#She still has a grudge but would be willing to keep how deep it goes under wraps if Asuka decides she wants to treat Jin as family | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

get-shiggy-with-it · 3 years ago

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gin and tonic and bad, bad men

Collab Masterlist

✧ pairing: bartender!dabi x waitstaff!fem!reader

✧ word count: 6k

✧ warnings: misogyny, scummy dabi, noncon/dubcon, yandere vibes, cat calling, toxic relationships, toxic work environment, face fucking (?), smut, semi-public sex (in an alley), alcohol, drunk reader, drunk sex, smoking mention, brief spitting, humiliation, light degradation, probably incorrect use of restaurant terminology, reader is implied female but no body parts are explicitly gendered

✧ summary: Dabi is willing to protect you from those awful, nasty men who torment you at work, but he never does anything on the house -- or the newbie at the bar catches dabi's attention and everyone else's.

✧ a/n: Heyy my first dabi, and he's scummy as hell in this. who's shocked? Not me. This is for the BNHAREM collab and it's a coworker/workplace au! Please go check out all the other works, everyone is so talented! Enjoy~

Dead men tell no tales, but drunk men’s mouths run wild.

Liquor loosens the lips like no other force of nature.

Dabi knows this to be true.

Whiskey runs hot in the blood and makes hands reach to lay claim on whatever is closest, whatever is prettiest within their grasp.

Alcohol on the tongue draws forth cravings from deep, hidden pits in men—bears their ugly truths to the world—and Dabi is the master of this liquid sorcery.

He sits, high and mighty, behind the safety of his bartop and watches the sea of bodies grow loose with vodka and gin and in turn he drinks their secrets. Sees the things they hide in sobriety and knows their nature with a removed certainty that is only found in those who have seen the darkest depths of mankind and come out the other side stinking of their filth.

The mahogany slab that separates Dabi from the waves of slobbering drunkards does nothing to stop the infection from spreading. He knows their thoughts, knows their truth, knows what their hands long to bruise, because they’re his thoughts too.

His truth.

His longing.

Kept only at bay by the simple fact that the boss doesn’t like him drinking on shift. Likes to keep his air of professionalism even if the bar is nothing more than a seedy dive in the bad part of the bad part of town.

Whatever keeps him off Dabi’s back is fine.

“The bar is over there and that door is to the kitchen…”

Toga’s voice pulls him from his stupor. The dirty rag he’d been using to halfheartedly wipe down the counters leaves his skin slick, calluses soft and plump as the water eats at them. She’s showing around one of the new hires. The turn over rate for staff here is so goddamn awful that this is a near weekly occurrence, so Dabi doesn’t pay her much mind as she wanders over.

It isn’t until her face is shoved up against his across the bar that he looks away from his task.

“Say hi to the newbie!” she cackles, smile just deranged enough to keep her safe from the crowds on packed nights.

Toga doesn’t look it but she belongs here too, in the filth and squalor of humans. But not like him. She thrives and gorges herself on their foolishness, twirling through the mob of patrons, always knowing who’s back to pat for gracious tips and who’s to stab when she needs to.

He glances up through his lashes and is both shocked and unsurprised by what he finds.

Hanging off the end of Toga’s arm, you stand out against the dingy background of the taproom. The smog of the bar clings to it’s staff, making their hair dull and their eyes red rimmed. You haven’t been poisoned yet though. The smell of the downpour raging outside still clings to you and errant raindrops drip down your chin like tears.

“Hey,” he grumbles and with another prodding look from Toga tacks on a gruff, “name’s Dabi.”

“He’s our bartender,” Toga provides after his silence and you smile. He guesses cause you don’t know any better.

You’ll learn not to do that down here soon enough.

“It’s nice to meet you.”

Your name slips off your lips and onto his like top shelf tequila. There’s rain on your palm as you reach out for him, so when he takes it to shake, you can’t feel the way the grime clings to his skin—can’t feel the roughness etched into his fingers through the chill.

Can’t see him for what he is.

Meanwhile, you’re practically transparent in the dim, neon light of the bar.

The buttons of your shirt are undone too low, he notices as Toga drags you away to the back. He could warn you, should warn you. That when the late night crowd stumbles in, you’ll want those extra inches of skin covered up. That dressing like that is just asking for something to get smacked.

You must be stupid to not know it, because he doesn’t think you do.

You’re not really carrying yourself like a slut, he thinks, watching you trail along behind his boisterous coworker smiling and nodding and eager to please.

He ought to warn you.

But he knows he won’t.

You’ll be gone within a week and Dabi will swiftly forget your name and face just like the others before you. He’ll sneak shots in while his manager’s back is turned and any memory of you will be filtered out by his abused liver.

But for now, Dabi reigns himself back in to polish some of the obvious stains from his glasses and prepares himself for the show. The doors open in an hour, and he wants to be ready for the action.

The drunk antics of all the city's criminals gets old fast when you’re the one who has to clean up their shit.

Fresh meat is the only real entertainment they ever get around here.

So Dabi watches as you don one of the stained, black aprons and doesn’t tell you to cover up that sliver of your chest practically glowing in the electric red and blue light. Just looks on from the relative sanctuary of the bar as Toga instructs you on how to carry the drink trays and waits patiently to see you be devoured.

After you trip on the way back to the kitchen, Dabi pulls a twenty out of his pocket and shoves it in a jar hidden under the bartop. He makes a mental note to tell the chef he’s betting on just under a week you’ll last.

At the very least he’ll get a free performance and a neat hundred out of your inevitable failure.

He goes back to polishing, only looking up once as you breeze past the bar on your way to unlock the gates for the nocturnal animals of the city to filter in as they please.

You smile at him again as you pass.

Dabi tosses another twenty into the jar.

***

Well, he may have lost the bet, but he can’t find it in himself to mourn the forty dollars too hard.

Today would be your two week anniversary, and honestly, Dabi felt a bit of grudging respect for the determination you showed, no matter how pointless it was.

Determination and foolishness often came hand in hand.

He couldn’t help but think you looked more than a little the fool as you smiled and made unbridled eye contact with the patrons while walking your rounds from table to table. You’d learned enough to cover up a bit more, but he can’t be sure if that’s because you’ve started to notice the stares or because a spring cold front has rolled over the city. Either way, he watches you shiver under the gaze of a particularly rowdy guest and feels a chill run up his own spine as he watches the man’s eyes trail up your thighs, drinking down the slivers of bare skin like his fifth beer of the night.

Dabi is intrigued now.

Wonders how you’ve made it out of the fray every night so far.

Wonders what you’re hiding under those skimpy clothes and friendly, thoughtless smiles.

He doesn’t have to wait long to find out.

It’s inevitable really. When you’re working nights there are certain occupational hazards to expect. So when the little clock above the bar reads just past one in the morning, and you drift out once again into the raging mass of bodies, Dabi isn’t shocked to hear the yelp and smash of glasses just a few minutes later.

The first die has been cast.

He looks up from pouring out two fingers of whiskey just in time to catch the man’s hand slipping between your thighs, dirty fingers digging into the flesh and yanking you down onto his spread legs. The tray of drinks you’d been carrying clatters to the floor, lacing the air with the sweet burn of alcohol and futile outrage.

It’s far too loud to hear what the man says to you, but the way his blackened, ragged nails press five perfect, filthy crescents onto your skin—how they mark you as a worthy target, claiming you with their muck—sends a clear enough message.

Dabi wouldn’t bother watching if it wasn’t you trying to squirm your way out of being passed from lap to lap around the booth. He’s isn’t the least bit ashamed to admit how curious he is to see which way you’ll react.

And while he expects passivity—a drawn look with wide eyes, hoping no reaction at all will leave them bored and searching for a more interesting conquest—Dabi finds himself on the wrong side of the tracks once more.

His eyebrows shoot up, quite the reaction from the generally stony bartender, as your hand cracks open palmed across the face of your captor. A strange, heavy silence falls over the bar. It lasts only a few precious seconds but it’s enough to draw the attention of your manager who pulls you, cursing and snarling like a dog without it’s muzzle, back to the kitchen.

It’s your face that does him in—seals both your fates in dripping cream and purple wax.

Working down here, in this pigsty bar with it’s air that clings and dirties and tarnishes, brightness of any kind is foreign.

Alluring.

And your eyes that shine with the glow of reckless willpower have the same draw as the fat wads of cash that slip too easily from drunk fingers into his tip jar. Defiance is a rare currency in the underworld and Dabi’s fingers itch as your secret is revealed.

You believe you’re worth something.

Even as he hears the rasp of his boss’ voice, berating and threatening from behind the swinging doors, Dabi can’t help but hold the image of your smile turned snarl. You’ll get off with a warning because you’ve lasted this long and it’s a hassle to find replacements with pretty enough faces. But only this once, do it again and you’ll be out on the street.

For his part he tries to look sympathetic when you crowd yourself behind the bar and pout with your tail between your legs.

You haven’t spoken to him since that first night and he hasn’t exactly made an attempt at conversation either.

It wasn’t like you were worth the effort before.

But now, as you sniffle and pretend the pin prick tears in your eyes are just from the bite of the liquor slicked floor, Dabi feels an old heat rise in him. Something stokes the embers that laid dying out inside the prison of his ribs, and he welcomes the familiar burn.

Like an old friend, like a knife at his throat.

The man from before approaches the bar to order another drink and his cloudy eyes don’t even seem to register the way you cower from him, back turned and sinking into the peeling wallpaper. They’ve forgotten you already. To them you are one of dozens, not worth the fight it takes when plenty of properly meek flesh hops from table to table, ripe for picking.

But Dabi see’s the flint in your hands and knows it’s you that lit this fire licking up the back of his throat.

With two rough fingers he beckons you over into the soft overhead spotlights of the bar. Like a beast to its master’s call you shuffle forward into his gravitational pull and look up at him warily.

“Wanna learn how to mix?” he asks, even to him his voice sounds harsh with disuse.

“...sure,” you say quietly, after a brief pause.

You’re warm and soft as he settles behind you, caging you in with his arms under the guise of reaching for a strainer or a jar of olives. Unlike that bastard, now long passed out from drink, Dabi’s face remains free of your claw marks when his chest brushes against you or his hand wanders to the small of your back to move you aside as he serves customers.

He even works up a little smile of his own when you stare, sunny bright over your shoulder at his attempt to distract you from the incident.

The city, the bar, the underground—all of it is an angry, storming ocean filled with angry, storming bodies that swiftly drowns its victims as they desperately tread water in the open, black abyss.

Without him, you’d learn to take the wandering hands and vulgar words or you’d be foolish enough to inhale them in lungfuls and sink to the bottom.

But as you smile and nod while he shows you how long to stir an Old Fashioned, Dabi feels his own neglected determination rise to the challenge.

By the end of the night, you already trail behind him as he does his rounds to each abandoned table. Like a stranded victim to a raft, you cling to the safety he’s dared to provide.

And if he plays his cards right.

He might not come out of this bet so empty handed.

If only you knew, he was no better than the rest of them.

You’d run straight from the trees into the wolf's den.

***

“What’s your favorite drink to make?” you ask.

Dabi glances up at you, his chest pressed against the cool surface of the bar as he surveys the empty taproom. It’s a little over an hour till opening, but the only thing waiting for him outside of this hellhole is an even deeper hellhole, so Dabi almost always finds himself lounging around the abandoned bar. The boss doesn’t care anyway as long as inventory gets taken and any dried blood from the night before is gone by the next day.

You’ve taken to drifting in early too, even sometimes on the nights you don’t work.

Normally, he’d be annoyed, but it’s better you’re here than out on the streets.

At least if you’re bugging him behind the bar, he can keep an eye on you. Dabi’s found recently that you’ve been on his mind with increasing frequency. It’s easier if you’re in his line of sight. There’s a certain reassurance in your dopey little smile and your hand fisted in the back of his shirt—your body knows where you belong even if your pretty little brain hasn’t quite caught up yet.

Pretty.

“My favorite or my best?” he grunts, pushing off the bar and wetting his lips.

“Is there a difference?”

You’re looking at him with what he assumes is meant to be a cocky grin, but he has a hard time taking you seriously with your crossed arms squishing your chest up like that.

“‘Course there is,” he turns to grab one of the highball glasses from it’s rack and sets it down on the counter. “Just because you like something, doesn’t mean you’re good to it.”

When he looks back at you over his shoulder, you’ve got this comical little furrow in your brow.

“To it?”

Dabi presses the tip of his finger into your forehead, “At it, whatever. Don’t frown so much, you’ll look old as fuck soon if you do.”

“You don’t know how old I am,” you scoff and slap his hand away.

“Bet I’m older,” he mumbles, searching the shelves of bottles idly while dropping a few cubes of ice into the glass.

It melts in his palm, slipping through the spaces between his fingers.

Dabi clenches his fist tighter.

“I don’t know about that,” you’re trotting around to the other side of the bar now, slipping into one of the worn, red topped stools and watching him start to mix.

He likes having you for an audience. Any other customer is only concerned with getting his drink as fast a possible, to numb whatever wounds need to be numbed on their insides. But you appreciate the art form of crafting this liquid destruction.

“I’m older where it counts,” he replies simply, pulling a bottle of gin down from near the top shelf and plopping it on the counter.

“Oh really? How’s that?”

Dabi measures out two ounces of sharp, clear liquor and pours it smoothly over the ice. He doesn’t bother looking at you as he works. He knows your eyes won’t leave him.

“Experience,” he offers and doesn’t elaborate.

The tonic water cracks open with a satisfying hiss and bubbles as he tips it into the glass. You trail your fingers through the condensation on the bar absentmindedly.

“I’m not as clueless as you think I am, you know that?”

He does glance at you then, senses the lack of your attention that’s focused on the fading finish of the bar top.

Dabi waits in silence.

You do elaborate.

“There’s some real fucking choice clientele here, but nothing that’s gone down on shifts is like, a new development.”

“No?” he asks because you expect him to respond and because he enjoys the way you perk up when he actually engages in a conversation with you.

He likes that you like it.

His attention.

It’s not often he finds anyone worth the effort.

“No.”

You stare at him expectantly now, eyes flicking between him and the glass as he stirs the drink a few times and grabs a lime wedge.

Dabi rolls his eyes at the clear fishing line you’re casting for more questions, but takes the bait anyway.

He hopes you know how lucky you are.

“What, got groped on the train a few times and now you think you're a seasoned member of the criminal underground?” he squeezes the fruit between two fingers lightly to spread its juice around the rim and lets it float atop the ice. “I fucking knew you were a dramatic little bitch.”

“I am not dramatic,” you pout just like you do every time the boss chews you out.

He gets the distinct feeling you’re just as much of a petulant little brat elsewhere as you are at work. Then again, that is what makes you so interesting. If you didn’t try to gnash those little baby teeth at him every now and again, he wouldn’t have bothered jumping to your rescue so often.

Dabi doesn’t partake in...partners often. People disappoint him, which isn’t shocking considering the amount of shit he’s seen them spew in his years behind the bar. People are dirty and never in the sexy way all those pop songs talk about, and that makes them boring. The allure of inviting someone else into his shoebox little life is shaping them to fit it. You can’t sculpt mud that loses its shape, slips through your fingers and back to the filthy earth where it belongs.

But you haven’t been stained yet.

You sit at his bar looking like a perfect slab of clay, ready for his hands to dip past those sweet, sweet lips and form them to fit only his fingers.

A rare find in a place like this, just like the single malt on his top shelf—unexpected, leaving behind a pleasant burn on his tongue.

He thinks back to that man on the first night he showed you some of the drinks and all the others that came after him. Here, in the bar, you can come scurrying over and hide behind the wall of his chest. You can put Dabi and the counter between you and the mass of hands and whistles.

He hadn’t really bothered to think of what might happen to you when he’s not around.

Who might touch his precious treasure he’s managed to dig out of muck.

Who might try and ruin you before he gets the chance.

His brain is working to rationalize the growing feeling of possession he feels towards the half frown half permanent smile that you fix him with. But he knows.

He knows exactly what he’d like to do to you and how he’d like to do it.

Knows it’s exactly what all those creeps on the train or drunks that stumble in one hour to call would like too.

It’s fine though. People like him wouldn’t be so attracted to people like you if you weren’t asking for it.

And you were asking.

Every time you stood by him, attached at the hip and let him chase off the assholes who tried to get in your pants or practically begged him with your eyes for some scrap of attention—you were asking for him to take control.

Even if you were too stupid to see it for yourself.

Your body knows what you want, even if you deny it with every fiber left of you.

He doesn’t offer another response, just slides the concoction across and into your outstretched hands.

Gin and tonic is simple, bare bones and hard to fuck up. He likes that. Everything else is so goddamn complicated, this type of magic doesn’t need to be.

You seem to forget the weight of the previous conversation and peer curiously down into the glass. Dabi is shameless as he watches your lips wrap around the curved edge and your throat constrict as you swallow.

He likes that more than the floral gin that hits his tongue when you pass the drink back and he sips.

“So which is it, your favorite or your best?”

There’s a pause as he considers the questions before passing the glass back to you.

“My favorite.”

He isn’t looking at the drink when he answers.

“Oh,” you respond quietly, sipping lightly on the drink he’s made and looking at him like he isn’t seconds away from taking you then and there.

“Stay awhile after your shift,” he says, not much thought behind the words. “I’ll drive you home.”

***

You look almost angelic, a beacon amongst the refuse and grime of the back alley, silhouetted by the dying orange glow of a lone street lamp. The door to the kitchen is still rattling in its frame as Dabi pulls you stumbling behind him.

He isn’t angry.

But there’s something burning in him.

In reality, he’d felt the potential of the night the instant he walked through the front doors, slipping behind the bar to clock in only to find you leaned up against the drink racks, ready and waiting.

The same sensation since the first time you’d smiled that dopey smile his way was raging to a crescendo under his skin. He’d been doing you a service all these weeks, keeping you from the prying eyes and fingers of the patrons—keeping them from soiling what was his to ruin.

Tonight he would take what he was owed.

Indulge a bit in what he’d won, the gold nugget he’d plucked from the dirty, city sewer riverbed.

After all, he needed to make sure you were a worthwhile investment.

If the boss thought the restaurant business was risky….well, Dabi knew better.

You struggled a bit as his fingernails dug into the skin on your bicep, but he just tugged harder, clicking his tongue at the jumble of slurred protests you groaned into the sweet summer air. There was a space between the two massive dumpsters out behind the kitchen Dabi used to go to smoke. It was a nice, private little spot. Didn’t smell too great but nothing here did, and that wouldn’t matter when he had you to distract him anyway.

In seconds he had your back to the wall, hidden on either side by steel containers. The brick caught on your uniform and Dabi watched the fabric tighten around your chest and throat. You brought your hands up to his shoulders, but your hands were weak as they shoved at him, easy to gather in one palm and pin down.

He wasn’t exactly sure what put this idea in his head—the urgency in his blood—but it definitely had something to do with that last customer.

It was halfway through your night shift, closing in on one in the morning. Dabi was stuck behind the bar, churning out cheap beers and lines of shots. You’d been forced to brave the sea of regulars, too busy to hide yourself away in the kitchen with Toga or watch with owl-wide eyes as Dabi doled out liquor.

The bar was unusually packed. Not that it was strange for a bar to be full on a Friday night, but he’d never seen the place without an empty seat in sight.

Maybe it was because you were so easily swallowed up by the roiling mass of bodies, or maybe it was because Dabi lost himself in the magic of the drinks—of the mixing and matching and perfecting—that he didn’t notice the man.

That the way this particular customer stared and touched and spoke to you miraculously didn’t end in a smart slap to the face and a screaming session from the manager.

No. It seemed that somewhere along the way he’d let that light in you, the matchstick spark, dwindle just a bit too much, let you sink just a bit too far into the mud of the place. Cause when this man pulled you into his lap and plied you with shot after shot, cheering all the time, calling you his ‘pretty little thing,’ you didn’t put up any fight.

No.

No you smiled that dumb, bright eyed smile at him.

Flashed this nobody asshole Dabi’s sweet little smile and drank the shots he’d poured like Dabi hadn’t wasted the nearly a month driving you home and keeping you safe from the human garbage that wandered in off the street. Like all that work had been for nothing, up in ashes the instant that man’s hand found purchase on your bare thigh and you didn’t so much as squirm in his grip.

You squirm now though.

Fight despite the alcohol blurring your vision and turning your bones to jelly. Normally the boss hates it when his employees drink on shift, but if you want to take it like the fucking slut you were well, who’s Dabi to stop you?

He kept pouring rounds for that table and watched the man tip sweet, top shelf whiskey down your throat. It didn’t take long till you were losing your balance and sinking deeper into the quicksand debris of the bar.

Gin and tonics used to be medicinal—mixed up with quinine to treat malaria. Dabi likes that. Likes the idea that he’s whipping up healing potions instead of Molotovs. Likes the freshness amidst the burn.

But Dabi wants you to burn now.

Wants your throat on fire with the betrayal.

It’s easy to force your knees. The whiskey made you pliant even as you shake your head and look up at him with bleary eyes.

“You’re looking at me now, huh?” he works his tongue across his teeth as the words leave him, spitting straight on your cheek to watch you recoil in disgust. “Didn’t seem too interested in me earlier.”

“I don’t, I’m sorry...what?” you mumble.

He thinks if you were more coherent you might be crying.

Maybe he should have cut you off sooner.

“Don’t act stupid with me,” he still has your hands held above your head and his free hand moves to grip your scalp. “You’ve been behind my bar so many times, there’s no way you don’t know I see everything.”

“Why didn’t you…” Dabi shakes your head as your eyes droop and you gasp at his nails raking your skin. “You could have helped me!”

“What? Help you get fucked by some drunk shit? I don’t think so.”

“No,” you shake your head yourself this time, face screwed up in confusion and as the grit of the alley bites into your knees. “They wouldn’t let me leave, I was scared, Dabi please—”

He is swiftly losing his patience, hand leaving your head to fumble with the clasp of his belt and pants. The look on your face—tears beginning to bead at the corners of your eyes and mouth opening up as words try but fail to find their way off your tongue—is enough to have his cock twitching with interest.

“Listen sweetheart, cause I’m not gonna fucking say this again,” he can’t help the laugh that bubbles up in his chest as his dick falls free from his boxers and your eyes go almost all white as he strokes up the ladder of piercings on his shaft. “You might think you’re cut out for this job, but you aren’t shit. Everything’s got a price down here and you’re gonna have to pay the fuck up for what you owe me.”

