#He is powerful and has grown so much but he is also my son and I want to protect him

[afterlife-2004]

[ozlices]

nintendo het baiting w sidon and his fiancee only to pull the gayest shit ive seen in a While by having sidon renew his vows w link (they got married at the end of ruta’s quest in botw. obviously. clearly.) and giving him a power that lets him ‘stay by his side forever’. i see you husbands i am so glad your marriage is thriving. good for them. good for them. they also both have two hands for anyone who wants to pull any nonsense im js. there is room for yona she just has to understand link has held sidon’s heart for years first.

[ladyicepaw]

[juletheghoul]

too close

a/n: Yeah. The trailer got me again. I can't help myself!!! Also - I didn't actually want to write feelings for these two but I have no say anymore. They have feelings, they are obsessed with each other and I can't just ignore it lol. Not beta’d and barely proofread- any mistakes or errors are my own. Hopefully you enjoy! (PS I did a little research on fruits in Roman times- they had no word for orange, so any shade of orange was just called red)

Warnings; 18+ no minors, vague but big-legal age gap, piv sex, dirty talk, Marcus eats pussy and I don't CARE, giving him that gluckgluck3000, creampie, Marcus gets hurt (hurt comfort), hand stuff from him because he's my precious man and he likes to give his girl pleasure, master / slave dynamic (power imbalance) he’s still pretty possessive, Marcus calls reader Girl, reader calls Marcus Dominus (for now?👀), **FEELINGS** let me know if I missed any!

This is the fic I referenced in this preview

Pairing: Marcus Acaciusx F!Reader

word count: 5.1k (whoops!)

reblogs are appreciated

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You frowned, despite your station, the confusion and slight worry breaking through the years of training your face to remain neutral. For a moment, you forgot your place.

“But-“ he turned, head tilted in curiosity instead of anger, thankfully, “I am to stay here? You do not wish me to accompany you Dominus? To pour and serve…?” You could not keep the slight hurt from your voice, much to your dismay. 

“No Girl, you will stay here, at the villa.” He saw the confusion, the unabashed anguish on your face and his expression softened, “peace Girl, it is not a matter of not desiring your presence or your service.” You listened to him with a lump in your throat, a wild fear seizing your heart that he might have grown tired of you. 

“I will not have the luxury of a tent, the rebellion is small enough that I can squash it and be back in less than a moon’s turn.” He came close, close enough to have your face tilt up to stare into his eyes. “I would not have you waiting for me in such a meagre camp, I would not have you sleeping in the dirt.” His hand settled on your arm, a soft offering, a reassurance but it did nothing to calm you. You have grown so accustomed to having him close, to ending up in his bed of a night more often than not before heading to your own, naked and pleasantly sore; to falling asleep with his seed trickling out of your puffy little cunt.

“I am comfortable wherever you are Dominus, I could still be of use, to light your fires-“ 

“I would have you here, and safe. That is my decision, and no amount of temptation will sway me from it.” He lifted your hand, pressing his lips to your fingers in silent, but firm apology. You knew there was nothing to be said, you had already pushed the matter far more than would be allowed on a normal day. 

“Your will, Dominus.” You bowed your head, despite the hurt and worry swirling around in your belly. “I will pray to the Gods for your swift victory, and safe return home.” 

He nodded, leaving shortly after. 

Time passed, and a feeling of restlessness took firm root in your being. The house felt empty, despite the attendants and sentinels left to guard them as well as the property. The days found you listless, moving through the motions of your chores and daily duties practically numb. The days were marks on the wall of your mind, praying to the Gods to send him back to you. 

Whispers travelled swiftly through the city, through the market stalls and through the villa itself, most of them rumours and it was difficult to keep your emotions in check. 

He has advanced

He has killed the leaders of the rebellion

He is victorious, already on his way home

He has been hurt

He is dead

He is victorious - Rome's favoured son has triumphed once more

The moon turned, once, and then twice, finally a third time before he was home. The all encompassing relief was short lived however, that wash of relief turned to ashes in your mouth at the sight of him. One of the rumours had been true after all. A sword wound to the side had laid him low late into the battle, it hadn’t killed him, thank the Gods, but it had slowed him down and made his journey home nothing short of agony. 

Your heart raced to see him weakened, every fibre of your being itched to run to him, to press your lips to skin but you refrained. You stood aside, dutifully, letting his trusted soldiers practically carry him to his bed. The older women got to work, bringing fortified wine with all manner of powders and potions to aid in his recovery while you stood next to him, the little half-moon marks in your palms from your nails barely felt like anything compared to the ache in the back of your throat. 

Your eyes would not leave his face. 

He looked so tired, mud and grime still marring his skin as he lay prone on his bed. To forfend the ugly thoughts swirling around in your mind, you focused on the tasks at hand. 

He needs to be cleansed, after he eats something I will boil some water and move gently, leave him to gather his strength. An offering must be made so the Gods will hasten his healing-

“Girl.” His voice was soft, and instantly you rushed to his side. 

“Yes Dominus, I am here.” You took his hand tentatively, your heart soared to feel him squeeze it. 

“Fetch me some broth, and help me to sit up–a few pillows behind me. I would sit upright.” 

You rushed to comply, happy to focus on his instructions. With soft touch, you did your best to prop him up, biting your lip to stop your eyes from welling up when he winced. Once satisfied, you set about fetching hot water and linens, as well as his broth. He sighed at the sight of it, and drank almost all of it within a few heartbeats. 

“Shall I help you cleanse now Dominus?” You brought the basin closer, showing him the steaming water and he nodded. 

Tentatively, you removed the soiled clothes he wore, ears pricked up for any sign of discomfort. He beared it with good grace, keeping the twinges of pain to himself, you imagined for your benefit, and you were grateful. It took time, but finally, you had divested him of everything, and he half sat, half laid on his bed, not an ounce of shame for his nakedness. It was secondary, to see him bare, more alarming was the soiled linens with the dark bloom of dried blood staining it on his side like some grotesque flower. 

He was pale, weak, his injury robbing him of his normal, ruddy health. He watched you, his expression somewhere between exhaustion, and a calm content. 

With gentle hands, you dipped the clean linen into the steaming water of the basin, and methodically cleaned the dirt, and dried blood from his skin. Eventually his eyes closed, soft sighs filled the air with every pass of the warm cloth across his shoulders, down the firm muscles of his thighs, his hands, until you reached the contours of his face. The lines were more defined, this battle had taken a toll on him. 

Your thumbs smoothed over his brows, wiping dust and worry away with a bone deep gratitude that he had come back. He melted into your touch, and you tried and failed to suppress the smile. 

“I must clean the wound, Dominus.” You reached for more clean dressings, giving him a chance to steel himself but he kept his eyes closed. You thought he might have fallen asleep, but he nodded, and so you did what needed to be done. 

To his great credit, he didn’t make a sound. Even as you cleaned at the angry, but healing edges of the wound. He said nothing when you packed it with the poultice one of the women had brought, when you covered it in a clean dressing, even as he drank down the no doubt foul tasting potion to help him sleep. Instead he settled back, and sighed, his eyelashes fluttering against his skin. 

You gathered all of the soiled clothing and discarded bandages, and moved to leave him to rest but his hand snatched at your wrist. 

“Wait, Girl, stay. Stay with me–” His words were almost slurred, and he didn’t finish his thought, his hand loosened around your wrist but you stayed, taking great care to lie beside him on his bed, and watched him sleep. Your heart raced with something you couldn’t–wouldn't name, something that threaded through your ribcage like smoke, wreathing its way around your lungs and taking root in your heart. You pressed the back of your hand to his brow, thankful that no fever lurked there and once satisfied that he was indeed resting, you rested your head next to his. 

Sleep took you, swiftly and without warning. 

The world outside was dark when your eyes opened, and it took a moment for you to get your bearings. His warm skin pressed to your arm and you jolted with the memory of his injury. 

“Peace, girl, I am well.” His voice was quiet, but stronger than before, “You did well in changing my dressings.” His praise squeezed at something in your belly, robbing you of any words you might have had. “You must be hungry, go and fetch something to eat and bring it here, I will share the meal with you.” The concern in his voice brought a smile to your lips, his thoughts on you, despite the pain he must have been in. 

“Yes Dominus, shall I fetch more of the potion as well? You should rest-” He raised his hand softly to forestall you. 

“I have rested enough, I would have my wits about me just now. Go on, you may fetch whatever else you need, I would have you sleeping in my bed.” 

His words rung in your ears as you moved throughout the silent house. They shone through your eyes as you piled a serving tray with olives and cheese, with bread and ripe fruits. They camped in your belly as it rolled with something when they repeated over and over like a prayer in your mind as you filled a serving jug with the wine he favoured, they strengthened your grip as you carried it with the utmost care down the moonlit halls of the house, almost sharpening your eyesight to bring you swiftly back to him. 

You set it down between you on his bed, careful not to spill anything or jostle him too much and just in time too, the hunger rung out from your empty belly loud as thunder but you ignored it, your priority was to help him sit up.

“Eat Girl, you are starving. I will pick at my leisure.” He frowned, gesturing to the food and you were grateful beyond words. It was a quiet meal, but comfortable. He usually ate by himself, most of the time while in his study and with you, it was after chores and duties had been completed. Despite all of your trysts and time spent together, it was the first meal you’d ever shared. 

“You do not favour the olives.” He said it without judgement. You shook your head shyly, covering your mouth to speak through bites of bread and cheese. 

“My desire for them is unpredictable.” He tilted his head, “Sometimes, they are all I want. Other times, I cannot stand the sight of them.” You wrinkled your nose, confirming that this time, the latter statement was true.

He smiled, huffing out an amused laugh through his nose.

“What else do you like? I see you favour the fruit, which one do you like most of all?” It was strange to be asked about yourself, no one in your life had ever wondered about what you might of preferred, for anything.

“Figs, I think. Pomegranates too, although peeling them takes a lifetime.” He huffed again, wincing slightly, “Are you in pain? Shall I fetch–” He raised a hand. 

“I am well, continue. Why do you favour them if they are so troublesome to eat?” He shifted a tiny bit, with great effort, turning to face you better. The room was dark, save for the few candles burning and the moon shining in through his window, casting stark shadows across his lovely face. 

“They are worth the effort.” 

He smiled, and finally reaches over to help himself to the food. Something about the darkness, about the quiet seclusion made you bolder.

“What about you Dominus? Is there a fruit you favour?” Your heart raced, fear that you might have overstepped grabbing hold of you but it was for naught, he merely frowned in thought. 

“I prefer plums.” He said after a moment, “I like figs as well.” It was both exhilarating and strange to speak with him like that, in the quiet dark, almost comfortable. “Although–in my younger days we fought in Spain, and there I tasted a fruit I have never seen again, I do not know the name of it but I enjoyed it very much.” 

“What was it like?”

“It was round, a strange shade of red with a thick peel but underneath it had segments like a lemon.” He continued eating, and you were content to sit with him, only moving the tray once he had eaten his fill.

“It is good to be home.” The words came out as a sigh, “I missed it while I was away, more than any other time I must admit.” He shifted slightly and winced again, “Help me lay flat, my back aches from sitting.” He held out his hand and you rushed to oblige, moving pillows and positioning him flat on his back. “That is better, gratitude Girl, let us blow out the candles and settle in.” 

“Yes Dominus.”

“Have you something to sleep in? What is most comfortable for you?” 

“I am content in this, Dominus.” You gestured to your tunic as you made your way around the room, snuffing out the candlelight.

“That is not what I asked you.” There was no bite in his words, but the expectation of truth was plain as day. 

“Most nights I sleep in the nude, it is what is most comfortable for me.” You made your way back to the bed but he did not let you get in. 

“Please, make yourself comfortable, there is no expectation from me, much as I have missed the pleasures of your body. I would have you sleep how you are accustomed.” You nodded once, undressing down to your skin before slipping into bed with him. In the dark, in the quiet, it was peaceful and the sound of his steady breathing worked it spell on you quicker than you would have thought. 

“Gratitude Girl.” He said it soft, and with a full belly and heavy lids, you questioned him. 

“For what Dominus?” The words were almost slurred, as the heavy press of sleep pushed you into the deep pool of blackness. You thought you heard him say everything, but you could not be sure, sleep had claimed you. 

