#anyway “there is no future/there is no past/i live this moment as my last” is still echoing in my head all the time

[seellove]

X Games // sukuna x female reader // Ski/Snowboard AU

Masterlist

// (3.5k words) // Explicit - 18+

\|/ AO3

You and your husband, Sukuna, visit your vacation home at your favorite ski resort for a ski and snowboarding trip. You get in an argument the first morning with Sukuna pushing your buttons like usual. However, you exact your revenge by teasing your husband throughout the day until he snaps and can't take it anymore.

Content Tags/Warnings Throughout Work: Human Reader and Sukuna, established relationship - marriage, explicit smut, skiing and snowboarding AU

Note about Resort Lingo: greens - the easiest ski runs / blues - intermediate level ski runs / blacks&double blacks - expert level ski runs

AN: It’s cold af where I live and everyone keeps going up to the mountains to ski lol, thus this AU was born

“Sukuna, can you not wear your boots in the house?” you groan as you see him appear in the doorway of your bedroom. He’s all bundled up in warm pants and a coat and those godforsaken snow coated boots that have surely tracked ice all through the house just to become pools of melted water. His rosy cheeks and watery eyes hint at the frigid weather outside.

“I was bringing our stuff inside. Do you really expect me to take my shoes off with every trip I make?” he retorts, dropping the bags on the floor as if to prove a point. You had gotten in late to your vacation house at the ski resort and had only brought the bare minimum inside to get ready for bed. 

“And I very much appreciate you bringing everything inside, however, now there are puddles all over the floor that I’m going to step in with my socks,” you cross your arms and sigh. You feel like you rehash this every time you come up here. 

You know your husband is stubborn and hard headed, but also devious enough to know what gets under your skin and do it anyways. You’ve been together almost 8 years now, married for the last two. You know how he is by now, and based on your past experiences, you know he’s doing it on purpose by the way his mouth curls up into a smirk. 

“I’ll try to be better in the future sweetheart,” he flutters his lashes jokingly before turning around to go back outside. 

You roll your eyes and go back to putting both of your clothes into the sleek dressers. You loved the furniture in the house, Sukuna had bought it just before you got married two years ago and let you lead the charge with the interior designer to fill the space. It was the perfect combination of modern and rustic, well suited for a multimillion dollar house in a high end ski town. 

You hear Sukuna’s heavy footsteps coming back to the room. You tense up at the sound of his wet boots squeaking on the hardwood floor. 

“Sukuna. Take. The. Boots. Off.” you snap at him.

“I am, I’m done now,” he shrugs before sitting down on the side of the bed. 

You clench your jaw at his response, shooting daggers at him from behind. You can almost feel the smirk he’s surely sporting knowing he’s riled you up.

“I put your clothes into the dresser by the door,” you mutter at him.

Sukuna whips around and beams at you. 

“Thanks babe, what would I do without you?” he winks, slicking his pink hair back. You want to slap those face tattoos right off his cheek at the moment. You love him to death but boy he aggravates you sometimes. 

You roll your eyes and head down to the kitchen to get a cup of coffee. It’s spacious and modern, opening up to the living room with floor to ceiling windows, showing off the snowy Mountain View that seems to stretch on forever.

Then it happens, the cold wet feeling of water seeping through your sock. 

You’re gonna fucking kill him.

No, a better idea, get your revenge. You’ve got some ideas up your sleeve on how you can get back at him. You put on your best happy poker face and head back to your bedroom. 

“Honey I got you a cup too,” you place a mug down on the nightstand. Sukuna is in the process of pulling a tight black shirt over his washboard abs, the tattoos that snake down his stomach disappearing as he gets it situated. He’s annoying but fuck he’s hot. He’s gonna get even hotter in a little while…

“Thank you dear,” he smiles, tugging you towards him and planting a kiss on your forehead. He could be sweet when he wanted, which honestly is most of the time with you. You never would have married him if he treated you in the same cold and cocky manner as the rest of the general population. 

You run your fingers down his abs that are visible through the tight base layer, relishing the sharp ridges that indicate how shredded he is. You keep going until you find the bulge in his boxer briefs that is half hard, delicately running your nails along his clothed length before giving it a few good squeezes. 

“Oh fuck,” Sukuna hisses, pushing himself into your hand.

You release him as soon as he indicates he wants more, much to his disappointment. Turning away from him, you walk across the room to get into your ski attire. You make sure to strip down and stay naked for as long as possible, not bothering to look his way, bending down for longer than necessary to fish your clothes out of the bottom drawer.

You hear Sukuna clear his throat behind you, and now you sport your own hidden smirk, knowing he does that when he’s getting restless and turned on. You turn back around so your bare chest is facing him, glancing up momentarily to meet his wide eyes, hand palming himself through his boxers.

“Are you gonna finish getting ready?” you say nonchalantly as you pull your sports bra on, never breaking eye contact.

You can tell his jaw clenches by the way his cheek scrunches up towards his eye. 

“Seems like you might want to finish some other way,” his voice has deepened with that familiar lusty tone. 

Good, everything is going according to plan. 

“We had sex last night, I’m good,” you respond, remembering how in the middle of the night you’d had one of those sloppy, barely awake fucks that sometimes just happen at 3AM. 

“Hmph,” he grunts.

***

You are waiting out on the slope, poles keeping you steady while Sukuna is on the ground, clipping his snowboard bindings in. Another great thing about the house was that it was ski in ski out, something you never dreamed you’d experience until your successful and wealthy husband. 

You’d met him at this very resort during your sophomore year of college. Your college was only an hour away from some of the best ski resorts in the country, so you and your girlfriends had rented a house for a long weekend while some of your frat friends had rented one next door. 

As frat trips usually do, more people show up than anticipated, including Ryomen Sukuna, well known heartthrob with bad boy energy. You knew him as the cocky loud guy that pulled way too many women and did way too many drugs, “DO NOT APPROACH” practically plastered all over him.

Come to find out, he and you were by far the best at snowsports from your large group. You’d kept up with him on a black diamond with ease, proving to him that you could ride with him that day….and that night as you both opted to stay behind when everyone got dinner in town, riding him on the leather couch as he licked and sucked at your tits in his face. You’d snuck around everyone playing this game all weekend, blowing by everyone during the day as you raced down the mountain while Sukuna was blowing his load into you every night. 

It didn’t stop that weekend, and hasn’t stopped since, you were inseparable after that weekend and here you are, eight years later, getting ready to shred your favorite mountain together for the nth time.

You do a few warm up runs, riding the blues near one of the smaller chair lifts to get loosened up. 

You reach the bottom, aiming for Sukuna’s red and black helmet, easily recognizable from afar.

“Ready to go up to the blacks?” he asks. He’s already unzipped his coat, always getting hot when he boards. 

“Yeah,” you answer, making your way together towards the large chairlift to carry you further up the mountain. 

You get settled on the lift together and begin the ascent, your skis and his snowboard clacking against each other as they sit suspended below you both. 

You’ve got about 7 minutes until you get to the top, just enough time to move into your next phase of revenge. 

You take off your helmet and gloves, the cold air biting at your bare skin. Without warning, you slip your hand into his exposed waistband, grabbing his dick which hardens almost instantly under your touch.

“What the fu-ohhhh,” he moans as you start to slowly pump his cock.

You feel the sticky pre cum beneath your skin, slicking everything up, allowing you to more easily glide along his length. His head falls against the back of the chair, making it sway lightly.

You watch his eyes close and his jaw tighten as he starts to thrust himself up into your hand, meeting each stroke of yours. 

You keep up the pace, keeping an eye on how close you were to the end of the ride. Probably another minute. He jerks under your touch, a deep groan leaving his lips. 

“I’m close, keep going,” he utters, eyes scrunching up in the familiar way when he’s about to finish.

That is if you’d let him, which you don’t as you release him and pull your hand out of his pants. 

“Wha’? No, why’d you stop?” he whines as he whips his head up to look at you, a distressed look on his face. 

“We’re almost at the top,” you say innocently.

“We still have like one more minute,” Sukuna says in that same whiny tone. 

You are loving this. 

“My hand was cold,” you lie, “we can keep going on the next ride up.”

“Fine,” your husband huffs, pulling up the lap bar as you approach the exit point. You both ride off to the side so Sukuna can strap himself in. He lays down on his back, staring at the sky.

“Ready?” you stare down at him.

“Gimme a minute, you got me all hard back there and it won’t go away.”

You giggle, waiting silently next to him. After another minute or so he speaks again in his scratchy voice.

“Can you go over there? Or somewhere else? Not here?” 

“Is my presence keeping you bricked?” you joke, giving a sultry tone to your words.

“Fuck off….yeah it is,” Sukuna scoffs, averting his gaze from your eyes. 

You turn your skis downhill, carving your way down the slope until you hit a bend in the run, losing sight of your poor husband. 

You’re sure he’s going to lose it on the next ride up…

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Sukuna ripping down the slope, kicking up powder into the air with each sharp turn he makes. He’s fucking good at this, there’s no denying it. He passes you by and you turn to follow him, both of you carving and weaving your way down the steep slope until you reach the bottom of the first run. 

“Let’s take this lift so we can get back up faster,” Sukuna tugs at your arm.

“No I wanna ride all the way back to the bottom of the mountain,” you say, standing your ground.

Sukuna sighs.

“Alright, let’s go.” 

He turns and leaves you behind, barely missing a child as he recklessly bombs down the hill.

You laugh to yourself as you follow him down, finding him already in line waiting for you at the big lift.

You go through the usual motions: Let the operator scan your pass, push yourselves out in front of the next chair, fall back into the cushion as the seat hits the back of your legs, pull down the lap bar, Sukuna pulls his cock out-

What the fuck? Not part of the routine.

“What are you doing,” you look at him as he pulls his helmet off and sets it next to him, his sweaty pink hair plastered to his forehead.. 

“Can you touch it again?” he’s almost pleading. 

“I thought you’d never ask,” you wink at him as you start on the next phase.

This time you lean down into his lap, Sukuna cursing through his teeth as he realizes what you are about to do.

You take him in your mouth, his skin warming up quickly as you take him all the way to the back of your throat. His dick is so big, even though you’ve sucked him off more times than you can count at this point, it still takes some time to adjust. 

The high altitude makes the air already thin and hard to breathe, his thick cock being down your throat doesn’t help. You bob up and down on his length, swirling your tongue around his tip each time you come up. 

“Fuckkkkk baby,” Sukuna groans as you feel his hand on the back of your head, not pushing down yet but insinuating he’d like it a whole lot if you did. 

Your steamy breath is clouding your vision with each deep exhale. Sukuna has his own cloud above him as he gasps with each thrust into your throat. He’s thrusting up into you again, babbling under his breath.

“Thas right baby, fuckin’ suck my cock, in fron’a all these people. Makin’ me feel so fuckin’ good, fuckin’ love you, holy shit,” he stutters as you feel him starting to harden even more. 

You keep going, knowing he’s getting close. He accidentally kicks his board against your skis as he starts to swell in your mouth. 

“Fuck fuck baby keep goin’, gonna cum ba-“

You pull off with a pop of your lips, his erection staring back at you almost as angry as your husband’s face. 

“Baby! What the fuck! No! Keep going!” Sukuna’s exasperated voice cuts through the low hum of the chair lift.

“It was getting hard to breathe, do you really want me to keep sucking your dick every time I feel like I’m going to pass out?” you use a similar phrase that he used this morning.

Sukuna’s mouth falls open as he glares at you. 

“Is this still about my boots in the house? You gotta be fuckin' kidding me!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you stare at him with calm bold eyes, your poker face so on point.

“You’re such a fuckin’ bitch,” he mutters under his breath as he starts to pout. 

You are doing fucking cartwheels in your mind seeing him all hot and bothered. 

“We’re doing the trees this time,” Sukuna growls next to you. 

“Okay!” you smile.

You love riding the trees, the skill needed to anticipate three steps ahead of you to wind through the forest floor successfully is a fun challenge. 

Sukuna takes off immediately, sailing past the double black diamond sign without much of a glance. You follow him, following his path through the trees. This run is usually deserted, so challenging that it’s almost unenjoyable, so you are a little annoyed that Sukuna went this direction. 

Up ahead you see him slow down and seemingly fall onto his side.

Sukuna never crashes, so you are a little concerned at the sight. You quickly but safely make your way over to him. He’s out of his bindings now, he must have come unclipped.

“Are you ok?” you ask when you come to a stop next to him. 

He doesn’t answer you at first, instead pulling his helmet off, tossing it on the snowy ground.

“What are you-“

But you can only finish that thought with a squeak as he rips your poles out of your hands, jamming them into your ski bindings, releasing your boots from the skis.

He picks you up in one arm as if you weigh nothing, his other arm flipping his snowboard over and pressing it into the snow. 

“Had enough of your little antics on the lift back there,” Sukuna growls into your neck as he bites and sucks on the sensitive skin. You gasp at his dominant actions, clinging your body against him as he shoves his snowboard pants and boxers down to his knees. 

He doesn’t even seem to be phased by the sharp cold air, his one goal now to do the same to you. He doesn’t pull yours down as far, he knows you’re more sensitive to the cold.

“Oh my god,” you moan as he shoves two of his massive fingers through your folds and into your soaked cunt. The moans and cries coming from you slice through the still silence of the forest, no one close enough to hear the way he’s fingerfucking you in the freezing cold.  

He quickly withdraws from you, the sudden emptiness making you whimper.

“Gonna fuck you, ok?” Sukuna groans as he falls backwards onto his board, knees bent so you can lean your back against his thighs. 

The cold snow on your exposed skin shocks you as some gets kicked up from his weight hitting the board. 

“Sorry,” he says, quickly brushing it off of you.

He wastes no time lining you up with his massive cock, slamming you down on his full length until your ass hits his thighs.

“Oh my god,” you cry out at the sudden stretch as his fat tip bullies its way through your walls and slams your cervix. 

Sukuna’s eyes practically roll back as you clench around his length, fingers digging into your hips. He bites his lip as he starts to thrust slowly up into you, each drag of his cock along your walls making you shudder.

The slapping sounds of his skin against yours gets louder and louder as it echoes through the forest. The deep snow absorbs most of the sounds coming from your mouths as he fucks up into you with a punishing pace. Your whole body is at his mercy as you just let him have his way with you. 

Your eyes meet, his own softening as he gives you a smirk. You can feel the depths of his love for you, you can’t explain it, but the way he makes you feel like the most important thing in this moment says it all; the way his eyes look at you with such reverence, the way he keeps your body from touching the cold ground, instead sacrificing his own, the way he shallows up his thrusts when you grimace from the depth, he’s so attuned to you and your comfort always.

You start to feel his thrusts falter, becoming more frantic, losing the rhythm he’d set as he careens toward his release. 

“I’ll make you cum after this at the house,” he says through heavy breaths as you feel his cock harden even more inside of you.

“I’m not gonna cum anyways, too cold,” you chuckle, eliciting a knowing grin from Sukuna. 

“Figured, I’ll take care of you though,” he jokes, as he pulls you down to him, capturing your lips into a desperate kiss, devouring you from the inside as he shoves his tongue into your mouth.

You try to kiss him back, but normally it’s futile when he’s close like this. The man goes absolutely feral and loses all restraint when he’s at the brink of his orgasm, so you’ve learned to just go with it instead to attempt to assert any type of control over the situation.

He grips your hips like a vice as he pulls you down hard to meet a final deep thrust, spilling himself inside of with hot ropes of cum. His pulsing cock throbs against your walls as he empties himself within you, groaning your name loudly. 

He finally stills, the fog thick from both your mouths as you try to catch your breaths. He peppers your face with soft kisses as he pulls you tightly against his chest.

“Holy fuck I love you. That was so hot,” Sukuna sighs, letting his arms fall to his sides, sinking into the snow.