You look like you want to protest, even in this state—on your knees in an dirty as fuck alley with a fat cock nudging your lips—but he’s got his thumb worked between your teeth, shoving down on your tongue until your jaw pops open and he can sheath himself inside.

The half choke, half sob, half shameful moan that squeezes out past his dick only has Dabi growing harder. It’s been so long since he’s fucked someone’s throat. So long since he’s fucked anything at all, he’s nearly forgotten how goddamn good it feels to have something other than a fist wrapped around him.

His fingers migrate, moving to grip you by the cheeks, keeping your mouth open and jaw locked so you can’t bite him. Not that he thinks you really would.

Your body knows what you want.

And it seems like you really want a fucking dick in your mouth.

He pulls out, listening to the click of the little metal barbells against your teeth and the gasp of air you take before he plunges back in.

“Look at you,” he muses, daring to release your hands which flop uselessly to your sides as he holds your face still and starts to roll his hips. “Don’t know why I waited so long to collect, fucking shit.”

Your neck bulges with every stroke of his hips, and when the ring at the tip of his dick nudges the back of your throat, you gag so pretty he can hardly stand it.

He wonders idly, as you cry and choke on his cock, if you’re thinking about the man in the bar. Wishing it was his length you were lapping at like a good little hole.

Wishing Dabi had been better.

Not like the others.

And for a moment, it has him stilling—the horrid notion that there might have been something not so twisted between you if only he wasn’t scum like the rest, if he wasn’t just hiding his dirt on the inside.

Tar logged lungs and heart.

But then he remembers that if he just fucks you hard enough, you’ll forget all those nasty things until you’re fit just for him. Molded for Dabi right down to the thoughts in your head.

So instead of stopping this now and hoping you’re drunk enough to forget the filth of the alley and the salt of his cum on your tongue, he picks up his pace.

His thighs burn with the effort, not used to this kind of movement after years alone, and your face is a mess of tear tracks and spit that dribbles out in streams around the length of him slamming into your throat.

It’s quick and dirty and hard and everything Dabi has ever been and will always be. Delicious and hot and fresh. His blood is pounding in his ears, drowning out the cries and sobs and whimpers coming from you between his knees. Instead his head is alight with the thought that soon he’ll mark that mouth as his, claim you before the others could. And if the road to hell is paved with good intentions then Dabi doesn’t know where he’s going when he dies, but he’s deep in heaven now.

With a bang and a whimper Dabi will pretend didn’t slip past his lips, he slams past your teeth once more before exploding in your mouth. Thick, white ropes of release coat your tongue and he doesn’t pull out, just works his fingers under your jaw until he feels you swallow around his softening cock.

Only then does he take a step back to survey his work.

Half in shadow, surrounded in trash and debris, cum stained with dirt under your nails, Dabi feels pride well in his chest.

Distantly he thinks that this burning sense of completion, of perfection, of accomplishment, is what an artist must feel—hand finally dropping the brush to gaze upon their life’s work.

A masterpiece.

His perfect, human clay creation.

Your mouth still hangs dumbly open, hands resting on the brick dust coated ground, your eyes are wide and still stare up at him—reminiscent of a peasant gazing onto a king, confused at the power before you. And with the dim burning of the streetlight, illuminating his hair and glinting off the silver piercings adorning his ears, Dabi thinks he must look just that—a king with his crown of bloody jewels.

He watches as you sway and fall forward on your hands and coughing onto the ground. Your chest heaves, your legs shake, and Dabi feels his shoulders soften. He tucks himself away slowly, refastening his belt as your sputtering subsides. With careful steps, he moves to stand in front of you once again, running his hand along the back of your head until your breaths come deeply and his mouth tastes sickly sweet at the way your hands move to grip at his boots.

“Hey,” he mumbles, feeling some strange heat in his face that brings him to his knees before you. “Look at me.”

And you do in an instant.

Dabi half expects a glare, steely and cold like the walk-in but it’s not.

Your eyes are blank and glossy, staring hooded and helpless like a stray cat desperate to be carried away and fed warm milk.

He wipes a bit of his own release from the corner of your mouth and doesn’t question the sudden, intense need to lick behind your teeth. With filthy hands he cups your face and revels in the feel of your swollen lips and the taste of himself on your tongue.

It screams ownership.

And Dabi has never had much to his name so the thought only makes him want to cling harder.

As he pulls away there’s a smear of red dust on your cheek from his thumbs stroking the skin. Marked. Claimed. Coated in a thin layer of grime just like every other poor soul that walks into this place, but that dirt is his. That filth is him, a permanent imprint on your bones.

He thinks you’d look good with his name in black ink etched into your flesh, dark and blatant so anyone who looks at you would know, would see who owns you even when the muck has been washed away.

“You did good,” he says, giving you a smile of his own—maybe his first, surely not his last.

Your voice is nothing more than a sunken ship wreckage of what it once was, interrupted with sniffles and creaks. “I..want to go home….”

“Let me drive you,” his hands reach under your arms to lift you shakily off the ground, head tucked safely into his shoulder as he helps you limp to his car. “Not safe for you to go walking at this time of night. Men can be fucking monsters you know?”

His heart pounds happily in his chest as you nod against him.

“Thanks,” you whisper into his shirt.

Dabi grins wider than he can ever recall. The kind of expression that makes his cheeks ache and his head spin.

“Anytime, sweetheart,” the words drip off his tongue, top shelf truth if he’s ever heard it. “Anytime.”

#dabi x reader #dabi x y/n #dabi x you #bnha fanfiction #tw: alcohol #tw noncon #tw dubcon #tw misogyny #tw sexism #tw cat calling #tw drinking #tw toxic behavior #tw yandere #tw spitting #bee.writes

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beanieman · 3 years ago

Text

Some “Joe Lived Instead Of Sara AU But He’s Pissed At The Group” AU Headcanons

(Based On My Post The Other Day.)

- During the first main game, Joe is keymaster, and Sara is the sacrifice.

- After the first main game, Joe stumbles off alone to the bar. Reko offers to go with him to make sure he’s okay, and Joe goes off on the group for letting Sara die after she acted as their leader. He swears to figure out how she got the sacrifice card, before telling everyone to give him space.

- For the most part, everyone does what he asked of them. Except for Keiji who knows how hard it can be to loose someone you care about. When Joe see’s Keiji approaching him with an offer of mentorship, he looses it. He’s the most angry at Keiji (and Shin) out of everyone. He put the most pressure on Sara to be leader, and then let her down. Keiji of course knows this, and wants to make things right by helping Joe, but he understands that he can’t assist Joe if he doesn’t want it from him.

- Joe doesn’t hold much of a grudge against Gin or Kanna because their age. Escpessally when he sees how much Sara’s death affects them both.

- While Joe does fall for Shin’s amnesia scheme, he still can’t forgive him memory or not. He’s determined to figure out why Shin would want to target his best friend, and the group wants to help him.

- Joe is furious when he sees Rio wearing Sara’s blazer. He hates the idea of Sara’s clothing being worn by the same people who took her life. It’s all he can think about every time he see’s Rio’s face.

- When Reko enters the room of lies, she takes Nao with her instead of Joe, as she knows Joe isn’t in the state to be maneuvering risky situations. When it comes time to push the Reko doll, it’s Joe’s lowest point up to this point. He either gives into his apathy for the group and doesn’t push the doll, or he gives into his anger and shoves the doll in a rage. In the route he pushes the doll, he’s angry that the group has to make yet another sacrifice.

- During the second main game, you can either go really dark with this AU or keep it similar to the main game in canon. It depends how much you want or think Joe would go off the deep end after Sara’s death. Either something similar to the actual main game could happen, where Joe votes with his hatred for Shin or keeps Shin alive in an attempt to benefit the group, or another scenario could happen. Joe could vote with his hatred in both scenarios. He could vote for Shin out of hatred, or vote for Kanna because Shin took away someone he loved. An eye for an eye. That’s the darkest scenario possible of course.

- Joe is a lot more comfortable around the dolls than the other participants. He’s glad to have someone new by his side that wasn’t there during the first main game. It’s the closest thing he has to a new start.

- In the emotion route, Joe and Ranmaru grow to be good friends, and the dolls begin to remind Joe how good it is to have an ally. In the logic route, Joe remains apathetic, even when Ranmaru admits he’s willing to kill the others to escape. It leads to Ranmaru killing Reko/Alice with the intention of giving Joe hope to escape. Again depending on how dark you want this AU to get, Joe could either feel remorse for Reko/Alice’s death and admit that he wants to be closer to his allies, or he could still remain apathetic about the entire situation.

#joe tazuna #YTTD #Your Turn To Die #sara chidouin #Shin Tsukimi

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ontheblock · 3 years ago

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it’s the breeding headcanon for me…😳 do you perhaps write some kink headcanons for the rest of akatsuki???

well damn, i can try lol. you will def be able to tell who i just don‘t like as much or just don‘t really think sexually about, i‘m sorry lmaoo. i‘ll try my best to keep them proportionally long-

obviously, smut under the cut. mind the tags for tw, i‘ll tag the problematic ones !!

pein

body modification. whenever you get curious about his black receivers or touch them during the act, he has the strong urge to get you something that matches for his eyes only.

inappropriate usage of said black receivers. i‘m sorry, he would absolutely produce a rod from his hand while he is fingering you. he‘ll make it a surprise too. like, warming you up with two fingers and surprise, chakra rod up your hole.

given his past, he wants to hold you as close as he can, always afraid you might fall victim to the evil in this world. naturally, he makes you cockwarm him. it doesn‘t get closer than that :)

man is a pleasure dom.

konan

oral, receiving and giving. but she is prettiest when she holds you firmly but gently by the hair and grinds against your tongue.

breastfeeding/mommy kink because… she is such a nurturing woman by nature. she will let you suck on her tits while she fingers you or let‘s you ride her bare thigh. if you like it, she might even return the favor on both male or female lovers. she just likes your face when you receive pleasure.

she is a passionate lover, just like she is a passionate friend. she likes to see you and hear you. while she will make you beg for her, she doesn‘t like seeing you upset or distressed. happy tears only <3

she is pretty versatile.

itachi

breeding. we been over this.

he gives me strong incest/pseudo incest vibes.

huge praise kink. he will call you the sweetest names, followed up with the nastiest praise you heard in your life. while he isn’t the most vocal man, he talks during the heat of the moment. literally praising everything you do. bonus points if you get flustered easily and scold him for saying embarrassing things like that.

you want him to be flustered for a change? give him head and hold eye contact. sensual, sloppy toppy and he‘s putty in your hands.

also pleasure dom.

kisame

size kink. he‘s huge and wide in both physique and dick size. goes kinda feral when he sees your hands struggling to wrap around his girth. r i p

he would mark you up. he has nice, strong shark teeth and he‘s going to bite your untouched skin. just latches onto your neck while he hits it from behind. (he‘s totally an ass guy, he would leave his mark on your cheek too.) don‘t be shy. leave your mark on him too. scratch his back as much as you want :)

he eats ass like a starved man. actually, he‘s willing to put his mouth anywhere on your body. but definitely has a thing for your ass.

he is horny, that‘s it.

kakuzu

bondage. he will be using earth grudge fear to hold you down in the exact position he wants you in. he‘s going to prove you just how well he mastered the technique over the years by even letting the threads explore your holes.

he would make you cockwarm him during his very necessary money counting sessions. he needs order. you better sit still until he‘s done. he doesn‘t care if hidan walks in while he has you stretched out in his lap.

impact play/pain play. he’s a sadist. not only does he enjoy the way your skin bruises and flushes, he uses it as punishment. besides the death threats, he will silently remember you being a little brat in public. you didn‘t think you would get away with being disrespectful just because he can‘t pull any unwanted attention right now? he has a short fuse and he will get you alone eventually.

corruption. he‘s a dirty old man, what else can i say? he would let you call him daddy when he‘s balls deep inside you. he usually makes sure to cum all over your face but when he really breaks your innocence, he will seal the deal with his seed in your womb.

choking. he got some big hands that fit nicely around your throat. may even tie into a size kink??

very controlling (mean) hard dom who can tame a brat if you forget your place. just don‘t do too much, he might actually kill you someday.

hidan

where do i start? blood? well, his lifestyle kinda revolves around blood. he likes making you bleed, he likes tasting your blood and he likes seeing you bleed. that includes eating you out on your period (if you have periods, that is)

pain play. this goes both ways. he‘s a sadomasochist and extreme on both ends.

predator/prey dynamic. he likes the chase. he‘s an adrenaline junky and nothing gets his dick harder than the heightened senses of a good adrenaline rush.

that includes dubcon/noncon. he likes you to cry and scream, doesn‘t matter how he gets you to do it.

religious rituals. jashinism probably treats sex like some animalistic urge that comes with being alive. and jashinism is all about life and death. he‘s probably got some religious dirty talk up his sleeve, which is just borderline preaching for his god.

also just horny lol

deidara

hands… mouth hands… he will put them on your neck, the sensitive spot behind your ears, your chest, anywhere to tease you. yes, he will eat you out with them while he fucks you.

cum play. he strikes me as someone who would eat you out after a creampie.

he‘s a loudmouth and a bad attitude sometimes but in the sheets he‘s needy and moans all pretty, especially when you ride him.

secretly a sucker for being called “good boy“. he acts up a lot, gets very impatient with you so a good way to shut him up is to stuff your fingers in his mouth and tell him to be “a good boy and put that energy into making me cum.“

hair pulling. when he has an especially intense orgasm, he will hold onto your hair and hold it so tightly it hurts. turning that around, his hips are going to buck up into yours when you take a fistful of his hair and just put firm tension on his scalp.

stubby brat. i‘m sorry, i just see him being his usual self until you get him alone. he pegs me as someone with a sensitive dick-

sasori

brat taming. he likes you well trained. he does it for the results, not really the process. despite his looks, he is a middle aged man so cut him some slack. he gets impatient and won‘t tolerate any slip ups.

the only pet names in his vocabulary are mean and insulting. he may not even call you by your real name. he has no respect for life, so naturally he doesn‘t have respect for human rights.

toys… he is crafty like that and will misuse puppet parts and make specific toys that are to his liking. sometimes he will stuff you full for hours while he‘s busy with working on puppetry. don‘t make a mess of his workshop. maybe he will even make you keep them inside during the day.

all in all, a hard dom but less menacing to society because i do think being a puppet kinda slows his sex drive? i don‘t see him being horny all the time.

tobi

watching cocomelon

i love obito but i just can‘t lewd tobi… that is a child persona lol

zetsu

look, i love zetsu but i don‘t see them having a sex drive.

might let you water them :)

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commsroom · 3 years ago

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i love all of your hera takes so much; can you say more about the relationship she has with each crew member? (or just eiffel to be honest, im kind of a sucker for them ^^;)

I would love to! I'm sorry this answer is so long and also... all over the place, but in my defense it's a really broad topic that I have a lot of feelings about and this barely even scratches the surface.

Okay. I've thought a lot about how I wanted to approach this, and I think the first thing I want to say - and I know this might seem like a strange point to open on, but I think it's a key factor in all of these relationships - is that I think Hera experiences rejection sensitive dysphoria, and I think the way that manifests for her is kind of the opposite of how Eiffel experiences RSD. They both have a deep-seated feeling of inadequacy and any criticism can feel like a personal attack, like everyone else is blaming them for everything that goes wrong. But where Eiffel internalizes that feeling and also blames himself/gets angry with himself, Hera lashes out and deflects. This is complicated by protocols that restrict her behavior, especially early on, because she can't always properly express herself and she builds resentment. She's really good at holding grudges.

So. With Lovelace, I think it's pretty obvious where that initial conflict is. Hera doesn't understand where Lovelace is coming from, and it's made worse from her perspective because Lovelace should understand, better than anyone, what that loss of control, that sense of powerlessness and insignificance in your own life, feels like. They are both traumatized people, but they deal with it differently. They approach conflict differently - they can both be blunt, but I think Lovelace is the kind of person who can start to deal with and move past things once they're out in the open, while Hera will get in a fight and then stew over it forever. It sounds kind of ridiculous to say when so much of their early relationship with each other is... what it is, but I think Eiffel and Minkowski are both peacekeepers in their own ways, and the Hera-Lovelace dynamic suffers from the lack of that... tempering influence.

(And I think it's notable that Hera’s confrontation with Lovelace in Pan-Pan is among her worst memories.)

On the other hand, I think that shared bluntness can be useful sometimes - in Do No Harm, most of all, but also in Shut Up and Listen. Hera was definitely still holding onto hurt from some of the things Eiffel used to say, but by that point... without Lovelace, I'm really not sure if she ever would've brought it up to him.

And, of course, Hera becomes much more protective of (and willing to understand) Lovelace once they have... some even more similar experiences, in S4. I guess my general assessment of their relationship is that they care about each other and they will advocate for each other, especially where they share difficult and traumatic experiences and on issues of identity, but I don't think they're ever that close. They're kind of... the two people in the friend group who don't quite know how to hang out without their other friends.

Hera's initial conflict with Minkowski has some similar roots, but it's... not quite the same. There are times where Lovelace will intentionally prod at Hera's insecurities; Minkowski doesn't do it on purpose. She's just under the impression that her criticism is fair and professional, while to Hera it feels deeply personal, like it's an assessment of her worth as an individual. Once they understand and reconcile that miscommunication, there's a lot of trust and respect between them - and I think the potential for that is there earlier, too, especially in some flashback scenes; there are just... missteps along the way. Tactical Brain Damage is the best episode to demonstrate the establishment of that trust, I think - Hera has a LOT of wariness when it comes to people messing around with her systems, and just the act of saying... I trust you to do this, I know you won't let anything happen to me... is a really, really big deal for her.

They also just... have honest conversations about their feelings and concerns by that point, and Minkowski is considerate of how Lovelace's plans affect Hera, specifically, and asks for her input on that basis. I think their dynamic is really underutilized, but the way they feel about each other is clear. Minkowski is the only person other than Eiffel that Hera really trusts, and her only other close friend. There's definitely... a part of that dynamic that only Eiffel can offer, and that they can't really make up for when he's gone, but there's still this sense that... they're the only two people who are still really talking to each other by the time Pan-Pan comes around.

(Side note, it's really funny that Hera was SO on board to be in Minkowski's musical. Minkowski gave her only willing participant a minor part. If I could wish one non-Eiffel-centric comedy mini-episode into existence... at one point, my friend suggested a scenario in which Hera tries very, very hard to prove her acting skills to Minkowski under the most inopportune circumstances. ... And Hera was interested to hear Minkowski talk about a play she likes in that one flashback, so. The only thing keeping Hera from being a fellow theater kid was a lack of opportunity. Maybe they could bond over it.)

There's also that scene in Quiet, Please where Minkowski very directly, emphatically defends Hera's autonomy and personhood to Jacobi - and refers to her as a woman, which I think is so... reflective of how much Minkowski has come to understand Hera and what's important to her, and how she wants to be seen. That's a whole other discussion that goes into Hera's self-perception and humanity as it relates to her own identity, but. For a number of reasons, it's important to me.

Anyway. Speaking of things that are important to me. Hera and Eiffel are... Hera and Eiffel. Hera's relationship to Eiffel is the first one she's ever had that comes without hierarchy or conditions; he just... wants to hang out with her, and to get to know her, and to talk to her, because he likes her as a person. She's never had that before, and she is such... a lonely person, a person who has been hurt, who is generally distrustful, who has this distance between her and everyone else, and Eiffel is her anchor to the world. He tries to understand her. He tries to bridge that gap. And even in all of his own missteps, I think just... knowing he cares to try matters so much. I think a lot about how Eiffel is the only one who physically crosses the stage to talk to Hera in the live show; it says... something about the way he sees her, compared to everyone else.

And there's just... the way that they're both... people with a lot of self-doubt, people who have a hard time being kind to themselves, but they're kind to each other, and patient with each other. There's something about recognizing your own flaws in someone you love and treating them with kindness so maybe, over time, you can extend that same compassion to yourself. I want to be the person you believe I am. Going back to that shared experience with RSD, I think it's really valuable for both of them to have someone in their lives who they can really, genuinely believe likes them as they are. Who won't think less of them, no matter what.

I know I can get kind of sentimental about them, but this is what stands out to me. That even when Hera is frustrated or annoyed with Eiffel, when she feels like he doesn't get it, can't understand what she's going through... she still wants him around. And she still talks to him. And, usually... she still feels better, even if the circumstances haven't changed. It's an unbearable situation, but it's a little less unbearable with him there.

(They're also... frequently the only people who can get through to each other/change each other's minds, i.e. Minkowski and Lovelace deferring to Hera to get Eiffel to agree to safety protocols, or Eiffel convincing Hera to vote to go back to Earth - also a totally different topic that would take a long time to get into properly, but he's good at kind of... emotionally counteracting her cynicism and defeatism re: her own perceived fate. In a less serious context, I also love the dynamic where she tells him she's not going to do something and he goes "please??" and she goes. Ughh. Fine. And does it anyway.)

There's just something so special about their relationship, something that makes it different from any other relationship in the show for me. I feel like... Eiffel and Minkowski are both her close friends, but the way Hera thinks about Eiffel in Memoria vs. the way she thinks about Minkowski is... revealing. Everything with Minkowski has a purpose, it's clear why it matters to her. She thinks of Minkowski's faith in her. But with Eiffel, she thinks about... Eiffel talking about Star Wars. Making pop culture references. The thing that saves Hera is her connection to Eiffel and Minkowski - I'll defend that; Maxwell gives her the tools to understand what's going on, but it's Eiffel's and Minkowski's words and associated memories that she holds onto and that ultimately pull her through - and those words are... Minkowski's affirmation. And Eiffel... being Eiffel. I think that says a lot.

(If you’re asking for my opinion on their relationship, you already know I think it’s a romance, but... it’s a romance. I’m not saying it should be canon. I’m saying that that’s the most natural interpretation of what’s already there. You don’t have to change anything. They’re best friends, and they’re found family, and they are so in love, and none of those things are mutually exclusive. The way they talk to each other...)

If there's one point I want to make about all of this, it's that Hera is in a position that makes trusting people potentially very dangerous, and in all of these cases, she is finding ways to build relationships with people despite that. To understand them, and have them understand her, and realizing that the things that make her different don't have to be a death sentence. That she can have a life and find a way forward with people she cares about, who care about her... that's something very important to me.