-

You woke with the sun, the first few rays sliding across your skin like water and it was hard to move from your place. In the night, your body had brought you close to him, seeking out the warmth of him. He was still asleep, but his legs had tangled up with yours and it was strange to lay with him like this, both of you nude as the day you were born, yet incredibly comforting. 

You took the time to check over his wound, and were pleased to find it looking much better. The edges of it stitching together, thankfully without corruption. 

“It does not hurt as much as it did before.” His voice was sleepy, “I will be back on my feet soon enough.”

“Let me dress Dominus, and I will fetch you something to break your fast.” 

“Not just yet.” He shifted, and although you helped him, he didn’t struggle quite as much. “Come, lie with me.” He held out his arm, and you went to him, trembling like a leaf to rest your head on his shoulder. “Gods, I missed you, Girl.” He buried his nose into the mess of your hair and something inside you grew and swelled, was fed and made strong by his words and by his skin. 

“I missed you, Dominus.” Truer words had never been spoken by you, the ache for him had been unbearable.

“Did you?” There was something underneath, something desperate and had it not been so early, so peaceful, he might not have asked.

“Desperately Dominus, I feared you had abandoned me, I feared you no longer desired me.” You pressed your face into his neck, breathing him in, his scent, his warmth, him- sustenance

“Come now, Girl, you know of my desire for you, it is like a thirst I cannot quench. A hunger I cannot satisfy, despite my dark moods, despite my sour face, you are a source of joy and pleasure I have not known in some time.” His hand brought your face up, his gaze burned into yours and his words affected you so that tears welled in your eyes. He wiped them away, and the tenderness was too much, a sob clawed its way out from your throat. All of the worry, all of the fear that he might have left you alone in the world, to be sold to another bubbled up and he held you as you cried.

“Do you wish to be free of me? Is that why you cry?” Something in his voice broke your heart.

“No Dominus, no-“ you wiped at your eyes, moving to look him in the eye and the expression you saw in them was almost too much to bear. “I have never been so happy in all my life, I have never felt about anyone, the way I feel for you.” You pressed your lips to his, petal-soft. 

“Sometimes, the things I feel for you are almost too big for my body, I want to be with you always, I want to feel you always. I feared so much while you were gone that I could barely eat, barely sleep-” Your words were frantic, so many things to get out that you could barely speak and he pulled you close, shushing you softly. 

“My heart swells to hear you speak this way.” He reached down, sliding his hand towards the hinge in your knee, to pull it over his thigh. “Peace, let us just enjoy the silence.” You nodded into his neck, letting go of a great breath in your lungs. 

“If I was myself, and whole, I would be pulling every ounce of pleasure from you now.” 

You laughed at the annoyance in his tone.

“Soon enough Dominus, I would have you healthy and healed.” Your hand slid up the smooth expanse of his chest, threading through the curls at the base of his skull. “Once your wound has healed, you may have me any way you please.” 

“Any way?” His tone darkened, and your body responded, thighs clenching, heart racing, nipples hardening. “Any way I please? And what if I want you for a day and a night? What if I want you wet and spread for me in this bed until you’re so full of my gift it spills all over my linens?” The hand that had been softly stroking your back moved down and grabbed at your backside, pulling until the lips of your sex spread open. 

A moan slipped out at the feel of his hands, and he all but growled. 

“Do not make those noises Girl, not when I cannot fuck you how I wish to.” He pulled your face up, licking into your mouth with a hunger you could not satisfy, not in his current state. 

“Dominus, I beg of you not to taunt me, not when we cannot indulge.” You kissed him again, despite your words and finally he pulled away, the tremble of frustration in his grip. You shifted, and felt his manhood press against your thigh, the sight of him, leaking and hard against his belly made you sigh. 

“Do not concern yourself with that, I am ravenous for you, but my body cannot fulfill the wishes of my cock. Go and fetch something to break our fast. I will need you to change my dressing as well, if you could.” He sent you off with a kiss, and with desire dripping onto your thighs. 

“Yes Dominus.” You smiled, and rushed off to do what needed to be done. 

-

Weeks passed, and he healed beautifully. His wound knit together cleanly and with that, his strength came back. More often than not he stood and cleansed without your help, he left the safety of his bed and his chambers and sported a genuine smile as he made his rounds through his house.

You trailed behind him, your own smile in place to see him coming back into himself. 

Things were different. He was different. 

He spoke more, that was for one. Before he would keep his own council, his words were curt and his thoughts would be kept close to his chest. Some nights he reverted to his silence, but it had grown into something peaceful, something comfortable.

The biggest change though, was his attitude towards you. 

For one, he refused to sleep alone. The darkness of night found you tending to his needs and after the candles had been snuffed- he pulled your tunic off and pulled you into his bed, into his arms. 

At first, you thought it was his injury, a fear that he might suffer some setback in his sleep, but as the days passed on and he was well past the point of danger, he still refused to let you go. 

His desire had come back too, much quicker than his body could handle. Mornings would find you in the cage of his arms, with his lust pressed hard and hot at the cleft of your ass. You would pull away so as not to tease him, and he would let you at first, but as his body caught up to him, he stopped letting you pull away. 

Most mornings, he’d whisper how much he missed burying himself inside you, how he couldn’t wait to gift you with his seed while slipping his fingers between your legs and swirling them around your clit, only stopping after you’d fluttered around his fingers. Then he’d send you off to fetch food with a smile on your face and an ever-growing ache between your thighs. 

A part of you fretted as to why he hadn’t taken you yet, as the days passed it was clear that he was well enough to indulge. Another part, a hopeful, possibly quite foolish part of you thought maybe he was waiting for you to ask him. That couldn’t be, could it? You ruminated on your previous encounters, yes–he’d called you forth to warm his bed, but with every recalled memory it was clear that in his own way, he'd let you decide whether to push things or not. A luxury you knew was rare. It was an intoxicating thought though, to think that you could decide when and what you wanted him to do.

So many possibilities. 

When night came, you brought him his meal, and his wine and tried to keep the tremble of excitement out of your hands. You watched him move about his chambers, his strength back to normal as he dipped his hands into the fresh water in his basin. His hair had grown out a little, dark with silver mixed through and that thought struck you again, that he was some beautiful marble statue come to life. An emperor of old, standing before you in all his glory. 

“Dominus-” You called to him, unable to hold back any longer. His eyes raised, finding you as he dried his hands. 

“Before you take your meal, I would ask something of you.” Your voice shook, never had you openly asked him for anything before. He raised his eyebrows, more surprised than anything.

“What would you have of me Girl?” He moved towards you, eyes curious. 

“I would have you–” You stopped him, guiding him to sit on his bed, “I would have you sit here, and accept my mouth.” 

You kneeled before him, staring up at him with your lip caught between your teeth. Your hands landed on his knees, sliding up to pull his tunic up to expose his manhood. For a moment, he stared at you with wide, surprised eyes. 

“I have missed our times together, I have missed you filling me of a night and as much as I treasure your fingers in the morning, I would have you feel pleasure at my hand–or, my mouth.” He did not stop you from exposing him and heat flooded your body to see how quickly his cock responded to your words, to the soft exploration of your hand. 

“You would do this?” His palm landed on your shoulder, sliding up to cup your cheek. “You have no obligation, I would not command you to do this should you not want to.” You spit onto your palm and grasped him in hand and despite his words, he shudderred to feel the way you stroked him. 

“I dream about this Dominus, I desire you so deeply that I ache for you–” You opened your mouth and took the blunt tip of him into your mouth. He moaned, slack-jawed at the sight of you. You placed open mouthed kisses at the tip, and the sensitive underside, stroking at the base of him. His thighs spread, making room for you and you relished the warm strength of them under your arms. 

He tasted like the ocean. 

“God’s above Girl-” You pulled away, smiling as you continued to stroke him, he barely fit in the palm of your hand and with his passion dribbling out and your spit the sounds were loud and slick. Your own arousal unspooled between your legs, the ache intensifying as he tensed underneath you, hissing when you pressed soft kisses to the scar at his side, to the softness of his belly, to the firm golden thighs bracketing you to his hips. 

“Open your mouth.” His confidence resurfaced, and then his hand wrapped around yours, guiding you to stroke him the way he liked. He guided the reddened tip into your mouth. “Look at me when you take me in your mouth, open wide, I want to touch your throat.” You moaned around him, taking him deeper, breathing through your nose in an attempt to stay calm. 

“That’s it Girl, Gods be damned-” His tone was filthy as he held you there, eyes watering until you pulled away, sputtering and messy. 

“If you continue, I will spill in your mouth.” he guided your hand still, slowly stroking himself against your lips, smearing your spit and his salty arousal onto your lips. Never in your life have you felt that powerful, that beautiful, with tears spilling down your face and slick dripping down your thighs. He held himself suspended in his pleasure, awaiting your word. 

“Would you like to spill in my mouth Dominus? Or would you like to fill my cunt?” You held out your tongue, letting him rub the tip of himself against it while he decided. Your heart soared to see the conflict on his face. 

“I would fill your cunt, I have missed it terribly.” You smiled and rose with a final kiss to his cock and once you did, he ripped the tunic off your body. The loud tear of it made you squeal with a mix of shock and excitement. 

“I promise you, I will not last.” He all but tossed you onto his bed, spreading your legs wide for his gaze. “Greedy little cunt, so wet for me.” He spoke in a daze, staring at the place that ached at the mere thought of him. He slipped down and it’s with a shock that you watched him dip down to spear into you with his tongue. Never had anyone used their mouth on you and the sight of it was almost too much to bear.

It’s with a greedy, filthy groan that his lips dragged up to latch around the pert little pearl of you, his tongue stroking, stroking, stroking while his mouth suctioned around it. Your body was a taut string, legs shaking under the strong grip of his hands, holding you to him tight enough to hurt. Your breathing came in pants, the climax was already there, balancing on a knife's edge, so close you could almost taste it.

His hands moved, sliding up to pinch at your nipples and the wave crested. Your hands gripped into his curls, both holding him close, and desperately pushing him away while you fluttered into his mouth. 

You felt the strong muscle of his tongue slide down, drinking you from the source. 

He made his way back up, your slick shining on his face and on his whiskers. You’re almost too shocked, and too shy to look into his eyes. 

“I confess, I have wanted to do that for a long time.” He pulled his tunic up and off as you lay under him, boneless. “I know it’s not something commonly done, but I enjoy it. Did you enjoy it? I felt you flutter.” He raised your leg, wrapping it around his hip while his cock slipped inside you without any resistance. You let out a relieved sigh, finally, he was home. 

“Yes Dominus–” You almost whispered, half-shy as he dropped down, his arms holding himself up on either side of your skull. “No one has ever–Oh–” He snapped his hips hard, unable to hold himself back and already, the need built in your core, robbing you of any coherent thoughts. 

“No one but me ever will.” He kissed you, making you taste yourself and it was so perverse, so exhilarating you held him close, wrapping your arms and legs around him to feel as much of him as you could. His cock pushed and pulled, hitting that special place he owned and with a handful of thrusts, and a punched out groan he filled you with his gift. Finally. 

He watched himself pull out of the mess he'd made, watched in silence as his gift dripped out and onto his linens. 

Things felt different this time, there’s a vulnerability, an intimacy that is almost overwhelming. You pulled his face up, and pressed your lips to his softly, praying that you conveyed the feelings swirling in your chest. He kissed you back, his hand gliding up to wrap around your neck. When you opened your eyes, his brow was furrowed, the same feelings shining back at you through his dark eyes. 

Seconds passed, and the feeling did not disperse. Before he would have sent you away, but he held you close. Wordlessly he pressed his lips to yours over and over, he stroked at your skin, your shoulder and your thigh high on his ribs, your breast, your lips. He moved off, and went about dampening a cloth to clean himself off of you. Once he was done, he brought the food you’d served him and fed you from his own hand. 

You accepted the food, smiling shyly as he watched you, something like affection, like love shining out through his eyes. 

“Thank you Dominus–” He shook his head, a small frown at your words. 

“Call me Marcus.”

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[versias]

Demon Twins AU

- Maddie was trained by the League of Assassins and was sent back to America to pursue her theory that Lazarus water was ectoplasmic residue. She joined the only paranormal studies course in the country and met likeminded scientists Jack Fenton and Vlad Masters.