“I love you too, I’m so cold though,” you shiver against his body. 

“Oh yes, right!” Sukuna sits up quickly, pulling himself out of you, his hot cum falling to his lower abs, the steam wafting off as it hits the cold air. He pulls your pants back up and takes off his coat, wrapping it around you.

“Better?” he asks as you fall back into the snow to face him. He’s practically sitting in the snow with his pants still pulled down to his knees.

“Yeah I’m fine, but what about you? Get your bare ass out of the snow!” you gasp at him, worried he’ll get frostbite or something.

“Babe I’m fine, I’m fucking sweating,” he chuckles as he pulls his pants up.

“Even worse! Let’s get back to the house and warm up.”

“Yes ma’am,” Sukuna jumps up and pulls you up easily with him. You both strap back in and quickly make your way back to the house. 

Stopping at the back door, you both remove your gear and lean it against the exterior wall. Sukuna unlocks and goes to open the door.

“Sukuna!!” 

“What?”

“Take your fucking boots off!” 

Masterlist

[pardonmydelays]

thinking about how i can watch my favourite musicals over and over again but seeing them live is something that always changes my perspective completely because suddenly i can see more and i understand more and i find more of the truth inside the art and with that being said i'm literally fucking scared of what seeing hadestown live is going to do to me

[redrook]

adopting a puppy with my husband that (besides being blind) is in otherwise perfect health and is going to grow up to be reasonably small, maybe 40 lbs

and I just got a bolt of sudden existentialism because if we keep her in good health (and we've both had long-lived dogs before) then she could last until my husband is in his mid to late forties

and when our dog finally passes we'll look back and think about how young she was and how young we were like how right now I'm thinking of the reverse

don't really know the words to say it except it feels like I'm living in a past memory and a fixed but floating future simultaneously in this moment

anyway here's the blind puppy I'm adopting with my husband @beemovieerotica

[miifu666]

I finally drew LMK wukong... while also making him yandere because uh.. i like yanderes, we need more yan!Wukong content pls 🙏🥹 anyway Heres my rendition of what yandere lmk sun wukong would be like.. maybe ooc, ive only watched season 1...

Also not proofread— At ALL

⋆˙⟡ — Cw : Yandere, Dub-con, ooc lmk Wukong?, art is wukong x oc but writing is Wukong x reader, not proofread.

I imagine Yan!Wukong to be the type who taunts you about his past actions, how feral and rebellious he was, able to defeat the entire heavenly army and scared the Jade emperor out of his wits just for existing in flower fruit mountain. This only happens when you disobey him ofc, you left the cabin? Denied his wants to feed you himself? Maybe its time to remind you who he is

" See how i was back then? I was a Savage, untamed even if i had that stupid crown around my head. You wouldn't want me to be like that now do you, Peaches? "

He's a sweetheart, Patience and Virtue is a thing he learned the most during his years of living. Yet, unpredictability is also his nature. Especially as a monkey king. There are times when he would tolerate you acting bratty, a bit Defiant is all fun, but when the day comes where he's fought too many Yaoguais, Demons, and Alike. All he wants is your comforting touch soothing him of his worries. The last thing he needs is your uncooperative attitude.

" Peaches... im not in the mood for this. Eat the food. Now. Ive been kind to you. It's either you eat the food or ill get rough."

Wukong is canonically someone who hasnt experienced any romantic nor sexual attraction, the moment he does. He doesn't have a clue on what to do. All he can think of is being in his monkey nature, which includes being possessive, territorial, dominating, and providing you with nutrients. He doesn't trust others enough to help him with his feelings, barely have the guts to ask Bajie if you're in a bad mood. He prefers to wait for others to give him advice (not that he'll take to account).

"MK doesn't know anything, he's a kid! He doesn't understand love like i do... like us adults do. Im doing this to PROTECT you, peaches!"

There might be times where he'll be more touchy than usual, conditioning you to feel comfort and used to his physical affection. Wukong is nothing but patient, he knows how to pavlov you into feeling relaxed once you feel his hands. You'll notice his punishments ranged from letting him groom you, mark you and finally letting him eat you out.

The euphoric bliss whenever he touches you or caught a whiff of your scent is tantalizing, Due to this, he prefers to be the one to serve you rather than you serving him. A king needs his Queen to bleed his heart into, not a concubine who perfoms.

" ah, ah ah~ Remember what i said? You either let me groom your pretty head or i might change things up a little..."

Wukong who gloats about the ring around your finger, making sure everyone. Even the heavens. Know, who you belong to. Theres no such thing as divine intervention, HE willed this fate, HE knit the red threads of fate till it spells your name. Theres an endless amount of love flowing through his heart for you, it seeps through timelines and past reincarnations. Even if your current life is done in this world, he'll continue on finding you. Binding you with him, gripping your heart so close till it beats in harmony with his. He'll make sure to leave an imprint of himself in your soul, even your future consorts needs to know him in order to understand you.

While you came from another world, your own destiny is temporary in his. Wukong will fight tooth and nails to defy the stars just to have you as his permanently. He'll create his own thread. His own happy ending with you.

And if theres anyone who dares to leak the rough details about your hostage love life... hes not known as the god of trickster for nothing

" if the moon and stars are reflection of the past, would they know how many lifetimes have i been loving you before our souls reconciled in this one?

Because i couldn't possibly have just learned to love you this much, all in this single lifetime"

Artwork ©️ Miifu666

Writings ©️ Miifu666

[kyri45]

✨ShadowPeach Bio Parents Bio AU Q&A! 21/11✨

Welcome to the Q&A! A space where I can answer related or similar question about the Shadowpeach Bio Parents AU! If you submitted your ask anonimously, then you’ll have to check the whole post if it’s answered here, if it’s not, worry not! Your asks might have been used for a future comic or just in the queue~

Anonimo ha chiesto: Hi! Would Macaque kidnap Wukong again? I read your comic, the last page, where Macaque is the kidnapping expert. And I'm very curious about it. Anyway, I love your comics! You are awesome.

Haha I don't think they really need it unless they want to do a "traditional wedding courtnapping" but it would be pretty odd since they kind of already live togehter.

Anonimo ha chiesto: I know this is definitely a LONG ways away, but, imagine: Wukong and Macaque playing the newlyweds game. What questions? What answers? Who’s asking the questions? Who’s getting the most right?

I wont list all the lesson but I think Macaque would get most of them right just because Wukong never really changed a lot during the years, while Macaque went through different stages of his life, and and he has new hobbies and tastes.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Will mk have a nightmare about LBD? If yes Then we will have some angst with fluffy monkeys family moments!!!

Oh he has. He has many. Most of them he has while he is at pigsy's.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Can you please shows up a flashback backstory on how MK/Wukong discovered/found out/came out as trans?? 🙏🙏🙏 Banana sundae with chocolate sauce, rainbow sprinkles, THREE cherries, and a super-deluxe one-and-only Monkie King™️ collectible spoon???

Anonimo ha chiesto: will we see any past Shadowpeach?? I’m interested to see how you frame their dynamic back 5en.

Hahah maybe in the future, I'll see

Anonimo ha chiesto: Can we get Wukong telling dad jokes? Please, I’m begging i want to see MK laughing and Macaque just being so disappointed with Wukong yet so smitten. I want to see more Monkey family domestic blissss. 🙏🙏🙏🙏

I don't have my dad jokes book here but man give Macaque an award for the patience he has with these two children

@goofybearclown ha chiesto: Hi :3 Just wanted to say I love your shadowpeach and cotl AU!!! I didn't notice you made both at first but when I did I was like "waow :0". Tbh your works are in my top 3 series on Tumblr! @fenikzia ha chiesto: I love your LMK comic so much, I look forward to reading the new additions to it when they come out every other day,and reading your comic just makes my day better. Even if it hasn't updated a particular day, I make sure to go back and reread the newest part.Keep doing what you're doing and make sure to take breaks! @skye-minecraftyt-blog ha chiesto: You! I like you! Your Bio parents Lmk au always makes me extremely happy and I regularly reread it. ((o(^∇^)o)) Just wanted to say it @blazeandsilver ha chiesto: Hello, I just wanted to say your artwork is absolutely stunning, it makes my day whenever I see that you posted something new to the BioParents comic. Please keep up the good work and be sure to take some time for yourself, you’re important too.

AWWWWWW THANK YOU FOR ALL THE LOVE!!

Anonimo ha chiesto: Hihi shadowpeach au question: You mentioned in the latest comic that Mac is more lean and skinny than Wukong. Will we ever see the full extent of that?? ALSO I ADORE YOUR ART OMG ❤️❤️

A fully naked Macaque you say? Maybe.... who knows....

Anonimo ha chiesto: I come to defend Wukong acting like a man looking at a victorian lady ankles, he hasn’t seen his (ex) husband’s fur in centuries. And he probably hasn’t socialize in years either besides MK and the gang. Romantically he is stunned right? I doubt he has even looked at anyone besides Macaque anyways…

Honestly I like to think that Macaque was the only being in all the universe that was eer able to make him flustered

@mochalikesdrawing ha chiesto: So I got a question, will we ever get to see kaiju MK again?

I have a scene post AU I would like to draw. Maybe.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Ignoring all the angst because it is crushing my soul /pos, I'm lowkey convinced that Macaque knows Wukong feels some kind of way about him because he can hear his heartbeat go crazy at certain moments and isn't dumb, but just isn't calling Wukong on it because he's still trying to sort his own feelings first. BUT ONCE HE DOES OH BOY-

Hahah Macaque knows perfectly well Wukong is down for him. In the meantime Wukong is alwasy afraid he's just imagining things bc he's dense af.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Do you think Wukong and macaque would be cuddling and macaque would be watching something scary and Wukong would be trying to not pay attention to it because he hates scary stuff or would it be the other way around?

yess

@ep2nd ha chiesto: In your shadowpeach bio parents au, if MK and Wukong were created by Nuwa, with Nuwa using Macaque and Wukong as a base, has anyone wondered who created Macaque? And does Macaque himself knows?

Wait Nuwa created Wukong? If that's so I think then all the 5 monkeys were made by her, for some reason.

@boonalina ha chiesto: Sooo what exactly is the courtnapping process like? Is it just a simple "I'm gonna pick you up and carry you away" or is it an entire ceremony? Does someone have to lure the person into place? For example, Mei bringing Redson over to a secluded spot so that Mk can "courtnap" him? (Side note: I've been in this fandom for around two years now, and this comic is what made me find out about courtnapping lol)

I "think" anything that can be counted as like a sneak attack that takes them out of guard and brings them to the designated courtnapped room can be considered as courtnapping technically.

Anonimo ha chiesto: ... Hey so your shadow peach bio parent AU is better way better than season five. WOAH, WHO SAID THAT!! (no but seriously it is like a sitcom I tune on ever so often. Much love 🫶)

Haha thank you! That's a HUGE statement!

Anonimo ha chiesto: I wonder if MK has any unique attributes/abilities as a living mass of celestial material?

He's such a cocktail ofdifferent energies I wouldn't be surprised he is able to glow in the dark.

@cjtuy ha chiesto: I do have a question it's mainly about pigsy and tang when and how long have they been together as a couple and did both of them find mk are they married ?

They have been together for almost a year, but I don't think they are married, but maybe that could happen in the future??? But yeah MK found out a little after season 5 that they are together, that was also the same time he started calling Tang "Papa"

Anonimo ha chiesto: Has macaque added any personal items to the house? Like is he moved in? Have Wukong and macaque improved or changed anything else besides making the bed bigger?

Yes he did! Half of his belongins are in FFM, althought he's a little more minimalistic than Wukong. He also have been bothering Wukong to death so that he can finally organize his stuff (and they were roomates

Anonimo ha chiesto: I feel like if they were to play Minecraft or something macaque would be the base mom. He would be the only one to remember to farm food to not starve. The others would probably forget all the time that hunger is a thing in game. Wukong or Mk: oh dang does anyone have food I'm starving Macaque: (always brings extra for this reason) "sighs" yes

AH!

Anonimo ha chiesto: Remember the Minor Scale episode, from season 2? Where MK learn how to shrink himself? And there’s also the final episode of that season where MK just grow very big to try to fight LBD. I just love that part of his power and I have seen very little people showing it. Like, sometimes that power can show up when the poor boy is experiencing overwhelming emotions that can’t be contained anymore, or pure exhaustion. For example, Having many responsibility can lead to a lot of stress and exhaustion and at some point MK just can’t do more and just become tiny, not able to do more. On the opposite, maybe he experience trauma again through a nightmare (like about azure for example) and the emotional burden is to much and he just becomes big because of that. You see my vision? I love sizeshifting base on emotions :)

Aww and i love emotion-based powers, they are just so easy to play around.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Tbh the show should let macaque have a motorcycle. Wukong gets to be passenger princess

Yesss

Anonimo ha chiesto: as we get into the colder months i like to imagine MK’s first winter coat and he’s all super fluffy and warm

Cool for the monkey parents, bad for pigsy and all the hair in the restaurant from sheeding.

Anonimo ha chiesto: I think it would be so funny if MKs rock hadn't been cracked and he'd been raised on FFM by wukong. If the same thing happens in the show macaque planning to take mks powers thinking he's just Wukongs student but then while macaque and MK are training. Since macaque is so close he notices his ears. (Being raised by a monkey he gets his form sooner) suddenly putting everything on hold busting into FFM and is like WUKONG WTF

There's a fic on AO3 about it it's A Son of Two Dads

@cheese-hommo ha chiesto: Hii, fiesta I want to say I love how you draw and everything, it just looks so cool and beautiful. Now, with the last chapter of Monkey parents Au and so, with the acknowledgement of the demon etiquette and else, DBK and Wukong really misunderstand the comfort scene for a confession? Or something more? It was just so funny seeing the two of them getting so embarrassed at the end 🙂‍↕️

Ah, 2 young demons in their true forms so close to each other, blushing? Scandalous.

Anonimo ha chiesto: I've seen Mk is his Lego merch- he gots a tooth gap- so does this MK have one or did he get it filled?

Wait that was a tooth gap??? I though it was like, a detail of the smile

Anonimo ha chiesto: 🎤 what is your official (if any) opinion on Ink MK? (as a character, plot device, literary parallel, what have you)

It's ok. I personally believe "shadow" version of one character with their own fears and doubts is a clique a little bit too much used. But they give a lot of angst.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Thoughts on Macaque knowing either Japanese or Korean due to him liking anime.

I'll give you one better. Macaque always traveled to Japan pretty frequently during the centuries. Then became a weeb

Anonimo ha chiesto: Maybe it's just me but Wukong looks a bit thicker each time, is it because his fur's thickening or is he getting chubbier ??????? Anyway luv ur art

Both.

[marc-spectorr]

𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝒐𝒓 𝒔𝒘𝒊𝒎

pairing: duke leto atreides x fem!reader

summary: It's the night before your wedding to Duke Leto Atreides and he finds you struck by panic about your future in Caladan.

warnings: 3.1k wc. arranged marriage, panic attack, anxiety, mentions of conceiving. my limited dune-lore knowledge. soft!leto.

a/n: first leto fic ahhh!! i may or may not write more parts to this in the future. i had so many ideas but if i wrote them all in one fic, it would be a long one (not to mention it would take 1001 years to finish and post). anyway, feedback is very much appreciated! hope you enjoy :)

—

Caladan.

There is a beauty to it that you cannot deny. It's captivating from the very first glance. An indescribable sight, unparalleled to anywhere else in the universe.

Of all the worlds you could be in at this moment, a part of you is glad it's Caladan. In spite of the circumstances that brought you here, you try to be grateful for it. Surely, there are worse places to live on than this.

Here, the ocean is vast, stretching far beyond the starlit horizon. A fresh breeze carries the salty scent of the water towards you. It tickles your skin as if it were a feather, the light coolness sending goosebumps along your arms. You tug your shawl more closely around your shoulders.

