out today.” Your brows creased, feeling a little sympathetic. You weren’t sure why your powers were picking up his energy so adamantly, but his energy was something that drew you in. “Do you want me to deliver a message?”

It seemed like your words carried a weight that only he knew the gravity of. He suddenly seemed lighter. Hopeful. “I, umm.. No, that’s okay.” He turned on his heel, stepping down the steps again. “Thanks anyways–”

“Wait.” You cut him off. You couldn’t figure out why, but you didn’t want him to go. Part of you knew he was more significant than he was leading on. A part of him lived in the barren sanctum walls, and you knew it. “What’s your name?” A small smile touched your lips, “I’ll let him know you stopped by.”

The boy froze dead in his tracks. It was almost like you’d said something wrong. Shit. Doe eyes turned into the stare of a deer in headlights. He didn’t seem to know what to do.

Your brows creased a little more, concernment sewn in the crevasse this time. “Are you okay?” He didn’t reply. He didn’t even move. You weren’t sure why he started malfunctioning, but you knew you had to do something.

“Maybe it’ll help if I tell you my name first?” Even you didn’t sound too sure, but this was better than nothing. You leaned into the doorframe more, trying to present yourself in less of an intimidating way. “I’m Y/N.”

You watched him mimicking the deep breath you took, easing into his posture. He gained some color back, and found his way back to his body. A nervous smile tickled the corners of his mouth with a breathy laugh, awkwardly glancing down at his boots.

“Sorry..” He spoke amid the anxious laugh, scratching the back of his neck. “It’s nice to meet you, Y/N.” His smile grew at the way your name fit with his voice. “I’m, uh.. Peter Parker.” It was like his name was some forbidden tongue. Getting it out seemed to lift the weight stuck on his shoulders though. “My name’s Peter Parker.”

Smiling back at him, you stood upright. “Well, Peter Parker, it’s nice to meet you too.” You sent a reassuring nod in his direction. “I’ll be sure to let the doctor know you stopped by.” Your brow arched at him, unable to shake the grin off your face. “Alright?”

Peter took steps away from the door, but kept his eyes on yours. “Thank you!” He beamed a little. It seemed to be the first light to hit the boy’s eyes in a while. “Happy holidays, Y/N.” He chimed, walking off into the street.

You hollered the same thing back in his direction before shutting the sanctum doors. You couldn’t quite dismiss the odd energy that your powers sensed from Peter, but it wasn’t a negative feeling. In fact, it was fascinating to you. And walking back to the drafty old window you’d been stuck at all day, you realized you wouldn’t be forgetting about Peter Parker anytime soon.

You hoped you’d be lucky enough to see him soon.

#🪷 .゜・ ˗ˏˋ ☾ ´ˎ˗ 𝕭𝐋𝐔𝐑𝐁𝐒. #🕊️ .゜・ ˗ˏˋ ☾ ´ˎ˗ 𝕰𝐋𝐋𝐄 𝕽𝐄𝐐. #marvel imagines #marvel mcu #mcu imagine #mcu peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker blurb #blurb #mcu #imagine #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland

[t3mpest98]

The Coruscant Detective Unit

This was really just a silly little idea I had a while ago and I ran with it. Anyways, I thought I’d share with the masses (tho not sure if anyone will see it akskdk) Be warned, it does contain my personal headcannons on the Corrie’s and their commanders

Shoutout to @varpusvaras who has enabled all of this and helped me figure many things out akdjfj

Commander: CC- 4477 “Thire”

Captains: CT- 6687 “Spade” and CT- 6799 “Noir”

The CDU is a secret unit of Coruscant Guard troopers living deep inside Coruscant. At the beginning of the war when the first clones were assigned to Coruscant, this unit did not exist. It was only about half a year into the war that it was even ever considered, only after the Commanders realized that the CSF handing off cases to them wasn’t just a once in a while thing. That combined with the unrest growing under the surface was something that would only continue to get worse, and eventually affect the Senate if the people down below grew restless enough.

With Fox already busy handling everything at once, overseeing everything that happens on Coruscant, he wasn’t able to be personally responsible for this unit. Thorn, practically being SIC while also handling most of the patrol duties, was also unable to take the responsibility. With Stone off world most of the time it wouldn’t make sense to have him handling a unit of troopers he would never get to see. Thire, being stationed over the prisons and the youngest, therefore having been kept from taking too much at once, offered to take care of it. And so it was decided that Thire would be their commanding officer.

Now the question was, where would they get the troopers? This unit wasn’t supposed to exist and any attempt at asking for it got shot down by Palpatine since “they did not have a need for one. They oversaw Senate security and nothing more”. They had to have multiple troopers to form this group so the process was slow, subtly sneaking troopers declared KIA down to the lower levels one at a time.

Thire can't be there at all times, or at all really, to directly lead any missions so he would need someone to help him. Luckily he had just the trooper for it. Or rather, he had the troopers for it. ARC twins Spade and Noir were then elevated to the status of Captain. The rest of the Guard knew about this but none of the GAR could. No one really wanted to deal with what would come out of that conversation.

Most of the unit's source of supplies comes from whatever they can steal, salvage, and buy (the last being rare). Anything they get from the Guard is used sparingly. With the limited resources all of them have to begin with, the last thing Spade and Noir want is to put more stress on their commander by making Thire figure out where they got everything they needed. They don’t complain even when the shinies get lightheaded or when breathing gets a little harder.

But when it comes to technology and some extra help outside of their capabilities they have a good friend made a couple months after this unit was formed. Her name is Kasai Cyra, a human from Corellia who’s really good at hiding and even better at putting together scrap. She lives on some of the deepest levels of Coruscant, why that is no one knows. She took one look at them and for some reason couldn’t ignore the fact they needed help.

These three combined are a chaotic mess that somehow are able to succeed more often than not. Of course every mission comes with its casualties that the twins have to bury down deep to keep themselves afloat. Neither can remember how long it had been since they’ve cried with how much they blocked out their emotions. Cyra isn’t much better but the main things she blocks out is the overwhelming helplessness. The fear that she’ll be found, that she’ll be killed, that she will lose everything if she isn’t careful enough.

The only way any of them do not get any terrible side effects from a vitamin d deficiency is by helping out those who run the circle of the supplements. In exchange they get gummies that are easier for the whole of the unit to eat (also Noir is picky). The masks they have to help them breathe down there aren’t really top notch either though. Basically everyone is barely surviving.

They (try) to keep as much peace down below as they can, whether that be by taking care of a group that needs to go or striking deals and helping out those that really need it. The entire unit knows that if they see a teenager stealing any kind of necessity on the street, no they didn’t. Life is hard enough for everyone down there as it is and they don’t want to make it worse for those less fortunate.

That’s all I’ll share for now (I have soooo much more but that can come out later after I am ready) but I hope you like it!

Taglist: @homemade-clones @kimiheartblade @the-bad-batch-baroness @thestarwarslesbian @the-toskaverse @techs-stitches @matchademi @shahrezaad @commander-sunshine @orange-twilek-guy @king-chaos-world @wackylurker @dukeoftheblackstar @kairakara101 @tazmbc1 @sunkissedclones @galaxyofjedi

#star wars #the clone wars #tempest’s ocs #the cdu #coruscant guard #corrie guard #corrie guard oc #oc: spade #oc: noir #oc: cyra/kasai #my ocs <3

[serenescribe]

hi hi Ell 👋 I wanted to send a prompt, so i hope youll find this one nice to think about :)

So we know in canon that Lilia trained Silver and Sebek while they were kids, and that his training was a bit unorthodox to say the least. We also know that Silver thinks the world of his father, that he feels indebted to him for life and that he'd give anything to repay that debt. With those facts I offer you a beloved scenario of mine where Lilia trains Silver and takes it too far but doesn't realise it until its too late.

Maybe he's making him spar, maybe he's asking him to do some insane physical effort, whatever it is he's determined to have Silver execute it perfectly. And Silver is tired, because he's like 12, he's been doing this since dawn and he barely ate any of the lunch his father made him (lets face it it wouldve been worse if he ate it). At this point his body is screaming at him to just stop and rest but he refuses to back down before he gives his father what he wants. The issue is that since he's not feeling his best, he's actually doing worse than he was at the beginning and Lilia of course notices. And maybe its the fact that this setting is similar to the one he was in back when he trained recruits as a general, or maybe he got frustrated that he couldnt manage to get him to do better but Lilia decides to try a different approach to motivate his son. He gets mean; taunting and berating Silver for not making any progress, telling him that maybe they should just stop his training altogether if this is the best he can do. But instead of getting fired up and angry like Lilia expected, like his recruits used to do, Silver completely breaks down. He slumps on the ground in front of him weeping, begging for just one more chance and promising he can do better. The mental and physical exhaustion weighs heavily on him and he swears he won't be a burden in future sessions, swears that he'll train day and night if need be to improve but he pleads his father not to give up on him. And Lilia, completely caught off guard by the situation, has to figure out how the hell to comfort his son and convince him that he didnt mean any of the words he spoke

hope you have a fun time writing bye bye!! 🌟

the way this prompt broke my heart when it first hit my inbox :') but at least it's hurt/comfort for once rather than flat out angst...? i hope i did it justice!

(also thank you to lacky my beloved for helping me with some dialogue bc oh my god writing mean dialogue killed me ;;; sobs)

Clang!

The sound of sword against sword reverberates through the air, accompanied by the haggard, weary sound of someone panting. Lilia narrows his eyes, his sword still outstretched, pressed against that of his opponent — his son, Silver, who is also his student.

Silver’s chest expands and contracts, lips parted as he sucks in another deep breath. The practice blade in his hand trembles before finally, he gives in. The sword drops to the ground below with a clatter.

“I yield,” Silver says, voice strained, dropping to his knees. He raises his arms, conceding in defeat.

But all Lilia can think, staring at his son before him, is that this is not good enough.

He knows what Silver is capable of, has been training his son by his own hands for the past few years. Silver shows plenty of promise, and it is up to Lilia to hone that potential to a perfect sheen, be it physical training or weaponry, such as the sword fights they practise so often. Lessons on survival, giving him tasks to complete in the elements. Things that Silver takes to like a duck to water, obediently heeding Lilia’s every word, carrying out his instructions with ease.

So to witness him concede so easily, dropping to the ground, averting his gaze as his body trembles?

Lilia is disappointed.

In a way, it reminds him of his days as the general during the wars he’d fought. There had been many a soldier who had not taken his instructions seriously, always putting in the bare minimum until he whipped them into shape. All he had to do was set his cold, calculating eyes on them, lips spouting cruel, judgemental words, before they’d be roaring to go. Pride is one of the things that the fair folk value deeply, after all, and back then, the many recruits under his command had not taken kindly to Lilia’s implications that they were as useful as the dirt under his heels.

And so Lilia opens his mouth, and says:

“If this is the best you can muster, then why bother?”

Silver stiffens.

“I’m disappointed, Silver. I’ve seen peasants with no training do better than this.” Lilia’s lips thin, a hand resting on his hip, practice sword still hanging from his other hand. “If you cannot even master the basics, how do you expect to get any better? No, better yet, how do you possibly expect to guard Malleus as his knight if this is the best you can do?”

Lilia’s eyes narrow as he drops into a crouch, arms folded across his knees as he meets his son’s wide eyes.