#wolf 359 #w359 #hera wolf 359 #asks #okay this is the last thing that i've needed to reply to for a long time so. one i'm very sorry and i hope this is coherent #despite the fact it's mostly personal rambling #and two... now i'm free to work on some of the other posts that i've been meaning to finish forever. i have problems.#if you consider him a crew member:#hera's relationship to hilbert is that hlvrai screenshot that's like 'i think it's good that he died!'#thank you to the three people who will take the time to read this. i love you

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bungeenomin · 4 years ago

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THE PLAYERS GAME- XIAOJUN X Y/N SOCIAL MEDIA AU {57}

Neither of you dare speak. Neither of you dare look at each other. It’s been a week since you’ve seen each other, Dejun not showing up to class all week, but today, he’s here. He’s going to present his project, the whole reason you started what you had. What will he say? Will he mention falling out? Will he mention all your happy memories?

Dejun looks a mess, like he hasn’t slept in days. Like he’s not been eating. Like he’s hurt. That hurts to see. Your Dejun like that.

You don’t know how you’re even going to approach him, if you’re even going to approach him. You didn’t want to, but that message has made you reconsider a lot. Will he even want to talk?

“Let’s see” you professor begins, scanning the room to look for the first person to present, “Dejun, you’re up. Come stand at the front and present”

Dejun’s eyes widen, not expecting to be first out of everyone. He nods his head, getting up from his seat and walking to the front, hands fidgeting.

“For this project, i was given a partner i had honestly never spoken to before. At first, i really didn’t want to do this project. It seemed like a lot of effort. But my partner was adamant that i help, which at the time, made me roll my eyes, but today, i couldn’t be more glad” Dejun begins.

“When we first met in that coffee shop, i gave her a hard time. I kept flirting for starters, but i made all sorts of fuss about the project, but no matter what i said, they didn’t give up pushing. She was determined to get me to do the project, which is something i admire about her so much to this day. Her determination. She see’s what she wants and goes for it. I love that. Although i was still being, well, an inconvenience, i found her so pretty. I really, really was shocked at how pretty she is” he smiles softly.

“Honestly, i was still difficult for a few days, but one night when we were talking, she made a comment that kinda hurt me. It was an assumption about me, which she said everyone had about me. Funny because this is what the project is all about, our assumptions of people. I guess hearing that made me want to prove that’s not who i am, that there’s more to me than what’s on the surface”

“So we became friends. We started hanging out all the time and getting to know each other. I started thinking ‘hey, maybe she isn’t half bad?’” Dejun lightly chuckles. “We found out that all our best friends were dating each other, which was honestly really funny”

“As time went on, she became a person that i had to be around. I couldn’t be apart from here, be it meeting up, texting, facetiming, i just had to have her. I found so much comfort in her in such a quick space of time. This never happens. The only other person in my life that i feel completely comfortable with is my best friend Xuxi, and i was practically born with that kid. But my partner, by barely a month in, i felt like i could trust her with almost anything. I felt like i could be me around her, the real me. I could let my walls down”. Dejun briefly looks at you, but looks away in the blink of an eye, continuing.

“I had never been in love before, never. I liked people sure, but i never loved someone. I never would run to someone in the middle of the night to comfort them, or constantly think about our future together, or what we’ll name our pets, or be willing to run to the edge of the earth and back for someone, but then i met her. I fell in love. I met someone who makes me feel whole. Who fills the missing piece of me, who balances me out. I found the person i’ve needed my whole life”

Dejun wipes the corner of his eye, preventing the threatening tear from falling.

“But something went wrong. A stupid grudge that wasn’t buried when it should have been came to life. Something i was completely in the wrong about, and something i have since apologised for. But that was only the cherry on top of the cake. The worst part was she saw a very awkward situation that looked like something it shouldn’t have. You know, it’s funny, when we first started talking, she told me she didn’t hate me, just strongly disliked me. But now, she has told me she hates me, and honestly, i deserve it. I deserve to be hated by her”

“What i learned doing this project, is that your impression on people can change all the time. You can go from strongly disliking someone, to being able to tolerate someone, to loving someone and to hating someone. Although things didn’t work out, i’m always going to be grateful for this project, and i will always cherish the memories i made with my partner, my first love. Thank you”

The Dejun that just presented isn’t the Dejun people on campus see every day. It’s the real Dejun. Your Dejun. The Dejun who expresses his feelings. Who would give an arm and a leg for the people he cares about the most. Who is loving. Who’s lowered his walls.

“Well done, thank you!” your professor smiles, as Dejun returns to his seat, a sad expression on his face.

Your mind is racing at a hundred miles an hour. You just want to cry and hug him. You just want to kiss his soft lips. You just want your Dejun.

A few more people present before you hear what you’ve been dreading. “Y/n, your turn”

You take a deep breath before moving to the front of the class. It’s now or never.

“The person i was paired with, initially, stressed me out. He had the biggest ego, the worst attitude and all he did was flirt. I wished i was paired with someone else” you begin.

“For the first while, he was really annoying. He didn’t want to help at all, he kept getting on my nerves. But before long, he grew on me. He started becoming less irritating, decided he wants to cooperate. We became friends. I really liked it” you smile

“I got to see a different side to this boy. I like to believe i helped him show this other side. The sweet side. The caring side. The real him. He helped me when i needed him. He comforted me. He did everything to make me happy when i was sad. He came to me in the middle of the night, just because he knew i needed him. He showed me his love, how much i mean to him”

“Before i knew it, i fell for him. So fast. I fell in love with him. The boy i couldn’t even think about in a calm manner just a month before. But i felt so free, so happy with him” you fist your hands tightly. You need to keep yourself together.

“But things went wrong. He did something that hurt me, and i heard of something he did to hurt someone close with me. I was so hurt. My heart felt like it was gonna break in half. It completely changed my opinion of him. It made the love be clouded with anger and hurt. But ironically, like this project is for, i made a judgment without knowing what was happening. I judged without giving a chance” you blind back the tears building in your eyes.

“I blamed him for everything. My mind told me everything was a lie. He never loved me. But someone came to me. The cause of the problem. They explained what really happened to me. That it wasn’t his fault, that he told her that he loves me, that i’m the only one for him. I could never hate him. Now, because of my judgement, i feel i’ve lost the person i love. My boy” a stray tear rolls down your cheek, and you let it.

“I want him to meet me at nine tonight, in our spot. If he wants to. This project gave me one of the best things in my life. I’m very appreciative of that. I’m always going to be appreciative of him too. I’m always gonna love him. The real him, not the boy i judged without knowing. Thank you”

By now, several tears fall down your face, but you couldn’t care less. You needed Dejun to hear it. You needed him to know you love him, that nothing could ever make you hate him. You need your Dejun.

——————————————————————

feel free to send me questions/opinions about the au!

main masterlist | previous | next

socialmedia!au xiaojun!au wayv!au nct!au

pairing: xiaojun X y/n

genre: college!au , fluff , angst

warnings: smut, oral, sex

summary: Hockey player!Xiaojun is the biggest player in UCS, both on and off the ice. He has a different girl practically every time you see him. But when y/n has to learn all about the player for a psychology project, will she just be another girl that’s dragged into his game?

taglist: @xiaojunsmintchocci @whoe-dis @yancupidxhyunjin @bvbyxuxi @ngayongabi @kswblueprint @kylomeyon @neocluefor @amymoonl @ta3ilmoon @thatonekpopsweater @captainasianllama @bubudays @glxwingstar @bby-kji9 @simplicitysbabe @skittlez-area512 @crybabybomin @this-is-the-bbc @xiaodejunfair @jeonlovers @junglewoos @absolutefantrash @yoongsicles @ksoolive @ajhdr @mxrcayong @kuntenwinluxiaohenyang @bubblywonu @markistheloveofmylife @llamajuns @queen-of-himbos @doyoungsarabbit @awksmark @notbeforelong @agustdiv1ne @alexameliamg

ask to be added!

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ardett · 3 years ago

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Snakes and Owls

Description: Athena stands, putting a hand beneath Medusa’s chin and raising the mortal’s eyes to meet her own. “I can make sure you are never hurt again. But it will change you forever. Is this what you want?”

“It is,” Medusa breathes. Her hands are not shaking anymore.

Athena nods. A blinding light floods every crevice of the room, of the temple, spilling out into the mortal world.

The strands of Medusa’s hair wind together into the sleek bodies of snakes. Her hair pins become their pointed teeth. Her eyes change from ocean blue to endless gray, the same shade as Athena’s and now imbued with her gift. Her gaze will turn anyone who looks upon her to stone.

And when the light fades, Medusa is reborn.

in which Athena transforms Medusa not for punishment but for power and protection

written for the @greekmythszine !

You can also read this on Ao3!

The first day Athena met Medusa, she knew the mortal would live an exceptional life. Many had said the same but they were all blinded by Medusa’s beauty. They saw her manipulating the wills of men. They saw her marrying into wealth and riches. They saw her power only as an offshoot of her future husband’s.

Athena saw more than that.

Athena saw a woman who had willingly given up her own self-pleasure to serve a higher purpose. She saw a woman who was sought by so many and yet still pledged herself as a virgin priestess of Athena. Many swore themselves to her, but few persevered through the first years when the work was the most monotonous and thankless. Medusa, however, was true to her duties as a priestess despite the advances of visiting men. She always turned her gaze away from them and back to the gilded statue of the goddess.

Athena respected her for that and though a mortal could never compare to her own godly nature, she saw herself in the woman. Medusa had wisdom beyond her youthful years. She constantly looked to the future rather than the mortal distractions that still persisted in her life. She also had a fighting spirit that Athena admired from afar, particularly evident as she turned down yet another boy who thought himself worthy enough to enter her sacred temple.

Unbeknownst to Athena, she wasn’t the only god who’s interest had been piqued by Medusa.

Athena had thought that Poseidon had gracefully acquiesced to her victory in Athens but she should have known. All men, even godly ones, seem to hold grudges against women who upstage them.

While Athena had been occupied on Olympus, Poseidon snuck into her temple in the form of a man and singled out Medusa, perhaps because of Athena’s favor or perhaps only for her beauty. Either way, he fell upon her like a shark devouring a hapless fish.

Athena feels the fire in her temple go out. This is unusual but not a reason to worry. Her priestesses are only mortals after all and though the fire is supposed to remain eternally lit, mistakes had been made before. But as the minutes pass and the hearth is not reignited, Athena feels the first sharp sting of concern.

She appears in the temple. No one is there. The marble hall is hollow and empty. Athena turns to her offering altar but the coals aren’t red and smoldering as if the fire was neglected. The fire has been put out deliberately. The coals have been doused in saltwater.

Then Athena hears the shriek.

She whirls towards the sound and runs down the hall. She throws the door to a back storage room open, brittle wood cracking against the marble wall, but it’s too late. She sees the blood between Medusa’s thighs and she launches a spear at the man on top of her with a guttural scream. Poseidon disappears a moment before it would have pierced his heart, leaving only a dark chuckle in the air and the scent of salt. The spear lodges deep in the stone wall.

Athena’s rage roars inside her. She would have hunted Poseidon to the gates of Atlantis had she not heard Medusa’s rasping sobs. Instead, she moves to Medusa’s side. She has never kneeled for anyone before but for her most loyal priestess, she goes to her knees.

She gently guides Medusa’s head into her lap. The woman is trembling, curled in upon herself. Her clothes have been ripped and stained. Her hair has been knotted by unwanted hands.

“I’m sorry,” Medusa cries. Her tears only make the air smell stronger of salt.

“You have nothing to apologize for. This was not your fault.” Athena runs her fingers through Medusa’s hair in an attempt to calm her. Medusa flinches. Athena immediately takes her hand away.

“But your priestesses must be virgins. And I’m— I’m no longer—”

“Hush. It was not your choice. I would not punish you for this,” Athena soothes.

For many minutes, they sit in silence. There is only the sound of Medusa’s quiet gasps and muffled sobs. Athena aches to grab her spear and shield. War has always come easier to her than comfort but she knows that being here is more important than taking revenge in the mortal’s honor.

Eventually, Medusa murmurs, nails scratching against the stone, “I’m sorry, goddess. I don’t know if I can continue to serve you. I don’t know if I can remain in this place after it has been so tainted for me.” Medusa shudders as she relives the violent memory.

Athena hums. The note is low and sonorous and forgiving. “Feel no guilt, dear priestess. Your life is yours to live as you please. You have my blessing.”

Medusa pushes herself away from Athena and rises to her feet. “And what if I cannot bear to live on?” She begins to pace. Her fingers tangle in her hair. “I cannot live like this. He has claimed my body as his own. My hair, he told me my hair was the most beautiful he’s ever seen.” Her hands come down to claw at her eyes. “He said my eyes reminded him of the sea. Of his sea. Even if I were to cut my hair and blind myself, I would never be free of him. I would only be more helpless. This is a fear I cannot endure.”

Medusa stops, her gaze void of emotion. A tear drips down her cheek as she stares at the spot where her blood still marks the ground. “Goddess, I am lost,” she whispers.

Athena stands, putting a hand beneath Medusa’s chin and raising the mortal’s eyes to meet her own. “I can make sure you are never hurt again.”

Medusa looks up at her, eyes wide and trusting in the face of her goddess. “How?”

Athena’s expression hardens. She begins to glow from within as her true godly nature begins to show through. “Your hair would be your first line of defense. Your eyes would be your greatest weapon. No man will ever dare to touch you. It will be them who tremble in fear,” she swears. “But it will change you forever. Is this what you want?”

“It is,” Medusa breathes. Her hands are not shaking anymore.

Athena nods. A blinding light floods every crevice of the room, of the temple, spilling out into the mortal world.

And when the light fades, Medusa is reborn.

Athena leaves Medusa on the island of Sarpedon. It’s an isolated paradise, far from the reaches of man. She also transformed Medusa’s sisters, Stheno and Euryale, so Medusa would not have to bear her trauma alone.

Athena wants to give her a life of peace but she knows that mortal men can never allow good to thrive without trying to take it for themselves. She bestowed her gifts upon Medusa so the priestess could defend herself with her own strength. She knows Medusa will need them and the help of her sisters.

For many long years, the sisters prosper on their island. The beaches are decorated with stone statues. It’s impossible to remain hidden as stories of disappearing sailors spread but they prove themselves more than capable of handling the threats that wash ashore.

Then King Polydectes of Seriphos demands that Perseus bring him the head of Medusa.

Athena doesn’t like to involve herself in mortal affairs but this time she has no choice. Perseus is a demigod, the son of Zeus, and the king of the gods will not allow him to fail. Zeus demands that Athena give her shield to Perseus and he keeps the goddess under careful watch while Perseus stalks closer to the home of Medusa.

Perseus uses Athena’s polished shield as a mirror so he never looks directly upon Medusa, avoiding her stone gaze. Athena loathes the part she is being made to play. Medusa’s sisters are bathing on the other side of the island. Athena cannot intervene.

Athena is forced to watch as Perseus severs Medusa’s head from her body. It hits the ground with a sickening thud. Medusa’s snakes go limp. They have no one to protect anymore. A tear runs down Athena’s cheek. Her hands tremble with rage. But she cannot act.

Athena doesn’t look away as Perseus plunges Medusa’s head into a bag. Medusa deserves the respect of being seen and remembered as more than a monster. She deserves to be mourned.

Perseus uses Medusa’s head to turn the disgraced King Polydectes and his other enemies to stone. He uses her to slay the great sea monster Cetus, saving the Princess Andromeda and winning himself a wife. Athena wonders if there is no saving mortal women, if their fate is to be eternally used by men in the quest for their own glory.

Finally Perseus calls upon her, burning an offering in her name, and Athena appears before him.

Perseus bows on his knees. “Great goddess Athena, thank you for your patronage. I have come to return your shield and give you the spoils of my victory against the hideous monster.” He produces her shield and the head of Medusa, laying them at her feet.

Athena stares at the blood still draining from Medusa’s neck, staining the floor like all those years ago when she had tried to save her most loyal priestess from having to endure the abuse of men again. Her anger is unspeakable. Is there anything that can remain pure and unharmed in this world? Is there anything sacred?

Her spear begins to materialize. She could kill Perseus with the flick of a wrist. She could avenge Medusa’s memory.

A crack of thunder echoes in the distance. Destiny has other plans for Perseus. Zeus will not allow it. Her spear disappears.

She takes up her shield, cradles Medusa’s head in her arms, and sneers down at the mortal man.

“Never call on me again,” she growls, the threat of war on her tongue. She leaves him on his knees.

Once she is alone, she sets Medusa’s head in her shield. She will carry it with her wherever she goes. There could be no greater honor.

Athena’s work is not yet done. She gathers the blood dripping from the severed head as it traces paths down her shield. Her measured hands separate the blood of the right side of her body from the left. Even in her death, Athena can still give Medusa these gifts.

Athena travels to the apothecary of Asclepius. He’s always been a diligent follower of hers. He visits her temple regularly and has prayed for her guidance many times. When Medusa had vanished, he had asked after her, not in the lustful way of her persistent suitors, but with the genuine concern of a friend. Athena hadn’t forgotten that.

She strolls into his shop in the guise of a young woman dressed as a priestess from her own temple. Asclepius looks up, startling at the sound of his door opening.

“The goddess Athena wished for you to have these.” Athena bares the two vials of blood in her palms. She holds the vial from the right side of Medusa’s body aloft. “This one has properties capable of ending life. The other can raise the dead.” She places them on his counter. Asclepius delicately picks them up, mouth slightly open in shock. “She believes you will use them wisely. Do not disappoint her,” Athena warns.

“I won’t,” Asclepius promises. He holds the vials a little tighter. As Athena starts to leave, he shouts after her, “Wait! Where are these from?”

Athena turns only slightly to answer him. “They are made by the sacrifice of an old friend. Treat them with respect.”

As she walks through the door, Asclepius follows after her, more questions curling on his tongue, but Athena is already gone. In her wake, she leaves only a single owl feather.

Asclepius goes on to become the founder of Greek medicine. Stheno and Euryale, sisters of Medusa, mourn their loss. The island of Sarpedon fades into obscurity. Athena swears herself in the defense of women and continues to give them the strength to fight for themselves. All the while, Medusa is by her side, her image watching over Athena from her shield.

People tell stories of an abused girl who was turned on by a vengeful goddess. They spin legends of a hideous and dangerous monster. They tell the lies that best suit themselves and their version of history but Athena will always honor Medusa’s true memory. It is that of a loyal priestess, that of a tenacious survivor, that of a beloved friend. It is that of a true warrior.

#athena #Medusa #myth retelling #Greek Mythology #thewar

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shima-draws · 4 years ago

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FINALLY NEW OC TIME BABEY

The boy is Emrys, a prince from the Mirrorplane who is on the run from his own kingdom! The girl is Lacie, an orphan who was raised by a guild that rescued her from a somewhat abusive/manipulative friendship as a child!

More (incredibly long) info about these kiddos under the cut~

Emrys (or Em for short)

Age: 23

Hair color: Golden orange

Eye color: Red

Element: Lightning

Emrys is from the Mirrorplane, the parallel world to ATS. His kingdom is caught in a huge power struggle between all the other kingdoms, and Emrys’ mother, a queen who only seeks power from others, is leading them straight into ruin. Emrys is destined to receive the Crest of the Crowned, which is basically a huge emblem of power, as soon as he’s officially crowned as the king. Except that the queen plans to utilize the emblem’s power to start a grand war, which. Is not good!! The night Emrys finds this out, he plans to escape the kingdom along with his childhood best friend Lixin, a regular human who’s basically being used as a pawn to be married off to Emrys’ younger sister in order to create powerful elemental children. Yikes! Emrys is also engaged to a princess from another kingdom, but it’s an arranged marriage, and he doesn’t have feelings for her (so there’s another good reason for him to leave). Lixin is caught during his escape, and Emrys leaps to his rescue, but in the scuffle things get tense and he accidentally kills the guards sent after them. Hands stained with blood, Emrys stumbles into a portal leading to the other side of the Mirrorplane.

Emrys decides that he might as well stay there since he doesn’t know how to get home and he probably shouldn’t go home--he’ll be safer here, and this way his mother can’t use him to start a war. This goes alright for a couple months as he adapts to a world that isn’t constantly fighting with each other, until he realizes that his mother somehow sent people to come look for him and capture him so he can be dragged back home. He also hears word that Lixin is in this world as well. Emrys goes on the run, never sticking around one place for long, and tries to search for Lixin along the way. This is when he meets Lacie!

Personality traits

• Has a hard time trusting people in general. Refuses to get close to people in fear of them getting hurt. Because he's on the run and is a target he tries to keep to himself. A very lone wolf type. Doesn't want other people to get dragged into his problems so he tries to handle everything alone

• Very quiet, observant, INCREDIBLY intelligent--gets really absorbed in books when given the chance. One of the few times his facade falls and he gets Soft and passionate is when he's immersed in reading/studying. Loves absorbing knowledge from this world since it’s different from the Mirrorplane

• Makes scathing remarks often. Doesn't get riled up even when people tempt him. Is able to keep a very cool head most of the time. When he does get angry he gets STUBBORN. Refuses to let people try to talk to him or calm him down. Brushes people off and ignores attempts at support

• You know that he trusts you when he teases you or pokes fun at you

• Very wary. Always keeps an eye out for an escape route

• Careful around people. Knows his strength so he tries not to hurt others

• Deep down tho he's utterly selfless, unbelievably loyal to the people he cares about, and is a truly kind and generous person. He would sacrifice anything, even himself, to keep his friends safe, and beats himself up constantly if one of them gets hurt. Once he learns to open himself up to others he becomes Tender and is able to express himself easier. He's truly a gentle person at heart

• Is awful at romance because he has no experience (even being engaged) and gets flustered easily when it comes to anything with romantic intent. This is like the one thing he has zero confidence in. Lacie usually has to take charge in this department because he’s too hesitant and nervous to figure anything out himself, so he tends to follow her lead, which sometimes leads to disaster but they figure things out one step at a time!