It is far from the hot desert landscape you know and love. Despite its recent hardships, that planet was once home to you. It still is. You wonder how long it will be before you consider Caladan as such. It's been one week since your arrival, and you're in a period of adjustment, which in truth, has not been too easy.

The beach is empty, unsurprising as the moon has moved far past its highest point in the sky. You can't sleep. You haven't for so long. Similar to all the nights prior, you had tossed and turned endlessly under silken sheets before deciding to go for a walk. You found no comfort in your bed despite the mattress beneath you being the softest there ever was.

It could be the chambers themselves, surrounded by four dark walls that are still very much foreign to you. You must get used to it, you remind yourself. In fact, it's more than just a room that you must get used to.

Tomorrow, your life will change more than it already has when you moved to Caladan.

Tomorrow is the wedding—your wedding. Many esteemed members of the Great Houses will be in attendance, alongside your closest family and friends, who are now worlds away from you. They will all be present to witness you exchange vows with Duke Leto Atreides, a man you barely know.

You exhale a deep, long sigh and draw your knees under your chin. Gentle waves lap onto the shore, the white foam almost reaching your toes before ebbing away. You watch in comfortable silence, the hypnotic rhythm of the waves creating a sense of calm.

Unwittingly, your mind combs through recent events. You spent plenty of these last few days surrounded by those more interested in your upcoming nuptials than you are. You've grown weary of feigning smiles every second in their company, of pretending to be okay when you are far from it.

You feel alone. You are alone.

It’s a sacrifice—leaving behind the life you had to help your struggling home world. Things are changing faster than the time you have to process them. But you can't afford to wait—the sooner you marry Leto, the sooner your father and your people's burdens will go away.

You are doing the right thing. The noble thing. It's what you were raised to do. The last thing you wish is to be seen as a disappointment.

Still, it doesn't mean you have your worries and doubts. You lack experience, having never courted someone before. You question whether or not you would be fit to be a wife to the stranger who is the Duke of Caladan. You're well aware of the responsibilities you would have to uphold, the expectation that one day you will need to bear him an heir…

You shut your eyes, trying to push past the feeling of your heart starting to pick up and thud heavily against your ribs. But the pit of anxiety gnawing at your stomach grows and grows, and it's a losing battle. Not even the ocean waves that mesmerized you moments ago could distract you from the mounting panic inside.

Your thoughts batter you from within like a storm raging out of control. The pressure and expectations others have on you— that you have on yourself— can't be stopped. 

They're too loud; they refuse to be ignored this time around.

Your body trembles, your breaths are short and shallow, and it feels like you are drowning; you're helplessly caught in a dangerous current that pulls you under the water. The weight in your chest drags you down and deeper, sinking and sinking until you hit the very bottom of the depths of your own mind, deprived of any air, any light.

It's only until a voice calls out your name over and over again that you resurface. Warm, gentle hands urge you to sit right back up, and you don't have it in you to fight against them. You don't remember curling up on your side, wound in a tight little ball, nearly burrowing yourself into the sand bed as if wanting to be swallowed whole.

"Breathe, darling... Listen to my voice and just breathe, alright? One... two... three..."

You can't see him, not through the hot, stinging tears obscuring your eyes. But you can hear him. His voice's hazy, soft lull is strangely familiar, yet you cannot place whose it is.

He coaxes you repeatedly, and you focus on his words as if they are your one and only lifeline—as if they are the calming waves reaching the shoreline. 

You do as he says. You breathe.

"One... two... three... That's it, my lady. Deep breaths for me, and again— one... two... three... Good girl, and again. Breathe..."

You're unsure how long has passed by the time your heart slows, and your breathing evens out. Your blurred vision clears once your tears have settled, and your eyes widen when you recognize the face before you.

Duke Leto Atreides kneels beside you, dressed in a manner you have never seen him in. He has on a loose white shirt and dark lounge bottoms, his graying head of curls mussed by the wind blowing past.

You're uncertain why he's at the beach alone at this late hour despite being seemingly ready for bed. Perhaps concerned guards informed him of your wandering about the castle in the dead of night. Did he come all this way in search of you?

Leto’s dark eyes search your face for the reason of your distress. Embarrassment sweeps over your cheeks— you cannot imagine how much of a pitiful mess you look. God, what if you've ruined it? What if seeing you this way, so weak, and frightened, and pathetic, has Leto wishing to rescind his agreement to marry you? What if, what if—

"Hey, shh… Relax. There is no need to fret," Leto soothes. He must have seen the worry in your eyes, but instead of ridicule as you anticipated, he looks at you with concern.

You cast your gaze down, catching sight of your hand in his. He hasn't let go of it since finding you, and when he notices your muscles tense up from the anxiety that seizes your body once more, he squeezes.

Leto squeezes your hand firmly but nowhere near the point of pain. His words are a quiet murmur in your ears. "Don't go back there, darling. Stay here, on this beach. Squeeze my hand back so I know you're here with me. Can you do that for me, please?"

With his other hand, Leto places a finger under your chin to tip it upwards, meeting your eyes. Again, he holds your hand tightly and brushes his thumb over your knuckles. You concentrate on him, matching your breaths to his. The tension starts to slip away bit by bit, and when it does, you finally squeeze his hand back.

"There you go. Just breathe, you're alright," Leto murmurs with a small smile. It dawns on you how close he is when the sound of the ocean becomes second to his voice. "Better?"

You swallow, then nod following a brief pause, not trusting yourself to speak.

Moving slowly so as not to startle you, Leto picks up your shawl from the ground, dusting it clean of grains of sand before draping it over your shoulders.

You expect him to leave, seeing you have regained some semblance of composure. You much prefer that he would. You can't handle explaining to Leto what was wrong. Is wrong.

The air turns silent as you face the water, wiping the dried-up tears from your cheeks with your fingers. You don't see Leto in your peripheral vision, but he's there, watching you. You can feel it.

"Here," you hear Leto say. Glancing to the side, you find him still sitting next to you. He offers his handkerchief, gently motioning it toward you when he senses your hesitation.

With the slightest smile, you accept the piece of cloth, whispering a "thanks" and looking away. 

It occurs to you then that this is your first true moment with Leto. Before today, you had only seen glimpses of him. The most time you have spent with him was during your first encounter, and even then, it wasn't for long.

You chalked it up to Leto having no genuine interest in you. Why would he? He has duties that are much more pressing than entertaining you.

It's not much of a surprise. It would be wrong of you to expect for more. Ultimately, this marriage is not one for love but born out of necessity. A political alliance. A guarantee that your people will be well taken care of. That's the agreement.

Not to mention, you've heard them— those hushed talks amongst the servants and guards about how Caladan does not stand to gain anything from the union.

They are not wrong; many have supposedly expressed concern, including members of the Duke's inner circle. You wonder if he will come to regret his decision one day.

"You've had quite a fright there."

Leto's voice cuts through the silence between you. He shuffles from behind, sitting where he can better see you. You stop yourself from glancing down; it would be rude, and you don't want to tarnish both your image and your family's name even more than you already have.

"I-I am deeply sorry, my lord. You shouldn't have to see that," you manage to get out, catching the way Leto's brows knit together in response.

"There's no shame in such. Why apologize?" he asks you in a soft tone. "And please, there's no need for formalities. Call me Leto. After all, we are betrothed to one another."

Your throat suddenly dries at the reminder that the man before you is your soon-to-be husband. You wring your hands in your lap and give him a nod, skirting from answering his earlier question.

Leto is quick to pick up your nervousness. You can almost see his brain working to piece it all together and grasp what was happening when he stumbled upon you.

You dread what words Leto might say, fearing they will be judgments made against you. You hide from his piercing stare, picking at your nails until a pair of rough yet gentle hands gathers yours, halting you.

Leto squeezes your hands softly, very much like he did before, and it soothes the part of you that has always ached but you could never get rid of.

"You do not have to carry your burdens alone, my lady," Leto murmurs, leaning to catch your eyes once more, and he does. "Whatever it is, unload it on me. Now, tell me what's wrong."

It's almost cruel that your instinct is to doubt him. But if the sincerity bleeding into his voice wasn't enough for you to give him a chance, then it's the tenderness in his gaze. You see the understanding in them, the concern and genuine desire to ease your troubles away.

Your initial perception of Leto has been wrong. You've been wary of him. Intimidated. But this is no man holding no care for you. He could have easily walked away after finding you amidst a fit. Instead, he stayed. He's here when you were convinced he would never find the time to be.

You open up to Leto like a floodgate, admitting to him the thoughts that plagued your mind from the day you learned about this marital arrangement, your nervousness for tomorrow's wedding and your fear of solitude in Caladan in the days that would follow.

You feel selfish, guilty even, for saying all of this out loud. You have no right to complain when the locals here have treated you with only kindness. Others would dream of being in your shoes—of living in a beautiful land, gaining an honorable title, and having a husband who would make you the envy of many.

Why must a blessing cause you great grief?

Leto listens to every word with undivided attention. He lets you speak freely and honestly, never once interfering between your sobs and sentences. He clears his throat only when the whispering waves of the ocean have lingered in the space between the two for some time.

"You are right when you said some of my advisors opposed me marrying you," Leto begins softly, gauging every bit of your reaction as he speaks. "They told me it would bring no benefit to House Atreides—that all we'll do is use up precious time and resources for a dying planet already beyond saving. Their words, not mine."

There is a quiet beat. Leto glances towards the horizon, where the first faint inklings of dawn break through the skies. He continues: "I realized then that those men do not uphold the same values I believe in. Caladan has more than enough riches to go around. There is no humanity in turning a blind eye to people's suffering—especially when we have it in our power to provide aid.

"I've had plenty of disagreements with my advisors, but I couldn't allow those without hearts to remain on my council. My lack of presence is not because I had no interest in getting to know you. Rather, I was ensuring those who showed little care for my bride and her ancestral land no longer served as advisors of mine—a task that regrettably stole time I would have spent with you."

You fall silent. The breath that leaves you seemingly takes more of the load on your being. Your respect for Leto grows. You see now the kind, thoughtful, benevolent man he is. 

How could you have been so wrong about him? You'd been irrational, too assuming. So afraid he would turn out to be the complete opposite when he gave you no valid reason that he's such. You should not have been quick to judge his character when you had known nothing about him in the first place.

"I... thank you, my lor—Leto," you eventually say, turning to him. Shame and remorse cling to your tongue. "I am terribly sorry again. Had my mind been sound, I would've realized my distress is unwarranted."

"Nonsense. You're overwhelmed; your worries were reasonable. All I want is the two of us to be on the same page," Leto replies. The warm smile that adorns his lips when you correct yourself and address him by name lingers. “Let's start over, shall we then?"

You watch as he stands on his feet, reaching out his hand towards you. With Leto's help, you pull yourself up from the sandy floor, shaking off the pins and needles stinging your limbs. He holds his hand out once more, this time for a handshake.

"Hello, I am Leto and welcome to Caladan. It is a pleasure to meet you and an honor to have your presence here."

A smile blooms across your face as you shake his hand, formally introducing yourself to Leto the way he had. "I cannot thank you enough for agreeing to this. I, my father, and our people are eternally grateful for your generosity."

Leto makes a small bow of his head, capturing your hand between his own. Something inside you feels lighter now. The air around you, once thick like water, isn't anymore.

"You will no longer have to worry about your home world. I will make certain they receive all that they need—as for you, as well. I am here for you, even if it's simply as an ear to listen."

A pause. Leto's voice melts a touch softer. He looks at you with eyes deep and brown as the bark of a pine. "In a matter of hours, you and I will wed. It's merely for formality's sake. What goes on between us as husband and wife is nobody's business but ours. Please know that I ask for and expect nothing in return for agreeing to this arrangement. You will never be forced to do anything you do not wish to. Ever. Is that understood?"

You take in Leto's words, becoming aware of the unspoken ones, those hidden between the lines. Their implications settle on you, and you let out a quiet breath of relief into the air.

"I do," you assure before adding, for what could be the hundredth time since Leto has joined you, "Thank you."

“You’re welcome, my lady.”

The sun peaks over the skyline, casting bright golden rays over Caladan. Leto briefly glances in the distance, the silver strands of his mane and beard catching the light, and they glimmer before your eyes. He smiles wide, the lines on his face crinkling as he watches the sunrise.

You also find yourself smiling, spending a moment more studying Leto's profile before turning to what's ahead of you.

Caladan takes your breath away, even more so in the daylight. You can fully appreciate it now that the storms in your mind have passed, and it's as clear as the skies.

"It's a beautiful day to get married." Leto remarks as the two of you gaze out to the water. After basking in the peaceful silence, he meets your eyes again, offering you his arm like a gentleman would. "Come, let me escort you back to your room. We both should rest up a bit before the festivities start."

Nodding in agreement, you quietly say goodbye to the ocean and allow Leto to guide you away from the beach. The sand beneath your shoes eventually turns to a rocky pathway at the foot of Castle Caladan, its grandeur towering over you.

A warm hand slips into yours.

"From now on, you will never feel alone," Leto says, pressing a soft squeeze to your hand. His hold is comforting, and reassuring. “You will always have me at your side, darling. I promise you that."

You smile at Leto, feeling something tender unfold in your chest when he returns a smile of his own.

You believe him, and for once, you think you will be okay.

—

taglist: @pigeonmama

please note that i’m starting a new taglist for my fics. if you would like to be included, let me know :)

[admiringlove]

falling stars. the sixth part of @angstober is here! i really loved writing this one, ugh. anyways, happy reading <3 masterlist of the event can be found here.

being immortal was both a blessing and a curse.

zhongli had always been the god of contracts. it was the essence of his existence, a purpose etched into the very marrow of his being. he wasn’t always the composed, reserved man who carried the weight of centuries with quiet dignity, his gaze heavy with the nostalgia of eras long past. no, once, he had been sharp and unyielding—a man who lived and breathed duty. his loyalty to liyue was unshakable. liyue came first. always.

duty was his creed, his unwavering religion. the god of stone and earth, as immovable as the mountains he shaped. whenever his focus wavered, that mantra echoed in his mind: liyue comes first. duty comes first. it was an unrelenting rhythm that kept his soul in check.

but then, somehow, you happened.

you were the anomaly, the gentle rain that smoothed his jagged edges. he never quite understood how you slipped past the walls he’d spent millennia building. the god of contracts, once as steadfast as the stone he commanded, found himself softened—worn down not by time but by your presence. you were like the tide, subtle yet persistent, shaping him with a patience he didn’t know could exist. his rigid mountains melted into quiet hills, his soul drenched in the warmth of your laughter, the soft glow of fireworks, and a nostalgia he had never allowed himself to feel.

and now, for the first time, zhongli questioned where duty ended and where you began. you weren’t just a fleeting moment in his never-ending timeline. no, you were something far greater. you held his entire existence in your hands, like magic woven into your fingertips. you weren’t just his past—you were his present, his future, everything all at once.

and he hates that he’s slowly forgetting you. hates that he's still here, living, while it’s been eons since he last heard your voice, since the scent of you clung to his memory.

your scent. it was the first to fade, slipping through his grasp as the years stretched on. he remembers fragments—how you always smelled of the river, like the waters of qingce village clung to you. you loved the water, always said it felt like home. he’d once joked that you should have been born in fontaine, where the tides ruled, but you loved him long before you knew who he truly was.

you loved your god, and your devotion to rex lapis was so pure, so sacred, that it unsettled even him. most revered him with fear, with trembling awe, but you—no, you loved him as effortlessly as breathing. it's how he'd found you, standing before his statue, lighting incense in the stillness of prayer. he approached as zhongli, hands behind his back, watching as you offered your quiet supplications.