- Maddie fell in love with Jack and they pursued their research together, attempting to break into the “ghost zone”, the hypothetical in-between where the energy of death collected in order to collect pure ectoplasm samples. (And possibly capture a ghost for study.)

- They Sort-Of succeeded (sorry Vlad but science marches on) and Maddie proved ectoplasm and Lazarus water were related. LoA allowed her to stay and continue her research, providing her with funding so long as she sent reports. Occasionally she had to do a mission since she was in the area, but it was usually simple and low stakes.

- Then, when Jazz is 2 years old, Maddie is called back to the League to witness the birth of the Demon’s Heirs. The babies were grown in LW using her data so she basically has to become a physician for the babies.

- The younger twin’s heart stopped when he was pulled out of the water. She rushed to save him, using pure ectoplasm from her research and it worked. Even though Danyal is deemed the inferior twin, he’s kept alive and trained to act as a benchmark/motivation for the true heir Damian.

- Maddie falls in love with the little boy whose health she’s in charge of. Talia notes that this researcher cares for her child as if it was her own.

- When Ra’s decides to have Danny and Damian duel as a sort of initiation and trial to prove his worth as the heir (something that leaves psychological scars on both Danny and Damian, thanks Ra’s.), Damian kills Danny and Maddie is devastated over the body.

- Talia grabs her and the body and sneaks them into the Lazarus pits to bring her child back. Then she hands Danny to Maddie and tells her to raise him as her own, protect him as her own, and she will erase Maddie’s debt to the league.

- Maddie runs with her new son back to America and tells her family that the job she had is completed and “hey Jack sorry I forgot to mention our son I was so caught up in my work! Yeah, whenever I visited five years ago I got pregnant and forgot to mention it! Whoopsie daisy!”

- Jack believes this because he’s forgetful sometimes and also why would his lovely, beautiful, brilliant wife lie to him. He welcomes five year old Danny into his life as his son despite him only superficially looking like him and for some reason having much darker skin. Who knows, genetics isn’t his area of expertise!

- Besides even if Maddie lied to him she probably had a good reason! He’s always wanted a son anyway!!

- Jazz is far more suspicious of this but she’s all of seven and also this poor kid looks terrified and traumatized so. She’ll let it go. And also help him settle in, as is right for a Big Sister.

- Danny has psychological and physical scars but grows up loved and cared for. He misses his brother, but he wasn’t worthy to stand beside him—grandfather said so and it must be so. He didn’t want to be a weight on his brother’s neck, dragging him down

- He makes friends with Tucker and then Sam who don’t judge him for strange mannerisms and who like him for who he is.

- Maybe it’s not the life he would have chosen for himself, but it is a good life. He decides he can be happy here in Amity Park, secure in the knowledge that his brother was off conquering and thriving.

- Then Maddie and Jack finish the Portal, which would theoretically allow travel into the Ghost Zone to continue their work. The pinhole fractures they can now reliably create to power weapons and technology prove the theory and this is the next step!

- Danny Dies In The Portal and a hole is ripped open between worlds. DP series takes place as normal!

- Mixed Reveal since Maddie and Jack are researchers first and foremost. They don’t want to hurt their children but they want to study! They capture a different ghost so they can learn more about how the anatomy works, because they need to take care of their half-ghost son.

- Danny is appalled and horrified to find them dissecting some struggling specter. They are so fucking earnest about it, trying to tell him that they want to make sure they understand how he’s put together so if he gets hurt they can help and it’s not like they can Kill ghosts so it’s only a temporary necessity in pursuit of knowledge!!

- Danny releases the ghost and later, steals their research and destroys the portal. He flees. He knows they won’t hurt him but he thought they wouldn’t Do That either and they did so he’s terrified.

- Danny’s friends help him escape and set up a fake id and passport. His plan is to get to Gotham and find the Bat who will hopefully be able to Adult this situation. He’s not expecting to be welcomed as his son; by all accounts the Batman has no idea Talia even made children with his DNA so he isn’t even going to mention being his son.

- Meanwhile Damian has been Robin for four years and slowly adjusting to his new normal. He doesn’t think about his dead brother; he isn’t allowed to, and though he’s left the league, the league has not left him entirely.

- He is patrolling with his father when an unknown teenager flags them down. Batman is suspicious of course but the kid seems to be earnestly calling for help. He has Robin hang back out of caution and approaches the unknown himself.

- Holy Fuck He Looks Like Damian

- He doesn’t act like a clone or anything. He has an impressively obvious midwestern accent and uses slang like a typical teen. He tells him, a little hysterically, about his parents being scientists and the fucking portal to hell they opened in their basement, about finding them experimenting on an inter-dimensional being that may or may not be an actual human spirit, and briefly details taking his sisters car across four states in a manic road trip to find the Batman.

- Batman is like, why me? There are closer heroes. Why not call the justice league hotline?

- “Hoo boy Mr. Batman see the thing is Amity Park is Dangerous and full of ghosts so I didn’t want metas showing up where they’d get overshadowed and I’d have to? Like? Fight a possessed Superman or something.”

- Why would you be the one fighting??

- Danny is impressively bad at keeping his mouth shut about secrets but to be fair, he’s meeting his father for the first time and the Batman is super cool and intimidating and also he’s remembering his mom and his brother and that’s reminding him of his new family and how everything has probably irreparably fallen apart and oh no

- Oh no he’s crying in front of Batman. Oh fuck, he’s sobbing in front of his father and this is his first impression. Oh ancients he’s never gonna want anything to do with Danny after this mess and it’s not like he was going to say anything but apparently there was this small hope at the bottom of his heart that he’d be welcomed and loved. That somehow his Father would just know this was his son and hug him and make everything better.

- Batman is awkwardly trying to decide if he wants to risk hugging a dangerous unknown, unstable possible-meta-adjacent teenager while he’s having a breakdown on a rooftop when Robin lands next to him and says something that freezes the blood in Bruce’s veins:

- “Brother?”

[alisonwritesimagines]

Birthweek ~BatFam Imagine~

Summary: It's your birthweek and your family celebrates it with you.

Author’s Note: In honor my birthday that has passed, here is a little imagine!

Reader’s Pronouns: She/Her

Warnings: fluff, mentions of smut in the end

Do not repost this anywhere!

Growing up, you had a birthday. Then after you began to date Bruce, you got a birthday weekend. Then when you and Bruce adopted your children, you got a birthweek.

Since you had adopted so many kids, they each wanted to do something special for you. So to be able to celebrate your birthday with almost each of them, they declared that the week of your birthday was to be celebrated with you.

"Happy birthweek my love," Bruce says, waking you up with kisses.

"Mmm. Thank you."

"Today is not my day thought unfortunately. Dick and Jason have the day with you," Bruce tells you.

"What about Martha?" You asked.

"The rest of us got her. You just enjoy the day with your first two sons," Bruce tells you. You smiled softly before kissing your husband.

You got dressed before heading downstairs where Jason and Dick were getting the table set up for you.

"Happy birthday mom," Dick says as he walked over to you. He kissed your head before going back to the kitchen.

"Happy birthday ma," Jason said, following Dick's actions.

"I thought you two were banned from the kitchen," you tell them.

"First surprise! Jason and I have been taking cooking lessons for you," Dick tells you.

"Really? Awe."

"Made you pancakes and some scramble eggs and bacon," Dick tells you.

"Where's Alfred?" You asked.

"We told him to take it easy till we go," Dick explained.

"And what plans do you boys have for me today?" You asked.

"Oh you're going to love it," Jason tells you.

The boys had taken you to a rage room. And to their shock, you had broken almost everything to tiny pieces. You walked out of the room with them with a smile.

"I just feel so much better. "

"I didn't know you had so much anger in you mom," Jason says.

"I'm married to Bruce Wayne. I have a lot of anger in me," you tell them.

"Guess we know where to take you every once in a while now," Dick said.

"I'd like that. Where should we go for lunch?" You asked.

"Anywhere you want! Out treat."

The next day, Duke, Tim, and Damien took you to a museum. You liked learning about history and living in one of the original 13 colonies, you enjoyed the museum with your three boys.

"I love learning about history. It's so fascinating," you tell your sons as you looked at some dinosaur bones.

"Me too," Tim said.

"Are you sure you're okay with this? We can always do something else," Duke tells you.

"Oh don't be silly. I want to do this. Dick and Jason took me to a rage room the other day. I'd like to do something calming," you tell them.

"Ummi, let's go look over here," Damien said as he lead you over to another room.

After the museum, you four had dinner at a rooftop restaurant.

"We saw this during patrol once and thought you'd like to eat here," Damien tells you.

"This is really nice. You boys have good taste," you tell him.

"Is Bruce planning on doing something big for you?" Duke asked me.

"I'm not sure. He's keeping his present a surprise," you tell him.

"Well, you deserve everything you want for your birthday," Tim tells you.

"Thank you boys."

"We also got you some presents," Damien said as he handed you a neatly wrapped present.

The following day, you, Stephanie, Cassandra, and Barbara had a spa day as well as a shopping day. Dick had dropped off Martha to you after your spa so you can take her shopping.

"It's nice to have a day with just us girls," you tell them.

"Happy birthday mom," Cassandra said as she hugged you.

"Thank you. I'm just glad I can hang out with my girls," you say as you held out a dress for Martha.

"Who gets you for tomorrow?" Stephanie asked you.

"Alfred and I are going to have lunch with Clark's parents tomorrow," you tell her.

You had grown close with Clark's parents as they didn't have powers like you and they knew what it was like to have someone they love as a superhero. On the plus side, they were kind and were always there for you. They even checked up on you when you were pregnant with Martha.

"That sounds fun."

"Yeah. We're taking the jet over to see them," you mention.

"Well, let's get you guys a cute outfit then," Stephanie says.

Alfred and you headed to the Kent farm where Clark's parents were happy to see you three.

"Happy birthday Y/n," Martha greeted.

"Thank you!"

"Oh let me see Martha," she says as she let out a small laugh. You handed your daughter over as the two Marthas smiled at each other.

"It's been a while since we had a baby running around here," Jonathan says as he cooed at the baby.

"Well, luckily we got one right here," you smiled.

"I think I remember hearing that you have a birthweek?" Martha asked you.

"The kids wanted to celebrate my birthday with me each so Bruce came up with the idea of celebrating a whole week so I can spend a day with a couple of kids leading up to my birthday," you tell her.

"That's nice. What does Bruce have planned for you?"

"I'm not sure. He always manages to surprise me," you say.

"Do you know Alfred?" Jonathan asked him.

"Yes. I know she will love it," Alfred answered.

"If you need a babysitter, we'd be glad to babysit," Martha tells you.

"I will keep that in mind," you laughed.

Finally it was Bruce's time to shine. You had woken up to see that you were on the Wayne private plane.

"Where are we going?" You asked.

"Well, I know you told me that you have been wanting to go back to Europe. So I thought, why don't we go back now? We got Martha a passport and the kids' passports are updated so I got the plan ready as well as the kids and we are on our way right now," Bruce tells you.

"Really?!"

"Yes. So no Batman duties for a whole week. Just us, the kids, and your birthday," Bruce tells you.

You gave him a quick kiss before relaxing with your children on the plane.

You had landed in France and went to the hotel first. The girls got you dressed in a beautiful gown before Bruce came in, dressed in a tux, ready to take you on a romantic dinner.

"You look beautiful," Bruce says in awe. You smile at him before holding his hand.

"I'm guessing a dinner date for just the two of us?" You asked.

"The kids have other plans so it will just be the two of us," Bruce tells you.

"What a shame," you joked.

The restaurant Bruce picked out was perfect. You had some good food and wine before Bruce took you on a stroll near the Eiffel Tower.

"There's one more present I'd like to give you," Bruce tells you.

"What is it?" You asked.

Bruce pulled out a medium sized box that had the most gorgeous necklace.

"I want to give you the world. You're my wife and the mother of my children. I want you to know how much I love you," Bruce tells you.

"You know actions speak louder than words," you remind him.

"That's why, I want to tell you that, every Friday night, I am all yours. No Batman duties. Just you and our children," Bruce says.

"Thank you," you say. You leaned up and kissed Bruce before pulling away. "I love you."