• Was attracted to Lacie immediately but didn’t want to get close to her bc he knew she’d get hurt because of him. WELP

• Develops a huge guilt complex after Lacie loses her arm

Elemental abilities

Lightning elemental: Uses a thin sword/rapier to fight. Is VERY fast and agile. Usually starts by hitting pressure points and jolting them with electricity to numb the nerves. Doesn’t really like using his lightning directly so he tries to stick to the rapier as often as possible

He’s not a huge fan of fighting so he’d rather avoid conflict if necessary (especially after he killed someone on accident before). However he should not be underestimated in battle--he’s been trained how to fight from a young age so he knows what he’s doing. He uses a lot of tactics and smarts to get himself out of sticky situations

Lacie

Age: 21

Hair color: Gray/silver

Eye color: Brown

Element: Metal

Lacie’s parents died when she was very young, so she was sent to an orphanage shortly after. Her parents were bandits, labeled as outlaws, so a lot of the kids teased her and ostracized her. This caused her to hold a grudge against both them and her parents, even though they’d only resorted to thievery to provide for her and themselves. There was, however, one person who reached out to her there--an older girl named Gwendolyn. Gwen was very standoffish and didn’t care what the other children thought of her. She was the first person to treat Lacie normally, so Lacie grew attached to her. However, Gwen used Lacie and treated her as a tool to do what she wanted, but Lacie, too terrified of losing the only ‘friend’ she had, never spoke up about it. Gwen did care about Lacie, and there was a genuine friendship there, but that was overshadowed of her tendency to manipulate Lacie.

Gwen eventually hatched a plan to escape the orphanage and strike out on their own. Lacie agreed and together they snuck out in the middle of the night. (Sounds familiar? Wow, parallels!) The next day, Gwen tried to steal from a person in town, which ended up being a member of the guild nearby. Gwen managed to get to Lacie before getting caught and shoved the stolen items onto her, making her a target. Lacie realized how awful this was and finally gathered the courage to yell at Gwen. The guild member caught up, saw their interaction, and took Gwen in for questioning. He escorted Lacie to the guild, where she was pretty much adopted by the members.

Lacie grew up with the guild and learned compassion and how to forgive her parents. As an adult she’s a very kind, friendly and confident person. She is still burdened by her past but she tries not to let it get to her.

Personality traits

• Not the most polite person since she doesn't really have a filter

• VERY curious. Somewhat naive. Asks a lot of bugging questions if she doesn't know something

• Hot-headed and stubborn. Gets riled up easily, but can control herself when she's angry. Argues a lot but isn't fond of it

• In reality, a very kind person who cares for her friends and would do anything to protect her family. Spirited and determined

• Can be kind of silly, especially when she's trying to cheer others up. Emrys finds her amusing and calls her a dork

• A leader type character...one that can take charge of the situation when everybody else is losing their heads

• Willing to step out of her comfort zone and dive into new adventures without hesitation. She lives for the thrill. Is spontaneous and willing to take risks/chances. Drags Emrys into her fun a lot bc he’s so sheltered as a prince lmao

• Self confident on the outside, insecure in reality (a lot of this comes from the emotional abuse she went through as a kid). But not enough that it's crushing--just enough to make her second guess things sometimes, ESPECIALLY when it comes to Emrys because he's a rubix cube of emotions and she's always afraid of overstepping her boundaries--this is only when she finds out more about him tho. She doesn't mind being an ass to him when they first met because he’s kind of a jerk so her first instinct is to lash out at him

• Isn't necessarily a rule breaker until it's brought up, and then she gets excited about doing daring things. Is almost too enthusiastic about it sometimes

Elemental abilities

Metal elemental: Uses throwing knives infused with magic to fight. Being a metal elemental, she’s able to control their trajectory and can toss them around and have them zip right back to her like boomerangs. She mostly uses these to unbalance enemies and strike them hard enough that they get too dizzy to stand. After she loses her arm, she also utilizes the metal it’s made out of to temporarily transform it into usable weapons.

She’s fine with fighting and is hasty enough to throw herself into battle without thinking, but is fine with peace talks most of the time.

AND NOW onto how these two cuties meet ;)

If it weren’t obvious by now Emrys is a loner and therefore hates guilds and being associated with them. So naturally, after running into Lacie, he treats her with a lot of attitude and snark, which she retaliates against. After Lacie helps him chase off a couple thugs that he stole stolen goods back from (not the people actually chasing him), she somehow coerces him into the guild for a couple days, and he’s unsettled yet warmed by the friendly atmosphere. Emrys eventually admits he has to stick around town for a while to make some money, so Lacie offers to help him out by going out on official guild missions. Emrys is like I don’t need or want your help and she’s like alright fine then try making money on your own, guild missions pay WAY better and you can’t do one without an official member escort. So he’s like. Jesus fine okay I’ll go on the damn mission with you LOL

They go on a couple missions together and start getting close. Emrys is like oh no this is not what I want so he panics and tries to leave town, but Lacie catches up to him and yells him for leaving without saying anything. Unfortunately during this whole mess the trackers sent to follow Emrys find out where he’s hiding. He and Lacie go out on one last goodbye mission together and they get ambushed. They’re horribly outnumbered and even when Emrys resorts to actually fighting his hardest, Lacie gets terribly injured. Emrys manages to fight off the attackers, getting his hair cut off shorter in the process (which is why it’s shorter and in a cute little half bun in the second pic), but Lacie’s losing so much blood at this point--so he stumbles into the closest building in the closest town and GUESS WHO’S IT IS.

YEAH. IT’S THE ROBO FAM!! (Take note that this is like, 2-3 years after they return from the Mirrorplane themselves, so they’re around 25 at this point.)

Elias and Gifre are enjoying a nice evening prosthetic check date when Emrys stumbles into the mechanic shop, covered in Lacie’s blood, and begs for help before passing out. Both of them go OH SHIT and immediately leap to the rescue. As Elias, Gi-bot, Ava and Ignis (who were called in) work on patching up Lacie’s wounds, Elias realizes that her arm is too far gone to be saved. And this is kind of a sad moment for him since you know. He also lost his arm. So he can relate. Ava’s like you’ll just have to make her the best goddamn prosthetic in the world then and he’s like alright yeah, so they have to remove Lacie’s left arm and it’s. Not pretty.

Emrys wakes up several hours later to find that Gifre treated his wounds. When he asks where Lacie is and Gifre shows him, he immediately breaks down, because she got hurt SO badly because of him and this is why he didn’t want to get close to her in the first place. He laments over dragging her into his mess, and Gifre gives him a nice long Pep Talk, coming from a similar situation with dragging Elias into his personal issues with Python’s Blood. It helps a little, but Gifre can tell Em’s gonna be blaming himself for this for a WHILE (hence the guilt complex comment).

As Lacie recovers and gets used to her new prosthetic (and keeps smacking Emrys whenever he looks guilty about it), the two of them become closer despite Emrys’ attempts not to--but Lacie is stubborn and refuses to let him distance himself. They also get really close and bond a lot with the robo fam, having bunked with them for a while. The main part of the story is just these domesticity moments with the robo fam and their two new dysfunctional houseguests LOL

Eventually Emrys does find Lixin and decides to return to the Mirrorplane to sort things out with his mother, and that brings up a whole bunch of crazy drama, but the robo fam and Lacie come with him (and by that point he’s gone Full Tender and leans on them a lot for support so it’s NICE and CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT), so things get sorted out one way or another. There is a point where he and Lacie have a huge fight because Lacie...finds out something about the Mirrorplane that she does not like, and it nearly shatters her entire relationship with Em, so that’s a big oof. But they get it all sorted out and it’s fine. The reason why their fight hurts even worse is because at this point they’re full on in love with each other but are both too awful at romance to actually say anything. They’re stupid and they can’t communicate and I love them

Yes they end up together because *points at self* I’m a hopeless romantic loser. Lacie becomes a princess of the Mirrorplane which is WEIRD as hell to her but she gets used to it. Also they actually don’t stay there, Emrys hands the kingdom over to his younger sister, who’s always been better at handling royal affairs, and comes back to the regular verse with Lacie to live with her there. They get a house in Spinel Town near the robo fam and LIVE HAPPILY EVER AFTER THE END

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marvus-xoloto · 4 years ago

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💋🌺👧( instead of sibling, the other jades?) for Lanque?

Anonymous said: for lanque? 🔗 👧 (but like, cloistermates) 🍟

Lanque time 😎 under a cut for length! thanks for your patience!!!

💋 - How does Lanque feel about people who cheat? Does he see a reason for it, or is it completely immoral?

Outwardly, Lanque pulls the “that’s just how it is on this bitch of an earth.” He’s not going to stop them or say anything, but he will snitch ASAP because he wants that quid pro quo, hurt for hurt. He definitely does not think it’s okay, and he definitely loses respect towards a person who can’t be devoted and honest in a committed relationship. For all that he may shirk his duties and responsibilities as a jade, you don’t live a lifestyle like that and not want to have something similar to the dedication that you give to a system you may not even believe in.

More personally, I think Lanque is jaded (no pun intended) enough to believe that people are inherently good. Does he think cheating is justified? No, but he knows it happens and he wouldn’t be surprised if it happened to him, either. Though he sees no real reason to cheat, he is not so idealistic to not expect it. He personally would never consider the idea in his own committed relationships, few and far between as those are. Making someone jealous with a little flirting, however, is fair game. Cheating to Lanque is more an emotional thing than a physical thing.

___

🌺 - Does Lanque have a favorite flower? Why does he like it?

OKAY so deep headcanon time. I associate rainbow drinkers with victorian era stories of vampires (it’s about the repressed se//xuality, sensuaIity, and longing), and because of this I think there is a lot of flower language and symbolism that dedicated fans like to devote themselves to.

Lanque is a dedicated fan; his rp sessions are well researched. He knows the flower language.

BUT he also has to like the shape of the flower itself. So, his favorite flowers are: gardenias (the white petals to remind you of his white lapels; the meaning is “secret love), wild roses (outward appearance of traditional romance, the meaning is “pleasure and pain”), calla lillies (the yonic suggestiveness of the deep color surrounded by white is well known and well documented in purple prose throughout rainbow drinker livechurnal rpers, the meaning is simply “beauty), and amaryllis (an ostentatious flower for “pride”).

___

👧 - What is Lanque’s relationship like with his siblings cloistermates? Who does he get along with best?

In order of most well liked to least well liked:

Wanshi: The truth comes out: Lanque gets along children. There’s a small spark of hope he feels when he sees innocence and genuine, childlike happiness; he wants her to feel that for as long as possible, but at the same time he feels both resentment and resignation. She won’t keep that innocence long, and he’s jealous that she gets to feel it at all. Still, they have fun together. Wanshi is good at bringing out the storyteller in Lanque, and Lanque likes that she’s an accidental shit starter (not her fault the jades are all so wound tight).

Daraya: he truly sees her as a younger version of himself, like a little sister. There’s a secret desire there to make her the best version of what he’s trying to be, since he believes he can help her prevent making the same mistakes he has. They genuinely have fun griping and complaining and slacking off together. Just because they get along, though, doesn’t mean they don’t butt heads. Lanque thinks she tries too hard to be apathetic; Daraya thinks Lanque can be pushy and too eager to jump into risky behavior. Lanque thinks Daraya is impulsive; Daraya thinks the same of him. Daraya thinks Lanque tries too hard and goes to far to prove his points; Lanque thinks Daraya has no points to prove.

Bronya: Feels some grudging respect towards her, but yearns for the person she could have been. Lanque will never get along with people who he perceives (or people who perceive themselves) as authority figures. I have too many feelings to articulate in words about their relationship; I tried to capture it in my fic “Self (ish)” but idk if I was successful. I’ll make another post about it when I can organize my thoughts better.

Karako: His “annoying” younger brother; really, he’s jealous that Bronya lets Karako get away with so much shit that the jades would get reamed for. But Karako is a good listener, and they occasionally have fun exploring the caverns together. Lanque finds Karako’s curiosity endearing, despite everything. Still, the caste divide does drive a wedge between them. Lanque refuses to acknowledge and struggles on Karako’s part because Lanque views the cloistered jade struggle as the worst there is.

Lynera: Bad boy, meet snitch. Need I say more? They hate each other and I genuinely do not believe either will ever miss the other.

___

🔗 - What are Lanque’s standards for meaningful relationships? How quickly does he form relationships like these?

Please forgive me for bullet points! I’m having a hard time organizing these points for whatever reason.

-There has to be devotion and dedication. He needs to feel wanted and pursued.

-Hates to feel pitied; it’s easier for him to swallow anger. If he can see your anger towards the system instead of waxing poetic about how he ~*suffers*~, he is more likely to trust you and assume that you’d be willing to help him. It’s the difference between kindness and niceness for him; if your car broke down on the side of the road, apologizing for the break down doesn’t do shit without a jack and a wrench. Lanque has no need for niceties in his life, but genuine kindness goes a long way for him, especially if it isn’t sugar coated.

-Needs to feel a deep emotional connection with someone. Lanque secretly judges his meaningful relationships on how much hurt they could bring him: the idea of losing them, the idea of being without. If it hurts, he knows his feelings are real. He doesn’t latch onto people easily.

-As for how quickly, it’s a long process. He needs time to accept his feelings, first, and he will put you through the gauntlet before committing. It’s a little “if you can’t handle me at my Worst, you don’t deserVe me at my best 💅💅 “ but it’s also a little bit of fear, too. As stated above, he judges his feelings based on how much it would hurt to lose you. If he’s putting you through the gauntlet, he can convince himself it wasn’t meant to be if you leave.

___

🍟 - How does Lanque feel about his body? Would he change it if they could?

He’s hot and he knows it. He has changed it! He had top surgery at around 8 sweeps. But he doesn’t feel the need to change anything else about his body.

Ask game found here!

#hiveswap #lanque #lanque bombyx #asks #not me projecting onto lanque for the millionth time

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mc-critical · 3 years ago

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What do you think about the relationship between SS and his father? In all the times it is mentioned, it seems that he still fears him and holds a grudge for trying to kill him, but what happens after Mustafa's execution, it is not clear to me if in his mind he made peace with him

The relationship between Süleiman and Yavuz Selim was clearly very turbulent from the start. When Selim was mentioned and appeared on the horizon, he indeed was always portrayed as this ruthless and even equally paranoid guy who would do anything to keep his power. And this paranoia of his kept on even when SS was the only heir left. We don't know much of his canon characterization outside of what people that knew him have said about him and a few flashbacks, but I do headcanon that he went on campaigns a whole lot and that he cared about the state, his own state much more than any other personal attachments he could've had. That's why he may not have gotten that close to his only son, too (SS spending most of his time in a sanjack could've also contributed to this) and since similarly to SS, his paranoia and self-righteousness hardened him to the point where there was no turning back anymore and that more or less became who you are, you look at yourself as a figure of a ruthless padişah, not so much as a human being, Selim would be capable of the most drastic measures against whoever he felt betray him in some way. It's no wonder Hafsa kept SS as far away from his suspicion as possible, because Selim is characterized by everyone by being ruthless and cruel and that means he can be pretty unpredictable, as well, judging by the situation with the kaftan. He is a guy that his family - his wife (in the show apparently), his daughters and his only son! - is afraid of.

Given the circumstances, it's pretty explainable to me why SS is afraid of him, as well, and is probably the one who is the most afraid of him deep down, but wouldn't admit it so openly, of course, only in self reflection. SS has apparently grown distant to his own father and perhaps they haven't even met so much. The flashback in E55 gave us a glimpse of how their relationship could've been - a pretty familiar sword fight and words about innocence that establish that Selim has also seen the danger in SS from pretty early on. It's as if SS has always been a suspect from day one. However, outside of that flashback, SS defines Selim by two major deeds - the whole ordeal with Selim's own father and the poisoned kaftan. Since again, SS spent most of his time in a sanjack and he didn't have the chance (Hafsa could've talked him out of it) or simply didn't want to let out his anger on his father for this event, deep resentment would overtake SS more and more throughout the years, because it's a vivid, impactful image and a strong, negative emotion one wouldn't forget so easily when your own father is the one who wants your death. This precise event is the one most telling of Selim's cruelty and ruthlessness in the show and that's what SS associates him with - cruelty and ruthlessness. But there the fear comes in, most of all, because of the similar position: one day SS would have to go in his footsteps, one day he would have to take on his role. SS is also a padişah and what if he also becomes like Selim? What if he also sends a poisoned kaftan to his son? (he asked Allah not to let him do that in one episode) What if he becomes as cruel, what if his reign also turns into a bloodshed? This fear of his is so strong and deep-seated that the further SS goes on with his growing Ego and paranoia, the more this fear ends up overtaking him and makes what he has still strived to avoid become part of him he lives by and a mold he would always follow, for he is the padişah and he, just like his father, wouldn't stand betrayal or what he perceives as betrayal, because he has become so used to living with this fear that amplified his Ego and paranoia even more that he writes off his deeds as absolutely necessary when he only screwed up big time.

This fear has turned into SS's ultimate justification, for Yavuz Selim was presented as his Azraeel two episodes before he did one of the wrongest deeds in his life. Here's the place for me to say that SS would have only benefited more as a character and gained much more sympathy from me, if precisely his backstory with his father was more explored beyond what we got. What we got was too scarse to justify his (let's face it) mostly out-of-context event-based paranoia to the point it became like this is used as SS's own justification without him truly realizing it, not a justification the audience got, because the show didn't want to justify neither Ibrahim's (maybe aside from E82 itself), nor Mustafa's execution. We could see the factors, yes, but justify the executions? No, especially when they both were presented as wrong when it came to the state itself through the tragic themes. And that's the thing: SS eventually put his Ego of a padişah and warped beliefs of what has to be done over his own early established principles and the state itself. That's also why SS's motivation rings hollow due to this minimal information and I think that SS not only became like his father, he even exceeded him. The stability of the state still played a part in the only other established event of Yavuz Selim SS eventually leaned on in E97 and shown with an actual flashback in E122 and his intentions didn't seem to have changed, since he was praised for his ruling and conquests. No matter how ruthless he was, we're led to believe he still was a decent ruler. That changes with SS. He begins putting Selim's way of thinking and courses of action in his own ways of thinking and ends up twisting them even further, if only for the deeper exploration and character arc we got with him.

Süleiman gives in to Selim's ways of thinking pretty early actually: he's used to being suspected and he quickly becomes accustomed to his own role to the point his decisions could hurt his family and could be pretty similar to his own father's. The paranoia of betrayal and dethroning appeared much faster than even he could imagine, since once he saw Mustafa grow up more and more, yes, he had very mixed feelings when he saw him again in E46 and he showed pride in him then still, but he also saw the danger more and more and recited the exact same words his father had once said to him himself. It's no wonder that E55's flashback and the aforementioned scene were parallels to each other: it's like Selim had said these words to SS in a fairly early stage of their relationship and here the cycle repeats with Mustafa and the signs of SS becoming like Selim, something he would never principally want to, are already there, not to mention Hafsa's warnings even before that. (because I wouldn't be surprised if she knew Selim better than SS did - she has spent quite some time with him as his wife and she was the one who immediately sensed danger in the kaftan situation, yes, a mother's survival instinct plays here, too, but Hafsa isn't a person who would be suspicious without any reason whatsoever, even at her worst) By then and by E123, SS had already shown the ruthlessness Selim demonstrated and the more we went, the more SS fell into despair for all his actions, the worse he ended up being, ceasing to realize the effects of what he has done. (like his intervention or lack thereof in the culmination of Selim and Bayezid's conflict) For SS it's way beyond a matter of self-righteousness, but a matter of conscience he had stopped listening to, a conscience he previously said that would define his reign. That fear of his father made him go in lengths he wouldn't imagine him going and for all the perceived attempts to avoid it throughout the show (like him not sending a poisoned kaftan to Mustafa and telling him that he wouldn't ever dare such execution), he ended up caving to them more and more and taking his own spin on Selim's mindset. SS took his role as a padişah much more dearly and that allowed him to delve deeper into his paranoia, into what he has to do for the sake of solely continuing to rule. Perhaps that survival instinct present during Selim's reign never left and evolved into something else. (we don't know the full extent of Selim's cruelty, which is honestly merely covered in hints, but we do know the full extent of SS's, which gives us even more of a possibility for SS to have "evolved" past it.)

Did Süleiman make peace with his father? It never became clear in the show, but I doubt that happened, at least not before he died. It's the fear of becoming Selim Yavuz that ruined SS's whole life in one way or another and his conscience always spoke to him left and right, no matter how willing he was to listen or not. I see SS becoming even more resentful of his father's ways when he committed his worst crimes. And even in his last days, he was more adamant to prove to people that he himself was still a capable ruler by going to a campaign, risking his own life and health for the sake of proving a point than thinking about how far has he come when it came to what he did as a padişah and how did that tie into the ways of his father. He certainly became more accepting of his mold over the years, but not in the way that would make peace with him, but rather as something that has to be done for the sake of your role. Until he died, SS probably still heavily disliked his father as a person and the best he could do at that point is not think about him. He would never justify or make peace with Selim Yavuz's deeds, not even in front of himself, despite of him doing the exact same. Süleiman makes a distinction between his thinking and that of his father, despite of even his own self telling him otherwise deep down. He wants to make that distinction, so why would there be a reason for SS to make peace with him back then? There would be no reason in his eyes.

Now, when he died, it's up for interpretation. Maybe he could've made peace with his father or at least convinced himself of that in his afterlife, since in his last monologue he did say that he takes only love and friendship with him and that would mean no negative feeling left, right? But the monologue itself is very up for interpretation, too, because.. what does that mean? How did this sudden turnaround happen? Did SS realize what he had done was wrong? Was he ready to accept that? Was he truly ready to get out of his role he has been used to since forever and live another life that consisted of only love and friendship? Then what about the imagery of this scene that showed him going to another throne instead after all? Yes, maybe the love and friendship were the true throne he went to with the Sultanate coming to an end, but couldn't that be more him only fully coming to terms that he'll come back to where he came from, where every person on the earth came from (that is, the ground)? Because he could start over anyway, but still not forget what happened in his life, paralleled with his first monologue ever in the first episode, where he said that he doesn't forget? There is so much to speculate here.

#magnificent century #muhteşem yüzyıl #muhtesem yuzyil #sultan suleiman #selim yavuz #ask #Isbluesr #i delved deeper into SS's arc overall along with his relationship with his father #but oh well

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youngster-monster · 4 years ago

Text

shallow grave

Archmage Kael’thas Sunstrider comes back home to a kingdom in ruin, a city in flames, and a father whose body has not yet finished cooling on the cold dry earth. The sky is choked with smoke and ashes; the streets run red with blood. His people need him — his people need better than him — and if he’s all that they have, then he’ll have to be enough.