"did you know he's the eldest of the seven?" he murmured, his gaze lifting to the likeness of himself carved in stone. there was something serene in your posture, a calmness that baffled him. most would pray with reverence or dread, but you. you smiled softly as you waved the incense in the air, placing it at the statue’s base.

"everyone knows he's the eldest," you replied, casting him a sideways glance, "but most people don’t realize that barbatos is the second eldest."

zhongli blinked, a flicker of surprise playing at his lips. it was true—his old friend, the carefree anemo god, was the second oldest, though few knew this because of barbatos’ lighthearted demeanor.

"you seem well-versed in the ways of the gods," he remarked, curiosity piqued as he watched you. you chuckled, the sound light and warm. "my father’s a priest. i suppose that’s why. but i think rex lapis is different from the others."

zhongli’s interest deepened. he tilted his head. "how so?"

"you’ll laugh if i tell you," you teased, a grin tugging at your lips before you looked back at the statue, "but i think he’s a romantic. being the eldest must come with so much responsibility. i imagine he’s tired, weary from the weight of it all. from all of us."

zhongli frowned, something in your words striking a strange chord within him. "but that is his duty, is it not?" he asked, his brow furrowing, unsettled by the way your insight crawled beneath his skin.

you simply shook your head, smiling to yourself. "duty and purpose don’t always align, you know. rex lapis is a magnificent god, strong and wise. but i like to think he’s also present in the small moments, like an old friend. sometimes, i talk to him about my day."

zhongli’s gaze sharpened, a mix of amusement and suspicion in his eyes. "do you now?" he asked, voice low. "then perhaps he’s listening."

"if only," you laughed softly, the sound like wind brushing through leaves. "gods are mysterious creatures. i doubt they have the time to listen to a priest’s child ramble on about their mundane life."

if only you had known how closely he listened, how deeply your words had taken root within him, like seeds planted in the fertile soil of his heart. you were like water—gentle yet unyielding—flowing into the spaces between his thoughts, shaping him without him even realizing. after that day, you became something he could never quite shake, lingering like the soft glow of a lantern after dark—an ever-present warmth, like coming home after centuries spent wandering.

he finds you again, unexpectedly, sitting alone by the harbor in liyue city. there’s a heaviness to your expression, your brow furrowed as your eyes gaze out at the endless stretch of the sea, as if seeking solace in its waves. the wind tugs at your hair, carrying the salt of the ocean in the air, and you sigh—a quiet, resigned sound that makes something tighten in his chest. he watches you for a moment longer before making his way toward you.

"it’s you," he murmurs, his voice soft as the breeze, "from qingce village."

your head lifts slowly, and at first, your gaze holds no recognition, dulled by the weight of your troubles. but then, your eyes widen, lighting up with sudden relief. "you! by rex lapis, am i glad to see you."

his amber eyes, with their distinct diamond-shaped pupils, flicker in surprise. he hadn’t expected that reaction. you press on, your words tumbling out with a mixture of frustration and desperation. "this city is impossible. my father sent me here to assist a doctor with medicinal herbs, but i’m completely lost. and not one statue of morax inside the city! not one! where am i supposed to go every morning to pray?"

a small chuckle escapes him, low and warm, and he tilts his head slightly. "that is true. the nearest statue is just beyond the city’s borders, but it can be a dangerous journey. perhaps... you could join me for tea each morning instead. madame ping brews the finest oolong, and we often sit together in the high grounds before i start my day. you might even find your doctor there."

"really?" your face lights up, like the skies of liyue igniting during lantern rite, a spark of hope rekindled in your eyes. "you’d do that for me? include me in your routine, even though you barely know me?"

he smiles softly, settling onto the bench beside you. "you’re fond of rex lapis, aren’t you? so is madame ping. and so am i. i believe you’d make for good company."

"that’s... incredibly kind of you," you murmur, fingers loosening their tight grip on the straps of your bag, a hint of vulnerability slipping into your voice. "i never got your name, though."

he turns to face you, his gaze steady, the sunlight catching the red liner beneath his amber eyes, making them glow with a soft, almost ethereal light. "zhongli," he replies, watching you carefully, as though gauging your reaction.

you take in a slow breath, your eyes widening slightly as you look at him, something shifting in the air between you, fragile and significant all at once. "you know," you say, your voice a little softer now, "zhongli, you have a very familiar face."

he chuckles, the sound deep and rich, vibrating through the quiet of the harbor. "do i, now?" he asks, a hint of amusement in his tone. "i’ll take that as a compliment."

and so, the friendship between you and, unbeknownst to you, rex lapis began. you spoke of him in the way a devout follower might speak of their deity, yet with a warmth, a familiarity, that zhongli couldn’t quite grasp. it was as if, in your heart, rex lapis was not a distant god ruling from on high, but a cherished friend; someone you could confide in without fear. and that comforted him in a way nothing else had. for once, someone revered him not out of awe or terror, but out of love. someone placed rex lapis on a pedestal for reasons beyond his power, beyond his duty. simply because they cared for him, deeply, genuinely.

perhaps that was why fate had woven your paths together. to teach him that he was more than his role, more than the weight of his eternal duty. to remind him that his purpose did not need to be solely bound to protecting liyue until the end of time. there could be more—there was more.

"i don’t think i can love anyone as much as i love the god of geo," you once confessed, after finally mastering the confusing streets of liyue harbor. the two of you were descending the stone steps after your usual morning tea with auntie ping—though now, you had grown fond enough of her to call her that. zhongli’s brow raised at your words, his steps slowing to match your pace, for you were always a little slower, always taking your time. "what do you mean by that?"

"i don’t know," you sighed, your gaze flickering to the distant horizon, "i have this... strange relationship with rex lapis. i love him. i idolize him. i think of him as an old friend, someone i can share my burdens with. but i also feel that... if someone were to love me, it would be hard for me to return the same intensity. i think it would pale in comparison to the way i love him." your voice trailed off, quieter, more uncertain. "it’s strange. like i said, a strange feeling to have. i don’t even know why i’m telling you this."

zhongli’s eyes softened as he watched you, his lips curving into a gentle, knowing smile. "i believe the word you’re searching for is sacred," he said quietly.

you blinked, surprised by his response, and for a brief moment, you narrowed your eyes at him as if trying to figure something out. because that familiar feeling tugged at you again—like a jigsaw falling into place, though you couldn’t quite see the whole picture yet. the way he smiled at you, the way he seemed to understand. it made your heart skip, just a little.

and, without realizing it, you began to favor a certain funeral parlor consultant over the god you once idolized.

he made you smile wider than you ever had, more than you ever did for rex lapis. zhongli had quietly woven himself into the fabric of your life, so seamlessly that it left you baffled, wondering when it all began. your days started to revolve around him—sometimes even your nights. he would tell you stories of liyue’s ancient history as if he had witnessed every moment himself, painting vivid pictures of a time long past. it left you in awe, admiring him more with every tale, until the realization struck like a wave crashing against the shore.

you had come to love zhongli more than rex lapis.

the thought gripped you with quiet terror. the way his eyes would crinkle with a knowing smile, the way his soft chuckles echoed in the silence after you mentioned your god—it all made your heart stumble, beat after beat. he was hiding something, you knew it. and it wasn’t just you who noticed. even auntie ping, with her ageless wisdom, seemed in on the secret. zhongli had once called her an old friend, but just how old, you couldn’t quite tell.

"how did you meet auntie ping?" you asked one evening, crossing the bridge near the funeral parlor, heading towards dinner. he paused, a flicker of hesitation passing through his amber eyes. "i don’t quite remember anymore," he said quietly, "we’ve simply been friends for a very long time. there was another once, but... she’s gone now. her name was guizhong."

"was she beautiful?" the question left your lips before you could stop yourself. "was she clever?"

his soft laugh carried through the evening air. "immensely," he said, a gentle smile tugging at his lips. "we miss her, every now and then."

"did she..." your voice faltered as you stopped in your tracks. "did she pass away?"

he nodded, a touch of sadness lingering in his expression before he resumed walking. you remained rooted in place, pieces of a larger puzzle scattering through your mind. but it was as if your thoughts grew foggy whenever you were near him—like familiarity slipping through your fingers, just beyond reach. zhongli glanced back at you, tilting his head ever so slightly. "aren’t you coming?"

you murmured a soft “yes” and quickened your steps to catch up, brushing away the weight of your thoughts. "how did morax befriend cloud retainer?" you asked, steering the conversation back to familiar ground. he seemed to know so much more about your god than even your father, things lost to time.

and with every answer he gave, you found yourself more bewildered than before.

your curiosity always brought a quiet joy to zhongli, a chance for him to indulge in your questions, your wonder. at first, he thought nothing of it, simply an opportunity to share the knowledge he had gathered over centuries. but slowly, he found himself captivated, drawn to you in ways that puzzled even him. he started accompanying you outside the city, watching you in silence as you lit incense and knelt before the statue of rex lapis. but today, something was different. your expression had shifted, lips set in a thin, guilty line. like a river running cold, your posture stiffened as if weighed by an unspoken burden.

"is something troubling you?" his voice was gentle, though there was a faint edge of concern as he watched you stare up at the stone likeness of the god. you blinked, shaken from your daze, shaking your head with a quiet denial. but zhongli had known you long enough to see through the facade. "you’re different today. while you pray."

your throat tightened, words tangling within you. how could you admit that the man beside you, the one you’d come to know for mere months, had taken up more space in your heart than the god you had worshipped all your life? it was a storm within you, like water crashing through the valleys of your soul, eroding the bedrock of belief you had built.

"i can’t tell you," you murmured, turning your back to him. "this is between me and rex lapis."

"am i not your friend?" his voice was soft, almost too soft. "am i not as close to you as rex lapis is?"

he faltered then, realizing the weight of his words. what had he just revealed? he hoped the slip of his tongue wouldn’t shatter the delicate line he had walked all this time. you were clever—more clever than anyone he’d known—but perhaps your heart would refuse to see the truth.

yet why had he even said it? he was rex lapis, wasn’t he? so why did it matter that zhongli, the mortal, had become more important to you than the god? why did he feel envy, for his own self?

"you are not him," you whispered, a note of disturbance in your voice. "you are mortal. he is my god."

"he is your friend," zhongli replied quietly, searching your face, "and so am i. if something troubles you, something that disturbs your prayer, why not tell me? i don’t want to see you unhappy like this."

"i can’t," you insisted, your shoulders sagging under the weight of it all. "why don’t you understand-"

"but why not?"

"because i’m in love with you!" the words bursted from you, raw and trembling in the space between you both. your voice did not crack with tears, but the defeat in your eyes spoke of an agony deeper than tears could show. "and you’ve taken up more space in my life than my god. and that... that breaks me."

the confession hung in the air, heavy and unyielding, as if the world itself had stilled in the wake of your words.

"oh," he whispered, his voice barely more than a breath. "i am sorry."

he watched as your face twisted in thought, a realization settling behind your eyes, something heavy and final. "i know," you murmured, turning away, your voice distant. "we should head back into the city before it gets dark."

"wait, i must tell you-"

"no, zhongli." you shook your head, your defeat palpable. "i know you don’t feel the same. it’s alright. i shouldn’t feel this way either. i’m supposed to love him more."

"but i do feel the same," he said, his voice suddenly firm, cutting through your words with a softness that startled you. "i feel the same, so why shouldn’t you?"

your mind went blank. his words left you utterly speechless, like the world had tipped sideways. you blinked up at him, confusion written across your furrowed brows, eyes glassy as you struggled to make sense of what he had just said. it felt almost sacrilegious. zhongli stepped closer, his hand finding your shoulder with the familiarity of an old friend. "it is why i want to spend every moment of my life with you. why i want you to stay by my side until my last breath. is that not fair?"

you stared at him, blinking rapidly, fighting back tears that threatened to spill. how could this be real? how could the man who had become your constant, your guide, feel the same way you did? he spoke again, his voice steady and warm, as though wrapping you in a promise. "if you love morax so much, then let’s draw a contract between us. that you will love me with the same intensity as you love him. and in return, i’ll help you love him more. i will tell you stories about him, i will show you more of liyue harbor, i will take you to the temples, and pray alongside you until your last breath—if that is what keeps you content."

his words washed over you like a tide, a promise carved from stone and time. you felt the weight of it, the gravity of his offer. this man, this mortal, who had unknowingly become the center of your world, was offering himself wholly to you—not in opposition to the god you revered, but alongside him, like two halves of the same whole. it was a contract, a binding of hearts, one that felt as sacred as the prayers you had once whispered at the foot of the statue.

and so another chapter of zhongli’s infinitely long life began. but you were not infinite—you were fleeting, a moment in time that would fade. you aged like the finest wines of mondstadt, while he remained the same: tall, revered, handsome. your hair greyed, lines formed at the corners of your eyes, and soon, you grew older than auntie ping. and then, just like that, you were gone.

the scent of you vanished with the passing breeze, the smell of the rivers from qingce village where you grew up, the fragrance of old history books you lovingly stored, cleaned, and kept in your home. all of it—gone.

but zhongli remembers. he remembers every lantern rite spent by your side, watching the fireworks burst in the sky, but always, always watching you instead. the way your eyes lit up in awe at the colors that painted the night sky—he treasures it more than any celebration. and even after you were gone, liyue continued to bustle, unchanged. and zhongli stayed the same.

he lived on, because immortality was both a blessing and a curse. every year, he would stand on the high grounds, watching the fireworks bloom in the heavens with a weight in his chest that only grew heavier with time. and every year, he thought of you—your boundless curiosity, your devotion that never wavered.

he remembers the day he found your letter, tucked away like a relic, jagged edges and all. the curiosity that once led you to him now led him to unfold that paper with trembling hands. your words were simple, but they cut deep.

you had told him to live a long life—how ironic. as if he could do anything but. to eat well, as if you were still there, cooking for him each morning and night. to drink tea with ping, because you knew the weight of his loneliness. and you told him you loved him, as if he didn't already know, as if he couldn’t feel it in the way you breathed life into everything around you.

and then, what struck him most, what lingered in the back of his mind even after centuries passed, was how you signed it.

"thank you for everything, rex lapis. i leave you with love."

it was the last thing he had from you, and yet it was more than enough to keep your memory alive—because in the end, you had known. you had always known.

in his long life, he had done countless great things, and shall do countless more still. as they say: the waters change course, but the mountains move not.

so zhongli continues to live. carrying your love with him like an echo in his heart, as eternal as he was.

© all works belong to admiringlove on tumblr. plagiarism is strictly prohibited.

[spooky-bunnys]

Hello! well first request and i'm nervous but anyway do you accept an omegaverse? how about bonten with an omega only he is goth like a vampire (if you want you can add something else or maybe a pregnancy if you wish :) ) thanks! (and sorry for my bad english, i'm not english speaking)

Title: Gothic Mood Swings

Fandom: Tokyo Revengers

Pairing: Bonten x Pregnant Goth Omega Male Reader

Warnings: Swearing, and mentions of punishment (not like that y'all)

The guard gulped as the phone rang. Nervous sweat sliding down his face. He knew this was a bad idea but they didn't know what else to do! Soon a click was heard. Nothing was said for a moment until deep voice was heard, "Speak." The guard nervously cleared his throat. "Sir. He closed himself in his coffin and we can't get him to come out."

There was a sigh from the other end. "What happened?" "He tried hanging upside down but got caught up in his morning sickness and got sick everywhere. He then got hungry and searched the cabinets and after not finding what he was looking for, closed himself into his coffin instead of laying in his nest." There was a humming sound and the sound of papers being shuffled.

"Alright we'll be back soon. So keep an eye on him until we get back. Understood?" The guard nodded and quickly agreed as the call ended. The guard let out a sigh of relief. Knowing he won't get too punished for calling his boss. I mean it was for the safety of their Omega and future pup. So hopefully the punishment won't be too bad.