“I didn’t teach you to be this awful,” Lilia utters, voice entirely flat. “If this is the way you’re treating your training, then perhaps we ought to stop it altogether.” He curls his lip. “Is that not what you’d prefer, given your demeanour?”

Rising from the ground, Lilia holds out his sword, pointing the tip of the blunted blade towards his son’s crouching form.

“I shall allow you one last chance,” he breathes. “Pick up your sword, Silver. Get up now.”

Silver doesn’t respond.

Lilia clenches his teeth. “Pick it up!”

It is only then, when Silver uncurls himself to reach for the discarded blade at the side with trembling hands, that Lilia falters. He watches through widening eyes as Silver raises his head and, instead of the fiery enthusiasm and determination he saw so often in so many of his old soldiers, there is a watery desperation wavering in those big, auroral eyes. Silver’s lips tremble, his movements sluggish, and as he shoves himself onto his feet, Lilia realises—

Silver isn’t being lazy. He’s swaying from side to side, almost stumbling over his own feet, shaking uncontrollably as he raises his blade to meet Lilia’s own.

Oh, he realises, spotting something glistening along those rounded cheeks. Silver is crying.

In that instant, any trace of General Vanrouge, feared and renowned amidst those of the Valley, vanishes, dissipating in the blink of an eye. Left in its place is only Lilia Vanrouge, father of one.

His sword drops to the ground with a clatter. Lilia surges forward, any thoughts of training pushed squarely out of his mind as he wraps his hands around Silver’s shoulders, staring at him with his heart rattling against his chest. Shit, Lilia thinks. He’s well and truly fucked up now, hasn’t he?

“Silver,” Lilia starts, struggling for the words. What can he possibly say here? He reaches up, wipes away a stray tear that rolls down his son’s cheek. “Silver, you— you can drop your sword now.”

“No!” The outburst startles him, Silver’s usually quiet disposition interrupted by the force of his refusal. Silver all but collapses, pulling Lilia down with him; his knees buckle, and he hits the ground with a painful thud. Silver’s free hand reaches up to wipe at his tears to no avail. “I-I can do it! I can fight—”

“You can’t, Silver—”

“P-Please, just—” Hanging his head, Silver sobs brokenly, and it shatters something within Lilia. How had he not noticed all along, how absolutely exhausted Silver was? “J-Just give me one more chance,” his son begs, shaking his head. The grip on his sword loosens, causing the weapon to clatter to the ground. “I swear, I’ll train day and night to improve, I w-won’t be a burden anymore, please—”

“Silver,” Lilia repeats, voice firm, fingers curling tight around his son’s shoulders. He— he’s taken completely aback, caught off guard; he’d expected something akin to the fiery resolution of the soldiers of the past, not… not this.

Silver is twelve, a tiny part of Lilia remembers. His heart seizes again, a reminder that perhaps this time, he had gone way too far. Silver is young, and for Lilia to have treated him the way he would have treated a grown fae…

He’s not the general anymore. There’s no need for him to train Silver to such rigid standards.

Slowly, Lilia leans forward, wrapping his arms around Silver’s back. He pulls the sobbing boy against his chest, murmuring soft words under his breath in a bid to reassure him. And for a while, that’s all they do — Lilia, holding his son in his arms, ignoring the ache in his knees as he rubs Silver’s back gently, and Silver, who blubbers apologies and pleads for leniency until his begging collapses into crying, and he buries his head in the fabric of Lilia’s sweat-stained shirt.

Eventually, when Silver’s cries peter out into a sniffling silence, Lilia pulls away from him. He reaches out to cup his cheek, thumbing at the tearstained skin with a sad smile across his lips. “How do you feel now, dear?”

Silver bites his lip, eyes flicking away. He sniffles, before he mumbles, “I… I’m okay now, Father. I can fight.”

“I think we’ve had enough sparring for today, actually,” Lilia sighs wearily. When he sees the way Silver stiffens at his words, he adds, “That is a decision made on my account, not yours. I am not disappointed in you, Silver. Far from it; I am only disappointed in myself for not noticing how exhausted you are… far more than usual, anyway.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologise,” Lilia chides, though his tone is light. He exhales. “I think we should perhaps clean up for the day. And then I’ll see to dinner, hm?”

“I’ll help you!” Silver blurts out, a little shakily, and Lilia smiles. Even after everything, Silver is still so willing to help… Truly, Lilia would not have faulted him at all if he would have liked to take some time to himself, especially after he so carelessly spouted such cruel words towards his son.

As Lilia rises to his feet, holding out a hand to help his son up, Silver meets his eyes. He hiccups. “So… you’re not mad at me…?”

“I am not,” Lilia assures, leaning in to pull the boy into another hug. “And…” He squeezes his eyes shut. “I am truly sorry, Silver, for pushing you that far. I should not have said what I did.”

And from the way Silver relaxes in his hold, pulling away to give him a small smile, Lilia knows that this will be enough, for now.

#writing requests #my writing tag #tumblr drabbles tag #twst #twisted wonderland #i don't think this one is spoilery? we knew he was the general ;u; #lilia vanrouge #twst silver #twst fanfiction #twst writing #when this fic goes up i shall be overseas at a beach and having a good time #i hope you guys enjoy! (aka: scream louder while i sip at my drinks)

[goghtomars]

Family

🌻 Author Note - Timeline may be slightly incorrect, I couldn’t figure out a way to make it entirely match with the CM plot but it is close. Also, I made up a best friend’s name.

💥Warnings: angstyyyyy. Drinking. Pregnancy mentioned. Prison mentioned. Cussing.

You really didn’t think the wine would hit you this hard. A year ago, you could’ve drowned out your sorrows with a bottle of red and still been able to walk in a straight line. But now, now you're drunk, and only two glasses in.

“God, y/n, pregnancy made you a lightweight!” your best friend Elise jokes, watching you as you start to stumble in your kitchen.

“Shut up, I'm fine, I tripped on Athena’s pacifier” you lie, refusing to believe you’re any different after having your baby girl. You grab some water for yourself, moving back to your spot on the couch next to Elise.

“Uh huh, sure. Y’know it was all your idea to start drinkingI just wanted to see you and Athena” Elise tells you, giving you a look that says “I know you’re hiding something.”

You take a deep breath before exposing your concerns to her, asking

“How do you tell someone who doesn’t want to hear from you that you had their baby and really miss them even though you shouldn't?”

Elise sighs, concern taking over her face. “You’ve been thinking about telling him again?” she pries, trying to get more information.

“He deserves to know! It's his daughter, I - I can’t keep that from him. I know he left, but he had his reasons..”

“No! You cannot keep defending him, Y/n! He left you and he didn’t have to, end of story” Elise argues, making your heart pang.

“He was trying to protect me! He didn’t know I was pregnant!” you defend, not ready to give up on your love.

“He left you a voicemail, y/n. A voicemail saying that he couldn’t be with you anymore because he didn’t want to put you at risk. That's bullshit! That’s not his decision!” Elise raises her voice, tired of you defending the man who left you behind.

“You’re right. He messed up. It wasn’t up to him to decide if I could handle the risk. But Athena deserves to have a father, and the longer I wait, the worse it will be. And Athena is already two months old, she’s growing so fast, and he’s missing all of it” you explain.

“So what do you want to do? Just show up at his door with Athena? What if he is angry, what if he hurts you again, y/n?” Elise asks, worried for her best friend's already broken heart.

“I don’t know, I was gonna write a letter, is that stupid?” you ask, unsure of it all.

“I don’t think it's stupid. And you’re right, Athena deserves at least the chance of having her father in her life. If you think that a letter is the best way for you to tell him, then do it” Elise tells you, and you nod. You’re still drunk, which is probably the only reason you actually went through with writing the letter, but you’re thinking clearly enough to start putting words onto paper.

“Spencer,

I know it’s been a while. Nine months to be exact. I know you think it's best if I'm not a part of your life, but I need you to hear me out. The day you left me that voicemail, I didn’t pick up because I was in the bathroom throwing up. About a week later, I found out I was pregnant. By then it was too late, you were gone, and I was too hurt to call you up and force you back into my life. I stubbornly thought that I would be enough for our baby, a capable single parent. Maybe I am, I don’t know. I’m doing the best I can. She turned two months old a week ago, and she’s starting to look just like you. She’s beautiful, Spence. I wanted to be angry enough to keep you out of her life. But I can’t. She deserves to have a father, to have two parents who absolutely adore her. I don’t expect you to come running back to me. In fact, this letter really isn’t about my feelings at all. It’s about her. If you want to be a part of her life, and I mean it Spencer, a real part of her life not some fleeting presence, then you know where to find me. If not, well, I guess nothing really changes.

- Y/n”

It took you about an hour to write the letter, with all the times you had to restart on a new piece of paper because you had written the wrong thing or your tears smeared the ink. But it was done, sealed in a white envelope that you labeled with Spencer's name and address.

The next morning, you drop it off in the outgoing mail slot, and wait.

~~~~~~~~~

Spencer puts his key in the door and pushes, relief filling his body as he enters his apartment for the first time after being gone for so long. He’s a changed man, prison bringing out the worst in him. But he’s home, and after three months of being on edge, he is somewhat relaxed. He throws his keys on the counter, noticing the large stack of mail left there. Garcia, he thinks, making a mental note to thank her later.

He’s not in the mood to go through mail, much less write anyone back, but one envelope catches his eye. He would notice your handwriting anywhere, the messy mix between cursive and script permanently ingrained in his mind. His throat catches as he reaches for the letter, his mind racing with thoughts of regret and overwhelming sadness. He misses you, more than anything. Had Mr.Scratch not been targeting the loved ones of the BAU, he wouldn’t have ended things. But he couldn’t risk it, couldn’t risk putting you in harm's way, not after losing so many of the people he loved.

He tears open the envelope, pulling out the paper and beginning to read. His eyes scan word after word furiously, his heart pounding as he takes it all in. our baby, he thinks, y/n was pregnant

Spencer couldn't keep his tears in even if he tried, so overwhelmed with the news. His decision to leave you to protect you had lost him the opportunity of witnessing his baby growing, his baby being born. And now, he feels like he’s a shell of a man, a different person who is suddenly a father. He reads the letter again, this time noticing the gendered pronouns. He doesn’t know how he missed it before. She... she’s beautiful he rereads, fully absorbing the fact that he has a daughter.

Spencer doesn’t waste another second, grabbing his keys and running back out the door. Your apartment was only a few blocks away, no use in taking the car Spencer decides as he’s rushing out of the elevator. So, with his heart pounding and mind racing, he runs. He’s never run so fast in his life, and honestly he’s in no shape to be doing so now but even with his lungs heaving he can’t stop.

He reaches the building, gasping for air as he pulls out his key. She never asked for it back , he thinks as he unlocks the door, catching his breath as he hits the up button on the elevator. Spencer regrets taking the elevator as soon as he’s inside, his body tensing up being confined in small quarters again. But he shakes it off, focusing on the fact that he's seconds away from seeing you again. Seconds away from meeting his daughter. He darts out of the tiny elevator, turning left and running down the hall - he can’t move fast enough. Then he sees it, your door, with the same small floral stickers surrounding the apartment number. Before he can think twice, he’s raising his hand to knock on your door.