"And I love you," Bruce says with a soft smile.

"We have a separate room from the rest right?" You asked.

"Yes."

"And is Martha sleeping with one of the kids tonight?" You asked.

"She can. Why?"

"Well, it's been five months since Martha's been born and I sure have missed our time alone together in the bedroom," you tell Bruce. Bruce smiled down at you before giving you another kiss.

"Whatever the birthday girl wants, the birthday girl gets," Bruce said before holding your hand and leading you back to the hotel.

[good-advice-ganondorf]

Majora's Mask and what it means to be grown up

(aka my collected analysis of the Legend of Zelda Majora's Mask)

I will say that generally I don't think Termina is purgatory, or a dream, or anything like that. To me, Termina is kind of like a Silent Hill type parallel world, where you face your deepest traumas.

First, the parallels between Majora's Mask, and the child section of Ocarina of Time.

The first dungeon for both games is in a vast wooded area, there are woodland races inhabiting both areas, the Kokiri for Ocarina of Time, and the Deku for Majora's mask. The second dungeon is in a great mountain, inhabited by the Gorons. The third dungeon is in a vast body of water, inhabited by the Zora.

Then, things split. After Jabu Jabu, Link becomes an adult. After Great Bay, there's Ikana Canyon. A land of nothing but Death.

Who caused the death of Ikana? Who else but the king, Igo Du Ikana. Ikana was plunged into disrepair, after Igos started a war with a clan of Ninjas, to receive a powerful artifact, in a great and mysterious temple. Sound familiar? It should, this is exactly what Ganondorf did, after Link was sealed away for seven years. But Ganondorf was successful.

But Ikana isn't completely occupied by the dead, no. Pamela remains, with her father, turned into an undead monster. Much like Sheik, the last Sheikah, who is revealed to be Zelda. And her father? He's never seen, but I'd imagine it would be easy enough for Ganondorf to become king, if the other one was no longer around. From a man, to a corpse.

So, if Ganondorf is a parallel to Igos, and Zelda is a parallel to Pamela, what about Link? He's a little different. I believe that, along with Kafei and Tingle, all three of the transformation masks are a representation of Link, and his feelings towards being forced to grow up.

Tingle is, as we know, a 35 year old man who thinks he's a fairy boy. Similar to how link was a 10 year old boy, who thought he was a fairy boy. I believe Tingle is a reflection of what Link could have been if he never left Kokiri Forest. An adult hylian man, thinking he's a Kokiri.

On the contrary, Kafei is distraught at the idea of becoming a child again. He's weaker, he can't marry his fiancee, and everyone treats him like well, a child, despite his maturity. I believe this is how Link feels after becoming a child again. He used to be a strong adult, and even if he's not as mature as Kafei, he still went through a lot, and knows a lot more about life now. Kafei even reuses Link's model and animations.

There's a reoccurring theme in Ocarina of Time where Link just doesn't belong anywhere he goes. He's an outsider to the other races, because he's a hylian, but he's also an outsider to the hylians, because he was raised as a Kokiri. I think the transformation masks reflect that.

The Deku Butler's Son is what he could have been as a Kokiri. He could have been a happy little boy, living with his father, and his community. But Link and the Deku butler's son both left home to explore, and as far as both the Kokiri and the Deku are concerned, neither came back.

Darmani is what he could have been as a Goron. A powerful hero to the Gorons, celebrated by them for clearing Dodongo's Cavern. A close link between the goron elder, Darunia, and their sons. Both him and Link remain after death, lamenting on their histories as heros.

Mikau is what he could have been as a Zora. Maybe not a cool as hell guitarist, but a husband to Ruto, and Prince of the Zora Who would stop at nothing to keep her happy and safe, like infiltrating a fortress, or climbing inside of a whale.

Even the Fierce Deity is just Link, but back as an adult. As if so much changed so rapidly, he felt like he transformed into something less like himself, and more like a powerful god. He could have continued being strong, and powerful, the defeater of Ganon, but he had to become a child again. He has to stay as a small, and unknown child.

The ages of the masks even match the human life cycle. According to the debug menu (and if you subscribe to the theory that Link and DBS's ages were swapped), DBS is 5, Link is 12, Darmani is 30, Mikau is 78, and, Fierce Deity is 17, likely due to his model being recycled from adult Link's. Link starts the game in the body of a 5 year old, then a 12 year old, then a 30 year old, then a 72 year old, and finally, a God.

We don't exactly know how Link feels. But I can't imagine it would be easy to go from a child, with no concept of death, to be thrust into a position where he's forced to fight and kill an adult man so much stronger than he is. And then everything was just reversed. Like that. As if it never happened. And only Link remembers the impending doom he faced. All he can do is remember Ganondorf's reign. Almost like he's reliving the same few days, again, and again, and again.

[jester-lover]

Dorm Leaders with a Girlfriend who wears Suits

Warnings: fluff, very flustered boys, insecurity (not from the reader), talks of gender roles/identity, whoever reads this is so cool, reader is so hot and confident (did I mention she’s so hot)

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle has grown up in a certain structure, men lead, women follow, women lead, sons follow

When he sees you, dressed to the nines, not a care for the stares of others; something in him snapped

Head over heels

Considering his rule following tendencies, he is immensely attracted to the rebellious flair of a woman in a suit

You tend to notice him staring at you whenever you wear your male uniform

You always wink at him, reminding him you can see him too

Strawberry Riddle

“Um- well I wasn’t staring! It’s just- you look really pretty…”

Leona Kingscholar

Yes.

PLEASE.

His familial structure is very matriarchal, so seeing you, a confident woman just hits something in his soul

Bro, if you wear the male uniform, he will (politely) ask you to model the Savannaclaw uniform

If you do he’s literally on one knee

Girlfriend? I think you mean WIFE

Also he’s a lil afraid of you considering your confidence, you have a lot of power over people

Trying so hard to be all suave and cool and still such a sucker for you it’s funny

“Woah. I didn’t think anyone could make it work better than me.”

Azul Ashengrotto

He definitely thought you were a competitor at first

Who else would have such smooth banter, such playful glances, than an enemy trying to hinder his business!!

You definitely ask him out because he’s so in his own head, when you do, it’s like the wires in his brain connect finally

Also has a staring problem, the way that you walk with complete confidence, absolute disregard for anyone who speaks ill of you; he dreams of being like that

You lovelovelove pulling him in by his tie for a kiss, because he definitely places his hands on your shoulders all startled

“That lipstick suits you… What?! You think it’ll suit me too?! Don’t just s-say things like that!”

Kalim Al-Asim

Wowie!

This is the best combo ever, smiley pretty boy and a woman with endless personality

He literally buys you anything you want, new suit? Down. Makeup perfectly matching a new suit? Amazing! New shoes with a new suit? Take his credit card!

Kalim literally wants you to have anything you could possibly desire, so

Will buy both of you matching suits for galas and other occasions, and if anyone has the GALL to look down in you for your clothes, he’ll just leave along with you.

The public disgrace that would happen to that person for insulting the s/o of a member of the affluent Al-Asim family would be TREMENDOUS

“You look absolutely radiant. We look so cool!”

Vil Shoenheit

Masculine Wife, Feminine Husband.

He is so down you don’t even get it.

You help him out of the car? It’s trending on magicam in seconds.

Put your coat on a puddle so he can walk past without damaging his shoes? The paparazzi is loving it.

He adores your dynamic, the confidence you have matched his, and it contrasts with the opposite fashion you wear

“Dearest, the rose pinned to your lapel is a perfect match for the color of my overcoat, we will look stunning!”

Idia Shroud

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Idia saw you once and he literally froze on the spot, you walked around like you owned the school!

The crisp edges of your suit reminded him of the butler from one of his favorite anime, so he was immediately nervous to talk to you

When you start dating, he begins to wonder what cosplays you would look good in,

Spy, demon butler, vampire princess, the possibilities are endless with your androgynous fashion

This one time, you took off your blazer, so you just wore a button up and slacks, and you looked so domestic, so old Hollywood beautiful, he burst into red flames

“I can’t believe you settled for someone like me. WHAT-what??! Stop calling me handsome! You really mean it? Wow…I- “

Malleus Draconia

Malleus loves this so much

The sheer power you exude, walking into every room and demanding attention, feminine mixed with masculine creating beauty beyond mankind

He’s obviously obsessed

On your nightly walks, he notes how you choose to take off the blazer in preference of a cardigan, he loves looking at little changes in your wardrobe

Mal is an old being, he’s seen fashion evolve, but I love to think he enjoys 40s/50s era fashion, the way that you choose to portray that style, he loves even more

As you grow more comfortable around one another, more affectionate, malleus will enjoy fixing your tie and buttoning your vests, small acts of domesticity feel so meaningful

He is another who will buy you expensive clothes, his future queen deserves the best

“My love, your tie is crooked. Perhaps you simply wanted me to fix it hm? Such a sly move…”

Welcome back to J sucks at dialogue and cries over pretty women.

But honestly I wrote this bc I want to feel more confident, and I want you to feel more confident!!!! I see a good amount of insecure reader posts, which are very good and comforting! But I would love to see more confident reader inserts. Thanks for reading, women in suits are amazing, and goodbye.

[ghostchems]

infernal - terzo x f!reader - part seven

and now... a flashback chapter

art by the always amazing @piaart

author’s note: i feel like shit but it helped me finish this up. plenty of terzo pain here meanwhile reader is home, blissfully unaware. i also have no idea if my writing is good at this point but here ya go! part one/two/three/four/five/six. ao3 link.

If you could see the wreck I am these days, you’d have new reasons to stay away. Just hold my hand for a little while —

Misery never goes out of style.

Terzo traces a delicate finger along one of the bags under his eyes, no longer concealed by the dark eye paint he once wore. His brows furrow at the sight of himself in the mirror. The wrinkles have deepened since he left the stage. His hair, now less lustrous, betrays gray strands emerging from his roots and sideburns. All those years spent cultivating his image, trying to become the perfect imperfection that Lucifer himself boasted—only to unravel after one fateful show. He grits his teeth, his mismatched eyes sharpening in his reflection.

With all the glitz stripped away, he loathes how much he now resembles his father…

Terzo forces the thought out of his head. His days are spent analyzing his time as Papa and what went wrong. He wouldn’t do anything differently but it still stung, especially after the new heights and exposure he had achieved for the Ministry. Somehow, it was not enough. His father was never proud of him, a theme that stretched throughout his entire life. Terzo was only ever the Third to him, the third son that would serve his purpose and then be pushed aside for whoever was next. While this had been the typical progression, Terzo was the fool who thought he would be different — even after being warned by Secondo.

Secondo.

“Cazzo.”

He’s late for Uno Night.

The once-revered Emeritus brothers now find themselves relegated to a desolate corner of the abbey with their only entertainment being a silly card game. Their influence wanes with each passing day. Terzo can't help but sneer at the irony of their situation - former leaders now barely more than forgotten relics, with only each other’s company. There was a time when the Emeritus brothers were revered as gods among men. Crowds would surge forward at their concerts, desperate to touch the hem of their robes or catch a glimpse of their painted faces. Devotees would line up for hours, sometimes days, just for the chance to receive a blessing or a fleeting moment of attention. Their every word was treated as gospel, their gestures analyzed and imitated by legions of faithful followers.

In the halls of the Ministry, their presence commanded instant respect and adoration. Ghouls and Siblings of Sin alike would bow their heads in reverence as they passed. Their chambers were filled with lavish gifts from admirers - exotic incense, priceless artifacts, and fervent love letters. The very air seemed to crackle with power and dark allure whenever they entered a room. Now, that electric atmosphere has faded to a dull static. The gifts have stopped coming, the adoring crowds have moved on to newer, shinier idols. The once-mighty Emeritus brothers find themselves grasping at the fading light of their former glory, clinging to memories of a time when they were worshipped as the embodiments of their infernal master.

He used to delicately paint his face for each meeting, a ritual of devotion to himself and his roll as Papa. But now, as he stares at his bare face, he feels a bitter resentment towards the being he once revered. The paint feels like a mask of lies, concealing the growing doubts and anger festering within him. Lucifer's promises of power and glory now ring hollow in his ears, leaving only the taste of ash and disappointment. Terzo exhales through his nose and tears himself away from the mirror, satisfied with his appearance but frustrated with the progression of his thoughts. He had grown more disillusioned by the day with the cause he so passionately promoted, the being he worshipped. Lucifer, once his guiding light, now seemed like a cruel puppeteer, manipulating him for some cosmic joke.