~

Mikey ran a hand through his hair letting out a deep sigh. He had so much paperwork that needed to be done, but his Omega and pup were more important to him. Mikey carefully got up and texted the others to let them know they were needed at home.

On they're way home they made a few pitstops. One at a nesting store. Then next stop was at a store their Omega frequently visited. Finally they stopped at a restaurant their pregnant Omega has been eating so much of recently.

As they arrived at the mansion the pack lives in. Multiple guards met them outside. As they bowed the Bonten members made their way inside. When inside they took off their coats and shoes. Knowing their Omega worked hard on cleaning the mansion. They didn't want a repeat of last time.

Last time Takeomi has came in with muddy and wet shoes. Completely ruining the freshly cleaned floors. Their Omega had been so upset, he literally USED Takeomi to clean the floor. Like we're talking, used Takeomi as a mop to clean the floor. While it aroused most of the Alpha's, the others had be slightly horrified how their tiny Omega used a fully grown MAN, to mop the floors.

They didn't want a repeat of that. Especially Takeomi. After that they put away their shoes so nobody gets hurt. Mikey started up the stairs and the others quickly followed. Wanting to comfort their Omega. They know he's having a rough time with the whole pregnancy. It's been taking a huge toll on them all, but especially on him.

As they arrived to the door seperating the pack from their Omega, they could smell the annoyed pheromones coming from inside. Mikey shared a look with the ones holding bags for their Omega and motioned them forward. Kakucho, Mochi, and Rindou stepped forward.

Mikey carefully opened the door. Making sure they were all releasing calming pheromones. As they all entered there was a slient shuffle coming from the closed coffin in the middle of the room. Sanzu stepped forward and tapped a small rhythm on the lid of the coffin.

A few seconds passed beofre the coffin cracked open. A pair of (E/C) eyes peered through the crack. Sanzu bent down and chuckled. "Alright baby. Come on out. We know your upset. So we got you some stuff." He montions to the others who are holding bags.

The coffin fully opened and a gorgeous male with mid length (H/C) hair carefully sat up pouting. His (E/C) eyes sweeping past his Alpha's. He nods towards Kakucho who carefully placed the bag beside the coffin. Knowing it was warm and didn't want it hurting the Omega.

(Name) smelled the bag and hummed then carefully removed the food. He opened the box and smiled at the spicy yaskisoba inside. Then Mochi stepped forward and set and another bag by the coffin. (Name) carefully opened the bag and was welcomed with a fuzzy black blanket covered in his Alphas sents. (Name) smiles brightly and shoves his face into it taking a deep breath.

Finally Rindou reaches into his bag and held out a stuffed bat. (Name) perked up and quickly snatched it and finally started releasing happy pheromones. The others relaxed and smiled at the happy pregnant Omega. (Name) kissed Rindou's cheek and started purring happily.

Maybe they won't punish the guard for interrupting them today. Since they got to see their Omega happy and purring again. It feels like its been a while. After a few bites of food (Name) turned glaring at the now relaxed Alphas. "Now which one of you assholes has me always craving SPICY FOOD?!" They slumped. It was nice while it lasted.

[reidmoony-toast]

Angel. pt.2 - sr x reader

Reader was shot and Spencer is there when she wakes up

content: fem reader, angst w comfort/ fluff, established relationship, no use of y/n

cw: canon compliant violence, blood, guns, hospitals, talk of death

wc: 2.6k

an: Part 1 is so much better than this but just pretend this doesn't suck! Anyways ily thanks for reading and all the support for pt 2 <33

Part 1

· · ──────────── ·𖥸· ──────────── · ·

“Pacing isn't going to help.” JJ reminded Spencer, as he crossed the waiting room in front of her once again. He halted for a moment, shooting her a dirty look.

She held up her hands in surrender, and he shook his head, continuing his relentless pacing. JJ really wasn't to blame for anything, and he would've felt bad if he had even a single neuron that could think about anything other than her.

The artificial lights glared down at him, and the smell of ammonia radiated from every surface, making him dizzy and giving him a painful headache. He hadn't had one this bad since... Since Maeve had helped him.

Bone-chilling dread washed over him. This couldn't end like Maeve. He refused that repeating narrative. He needed this time to be better, he needed her to be okay. The other option—he couldn't accept it. Not again.

A nurse walked in, and Spencer straightened, while JJ shot from her chair. “Is she okay?” JJ blurted.

Spencer said nothing. He hadn't said a word since he held her hand in the ambulance, whispering the words ‘stay with me’ over and over again. He hadn't spoken again since her hand went limp in his own.

“She's still undergoing surgery, so I can't say for sure, but she's a fighter.” The nurse replied politely. Spencer wondered how many times she's had to say a version of those words today. How many of those others didn't pull through.

“I will make sure to update you when I have more information.” She paused, staring straight at Spencer. “I need some paperwork filled out. Are you the husband?”

“Boyfriend.” His voice cracked as he used it for the first time in two hours. “She's, uh– my girlfriend.”

The nurse nodded in understanding. “I'm guessing you're still the next of kin, so I'll get you to fill out this, if that's okay?” The nurse asked softly, holding out a clipboard and pen.

He wanted to answer with ‘no’. That he didn't want to fill out a stupid form while his girlfriend was dying in the next room, but he nodded anyway, taking the clipboard in his tired grasp.

‘Girlfriend’ was never a strong enough word. She was his life force. His everything. The soul perfectly intertwined with his own. There was no word in the English language that could ever properly describe what she was to him.

The velvet box tucked into the back of his sock drawer would have made her Spencer's fiancé—which was by far a better word—but he supposed it was too late for that. The whole future they had planned for themselves was very likely to not come to fruition.

That thought alone made his heart ache, and his lungs feel like they were on fire—an agony like no other he had ever experienced.

He finally sat down, and began the futile attempt to fill out the pages of forms in front of him. It was almost impossible to focus, and he'd only written her first and last name before he laid the pen down, unable to continue.

Spencer's breath was still uneven and rattly, and his hands started to shake.

The past two and a half gruelling hours had been a tailspin into the depths of hell, and he felt as if he couldn't catch his breath, no matter what he did. He wasn't surprised, though.

He felt the breath from his lungs completely leave him when he saw her, lying in that car park, and it never returned again—as if her not being near sucked all the oxygen from the air around him. He was now living on borrowed air, and that air would run out if he never saw her again.

Spencer swore he could already feel his organs beginning to shut down, decaying from the inside out. Like they knew—they knew he would never survive if she didn't make it.

It just wasn't in his nature to live without her.

Spencer glanced up, and came face to face with his own reflection in the glass windows lining the sterile waiting room. A pale, gaunt face stared out at him, a man he could almost not recognise—if not for the fact it resembled his past self. The one on drugs. The one in prison.

A dried and flakey red substance lightly dotted his lower cheek—a bit of her blood he must have missed when he hastily wiped his face with his jacket sleeve.

Spencer looked down at his hands, properly, and saw that they too, still had blood on them—caked around his knuckles, between his fingers, under his fingernails. Places where JJ's gentle cleaning with a hospital rag had not reached.

It was fitting, really. He had blood on his hands. Literally and figuratively. If they had stayed together instead of splitting up to cover more ground, if he had noticed her absence sooner, if he was the one who went into that carpark, she would still be right here. Happy. Healthy. Breathing.

He knew JJ would scold him, say it wasn't his fault, but the guilt consumed him, washing over him in great waves—but, unlike the tide, the feeling didn't recede. Instead, it grew, like toxic mould on a dingy bathroom wall. Festering and rotten.

He couldn't help but feel that he was partly to blame. Everything he touched usually broke, so this didn't feel like an unrelated incident. It was always his fault.

A hand was placed gently on his shoulder, and he glanced up from where his head was hung to see JJ, sympathetic look on face, twisted with grief of her own.

He didn't reject the comfort, instead he brought his own hand to hers, squeezing it where it rested on his shoulder. He might not have shown it, but he was glad she was here. He probably wouldn't have been able to keep it together this well if he was alone.

Her company brought him a sense of comfort—knowing someone else cared for her, and for him, as well, made it substantially more bearable.

After a millennia, footsteps echoed eerily in the empty hall towards the waiting room, and they both snapped their gazes towards the door. The nurse hurried into the room, and they both sat, with bated breath, for the news that would either heal or break their whole world.

At least, Spencer's whole world. JJ had Will, Henry and Michael, and the rest of the team had their own families. They would be upset, but they would have a shoulder to cry on when they ventured home. He wouldn't. If he lost her, he had nothing left. Nowhere to call home—because she was his only home.

“It was touch-and-go for a while there, but she's out of surgery and in recovery. I can take you to see her, if you would like.” The nurse gave them a warm smile.

Spencer's heart felt like it finally started beating again after three hours, eight minutes and forty one seconds, like he wasn't fully alive in that time when her life was on the line. His entire body warmed, from head to toe, with all-encompassing relief. She was okay. She was alive.

It all felt too good to be true, like his brain was wired to always assume the absolute worst outcome possible. He had been living like she was already dead.

A breath escaped him, but his lungs still couldn't take in air properly. They wouldn't, not until he saw her with his own eyes.

“Yes. Please.” Spencer quickly added on the end, finally remembering the meaning of the word ‘manners’. The nurse nodded, turning on her heel to lead them to her.

“She's stable, but she'll be unconscious for at least a few hours.” She informed, stopping in front of a frosted glass sliding door that led to a private room. To her.

“Thank you.” He said quietly, and the nurse nodded in acknowledgement, setting off down the quiet corridor. Spencer’s heart raced, and he carefully peeled open the door, stepping into the room.

It was small, walls painted white, linoleum floor worn from foot traffic. A continuous beeping sounded around the room from the many machines monitoring the motionless figure laying on the hospital bed, covered by paper-thin sheets.

It was her. She was really here. Really alive.

He fell heavily into the rickety chair beside her bed, gaze not leaving her peaceful face. Even on the brink of death, she was the most gorgeous being he’d ever laid his eyes on.

He sucked in a deep breath, filling his lungs completely. They were working fine now, because hers were. He could see the slow rising and falling of her chest, and it brought him the most comfort of anything in the entire world.

Spencer reached up, cradling her hand in his own, brushing his thumb over her cold skin. That made him disproportionately heartbroken—her hands were usually like little hot water bottles, and Spencer often remarked about how inhumanly warm they were. Now, his hands warmed hers instead, and it felt wrong.

“I'm going to go and debrief with the rest of the team.” JJ spoke up from her position near the door. He had almost forgotten about her presence, and he nodded in acknowledgement, thankful for her obvious move to give him some time alone.

“Thanks, JJ.” Spencer said simply. She gave him a small smile, and left quickly. He didn't need to explain himself, because she knew what he meant. Thank you for staying with me, thank you for caring, thank you for giving me space, thank you for everything. She understood it all.

The door slid shut, and his attention was back on her. All that was important. His whole life was lying, unconscious, on the bed in front of him. But she was there, and that was more than he could ever ask for.

He brought her limp hand to his lips, kissing the smooth skin softly, eyes closing, as the first lone tear made a path down his cheek—the first of many. He cried for the first time today, silently, her hand still clutched tightly in his own.

~☆~

The first thing I felt when I faded into consciousness was pain. A deep throbbing sounded from my side, albeit less than my last memory.

The approaching sirens, and disjointed flashes from inside the ambulance. And in all of it, there was Spencer. Every moment I could remember, he was there. Always. Never leaving my side.

I cracked my eyes open, taking in the bare walls and bright lights of the hospital room. My vision swam in and out of focus, eyelids heavy.

I felt a weight on my arm, and looked down to see a mop of brown curls splayed over the scratchy linen sheets, head bowed and my hand clasped in both of his. Spencer was here. By my side. Forever and always.

He was bent over awkwardly in the little plastic chair beside my bed, and I couldn't help but think how uncomfortable he must be.

“Spencer.” I rasped out, limbs too heavy to reach out and run my fingers through his hair, like I so desperately wanted to do.

His head shot up quickly, seemingly not as inert as I thought he was. He squeezed my hand gently, lips lifting in a tiny smile of relief, expression unbelievably soft.

“Angel.” He breathed in awe, like he couldn't quite believe his eyes. “You're awake.”

“Hi.” I whisper, gazes never untangling from the snare they both found themselves trapped in.

“Hi.” Spencer echoed, taking one of his hands from mine to reach up and oh so gently tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear. He moved it to carefully cradle my jaw and cheek, breathing my name like it was divine. I melted into his touch.

“My girl.” He murmured with reverence, studying my face intently, like I was something to be treasured. Like I was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. I could disagree completely—I almost died, so I was most definitely not looking my best. “How do you feel?”

“Like I just got shot.” I said dryly, voice hoarse. “I must look it, too.”

“You look perfect.”

“Liar.” I rasped, snorting. He narrowed his eyes, like he was about to fight me on the issue, but I interrupted.

“How long was I asleep?” I asked quietly, vocal cords upset from disuse. Or from the blood in my throat. I could still feel myself choking, airways blocked with my own blood.

I remembered the light-headedness from losing too much blood from my body. I remembered the warm blood pooling around me, soaking my clothes. I remembered, as clear as day, what dying felt like.

Spencer’s answer snapped me out of my dark thoughts.

“From when you exited the ambulance, it's been five hours and fifty-four minutes.” He recited immediately. I was impressed, but not surprised. It was Spencer, after all.

I hummed in acknowledgement, before silence fell. Spencer's bottom lip quivered slightly, and I wouldn't have noticed, if not for my constant staring. I frowned deeply, chest tightening. Seeing Spencer upset was incredibly hard.

He was a stoic man, rarely showing his sadness. When he did, it was only in the worst of situations. And now, seeing his palpable misery was beyond heartbreaking.

“I thought I'd lost you.” The almost unintelligible confession sounded after a beat. I wouldn't have heard if I hadn't been anticipating his response.

Spencer ducked his head, avoiding eye contact, and no doubt hiding his emotion. His whole body shuddered when I laid my free hand in his hair, smoothing his curls soothingly.

“Spence, hey.” I tried to coax him into looking back up at me, not wanting him to repress his emotions. I knew why. He was most definitely thinking that he was the one supposed to be comforting me, not the other way around. Which, was completely false.

“I'm here. I'm okay.” I reassured. He finally lifted his head again, and a pang was sent straight to my heart when I saw tears pooling in his eyes.

“You don't have to hide, okay?” I brushed away a tear that broke from his lashes and rolled down his cheek. “It's understandable that you're a mess.” He let out a huff, and I gave him a knowing smile.

“I've been asleep the whole time, and you've been here for five hours and fifty-four minutes.” I repeated back his numbers, and it pulled a tiny smile from his lips.

“Don’t downplay it, you were the one dying.” Spencer scolded, but without any heat.

“I would be a puddle on the floor by now, if it had been you.” Instead of giving him comfort, my words made his face fall again.

He screwed his eyes up, like he was in physical pain, hanging his head once again.

“It should have been me.”

“No.” I answered immediately, tone sharp. I grasp his face in both hands, ignoring the burning in my side. “Don’t say that.”

He didn't reply.

“It was not your fault, you hear me?” I voiced firmly, gaze flicking over his face. “Don’t.” A trembling breath followed.

After a long pause, he finally conceded.

“Okay.” He said shakily, eyes not leaving mine. My stare softened, satisfied with his answer.

“Good.” I pushed back the hair that had flopped into his eyes, moving my hands further into his curls. He sighed at the movement, lids fluttering shut as I dragged my fingers across his scalp. I hummed contentedly.

Bringing his face to mine, I kissed him gingerly. He lifted his hands up to cradle my own cheeks, pulling away only to press his lips to my forehead in a prolonged kiss, seeming to just breathe me in.

“I love you.” I whispered into the air between us.

“I love you too, angel girl.”

· · ──────────── ·𖥸· ──────────── · ·

Thank you for reading, feedback is appreciated x

Tags: @reidology13 @reidmania @navs-bhat - comment to be added!