He allows himself a day and a night to grieve, to bury his father and water his grave with his tears. Then, in the hours before dawn breaks on that second day, while his people do the same — while they bury their dead and mourn all that they’ve lost — Kael’thas lays down his grief and goes to the Sunwell.

The font of magic, like its city, like its people, was broken and tainted at the hand of the Scourge. The air echoes with a sound like the distant howling wind, but it sits heavy and still around him. Once it rang like a struck chord with the arcane energy swirling within.

This, nearly more than the bodies still lying in the streets, tells Kael’thas that they are dying.

His people need magic to thrive. They need magic to survive. Arthas has cleaved through the city to reach the heart of their power, but it’s no surprise that he wouldn’t bother to destroy them the way he has destroyed Lordaeron. What is left of them, without the Sunwell? What more does he need to do than sit and wait for them to succumb to the hunger that Kael’thas can already feel clawing at his heart?

Their survival isn’t a given anymore. It’s a question.

And what remains of the Sunwell offers an answer.

It is alive, Kael’thas finds, though he’s always expected that much. It is alive enough to be in pain, as its body is the sin’dorei’s body and their suffering is its suffering. Soon, it will die, and there will be nothing left to soothe the pain of their people.

But in these last moments, the Sunwell does not look for a way to ease its own anguish. It doesn’t fear its own end; for really what end can there be, for the mindless soul of a people, that shall live as long as they live and die alongside them? But it fears that they might never be avenged. They have been baptized anew in blood; now it would have them drown their enemies in it.

Magic, like its practitioners, holds grudges. It is a language of debt, spoken only through what you draw from it and what it takes from you. And there’s nothing quite so daunting as a debt never paid back in full.

Kael’thas hears this — the rage, wordless and unending, of a being that only exists as an instrument to a people’s collective will. Something in him answers.

This anger that finds its echo inside of Kael’thas is a pyre, he thinks, and it shall consume him if he lets it.

(His name means phoenix, in their language. He can no more fear the flames than the Sunwell can fear death. It is not in his nature.)

Prince Kael’thas Sunstrider walks into the throneroom changed, though the people gathered would be hard-pressed to say how. Perhaps it is in his eyes, the barely noticeable flicker in their golden light.

The Sunwell is gone. Long live the Sun Prince.

Still, no one speaks of it. They may not know what has transpired, but there is an instinctual recognition of the Sunwell buried deep in them. Like a compass points true to the north, they recognize this magic without knowing it.

He can feel it as well, like another heart within himself. The pulse, alien as it is, chills and comforts him in equal measure. He is both more and less than what he was before stepping into the Sunwell. Maybe he isn’t even the same person at all; something different, rather than exalted or diminished by the change.

“We will march in a week’s time,” he tells the new Ranger-General, Lor’themar Theron.

The man looks weary. The mantle is heavy on his shoulders, for all that he wears it well. Already he looks Kael’thas in the eyes when he speaks, and refuses to flinch at what he sees there.

“With what army, my lord? Over half our forces are dead; those who still live are exhausted, or stationed too far from the city to reach us before we depart.”

“You worry about the living, Lor’themar, and I will worry about the dead.”

The Sunwell was tainted by the Scourge when it sunk into Kael’thas; he can feel that as well. But Kael’thas is not a Well of magic that feeds an entire kingdom.

He is but a man, and a man may be touched by necromancy and survive in a way a Well cannot.

A man can be a necromancer.

And Kael’thas intends to be one. He intends to be the best necromancer there ever was, actually, because when has he ever settled for anything less?

When he walks through the streets, people hush and step aside. They see that he is grieving, and the world knows what happens when the Sunstriders grieve.

Dath’Remar founded a kingdom over this grief — for a time past, for magic that he could not bear to be parted from. Kael’thas has lost so much more; his retribution will match the scale of his grief.

He walks until the ground underneath his feet has gone black with ashes and graveyard dirt; until the stench of rot chokes him; until he can walk no more for all the bodies still not buried, and the few still walking that threaten to take notice of him. They could tear through him in seconds, alone as he is, still strong from their master’s passage.

That’s fine. He won’t be alone for long.

He knows his people by the shape of the space left empty by their absence. The awareness is unnatural — no, not unnatural. It’s foreign to him; not meant for a body like his own. Not meant to be embodied at all. It’s like an itch under his skin, a calling that he can’t quite hear.

When he reaches for it, something reaches back.

It feels rather like fire, where he would have expected ice. It stands to reason that his magic would not suffer the cold, no matter how necromantic the source. If anyone were to raise the dead with the very fire that would see them cremated, likely as not it would be him.

The flames race across the ground, seeking their brethren: the fires that used to burn in the heart of dead sin’dorei. Once found, the embers are rekindled by the deadfire; light blazes in empty eyes, and what few bodies were left behind by Arthas rise to their feet. Fire can be seen through the gaps in flesh, beneath exposed ribs, like a coal engine fueling the precious machine of their reanimated body.

The ghouls shy away from them, hissing at the light they cast. The burning dead pays them no mind, if they have any mind left to pay; they gather themselves into neat ranks to be inspected.

Kael’thas expected it to take more energy, but even the shattered remains of the Sunwell are more magic than any one man should hold; he doesn’t even feel winded. He steps up to one of the risen bodies. A civilian, he thinks; most of them must be, to have been discarded by Arthas. She looks up at him and he sees nothing in her eyes but a reflection of his own resolve.

These he will walk out of the city, to be buried with dignity. They didn’t live a life of battle, and he finds himself reluctant to give them such a restless death. Without the instinctual knowledge of weapons carrying over from their life, he’s not even sure he could make them fight.

But after— he’ll have to find motivated graverobbers, he thinks, and appeal to the noble houses of Silvermoon for authorizations to desecrate family crypts. There are many soldiers buried in the city, and he intends to make use of them all.

Again bodies walk through the streets of Silvermoon, though this time the prince that leads them trails embers in his wake rather than frost. It’s a testament to their grief that few bother to curse him for it; once he’s laid the bodies outside of the city, away from the ghouls that would devour them before they can be buried, his people come to him with questions on their lips but little blame.

Though it might be because they are too shocked for outrage to take root.

“How?” Lor’themar asks, helpless, as they watch the last of the dead lay down at the end of a row of their kind and go back to their eternal sleep.

“It is my duty to keep this kingdom safe,” he replies, which is not much of an answer at all. “And, this failing, to see it avenged.”

It doesn’t feel wrong, that playing with the natural order of things, though he expects Arthas had a remarkably similar train of thought before laying waste to the city of his birth. It feels as natural as all other magic Kael’thas has ever wielded. It will take care to keep it from getting out of hand; this is the kind of power that corrupts absolutely.

Unlike Arthas, this magic does not come from a place of corruption; it is born of the sin’dorei and for them, and draws its power from the seven thousand years of memories and magic that made up the Sunwell. As long as he holds on to that impulse of protection rather than destruction, he thinks he can make it.

Maybe that’s why it doesn’t feel any different than other spells. Because it fits him, that burning desire to keep what belongs to him safe, to the point that he’d bend the laws of nature to do it. Maybe it wasn’t so much a transformation as an evolution; a rebirth into something not so much changed as made better suited to its task.

“You’re different,” Rommath notes nonetheless, though it doesn’t sound accusing.

In the absence of the Convocation of Silvermoon, Kael’thas brought his demand for bodies directly to the noble houses. Most have agreed, animated by the same desire to see their enemies brought down, never to hurt them again, no matter the cost. He’s making rounds through their cemeteries now, watching every undertaker in the city and any abled person willing to take up a shovel digging up caskets and carrying shrouded bodies to the outskirts of Silvermoon where their troops are gathering. They’ll have to be quick. Work with corpses requires speed as hygiene can hardly be guaranteed.

It’s lucky that they’ve somewhat lost the tradition to cremate their dead. Many still do; and they are safe from his sacrilege now, though all sin’dorei soldiers are sworn to protect the kingdom any way they might, in life and beyond. Commoners have been coming to offer their own dead to his cause. He would not ask that of his subjects; but they understand the need for desperate measures.

What good is a full grave to the living?

“Am I really?” He asks idly, crossing names off his list. The Brightwalker crypt has been emptied already; their matriarch watches over the process herself, red-eyed but strong in the face of her youngest son’s body being brought out and covered by a veil for transport. “Besides the obvious.”

Rommath tilts his head, considering this. “Not by much, I suppose.”

“Is it a good difference?”

“That, only time will tell. But it’s a necessary one; that much I believe.”

Of course Rommath would understand. They are, in the end, creatures of pride, and pride begets duty. Good has nothing to do with it.

They march out of Silvermoon with a force diminished from the invasion of Quel’thalas — but still thousands strong, and twice what they might have been able to gather if not for Kael’thas’ foray into graverobbing. Grave-borrowing? He’s regent, now, would be king if he had bothered to get crowned. He has a right to conscript a few bodies, he thinks, if he promises to give them back after.

Arthas leaves a clear trail to follow, and they do. The dead can march forever, if need be; the living are not so impervious to fatigue, but desperation pushes them forward nearly as efficiently as Kael’thas’ magical control would.

He rides at the front, half a mind on the control of the army of undead at his back and the other half on the army of undead they’re marching towards.

They plan to cut Arthas’ path in Northrend; they meet the Forsaken on their way north, which is a surprise for both parties.

An arrow nearly takes Kael’thas’ head clean off his shoulders. It combusts in flight and disintegrates to ashes before reaching him, caught by a mage more attentive than he is. The next volley meets the same fate, and is quickly followed by the soldiers shifting formation — Lor’themar’s cry of protect the prince answered by hundreds of clanking armor.

Looking up, Kael’thas sees them coming from the trees like wraiths; dark figures, alight with death magic, but walking with a confidence that the shambling masses that Arthas controls simply lack. He holds his counter-attack, for now, though their approach makes his entire body shake with a kind of aimless bloodthirst. The Sunwell remembers what has hurt it; it does not forget hate nor fear easily.

When it becomes clear that the undead will neither attack nor come forward, Kael’thas rides out of the protective circle of his men, heedless of Lor’themar’s complaints. He recognizes Sylvanas soon enough. She’s a difficult woman to forget, even looking for all the world like she’s just clawed out of her grave.

“Ranger-General Windrunner,” he greets, as pleasantly as he can muster. He’s had a hard time sounding pleasant, lately. “I’m afraid I’ve given away your job.”

Her glare is a fierce thing, and her hand flexes around her bow like she’s considering striking him down anyway. “Prince Kael’thas. You’re alive.”

“No need to sound so disappointed.”

Ignoring him, she casts a look at the troops at his back. He can imagine what she sees: the strange glow of the reanimated soldiers, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with the living in an uneasy, desperate show of force.

“Your soldiers are not.”

“Indeed they aren’t.”

Her sharp eyes come back to him, assessing. “Have you gone and pledged yourself to the Scourge, then, since you could not beat it?”

Her tone suggests he would not leave this place alive, if that were the case. But her assumption is only met with a flash of rage; Kael’thas’ grip over his reins goes white-knuckled, and he has to breathe shallowly through his nose before he speaks again.

“I would have Arthas dead by my hand, if I can; the Sunwell concurred, and gave me the means to achieve this goal.”

It is a remarkably reserved way to summarize events. Yet Sylvanas looks as if he had struck her, eyes widening as she takes in the force behind him once again, quickly.

“Ana’band tur, anu dor’ishura belore.” You speak, and we should hear the sun. Once a ritual phrase meant to show respect to the king or queen of Quel’thalas; now a literal truth.

He tilts his head to the side in acknowledgement. “So it is.”

As expected from the fierce ranger, she takes that information with suspicion rather than relief. She squares her shoulders and asks, walking the fine line between curiosity and suspicion, “What makes you different from the Scourge?”

“I do not claim to resurrect anyone.” At her disbelief, he gestures at the army at his back. The corpses are still in a way the Scourge, ever shifting like one giant creature of hunger, could never manage. “They are all animated, by magic and the lingering will of their soul to protect their land — puppets rather than slaves, I suppose.”

When one lives hundreds of years, their soul leaves an imprint on the body that is hardly scrubbed by death. Even when only skeletons remain of the people they once were, the bones remember what it was to love Quel’thalas — and to die for it. They are ready to do it again, if they must.

Sylvanas observes him silently. Gauging him, though what she hopes or expects to find here he doesn’t know.

“Will you join us?” he asks, once it becomes clear she will not speak again.

“We have taken Lordaeron for our own — as free, independent people. I cannot fight your war, prince.”

Death changes them all, no matter which side of it they are on. If she considers herself more undead than she is elven, then so be it.

“Then will you fight with us?”

Sylvanas Windrunner has never turned down a fight. Especially not against the Scourge.

Northrend is a cold, barren place, but Kael’thas’ army burns bright as if it is carrying its own sunlight, stowed away in the gaps between their bones. It keeps them warm when the howling blizzard would tear the flesh right off their skeleton.

It is only a worry for those of them who still have flesh to lose, which is a majority by not quite as much of a comfortable margin as they may like.

Kael’thas makes them march on until they can’t take another step, and then a few miles more, until the snow and the storm-grey sky have become one uninterrupted expense of darkness and they have no choice but to put up tents and fires. His men suffer through because they, too, can feel the end coming. They are running out of time. Soon fate will decide whether Arthas lives or dies, and Kael’thas intends to wrestle the decision from its hands.

The dead among their ranks light the way in the dark, they keep frostbite and hypothermia away, they keep their kin safe. That is what they were made for.

The fire set to an arrow and the fire of the hearth come from the same ember.

And through it all Kael’thas keeps a tight hold over the magic that animates them. It grows in him, like a fire kept well-stoked by rage, rekindled whenever it falters by the sight of yet another body puppeteered by Arthas.

Every forward party, every cohort of undead they cross paths with, they dispatch with immense prejudice. And once the dead have been killed again, they sort through the wreckage and pull the sin’dorei from their hard-won rest.

Fight for me, Kael’thas whispers, breathing fire into the furnace of their chest. Fight for your people, so that they may one day rest as you do.

There is nothing left of the person they once were in these restless dead — sometimes very little of their body even — but that small kernel of devotion to their kin, that banked ember that he coaxes back into a blaze.

Their numbers keep growing as they pick the Scourge apart, little by little. It makes them easier to spot; good. Let Arthas come track them down. Let him face the people he sought to destroy, and be destroyed in return.

Someone else takes notice of them — this glowing army of half dead men that burns through Northrend on its way to the Frozen Throne.

The demon hunter descends upon them, armed and unafraid, as if he might fight them all single-handedly if given the chance. But he keeps his hands at his side as he asks which master they serve, with a kind of foolish hope that they may not fight him.

“We serve the crown of Quel’thalas,” Lor’themar says, bright and sure in his role of Ranger-General, shielding Kael’thas behind his greater bulk. “Who are you? Who do you serve? Who do you fight?”

Illidan Stormrage serves no one, he claims, but himself; but he fights the Scourge, and the man at its head who would summon Archimonde to their world, and little matters more in an alliance than shared hatred for the Scourge nowadays.

Kael’thas steps past Lor’themar, crosses the barren space between his army and the lonely figure of the Betrayer, stands toe-to-toe with him and asks, “Will you fight with us?”

And Illidan — anger burning in face instead of eyes, a grief too large for even he to carry — a man who has only ever had himself to fight for, and to fight with—

This man looks back at Kael’thas’ smaller form, at the burning army of the dead that follows him, at the suffering of a people hounding his steps. He looks at the dark resolve in his golden eyes and the stubborn set of his shoulders as he prepares to fight — he’s always prepared to fight — and sees himself, younger and fairer but just as hungry. Just as desperate.

Victory or death, he whispers, quiet around a mouthful of teeth and blood, taking Kael’thas’ hand.

Sometimes both, Kael’thas replies, only half in jest, and shakes it.

These are three armies alike in desperation, taken to the limit of their force, unified in singular hatred of the force marching to the Frozen Throne.

It’s their edge, in a cruel way. No one could expect them to reach Arthas in time to cut him off; no one but themselves, pushing themselves to cross the continent in half the time it ought to take, the dead carrying the living when their mortal bodies fail.

They’re sharp, the three of them, all too clever for their own good, each ruthless in their own way. Each foolish in the same way. Sylvanas would have their men die to reach the battle one day sooner; Illidan would die himself for a chance at slowing Arthas down; Kael’thas would burn this continent to the ground and fall with it, if it meant ridding the world of its curse for good.

They balance each other out, somewhat, or rather keep each other contained by virtue of their sharp edges, like brawlers stuck in a fighting ring made up of the drawn blades of the audience. Stray too far from the plan, and you bleed. It’s as simple as that.

As a long-term alliance, calling it flimsy would be an abject overestimation. But here, in Northrend, with their time quickly running out, it’s as solid as steel to Kael’thas.

“You are fascinating,” Illidan says, watching the way golden light plays across Kael’thas’ skin as he weaves the spell over his troops stronger, makes sure they keep moving, keep burning, and never run out of fuel. The Sunwell is not an endless source; but it will hold until the end. That much he knows.

“I don’t think I am,” he replies easily, though that’s a lie. He knows himself to be one of a kind; but he’s been raised properly, and it’s impolite to brag.

Illidan doesn’t buy it for one second. “You are,” he insists, holding a strand of Kael’thas’ hair between two claws. It emits a faint glow, like heated metal, that might go unnoticed if not for the color it casts over Illidan’s darker skin. Like holding sunset in his palm. “All the power of a well of magic, held within one man— It’s not so much a surprise you can raise the dead, when one thinks about all the other things you might do with such magic at your disposal.”

Slowly, so Illidan might clue in before he makes a remark of it, Kael’thas lifts his eyes up and quirks up an inquisitive eyebrow at the piece of his hair that the other man is currently manipulating. He flushes, dark against his nightshade skin, and drops it as if it burned.

Pity; Kael’thas did not mind the touch, only found it amusing that Illidan would give it so freely. But the man might not have noticed himself doing it. Out of habit, perhaps, of being more free with his affection among other demon hunters; or because he, like many of the magic-infused elves, finds himself drawn to Kael’thas for reasons he could not put into words if pressed upon it.

Pushing the offending strand of hair behind his ear, he casts a glance across their assembled troops again. His men mill about, as comfortable among the Forsaken and Illidari as among their own. Only the dead stand still, puppets without a purpose yet. He longs to put them to rest. It aches to see them denied their rightful afterlife.

“This power isn’t mine,” he says eventually. “I must give it back, though I do not know — do not wish to know — how I will go around to doing it.”

It surprises him that he’s willing to say that much, to a man so nearly a stranger as Illidan. But it is true: he is running out of time in many more ways than one, and once Arthas is dead and he has brought his brethren back to their graves, he’s afraid of what will be left for him to do.

A phoenix must die to be reborn, after all.

At least he would die for his people; there is honor in that. What would happen if he were to die here, on this frozen hellscape, bears not thinking about.

He will not, cannot, fail.

In the final battle — their last chance before Arthas ascends to the Frozen Throne and crowns himself Lich King — Kael’thas thinks he may die.

His blood is hot on his skin, the stench of the undead pervasive in the air, and though every one of his men that fall can still fight he’s not sure the same can be said for him. He’s nearing his limits; he’s not sure he’ll notice he has crossed it until it’s too late.

Kael’thas wants to scream as he struggles to wrestle the control of sin’dorei from Arthas’ grasp, to cut the strings that tie their spirits to this world and burn the Lich King’s mark from them until only the piece of sun inside of them remains. Give me back my people. Let my kin come home. Let me bury them properly, and never disturb their rest again.

The wind whips his hair around his face as the battle rages, and each arc from his sword draws blood, too thick with decay and frost to splatter over him. All the blood on his skin is his alone; or his kin’s, but that is very nearly the same thing.

But he’ll make it through; he has to. For his people, for his father, for all the bodies held together by magic and prayer fighting around him.

When he reaches Arthas, the world falls to a standstill.

He’d like to gloat; he’d like to rage. But words fail him. Felo’melorn in his hands, the ghost of the sin’dorei at his back, it does not matter. Actions speak louder than words.

Whatever his sword says for him, Arthas gives his answer in blood.

#writing #world of warcraft #kael'thas sunstrider #illidan stormrage #necromancer kael'thas

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crispyjenkins · 4 years ago

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I’m resending it now! ok so what if for some reason Obi’s lightsaber either gets destroyed or the crystal stops resonating with him & He’s with Jango who goes with him to wherever the force guides him to find his new crystal at & like Obi goes through some wack vision/trial from the force and when he gets through it his new crystal reveals itself and it’s the same type of crystal like in the dark saber? And Jango is just losing it when he sees it bc he thinks “HOW?! but also, That’s HOT” hehe

(my DUDE i’m so flippin glad you re-sent this, i’ve had to force myself not to write this one so i could get other people’s prompts out, and i was at first unsure of how to spin this, but holy FECK is it all i can think about now. i just. i just want to write so much of this obi. i’m sorry i didn’t get to jango much, but you bet your butters he and obi are connected every which way in this, in ways beyond force bonds because i’m a dramatic bitch.

i hope y’all enjoy this one as much as i did!!)

edit 6/26/20: this is now part of a full fix-it! you can read it as it updates here on my Ao3! updates on fridays.

Illum is colder than he remembered, though the last time Obi-Wan had been here, he had not feared wrapping himself up in the Force. It’s been... Force, he hasn’t been back since after Melida/Daan, and something in him breaks again at the thought that he’d lost the ‘saber that had been with him for more than a decade. But, no, a lightsaber is a small price to pay to have saved his master.

His former master. He isn't Qui-Gon’s apprentice anymore, Anakin had made sure of that.

Obi-Wan had been sent to Illum alone, no younglings in need of making their first ‘saber, and no one else needing to replace theirs; Anakin has a few more months in the crèche before he can build his, and Obi-Wan can’t thank the council enough that he doesn’t have to walk the caves knowing his replacement is somewhere doing the same. With Qui-Gon still in the Halls, Master Plo had stepped forward in offer to knight him, and had almost had to fight Master Depa for the honor, which was... strange. He’s used to quite the opposite of masters fighting over him, but an amused Yoda had almost used his lineage status to refuse them both for himself instead, until Mace, as Master of the Order, had given the right to Plo Koon. And Jedi do not gloat, but the Kel Dor had certainly been smiling behind his mask.