Omega did not like these thoughts. In fact, Terzo has begun avoiding him and instead has been seeking the company of his brothers. Perhaps the one silver lining in all of this is that he is closer than he ever has been with his true family, minus daddy dearest, of course. They had grown up together, with Primo practically raising him and Secondo after they had come to the ministry. Back then he was a true zealot - a satanic lunatic whose fervor for the dark arts knew no bounds. It was from him that Terzo learned the intricacies of their infernal faith, absorbing every ritual and incantation with wide-eyed fascination. Yet, somehow, both Terzo and Secondo emerged less fanatical than their older brother.

But still competitors, nonetheless. Secondo and Terzo had been born to different mothers three months apart so it came naturally. The more time spent together now, the more they realize how similar they can be and deep down, Terzo wishes they had not been so combative. It was encouraged, though, fed and grown by the higher ups in the ministry and their father. Maybe they feared they would be too powerful if they were close.

Now all they care about is Uno.

"Fuck!" Terzo exclaims again, his voice tinged with frustration as he runs a hand tiredly over his face. The weight of his thoughts bears down on him, but he knows he can't afford to dwell any longer. With a deep sigh, he forces himself into action, slipping his feet into his shoes - the familiar spats clicking as he gets them on. Just as he reaches for the door handle, a sharp knock echoes through the room. Terzo pauses, his hand hovering in mid-air. Irritation flashes across his face.

"Enter," he calls out, his voice tinged with impatience.

The door creaks open, revealing a young Sibling of Sin. Their face is pale, eyes wide with fear and urgency. Terzo's irritation gives way to curiosity as he takes in their disheveled appearance.

"What is it?" he asks, his tone softening slightly.

The Sibling swallows hard before speaking, their voice trembling. "Papa, I... I have news. It's about Omega."

Terzo's eyebrows furrow. "Omega? What about him?" He nonchalantly goes back to adjusting his outfit, wondering if this is another plot from the ghoul to try and make him listen to “reason”. He certainly has stooped rather low, almost as low as Terzo.

The Sibling takes a deep breath, as if steeling themselves for what they're about to say. "He's been banished, Papa. Omega has been cast out of the Ministry."

The words hit Terzo like a physical blow. He stumbles back a step, his mind reeling. "Banished?" he repeats, his voice barely above a whisper. "But... how? Why?" Pain is etched across his face.

The Sibling shakes their head, clearly as confused and shaken as Terzo. "I don't know the details, Papa. It happened so suddenly. They're saying it came from the highest levels of the Ministry."

Terzo's mind races, his emotions threatening to overwhelm him. Shock, confusion, and a sudden, unexpected pang of loss all vie for dominance. Despite their recent disagreements, Omega had been a constant in his life for so long. The thought of him being gone, cast out... it's almost inconceivable.

Terzo's composure shatters as the weight of the news crashes over him. His eyes flash with unbridled fury, causing the Sibling to take an involuntary step back. "Get out!" he roars, his voice reverberating off the walls. "Leave me! Now!" The Sibling, wide-eyed with fear, scrambles to obey, nearly tripping over their own feet in their haste to escape. Terzo slams the door with such force that the entire room seems to shake, the sound echoing through the corridors like a thunderclap.

As soon as the barrier between him and the outside world is secure, everything crumbles. A primal roar of anguish and frustration tears from his throat, echoing off the walls of his private chambers. In a whirlwind of unbridled emotion, he lashes out at his surroundings. His fist connects with the ornate mirror adorning his vanity, the impact sending a spider web of cracks across its surface before it shatters completely. Shards of glass rain down, glittering in the dim light like fallen stars.

But Terzo's rage demands more destruction. He overturns his meticulously organized desk, unleashing an avalanche of papers, pens, and trinkets onto the floor. Books, once neatly arranged on shelves, are torn free and flung across the room, their pages fluttering like disoriented birds. His wardrobe—a carefully curated collection of robes and suits that once symbolized his power and prestige—falls victim to his fury next. Garments are ripped from hangers and strewn about haphazardly, silk and velvet mingling with the debris below. Spotting one of his Papal robes, an early prototype, he seizes it and tears, splitting seams and fabric into pieces with savage force.

He could kill them. End the reign of his father and Sister Imperator with a knife to their throats, a hammer to their heads. He’s capable and he’s angry.

But that’s not who Terzo is.

His appetite for destruction is as swift as it is thorough. When the storm of his anger finally subsides, Terzo finds himself standing amidst the wreckage of his once-immaculate quarters. His chest heaves with each ragged breath, his knuckles having bloodied his gloves from his outburst. The room, previously a testament to his refined tastes and exalted position, now lies in utter ruin around him. He closes his eyes, drawing in a deep, shuddering breath as the full weight of what has transpired begins to settle upon him.

The dust settles around him, both literally and figuratively, as his mind wanders to Omega. Their relationship, once the core of his existence within the Ministry, had deteriorated over the past several months, transforming into a strained and tenuous connection. The rift between them had widened, growing into a seemingly unbridgeable gap that threatened to swallow everything they shared whole. Omega, ever faithful of their infernal master, had persistently begged Terzo to embrace what he perceived as a well-deserved retirement—a supposed reward bestowed upon them by Lucifer himself for their years of unwavering service and dedication.

"Papa, you've more than earned this rest," Omega would implore, his eyes blazing with sheer intensity behind his cool mask that Terzo found increasingly difficult to look at. "Our Dark Lord Lucifer, in his infinite wisdom, has granted you this period of rest and reflection. Why do you persist in resisting? Can you not see the honor in this gift he has bestowed upon you?"

But for Terzo, the notion of settling into a life of idle luxury felt suffocating—a gilded cage that threatened to strip away everything he had fought so hard to achieve. The very thought of turning his back on the empire he had painstakingly built, nurtured, and expanded over the years felt like a betrayal of who he is and what defines him. As time wore on, his arguments with Omega grew increasingly heated and frequent, his frustration mounting with each tense exchange, threatening to boil over into hostility.

"You call this rest, Omega?" Terzo would retort, his voice rising with each impassioned word, hands gesticulating wildly to emphasize his point. "This isn't rest—it's nothing short of exile, a banishment from everything I've ever known and loved! How can you, of all people, expect me to sit idly by, content to watch as everything I've dedicated my life to—my very existence—crumbles around me like dust?" The air between them would crackle with tension during these confrontations, an electric charge that made it increasingly difficult for them to occupy the same space without the risk of conflict erupting at any moment.

Now, with the shocking news of Omega's sudden and unexpected banishment reverberating through the chambers of his mind, Terzo finds himself consumed with emotion. Relief, guilt, anger, and a profound sense of loss intertwine in a dizzying dance, each vying for dominance in the turbulent landscape of his mind. Despite their recent differences and the ever-widening divide between them, Omega had been a constant, unwavering presence in Terzo's life for longer than he cared to remember—a touchstone of familiarity. His abrupt absence leaves a gaping void in the fabric of Terzo's existence, a wound so deep and raw that he isn't certain he possesses the means to heal it.

Even with the turmoil raging inside him, Terzo finds himself drawn to the familiar comfort of his brothers' company. With a heavy sigh, he straightens his posture and smooths down his attire, a reflexive gesture from years of public appearances. He may be struggling, but he'll be damned if he lets it show—at least not to them. They have all had their hardships. If anyone knows and understands what he is feeling right now, it is his brothers. Terzo’s steps are heavy, using his feet to clear a path forward amidst everything now on the floor. He reaches the door, hesitating for just a moment. There’s a weight pressing down on him that threatens to crush him, to break him down until there’s nothing left.

He won’t let it.

Terzo opens the door and leaves his room. As he makes his way towards the small room where their Uno nights are held, his mind goes blank, going numb to the intense feelings that are simmering beneath the surface. He trudges down the dimly lit corridor, his footsteps echoing off the ancient stone walls, focusing on that sound to keep him grounded. As he rounds a corner, lost in the maelstrom of his thoughts, a familiar voice catches his attention, causing him to halt abruptly.

Turning, he sees Cardinal Copia emerging from his office, a stack of papers tucked under one arm and an Uno card inexplicably held between two fingers of his free hand. The Cardinal's painted face breaks into a warm smile as he spots Terzo, oblivious to the storm brewing within the former Papa.

"Ah, Papa, on your way to Uno Night, yes?” The cheerful greeting hangs in the air, a stark contrast to the darkness swirling within Terzo.

Terzo's entire body tenses, his jaw clenching so tightly he can hear his teeth grind. The sight of him, so content and oblivious to the turmoil raging through the Ministry, ignites a fire in Terzo's chest—one that he had hoped was extinguished following his outburst in his room. His eyes narrow as he regards Copia with barely contained irritation. "Uno Night," he repeats, his voice low and controlled, though tension radiates from every syllable. "Mmm… yes." He takes a step closer to Copia, his presence suddenly looming and intimidating.

Copia's smile falters slightly, but he presses on, still oblivious and sweet. "It's become quite the tradition with your brothers, hasn't it?" He hesitates for a moment, then reaches into his sleeve and pulls out a blue reverse card. He holds it out to Terzo, a tentative peace offering. "Here, Papa. I always keep this one for luck. Perhaps... perhaps you'd like to have it for tonight's game?"

Terzo's gaze sharpens dangerously as he struggles to maintain his composure. His arms are crossed tightly over his chest, fingers digging into his biceps. The sight of that blue card in Copia's hand—a symbol of the carefree life he now leads—causes the fire to spread inside him, consuming him yet again. Terzo’s voice, when he finally speaks, is low and menacing, barely above a whisper.

"Tradition?" His voice is guttural and rough. "You dare speak to me of tradition when everything is crumbling around us? When the very foundations of our world are ripped away from us?" His words are full of anguish and rage, each one striking Copia like a physical blow.

The Cardinal stumbles back, his expression morphing from confusion to outright fear. "P-Papa, I... I don't understand-" he stammers, his voice trembling.

"Of course you don't understand!" Terzo cuts him off, his composure shattering completely. "You're nothing but a pawn, a naive fool dancing to their twisted tune!" He gestures wildly, his movements sharp and erratic. "Do you have any idea what's happening beyond your little bubble of blissful ignorance? Omega is gone! Banished! Cast out like yesterday's trash! And here you stand, grinning like a fool, oblivious to the chaos swirling around you!"

Copia's eyes widen in shock, the full weight of Terzo's words finally sinking in. "Omega? But how- Why-" he begins, but Terzo is far from finished.

Terzo snatches the blue Uno card from Copia's hand, gripping it so hard it begins to crumble in his grip. "And this?" he spits, brandishing it like damning evidence. "You think this changes anything? You think a game can fix what's broken? This card, this... this mockery of what we once were!" His voice rises to a near-scream. "Do you have any idea what this represents? It's not just a game, you fool! It's everything we've lost, everything that's been taken from us!"

With a primal yell that seems to shake the very stones of the corridor, Terzo tears the card to shreds. The pieces flutter between them like confetti, a mockery of celebration in this moment of utter despair. Copia flinches, raising his hands as if to shield himself from the physical manifestation of Terzo's rage.

"P-Papa, please," Copia stammers, his voice barely above a whisper, a plea for understanding, for mercy. "I didn't mean to-"

But Terzo is beyond reason, beyond mercy. His voice drops to a low, dangerous hiss, each word dripping with venom. "Get out of my sight," he commands, his tone brooking no argument. "You don't belong here. You never will. You're nothing but a pale imitation, a cheap replacement for something you could never hope to understand. And take your pathetic games with you!"

As Copia retreats, practically running down the corridor, Terzo stands amidst the scattered remains of the card. His chest heaves with each ragged breath, anger and grief warring within him. In the sudden silence, the weight of his actions begins to settle upon him. He knows, in some distant corner of his mind, that he's overreacted, that Copia isn't truly to blame for the chaos engulfing their world. But in this moment, all he can feel is the crushing weight of loss - of his position, of Omega, of everything he once held dear. And that damned Uno card, now in pieces at his feet, seems to mock him with its cheerful blue color, a stark contrast to the darkness consuming his soul.