Masterlist ౨ৎ

[quietzap]

how do you navigate your feelings towards ziam and cheryl/bear/kate/maya on top of this immense grief? i don't mean to be insensitive but i haven't found an answer for myself yet, i can't believe we'll never get answers now

(To anyone seeing this, read until the end before saying anything thank you.) Well. I'm gonna ramble a bit but bear with me. Spotify played Let Me and Common on shuffle the other day and I cried a bit. It's unfair. It should've never ended this way. But I had already accepted ages ago that we might never know the truth. I still have my beliefs. That Zayn and Liam were together. Maybe they had broken up who knows but if they did then I still truly believe their bond was a once-in-a-lifetime thing. I've gone through so many emotions this past week. But seeing the posts of cheryl etcetc or people mentioning bear (Zayn was the only one who didn't fwiw), it didn't make me feel anything. Maybe bc I had already accepted we couldn't do anything about the stunts, and/or maybe bc it's still difficult for me to accept he's really gone or bc it doesn't matter to me at this moment. Or bc I haven't actually sat down to think about what it means that he's gone. I've just been thinking of the pain all of Liam's loved ones are in right now and will be in for the foreseeable future. And I include Zayn in this. I also don't really want to think about it bc I think I might get angry. We've all seen Liam's video on snapchat from last month, where he said he was stunting and forced to do things he didn't want to do and to send help. I often used to say that I didn't understand why the boys accepted this situation instead of just getting out, consequences be damned. Ofc it's easier said than done. But I thought maybe they thought it was worth it in some way. But then, Louis got out. Zayn got out. (In some way, I mean they have privacy and a real career, like Niall and Harry). I guess I will never understand why Liam was still the only one so stuck in this shitty situation. Why couldn't he live his life in peace like Zayn and only appear when he released music? Why couldn't he find a better team or why did he even accept to go along for so long? Why did people let him? Why?! That's what I want to know. Fucking why. And I want Liam's image/reputation to be redeemed. Anyway I digressed I'm sorry.

I just sincerely hope Zayn will be ok. Jaymi who was in Union J lost his soon-to-be-husband a couple months ago (Olly was buried the day they were supposed to get married last month). They'd been together for 14 years. And Olly died in similar circumstances (a fall from the 3rd floor of a hotel). And as incredibly awful as this is, knowing that other people are going through similar grief helps a bit, and I hope it will help Zayn and Liam's loved ones know they're not alone. (Edit: I'm not saying these deaths are linked, Olly's death is an accident, Jaymi was there when it happened. This paragraph is about not being fully alone in grief because other ppl go through similar things).

Idek if I've answered your question. I guess basically the stunts don't cross my mind coz it's not important to me. These past few years when Liam was alive it wasn't important (tho I hated it) bc I accepted the boys made their own choices. And now it's not important bc it won't bring Liam back and bc his loved ones matter more to me. Now, if I'm actually wrong about my beliefs then it is what it is and I feel for his exes/gf/child, and if the maya thing is true I still think addiction made him act that way and that if he'd got a chance to really get better this wouldn't have happened again. If I'm not wrong tho, I truly feel for Zayn who doesn't get to grieve the way he deserves to. Tho I'm glad he has loved ones who know the truth and who can support him the right way.

I hope this helps. Feel free to tell me if you want to discuss this further or anything ❤️

(Link to the videos of Liam from snapchat: x)

[j2hoes]

Hopes And Fears Part Three. (Wally Clark x Reader)

Summary: Y/N’s death is traumatic. So traumatic in fact, she can’t even look at Wally without reliving what happened to her.

Word Count: 2.4k

Gif Not Mine. Requests Are Open!

Warnings: Mature Language

I’ve grown fond of the early mornings whilst stuck at Split River. The first glimpse of the sun shining over the gardens, a warm hue welcoming the day. With no students roaming the halls, all I hear is the quiet sounds of nature. On the odd occasion, I’m even able to spot a rabbit or deer, grazing gently on the acres of freshly trimmed fields surrounding the school buildings.

It’s become a habit of mine, each morning I find myself lounging besides the flowerbeds. Allowing myself to feel each blade of grass that delicately brushes my skin. For a while, I forget that I’m no longer alive. I can simply exist.

It’s not uncommon for Wally to join me. Sprawled on his back, gazing up at the clouds. Pointing out different shapes and imagining different backstories for all of the cloud animals he sees. Besides that, neither of us speak much. Only enjoying one another’s company as we relax in the morning light.

Spending this time has given me the opportunity to process everything. Wally helps me to work through my emotions and thoughts. Nothing ever being too much for him to listen to, though I’m still afraid to divulge everything. I’m sure he can sense that I’m holding back, yet he doesn’t pry. Content to just listen. In all honestly, I truly believe that these moments with Wally have helped me more so than Mr Martin’s support group has. Despite attending every session since my memorial, I consistently leave the group feeling unfulfilled. Unsatisfied. In fact, it doesn’t seem as though the teacher wants us to discuss the past, our lives and our deaths. Only wanting us to focus on the present, the state we are confined to. I find myself struggling with this a lot.

“What do you think you would be doing if you hadn’t died?”

Pushing myself up on my elbows, I look over to Wally, who is resting on his stomach, absentmindedly plucking grass from the ground.

“I was supposed to go to college, play football. Hopefully make it pro, that’s what the plan was anyway.” He tells me, full of confidence yet his tone of voice suggests that’s not the pathway he would’ve chosen for himself.

“What about like outside of a job though?” I pry, the boy has my curiosity heightened. “Like, surely you have other things that you wanted to do?”

His eyes focus in on the pieces of grass that he’s now twisting together in a makeshift sort of chain. Deep in thought, I can see the cogs working in his brain as he tries to think of an answer for me. I’m sure it’s not something he’s necessarily thought of before, following the path that his mom set out for him upon birth.

“You’re gonna laugh, but I always wanted to get married and have a family. I know that times have changed and you lot don’t really believe in marriage and stuff that much anymore but I’m a family guy. Always have been.” He admits, finally looking at me and I see the honesty written across his face. “It just sucks that I’ll never actually get to experience it.”

My heart aches for him. One fatal accident and his entire future was stripped away. Never getting to experience the things he always dreamed of. It breaks heart, knowing what he could have had.

“Wally, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s no big deal, really, I’ve spent the last few decades accepting my fate and it’s not so bad here.” He tells me, a sadness shining in the brown of his eyes, trying his best to cover it up with a soft smile. “What about you? Other than taking over the world with your best friend, what was the plan?”

Giggling slightly as he references Abby’s speech, I start to wonder what my life would’ve looked like. Truthfully, I have no idea. My life revolved around dancing and cheer, other than that I have no clue as to who I am. Up until my death, I didn’t believe I was worthy of love, the one chance I took was with Spencer and look how that turned out.

“I suppose I wanted to leave Split River, Abby wanted to go to New York so I figured I would study there.” I reply, knowing New York was never my dream. I just couldn’t bare to part with her once high school ended. “It would be quite nice to live on a farm. Out in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by animals, I think that would’ve been my dream.”

“Now this makes sense.”

Crossing my legs underneath me to sit up properly, he’s unable to hide the bright smile on his face. Clearly finding some amusement in what I said.

“What makes sense?” I ask, to which he laughs quietly. Pulling a clump of grass out of the ground, I launch it in his direction. “Hey, you dickhead, I didn’t laugh at you, so you can’t laugh at me.”

“No, no. I’m not laughing at you.” Wally speaks through chuckles, rolling on to his back. “It just makes sense now why you like to sit out here.”

His arms are thrown across his face, shielding his eyes from the sun. I can’t help but stare as his muscles flex, admiring the sight in front of me. Following his body, I find myself biting the inside of my cheek as I notice his top has risen up his stomach ever so slightly. Highlighting the small trail of hair that dips below his shorts.

“Did you have a girlfriend?” I blurt out, before I even realise what I’m saying.

Slapping my hand across my mouth, embarrassment floods my body, eyes wide as Wally smiles. Eyebrows raised as he looks over to me. Sly smile making its way on to his face.

“No. No girlfriend. Why?”

“I was just wondering. I mean, star high school quarterback, you must have had girls queuing up for your attention.” I’m able to stop myself before I begin a long-winded rant. Helping to ease at least a tiny amount of my embarrassment.

Wally rolls his eyes at my comment. “Well in that case you must’ve had boys queuing up for your attention. What with being head cheerleader and all.”

“Ha ha. Okay, I know it was a stupid question.”

Fortunately for me, I’m saved from making a fool out of myself even more by the sounds of cars entering the parking lot. In unison, we both turn to face the sound. Observing the students that have started to filter into the building, chatting loudly amongst one another as they do so.

My vision locks in on Spencer and his gang of hooligans. They’re jumping all over one another without a care in the world as they make their way into the school. Trail of awestruck girls following behind in the hopes of garnering the smallest amount of attention from one of the jocks.

If only I was able to tell them what they’re really like. Perhaps they wouldn’t make the same mistake that I made. Perhaps I’d be able to save them from the same fate that I suffered.

“So I was thinking we could have a pool day. I think Charlie would be up for it, maybe not Rhonda, but it could be fun for us all just to chill out. You haven’t really spent much time with anyone else apart from in our sessions with Mr Martin.”

Wally’s words echo around my head though I’m not paying any attention. Despite, no longer being able to see the group that I was fixated on, I’m still closely watching the area that they had just previously been walking through.

Two weeks later and Spencer and his friends still evade justice. Police presence at the school has increased drastically with crime scene investigators cornering off the old toilet block. Maybe I’m impatient, but it feels like they’re getting away with it. Receiving no consequences for their heinous actions.

“Y/N, are you listening?”

Wally’s words finally drag me out of my thoughts and I meet his eyes. “Yeah, pool day, sounds good.”

“And we’re inviting Charlie and Rhonda.” He states, eyebrows raised as he knows I wasn’t truly paying attention to a word he said.

“Oh, no. They’re nice but can we just do it alone? I’m not sure I feel up to doing a whole group thing.”

Wally nods, though his eyes narrow. Sensing there’s something off with me. He’s good at noticing whenever my demeanour changes, or whenever something is bothering me. It’s part of his nature.

“Yeah of course. We should probably head to group first though.” The athlete pushes himself off the floor as he speaks, waiting for me to stand as well which I reluctantly do, not before releasing an annoyed groan. “You know, one of these days, you might actually enjoy the sessions.”

Rolling my eyes, I follow Wally towards the gym. He holds the doors open for me as we enter the building, his small act of chivalry makes me giddy. I make no effort to show this however, politely thanking the boy as I walk through.

“Ah here they are! Took you two long enough.” Charlie jokes as we enter the gym, taking our seats. I sit between Dawn and Rhonda with Wally seating himself between Charlie and Mr Martin.

“No guesses what they’ve been up to.” Rhonda comments, lollipop hanging out the side of her mouth as she does so.

“Thank you Rhonda.” Mr Martin chimes in, stopping the conversation from escalating any further. “So today, I figured we would get to know our newest member. Y/N you’ve been here for a couple of weeks now and we still don’t know too much about you.”

“I’m sure Wally could tell us all about her.” Rhonda remarks under her breath. So quiet, I almost don’t catch it.

“I’m sorry, is there something you want to say?” I snap, my tone harsh and confronting.

She laughs in response, the annoyance on my face evident as I glare at her. Her snarky and sarcastic nature hasn’t proven to be a problem for me, though I think that may be about to change.

“Y/N, tell us about your death. We’re all dying to know what happened. No pun intended.” The teacher interjects, attempting to diffuse the tense situation yet I still feel on edge.

“No thank you.”

“Oh come on Y/N, none of us are going to judge you. You know that.” Charlie tells me, offering me a reassuring smile.

“No, she’d rather just listen to all our trauma. Isn’t that right cherry pop?”

Rhonda’s words strike a chord within me. I’ll admit, the other ghosts have been very open about their deaths with me. All discussing in detail what happened to them to result in this fate. Sure, I haven’t divulged into the details of my death as of yet, but it’s for good reason. Not only am I still trying to process it myself but I don’t want them to look at me any differently nor do I want them to take pity on me when they learn the details.

“Do you have a problem with me or something Rhonda?” I ask, swinging around in my chair so that I can face her directly.

Upon doing so, I take note of how Charlie and Wally are quick to sit up straight. Feeling the anger radiating off me and awaiting any possible confrontation that may be about to occur.

“As a matter of fact, I do.” The girl retorts, crossing her arms over her chest before she continues speaking. “You waltz in here and make no effort with any of us besides Wally. Who, let’s not forget, you made to feel like a piece of shit on your first day after that unreasonable outburst. You listen to all of us recounting our deaths, the most traumatic things that could’ve happened to us and still none of us know what happened to you. It hardly seems fair.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry Rhonda. I’m sorry that i’m still processing what happened to me. I’m sorry that I’m not ready to discuss it with a group of strangers. I am so sorry that I’m not getting over everything as quick as you would like me to.”

My voice is raised as I speak, hurt that she would even think that my choice not to share what happened is a personal attack on the group. No matter how hurt I’m feeling, the anger completely outweighs it. Angry that she can’t see that I’m still struggling and angry that my murderers are still attending this school. Instead of being locked behind bars for the rest of their life, like they deserve to be. Nobody can understand what I am going through and that makes me so astonishingly angry.

“Boo hoo. You’re still processing, we’re all still processing. Not to mention the fact that we’ve barely seen Wally these past couple of weeks because he’s been trailing around after you, trying to make you feel less threatened by him. He’s even taken off that stupid football shirt that he loved so much! I hate to break it to you, but he was here first.” She argues, tears well in my eyes as she mentions Wally. I lock eyes with him and see his downcast expression. Was she right? Was he only spending this time with me to make me feel better and less scared? “You should do everybody a favour and fuck off back to the old toilet block where you came from.”

“Rhonda!” Charlie exclaims, clearly shocked by her words.

“Is that how you really feel Wally?” I ask hesitantly, the dejection evident in my voice.

He opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out. Nodding slightly, I understand completely. Pushing myself out of the chair, nobody speaks as I make my exit from the room.

“Lovely chat.” Rhonda shouts, one last attempt to get a reaction from me. Even as I shove open the doors with an obnoxious slam, I don’t look back.

The entirety of my body feels heavy as I drag myself down the hallways. Nobody comes after me, not even Wally. I feel truly alone, hurt and confused. Death was supposed to be peaceful and yet here I am. Suffering more than I ever did when alive.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Tag list:

Please just ask if you would like to be removed. :)

@p-rspective @criesinlies @bath1lda @prettyplant0 @backtotheshitshow @emrysaf @lyn-soso @agentsofwhat @stumacherisalive @xyzstar @ellatitanium @nymwritespoetry @katdahlali @fruityfrog505 @kaiyahs-wife @callsignwidow @hufflepufffangirlqueen @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @blissfulxsins @stainedstardom @pearlsyeaaa @sisterslytherinog @random-simper @highpriestessfae @softbabybunnyysstuff @alexayoonlee @marvelsbitchh @urchubbygirlpen15 @frogmanfae @okitrine @brairslair @tommyriddleobsessed @correlance @pinkstrawberryflower @ameliamarie50 @esmerayxx @caprisunsister @aesthetic-lyss @jupiterscove @3hufflepuff3 @kikookii @maggiecc

[dihydromorphinone]

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 a match into the water..

god, you vulture; bring her back or take me with her.