~~~~~~~~

You’re making yourself some lunch when you hear a knock on your door. “Fucking landlord i’m so tired of his bullshit” you mutter as you go swing open the door. The butterknife in your hand drops as soon as you see Spencer’s face there in front of you. “Spencer” you breathe out, in complete disbelief.

“Uh, sorry, here” Spencer fumbles, leaning down to grab the knife from the floor and hand it back to you. You accept it, eyes wide and in shock as you wait for what he will say next.

“I got your letter” he says, pulling it from his bag to show you - as if you weren’t the one who wrote it in the first place.

“That's it? That’s all you have to say to me? You got my letter. And what spencer? Give me a reason to let you inside” you say, tears already brimming.

“I was in prison-” Spencer starts, his body language shifting as he begins to explain himself, “for the last three months. I was framed, but that’s not why I left. I knew that the guy we were hunting down would stop at nothing to hurt everyone at the BAU and I couldn't- I couldn’t put you in his path. I couldn’t be the reason you got sucked into his mess. Really I didn’t want to bring you any further into mine-” he rambles, eyes looking into yours.

You finally take in how he looks, tired, run down, like he’s just been through hell. And from what he’s telling you, he has been. You go to open your mouth but he cuts you off, “then I got arrested, before we got him. And I don't want to lie to you and tell you that he’s gone. He’s not. But I couldn’t stay away. I- I left because I thought I was doing the right thing but it's not the right thing to do anymore," Spencer explains, emotion filling his voice.

“Then what's the right thing to do spencer?” you ask, praying he answers the way you’ve been dreaming of for the past nine months.

“Be with you. With our baby. I- I made a mistake, and I don’t expect you to forgive me. And if you don’t want me back because you can’t forgive me I understand. But I want to be here for our daughter. I'll make the time. I’ve got some time off from work and I can take more- I just- I can’t let her grow up the way I did. Without a father.” Spencer says, a single tear falling down his cheek.

He’s going to keep rambling, you know it, but you move to wrap your arms around him - surprising him enough to stop him from speaking. He smells the same, the masculine but sweet vanilla scent filling your nose again. He sobs as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you as close to him as possible. “I forgive you” you whisper through your own tears, Spencer's body stilling as he hears the words. He pulls away from you, looking down to watch your eyes, unsure if you’re just saying that because he’s crying all over you.

“Ten minutes ago, no, I wouldn't have. But I understand now, and I know you’re being honest. And god, I’ve missed you, Spence” you tell him and he pulls you into his chest again.

“I- Thank you. I’ll never do this to you again. I’m so sorry” he says as he holds you. It feels like time is standing still until your daughter’s cries sound through the door.

“Fuck. I gotta get her, she’s probably hungry-” you say and turn, but Spencer grabs your arm. “Can I meet her? Please” he begs, and you slowly nod, suddenly overcome with nervousness. You open the door wider, letting Spencer in so you can both set your stuff down and grab your daughter. He looks terrified, standing in the middle of your apartment waiting for you to tell him what to do. Her poor cries are making his heart pang, and he wants to run in the room to rescue her but he knows it’s up to you.

You grab his hand, pulling him along with you as you open the door to your bedroom - Athena crying from her cot next to your bed. Spencer gasps as he sees her, and you drop his hand, moving to grab your crying baby.

“Shhhh baby, i’m here shhh” you soothe her, Spencer watching in awe as she starts to calm down almost instantly. Athena is hungry, you can just tell, but she can wait a few more minutes to eat. Meeting her dad is more important.

“Spence, meet your daughter” you say, moving so that he can see Athena more clearly in your arms.

He is crying again, but this time tears of joy, of disbelief. You were right, she looks like him and she’s so beautiful. “She’s perfect” he says, his eyes not moving from her for even a second.

“Do you want to hold her?” you ask, and he nods, shakily moving his arms to accommodate her little body. You place her in his arms and she cries for a second, but then looks up at him and stops. Spencer doesn’t move, just looks down at his baby girl as she looks back up at him.

“Well I think she knows you’re someone special - she’d be crying for anyone else” you say, offering him words of encouragement.

“Hi, um, im spencer - no, i- uh- i'm your dad” he says to Athena, and she blinks unaware.

“She likes you” you tell Spencer, tilting your head motioning to the living room so that he follows. He carries her so gently, moving so slowly as he takes a seat on the couch.

“You said she was hungry, does she formula feed or breastfeed? Is that inappropriate to ask?” Spencer questions, making you laugh.

“You're her dad, of course you can ask. I breastfeed her but I pump as well, I’ve got a bottle I can prepare for her if you want to feed her” you reply, his eyes lighting up.

“I'll take that reaction as a yes” you say and grab your breast milk from the fridge, moving to warm it up.

Spencer looks precious holding Athena, he’s making faces and smiling, letting his guard down. Athena looks absolutely enamored with Spencer, like she intuitively knows she’s with her dad. “Here, she might fight back because it's not my boob but, it should be fine” you explain as you hand the bottle to him.

“I’d fight too given the other option” Spencer remarks and you’re astonished. Did he just make a joke? About your boob?

“Spence!” you gasp, and he looks just as shocked as you.

“Uh, Freudian slip i guess, sorry” he mumbles, focusing on getting Athena to take the bottle. “No, it's fine, just um, unexpected. It’s good to see you letting loose” you comfort him, watching as Athena takes the bottle with no problems. Shocker.

“Yeah, no going back now, she’s a daddy’s girl” you tell him, a little in awe of how fast Athena grew to love him.

“I love her” Spencer whispers, overcome with such an intense feeling of love he couldn’t even begin to put it into words. Spencer Reid is speechless, and he doesn’t even know his daughter’s name. Wait, I don’t even know her name, he thinks.

“Y/n, her name, I don’t - what’s her name?” Spencer asks, butterflies filling your chest.

You loved her name, it was perfect for her. Named after the Greek goddess of wisdom, it was only fitting for a child with the genes of a genius. But you couldn’t help but worry that he would hate it.

“Y/n? Please tell me, if she has your last name that’s fine. I understand, just, I want to know what to call her” Spencer begs, and you nod.

“Athena Diana Reid” you say, and Spencer's mouth drops.

“Listen- I know Diana isn’t my mother, and I wasn’t trying to overstep, but I figured that if Athena never got to know her father at least her name would be entirely related to him. I understand if you’re mad, but-” you start rambling and he cuts you off

“Marry me” Spencer says, moving the now empty bottle to the table as he stares at you. “W-what?” you gasp, unsure if you heard him correctly.

“Okay, that’s my fault, I know it’s unexpected but, you’re the mother of my child, and quite frankly the love of my life, and I spent so much time away from you wishing I was back here loving you and I don’t want to waste anymore time. Let’s be a family. Marry me, y/n” he proposes, and you’re crying. It’s the last thing you expected. In your wildest dreams all you hoped for was him showing up at the door, much less the fact that he would still be in love with you and adore your daughter.

“Yes” you say, and Spencer gets up from the couch, Athena still in his arms as he moves to kiss you.

It’s a cinematic kiss, other than the awkwardness of having a baby between the two of you. Regardless, it's magical, your lips moving together perfectly, just like they used to.

You pull apart, out of air, and Spencer smiles.

“In case you couldn’t tell, I love her name. Thank you for thinking of me, for including me even though I'm an idiot” Spencer tells you.

“Spencer, you’re a textbook genius. Shut up. And of course I thought of you, you’re all I thought about. I loved you - I love you” you correct yourself and he kisses you again, Athena squirming in his arms.

He starts to laugh in the kiss as Athena wiggles her little legs, and you just smile.

“I think she’s trying to get our attention” you say, and Spencer nods.

“Or maybe she needs to be burped” Spencer suggests, and you nod, replying

“Yeah, I think we’re gonna be just fine. You’re a natural”

“I’ve read a surprising amount of parenting books, just out of curiosity. Plus there was that one time I birthed a baby at work-” Spencer explains himself but you cut him off,