If only he could reverse being removed from the Papacy.

With a deep, shuddering breath, Terzo straightens his posture and adjusts his shirt in an attempt to calm himself. He struggles to push down the turmoil within, determined not to let his brothers see his inner struggle. As he approaches the card room, he steels himself, forcing his face into a mask of nonchalance.

Opening the door, he finds his brothers already seated. An almost startling wave of relief washes over him. He allows a scoff to escape his lips at the sight of Primo, face fully painted and wearing a Burberry scarf. Before he can comment, Secondo interjects.

"Already gave him trouble for it, stronzino. If you'd been on time, you could've joined." There's a glint of mischief in Secondo's eyes.

Terzo rolls his eyes, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth despite his best efforts to maintain his aloof facade. He saunters over to the table, pulling up a chair with dramatic flair. "Well, shall we begin? I'm feeling particularly lucky tonight." He shoots a pointed look at Secondo, silently accepting the challenge in his brother's gaze.

He settles into his seat and the feeling of relief continues to spread through him. Here, surrounded by his brothers and the familiar rhythm of an extremely low-stakes card game, he can momentarily push aside his anger and frustration. In this room, he's not the fallen Papa or a disappointment to the Ministry - he's simply Terzo, the youngest of the Emeritus brothers, ready to lose himself in the game and forget, if only for a while, how far he has fallen.

On this particular evening, Sister Imperator and Papa Nihil would make an unexpected appearance, delivering news that would leave the brothers startled and confused.

They would be unable to continue their card game.

Terzo is deep in his desk chair, his body nearly slipped from it onto the floor. His gaze is locked on the the hell phone which has been ringing nonstop since you left for the night. Your taste is still on his tongue, your scent clinging to his robe. He’s afraid to move to disturb the haze he’s settled into, even though you would be back bright and early for work the morning after next. Fingers fall to his temples, rubbing them with each piercing ring of the phone.

He wouldn’t answer. He doesn’t want to face who is on the other line.

Was it Omega? What could he possibly say? He would only complicate matters—as he already has. The hell phone materialized before you, and you listened to the sounds of the abyss. It drove you into Terzo's arms and bed, but... you didn't deserve to experience such terrors or feel so frightened in his home. Or at least, if anyone was going to frighten you it should be him. His fingers drum along the arms of the chair, a deep grumble vibrating from his chest. The goal is to get you to stay, to devote yourself to him and only him. Yet the fear gnaws at him. What if the terrors you've witnessed push you away? The thought of losing you to the very darkness he once revered sends a chill through him. He wants you by his side, but you have to want to be there. Perhaps, he muses bitterly, this is another of Lucifer's cruel jokes—dangling happiness before him, only to threaten it with the very forces he once embraced.

Maybe the imp who fixed your tire that Terzo had shredded was calling. What was that all about? He didn’t have time to mull that incident over earlier while you were here. Is he manifesting things?

The memory of when he had accidentally shocked you resurfaces, Terzo's frown deepens. He recalls the pain on your face when he zapped your wrist. His gaze drifts to his hands, studying them as if they belong to a stranger. These hands that once commanded crowds, that channeled unholy energies with precision and purpose, now feel like unpredictable weapons. He clenches his fists, feeling the familiar tingle of power just beneath his skin. What if he hurts you again?

Another memory flits to the forefront of his mind — when he screamed at you over his relics being displayed causing a lightbulb to shatter. He remembers the fear in your eyes as it happened. It wasn't Lucifer's doing—it was his own power, his own lack of control. The realization hits him like a punch to the gut. Perhaps the true threat to your happiness, to any chance of a future together, isn't some external force or cosmic joke. It's him.

The silver lining is that you had seemed to be… into it. But what if next time, it's worse than a small shock or a broken bulb?

The thought sends a wave of despair crashing over him. Is he doomed to be alone, forever isolated by the very gifts that once made him special? The irony isn't lost on him—he who once reveled in his dark powers, who used them to seduce and enthrall, now fears them as the very thing that might drive you away. Terzo slumps further in his chair. The illusion of his perfection continues to fade but he’s stubborn. Unwilling to change his ways even though he knows he can be cruel and difficult.

He originally expected you to just deal with it.

Terzo rises with a frustrated growl, letting the hell phone continue its incessant ringing. He stalks over to his liquor cabinet, hands trembling slightly as he pours himself a generous measure of whiskey. What have you done to him? How dare you make him want to be better? He decides he must, at the very least, attempt to protect you from whatever hell seemingly has in store for you. This includes tempering his emotions, an obvious factor of his otherworldly abilities. Seriously, how dare you?

Taking a long swig, he savors the burn as it slides down his throat. It's a familiar comfort, one that does little to reduce the budding anxiety he feels. With a heavy sigh, he turns his back on the still-ringing phone and retreats to his bedroom, drink in hand. The door closes behind him, muffling the sound of the hell phone but he can still feel its presence. Terzo takes another sip, hoping to drink himself into unconsciousness.

Only two sleeps until he sees you again.

[sashi-ya]

[𝐀𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐭! 𝐊𝐮𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐚𝐤𝐢 𝐈𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐨 ✦ +𝟏𝟖 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬]

✦ requested by Anonymous for the free requests ➜ Some NS/F W HCs for Ichigo from Bleach please? He was my first anime crush ever :D so it’d make me happy to see something for him. ➜ sure love!! enjoy your strawberry boy! ✦ tw: adult! Ichigo. mentions of kinks> oral, shower sex. impregnation.. minors dni. ✦ masterlist

✦ A man that never gives up is a man who would do anything to please you. The strawberry hottie will always put you first; he isn’t coming if you haven’t come twice before.

✦ A soft! dom for sure. But a dom at last. Who has ever told this man how to act, after all?

✦ He uses his spiritual pressure during sex. No need of choking when his soul can make you run out of oxygen faster than any hand around your neck. Because he won’t enjoy hurting your beautiful neck, but the way your eyes go blank when you feel his power crushing you is enough to make him extremely aroused.

✦ His hands turn veiny when his is fucking you. He does that of gripping the sheets while his hips describe a serpentine motion, in and out of you. He is not rough -at first-, but keeps the perfect rhythm to surprise you all of a sudden with a deep, hard ram. It makes you scream, thing that makes him bite his lower lip and smirk so sexily.

✦ Ichigo works from home – and when he is off duty as a substitute Shinigami- whenever you are back after a stressful day at work, you will have your dinner ready, a warm bath as well and him willing to give you love in the shower. He will clean you, and he will also push you against the watery tiles to make you scream his name.

✦ Oral lover. TOTAL oral lover. He is not very vocal, and the way he has a serious stare when he is ready to devour you makes you shiver. With the same passion he fights against enemies, he leaves your legs trembling. He knows, for sure, and oh so very well, where the clit is. (He learned from Ishida back when they were in school. Yes, Ishida knows)

✦ They say that like father, like son and I think Ichigo has an impregnation kink. So, get ready to be full and drippy.

✦ He enjoys watching you get dressed. He praises your body so much that every morning as you get ready for work he will smile, in bed, watching you get ready with sloppy loving eyes -and a boner he clearly can’t hide-.

✦ Kiss his neck unexpectedly or pass your arms from behind to his belly while he is focus working and watch the Strawberry blush. Yes, despite being a grown up, he still blushes like that sweet teenager you once met in school.

[shuenkio]

𝐈 𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐳𝐲 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | 🎞️

Paring: Enha X male!reader

Genre: fictional.

Cw: obsession behavior, swearing (likely similar to yandere)

Summary: The richest boy's down bad for you so bad.

இLHS : He would be the mafia's son. Randomly saw you one day during his mission, grabbed his attention and wanted to get to know you more. Day by day, his obsession grows an unhealthy amount eventually until he wanna make you his without having no one to take you away from him. Despite being a male it is even better for him.

"Money, power, fame? I can give you everything even my body, just by being mine"

இPJS : He would be the gangster's son. However he didn't take the same path as his parents, instead he was the best chief in the country. He might look nice on the outside but he's also wild. You were one of the customers in his restaurant who visited regularly eventually he caught a feeling, but not you. He asks his parent worker to spy on you every day. Until.

"I can cook, I can clean but I can also be your husband too, my knife is sharp enough to cut someone if they're trying to steal you away from me! I fucking like you!"

இSJY : He would be the lawyer's son. He likes going out, to bars, girls, and clubs until his eyes lean on you, a poor new worker barista who working at his favorite bar. He immediately loves at first sight but in a naughty way. Not only he's stalking you, but he is already planned about how his life with you.

"Poor didn't suit you, married me you'll get everything you want darling, idc even if you have a dick"

இPSH : He would be the surgeon's son. Despite being his neighbors you often visit his house to give him company as his parents request. He is no longer feeling lonely and being loved by you, growing insanely jealous even when you're with your family more than him, yes. Until one day, he locks the door.

"There's no leaving until you take me as your boyfriend >:("

இKSN : He would be the psychologist's son. He might look lovely, kind, and cute but deep down he can also manipulate you. He has grown fond of you ever since you accidentally kissed his cheeks. He realized he was in love or more than love. Until one day he fools you by saying he was injured at his apartment, you rush to see him but when you step inside, he immediately locks the door and breaks the room access card into pieces.

"Give your BFF a hug, I missed you too much, my sarang(love)"

இYJW : He would be the 5-star Officer's son. The adorable face of him not only makes him look pitiful but also drives you to trust him. Fortunately, his planned work. You trust him too badly until he takes full advantage of you. You open your eyes to realize you're in his room.

"Scream it m/n my father is an officer, I could just use one trick on you, you're over but not unless you kiss me on my lip, now!"

இNSR : He would be the Data scientist's son. He likes a lot of things but he chooses to stick to his hobby for the time being, a photographer. Just a simple kindness from you during the heavy rain, you offered him an umbrella, His world turned pink unexpectedly. Ever since then his love for you grows dangerously until his room is full of your pictures.

"Pictures are not enough, I needed you to be here, my beautiful art"

🗣️ please mind my English! ><

🗣️ Reblog and like is much appreciated ♥

🗣️ CRD TO ALL PICS&DIVIDERS

🥹 SUNGHOON FF LATERALLY BLOW OUT MY PHONE Y'ALL LIKES IT SO MUCH? THANKS YOU !

[lurkingshan]

Cherry Magic Episode 12

MY HEART IS FO FULL. This adaptation has exceeded my wildest expectations to become one of my favorite bls of all time. They really put their backs into it and gave us everything we could want for these characters, and I will always be grateful. This show managed to be a faithful manga adaptation, a loving homage to the jbl, and a fresh take on the story all at once. An amazing feat to pull off and this creative team deserves so much love and kudos.

The way Achi and Karan have grown together over the course of this show has been fantastic to witness. I love how seriously the show took their growth, and that we got to see them put in the work to improve their communication and become a great team. Meeting the parents was a big step for them, especially because they were uncertain how their respective families would react, but I loved that they were so open with each other throughout about how they were feeling. I loved, too, that we got a contrast, with Achi's mom being so warm and loving (but still managing to get a dig in on her son, lmao) and Karan's being more avoidant and passive aggressive and needing a talking to her from her eldest child to get her shit together. I love that the drama created space for things to not go perfectly with the parents, and to show us that people can be moved to acceptance.

We got a bit of a parallel with that message in Jinta and Min's story this week, with Min's fans initially attacking Jinta, but backing off once Min named him as his faen and asked them to respect his relationship. I like the choice to model positive fan behavior, and it felt a bit pointed from this production company. Both with Pai and now with this new group of fans, the show has said consistently that being a fan should be about love and support, not control. That you can admire your idols but you also need to give them privacy. That it's not your place to judge who they love. I just love that message.

Of course, I have to talk about the mutual proposal and the wedding. I am pretty sure Karan has been carrying that ring around in his pocket since the second day of dating, but it was such a welcome surprise to see that Achi had already made his own plans, too. The show really succeeded in taking this relationship from something that felt a little one-sided to a very mutual partnership I can believe in. I teared up when right along with Karan when Achi followed Karan's proposal with his own, and you could see how much it meant to him to know that Achi is really truly on the same page. Getting to see their wedding and the love surrounding them on their special day was the cherry (lol) on top of this fantastic love story. I also absolutely loved the wink to the jbl elevator non-kiss in the way they framed their final married couple kiss and then cut away from the bed.