— tomoe x land god afab reader, angst w no comfort, reader died, suicide mentions, there's not enough tomoe fics 😓

an: i've been looking at my old works recently and literally the only thing i used to write was heavy heavy angst,, i love writing angst even though i hate reading it when it has no comfort;; anyway i hope you like it since i did not write any angst for a long long time and overall i have been writing less and less..

unbelievable. it is the only word fitting to describe the events that have unfolded today. he failed to protect you - as your lover and as your familiar. but was he really able to save you from the fate itself? defying it is but a wonder.

and as your lifeless body just... lays before him, tomoe starts questioning everything about his life. past, present - be it future, even. though, future without you seem dull. too dull for his liking, and he's not sure if he can bear to live in this world now.

if only he became human to meet his end with you. or, perhaps, there was a way to change you into an immortal being; that would be his last resort. he did not want that, although the promise of spending eternity by your side seemed perfect, his past actions made his reputation stained. and if anyone would dare hurt you to get some revenge on him...

tomoe sighed, closing his eyes and holding your cold hand. he could've done so much better. the gods above you could've done so much better. and at this moment, he feels his resentment for deities grow.

they should've stayed away; it was not your time to depart from the earth. and if the magnificent, omnipotent beings were so sure that your passing should happen so early, they could have at least taken him with you – or, give you back to him.

he squeezed your long life-drained limb hard, so hard that if you were still breathing you would scream in pain. his expression sour; emotions overpowering and clouding any real feelings and thoughts about humans that he formed while you stayed right by his side.

now that you're gone, tomoe thinks he should visit the fallen god's tree yet again. but this time, there's not going to be any mikage to save him; his reason for staying alive is gone, and so he shall be soon. and if his 'suicide' mission fails yet again, tomoe just hopes you're going to haunt his dreams for the rest of his pitiful life.

[olsenmyolsen]

Hey!!! So im finally gonna send a request from that prompt list lol.

May i please request. absentmindedly playing with their hair at all times

I dont mind either elizabeth or wanda, but can I ask that yn has a buzz cut on her sides back back of her head. And as she just had it redone yn makes a comment about her feeling like a sheared sheep lol

Just got my hair redone and I always say that after touching the back. I just wish I had someone who would stroke my hair also;_; id melt if wanda/elizabeth did.

If that's not too much trouble ;_; please and thank you

A Sheared Sheep

maroon master list . dark master list . request marvel master list . short n’ sweet master list

No Powers AU - (Female Reader X Wanda Maximoff)

Summary: You got a haircut without telling your girlfriend, Wanda Maximoff.

Word Count: 1.3K

Content: Girlfriend Wanda Maximoff, Meet-Cute, Baking, Haircuts, Fluff

You had met Wanda Maximoff only a few months prior. It was a classic meet-cute moment.

A lapse in thinking had led your iced latte to go from your hand to her shirt. An exchange of apologies, small talk, quick glances, some light flirting, and a dinner to make up for it all led to the two of you dating.

It's been bliss and wonderful. You two have only grown stronger and more comfortable. Sharing details about your lives and what you want for the future.

Wanda was very upfront in talking about kids, and she said she didn't care how it happened but that this was something she wanted. That made you feel better when you pointed out through some laughter that you didn't have the parts to help her in the department.

Wanda shook her head and hugged you tightly before running her fingers through your long hair.

An action that always made you smile.

And yeah, sure, talking about kids a few months into a relationship might seem forward, but within the last year, Wanda had recently called it off with her fiancé. Plus, she was older than you. Not significantly, but enough to where you needed another hand to count the years separating you two.

Anyways, like I was saying.

What you and Wanda have is clearly special. And you know she loves you for you. Not a whole lot could change that as of right now.

Well, that's what you keep telling yourself as you close your eyes in the hairdresser's chair. "We really don't have to do it Y/n." Your favorite hairdresser and good friend Natasha pointed out for the hundredth time.

You see, every once in a while, once your hair grows past the point of driving you crazy, you usually just buzz it. Well, at least most of it. Normally, Natasha styles it or just trims one side. Today, the two of you were talking about buzzing the sides and back of your head, but then Wanda popped into your mind and stopped everything.

No, she didn't telepathically communicate with you. As cool as that sounds.

No, the thought of her popped into your mind.

She has only ever known you with your long hair. Would she even like you if you didn't look like... like you?

You shook your head and told yourself that, of course, she would still like you. Hell, she loves you!

Thus, the thought cycle repeats.

"Y/n, why don't you just tell her you want to get it done?" Natasha asks as she watches you look over yourself in the mirror. "Because I want it to be a surprise." You answer back with conviction. "Okay, so then why aren't we doing it?" Natasha asks another question, making you close your mouth.

You sigh.

And after a few moments, you tell Natasha to start cutting.

As your hair fell to the tile floor, your stomach began doing flips and tangling itself up, waiting to be in front of Wanda.

"Wanda?" You called out into her condo as you closed the front door behind you. "I'm in the kitchen!" Wanda yelled. You smiled at her voice and kicked off your shoes by the front door before making your way through her space.

It was just as soft and cozy as she was.

The smell of cinnamon and apple pie filled your nose as you walked closer and closer to her green-tiled kitchen. That backsplash was the first thing she did to make this place her own.

You loved the color.

"Smells amazing!" You said as you appeared around the corner of the kitchen as Wanda pulled out a second pie and set it on a stand to cool.

Wanda briefly glanced your way with a big smile. "Thank you!" She turned back and turned off the oven as she started moving around to put some dirty dishes into the sink. "I made two pies. One for us and the other for Agatha. I think she and Ralph are having some trouble, so I thought I would bake her a pie, too." You leaned against the doorframe of the kitchen with a warm smile, watching as your girlfriend.

She really was beautiful inside and out.

"It took me forever to find the specific brand of apples I wanted. You know, I didn't want it to be too sweet or sour, and then-" Wanda shook her head after wiping her counter down. She let go of the rag and chuckled. "Sorry." She glanced towards you again.

Still not noticing the WestView Witches baseball cap you're wearing to cover up your haircut.

"I'm rambling." Wanda brushes her apron and quickly unties it before fast walking to you with a spring in her step. She quickly kisses your lips and pulls away as she hangs up the apron. "How was your day?!" She looks towards you, and then that's when you see her notice in her eyes. Her mouth goes from a smile to a shocked look. She takes a step back and looks over your face before she reaches out and gently takes your chin, moving your face from side to side. "Y/n- I- when-" She can't form a sentence as she lifts her hand to the baseball cap. "Can I?" She asks after a beat.

You nod, afraid saying anything will spook her.

Slowly, Wanda grabs the end of the cap and lifts it off your head. You hear her breath hitch as she looks over your very short hair. Her fingers slowly run through your hair before she brings them down along the backside of your skull, where the buzz is prominent, making you shiver slightly at the contact of her nails brushing you.

Wanda notices as her eyes move to meet yours. "Does that hurt?" She asks carefully. You laugh through your nose and shake your head. "It feels good. Really great, actually." You say in the same tone as her. Wanda nods, glad that she isn't hurting you.

She brings her hand back up and runs through it again with more pressure. "How does that feel?" Wanda asks.

"Good. Touching the back is the best part." You say before making a joke. "I feel like sheared sheep." Wanda can't help but smile and laugh quietly before she removes her hand and brings it down to yours. Holding you. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I wanted it to be a surprise." You say, looking to Wanda, who looks to you, waiting for more. "It's just something I've always done. Do you hate it?" You then question, and just as quick as you ask, Wanda shakes her head, giving you an answer. "I don't hate it. I just wish I would've known." She squeezes your hand.

You nod.

After a few seconds, Wanda grips your hand. "How about while we let the pies cool, we can go sit and relax," Wanda says, making you nod and following her to the living room, sitting next to her on the couch in your usual spots.

Wanda flips through some channels before coming across a marathon of her favorite sitcom.

The two of you relax and cuddle into one another. Letting the surprise of your haircut fall into the back of everyone's mind.

After an episode of the show, you feel Wanda's hand move from scratching your back to up your neck and through the back of your head, stroking your buzz. You smile and let out a satisfied sigh that makes Wanda look over at you with her own smile. "I like it." She states making you feel warm and happy with your choice.

You turn to her. "I'm glad." Wanda leans into you and kisses you as her fingers scratch your head. "My little sheep." She jokes as you two part, making you roll your eyes. Playfully.

All in all, that joke wasn't as bad as when you brought Agatha her pie, and she turned to Wanda and said: "So how many Y/n's do you have to count in your sleep to you fall asleep?"

dividers by @/benkeibear

[shewrites02]

Forgive Me if I break You | Zoro x Reader | Part II

Part I Part III Part IIII

Trigger warnings: Domestic assault, Alcohol, verbal abuse , physical abuse, graphic depictions of violence. THIS FIC CONTAINS DARK CONTENT ! MINORS DNI !

*THERE IS A GRAPHIC DEPECTION OF DOMESTIC VIOLENCE IN THE FIRST FLASHBACK, IF NOT COMFORTABLE PLEASE SKIP. (the last line is the most important anyway)*

A/N: Thank you for all the support I've gotten at the start of this series, I was so nervous no one would be interested lol. I hope this part lives up to your expectations.

Request: Open

Word count: 5K

Leave a comment if you enjoy :)

The cold of the ice pack stings against your cheek, almost as much as the insults lodged in your throat with nowhere to go. Harshly, you swallow them down, having to reacclimate to the taste of stifled feelings. Almost completely forgotten in those two months.

You're in your shared bedroom, sitting in Lee's lap. Your head lays against his chest. With how tenderly he stroked your hair, you're almost able to imagine care in his touch. Pretend it is the swordsman who caresses you so tenderly. Lee places a soft kiss to your cheek, laying his head against yours.

"I'm sorry, y/n ... I didn't mean to lose my temper." He coos. In the past six months he never came up with any other excuse. Always an apology then an explanation of why it was your fault.

"It's jus’- you embarrassed me in front of our guests, interrupting me like that. You know I hate when you do that- and that fucking swordsman clearly has feelings for you."

Lee is almost completely lost in his rambling, and you think for a moment you will get relief from this puppet show he has forced you into. But the mention of Zoro has you going stiff.

"It's disgusting. a lowlife pirate thinking he can have what is mine. I forbid you from seeing him, do you understand?"

"Yes dear." you respond.

As if the swordsman wanted anything to do with you now. Not after what you've done to him- not after he has seen how pathetic you are. The future world's best swordsman deserves more than someone like you.

"I'm so glad you're home." Lee pivots. "I can't believe I thought you left me-"

Lee lets out a chuckle as though the thought is inconceivable. In spite of your rigidness, the chief takes a deep breath to relax into the headboard. Each chuckle that leaves his mouth tightens your shackles. Reaffirming what you already know- you aren't going anywhere.

"Is that what happened to the countryside?"  You ask meekly. Fearful of the answer, but so desperate for the truth.  "Did you burn the lemon grove to punish me?"

"... Yes."

Tears swell in your eyes as you pull away to look at the merciless man in front of you. A man who would bathe in your blood with no remorse. So desperate for your obedience he is willing to strip the last memories of your mother away from you as punishment . Did not need proof of your transgressions, his outrage evidence enough to justify his actions.

The chief uses the edge of his thumb to swipe the shallow tears brimming in your eyes.

"We can replant all of them my love, even more, now that you are home. "He lets his thumb sweep over your cheek and lips before he draws away.

Still he wears no semblance of remorse. No guilt or shame for what he's done. For the villagers - his people- homes destroyed in the crossfire of his rage. Couldn't care less about the massive amounts of  nature he burned to ash in the name of revenge. Their  forfeiture was a consequence of your decision to act so selfishly.  It was all your fault-

Why should the chief feel apologetic?

"And the villagers?"

Lee leans in to gently place another kiss to your cheek. As though his kisses can ease the pain of his strikes. Something in you wants to believe he is trying to soothe the pain he inflicted on you. The more nihilistic part of you knows you are only searching for the swordsman's affection in Lee 's actions.  Actions that only encompass power and control, that force obedience. Lee rests his forehead head against your head so that his lips are centimeters away from your ear.

"I told you, what I would do if you left- I thought you called my bluff, honey …" 

Your mouth went dry at the sight. How- You thought- there was no time to waste musing through all the precautions you  thought you followed. Not when your husband stood in front of you disproving their effectiveness.

"What is this?" He asked, pointing over to the bed.

There is an empty duffle bag clutched tight in his left hand- your duffle bag. Its contents scattered on the bed sporadically. A couple thousand berry, a map, exactly two changes of clothes, and a log pose. Everything you needed for a seamless departure.

"I- don't know how it- I-" You were too caught off guard to lie, too unprepared to conjure up an excuse on the fly. Instead you stood fumbling like an idiot trying to figure out how Lee could have possibly just stumbled upon your stash.

"What is it?!" The chief shouted, this time throwing the duffle bag so that it landed at your feet. Before you could answer, he was already stalking toward you. Soon his hands were wrapped around your jaw, squeezing your cheeks. You'd wince in pain if the man had allowed you any wiggle room. 

"Were you trying to leave me?" he growls.

"No-" you tried to muffle through your clenched jaw. the word only coming out as a strained cry.

He looked unconvinced. That darkness you're too familiar with started to fill his eyes. It made you begin to question what in you was so naïve enough to think you could escape. Lee moves his hand from your cheek to wrap his arm firmly around your waist. His opposite arm wrapped around your shoulders.

"You want to leave me?" He snarled.

Your head shook ‘no’ so vigorously you almost forgot it was a lie. Just trying to appease the chief,  to be spared from his wrath. It did not work. Lee was already starting to walk backward , dragging your body along easily despite your protests. This time you were sure.

He was going to kill you.

Lee easily kicked open the French doors leading to the balcony. Your kicking and screaming, posing as no defense against your husband. He drags you, until your torso is pressed against the balcony railing and he is forcing your head over to look at the drop.

"This is your only way out. If you want to leave me tell me now and I'll throw you over myself.... Say it!"

"I don't want to leave. I don't want to leave." The words repeated from your mouth like an incantation. Barely made out through your cries.

It was enough to make the chief release you, letting your limp body fall to the concrete. He stared down at you with a satisfactory smile before bending at the knees. The gentleness in his touch as he swept the hair out your face is always a precursor to his cruel threats.

"I'll burn this whole village to the  ground if you try to leave again. Do you understand me?" He snarls. "Slowly, one by one I will burn every region until you return to me. I will force you to watch everyone, everything , burn because you decided to be fucking selfish." 

Another kiss is planted to your cheek  before the whisper of Lee's voice commands your attention back to him. A shiver of a sigh escaping your lips at the painful memory.

"I can rebuild their homes... would you like that?"

You nod, letting the tears stream your face. You can feel Lee's smirk against your skin when he kisses the streaks. As though he is giving his approval of your reaction, your emotion.  The whites of his fingers dig into your waist to hold you close.  His grip does not lessen when you start to sob.

This is how he loved you. Broken. Tattered. Hopeless. An ode to his power, to how much he controlled you.

"Okay, Honey, first thing in the morning."

-

Water trickles down your chin and onto the sink. You had washed your face six times trying to get the feeling of Lee's hands off you. A futile attempt. His touch would be seared onto you forever.

You trace your cheek while staring into the vanity. There's some relief in not seeing a mark. Probably have your hiatus to thank for Lee's sudden mercy on you. At least you won't be subjected to questions. Trying to conjure up on the spot cover ups come morning, as to not incriminate your husband.

A shaky breath leaves your mouth. You would sob if you weren't so convinced you deserved this. The stinging of your face, the burning of your throat, the stabbing feeling in your chest. This must all be just a fraction of what you imposed on Zoro. The guilt in you leaves little room for other emotions, especially self pity.

How dare you believe a life waited for you beyond these cities' walls. Stupid, stupid, stupid- Foolishly thinking you could escape the future both your father and husband have mapped for you.

You curse the two month departure for giving you a glimpse of how good freedom could feel. For bringing the swordsman into your life when he is so undeserving of the burden you pose. For finally giving you hope just to later rub it in your  face.

"Lady Misatori." A small voice quips from the other side of the bathroom door. A knock follows to further force your attention.