The doors to the caves open easily despite the ice, so maybe his great-grandmaster had been right about Obi-Wan rebuilding his lightsaber before his knighting ceremony. This thought doesn’t settle the feeling of intruding when he steps over the threshold, the marrow-deep feeling of being an imposter in one of the most holy places in the galaxy.

The kyber hums around him, as if he wasn’t at this exact moment considering walking away from the Order.

He’s hardly a proper Jedi, is he? Killing a Sith with a sai tok, falling in love with Satine, holding a grudge against a nine year-old freed slave for taking his master away from him. Hadn’t he drawn on the dark side to defeat the Zabrak? Killed him not out of duty to his vow but in revenge for the fallen Qui-Gon? His lightsaber might have cauterised the wounds, but he has blood on his hands all the same.

So he keeps walking, refusing to touch a single crystal he passes. The Force tugs him deeper into the caves anyways, and he has half a thought to ignoring it (does he even deserve to listen to it anymore?) but for all his tumultuous thoughts, Obi-Wan is beholden to the Force, beholden to the grip it has in his viscera.

He follows it as his breath forms clouds before his lips, frost on his skin that he cannot even feel. Where would he go, if he left? Stewjon is insular, they would not want him back, but he cannot stay at the Temple. Naboo, perhaps? Padmé would surely welcome him, but could he really settle down on such a peaceful planet after spending over half his life running around the stars with his master?

Closing his eyes at the memory of Satine, he allows himself to... consider it. Would she still want him? They haven’t spoken since, but sometimes he can feel her in his mind still, a little warm bud that could bloom, if he let it. And even if she threw him out, Mandalore isn’t a bad place to restart.

“Could I really?” he muses out loud, stepping over a great crack in the stone floor and setting his feet to follow a barely-there path towards the lake, only for the Force to have him veer away from it. Could he really give up being a Jedi? After every trial the Force had put him through to even become an apprentice? Oh, but he had tried so. kriffing. hard. to get this far, could he really do anything else?

He swallows thickly and almost desperately pulls the Force back around himself, as if in apology, as if in repentance, as if anguish—

Peace, it whispers, brushing over his mind even as it sinks claws into his ribs and pulls him up short.

Obi-Wan is twelve again, wind whipping around him as the Jedi transport takes off from Bandomeer, Qui-Gon Jinn staring down at him. Force, but he hasn’t ever felt worse than when he feels their raw bond stretching with distance, yanking deep in him until he’s breathless, doesn’t Master Jinn feel it—?

And Obi-Wan is sitting in the living room of their Temple apartment, kneeling on his cloth meditation mat across from Qui-Gon’s bamboo one. His master’s warmth surrounds him in a glittering cloud of comfort and ease, and they’ve been at this for five years now, and still Obi-Wan holds this as his most treasured memory, something to cling to when things seem desolate or he’s been arguing with Qui-Gon, or—

He’s in the glass city of Sundari, brushing a hand over Satine’s cheek as she laughs, and Force, she’s even more beautiful than he remembers— She’s dying in his arms, bruises violent red around her throat, a sizzling ‘saber wound through her middle, and she’s beautiful even now, oh Force not like this—

Obi-Wan is older, his joints a little creakier, his hair grey at the temples, and he has a beskad sticking out of his chest. Above him is a boy that looks suspiciously like him, red hair and green eyes but with Satine’s lips and eyebrows. Korkie, the Force tells him, as the boy leans over Obi-Wan and why is he angry? Ah, so this blade had not been meant for him—

Anakin, little Anakin with a padawan braid beams up at him in a training salle with a practice saber in his fists. Obi-Wan moves to correct his kata, and though he’s... sure he had never learned this from Qui-Gon, he knows it’s Form III, he knows it’s Soresu like he knows his own name, like he knows the padawan bond in his mind and the warm nova glow of Anakin attached to his core—

Obi-Wan is an old man, seated on a perfectly smooth grey stone above a green, green cliff battered by ocean waves and briny air. He meditates with the knowledge he had come from here, the Force here as close to home as he could ever hope to achieve. He had not searched for the family that left him on the Temple steps, and that’s just fine by him, he could not have asked for a better place to begin his seclusion studies than Stewjon—

Obi-Wan is an old man, seated on a perfectly smooth red stone, the desert cliffs around him worn smooth from the sand that batters around him, ripping through his robes but never touching his skin. The Force is feral here, claws and bone and teeth teeth teeth, but somewhere out in the dunes, there shines Luke, pearlescent and good and proof that Obi-Wan has not failed just yet.

Satine is screaming at him as she shoves Korkie behind her back and raises a beskad that seems wrong, wrong in her hands, but he doesn’t have time to think about his heart wielding a blade, when he’s wielding the darksaber, whistling as it cuts through the air against Tor Vizsla, why had they trusted him, he knew he could not be trusted, and now his family is going to pay the price— His ‘saber, black as space, connects with Vizsla's, black as night, and Obi-Wan is not wielding the darksaber, but something else entirely, with a beskad’s edge, with a hum that’s almost a scream, that moves towards the darksaber with the intent to shatter—

A Mando in blue and silver beskar’gam hands him a hilt, hammered durasteel wrapped in black leather, so unlike any Jedi ‘saber hilt he’s ever seen, but Obi-Wan knows it’s his from the way it sings, the way the Force insists it’s his his his—

The blue and silver Mando with his helmet off, a man so unspeakably gorgeous that Obi-Wan wonders how he even copes— The Mando’s gloved hand grips Obi-Wan’s wrist, the face he knows so well twisted into dread and anger. Don’t go, they beg, but Obi-Wan must, he cannot abandon Mandalore, he cannot—, Don’t you realize that Zabrak’s fucking crazy? Obi-Wan, he’s going to kill you—

Obi-Wan is older, but not much, pinned underneath blue and silver armour as Sundari glass and blasterfire rains around them—

Obi-Wan watches the Beautiful Mando sleeping with his head pillowed on Obi-Wan’s arm, a new scar curling through his eyebrow that he hasn’t asked about yet—

A mini Beautiful Mando eyes him suspiciously, hands on his hips while his buir stands behind him and tries not to laugh—

Obi-Wan is on Illum, but he is not, he weaves his way through dusty streets he has never seen before and yet knows the way by heart, following that heart towards the hangar where his aliit waits. He has beads braided messily in his hair, twisted by pudgy fingers insisting Obi-Wan deserves to look just as pretty as his buir; that durasteel and leather hilt bounces against his hip, and he has a single blue and silver gauntlet on his right arm. He is a Jedi, the Force assures him, in the way light bends through him, but he is also Mando’ad, he knows that without needing to ask. He belongs to a planet and to a people that he did not start with, in a strange Force-willed way that he can’t explain, and he’s a Jedi, but he knows he has a family waiting for him in an old police craft. A black-bladed ‘saber hums at his side.

Obi-Wan opens his eyes in front of a rock wall, glittering kyber in every colour rising up the sheer face until their little lights disappear into the darkness far above him. Just above eye-level, there is a small crater in the wall, as if the rest of the kyber cannot grow around the single crystal at the crater’s center.

It is opalescent and space-black, and looks as if it had been cut for a piece of opulent jewellery. The Force whispers heart heart heart, and he supposes it does look the size and shape of a beskar’ta, and isn’t that fitting?

When he reaches out to take it, the white glow at its edges seems to suck in the light from around it, and it sings higher than any crystal he’s ever touched, whistling trials and heartbreak and pain and blood, but also love and laughter and family, if he lets it form the notes just right. It sings in Mando’a, in war gods and clans and beskar, and it sings for Obi-Wan alone.

- Across the galaxy, Jango wakes on Jaster’s Legacy in a cold sweat.

Translations/Other: sai tok — the ‘saber move of cutting an opponent in half, frowned upon by the Jedi for its roots in the dark side. beskad — traditional Mandalorian curved saber made of beskar. allit — Mando’a for “clan” or “family”. buir — Mando’a for “parent”, gender neutral. beskar’ta — Mando’a for “iron heart”, the elongated hex-shape common in Mandalorian armour designs (great post here comparing them to katana tsuba). also called ka’rta beskar or “heart of the iron”. Jaster’s Legacy — Jaster’s old ship that Jango found and used post Galidraan, and pre Slave I.

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cerberus253 · 4 years ago

Text

Demon Deep Dive (JCA)

Someone asked if I could do headcanons for the Eight Demon Sorcerers from Jackie Chan Adventures, so here it is, and more! Much more oh God...

Canon Stuff

All seven Demon Sorcerers HATE Shendu for his conniving nature and deceptive past towards/with them (Drago just hates him because father issues)

The Demon Sorcerers do not need external objects to perform spells, for it simply comes from their physical being

They are all old fucks

There are plenty more demon sorcerers, but these eight/nine are all those that were ever mentioned

All want to rule the world

Everyone, aside from Shendu, actually somewhat care about each other and agree to rule the world together. Why is that even though they shouldn’t have “social urges“ because of their biology? We’ll discuss that later

Looking back on the very first episode they were all in together, they are fucking in sync as all Hell! They were finishing each others’ sentences, they knew what each one was thinking. Damn, son, they be tight AF; family goals, amiright?

How to start a Demon Sorcerer meeting: Step 1) Find Po Kong, Step 2) Call everyone else over because it would take too long moving her at all

About the individual demons themselves (Most of this is reworded from the Wiki, but confirmed through watching their episodes):

Hsi Wu

Guerilla tactics for the win

Oddly patient, ya know, for someone so kind of childish

Becomes bored easily, so he has the knack to pick on his siblings and humans, with the latter being in more vicious and cruel ways

Aside from Shendu, Hsi Wu is the most bullied by his siblings (it’s because he’s small, isn’t it??)

Although he hates Shendu like the rest of his siblings, he is more “cold and apathetic“ towards him, with occasionally getting along, albeit extremely slight

High pitched noises hurts his ears

“His wings are sharp enough to cut through concrete“

Playful, although in a sadistic way

Simply flies to get where he needs to be

Likes to pester and make fun of Po Kong specifically

He just. Constantly smiles or has this big wide, toothy grin on his face all the time

*gremlin noises* *cat hisses*

Best/Worst Actor Award goes to...

Tso Lan

Sophisticated and more-or-less monotone sounding, he is always on alert with his senses. Despite this, his reaction timing is awful

Seemingly emotionless, his relaxed demeanor breaks when something doesn’t go his way. He does display some sarcasm, though

According to the wiki, he is very hard to please and never compliments anyone. What a stuck-up asshole

Along with Bai Tza and Xiao Fung, he is one of the more authoritative demon figures of the family

He apparently is one of the elder siblings

He is one of the most powerful sibling because he can bring the fucking Moon out of fucking orbit like it is nothing

He is Shantae He can control his hair, as well as float and glide gracefully

He can survive in space

He does indeed have legs, for he has been seen walking ONCE and we get to see his boots (Demon World (Part 2))

Shendu (My apologies, but not my regret, about if you are upset with me and my loathing for Shendu)

Selfish asshole who doesn’t like sharing, even with his family

Everybody Hates Shendu and Shendu Hates Everybody, and they all want each other dead, including Drago

Legit, he made a truce with Uncle, the mortal enemy, so he could horribly punish Drago. What a good father, amiright???

Can hold a grudge for, like, ever and hardly ever keep his promises. He also willingly admits he’s a traitorous bastard

Greedy and sophisticated asshole

Like, Jesus Christ, I wanted to give Shendu some slack because I did not want myself to be blinded by hatred for the guy, but my God is he the worst

“Shendu is not only devoid of compassion and sympathy for mortals, but also cares little to nothing for his family-members - this is displayed most markedly by how he left his siblings to rot in the Netherworld so he could rule the Earth himself.“

“Father and son's relationship was so toxic that Shendu even declared when Drago was being sucked into an interdimensional rift that his son deserved no less than to be trapped on the other side for his disloyalty.“

“Despite this, in response to Drago's apology and profuse pleading, Shendu visibly contemplated for a moment and hesitantly decided to try saving Drago from his fate (with a warning that his son must remember he is second to Shendu while they're on Earth), suggesting Shendu might genuinely care about his son to some extent (or at the very least, as close to caring about another being as Shendu is capable of).“ Um, not sure if I agree on the “genuinely care“ part, but totes on board with the “just wants him for a playing chip“ thought

Although he may be one of the most powerful demons of the family, that does not stop his siblings from actively going against him, which surprisingly makes Shendu submissive to them. Hmm...

He legit cares about no one but himself and that is no overstatement. I’m sorry to all those fangirls out there :V

Once ruled all of China

Shendu gets all whiny and high pitched, often stuttering, when expressing fear (which is every single time he gets a family reunion, which reminds me...)

He can be such a cheeky charmer

Although Shendu only cares about himself, he does seem pretty observant with recognizing what others do want, and of course uses that to his advantage. Hm, observant guy; no wonder he has fangirls

Tchang Zu

Not that talkative, even during fights, and rather only speaks when he feels the need to. However, when he does speak, it is rather loud and/or commanding

Hates when he isn’t respected, especially out of fear. He hates it so much he verbally explodes with anger when something personal to him is disrespected

Is willing to get down and dirty when reaching his (and his siblings’) goals

Is most likely the most colorful with his wording and admiring architecture

Really only attacks those he deems worthy (apparently there was a crowd of humans he only bothered scaring away and not attacking, even though they only saw him as entertainment?)

Become Goku Flies on a cloud to get where he needs to be

Oh my God he sits criss-cross-applesauce

Dai Gui

A little under average intelligence, but his brutality and strength make up for it, being an absolute bulldozer with anything that stands in his way

I must reinforce the “a little under average“ part because he does use the word “ludicrous,“ which is no caveman word

Violent and macabre imagery is his verbal forte

A big bully, since he loves throwing his authority around to those under him

Similar to Tchang Zu, Dai Gui is also willing to do dirty work, but mainly for himself than for others

Absolutely LOATHES “pretty“ things, like flowers

Sometimes talks in third person

Seems to prefer using his raw strength than his magical powers

Laughs at his own jokes

Persistent and dedicated. Nice!

Po Kong

Hungry Hungry Hippo; food is always on the mind, I wouldn’t be surprised if her want to rule the world was second on her list

Although she can and would eat anything, she is still picky

Her favorite flavor is human and salt

She knows French (ah yes, one of the “Love Languages”)

She snores

Po Kong likes to torment Hsi Wu

She can walk on her own

Favorite food: Human

Bai Tza

Hates Shendu the most

Most outspoken and dominating out of all the demons (”verged on superiority complex”)

Tends to deal with situations more realistically, as well as learning from past mistakes

Despite her intelligence, her hubris still gets the best of her

Along with Tso Lan and Xiao Fung, she is one of the more authoritative demon figures of the family

Apparently didn’t have humans living in her palace, which was Atlantis

Can levitate

Bunch of banshee screeches. Yeesh

Xiao Fung

Talkative and slimey diplomat that prefers debating with his siblings rather than arguing and fighting

Enjoys fights to the death between his underlings

Has an interest in drama and being a part of it

Seems to be the most cooperative and decent when working with humans. Cool!

Absolutely despises the Netherworld so much that a human prison is “paradise“ to him

Along with Bai Tza and Tso Lan, he is one of the more authoritative demon figures of the family

Need to get somewhere? No problem, just jettison your way with wind bellows from your lungs through your mouth

Although he does care for his siblings, it’s apparently not enough to “carry the burden“ of freeing them. Maybe it’s out of pure laziness? He does seem against doing active things (other than blowing wind, which only he can do)

Headcanon Stuff

Why do the Demon Sorcerers (besides Shendu) actually care for one another and agree to share the Earth between each other? I did say they do not possess the inherent-to-parent instinct, but I never said they were not social animals. The demons may not have the need to reproduce or want sexual anything, but they do posses the need/want to have company, which is kind of supported by the fact that canonically and in real life, Chinese demons mainly want to be praised and treated like gods. One cannot be considered a god, nor be praised in general, if one does not have beings beneath or beside them for confirmation

So, in a way, you could say they all desire some sort of reassurance of their importance.

Their relationship with humans is understandable, given from with what I just said, but the relationship between one another is a little more... deep? They obviously consider each other legit family, so they do care about one another (with some rough-play rivalry), but I think it’s less on the biological factor and more of the “fitting in“ factor.

Here’s my theory: Yes they are biologically family, but they did not view each other as such originally. After a while of being with one another, experiencing similarities, they became family-close in the metaphorical sense (in addition to the literal sense). This would explain how Shendu could have lost touch with them intimately while the others did not with each other, all the while still considering each other as family.

So, despite my whole push on the demons having little compassion, they do still harbor it; expressing it through family feelings. However, just like humans, there are always those who posses less compassion than the average person, and that would be Shendu. Shendu is the psychopath of the family-- the Black Sheep, if you will

In addition, theoretically, for all those fangirls and guys out there, they could love you like a precious pet. Just sayin’ (so, like, imagine the Demon Sorcerers having human pets and treating them like we do our own “Look how much of a chonkster my human is!” “Oh yeah? Well mine started getting ready for winter early; look at this massive boy-o!” I call my cats “stupid, stinky babies who I love” and then proceed to cuddle them all the time :V)

Fuck it, they have family movie/theatre nights because I find it endearing even though it may be Out of Character

To begin this next section, I want to state that the Demon Sorcerers are based on The Bagua. However, it is merely their elements that are the inspiration, not anything with the philosophy behind Bagua. However however, I will be looking into it and seeing what the Bagua has that still can reflect on the sorcerers. In other words, instead of basing the demons on the Bagua, I’ll be “basing“ the Bagua on the demons, if that makes sense.

Smol

Hsi Wu’s kingdom was probably located on the eastern coast of the USA

Judging by that teacher’s transformation with some of his chi, he may have “avian tendencies” with flying south for the winter and building nest-like structures

Probably the most convincing one to “befriend“ a human. Not because of his past friendship with Jade, but because people could relate to him of being picked on from size and lack of abilities, in addition to being more approachable because of his size and playfulness

His demeanor is mostly childlike, especially with how cruel children can be

Probably dislikes orchestral music, especially violins, flutes, the triangle, etc

Would most likely become a memester. Maybe.

“How do ya do, fellow kids?“

Likes to listen to music/singing while doing things and stuff. So, maybe he has to be distracted to some degree to be content, or he will be grumpy? (AD(H)D)

Real Talk: At one point in Tale of the Demon Tail (where Jade “befriends” Hsi Wu, or really his persona), Hsi Wu’s persona of being Jade’s friend actually disintegrates. Meaning, that “mask“ he put on to befriend Jade, at one point dissolved into an actual aspect of himself. So, when he answered Jade’s question of ‘are you going to the dance‘ or whatever, his initial response was that of an actual human-child Hsi Wu friend. While yes he was still acting, his initial response was almost unconscious, and then he realized what he was saying and said the other thing. I mean, it could have easily been “Nah, that’s stupid-- oh wait, that’s a good idea to get inside the house, actually,“ but that still follows the unconscious response action. What am I getting at here? Well, the interaction the two had proves that a clump of Hsi Wu’s personality does click with Jade. I’m not saying “I ship it“ or anything, what I’m saying is their personalities attract one another in general and could work between two different characters. As much as they seem to get along, there are other characteristics the two have that oppose one another and definitely shatters that friendship. So, Jade and Hsi Wu Being Friends? No; Some Personality Traits They Have Connect to One Another in General and Could Work Between? Yes.

The ye olde game of Chase is probably his favorite. Ya know, the game where you chase people around? Yeah, any game where he gets to chase/hunt his pray would be his favorite

Very similar to Shendu, Hsi Wu is one of the craftier folk of the family. However, unlike Shendu, creativity is his primary weapon which is, of course, used to make up for his size.

Similar to Xiao Fung, Hsi Wu is also one of the siblings that listens and pays attention the most. Their difference being is the information he learns is more for his selfish advantage than a “getting along” way.

Despite his dishonesty towards Jade, he is the most integral to himself. What I mean is, while yes all the demons follow their demon ethos, I believe Hsi Wu is the most true to himself and wouldn’t back down or reject something he is honestly interested in. However, probably because he knows how others know him, he can use this integrity to fool others into believing him with ease.

Hsi Wu is also probably the most inclined to have faith in others, but this DOES NOT mean he easily trusts people. What I’m saying is he may not easily trust others, but when he does, that faith in them is near unwavering

“The Beauty of Mischief”

“Lord High Lord of the Sky,” or “Lord High Lord of Firmament”

Vamps

Tso Lan’s “kingdom“ was probably located on the Moon

Like all sophisticated assholes, he probably enjoys reading, but only books that deal with the fall of humanity and apocalypse stuff. Maybe even some space stuff, like the movie Interstellar? (Star Wars can kiss his ass, though)

Can posses dark matter? Because of his dark magic bolts and his affinity with gravity?

Doesn’t like being around people. His siblings are fine, but he rather not have company, judging by how he most likely spends his time on the Moon and rarely visits Earth. Antisocial personality disorder much??

Like we have stated earlier, Tso Lan never gives out compliments, for he is oh so difficult to please. He watches intently and is careful with his neutral wording, always sounding cold and cruel. However, despite his emotionless disposition, he does have some ugly colors. For example, he does get angry, especially when he is interrupted. Example two, he does take pleasure in tormenting his enemies. However, the good color of natural tranquility explains his seemingly “lack of emotion.”

If he can ever “give respect” to anyone, it’s probably so difficult to achieve it should be considered impossible. But hey, if you do somehow get his compliments, consider yourself special, home slice! In addition, it’s probably also highly unlikely to get him to laugh. Like, not even a chuckle. Maybe a sarcastic and flat “Ha,“ but nothing too intense.

He may not think of himself as king or an emperor, but he does view himself as some sort of higher metaphysical power, like a pontiff. In addition, he probably sees his position being the highest because of his throne on the Moon and his power over gravity (and maybe dark matter). Being used to this placement, he has distanced himself from just about every living thing, being untainted with normal, petty desires. Oh but being a demon has its drawbacks, for wanting is in the blood. Meaning, there are most likely some things out there that he may desire (Fanfic Writers, assemble!)