Continuing the love fest, I also love the changes this version made to the side couple's story. Min getting to fulfill his dream, Jinta being an excellent supportive partner, their agreement that they will marry someday when they're ready--it was all just lovely. The nod to the jbl pen proposal was cute, and I love that they took it a step further by drawing rings on each other. The flip in the sexual relationships was also quite welcome, with that triumphant arc reserved for the main couple in this version. Jinta ended the show with his magical powers still intact, but it didn't seem like that would be the case for long.

As for Rock and Pai, I am happy with how the show handled their story. To the end, Pai stayed true to herself, and Rock came to know her better and understand what kind of romantic relationship he could reasonably expect from her. She will always have her head more on her ships than on her own love life, and he seems okay with it. I think you can still take an aroace read on this Pai if you choose, and I appreciate that the show made space for that. I like, too, that Pai helped Rock reconnect with his own passion for dancing and find a fun outlet for his creativity. They were another reinforcement of this show's overarching themes about the importance of kindness, support, and clear communication in relationships.

This show left me with such a warm feeling. I'm so glad they stuck the landing, that episode 8 never happened, and that we can rewatch and remember this Cherry Magic so fondly. I never expected Thailand to go so above and beyond the original live action drama, but they have undoubtedly delivered my favorite version of this story.

[asbeel]

My take on Michael and Adam's relationship

Sure destiel may be the main tragedy of supernatural

BUT DONT YOU EVER FORGET THE TRUE TRAGEDY OF MIDAM

Imagine spending over a thousand years with the same person in one confined place. I don't think it has to be said how long of a time that is. Adam and Michael developed mutual respect as equals and also fell in love (confirmed by our lovely #1 midam shipper, Jake Abel, because fuck CW), they are quite literally each other's world.

After escaping the cage, the two of them probably found a peaceful life away from otherworldly drama and lived in domestic bliss. Again, they are together all times of the day for a thousand years!

Adam changed Michael like how Dean changed Castiel. Michael learned the true nature of humanity, the ups and downs, via the eyes of Adam. In season 5, Michael was more than willing to kill off half the human population because that's what he believed to be right and to be God's will. After his time in the cage with Adam, he doesn't kill what is arguably an unimportant amount of people after they witness him smiting Eve. This is definitely not God's will, considering Chuck HAS killed off the same amount of people for less.

On top of that, Adam is able to convince Michael that his father, God, isn't as great as he originally believed. This shows how much Michael had grown in the cage as a person, willing to hear out a human regarding his father's righteousness. It also demonstrates just how much respect Michael has for Adam, because there is no other human in the world who could diss God in front of his most loyal follower. One could argue that the only reason why Michael agreed to help the Winchesters is because of Adam, for Adam.

So when Adam suddenly gets killed by Chuck, Michael is alone for the first time in over a thousand years. Adam, an essential part of Michael's life, gave Michael a new meaning to life, away from heaven. Loneliness like could drive anyone mad, and it's jarring to lose someone like that so suddenly.

As much as I think the canon reason for why Michael betrayed the Winchesters is utter fucking bullshit and definitely a cheap escape the writers didn't think much about, I wouldn't lie if I said it kinda fits. Adam may have changed Michael, but development isn't a straight path uphill, and grief makes people do a lot of things. Adam's death leads Michael to become lost without purpose so much so that he returns to God for a new purpose, to be "God's favourite son" again. Michael is desperate to never be alone again, and God is all powerful, so it isn't far-fetched to assume he had lost hope to get Adam back and resorted to the next best thing, Chuck (if you can't beat em, join em ahh)

Ngl sometimes I think about midam and become sad

Anyways I wanna see some discussions

[ledgends-of-the-stars]

While I’m at it! Here’s some more Headcanons!

Classic Meta is younger Meta while my Meta is the current Meta of my AU! He stopped giving a FUCC and embraces his flamboyant traits! He knows who he is and he doesn’t need anyone to tell him so! He still has his need for Control and unhealthy addiction to sweets, though he’s much more prone to think and strategize more, if not wait long periods for the perfect opportunity to strike! Very cunning and witty! Knows he’s powerful! Got followers all over Popstar, a huge Military under his influence, he’s living the dream~! Gotta protect this Peaceful Life one way or another and he’ll do it his way without antagonizing his powerful grown up adoptive son!

He’s also a MetaDad now with a young Daughter named Maria, all while married to a beautiful Golden Angel named Marionette!

I wanted to compare them! So I drew them both with their iconic masks and without! ^^

[ctheathy]

WRITE ME REDSON X MALE READER 😭 DID I DO IT GOOD NOW!????

Red Son General Headcanons

Redson x Reader

General+Fluff Headcanons

Author’s note: Nuh uh you did absolutely TERRIBLE😡. I should just solve the problem and ban you from my account right now. You even went against my rules dipshi- [The requester and I are friends, don't cancel me]

Possibly OOC, but I tried. I had to depend on the wikipedia for information cause I've never even watched Monkie Kid to begin with. This was really just an exception for a friend of mine.

Redson/Reader [Romantic Tendencies]

[Gender-neutral Darling|Female Darling|Male Darling]

Potential ⚠️TWs⚠️ :

!Male Reader! • Paranoia

The level of priority towards reputation are often known to depend on a rank one was born into or the image they created for themselves over the course of time, which in this case is undoubtedly high... Redson has been shown to hold a lot of family pride and takes any chance to prove his authority over his subclasses. It's safe to say the the demon bull is likely going to have some difficulty swallowing his ego to allow emotional connections to grow and much less legitimise a romantic relationship with someone from the group he has grown acquainted with.

He can also be known to be rather petty and too prideful to accept his flaws. So if happens to be something that irritates you, you're definitely going to end up having one or more squabbles with the son of the Demon Bull King. Especially when it comes to Redson having a fierce temper and such, resulting in him trying to lecture you and get a completely insignificant point across. But I also believe you'd be more capable of keeping him in line instead of if you were to just go along with his behaviour. But it can also cause in a feast of awkwardness, as there have been several occasions where you embarrassingly have to hold Redson back from lashing out at a laughing MK and Mei for calling your arguments a lover's quarrel.

Though even with his high-and-mighty and hostile nature, it is important to remember that as long as a bond is formed, he won't ever actually harm or even remotely think of hurting you. Like, at all. He can be a bit bigmouthed at times, but many of his words should regularly be taken with a grain of salt. He is quick to snap at anyone from time to time, but I believe your presence would definitely keep him tame to a certain degree, as your mere existence just happens to soothe him. So on the bright side, you might be able to kick him off his high horse for the first time during his five hundred years of life.

I can picture Redson having grown up under a domain of regulation where females are generally and more often treated extra delicately due to being more ‘fragile’, so you can expect him to behave firmer, a bit more rough yet open to his real self a lot faster than if you were a female. He'll see you less as a ‘target’ for a lack of better term, and more as a comrade. Plus, if you were to give him the approval he lacked from his parents, it wouldn't feel uncomfortable as long as you have had the opportunity to create a connection. Though primarily, I cannot view intimate scenarios as anything other than plain awkward for a little while. You're gonna have to be the one initiating the hugs with him and give implications to get more touchy feely. Though when surrounded by eyewitnesses, he'll often still end up shooing you away ...you'll perhaps, just maybe absolutely get to hold his hand at most.

I mean, when's the last time you've seen somebody behaving sappy and all goo-goo with the literal son of the Demon Bull King out in the open? He just cannot allow it! Not only for the sake of his dignity, but also to keep up his image so you'll continue seeing him as an almighty demon who has an unnerving amount of political power over any lower rank. As far deep down, hidden within... he wants to appear and be so much more special to you than he'd be willing to admit.

If you were to lack in durability, fighting abilities or overall weapon skills, I can see Redson going out of his way to strictly teach you his ways of strength individually. Not necessarily in a sense to get you to his level, but in order to give you the capability to protect yourself. He would always be there to protect you with ferocious security at a moment's notice [and scold you afterwards for getting yourself in a dangerous situation], but he cannot help but doubt his abilities to ensure your safety at times. Along with fearing for the worst that one time he might not be there to save you. And this singular thought might just be what it takes to make him evaluate how he actually feels about you.

[wh0reforcoriolanussnow]

Can I request something with Daemon and Alicent sister.

She always thought she was second choice to Rhaenyra and tries not to show her sadness but her sons that they have together can see it and ask there father why is there mother second choice. And he finally relises that she feels like second choice.

Happy ending though.

Second Choice || D. Targaryen x Hightower!oc

GIF by @buffysummers DIVIDERS by @straywords

a/n: I had so much fun writing this, thank you for the request! I added my own little twists to this but it’s still along the lines of your request so I hope you don’t mind! Also this is oc btw, and enjoy!! also this is a long one! ALSO MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE TO THOSE WHO CELEBRATE IT <33 i live in aus so xmas is today!

warning: big age gap, oc starts of as 15 in the beginning and is 18 in the end, otto gaslighting and being manipulative

“You will marry the Prince” Otto had his back turned to his daughter. Leyla’s eyes widen at her father’s words, she looks to her older sister Alicent who wears a sad expression on her face.

“But father- he’s nearly three times my age! Why must I marry him” She pleads, she had no feelings for Daemon. And the terrible stories she had heard about him made her avoid him even more.

“Because you are my youngest child, I want you to live in royalty. The Prince has his eyes on the Princess but the King would never allow it-“ Leyla scoffed. “So you force me to marry him so that the King would thank you?! Do you love the power you have so much? So much that you would marry me off to that vile man!” She yelled, infuriated at her father.

“Do you have no respect child!” Both Leyla and Alicent flinch at the sound of everything on the table being pushed to the ground. “I am doing you good by marrying you to Daemon. You will have a high spot in court and you will, without a doubt live in luxury. Your children would be of royalty” Otto steps closer to Leyla, taking her face in his hands in a rough manner.

“You will give him children. You will marry him. Do you hear me” He yells the last bit as he shakes her, her jaw clenching as tears form in her eyes. Leyla pushes herself off of him as he leaves the room.

“I am so sorry sister” Alicent quietly says before giving her a sympathetic look and leaving the room. Leyla stood there for god knows how long, her mind clouded with thoughts.

She was only 15, how could her father marry her off to a man nearly three times her age and bear his children? Leyla knew there was nothing that could be done to get out of this so instead, she held a strong front.

~

She laid motionless on the bed. Her whole body was aching, particularly her womanhood. “You did well, sweet child” Daemon kissed her cheek before he laid beside her. “Did you enjoy the show my lords?” He called out in a humorous manner as they stayed silent, Alicent only coughing before they all left the room.

Embarrassed, Leyla turned on her side, her naked back facing Daemon. She felt so many things at that moment. She did not expect to lose her maidenhood so early and to a man that she did not love.

Daemon turns his head to only see the back of his wife’s head. He too did not love Leyla, his eyes were on someone else. He did not know her very well, only that she was the youngest offspring of that cunt, Otto.

But nonetheless, he refused to treat Leyla in an ill manner. Throughout their very short courtship, he had grown to be protective of her, he didn’t understand why, maybe because it was the fact that he was nearly three times older than the girl.

He nearly choked the old fool who offered his youngest daughter to him. He couldn’t help but scoff and roll his eyes when he heard the offer and her age. Daemon knew that they were doing this so that he couldn’t marry Rhaenyra. Pathetic really, he thought.

~

Leyla smiled at Daemon as he places his hand atop her swollen belly, caressing it slowly before taking her hand off of his to place a gentle kiss on it. “How is the pregnancy going Lady Leyla?” Viserys looks up from his plate sending her a smile.

She grins back as Daemon and her look at each other before she replies, “Very well your Grace, though she’s been quite active recently, kicking and moving around constantly” Leyla says as they all chuckle. “A true Targaryen she is” Daemon adds with a huge grin.

“She?” Rhaenyra asks as she looks at the two across from her. Leyla awkwardly lookd at her, a tight smile on her lips. It has always been quite awkward around Rhaenyra. Ever since Leyla and Daemon married, there had been an awkward atmosphere around.