“Just take the freaking compliment, Spence”

~~~~~~~~~

Spencer didn’t go back to his apartment that night, not after finding a place where he felt like himself again. He knew he was damaged, you knew he was damaged, but if anything could help heal him, it was your love and his daughter, Athena Diana Reid.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer x reader #spencer x y/n #spencer x you #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst

[gavisuntiedboot]

You are Everything (Gavi x reader)

28 day writing prompt challenge - prompts are linked here

Day 3: "I love you."

"Amor, turn the lights off and come to bed."

You and Gavi had been dating for several months now. Given the nature of his job, you didn't get to see him often if you weren't at his house. So this evening, like many others, you were at Pablo's apartment to spend the night so that you could have some quality time together. Unfortunately, you were also a university student, which meant that nights at Pablo's were never free from studying or homework. Tonight was no exception. You were sitting on the couch, laptop open in front of you with notes scattered as you tried to figure out your problem set.

"I can't right now, Pablo. I need to finish this."

"Amor, you can finish in the morning. Tomorrow is Sunday. Just get some sleep, and it might be easier to do when you're well rested."

You turned to look at Gavi, eyes tired and body aching. You pulled your glasses off your face. Before you could make a smart comment at him, your eyes began to water, and then you were crying. Gavi's concern was obvious. He got out of bed and came over to you, hugging your form that was shaking with sobs.

"Baby what happened?" He said, softly rubbing circles into your back. You couldn't speak. Sobs wracked your body. You used your remaining strength to stand, and Gavi took the opportunity to wrap his arms around you, embracing you tightly. You continued to cry into his shoulder. He switched off the light, leading both of you to the bed. He laid down with you, keeping you close to his chest. He rubbed circles into your back, placing gentle kisses on your forehead.

"I won't be able to do it Pablo. Not tonight, not tomorrow, not ever. I'm stupid. I don't know why I convinced myself I could do this degree. I'm an idiot and I should drop out." You said softly sniffling against his chest. He separated the two of you slightly, moving one hand up to caress your face.

"Amor don't ever say that about yourself. You are incredibly intelligent and hard working, and you are more than capable of finishing this degree with excellence. I see how much effort you put in. I see the dedication. I see the lack of sleep and sacrificing meals so you can keep studying. I see how you haul your books here every night so I can see you and you can get work done. I'm always in awe of how smart you are. My girl is wonderful and intelligent and sexy. Please don't allow yourself to think anything different. You're amazing."

Your eyes welled up with tears again.

"Why are you being so nice to me?"

"Because I love you. You're my girl."

Your breath caught in your throat. This was the first time either of you had said it. You stared deeply into his eyes, trying to decipher if he meant it in a romantic way or not.

"Pablo you don't even know what love is."

"Yes I do. Love is that feeling I get after every kiss, where my heart swells and I feel like I'm on another planet. It's the way that sometimes I look at you in the morning, with the sun hitting your face, and you're so beautiful it hurts to breathe. Everything in this world reminds me of you: the blue of the sky, the smell of the rain, the feeling of the sun on my skin. Everything makes me think of you, and you're all I want to think of. You are everything. I love you."

You looked up at him with wet eyes.

"Say it again."

"I," he kissed your forehead, "love," another kiss to the cheek, "you." He punctuated the statement with a deep and passionate kiss.

"I love you. I think I will continue loving you till I'm no longer on this Earth. I love you I love you I love you."

"Pablito... I love you too."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~A/N: a little short, but hope y'all enjoyed! I am literally falling asleep while typing. On a more personal note, I submitted my application for Grad school today. Clap for me pls. Part 3 of "Just Pretend" taking longer than I thought - sorry for the delay!

[onedaughterofman]

Writing Sessions #7 (Papa Emeritus I x g/n reader)

Summary: Your punishment for not memorizing the Lord's word is to have some special lessons with the head of the chruch himself.

Tags/Warnings: +18, orgasm denial, power imbalance, desk sex, kinda abuse of authority?, slight dom/sub dynamics, teasing, not so explicit but oral sex, fingering, improper use of Nameless Ghoul. Blonde Peepaw. I didn't proof read this, sorry.

A/N: Satan whispered in my ear and I listened to it. "Make them Peepaw fuckers," he said, and I replied: "Whatever you say, King." Partially inspired by @ghestie-nun Primo wip

A loud noise shatters the silence in the room. The sting of the ruler on your inner thigh is enough to force a hiss through your teeth, jaw clenching tight. An angry, red mark begins to form on the skin.

Fuck.

“Did I say you could stop?”

The claws dig deeper in your flesh. Not enough to pierce the skin, but with the necessary strength to make you endure it. Legs spread on the desk, you are left completely at the mercy of him.

Papa Emeritus I. The one who most Siblings fear and respect, because of his authoritarian nature and severe personality. He’s mostly a solitary figure, quietly walking around the long halls always surrounded by his ghouls.

Primo is a strong man, capable of rendering a bunch of Siblings silent with only one look. And now those mismatched, deep eyes fall on your face, harsh as always. There’s disappointment coating his pupils, wood ruler still firm between his fingers.

“You need to focus more on the texts,” he adds, clicking his tongue. “Distractions and temptations are all around us, but we must learn the word of our Father nonetheless.”

Slowly, the cold wood slides over your skin, knuckles ghosting on the burning, red spot. It hurts, but it also provides an unexpected relief. His hands are icy too, skin hardened by time. Primo works a lot, in the Ministry and the garden, and his fingers know exactly how to move to provoke a reaction.

Shivers explode up and down your spine. Your body quivers, trying to move away from his exploring fingers, but it’s useless. The Ghoul behind you won’t release you, won’t yield no matter how much you squirm. His chest is hot and hard behind your back, and you can only fall more onto his body, trying to hide.

“Continue.”

The book shakes so much in your loose grip, but not as much as your legs when Primo’s head goes back between them, warm breath hitting right in your most sensitive spots.

Fuck, again.

You want him. No, not want. You need him, right here, right now. You want your Papa to take you in this desk, to pound wildly into you until you can’t do anything more than to call out his name, brain completely fogged with pleasure and lust. Still, he doesn’t move. His fingers keep circling around your body, coated in his own saliva and your excitement.

The disappointment clings to his blown pupils. “If you stop, so will I.”

The oxygen is not nearly enough when you gather a deep breath, raw air burning all the way down your lungs. Your voice trembles, merely a whisper, and your throat is dry, almost like sandpaper. You need him to grant you release, to free you from this tortuous teasing that you have been receiving for what feels like hours, now.

When Primo reprimanded you earlier for now knowing today’s gospel, you expected nothing of it. You were a bit embarrassed, of course, but he looked unhappy, mad even. His jaw was clenched tight, and there was a heavy furrow on his face when he ordered you to meet him in his office later.

This is not what you expected.

“How hast thou fallen from heaven, Lucifer. I shall be as my father, who is of many forms. I shall be at one with the Fire, Darkness and Storm…”

Your voice breaks when his tongue finally joins his fingers. Primo follows a slow, tortuous rhythm, something both capable of transporting you to the edge of pleasure and then cast you back down on the floor. All your muscles are tense, and from behind you can hear a low, rumbling growl coming from the Ghoul. His claws dig deeper, forcing another gasp out of your mouth.

“I will ascend…” Primo urges, cheek resting on your thigh. It’s a breathtaking sight to behold, and your eyes scan every inch of it, from the wetness coating his mouth and chin, to the smudged paint, to the way his blonde, wavy hair falls around his face. There is also white and black paint on your skin, marking the path he followed from your neck to your waist.

“I will ascend to Heaven. Above the stars I will raise my throne. There is no God beside me…”

For a long moment, Papa doesn’t mention anything. Then, looking up at you through his lashes, he lets out a hum that travels right through your body, vibrations softly caressing your sweet spots. Face buried between your thighs, devouring you with a measured pace, Primo looks pleased, almost proud as you continue to recite from the texts.

Voice full of air and high pitched, you finish the paragraph right at the edge of your orgasm. When you can feel it coming, legs trembling and toes curling, it escapes right thought your fingers. Primo’s name dies in the tip of your tongue, turning into nothing but a frustrated moan.

Out of a mysterious mercy, the Ghoul lets go of you. Your joints ache and your muscles remain tense, chest heaving.

“Don’t look at me like that, Sibling. This is your punishment after all,” Primo says, deftly working on the buttons of his habits while he licks the fingers of his other hand. “Our Father has been kind enough to share his knowledge with us. You still have much more to learn.”

Then, taking his righteous place between your spread legs, he towers over your exposed body. His long hair falls around you, tickling at the sensitive, overstimulated skin. “Turn the page,” he orders.

As always, you obey.

ps: peepaw can fuck.

#papa emeritus i #papa primo #papa emeritus x reader #papa emeritus i x reader #ghost band fanfiction #my writing #writing sessions #my fic #peepaw primo #go peepaw

[stuffymcstuffsworld]

13 Days

You rubbed your temples, taking deep breaths. Devi, help you from the sheer stupidity of demons. Slowly, you raised your head to look at the current idiots seated before you.

Trying your best not to strangle anyone. Honestly... it was like dealing with toddlers! "So, let me see if I understand this correctly." Your tone was stern and indicating you didn't want to be interrupted.

"You want me." Pointing at yourself to make sure that you got your point across. "To be the new Demon King." You gestured to the empty chair that had been vacated for what seemed like eternity.

You watched as several members of the 13 crowns nodded. Some though glared poisonously at you. How the hell had it come to this? You glared at Baal, who glared back just as angrily with a clenched jaw.

This was all his fault. You just knew it deep down in your core. It all happened because he just had to mention replacing the demon kind at the party. Although you could tell it wasn't his expected outcome.

Henri stood up from his seat. "You are probably the most capable for the position outside of the 3 greats who have made their disinterest clear." You offered a blank stare in return. You certainly didn't want it. You were a parent to 13 children, and you didn't have time to goof off.

"Your strength has made you very appealing as a candidate as well." Amaymon agreed. You looked at the wolf in horror. No! They can't agree on this! This is betrayal of the highest order!

Amarylilis purred in excitement. "Your charisma is off the charts. You are very popular amount of all the clans." Oh devi, this wasn't happening. "All that mischief you cause in your wake to is most amusing." Belial commented, adding to your internal panick. How dare he!

"You've also shown that you are through in all your work as well. There is a lot of backlog due to the absence of a demon king." You shuddered at Astaroh's remark. Just how much abandoned paperwork was there with that title.

Oh... wait a minute. No, no, no. "Some would claim that you being rankless automatically disqualifies you." Levi said calmly you nodded hopefully, yes! Can't do it.

"But..." Why the hell was there a 'but'????!!! "Your disregard for such a system is precisely how previous kings have acted. I'd say it practically makes you king already!" Why! Just why devi did she have to look so happy about it???

You counted in your head '3, 4, 5, 6....6????' You couldn't have another yes that meant majority vote. You glanced at Sullivan trying to convey the 'this is insane' & 'don't you dare do this to me!' At the same time.

Sullivan stood up and made his way to you. "In the end, the choice is yours. But I'd like to offer a solution that could satisfy everyone. How about a trial period? That way, you can say with certainty whether or not this is something you want."

You looked at him warily. "13 days, and if I don't like it, I'm stopping effective immediately." Sullivan smiled and patted your shoulder. "Of course, my dear. That being said," he knelt down before you and took your hand gently resting his temple to it.

"I will support you in any matter no matter what." He had sealed your fate. You let out an annoyed huff. He looked far too satisfied for your liking. "13 Days," you reminded. "Papa will make sure of it." He confirms.

**Day one**

Opera had far too much fun dressing you up for your first day as Demon King. You couldn't find it in yourself to scold them, though. You looked devine. You had seen paintings and pictures before of what was assumed to be images of deities. And you looked like you could walk among them.

Tight leather that clung to your figure in such flattering ways, dark eyeliner that made you look bold and fierce. Nails and hair made to perfection. Boots that reached mid calf and had thick steel toes, good for delivering heavy kicks.