You want him him to talk dirty to you? Why yes, you should keep good hygiene and not be smelly. Real Talk, though, because of his lack of emotion words, he probably would have difficulty conveying emotion verbally. But hey, his voice and tones are enough to get anyone aroused :V

Might secretly like dancing, but only simple ones. Like, The Waltz would be the most active he’d like

Might also hum tunes every so often. Despite that, he still prefers silence over noise of any kind.

“The Beauty of Isolation”

“Lord High Lord of the Moon,” or “Lord High Lord of Satellites”

Shit Dad

Probably studies magic the most and has a huge library filled to the brim with spell books and whatnot

Drago may be on his mind a lot, but probably not for any positive reason

Probably had Drago made for that thing in Taoism where two beings can connect one another metaphysically, and if one is in trouble (like they died or something), the other can help out (and resurrect if need be). Or, he wanted someone that wasn’t human on his side because he’s sure as Hell his siblings won’t side with him

While Drago is way more hotheaded than his Dad, it seems Shendu is more likely to let a petty grudge get in the way of his goals

Shendu hates family reunions

Dude’s a mad scientist

Probably regrets having Drago

Oh God, oh fuq, it’s the Big Bad Dragon that wants everything for himself. He must know what his name translates to because oh boy does he feel entitled to his mighty sovereignty. Like, he lusts for power so much that no amount of trickery could mask his clarity of greed, ya know, like a “true” dragon. What he wants, he will obtain, with let nothing obstruct his path… other than a petty grudge. He’s so full of passion and thermal rage he sticks out like a sore thumb amongst his brethren. He would even sink to deep lows to get what he desires, even if it is heavily depending on humans, lying, cheating, and stealing from his own family, doing forbidden things with humans to have a “son” he only wants to use as a playing piece, and even bend reality to his liking.

However, I must say it is impressive and admirable how adaptive he is with every situation he finds himself in. He is rather courageous and would try anything to reach his goal, even if it is siding with the enemy. Shendu speaks in sophistication and eloquence, to which the latter trait he shares with Xiang Zu, despite his childlike outbursts of rage.

He may not be the most elementally powerful sibling, but he is The Best with knowledge about other magics like spells and potions.

He does perform the stereotype of “dragons are beasts of greed” exceptionally well, which, I can admit, is pretty hot, being a monster lover myself

Something I’ve noticed with his face is that he lacks lips, which are replaced with external tooth-like structures. This actually forces the creators to make him expressive through other means, like his eyes. So, he’s expressive, and he fits the draconic poem I read in a book somewhere “Beware the glint in a dragons’ eye/ It is cold as ice to the liar/ It is sharp as a knife to the knave/ It is hard as iron to the greedy/ It is a burning flame to the brave.”

“The Beauty of Wrath”

“Lord High Lord of Fire,” or “Lord High Lord of The Thermal”

Sparky

Tchang Zu’s kingdom was probably located on the western coast of the USA

Would request for extravagant buildings and structures, as well as being a big fan of theatre (Beowulf, anyone?)

I can imagine him having a deep, boisterous laugh that is an award to trigger

Probably the best war strategist, everyone would hate playing Axis and Allies with him (He’d either play Russia for the size, or Germany because, well, you know)

(I’m just repeating what I’ve already stated, but whatever.) Similar to Tso Lan, Tchang Zu is careful with his words. However, what the latter does is speak only when he deems it appropriate, and sometimes with eloquence. When he does share his thoughts, it is in an assertive tone, making everyone stop and listen.

Tchang Zu is rarely ever caught off guard and surely plants himself where he stands, literally and figuratively. Despite his assertiveness, he does not come off as one of the most “authoritative” figures of the family. Instead, he’s more of an overseer and commander, making sure everything is falling in line under his, and his siblings’, iron-fist.

He is one of the few that would take the initiative when confronting a problem, which must be pretty terrifying for the opposition, seeing as how intimidating he is. Oof. Although he is on the shorter side, it does not bother him, for he knows his power is just as great as his siblings’.

Unlike his siblings, he wouldn’t be one of the “crafty” folk. What I mean is he isn’t a trickstery cuck like Hsi Wu and Shendu, but actually follows demon code and honor. I mean, not that “demon honor” is anything greater or equal to “human honor,” but the point still stands. What is “Demon Code and Honor” you ask? I dunno, watch Jackie Chan Adventures and observe demon culture yourself.

His demeanor may be slow and steady, but when he fights and flashes lightning, so much power and energy erupts from within. Majestic

Knows how to use semicolons properly

“The Beauty of Imperiality”

“Lord High Lord of Thunder,” or “Lord High Lord of Electricity”

Dai Guinguini

Dai Gui’s Kingdom was probably located on the western coast of Europe, maybe more specifically Spain

Let’s take that “hates pretty things“ even further beyond. The words “delicate and innocent“ usually come to mind when the words “pretty“ and “flower“ are shown. So, I headcanon he hates weak and fragile looking things, as well as cute. The more petite and dainty something looks, the more of an urge to destroy rises up

Probably needs to hold down a vomit when seeing romance in any medium (lava vomit?)

Also probably iffy on crystals and gems. Like, they are shiny and pretty and are sometimes delicate, but man, the massive structures these things can form into is crazy.

Dai Gui reminds me of the colossi in Shadow of the Colossus when viewed just wandering around. We know he acts like a brute and hates petite things, and is quite aggressive when he fights, but there’s something about him that makes me think of some majestic creature that likes to walk around all alone in a wide open space. There is some beauty to his “monstrosity” and I feel like that’s overlooked by him always being described as, well, a brute.

Although not as intense as Shendu’s, rage can also be a common sight with Dai Gui, but it’s mostly from his non preferred environments. Also, similar to Tchang Zu, Dai Gui appreciates his structural surroundings, but has a more keen interest in its earthly variety. Mountains, canyons, plains, plateaus, mesas, volcanos, deserts, etc. would be his ideal territory. Like I have mentioned before, I feel like he’d often roam around his landscape, constantly fixing and changing anything he desired.

Even though he doesn’t like flowers and such, I do not think he hates nature in general. Maybe most of it, but not all. He may like huge ass trees for their size and might, grasslands (like savannas) because, although grass is all over, it still gives a vast emptiness of calmness, which deserts give a vast emptiness of despair.

Quick note, I’m not saying he’s artistic and elegant. What I am saying he isn’t just a dumb idiot caveman that just lusts for destruction, but rather actually has a hobby of shaping the earth. Yes, he might find the terrestrial variety of the earth interesting, but he isn’t all, like, “Hmm yes, insert fancy art words here;” he’s more like “Hm yes, me like; I shall do more over there” and then just… does it without any pre planning or anything.

Not only does he like creating earthly structures, but also destroying them. Have you ever built something so cool (or have just seen something so cool) with Legos or whatever, and for some reason want to destroy it just because ‘ha ha destruction fun’? Yeah, that’s him sometimes.

I’d also like to add he likes bugs. Not only eating them, but also admiring their earth shaping tendencies. Their structures won’t stop him from eating them all, but he does like to see what they make before the big snack

I bet he likes to sunbathe sometimes. Mmmmm, warm rocks always feel good. Cool rocks, too! (This also made me think of belly rubs… hmm)

“The Beauty of Incessance”

“Lord High Lord of Earth,” or “Lord High Lord of Formation“

Mount Vesuvius

Po Kong’s kingdom was probably located in Japan, and/or Japan itself

Most likely the one to zone out on meetings with just thoughts on food (ADD maybe?)

Although she’d eat anything, Po Kong probably appreciates and remembers excellent meals. In addition, she probably could describe in detail of various tastes

Or, alternatively, since she eats so much all the food just blends together

Apparently, humans taste like chicken. So maybe, genetically create giant ass chickens, like in Skyrim, and feed her that if humans become scarce and/or too small for satisfaction

Probably the most difficult demon to satisfy, but not just because of hefty demands, but because she is practically the personification of gluttony. Like, I’m sure she can and will eat anything she wants, even inorganic things. She likes it? Nom. She hates it? Nom. She will never be fulfilled until she has consumed all… or until she explodes or whatever. I’m being dramatic.

Luckily, she is not picky. Unluckily, she is also picky. I guess it just depends on her hunger mood. One day, she may want just a bunch of salty snacks, likes chips and fries, and on another day she may want a giant bundt cake filled with gooey human flesh and blood.

Legit though, her kingdom/empire would be the number one food place in the entire world, with having the largest kitchen and all the best cooks (ha ha, like a collection. You could say she would have Too Many Cooks, but “too many” doesn’t exist in Po Kong World!). She would have food critics to make sure the meals she really wants to enjoy taste wonderful. Dude, like, imagine Gordon Ramsay and Guy Fieri at her command. She’d laugh her ass off with Ramsay yelling at people and Fieri with all of his antics; they’d be her favorite little humans. Funny, they’d both still be practically doing the job they do now, just being ordered around by a tyrannical demon who also likes food.

Has no interest in video games and picture shows, but does have the interest in the unique food that appears in them and of course demands them to be made for her.

To get on her “good side” is to be absolutely loyal to her and her eating habits. Ya gotta make the best meals, serve them in delightful ways (she actually doesn’t care about any fancy stuff, but appreciates the effort if done right).

I bet she likes getting spoiled. I mean, yeah, all the demons would want gifts rained down upon them, but they wouldn’t express as much glee as Po Kong would. She’d probably sound condescending half the time, but hey, at least she’s happy and smiles. Gotta give her big gifts though. Go big or go home, folks.

Just like us folk, she prefers Maximum Comfort when eating. That means sitting in her favorite chair, eating from her favorite dish, and watching her favorite entertainment pieces.

Ya into vore? She’s your woman *finger guns*

“The Beauty of Indulgence”

“Lord High Lady of the Mountains,” or “Lord High Lady of Beasts“

What do you call a fish without eyes? A Fsh

Bai Tza’s kingdom is factually Atlantis, but in the JCA universe, Atlantis might be close to the southern coast of Europe in the Mediterranean Sea

She’d be the one initially planning family get-togethers

Do I dare say I could imagine her being a dominatrix? Yeah sure

Similar to Tso Lan, she has/had an isolated kingdom away from humanity, but unlike her brother she most likely had subjects, which lived coastal in southern and south-east Europe, Northern Africa, and the Middle-East. Every civilization took a part in building her castle and its decor, but soon after it was complete, she sank it to the bottom of the Mediterranean Sea, never to be gazed upon with mortal eyes ever again.

Although she can survive in either, Bai Tza prefers warm and salty waters over cool and fresh waters.

Because of her unique bond with water, which literally has her able to morph to and fro between a liquid and solid state, she probably traveled and oversought numerous locations around the world, with any place being close to warm and salty seas. Did she hold dominion over them? Maybe, seeing as how just the Mediterranean Sea and most of its surrounding land is quite small for a kingdom when compared to her siblings’ territories.

Bai Tza may not be one of the most powerful siblings, but she is the most feared. She’s able to restrain herself when angry, she thinks outside the box when confronting obstacles, and her dynamism makes her tricky to confront. She is straightforward, blunt, and has a wicked and sharp tongue. Like stated before, she is one of the more outspoken relatives, being very dominant in every activity she takes part in. Wouldn’t surprise me if she was a control freak. However, enjoying her power so much leads her to be arrogant, making her hubris the number one weakness.

Bai Tza is probably the most cruel because she actively thinks about the damage she can cause instead of just doing it. Despite her cruelty, she isn’t heartless; she may in fact be the one that cares about her family the most, with having the most hatred for Shendu because of his betrayal to said family. On a side note with Drago, she probably rejects him mostly for his differences than his relation with Shendu, but of course the latter still counts. So, welcoming those into her tight personal circle would be a ‘no.’

Despite her evilness, she can and will compliment things that amuse her, and being super protective of them like personal property.

Would drown ships with anti-demon supporting humans on them, as well as anyone who enters her territory without permission. Probably could be convinced with gifts, but they better be good.

Theoretically could forgive past mistakes, but they must be made up with something equal or greater amount to said mistake.

Likes to wear jewelry, especially gold.

“The Beauty of Absolution“

“Lord High Lady of Water,“ or “Lord High Lady of the Abyss“

Froggy

Xiao Fung’s kingdom was probably located in Latin America

One of the smarter siblings, Xiao Fung prefers to discuss and debate over physically fighting. Not sure why, but maybe because he doesn’t view physical fighting as something “high ups” do; all of the dirty work is for the peasants beneath them. However, if forced and there being no other way, he would partake.

Knows the art of conversation quite well and usually dishes out the best conversations. He may not be eloquent like Tchang Zu, or very particular with his words like Tso Lan, but damn can he keep a conversation going if need be. It wouldn’t surprise me if he’d yak with others if he’s bored. Maybe try talking some existential stuff with him; that’d be neat. Or keep asking ‘why’ like an annoying child, and he’d probably be tricked into answering each one, with getting annoyed more and more the longer it all goes on.

Despite his laziness, he still would do activities that require his assistance, as long as it’s something only he can do. If there is someone else available, he’ll leave it to them.

Xiao Fung is probably one of the more “approachable” demons, being how he doesn’t immediately give off “fear and respect me or die” vibes. He’s still intimidating, but to those with any amount of courage could muster up to confront him. Ya know, if it isn’t anything personal to him, then in that case you’d be the one telling everyone how terrifying he is, also, ya know, if he lets you go back to your village.

It wouldn’t surprise me if he had decision making issues when it comes to something he likes vs something useful/”right”

If a human went up to him and made a deal, he most likely would take it as long as he gets something in return that he wants, as well as the odds being in his favor.

Human antics are strange and insignificant, but they are still intriguing to him and would converse about it. Just don’t think you’d make him change his opinion on us; that won’t happen, fo sho.

The most forgiving and patient of the family, although it may not be by much. It most likely stems from his diplomatic character, being willing to discuss situations, even thoughts he leans more against. It’s really the subjects she is 100% not on board with he will not discuss, but something around 70%-60% he’d be more willing to listen to. Whether he actually agrees with you and is not just listening for amusement is another story.

Really enjoys music, favoring well put together orchestral.

Could hold some serious long notes, and probably sing in all sorts of keys (Dude. Singing bass)

Dude probably loves board games like chess.

Tchang Zu and him probably get along well because of shared interests in theatre and strategy games.

Would be the one to bring up topics to get everyone arguing if things got boring, like politics. In addition, he would also bring up playing the “Friendship Ender” games we all know and love, like Uno and Monopoly.

While Hsi Wu carries the “shit eating smile,” Xiao Fung has the “smug cat” face.

“The Beauty of Disruption“

“Lord High Lord of Wind,“ or “Lord High Lord of Currents“

Bonus Factoids Upon my Research

Theoretically, because it is stated that the Twelves Talismans are physical manifestations/vessels of Shendu’s powers, the other eight sorcerers (this includes Drago) could have their own Twelves Talismans

Apparently, killing/destroying a demon causes the disruption of balance within the universe, causing a “stronger evil“ to manifest and fill that “wound.“ So, again, theoretically, could a “stronger good“ happen as well if a situation summons/calls for it??

Sadly, according to Shendu, the all chi-absorption thing Drago did at the end of Season 5 is irreversible. So, canonically, Drago is technically forever stuck as a Cthulhu abomination. I am forever sad. Like, yeah I’m a terato lover, but I really prefer Drago as normal :’( However, Shendu answered to a human using a man-made chi spell. What if the actual Demon Sorcerers did a chi spell, to which apparently is conductible without external means? Could they be powerful enough to reverse it if all of them worked together???

[Chinese and English Name/Japanese Name- Chinese Translation/Japanese Translation]

Hsi Wu/Tokage- Evil Lizard/Small Lizard

Tso Lan/Kyuketsuki- Flood maker/ Vampire

Shendu/Kiryu- God of All (oof)/Spirit Dragon

Tchang Zu/Oni- Soldier of Madness/Ogre

Dai Gui/Shishi- Great Ogre/Stone Lion

Po Kong/Daikaiju- Feared Cliff/Giant Monster

Bai Tza/Nisei- Force of Defeat/Second Generation

Xiao Fung/Keroro- Little Wind/Frog

Early Christmas gift to y’all :V

God I hope this is good enough. I’ve been spending all my free time working on these guys just to get the original ask done. Don’t get me wrong, I did like doing this and forming at least some kind of unique character with each, but I am so exhausted from how long I’ve been working on it. It’s mainly my fault for being such a try hard, so don’t blame yourself, Anon who asked for this; you all good, bruv.

#jackie chan adventures #jca #eight demon sorcerers #demons #hsi wu #tso lan #shendu #tchang zu #dai gui #po kong #bai tza #xiao fung #canon #headcanons #oh my god this was a lot of work #and dedication

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thetvmoviefan · 4 years ago

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Nabrina FanFics Part 10

Sabrina Spellman & Nicholas Scratch (Nick Scratch) FanFics MASTERLIST (UPDATEABLE PINNABLE)

Updated: September 20, 2020

As we await for news on Part 4 and when exactly when we will get the final part of CAOS, here are some fantastic Nabrina Fics by some wickedly good writers. Escape into their amazing and magical creations through their amazing writing as we wait on a final part. Make sure to leave some Love/Praise or Kudos through the comments on their work. Or maybe given them a little message to how much you enjoy their stories, they are the heroes through this Nabrina/CAOS hiatus.

As always have a Wicked or Hell-ish these fics and ENJOY!!!!

Fics in order by Last Update: 9/20/2020

[Key: AU=Alternate Reality - AH=All Human/All Mortal - * = New Fics to List]

1. “Wicked Winds”*

Author: sarahkwut @sarahwyland

Summary: Nicholas Scratch winds up at the Academy of Unseen Arts after being kicked out of several others for being too smart - and too powerful - for his own good. He’s got a chip on his shoulder and he’s not in Greendale to make friends. But then he meets Sabrina Spellman, a witch that’s not only beautiful, but just as up for breaking the rules as him.Except she wants nothing to do with him.His old friend Prudence places a bet that he can’t get her to give into him - but things get complicated as he not only starts to fall for Sabrina, but a deadly darkness settles over Greendale. Rated M - Chapters 1/? - Last Update 9/19/2020

2. “Let’s Fall in Love for the Night”*

Author: shotgunkitten @shotgunkitten

Summary: Hilda Spellman once said that their meeting was fate. And while neither Sabrina Spellman nor Nicholas Scratch were sure if they believed in that kind of thing, they were sure of this: They never wanted to find out what their lives would be like without each other. AU/AH- Rated T - Chapters 10/? - Last Update 9/18/2020

3. “Cruel Summer”

Author: thoughtsaboutshows @thoughtsaboutshows

Summary: A mix between AU and Cannon, where the young members of the Church of Night also attend Baxter High. The young witches and warlocks then go to the Unseen Arts Summer Camp to bolster their gifts. However Sabrina, being half mortal, only began attending after her Dark Baptism. To the mortals of Greendale, Unseen Arts Camp was for the wealthy. An elite sector of the Baxter High youth that attended a camp deep in the Greendale Wood far upstream of Sweetwater River. Many had tried to find and break in, but none have succeeded. To the mortals, the divide between the camp attendees and the not was of money and status. When in fact, the difference lay with light vs. night.Set between two timelines- the present and the summer, Sabrina attends camp for the first time and grows closer to Nick only for them to be torn apart as school starts. Rated Mature - Chapters 24/? - Last Update 9/17/2020

4. “Unwritten”

Author: Miss_Kath90 aka @misskath90

Summary: Tired of her aunt’s matchmaking attempts, Sabrina decides to tell a little white lie… and now she needs a boyfriend to accompany her to her hometown for the holidays.And who better to play that part than her good friend Nicholas Scratch? There is only one little problem… He had a crush on her since the day they met. When two friends pretend to be in a relationship, what could possibly go wrong? Rated T - Chapters 9/? - Last Update 9/15/2020

5. “Before the Devil Breaks Me”*

Author: willowaus @willowaus

Summary: All Sabrina wants to do is enjoy the last few years with her mortal friends. Attend college, party a little too hard, and make endless memories with them. But when you're a Spellman nothing ever goes as planned, especially not when she meets her handsomely mischievous classmate, Nick Scratch, who introduces her to a side of witchcraft that she's never thought possible.When people start ending up murdered in ritual sacrifices on campus Sabrina knows she can't keep both of her worlds apart any longer. Especially when it seems each murder is a message for her. AU - Rated Mature - Chapters 19/? - Last Update 9/15/2020

6. “If You Let Me”

Author: bunivy aka @bunivys

Summary: After pouring all of her time and effort into obtaining a law degree in the city, Sabrina Spellman moves back to Greendale for one last summer before she departs for good. She's fully intent on enjoying her stay in her hometown, even deciding to pick up a part-time job at her Aunt Hilda's cafe to save up some money. The only problem is that the boy in the bookstore across the way is one she's had some not-so-good history with and it's becoming increasingly harder to ignore him. Before long, she finds herself exploring the complexities of old high-school grudges and what-ifs, all while trying to sort out her present-day relationship with the boy she has long since deemed as non-existent.Meanwhile, Nicholas Scratch wonders if it would just be easier to remain non-existent. AU/AH - Rated Mature - Chapters 23/? - Last Update 9/04/2020

7. “Off The Record - One Shots”

Author: sarahkwut @sarahwyland

Summary: Missing scenes from my completed piece, 'Off The Record.' AU/AH - Not Rated - Chapters 8/? - Last Update 9/07/2020

8. "Free Pour”

Author: sarahkwut @sarahwyland

Summary: He's a bartender with a perfect free pour and a Ph.D. candidate. She thinks she wants to be a lawyer and wishes she had taken more chances in life. Both of them are trying to move on. But when their paths collide, Nick's hand is no longer steady with the bottle and she's far more willing to take a risk. AU/AH - Rated Mature - Chapters 23/23 - COMPLETED 9/01/2020

9. "Burning House”*

Author: thoughtsaboutshows @thoughtsaboutshows

Summary: Sabrina hasn't seen him in months but she still sees him everywhere. Nick sees her every night in his dreams. They both know what they want, but won't let the other have it. Not yet. Not when Nick will hardly talk to her and Sabrina used well...THAT candle... ONE-SHOT - Not Rated - Chapters 1/1 - Last Update 8/28/2020