“Yes Princess, Daemon is adamant that the babe is a girl” Leyla squeezes his hand as she nods with a smile before looking at Daemon, something only Leyla notices. She watches Daemon from the corner of her eye as he looks at Rhaenyra, a subtle smile on his lips before he looks back down to his plate.

“Princess,” Ser Criston calls out from the door, without uttering another word, Viserys gives Rhaenyra a smile and nods his head as she stands up. “Please excuse me” She says before leaving the room.

“I do hope that you are able to attend the wedding then, hopefully you won’t be in labour” Leyla’s sister looks up to her as she nods, “What wedding?” Daemon questioned, raising an eyebrow at his sister-in-law.

“Rhaenyra’s wedding to Prince Laenor, husband” Leyla placed her hand on top of his to which he shoves it off, “Rhaenyra is marrying and no one has told me?” Daemon says frustratedly, banging the table making everyone jump.

“Well I was going tell you-“ Leyla was interrupted once Daemon sat up from his seat making it fall to the ground. “Daemon-“ Leyla tried but she was turned down, “Don’t.” He glares at her as she looks at him in bewilderment.

Her eyes followed his figure leave the room, the door closing with a loud slam. Leyla sighed in defeat, massaging her forehead with her fingers. “Excuse me your Grace” She apologetically smiles and leaves the room to find her husband.

“Daemon?” Leyla slowly opened the door to their shared bedchambers. She stepped in seeing Daemon sat on a chair infront of the firepit. Her feet move to the chair, her hands placing themselves on his tense shoulders.

“Were you going to tell me or did I have to wait until the day she marries him” He mutters, “I was going to tell you okay? I-It just slipped out of my head” She sighed,!moving infront of him.

Leyla could see his feature’s immediately softening when he looks at her. He looks at her swollen belly before grinning up at her, Daemon takes her hands in his moving her closer to him as he gently leans his head on her belly.

She liked to think that he was over Rhaenyra—even the slightest bit over her—ever since they found out they were expecting a child. And during those months together, Leyla was undeniably falling for Daemon.

“Why do you worry about it so much, my love?” Leyla says in a hushed voice, careful to not anger him, Daemon only ignores her, placing kisses on her covered belly. Leyla sighs in defeat, running her hands through his hair.

~

3 years later….

“Mumma!” Alyssa, Leyla’s eldest child, ran up to her on the bed, followed by Baelon, the second oldest. She jumped onto the bed making Leyla giggle. “Careful Alyssa” Daemon warned as he lifts Baelon onto the bed.

He places a kiss on Leyla’s forehead before nestling himself beside her who was holding their third child in her arms. “Meet your baby brother” Leyla smiled at her children as they move closer to look at him.

“You are amazing, sweetling” He whispered against her hair, she tiredly smiles before leaning her head on his chest. A knock at the door makes the couple pause.

The handmaiden rushes to the door, the handmaiden curtsying before letting out a quiet “Princess”. Leyla slightly leaned up, wondering why Rhaenyra was here.

“Who is it?” Daemon calls out, his gaze on the child in Leyla’s arms. “Princess Rhaenyra, my Prince” She replied. Leyla felt his body slightly shift. She watched as he gazes at her intensely.

“Uncle, Lady Leyla” Rhaenyra smiled as she steps closer to the family. “Princess” Leyla politely bows her head as Daemon’s eyes still fixate themselves on her. “To what do we owe the pleasure?” Leyla speaks up.

“I just arrived this morning for a visit when I heard you gave birth to your third child, I wanted to know how you were” She smiles as she looks to Daemon, then to her, then to the child in Leyla’s arms.

“That is very kind of you, Princess, isn’t it Husband?” Leyla turns her head to look at Daemon. He still had his eyes on Rhaenyra with a subtle smile. And that was when it hit her, the reality that Daemon still had feelings for Rhaenyra.

~

1 year later…

Ever since Rhaenyra moved back to the castle, the same tension that Leyla felt nearly 4 years ago was back, more than ever. She couldn’t help but notice the subtle looks they would exchange whenever they were in the same room.

Or how Daemon would never be paying attention to her or their children whenever Rhaenyra was close by. At one point, their youngest son who had just started to walk, Aegon, was one step away from falling down the stairs. That night, the two had a huge argument, the room was left in pieces.

Leyla watched with a sadden gaze as her husband dances with his niece. It was her sister’s name day. She had Aegon on her lap, bouncing him to usher his cries. Alyssa and Baelon to her left playing with their wet nurse.

Daemon was still so sweet and caring to Leyla but she could feel it deep inside. The feeling that she would always be second choice to Rhaenyra. She tried accepting it, she really did, she knew that he married her when he was inlove with another.

But in those 4 years, she liked to think he loved her. She gave him everything, her childhood, her maidenhood, children, her nonstop love and care, but sometimes she felt as if it was going all to waste.

Leyla couldn’t bare watching the two dance knowing that there was—or still is—something between the two. Leyla raised her hand to beckon the wet nurse. “Take Aegon to the children so that they may play together” She smiles to the women. “Of course, my lady”

She stood from her seat walking towards her sister. “I apologise sister, I feel as if I should retire to my bedchambers” She says to her, kissing her cheek as Alicent smiles. “Of course, rest up well” She holds her hand as Leyla nods walking to her three children.

“I am going to go rest my darlings, Alyssa, take care of your brothers for me” Leyla kisses their foreheads as she stands and leaves the bustling room. God was Leyla tired. Mentally and physically drained.

She had no rest. The last 4 years was nothing but Leyla going through another pregnancy. She was only 18 and she already has three children—4 maybe because she hadn’t bled in a month—but nonetheless she loved her children very much.

When she arrived at her bedchambers, she immediately laid herself on the bed. A loud sigh leaves her lips, before she could even close her eyes to get some much needed sleep, a knock erupts from the door.

Groaning, she takes heavy footsteps to the door. Opening it, she was surprised to see her father. “Father-“ “What are you doing here? You should be celebrating with your sister” He utters as he invites himself in.

“I’m not feeling well, I already told his Grace and Alicent” She mutters as Otto turns to her, “Are you expecting again? The handmaidens have told me you haven’t bled this month-“ “Why are you associating yourself with my handmaidens father? Are you that interested in my life” Leyla scoffs.

Otto slightly smiles, “Just making sure my daughter is being a dutiful wife and producing the Prince heirs, that is all” He shrugs. This made Leyla absolutely fume.

Grabbing the closest vase, she throws it on the ground, shards flying everywhere. “Is that what you think I am? A pawn?Someone who can just pop out babies for the Prince!” She yells, “I have wasted my childhood on the birthing bed! Because of you and your stupid arrangement for me to marry Daemon, he doesn’t even love me!”

“Why would you do that to me! I was only 15…” Leyla sobbed, her legs giving up on her as she released all her pent up emotions. What surprised her was the feeling of her father’s arms wrapped around her shaking body. “Silly girl, love doesn’t exist in arranged marriages”

“This was what you were made to do, my dear. Produce heirs, be married off to a noble man, in this case, married to a Prince and producing royalty. You are giving our family, our house, great honour” He says as Leyla listens.

“Get out” She quietly says, “I’m sorry?” Otto says confused, “I said, get out!” Leyla raises her voice as she shrugs his hands off of her. “Get out now!” She screams, her face red from all the crying.

Otto chuckles, “You should be thanking me, my child. I have built this for you, this extravagant life you have and for your children-“ “Get the fuck out of my chambers father” She loudly says, fed up with all his words that tried to give her some sort of comfort and reassurance that this what all she was made to do, produce heirs.

~

“Darlings, where’s mother?” Daemon had finished dancing with his niece and searched for his wife, but she was nowhere to be found. He sat down on the ground with his three children, something that made the nearby lady and lords gossip.

“Alyssa?” Daemon questions, taking baby Aegon from the arms of the wet nurse. “Mumma is not feeling well, she’s resting in her room” The little girl responds, her attention still on the toys.

Daemon looks towards their wet nurse who briefly nods in confirmation. He was worried for Leyla, she had been feeling more tired and was quiet in the past few weeks.

He knocks on the door, “Darling, it’s me” He waits for a few minutes before he could hear Leyla’s footsteps approaching. “Are you-“ He cut off mid sentence when he saw her face. Red eyes and wet cheeks.

Daemon furrows his eyebrows before stepping in and wrapping his arms around her shoulders as she sniffles. “What happened? Are you okay?” He says, concern in his voice as he cups his lover’s cheeks in his big hands.

Leyla says nothing, keeping her gaze on the floor before taking his hands off of her face. This made Daemon even more confused, she would usually cave in and tell him what bothered her. ���Leyla?” He quietly calls out as she makes her way to the balcony.

Daemon follows her outside where they both lean against the railing in silence, overlooking King’s Landing. “What’s bothering you, my love?” He says softly, his face turned to her as he waits patiently for her response.

“Did you enjoy your dance with Rhaenyra?” She quietly says, catching Daemon off guard with the sudden topic of Rhaenyra. “Yes, I was going to ask to ask you for a dance but-“ Leyla laughs at this.

“I am so stupid,” She groans as Daemon looks at her confused, “I was right all along” A scoff emits from her lips as Daemon takes ahold of her forearm. “Right about what Leyla?”

“Right about the fact that I am and will always be the second choice to Rhaenyra!” She bursts out, “What?” Daemon furrows his eyebrow, confused.

“You still love her don’t you? I can see it! The way you treat me and your own children Daemon! I-I thought that finally after all those years of me giving you my everything, you would love me back” She ranted as Daemon quietly listens.

“Are you done?” He mutters, Leyla looks at him, “What?” “I said, are you done?” Daemon says a bit louder. “Who is married to me, mother to my children, Leyla?” He asks.

She was confused at the sudden questions, “Me?” “Exactly, and who do I love?” Leyla ponders for a minute, “Rhaenyra.” She deadpan says, a small giggle leaving her lips soon after, her anger leaving her slowly.

Daemon chuckles too, turning his body towards her, he pulls her hand before wrapping themselves around his torso. “You, silly. I love you and I love our beautiful children, not Rhaenyra.” He clarifies, looking down at her.

“But-“ “When I look at her, I laugh at myself thinking how much of an idiot I was trying to chase her when I realised the only person I love was right infront of me. Thank you for everything you have given me” He smiles, kissing her forehead as Leyla listens intently.

“Though I would like to choke your cunt of a father for giving you to me at such a young age” Daemon mutters under his breath as Leyla laughs.

“Your are my wife, mother to our children. You will always be my first choice, Leyla.” This brought comfort to her, her lover finally reassuring that she was not second choice, “You will always be the most important person to me” Daemon squeezes Leyla as he brings his face down to hers for a kiss.

Their lips touch and all of Leyla’s pent up emotions and worries left her. She hummed in the kiss, the feeling never boring her. The two pull away when they hear the door suddenly opening.

Alyssa and Baelon came running in searching them before spotting the two on the balcony. “Alyssa, Baelon, come back here!” The poor women ran in out of breath, Aegon in her arms. She finally looks to Leyla and Daemon before curtsying, “My apologies my Prince, my Lady, they insisted on coming to see you” She sheepishly says.

Leyla and Daemon look at each other before letting out giggles. “It is alright, go rest, We’d like to spend time with our children” Leyla smiles at the women as Alyssa and Baelon cling to her dress. She engulfs the two in a hug as Daemon walks to the women to take Aegon.

Aegon cooed once in his father’s arms as Daemon smiles at the boy, “Looks quite like me doesn’t he?” He cheekily says as Aegon gently touches Daemon’s face with his small hands. “You wish, I think he looks awfully quite like me, disregarding the blonde hair” Leyla replies as she starts playing with Alyssa and Baelon.

Soon enough, Daemon sits beside Leyla, Aegon on his feet as he stands in between Daemon’s legs, holding his thigh for support. Leyla watched the scene infront of her, the children happily playing and Daemon infatuated with Aegon who was babbling.

Daemon takes Leyla’s hand bringing it closer to his lips. Placing a soft kiss on it, he speaks, “I love you, so so much” He murmurs against her soft hand as Leyla smiles. She was happy and content with what she had. “Daemon?” Leyla starts, “Hmm?” Daemon hums, busy with peppering your hand with kisses. “I’m pregnant.”