Of course, Sullivan made a big deal about it and took a billion pictures of you throughout the day. First and foremost, you plowed through all that freaking paperwork that had been forgotten.

It took you hours! Of course, you weren't gonna just sign or stamp something without reading it. You were no puppet. By the time all 13 crowns had arrived, they found you in your chair finishing up a mountain sized pile.

You glanced up. "My time is precious to me, and you think you can just come and go as you please?" You gestured to the piles of paperwork that laid at each chair. "Nobody is leaving this damn room until we're all caught up." Several crowns paled at the workload. It was rather large.

"How efficient!" Henri praised as he stared his own pile. "No efficient is that I have gone through, stacked, sorted, edited, and presented all of this and the other papers currently waiting in my office before you got here." Annoyance clear in your tone.

"There's more!" Yelped Amaymon, earning him a quick smack from one of the other crowns. You shifted so that you were lounging sideways in your chair. "Papa, what time did I arrive here?" You asked sweetly.

"Why you walked through the doors precisely at midnight, my dear not a second more or less!" His response quick and egar to please. "And the current time?" You asked while eyeing the 13 crowns. "It's a half past six, my dear!"

You nodded while setting another paper neatly in your ongoing pile. "And who was here to greet me the new Demon King when I arrived?" This question makes several of the crowns flinch.

"Why that was me, Belial, Levi and Belzebuth!" He cheered. You nodded again before sitting straight back against the large throne and drumming your fingers on one of the arm rests.

"So would anyone care to state why, most that supported me accepting this title were not there for my first moments as Demon King?" Again, another flinch. "No? Fine then, Bezlzebuth, tell me why you arrived?"

The older demon looked up from his paperwork. "Regardless of whether I supported your coming to power or not, you are my king now, are you not? I should be available to you at all times as your assistant." You hummed in response.

"Yes, and you have been worthy of your position. Your assistance is most appropriate." You eyed the others who remained standing. "What are you all standing around for? Get to work. I'm gonna make every one of you work till the moment this trial ends. By day 13, you'll be begging me to quit."

**Day two**

Well, you had accomplished catching up with all the paperwork. Most of the crowns looked like zombies at this point, but that didn't matter. Not when you were meeting with all the heads of clans in an hour.

You quickly brushed through your hair. Sent reminder texts to all the kids and put on more perfume because there was no time for a shower at this point. Guests were already arriving, and you had to change.

Away went the leathers now you draped yourself in warm pelts and furs. Adorning yourself with jewelry made up of bone. This wasn't about looking good. It was about sending a warning not to touch you or yours. This image was about intimidation.

Sullivan helped you paint runes on your arms and neck and even drew a few on your bare back in case. A more barbaric look. Yet, it suited you in a strange and disturbing way.

Making your way down the hall your feet quick and confident as the doors swung open for you. Many leaders eyed you. Instead of seating yourself on the thrown, placing yourself above them, you grabbed a cushion and placed it on the floor. Their eyes watching your every move.

"I am not stupid, I will not be looking down on you from on high while I hold a temporary position." You sat and waited. A buzzed filled the room. You seemed to have pleased many of them just by doing this.

Negotiations lasted 3 days. But many disputes had been settled. A large amount of trade had been discussed, and you seemed to gain favor with many demons in regard to how you handled everything. You were their king.

Clever with words, patient when hearing. You simplified many problems and narrowed down options. You also weren't a fool. Tired, though you may have been, you did not allow anyone to try and strong arm you or to make strange dealings.

**Day five**

Not gonna lie. You spent most of the day sleeping with the 13 crowns. Not your usual source of sleep cuddles, but after 4 days straight of no sleep, you couldn't complain.

**Day six**

You examined the borders. Dressed casually and wearing a veil to prevent anyone from recognizing you. It almost felt relaxing that you were outside again, but you really missed the kids.

This took 4 days to complete, and after almost getting eaten by various plants or stabbed by stray weapons coming from nearby battlefields, you were done. You waved off any concerns with a-. "I have no time to worry about death." Assaination attempts were possible, but you just knew that Sullivan wouldn't let anything harm you.

If you had so much as a scratch, you'd worry he would destroy an entire clan. You really didn't want that to happen. Too much paperwork afterwards.

Arriving back to the tower on day 10, you were met with a surprise. Poro-chan. Standing in the middle of the room, looking ready to kill you.

**Day ten**

You eyed the demon with ire. You really couldn't understand their reasoning at all. They had such a warped personality. Especially when it came to the former Demon King.

"HOW DARE YOU TRY AND TAKE HIS PLACE!" They roared. Fury blazed in their eyes as you looked at them. Truly, Poro looked ready to eat you and spit you back out.

"How dare you be such a hypocrite." You snapped back. Startling the musical genius. "Oh, you love him, but then you leave him alone for who knows how long while he is bound here by responsibilities! Then, you come back practically waving your freedom in his face as you go on and on about all you've seen. Only to leave him again!"

You advanced slowly, watching as Poro backed up, looking at you, heartbroken. "But you already knew that, didn't you? You knew how much he wanted to explore and break free, and that terrified you." They gasped and stumbled falling backwards.

"You were scared of never seeing him, so you wished for him to be bound to a single place so that you would always know where he was!" Pointing your finger in his face as you hissed out words of conspiracy and resentment.

"N-no i -" He tried to gasp out shock, covering his features now. "But he loved you!" You said lowly, lowering your hand. "What?" The question is small and hesitant as if unsure what had been said.

"I SAID HE LOVED YOU! YOU FREAKING IDIOT!" You shrieked tears now forming in your own eyes. "He loved you so much, and he knew that tying you down wouldn't make you happy. He knew you were the loveliest when you were free. Coming and going like the wind. And time after time, he let you go."

Poro was now a sobbing mess before you. You offered no comfort. "You say I am taking his place? Fine then. I'm taking it. I'm taking it, so stop it, Poro-Chan. Enough already. Set him free. The one you seek is no longer here.... move on from this place." You walked past the mourning demon.

His sobs filling your soul with dispare. If he saw you as the villain, then so be it, but he needed to move on. A love like his was toxic, ruining him from the inside out.

Your back was facing the once proud demon. You would allow them to have the smallest amount of privacy you could offer. You weren't sure if what you said had been true. But he needed some kind of closure at this point. He had been holding on for too long. Even by demonic standards.

"We'll speak again after we've both composed ourselves." You stated bluntly before exiting the room. You spent several hours on the phone with your kids after that.

**Day 11**

Sullivan and Opera covered you in silks and satans of various colors. The breezy feeling you got reminded you so much of walking on air. Your hair had pearls woven in, and you walked barefoot about the tower.

It was a look that screamed innocence, and it was the armor you would wear when facing Poro a second time. You opted to not met in the tower itself but in a meadow just outside of tower. It was peaceful and less intimidating than the inner walls.

You sat calmly by the pond and waited. It did not take long. The tall demon lowered himself besides you. Both of you are sitting in silence.

"Are you gonna tell me what they want with Iruma?" You eventually asked. The former 13 crown member flinched. You looked at him.

"I'm not stupid, and neither are you. But you are desperate and desperate ones believe anything." You kept your voice calm and measured.

"They want his mana. It's Del-chans mana." The musician sounded so broken as he admits his betrayal. "And what you believe that just by having it, he'll be brought back?" You questioned.

"I j- I just want to see him again." The miserable sound coming from his throat was raw and guttural. "Do you believe he would be happy? Do you think he'd like being forced back?" You were cautious knowing that the demon you were questioning was close to an evil cycle.

"Stop that! Stop acting like you know him! I know him!" Even as he started throwing his fit, you remained. Unmoved. "That's why I'm asking you." Your words floating on the breeze.

Somehow, for the rest of the day, you had a large crying demon in your lap as you continued your work and messaged your kids. Making you miss them even more than you had already. 'Just two more days.' You thought trying to vanish your stress with that.

**Day twelve**

Party planning. You were setting up a party for tomorrow to celebrate your last day as Demon King. It seemed like the whole netherworld was invited.

You happily tasted sweets and allowed Poro to be as picky as he'd like with the music. Your father happily helped you pick and plan everything as you went. While the others excluding a few.

*cough* Baal *Cough*

We're actually trying to convince you to stay. Absolutely not. You had done more than enough. You had done more in a few days than most of them had in the years they had this position.

You had 13 kids you couldn't wait to go home and cuddle with. You might not leave the house for several days after this. Sounded sooo lovely.

**Day thirteen**

You practically flew through the day. Paperwork? Done, Decorations? All set up and on display. Your outfit? You looked like part of the Milky Way, considering how many gems are attached to you.

You shone throughout the entire night. Spinning around on the floor, excited to actually see all your children. You hugged, you cried, you laughed, and you cheered.

You happily escorted Clara around her first fancy party. You kept up with all of Lied and Goemon's exciting news that you missed. All while ensuring that Kamui didn't harass any of the ladies tonight.

Alice and Sabro danced with you a few times while you watched Iruma. Trying everything on the tables like the hungry little demon he was turning out to be. Kerori and Elizabetta chatted about all the designs they had seen tonight, and Jazz would teasingly swipe your accessories throughout the event.

You rested from time to time with Picero on his comfy cloud. While Allocer and Soi seemed more content with being wallflower and watching as the chaos went on through the night. Overall a great night.

But as soon as the clock struck midnight, you kicked off your shoes. Picked up both Soi and Iruma, who happened to be the two children closest to you and ran out the door screaming.

"Frrrrreeeeeeeeedddddoooommmmm" With your other children laughing and racing to catch up. Yes, you definitely hated every moment you missed.

#welcome to demon school iruma kun #mairimashita! iruma kun #reader #iruma suzuki #lord sullivan #opera #clara valac #asmodeus alice #sabnock baal #sabnock sabro #shax lied #gaap goemon #caim kamui #crocell kerori #ix elizabetta #jazz andro #allocer schneider #soi purson #agares picero #amaymon #astaroth #amaryllis #henri azazel #levi #belial #belzebuth #derkila #demon king #poro-chan #amduscias

[ghouligancentral]

It's Showtime Darlin'

Arthur Morgan x fem!reader

A/N-

I could not for the life of me figure out what to write for the summary so I just put a little blurb in from the story. I hope you find this to your liking. Smut is after the ********, the first part of this is just good ol' outlaw fun. As always, likes and comments are always appreciated. Also feel free to send me any ideas for more fics.

Cross posted on A03 @jellybeam1meup

Warnings/ tags: Fluff, smut, slight dom/sub elements, spanking, train robbing, Outlaw shenanigans, PiV sex, rough(ish) sex, reader is married to Arthur Morgan

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

“What’s going on?”  “Why have we stopped?” 

Questions of confused passengers ring out as you look out the window, straining your neck to see if you can spot anything.  A hush descends upon the train car when the sound of the door to the car can be heard opening. You don’t have to wait long for their questions to be answered.

“We can do this the easy way or the hard way.” 

You watch as three masked men brandishing guns enter the train car. Gasps sound out from various passengers. The outlaws work their way down the aisle of the train demanding peoples’ valuables. Your heart begins to pound faster as the men draw closer to you. 

It won’t be long now. 

Before long you are looking up at a tall, blonde outlaw clad in a faded blue shirt. A black bandana hides most of his face except for his ocean blue eyes. Those eyes almost look as if they could see into your very soul. He sets down the bag he is carrying and it is obvious he is about to do something. The man reaches down and grabs you by the sleeve, tearing it a little as he lifts you up. Something is whispered in your ear as he grabs your waist and pulls you closer to him. 

“it’s showtime darlin’.” 

———————————-

“You want me to do what?” You exclaim to Hosea as he tells you and Arthur the plan. 

“I want you to pose as one of the passengers on the train,” Hosea explains,” then Arthur here will take you as a hostage as a way to escape.” 

You throw a glance over to your husband who looks just as unconvinced as you are. After looking at each other for a brief moment Arthur finally asks the question that is on both of your minds. 

“Do you think it’ll actually work?” 