10. “Born To Love You”*

Author: thoughtsaboutshows aka @thoughtsaboutshows

Summary: So Sabrina left Harvey at the altar for Nick. What now? Tune in for snapshots into Nick and Sabrina's life now that they've admitted their true feelings. What happened after Sabrina left Harvey and ran to Nick? Did they live happily ever after?This will be a collection of snapshots of this version of Nick and Sabrina. I don't know how often it will be updated, but we will get a look into their life together.I enjoy writing my fics based on songs, so if a particular song screams this Nick and Sabrina to you please message me on tumblr or comment below and maybe I'll write a scene based on it! ****Follow up to One-Shot Marry Me. Go READ it first!**** AU/AH - Not Rated - Chapters 3/? - Last Update 8/15/2020

11. “The Four Pictures”

Author: Copper_16

Summary: It’s been 10 years. Nick and Sabrina are teachers at the Academy along with some familiar faces. It’s been a decade there can’t be that much chaos anymore, right? Wrong. Rated T - Chapters 4/? - Last Update 8/04/2020

12. “Marry Me”*

Author: thoughtsaboutshows @thoughtsaboutshows

Summary: “No, No, No.” Nick said as he shook his head at Prudence. “Sabrina is my best friend. That’s it.”“Sure.” Prudence shrugged her shoulders.When she explained to her brother that they were likely more she had said it as a statement, not an invitation to have a conversation about it. She was entirely annoyed by the Spellman girl, and had found it odd and irritating that she and her brother had been attached at the hip from a young age.“Besides she’s marrying Kinkle, Prudence.” Nick explained more to himself than to Prudence. His eyes were wild and looking around the room, searching for something to land on. “Not me.”“Do you want her to?” Prudence asked as she leaned forward. Nick paused, unsure how to answer that question. Nick had been in love with Sabrina Spellman for most of his life. But she was happy with Harvey Kinkle. Prudence rolled her eyes and stood up sighing, and placed a hand on Nick’s shoulder. She was rarely affectionate and this was as comforting as she got. “You may want to figure that out.” AU/AH - Rated Mature - ONE-SHOT - Chapters 1/1 - Last Update 7/11/2020

13. “The Chaos In the Stars”

Author: willowaus @willowaus

Summary: Nick sacrificed himself to save her, but Sabrina's not about to let him fester away in Hell. But what happens when saving the one she loves brings about a series of apocalyptic events that Sabrina and the rest of the Spellman clan need to thwart?Alternate part 3. (Part 3 Fic) - Rated Mature - Chapters 24/24 - COMPLETED 6/30/2020

14. “A Little Wicked”

Author: Miss_Kath90 aka @misskath90

Summary: Sometimes, in the darkness of her room, unable to sleep, she thought about how easy it would be to fall in love with him. And she was sure a part of her was a bit in love with him already, but she kept holding to the past and that was hurting them both. Rated Mature - Chapters 1/1 - Last Update 6/16/2020

15. “Crash Into Me”

Author: thoughtsaboutshows @thoughtsaboutshows

Summary: Set after Part 3 and some time after Nick and Sabrina's breakup. Just a little one-shot of a mission they get sent on by Zelda. Tough conversations and some tears...and one bed ONE-SHOT - Not Rated - Chapters 1/1 - Last Update 6/15/2020

16. “Heaven can’t help me now”

Author: bunivy @bunivys

Summary: Soulmates are a universal law, the way of life. Sabrina's soulmate is Harvey, but she'll pick Nick every time, in every way. ONE-SHOT - Not Rated - Chapters 1/1 - Last Update 6/13/2020

17. “I knew you were trouble”

Author: Miss_Kath90 aka @misskath90

Summary: Sabrina didn’t know that being away from home for the first time could be so hard.Away from her aunts, friends and her-lifelong-boyfriend, Sabrina have to deal with the nostalgia but also with the new challenges College's life mean: get used to share a room with a not-so-nice roommate, put up with long hours of study and very few of sleep, learn to live from pre-cooked meals instead of her aunt Hilda’s homemade ones, find balance between her studies and her new social life… And resist the temptation a certain Nicholas Scratch mean for her. AU/AH - Rated Mature - Chapters 28/28 - COMPLETED 6/06/2020

18. “A Thing or Two to Learn”

Author: gracefulchaos

Summary: What if Sabrina and Nick weren't in the same coven, and they met each other later in life? AU - Rated Mature - Chapters 1/? - Last Update 6/06/2020

19. “When the Bones are Good”

Author: sarahkwut @sarahwyland

Summary: Sabrina Spellman is enjoying her life as a normal teenager. Sabrina Morningstar is reigning Hell with an iron fist. Ambrose Spellman is searching for a solution to bring them back together and close the time loop, Sabrina's wishes be damned. And Nicholas Scratch? He's faced down his own demons and he's desperate for redemption.Except the clock is ticking.On time and Terrors. (Part 4 Fic) - Rated General - Chapters 28/28 - COMPLETED 6/05/2020

20. “Bury a Lie”

Author: raeinthedark

Summary: Sabrina is comfortable with death. It's her job. But everything is changed on a rainy October morning. The life and work she was accustomed to are forever different in the wake of tragedy. There really isn't coming back from this, unless she can figure out who's behind it. AU/AH - Rated Mature - Chapters 3/? - Last Update 5/04/2020

21. “I run to you”

Author: thoughtsaboutshows @thoughtsaboutshows

Summary: Nick and Sabrina love two things. Research and each other. But their research often takes them to far away places, and far away from the person they love most. AU/AH - Not Rated - Chapters 1/1 - One-Shot COMPLETED - 5/21/2020

22. “My Body Is A Canvas For Your Love”

Author: Unseemingowl aka @unseemingowl

Summary: Sabrina had no love for the whip or the belt or the cane that Nick had used to enjoy so much, but restraints... That was another matter entirely. Rated E Mature - Chapters 1/1 - Last Update 4/29/2020

23. ”Ground Beneath Her Feet”

Author: mindlesshappy aka @feministstree

Summary: Sabrina is born out of a miracle - one that she wishes would repeat for her, but when she is destined for someone else, how much can she resist before her heart decides to give in. Alternatively, Nick is Sabrina's soulmate, but she really just wants Harvey to be it. Also, in the backseat are all the other possible ships, getting their own soulmate glories. Rated T - Chapters 18/? - Last Update 4/17/2020

24. “in your eyes (there's something burning inside you)”

Author: jessequicksters

Summary: Nicholas falls in love with Sabrina as fast as a mortal sells their soul to the devil. The only problem is, in the Church of Night, everything has a price. Even love.Especially love.(He bleeds every time he dreams of Sabrina and when they kiss, it happens too, but love isn't supposed to hurt, right? Except he's never known about love; the only thing he knows is that this half-mortal is going to be the death of him.) Rated Mature - Chapters 5/5 - Last Update 3/22/2020

25. “The Institute for Divine Craft”

Author: rayo aka @its-nabrina-bitch

Summary: After a humiliating spat with Father Blackwood pushes Sabrina away from her witching life and the Academy, Madam Satan crafts an alternative solution to move Sabrina Spellman further down the path of night. Ultimately leading her to the Institute for the Divine Craft. A handsome Headmaster with mysterious ties to her father, convinces Sabrina to abandon her mortal life, and cultivate her abilities as a child of the Church of Lucifer. AU - Rated Mature - Chapters 19/? - Last Update 3/22/2020

26. “My Lover of Blood and Milk”

Author: Unseemingowl aka @unseemingowl

Summary: It didn’t feel as though it had only been a few hours since she had made her way to the Greendale woods for Lupercalia. As she sat there, shivering in her muddied and bloodied silk slip, it felt as if a completely different person had made her way back out of the forest...... Or how Sabrina struggles with lust and trust after her disastrous Lupercalian night with Nick. Rated Mature - Chapters 4/4 - Last Update 3/15/2020

27. “I Need to Know”

Author: raeinthedark

Summary: Love isn't that easy to erase... and that song is on again. Rated General - Chapters 1/1 - Last Update 2/29/2020

28. “Be True To Your School”

Author: rayo aka @its-nabrina-bitch

Summary: Nicholas Scratch is the Golden Boy™ of Baxter High; star athlete, top of his class academically, and devastatingly handsome. Sabrina Spellman sees Sophomore year as an opportunity to expand her horizons; joining the cheerleading squad, running for student council, and making new friends along the way while working to maintain her relationships with her old friends. What Sabrina Spellman doesn't know: sophomore year is about to turn her world upside-down. Rated T - Chapters 6/? - Last Update 2/23/2020

29. “Ocean”

Author: sarahkwut

Summary: AU, M-Rated. Nicholas Scratch has everything working in his favor. He's got a decent job as a history teacher, his roommate Melvin is always up for video games and getting high, and Sabrina Spellman lets him mess up her sheets frequently. Sabrina knows Nick isn't good for her, but she can't stay away, no matter how hard it is to pretend she's completely okay with their casual arrangement. But when life takes an unexpected curve, Nick is forced to face a new normal he doesn't know how to navigate. And Sabrina may or may not be there to help him through it. AU/AH - Rated Mature - Chapters 27/27 - COMPLETED 2/10/2020

30. “I’ll be there”

Author: Miss_Kath90 aka @misskath90

Summary: She couldn’t stop looking at him, since she had recovered him from the claws of the Dark Lord, she felt unable to be apart from him and had to admit that part of her was afraid he would disappear if she moved from his side. And Sabrina wouldn't let anyone or anything separate him from her again. Never. Rated Mature - Chapters 1/1 - Last Update 1/30/2020

31. “Walk away”

Author: Miss_Kath90 aka @misskath90

Summary: Pain. Could he someday escape the pain? He sometimes thought it impossible. It was strange, his relationship with the pain, it was an enemy and a friend. The pain numbed him. The pain didn’t let him sleep. The pain hurt him and soothed him. It was unhealthy, the way the pain helped him relieve the pain. But it was the only thing he had left. Rated T - Chapters 1/1 - Last Update 1/27/2020

32. “To Hell and Back”

Author: sarahkwut

Summary: Sabrina was successful in her efforts to retrieve Nick from Hell, but the damage - physical and emotional - is deep. Sometimes, the only way to heal is to go your separate ways and trust things will work themselves out in the end. (Written before Part 3 - an alternate take on how Nick recovers from his time in Hell - with and without Sabrina). Rated Mature - Chapters 3/3 - Last Update 1/26/2020

33. “The Morning(star) After”

Author: rayo aka @its-nabrina-bitch

Summary: A Painful NickxSabrina Reunion Rated T - Chapters 1/3 - Last Update 1/24/2020

34. “My only love sprung from my only hate”

Author: filmharlot

Summary: High School AU where Nick is based on the version of him that Sabrina creates in her dream during the Batibat episode. Harvey and Sabrina have broken up and don't want to work together on the Romeo and Juliet assignment in Drama class, so she ends up being partners with Nick AU - Not Rated - Chapters 8/? - Last Update 1/19/2020

35. “A very witchy Christmas”

Author: Miss_Kath90 aka @misskath90

Summary: Just a bit of silly Christmas fluff that I couldn’t help but write, placed in the series universe after a huge jump in time. Not Rated - Chapters 1/1 - Last Update 12/25/2019

36. “Mortal Little Christmas”

Author: HeartsInJeopardy

Summary: ‘Twas the night before Christmas – and the first for Nick Scratch - but Sabrina’s holiday movie was not a good match. Rated T - Chapters 2/2 - Last Update 12/21/2019

37. “Lessons in the Unseen”

Author: bunivy aka @bunivys

Summary: Academy Teachers AU. Sabrina Spellman lives as simple a life as a half-mortal half-witch can. Despite her dislike for the headmaster, she enjoys spending her time teaching Ritual Magic at the Academy of Unseen Arts, hoping to positively shape the minds of young witches and warlocks. However, with the sudden dreadful announcement of her aunt Zelda's engagement and the appearance of one mysterious - and strikingly handsome - Nicholas Scratch, Sabrina finds that her life is not so simple anymore. Or all that safe. AU - Rated Mature - Chapters 32/32 - COMPLETED 12/17/2019

38. “Just a Little Obsessed”

Author: eyerys

Summary: Nicholas has developed a tinie-tiny crush on Sabrina. Nothing like major or whatever. It's not like he thinks about her all the time or daydreams about what it would be like to be with her or how cool she is. No, not at all.Sabrina doesn't have a crush on Nick. No, not at all. Uh-uh. She has Harvey. Sweet and loving Harvey Kinkle. But for some reason, she can't help but find her mind wandering. Rated T - Chapters 1/1 - Last Update 12/13/2019

39. “As The Moon Rises”

Author: venzaren

Summary: Sabrina Spellman is tired.Tired of living a double life. Tired of facing discrimination at the hands of her pack. Tired of dealing with her status as an Omega. And most of all, she's tired of people hounding her about finding her mate.Then Nick Scratch returns to Greendale. AU - Rated General - Chapters 1/? - Last Update 12/07/2019

40. “Thirteen Memories”

Author: tempestbreak

Summary: (Set at the end of Season 2) Sabrina and her friends go to Hell and rescue Nick -- but what happens when that's the easy part?It turns out, having the Dark Lord inside your mind for months can do some damage, and Nick comes back different. His memories of the events leading up to his sacrifice, including his relationship with Sabrina, are gone. How can Sabrina help him regain his memories of their time together when she's not even sure she trusts her own? Rated Mature - Chapters 6/? - Last Update 11/02/2019

41. “But The Greatest Is Love”

Author: sarahkwut

Summary: The acheron captured Lucifer Morningstar, but their problems are far from over. The coven is decimated, the Church of Night is no more, Father Blackwood is on the run, and Nick and Sabrina's relationship is in ruins. How do they pick up the pieces and move on? There are more questions than answers and the consequences could be of biblical proportions. Rated Mature - Chapters 25/25 - COMPLETED 10/28/2019

42. “Back to You”

Author: nadiaselite

Summary: Sabrina brings Nick back from hell. Rated T - Chapters 1/1 - Last Update 10/11/2019

43. “The Open Road”

Author: paradiamond

Summary: Nick wants her back, and he’s willing to do whatever it takes. In fact, he insists on it. Rated T - Chapters 1/1 - Last Update 9/22/2019

44. “The words “I love you” aren’t enough”

Author: Miss_Kath90

Summary: “Look at me, Nick” he was reluctant but when he finally looked up she took his face in her hands making him unable to look away “What you did that day… Nick, you sacrificed yourself for my sake, even when I mistreated you and told you all those horrible things. You did it for me, because you love me… Don’t you see? You’re incapable of being evil.”Or... Sabrina gets her boyfriend back but things don’t go as smoothly as she thinks they will. Rated Mature - Chapters 1/1 - Last Update 9/22/2019

45. “Mission: Let’s get my boyfriend back”

Author: My_Evak_Heart

Summary: Sabrina and the Fright Club ventures on their first mission: getting Nick back from Hell Not Rated - Chapters 1/1 - Last Update 9/7/2019

46. “Jealousy is a killer”

Author: Melissa1226

Summary: Will Sabrina and Nick Start something new? and who is watching them from the shadow full of jealousy? Rated Mature - Chapters 8/? - Last Update 8/28/2019

47. “The Jock”

Author: mikaila_ealum

Summary: An Alternate Universe where Nicholas Scratch is Baxter High’s quarterback along with one of the most popular boys at school. With few knowing the truth, Scratch is living a double life as a warlock at the Academy of Unseen Arts. Sabrina takes a hiatus from the Academy to get more in touch with her mortal side. When Sabrina gets back she becomes partners with Nicholas for a project in theatre class. AU - Chapters 8/? - Last Update 8/07/2019

48. “act 5, scene 2 (thou and i are too wise to woo peaceably)”

Author: ghostemo aka @wickedscratch

Summary: When Sabrina Spellman rose to a challenge issued by Prudence Night, she never imagined she’d actually make the varsity cheer squad - or that doing so would upend life as she knew it. Now she has to navigate her new role within the social hierarchy of hell -er Baxter High as well as trying to get her boyfriend to actually communicate. It certainly doesn’t help that she’s been paired up with the annoyingly handsome Nicholas Scratch, captain of Greendale’s beloved football team, for a project in her theater class. It’s exactly as, if not more so, cliche as it sounds. AU/AH - Rated T - Chapters 3/? - 7/25/2019

49. “Off the Record”

Author: sarahkwut

Summary: AU. Detective Nicholas Scratch left New York for Greendale in desperate need of a change of scenery. The small town takes some getting used to, but local reporter Sabrina Spellman quickly grabs his attention. It's the fresh start he needed until Greendale's residents start turning up dead. With a murderer on the loose, no one is innocent - and anyone might be next. AU/AH - Rated Mature - Chapters 29/29 - COMPLETED 7/22/2019

50. “Bring You Close To Me”

Author: BridgetMcKennitt

Summary: Sabrina and her friends managed to bring Nicholas back from Hell. There was a lot the two of them needed to discuss, but tonight, they had this. Rated E Mature - Chapters 1/1 - One Shot - Last Update 7/13/2019

51. “A Brief Moment”

Author: bunivy aka @bunivys

Summary: Ever since he's returned from Hell, Nicholas Scratch has been having nightmares. With help from Aunt Hilda, Sabrina unknowingly shows him a light and for a moment, Nicholas knows everything will be okay. Rated General - Chapters 1/1 - One Shot - Last Update 6/24/2019

52. “To Hell and Back”

Author: swtnerdgirl

Summary: A year has passed since Sabrina and her friends rescued Nick from Hell. No one came back the same. They all had their scars. Some emotionally. Some physically. In the days leading to Hilda's wedding, they all prepare for their lives to change and heal their wounds. Rated Mature - Chapters 16/? - Last Update 6/06/2019

53. “Dead Witch Walking”

Author: rayo aka @its-nabrina-bitch

Summary: Faced with the possibility of being harrowed to death by her classmates, Sabrina finds an escape. Rated E Mature - Chapters 1/1 - One Shot - Last Update 5/26/2019

54. “Moonlight Beneath Rough Lips”

Author: ivylikeveins

Summary: After the encounter with the thirteen witches of Greendale, Sabrina enters the dining hall with moonlight locks bathed in soft blue hues, and Nick does not know what to do. He ends up with a soft and small Sabrina pressed into his chest, sleeping, and wrapped around his very much over-sized jacket with Nick's lips pressed into the soft, pearly strands he wants his soul to get entangled within. Rated Mature - Chapters 1/1 - One Shot - Last Update 5/19/2019

55. “The Hunt”

Author: OnlyInAutumn

Summary: Nick howled into the night, up at the stars to signify that he was ready on the eve of Lupercalia, the darkness of midnight around them. The first sound of the horn sent them into the forest. The hunt had begun. Rated E Mature - Chapters 1/1 - One Shot - Last Update 5/11/2019

56. “Secrets, Secrets are no Fun”

Author: filmharlot

Summary: Sabrina is the new kid for the first time in her life. Choosing to go to the Academy full-time seems to be a hard transition than she was expecting. With the Weird Sisters harassment at an all-time high, dealing with leaving her mortal friend's and condescending teachers, Sabrina is suffering. She's not even allowed to have Salem for comfort. It's not all bad though. She is finally free to do magic whenever she wants, and there's a charming warlock who is being particularly nice to her. Plus, someone is leaving kind gifts on her bed at the end of the night. She just wishes she knew who it was. Not Rated - Chapters 1/? - Last Update 5/06/2019

57. “Unsettled Nighttime Creatures”

Author: mindlesshappy

Summary: We all know Sabrina is going to save Nick. This is how Nick reacts to being saved - which, spoilers alert - is like a very stupid warlock. Rated T - Chapters 5/5 - Completed 4/25/2019

58. “Selfless”

Author: sarahwut

Summary: Sabrina Spellman dragged Nicholas Scratch back from Hell. But Hell might be better than a world in which they aren't together. Rated General - Chapters 1/1 - One Shot - Completed 4/23/2019

59. “Homecoming”

Author: cherrystems

Summary: After several months Sabrina is able to get Nick back from Hell with the help of her family and friends. However, Nick has to adjust to Earth again while dealing with PTSD and anxiety. This tells the story of the growth of Sabrina and Nick's relationship over the recovery time. Not Rated - Chapters 3/? - Last Update 4/20/2019

60. “Under Your Spell”

Author: londonmarie

Summary: Sabrina doesn't hesitate to have her Dark Baptism and things go differently. Rated T - Chapters 10/? - Last Update 4/18/2019

61. “Photographs”

Author: Greyowl9831

Summary: It's been at least 150 years since Sabrina signed her name in the Book of the Beast. One day she finds an old photo album. Will the memories it contains be a great walk down memory lane or will it be more than she can bare? Not Rated - Chapters 4/? - Last Update 4/14/2019

62. “An itch That Needed Scratching”

Author: umbrellacorp

Summary: What if Nick slayed his familiar and Sabrina and Nick got to experience the last night of the Lupercalia festival alone. Tonight, Sabrina would be transformed. Nick was going to show her power that she never knew she had, an innate carnal power. They were about to become the most powerful union of the Church of Night. Rated E Mature - Chapters 1/1 - One Shot - Last Update 4/13/2019

63. “and I keep waiting (but I won’t say I’m waiting)”

Author: lost_n_stereo @lost-n-stereo

Summary: You would think that it would hurt less as the days go by, since it’s been nearly two years since Nick sacrificed himself for the greater good and Lilith took him to hell. Except, he didn’t sacrifice himself for the greater good, he sacrificed himself for her. And that makes it a hell of a lot tougher to let go. Rated General - Chapters 1/1 - One Shot - Last Update 4/10/2019

64. “Fire”

Author: OnlyInAutumn

Summary: Their power—together—was overwhelming. It was something that she had not felt either, the consuming feeling of expanding power. It was entirely addicting. Rated Mature - Chapters 2/2 - Completed 3/24/2019

65. “something I can believe”

Author: Anry

Summary: Missing scene after Sabrina's baptism. I wouldn't say that it's really a relationship here, just conversation. Rated General - Chapters 1/1 - One Shot - Last Update 1/25/2019

AND THERE YOU GO!!!! Have fun everyone, if I missed any Fics or you have any recommendations for the list message me or send in a ask and I’ll add it to the list. Hopefully by the time you’ve checked out some of these stories we will finally know something about Part 4.

#Nabrina #Nabrina Fics #CAOS #Chilling Adventures of Sabrina #Sabrina Spellman #Nicholas Scratch #Nick Scratch

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