“Of course it will work,” Dutch booms as he throws open the tent flap before entering. 

“I came up with the plan myself,” he continues. 

“That’s what I was afraid of,” Arthur mutters under his breath. 

“You say somethin’?” Dutch asks Arthur with his iconic scowl. Arthur ignores Dutch’s question and proceeds to ask one of his own. 

“How do we know this is safe? What happens if somethin’ goes wrong and I can’t get her out of there?” Arthur scowls. 

Every time you and he work a job together he insists that you are beside him the entire time, but more so now. Recently, on a job, the two of you had a close call.  Dutch’s plans were based on bad information, and, when it went south, Micha all but abandoned you which almost led to you being caught. Ever since then Arthur has had a hard time trusting Dutch’s plans and Micha in general.  While he knows that you are more than capable of handling yourself, there's just something about letting you out of his sight that makes him uneasy. 

“Arthur, my boy,” Dutch grins as he swigs an arm around Arthur’s shoulder,” I have all the faith in the world that you’ll be able to pull this off.” 

Arthur just lets out a huff in reply as he brushes Dutch’s arm off him. 

“I’ll do it,” you sigh. You’d much rather be in on the action with the boys than be posing as some old biddy, but you know the gang needs the money. 

“You sure?” Arthur questions as he moves to your side. The concern in his eyes melts your heart. Although he insists he isn’t a good man deep down Arthur has a heart of gold. 

“Yeh, I’ll be fine, but I’d much rather be with you boys though,” you give a little pout to emphasize your disappointment. Arthur pulls you in close beside him before giving you a small hug. 

“Don’t worry darlin’. I’ll try to make it exciting for ya,” Arthur replies with a smile. 

“Try to make it convincing,” Hosea sighs as he watches the two of you embrace. 

—————————————

So that’s how you ended up here in this ridiculously puffy dress Susan had stuck you in. You squirm a little to try and make it seem like you are uncomfortable in his grasp, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. You try to keep a straight face as an idea creeps into your head. Hosea did say to make it convincing, you think to yourself as you clutch your bag a little tighter. 

“Unhand me you big galoot!” You cry out as you wack Arthur across the face with the handbag. Arthur’s eyes widen in surprise as the unexpected force of the bag causes him to stumble back a few steps. In all honesty you didn’t mean to hit him that hard, you got a little too caught up in your performance. 

Arthur blinks a couple of times to reorientate himself before wrapping an arm around your chest, pulling you next to him so that your back is flush with his chest. The strength of his arms is almost crushing. His calloused fingers grip your jaw as he forces you to look forward at the passengers. With his pistol and presses the barrel to your head, he begins to speak. You shutter a little at the act. You’re not scared at all, actually quite the opposite you love how rough he is being with you. 

“Like I said before, we can do this the easy way or the hard way. Kindly hand over y’all’s valuables to these other gentlemen or I might just have to start getting rough. You don’t want me to have to hurt this sweet little thing right here.” 

You hear the horrified gasps of the other passengers as they watch him gesture with the weapon. The people get the message and begin handing things over quicker. Once the others have made it all the way through the train car, they continue on to find where the luggage is being kept. By this point, the passengers have settled down some but their fear and nervousness is still palpable.

Arthur decides to stay true to his word about making it exciting for you when he sees an elderly passenger staring daggers at him, almost challenging him to make a move. Arthur releases your jaw from his grip and moves his hand down so that it gropes one of your breasts. The woman lets out a gasp and clutches her handkerchief tighter, quickly averts her eyes from the sight of this outlaw seemingly manhandling a lady. You hear Arthur let out a breathy chuckle and you have to admit that it is a little funny. 

The two of you stay there in the passenger car until you hear Charles call out,” time to go, the law will be here soon.” You give Arthur a slight nod letting him know that you are ready to get the hell out of dodge. 

“Thank ya folks for your kind hospitality,” Arthur announces as he reaches down and retrieves the bag of stolen items he set there earlier. He shoves the bag into your hands and quickly returns the gun to your temple. The last thing he wants is for everyone to know whose side you're on. He begins backing up, pulling you with him to the exit at the back of the car. 

One of the men seated near the front of the car stands and calls out, “ What about the lady? You said you’d let her go if you got what you wanted!” 

Arthur stops and looks at the man. A glint of mischief flashes in his eyes. 

“Did I now?” 

You can almost hear the smirk in his words. Arthur lowers his gun from your temple and holsters it. 

“I think I’ve changed my mind. I’ve decided that this one here is mine,” Arthur replies as he lifts you up into his arms. The train car once again fills with horrified gasps as the passengers watch Arthur carry you out of the car. 

————————-

“That was quite the performance sweetheart. But I coulda done without that handbag hitting me in the face,” Arthur chuckles as he helps you fight against your skirt to get onto the back of Boadicea. He jostles you around as your skirt makes the task much more difficult.  Once he has you settled as best he can, Arthur mounts the horse. 

“What else would you expect me to do when a big bad outlaw has his hands on me?” you giggle as you wrap your arms around his waist. Arthur can feel arousal pooling in his gut at the sound of your words, but shows no outward signs. 

Arthur just huffs in reply as he spurs the Boadicea onward, however you know him better than that. You know he is smiling. 

The two of you decide to stop at a hotel for the night to enjoy some of the fruits of your labor before riding on to the camp in the morning.  As Arthur is helping you off his horse he whispers some wicked plans in your ear. 

“Let me get you out of that dress and then I’ll really show you what an outlaw can really do with his hands.” 

Arthur’s raspy voice sends a shiver down your spine; However you decide to tease the man a little more. 

“Oh isn’t the big bad outlaw gonna treat a girl to dinner first? Let’s get something to eat,” you purr, you want to see how far you can push him. You want him to be rough with you just like he was on the train. It’s not that you don’t like the way Arthur fucks you, you love his gently touches and praises, but sometimes you crave something different. Something more carnal. 

Arthur has to be in a certain mood for him to really get into being rough with you. You can count on one hand the number of times Arthur has taken you like that. All of them after a job.

 In hindsight you probably would have gotten what you wanted if you had gone up to the hotel room at the moment since Arthur was already riled up and riding the highs of adrenaline. A quick flash of confusion flickers over Arthur’s face before he realizes what you are doing. 

Arthur just grunts at your proposal and drags you to the nearest restaurant as he hopes the meal will be quick. 

Dinner ends up being a silent affair, with Arthur being too horny to hold much of a conversation. All he wants to do is rip off your clothes and take you right here. Intentionally eating slowly, you just play it up even more. Arthur grits his teeth as he feels a bulge starting to form in his pants as the sight of you sitting there. 

“That’s it,” Arthur growls as he slams money down on the table before dragging you out of the bar. This is it. This is the place you wanted Arthur to get to. You can hardly contain yourself as you watch him check in and get a room for the night. You feel a little devastated when Arthur tells you to go on up to the room to wait for him there while he gets another drink. He is making you pay for your sins. 

You follow his instructions and go on to the room. It is small, containing only a bed, small dresser, and two bedside tables, but its location far away from the lobby of the hotel offers you the seclusion you had hoped for. After flopping your upper half down on the bed, you realize what a hassle your skirt is going to be. The crinoline in it prevents you from being able to lay down fully. Your core aches with the thought of your husband. What is he doing? When will he be back? You would have already taken your skirt off to be ready for Arthur’s return but you were definitely going to need his help for that. 

You sit up when you hear a key turning to unlock the door. Arthur went ahead and just decided to follow you upstairs. Even though he wanted to punish you, he didn’t have it in him to wait. Arthur strides into the room before closing the door. He barely has the chance to finish locking the door before you are on him. Your hands desperately roam his chest as you try to unbutton his top. 

You are only able to make it a quarter of the way down before Arthur stops you. 

“Wooh there darlin’. I think we need to focus on getting you out of that monstrosity that Ms. Grimshaw calls a dress.” 

You chuckle at his description of your outfit. That’s your Arthur, always the gentleman even when he does want to nail your ass to the bedsheets. 

“Get that top off,” Arthur growls as he drops down to one knee to begin undoing the ties of your skirt. You obey and work as fast as you can to rid yourself of the clothes. 

“This damned skirt!” Arthur huffs out as the two of you attempt to beat the fabric into submission. Arthur reaches into his pocket, pulling out a knife. As he goes to cut you out of the skirt you stop him. 

“I’ve got to wear this back to camp tomorrow. Unless you want me looking like Lady Gadiva.” 

Arthur grunts as he sets the knife to the side and goes back into battle with the intricate lacing. 

**********************************************

“If it weren’t for all this damn fabric, you’d of felt how hard I was for ya back there on the train,” Arthur growls as he finally begins to succeed in getting the skirt off your body. 

“Oh really?” You hum back as you run your fingers through his hair and you decide to see if you can take this further. 

“You like being the big bad outlaw?” You question. Your words cause a low groan to escape from his lips. He likes this and you know it. 

“I had half the mind to bend you over in front of all those people and fuck you,” Arthur purrs as he finally manages to get the skirt loose. He pulls both your skirt and bloomers down to your ankles in one fell swoop. He offers you a hand as you step out of the pool of fabric before taking a moment to admire your nude form. 

 Arthur presses his lips against yours as he backs you up until your knees hit the bed causing you to sit down.

Arthur pulls back from the kiss before standing up to begin removing his trousers.  Another bolt of arousal shoots down your spine when you hear the sound of his gun belt hitting the floor. Arthur watches as your eyes flick over to his bandana laying on the dresser and an idea pops into his head. He strolls over to the furniture and grabs the fabric. 

You watch, wide eyed, as Arthur ties the bandana around his face, just like it was on the train. the sight made you drool.  Arthur walks back over to the bed and grabs your jaw roughly. 

“Alright, here’s what yer gonna do. Yer gonna just sit there, lookin’ all pretty like, and let me do whatever I want to ya. Got it?” Arthur growls as he lets up the pressure on your jaw just enough for you to respond. You give a little nod. 

“Good girl,” Arthur praises before letting go of your face in favor of removing his trousers. He watches as a beaming smile spreads across your face at the praise. Arthur pulls his trousers down just enough so that his hard cock springs out. You reach out to take him in your hand, only to be stopped by Arthur grabbing your wrist. 

“Just your mouth, no hands,” Arthur growls from above you. You just nod and shuffle your body closer to him. A low groan escapes him when he feels your lips close around him. Arthur places a hand in your hair to position you where he wants. He doesn’t thrust into your mouth, but instead uses the hand threaded in your hair to bob you up and down on him, letting your mouth do all the work. 

He throws his head back and lets out a groan at the feeling. The sounds coming from his mouth only cause you to become more desperate. You reach a hand down and allow two of your fingers to slip inside your dripping core. You moan around Arthur as you do so. When you moan Arthur looks back down at you to figure out the cause. When he sees where your fingers are he smiles to himself. Arthur pulls your mouth off of his cock and quickly takes the hand once holding your hair and places it firmly on your jaw. His other hand reaches down to pull your fingers out of your core. 

“Didn’t say you could do that, did I?” Arthur asks as he kneels down to eye level with you. A wicked grin is plaster on his face as you sheepishly shake your head ‘no’. 

“Looks like I’ll just have to punish ya for it then,” Arthur coos in a sickly sweet voice. Arthur lets go of your jaw and wrist in favor of undressing. You feel your core clench around nothing as you watch him remove the rest of his clothes. 

The sight of his broad chest never fails to make you ache. Your eyes trace over the various scars spattered on his torso. You never understood why Arthur would always call them ugly. You loved his scars. You love everything about this man. 

Your eyes continue to roam over his body and you take in the sight of his toned chest, arms and thighs. How could this man degrade himself so much? Arthur jolts you out of your thoughts by sitting down beside you on the bed. The mattress sags under his weight. You sit up on your heels and wait for your next instructions. 

“Come ‘ere,” Arthur chuckles at your eagerness. You quickly obey and move closer to the man. 

“Lay down over my lap.” 

Okay this is new. You had only brought up the idea of him spanking you once. And that idea was quickly shot down by Arthur. Arthur was terrified of accidentally hurting you or taking things too far. He knew the life the both of you led brought along with it pain. He didn’t want to add anymore to your life. 

But now Arthur was in just the right mood to try it out. In all honesty, he didn’t truly want this to hurt you, just to sting a little so that you would listen to him. Butterflies filled your insides as you lay your bare stomach across his thighs. The way his cock twitches against your side indicates that he is just as eager as you are. 

“Alright, tell me if it gets to be too much for ya darlin’,” Arthur instructs as he rubs gentle open palmed circles on your exposed rear. 

“Okay,” you whisper as another shiver of arousal runs down your spine. His hand lands on you with a smack. The sound of flesh hitting flesh echoes in the room as you let out a whimper. The force was much greater than you were expecting but it felt oh so good. Arthur gives your rear a little soothing rub before landing another blow to the other cheek. With each spank you let out little pants and whimpers at the sting. You can feel yourself dripping onto his thigh as the punishment continues. You know your rear must be red at this point but that doesn’t matter now. 

Arthur lands one particularly hard slap on the skin just below your cheek. This causes you to cry out at the unexpected pain. 

“Too much? You want me to stop,” Arthur questions upon hearing your cry. There is obvious concern in his voice. 

“Keep going,” you sob, your nails digging into the sheets. Arthur just nods and continues with a couple more swats before he decides to move on. You gasp as you feel a calloused finger prod your entrance. 

“Arthur,” you whine out as you attempt to move back so that his finger enters you. However, Arthur pulls his hand farther away, causing you to huff in protest. 

“Beg.” 

“What?” You ask as you turn your head to look up at him. 

“I said beg. Beg for my fingers,” Arthur replies with a straight face. By this time all of your dignity has all but flown out the window. You want him to touch you so bad and you are willing to do just about anything. 

“Arthur please give me more,” you beg, wiggling your hips a little. A harsh slap lands on your sore rear in response. 

“Gonna have to do better than that,” Arthur laughs. The frustration is so great that you feel as if you will pass out if he doesn’t touch you soon. Arousal has clouded your brain. It is almost as if the whole world has stopped spinning, making it seem as if it was just the two of you here in this moment in time.  

“Arthur please! Please fuck me with your fingers! Do anything you want to me. I’ll be a good girl! I promise,” you plead out as a couple of frustrated tears roll down your face. In the back of your mind you know the other guests probably hear your pleas to your husband but you don’t care. Arthur smiles at your words and quickly pushes two fingers deep into your wet cunt. 

His fingers are much bigger than yours and cause a delicious stretch. You gasp at the feeling of his fingers pumping in and out of you. One hand remains fisted in the sheets while the other is clamped down over your mouth to keep you from screaming out. Arthur begins to scissor you open in preparation for him. A low rumble settles in his chest as he watches you squirm and writhe around in his lap, a feeling of pride swelling in his chest at the knowledge that he is the only one who gets to see you like this. 

Another finger is shoved into you as Arthur stretches you even further. Arthur has stopped the quick paced pumping in and out of you in favor of searching for that spot that has your legs shaking. It only takes the man a couple of seconds to find it, and he knows he has found it when you let out a little sob of pleasure and clench around him. In a matter of mere minutes you can already feel the tell tale signs of your orgasm approaching. Arthur moves his thumb so that it is resting directly over your clit. Your breath quickens as you feel the knot inside you coil tighter. When he starts rubbing circles onto your clit, that wave of pleasure reaches its peak. You cum with Arthur’s name freely flowing from your lips. Your legs shake violently as the high continues to take over your body. 

You expect Arthur to slow his movements but instead he just continues. You let out a whine when Arthur begins moving his fingers in a ‘come hither’ motion in an attempt to make you orgasm a second time. The pleasure is borderline painful at this point. You know what he wants but you’re not sure you can give it to him. 

You reach back in an attempt to grab his wrist to stop him, but his other hand just pins you down against the sheets. 

“Too much! Too much,” you cry as you feel a strange sensation building in the pit of your stomach. Arthur slows down a little as he responds to your plea. 

“Come on darlin’. Will ya just try for me? Please?,” Arthur questions, he fully intends on stopping if you want him to but he really hopes that’s not the case. 

“I’ll try,” you whimper before you feel his fingers begin to speed up again. 

“Good girl,” he coos. Arthur presses his thumb down against your clit once more. This is all it takes to have you gushing onto his fingers. You moan out as you feel your second orgasm grab hold of you. Arthur keeps a firm grasp on you as your body twitches and spasms in his lap. You hiss at the sensitivity as Arthur pulls his fingers out of you. 

“You took your punishment so well,” Arthur coos as he flips you over onto the bed. He has you on your side with your back to him. Arthur positions himself up close to you with his chest against your back. You can feel his erection pressing against the small of your back. The way his large body covers you makes you feel so small.

Arthur takes your leg and pulls it back so that you can halfway wrap it around his thigh. Arthur keeps his hand on your thigh to help you remain in the position. You feel his cock nudge at your entrance. You shudder as you feel a drop of precum land on your inner thigh. Arthur then snakes an arm under your body so that he can place a hand on your neck. His grip is loose as he doesn’t want to actually choke you. He wants to let you know he’s there. 

“You ready,” Arthur huffs in your ear. 

“Yes,” you mumble as you relax into his touch. Arthur groans as he sinks into your tight heat. Even after taking him so many times, your husband always manages to stretch you out. Arthur starts off with a slow pace, allowing you to get used to the sensation. His blunt nails dig into the meat of your thigh as he increases the pace. 

“Yer so fucking good to me,” Arthur pants in your ear. You only manage a pitiful whimper in response. 

The room echoes with moans as Arthur thrusts into you. You can feel another orgasm approaching at an alarming speed. 

“Arthur! I’m going to-“ 

“Let go for me darlin’,” Arthur purrs as he increases his pressure on your throat. The feeling triggers your third orgasm of the evening. He grits his teeth as a low growl escapes him when he feels you clench. Arthur slows his thrusts to long steady ones as he works you through your orgasm. You can tell he is getting close by the way his rhythm falters. 

You give him one more clench to help him along before his cock is kicking inside of you. Your toes curl as you feel Arthur coat your insides with hot ropes of cum. Arthur continues to fuck his cum into you until he is totally spent. 

“I love you,” Arthur pants into your ear before reaching up to pull the bandana down off of his face to place a soft kiss on the top of your head. 

“I love you too,” you respond and you pull his arm around your chest, snuggling closer to him. The two of you lay together panting for a while before he pulls out of you. 

His cum leaks out onto your thighs as you feel the mattress spring back into place as he gets up. You watch as the man you love walks around to your side of the bed, undoing the bandana from around his neck as he moves. He kneels down in front of you with a smile. 

“You did great,” Arthur praises in a soothing voice as he takes the bandana and cleans up the mess between your thighs. You jolt a little at the feeling of it rubbing against your sore pussy. 

“No you did,” you reply with a sleepy grin. Arthur just chuckles as he finishes cleaning you up before doing the same to himself. You let your eyes slip closed and you hear him make his way back around to the other side of the bed once more. The mattress dips back down as he joins you on the bed. He pulls you close and spoons you in his arms.

“Was that rough enough for ya?” Arthur questions as he places little kisses on your neck. 

“Uh huh,” you hum back,” you know I always like to see your big bad outlaw side.” 

Arthur lets out a quiet chuckle closing his eyes as well. 

“I guess you whacking me with that handbag really got me goin’.” Arthur grins as he feels you relax into him. 

“Hmm I guess I’ll just have to work jobs like this more often then.” 

That’s the last thing you mutter before you drift off to sleep. 

#rdr2 arthur #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 dutch #rdr2 x reader #red dead redemption 2 #I am a hoe for Arthur Morgan #fanfic #rdr2 smut #rdr2 fluff #arthur morgan smut

[save-the-villainous-cat]

Hero gets mocked by reporter, which leaves them pretty down and the "joke of the week".

Villain is not happy.

And this time... Hero doesn't show up for the city's rescue.

“Seriously, I am not in the mood for a fight.” The villain tilted their head as their mind tried to grasp the significance of the hero’s words. Usually, they wouldn’t care about what the hero wanted and what they didn’t want. But today was different.

The hero looked like they’d cried through the whole night. Their eyes were still swollen.

“Why’s that?”

“Do you seriously care?” the hero asked.

“No,” the villain lied, “I do not. I’m just curious. Studying the enemy.”

They let their guard down, their arms sunk. Though the villain didn’t like that, they also figured they could beat the hero in seconds if they had to. Being all over the place like their enemy had consequences for combat. It seemed plausible.

Letting out a humourless laugh, the hero looked at them. Somewhere deep down, the villain wanted to hug the hero. Stupidly, compassion was still a part of them.

“Don’t you watch the news?” the hero asked, their painful smile from their fake laugh slowly fading.

“Since I am the news usually, no. I get pretty sick of seeing myself on TV,” the villain admitted. “Why? Did something happen?”

A dead friend, maybe? A dead superhero? A hospital that blew up? The villain could only speculate.

“The news said some nasty stuff about me. Some reporter got their hands on my family history somehow and used it.” The villain saw how tears collected in the corners of the hero’s eyes. “I tried to ignore it…but I cannot, it hit too close to home when they made fun of it.”

They leaned against the wall of the alley as if it was the only way not to fall. As if it was the only thing in the world that held them up.

“At least I made it to the front page,” the hero said sadly. The villain breathed out audibly, a sigh so close to annoyance it surprised even them. This wouldn’t be a problem for them. The villain didn’t care about the news or the press or what the citizens said about them.

But as they saw how much the hero was hurt, their mood changed. Rapidly.

“Hey, that’s okay. You’re not what they say you are,” the villain tried but the hero’s tears were already rolling down their face. In this moment, the villain just knew they couldn’t ignore this. “Hey—”

The villain grabbed their chin and pressed them gently against the wall.

“Look at me.” The hero did, their eyes as beautiful as ever, despite the tears. “I will take care of this matter, alright? You’re more than what they say. Your actions define you, not what others say about you, got that?”

Slowly, the hero nodded as their nemesis wiped away their tears.

“Let’s call it a day. Go home. Relax. Don’t watch TV. Play with your cat for a while, hm?” Again, the hero nodded. It seemed to be all they were capable of right now. Trying to lift the mood, the villain smiled at them before they booped the hero’s nose playfully. “See you soon.”

The villain was eventually right. Actions were more significant than what other people said. It was something the hero truly understood once the reporter was kidnapped.

They learnt more about themselves than the villain when they didn’t show up for the execution.

#ahhhhhhh #writing snippet #heroxvillain prompt #heroxvillain snippet #heroes and villains #hero #villain #hero x villain #heroxvillain #an answer for an ask #request

[spaghettificationandpretzels]

Friendly Encouragement

A/N @darklydeliciousdesires thank you for introducing me to this man. So writing this took like six turns, and it's now become a multi-part childhood best friends-to-lover anthology; this is part one. My confidence is still pretty trash, especially because this is a new fandom/character so I'm not all that happy with this even with the seven rewrites.

Contains: Fluff, supportive Sean, childhood best friends to lover, mild smut.

1.7 K words

After getting some help from Sean, there ends up being some revelations.

The daylight was well and truly gone, and Sean had been pouring over your rejected grant proposal for hours, trying to figure out why it hadn't made the cut.

He lifted his head off his hand, looked away from the paper and shook himself awake before throwing the folder onto the ground and turning to you with his jaw clenched. "I don't get it, love, it's flawless."

You shrugged. "It's also apparently too client focused. Too much about helping people and not enough about the bottom line."

He rolled his eyes, clearly ready to rant about what the heads of charities really got up to, before he stopped himself. "You're going to go back in there tomorrow and demand he reconsider."

You looked at him for a moment, hoping you'd heard him right. "Yeah, that's not going to happen, I don't even know where to start. I'd go to the CEO, but she's travelling, and he'll get ahead of it before I even try."

He was off the couch like a rocket, marching over to you with a determined look set on his face. "Then we'll practice."

He wrapped his strong hand around your upper arm and dragged you to his home office, letting you go a few feet from his desk before sitting down. "Pretend I'm this finance arsehole, we'll work through it together."

You wanted to protest, to tell him he was being silly, but the look on his face told you that you wouldn't be leaving the room until you did what he asked.

You sighed and threw your hands up. "Fine, but I don't see how this is going to help. I am capable of getting things done, it's just him."

He almost looked offended. "I know that, I've known that since you called Mr Bollen a pompous baboon in the fourth grade."

He paused and smiled softly, that disarming smile you had seen him use so many times before. "Think of me as an empty space, I'm not going to do anything other than sit here so you can bounce your ideas around."

You huffed. "Fine."

You left the room and closed the door, taking a deep breath before knocking twice. "Come in."

You walked in, head held high and back straight like you did that morning, and met Sean's eye, his serious look preventing you from laughing. "Mr. Campbell, I think you should reconsider my grant. The numbers page on page six made it clear that it's doable and…"

Your thoughts left you, and you flopped down onto one of the office chairs. "This isn't going to work."

Sean wasn't put off and reached across the table to grab your hand. "He's not the first pig you've had to deal with, he won't be the last. Now what's tripping you up?"

Sean had a knack for getting information out of people, so there was no point in lying, you just had to say it carefully so no one ended up dead.

It wasn't really that hard to relent with the way he was looking at you, his face neutral but his eyes full of twinkling affection that almost looked more than friendly, it made your heart flutter. "I'm pretty sure I lost the grant because I refused to go to the luncheon. I didn't think the money that could be going to the program should be spent on drinks."

You saw the fleeting glimmer of anger in his sea blue eyes, but it was gone in a flash, and you continued. "This isn't the sixties. He gave the grant to one of his drinking buddies, and it's not going to help anyone, and I can't do this because if I'm alone in a room with that prick, I'm going to hit him."

Sean chuckled and patted your hand lovingly. "Ah, love, you might not want to hear this, but you need to sink to his level." Your eyes went wide, and you stuttered about being unable to do that, but he cut you off. "I'm not talking about blackmail, just let him know that all it would take for him to lose his job is an off hand comment in the lift while the CEO is there."

You sighed, he was right, as always. He took in your look of resignation with a smile and waved his hand. "Well then, up you get. Once we can get through this without that bleeding heart of yours balking, I'll order in from your favourite restaurant."

You raised your eyebrows and shook your head. "Bribery, Sean, really?"

He still hadn't let so of your hand, and his thumb rubbed your skin affectionately. "Only the best for my favourite girl."

****

You were still riding the high of how well it all went when you showed up at Sean's. There was no point in knocking; the Wallace house was your second home, and you practically lived there. You waved to Mrs Wallace as you walked by the kitchen, and she gestured towards Sean's room to let you know where he was.

You rapped on the door, and his voice floated through the wood. "Come in." He grinned when he laid eyes on you and popped up from his small desk to greet you. "You're smiling, so it went well. Tell me everything."

It all came out in an excited flurry, going between telling him what had happened and explaining how the head of finance had squirmed like a coward the more you spoke. Sean's grin only grew until he was close to laughing, accepting your thanks graciously as you wrapped your arms around him.

He could feel your excitement as you spoke and he couldn't find it in himself to let you go as you finally slowed down and it became his turn to speak. "I'm very proud of you y/n." He paused, wondering if the tone of the hug was really changing or if he was just imagining it, but he took his chance anyway. "And it is I that should be thanking you, the way you have handled the last year has been admirable."

He didn't know how to put the rest of his thoughts into words, that you were all he thought of when he was away, that despite being back at the top, he felt achingly lonely when you weren't around, that he's loved you since he was sixteen. He tightened his arms around you and buried his nose in your hair. "I love you."

It wasn't a strange thing for him to say; you said it to each other all the time; it was the way he said it that gave you pause, but you replied nevertheless. "I love you too Sean."

"Not like that." He pulled away from the embrace, but only enough to place his hand on your cheek. "I've loved you since you showed up on my doorstep in that bubble gum pink dress the night of that stupid year ten dance."

It felt like a dream, the way he tucked a strand of hair behind your ears as he gazed at you like you were the most precious thing on earth. "Your mother bought me that dress. It was hideous."

The distance between you got smaller as you both leaned in, and he whispered against your lips. "I thought you were the most beautiful girl I had ever seen." His nose brushed yours, and his other hand left your back so he could hold your face in his hands as you moved yours to his shoulders. "You are the most beautiful girl I've ever seen."

When his lips found yours, it was like you had the last breath on earth between your lips. Your hands wove into his hair, and you moved in step towards his bed, finally stopping when the backs of your knees hit the edge. You pulled away from each other breathless, his hands moving to your shirt as you spoke. "I knew before you."

He chuckled as he pecked your cheek, his beard brushing your skin as he made his way to your neck. "Is that so?"

"It is." You broke contact only long enough for him to pull your shirt over your head, his polo following as you took in the sight of his bare chest. He was all lean muscle wrapped in pale, freckled skin.

He licked his lips as his eyes raked over your bare skin, then his lips were down your neck to your chest as he reached behind you to unclasp your bra. "When?"

It was hard to reply with his plump lips sealing around your nipple, but he looked at you through his red eyelashes in a way that let you know that silence wasn't an option. "Two weeks before the dance when that Harrison freak ruined my science project after I turned him down and you punched him."

He smiled against your skin before nipping you, the bite of his teeth sending a shiver up your spine. His lips found yours again as your hands moved to his belt, your fingers played with the buckle for a moment, but it was your turn to smile as you moved your hand down to palm his rapidly hardening cock through his black trousers.

It seemed to be tit for tat with him because he slid his hand down from your rib cage to use his long and dexterous fingers to pop open your pants, dispensing with any teasing so he could graze his fingertips over your bare flesh. Your breath caught in your chest as he slid his fingers through your slit, stopping for a moment to rub your clit before they continued with their nonsense patterns.

He parted from you briefly, his face flushed with lust as you managed to get his pants off and pushed them down enough to get your hand on his cock. He gathered himself enough to look at you like he wanted to swallow you whole and kissed his way to your ear to speak. "We have some catching up to do." With that, his hand left your pants, and he brought his fingers up to his lips to lick you off of them.

The sight was enough to make your knees buckle. "Yes, we do."

His lips were restless as you moved onto the bed to lie on your back, and then he was ripping your bottoms off, underpants and all, before shedding his own. "You're not leaving this bed until midday tomorrow."

His fingers were back on your centre, and the look in his eyes was positively heartstopping, a mix of lust and love that made it feel like your skin was on fire. "That's fine with me."

Fin

@daydreaming-belle

#sean wallace #sean wallace/reader #gangs of london fanfiction #sean wallace fanfiction #sean wallace smut #sean wallace x reader #gangs of london #joe cole #sean wallace/you #sean wallace fanfic #sean wallace fic #gangs of london fanfic #gangs of london fic #sean wallace x you

[vibratingskull]

"Can you write Thrawn telling his children about his childhood ? And catching up with them as he returned back home ?" -anon

You're tidying up your big, empty bed when you hear the doorbell rings. 

"Qiagusa can you go see who it is ?" You demand your son, too occupied at the moment. 

You look at your double bed, wondering when was the last time two persons sleeped in it together. A decade, easily, since Thrawn's departure. You let out a discouraged sigh. You mourned him for years, and sometimes you wonder if you did well to never remarry and not giving à father figure to your kids. 

"MUM!" Your son calls. 

You come running down the stair, almost breaking your neck in the process, ready for anything to be thrown at you. 

Anything. 

Except that. 

When you arrive your daughter is also here, they both look at you with apprehension. A third person is at the door. Another Chiss with silver hair on the temples, a stern expression on his face he ports himself haughtily, the back straight despite his age and an air of control emanates from him. 

Despite his age, you know. It's him.

Your eyes lock and you see his sparkling despite him remaining cold. You dare not pass the door to join him, afraid to break the spell and that this apparition disappears. 

"I am home."

_______________

Without hinting at fatigue he continues to walk on the sinuous trail that spread over the Mountain, both of the young adults behind him. They follow him with clear unenthusiasm in their demeanor but follow nonetheless.

It’s been more than a decade but he still remembers the way to the secret place, he turns back to see them both keeping behind with some difficulties.

“Nrequi’agu’sairte, Nreqi'beam'esdora. Do not fall behind.” He only gets grumbles in response.

“Can we take a break?” Qibeames ask, almost stumbling on a root.

“No. A Chiss must prove to be physically capable.” He simply shaked his head. “Besides, we are almost here.”

They both sigh, shuffling along and following reluctantly. They had plans for today and following Thrawn in the deep cavernous mountains wasn’t one of them. They escalate hills and slopes, cross rivers and chasms. Finally, after several hours, they arrive at a cliff with a splendid point of view on the valley under it. Thrawn puts down his backpack and takes the time to appreciate the view. Behind him, they drop theirs on the ground and drop down on the floor, their lifestyle didn’t prepare them for such a hike.

Thrawn breath deep, grounding him in the moment.

“We used to come here regularly with your mother.”

“We know.” Qiagusa sighs “Mom already took us here before.”

“She did?”

“Yeah.” Qibeames takes a large gulp of water from her flask “And she already spilled the whole story. Sorry to break your fantasy of being a good dad, but you’re a bit late for that.”

Thrawn doesn’t take note of the insult, thinly veiled, walks up to them and sits down with them. They consciously or subconsciously retract their legs to prevent him from getting too close. 

“What did she tell you?”

“She spoke about you, if that’s what you’re asking. She bored us about how great of a man you were and how she never believed you were exiled. No matter how the fact contradicted her!” Qiagusa goes on.

“Qiagusa…”

“That’s Nrequi’agu’sairte to you.” He claps back

Thrawn remains silent, looking at the twins, detailing the appearance of the now young adults that once were babies he could hold in his hands long ago. 

Long, long ago.

“I used to have a sister when I was young.” The twins snarl but remain silent. “I loved her dearly. But she soon went away, called by the Ascendancy to protect her people. Then it was my turn, I left my blood family behind to become a Mitth and protect my people to the best of my ability.” 

He stares off in the distance with a sigh as memories overflow him.

“I met your mother and I became the most blessed man alive. She graced me with both of you and my work became even more important for I had now three treasures to protect more than anything else.” 

They keep silent, the animosity slowly quitting their eyes, leaving place to a prudent distance.

“Then the Ascendancy called for me to step in. It called for me to take action to protect what I hold dear. I had to leave you behind to fulfill my mission, and it tore me apart. But I knew it was the right choice. I knew you would be in good hands with your mother, so I left reassured and with certainty I would come back.”

He looks at them both.

“For you.” They don’t dare look him in the eyes. “Even if it took me more time than what I first anticipated, I am glad I am finally back to see the adult you have become. I know I do not have the right to call you my children for now, too much years have been robbed from us and I was not here for you. But I want you to know that you never left my mind and I am delighted to see you again...”

He smile faintly.

“Even as a simple stranger.”

Qiagusa and Qibeames look at each other, a bit embarrassed, before taking the floor.

“You abandoned us.” She gulps.”Despite everything, mum told us to never resent you, that you only did your best every time. She told us the night before your depart you hold on to our hands in our sleep. That you never wanted to leave us behind, but you did for us.”

Thrawn slowly nods as he listens to her. Finally, Qiagusa speaks.

“It will take time… But I’m sure… Someday you’ll be able to use our core names…”

He silently reach for their hands, after an hesitation they take his and he squeezes them.

Father, son, daughter. Finally reunited.

@Bluechiss @thrawnalani @justanothersadperson93 @al-astakbar

@thrawnspetgoose @readinglistfics @elise2174 @debonaire-princess

#thrawn #grand admiral thrawn #thrawn x reader #thrawn x you #thrawn x f!reader #mitth'raw'nurdodo #fanfic #vibratingskull