A housekeeper stands on the other side. She can barely meet your eyes. A piece of notebook paper is folded into a tight square in her fingers , she is extending it out for you to grab. It trembles in her hands, giving way to the anxiety she is failing to hide.

"Thank you." You mutter. The maid looks relieved to hear her question-free dismissal.

When you open up the note you immediately recognize the handwriting. Had seen scribbled recipes written on loose leaf paper, and napkins enough to note it as Sanji's.

'Mosshead wants to talk- garden 10 minutes .'

The woman's trembling is finally put into perspective. Fearful of what her role in sneaking around the chief could mean for her. Briefly you wonder what the cook could've said to convince the woman to do this. Had his charm really been strong enough to get the woman to forgo all her senses? Part of you wishes to relish seeing Sanji's flirting finally meet with intrigue, but the insistent need to lay eyes on Zoro replaces the thought.

It has you stumbling out of the bathroom as quickly as you could. Forever grateful that in all his control Lee had found it fitting to give you a private bathroom.

-

It is dark, and wet. Leaves crunch and crumble beneath your feet as you walk the maze-like garden. The unpaved path is bordered with mountainous rose bushes that block your view of any direction, but front and back. The red flowers bloom so fruitfully they encroach your space on the pathway. The weather has gotten considerably cooler in the night, forcing you to pull your cardigan tighter around your shoulders. Regretting that the rush had made you grab the first thing with sleeves you saw.

A sigh leaves your lips exhaustedly. Surely the cook was mistaken. There was no sign of the swordsman anywhere. Maybe he had changed his mind about wanting to talk. Decided the risk isn't worth the reward. That you aren't worth the breath-

You hit an intersection on the path, and before you have the opportunity to turn left, there is a tight grasp around your arm. The force pulls you back, nestling you into the bushes behind you as you still. Once you gain your composure and are able to open your eyes, you’re met with the swordsman.

His left hand is wrapped firmly around your right arm, his other rest in the bush beside your head. Zoro has you caged. Trapped with nowhere to run. No place to hide. No escape.

"Husband?" He fumed. "Have you just been fucking around with me?"

"Zoro..." You plead, reaching out to grasp his cheek. He does not let you. Releases his hold on you to take a step back before your fingers land on him. The look on his face seethes of betrayal.

"Answer me!" The pirate barks. You flinch at the tone of his words, your eyes shutting closed. It takes a minute to gather yourself. You have never heard Zoro's voice void of any affection.

You swallow your own tears . Shove down your discomfort to accept accountability for your actions. Even if all you want to do is hold the swordsman once more. Hear his heart thump in his chest. Hear him say he loves you.

"I should have told you. I am so sorry I hurt you Zoro. "

The pirate scoffs, clearly not satisfied with your answer. He is shaking his head in disbelief, eyes burrowing into yours.

"You lied to me. You told me you loved m-"

"I Promise Zoro, I love you. I love you so much. so much." You beseech. 

The swordsman seems even more tortured by your testament. His hands find his skull to dig his fingers into his scalp. As if trying to ground himself for only a moment at the reeling thoughts.

"Does he know that? That you love me, that you're mine?"

When you don't answer the frustration builds in the swordsman. He lets out a pained laugh that morphs into more of a choke. His expression is filled with disbelief. 

"You're not mine." He speaks as if he is speaking to himself. "You're his."

"That is who you want to spend the rest of your life with? He talks to you like shit- the dirt beneath his shoes and you smile through the whole thing. The man who thinks you're his accessory- That is the man you love?"

Zoro badgers you. Moving his tongue as piercingly swift as you're sure, he can wield his swords. 

"I do not love that man." You choke.

"Then why?" The swordsman shouts. His exclamation wakes the small birds that have chosen the garden as their resting place. The sounds of their wings flapping away from the conflict fills the air. "Y/n ... why are you doing this to me?"

There is a frailness to his voice you don't recognize. Something so breakable about the way he utters your name. In the two months you had spent with Zoro you had never seen him show this much emotion.

"Zoro, if I could stay on the beach with you forever... I would. But I can't. I have people who need me-"

"I need you!" He professes, throwing his arms in the air. 

The way that Zoro bares his scars to you , when you could not do the same in return physically pains you. You force down the tears that dare to surface at his confession. Who were you to be hurt in a situation you hand crafted? To cry in the presence of a man who held his broken heart in his hands with hopes, you would fix it.

There's an immense sadness in your restraint, how you're able to still your body though every bone in you wants to wrap around him.  Reciprocate all the comfort Zoro so willingly gives to you. But this is not the beach-

"I'm so sorry Zoro. I'm so sorry." Your eyes shift to the ground. The tears are so much harder to fight off when you can see the confusion under his saddened expression.

Zoro cups your cheeks in his hands and for a fleeting moment there is no anger. There are only kisses shared under the stars, gasps fallen onto the sand, words of endearment lost to the wind. Love. For a second Zoro stares at you and there is only love.

"I don't want apologizes- " There's a shake in his breath. " I want you to tell me why I have to watch another man touch you.  Why he gets to hold you tonight instead of me. Tell me why you keep saying you love me, but you're going home to another man. Tell me the fucking truth!"

Even in his anger you can hear the worry in the pirate's voice. It takes you by surprise. Maybe malice hasn't taken up the space of affection in Zoro's heart after all. Maybe in all his poking and prodding Lee had only brought concern out of the first mate. The sweet sentiment physically aches. You turn your head, breaking free from his grasp.

"Leave Zoro- take your crewmates and go. I'm only going to hurt you if you stay, so please- go."

"... Is he why you need the sun to feel free?"

You're caught off guard by the swordsman's questions. Don't expect to hear your words echoed from his mouth. "Free". You could almost laugh hearing the word now. Freedom? What did you know about freedom? Always a pawn for someone else's will, your own desires to be placed on a shelf and expectantly forgotten.  This castle has always been your prison.

"I'll make sure you'd feel the sun everyday. I will drag it out the sky and place it in your hands if it will make you smile. I'll never trap you. I love you. Please- don't leave me." He begs.

Your body is moving on its own again, this time manipulated by the voice of the swordsman. Unsure of what has come over you, you're reaching out for Zoro, pulling him in closer. You know that you shouldn't. Especially not here and not now. But it does not stop you from standing on your tiptoes to press your lips into his.

The intention was for a quick kiss, just one last time to feel Zoro's lips on yours, but it's difficult not to savor the moment. To not search for another life, one where you could be together, in his mouth. The same desperation is displayed in the way Zoro grasps you. Tight. One hand tangled in your hair while the other on your waist. As if he could hold you tight enough to stay. He groans in displeasure why you finally pull away from him.

"Go Zoro. I'm only going to break you."

-

The sun has risen just enough to illuminate the desolate field. The early morning is still shying away from pushing out the darkness of night completely. You woke early enough to see Lee still had not returned home. Off doing something you are sure, is none of your business. 

You took the opportunity to sneak out to what used to be the lemon grove. Tears stream your face while you wonder what pushed you out here. What exactly it is that you're hoping to find amongst the ash.

The memories of your mother you can't get back? Pieces of the wooden swing you used to sit on in the summer? Evidence it was truly necessary to leave the swordsman in your past?

It's hard to focus on all you've lost when staring at the pile of rubble that is the villagers' homes. Their whole lives destroyed at a whim. You did this to them. Had you stayed home and behaved no one, not even the swordsman, would be in this situation.

"Wanna tell me what you're looking for?"

The whisper behind you sounds so familiar. There is a part of you that does not want to turn around, thinks it's better off not knowing who the voice belongs to. A bigger part of you itches with a need to know.

"Zoro."

"Maybe I can help you find it." There's a crooked smirk on his lips.

It's involuntary, the way your heart is instantly soothed at his arrival. Something it must have learned on its own while on the beach. You have to fight not to jump into his arms. Draw him into you with the wish to feel his lips again. 

" I thought I told you to leave..." you mutter.

"You did." The pirate agrees. Zoro moves from behind you, so you no longer have to crane your neck to look at him. He reaches to take your hand in his. His thumb traces the back of your hand, his touch so soft you almost don't feel it.  

"You're still here."

"You may have authority in this village, but the only person I take orders from is Luffy." He lets out a laugh.

The sound forces your brows to furrow to the center of your face. Where was his anger? His disappointment? Why wasn't he yelling at you? The last conversation you had with the swordsman had not gone the best. This warm welcome is the farthest reception you expected to receive.

"What?" He asks, reaching out to smooth the wrinkles your frown causes. You're surprised at the way you flinch when his fingertips touch your forehead, a reaction you hadn't had in at least a month.

Had it really only taken one night with Lee to erase all your expectations of being lovingly touched?

You can see Zoro's happy exterior waiver for just a moment at your knee jerk reaction. Still he does not draw away his fingers. Just trails them down so he can stroke your cheek. Still offering you a kind smile.

"Stop Zo..."  You're taking a step away before you can give into him. Pulling your hand away to further the distance.  "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to see the lemon grove..." He uses the tip of his boot to kick at a burned shingle on the ground. "So much for that."

"Oh? You made it here all on your own?" In spite of your sorrows you laugh. "You didn't get lost?"

Zoro glares at you, his eyebrows raised to his temples. You suspect he hadn't expected you to join in on his light heartedness.

"I had to ask someone in the town square..." He sheepishly admits drawing an even more obnoxious laugh for your throat.

"Why were you looking for the lemon grove?"

"You don't remember?" He asks.

Even in your best memories of the beach, you never liked sand. The way it intrusively stuck to you, creeping its way into every nook and cranny made your skin crawl, but this beach was the expectation. You loved everything about this beach.

"Tell me something else." Zoro requests. His voice was softer than before- meeker after your supposed rejection.

You were still wrapped firmly in the swordsman arms, your head on his chest. Zoro's head had returned to rest on top of yours. A brisk breeze forced you closer to Zoro in search of warmth, the thin blanket almost whisked away at the gust. The sight drew a laugh from the pirate.

"Where would you be right now if you were home?"

The only location you could definitely think of was underneath the chief's thumb, but that surely couldn't be the answer the swordsman was looking for. It was hard to think of places in your village that still brought you joy. Places that hadn't been corrupted in the transition of power from your father to Lee.

"The lemon grove." You blurted out the second it came to you. There was a cheesy grin on your face while you reminisced. A grin that is met with a full blown smile from Zoro once he sees your joy. He leaned down to plant  a kiss to your cheek, then your jaw.

"Yeah? Why is that your favorite place?" His breath brushed against your neck.

"My mom used to take me there, and we would have picnics in the summer. There's this huge swing we'd sit on. It's my favorite place in the whole world."

"All that you've seen of it?" Zoro jokes. He caught your wrist when you went to slap his chest. Bringing your hands to his lips to kiss your knuckles. He rubbed his finger back and forth over yours after planting one last kiss to your cheek.

"Maybe you can show it to me? When we get you home?"

Lee had never in the six months you'd been married bothered to visit the lemon grove. Just knew it was a sacred space for you , a memento to your mother. This was the first time you're grateful for that. That in the chief's vast kingdom there could still be a place that could be just Zoro and yours.

"I would love that Zo."

You smiled before craning your neck to plant a kiss on his lips.

"I wanted to see your favorite place." Zoro admits once he sees you remember. "I thought it might give me some insight." 

"Insight?" You parrot in confusion. 

"You're hiding something from me." Zoro states plainly, drawing your eyes to him.

"You found out I'm married, what else can I be hiding Zoro?" Your voice trembles with exhaustion.

The swordsman narrows his eyes as he looks you over. That fury, and fire previously seen in the garden is long gone . All that remains is this inquisitive stare.

"I don't know, but you are... I wish you would let me help you."

"Help me-" There is a feigned smile painted on your lips. How could a pirate of the new world be so... heartening. Surely the horrors he has seen, far exceed the small misfortunes of your life.

"Zoro. I already told you to go. "

"If you looked at me and told me you didn't mean any of it I would've left. Sailed away and tried for the rest of my life never to think of you again, but you didn't. You told me you love me-"

"I do."

Zoro plops down onto the ash filled ground. He crosses his arms against his chest, and stares out at the rubble.

"Then I'm not leaving. Until you tell me what's going on, what's actually happening, I'm not going anywhere."

The way your heart swells at his proclamation is treacherous. Allowing yourself to be swooned by actions that could very well get the both of you executed. You almost think it's sweet, if it wasn't so stupid.

"Why do you care? Zoro I hurt you, why are you still chasing me?"

"... because I meant it when I said I love you. And I know you meant it too."

"You deserve someone better than me Zoro. Someone who won't hold you back, someone who won't hurt you, someone worthy of standing next to the world's strongest swordsman."

"I don't care what you think I deserve. That's not a decision for you to make." Zoro snaps.

"Zoro... " You sigh exasperatedly at his rebuttal. "Do you really think I won't hold you back? That you will still become the world's strongest swordsman if I'm standing next to you?"

"I don't think I will become the world's strongest swordsman if you aren't standing next to me." 

There's a sharp breath forced into your lungs at his confession. How could he say that with such certainty. It has only been two months. The two of you should be able to forget each other. Move on as if none of this happened- but Zoro stands before you stating he doesn't know if his dream will come true without you. A dream he has been chasing his entire life. A dream you've only come privy to in the last 60 days. 

"Tell me you don't love me- I'll go. If you look me in my eyes right now and say it, I'll leave." He challenges.

You search for the words on your tongue, though you cannot find them. No parts of you willing, or wanting to lie to the swordsman.

"I can't."

-

Zoro has kept his promise. The strawhat crew joining you and your husband for breakfast, lunch, and now dinner going on the third day in a row. You wonder what the pirate is waiting for? A confession? An outcry for help? Don't know what actions would be satisfactory enough to get him to sail away.

In all of those days Zoro has sat in that same seat, to the right of you at every meal. Some meals he would lightly brush his knees back and forth against yours. At others he would 'accidentally' knock his napkin off the table so he could pinch your thighs. In spite of your best efforts to forget the swordsman exists, he seems all too insistent on making his presence known.

"So Luffy, when do you think you and your crew will be leaving?" Lee asks. His voice does well to mask the irritation you can pin in the twitch of his eye. "We'd love to send you all off with a ball."

You suspect Lee's urging of the Strawhats' departure correlates to his growing  suspicion of the swordsman. The chief may be many things, but naïve has never been one of them. He takes note of the way Zoro's eye never leaves you, regardless of whoever is speaking. How the swordsman just couldn't be bothered to feign interest whenever the chief commands the room. You had spent every one of these past nights disavowing your feelings for the swordsman.

"We're thinking soon- Wednesday at the latest." Nami answers before her captain has the opportunity to. He seems to wear a confused look that is soon dissipated by her scowl. 

Two days.

Although you had trained yourself not to go looking for the swordsman, your eyes immediately fall onto him at the navigator's words. Your concern is met with raised bows, almost a silent challenge from the pirate.

Did he expect you to profess your love there at the dinner table? To look at your husband and gloat in the love you've been able to find? Neither are options being the choice was not yours. Lee has done a great job in ensuring you did not have any choices.

"Oh, I'll get the staff on preparations immediately. We will hold the ball tomorrow." Lee's smile is filled with pleasure.

His wife had returned home, and soon the guests he had been performing for would be on their way. Everything is on the road to being back to normal. Exactly how you remembered it. The thought sends a shiver down your body.

"Maybe y/n can take us to the shop to find a dress?" Robin suggests.

Lee is apprehensive about letting you go. Obvious from the way his smile falters at the archeologists suggestion. But he never could deny a pretty woman. Begrudgingly he agrees.

Part III

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

A/N: Part three is in the works , I'm hoping to not go more than a week between chapters, but please don't hold me to that. The ADHD will make me a liar. Thank you to all the beautiful people who care about my work, and have so many kind words.

Tag List: @turtletaubwrites @jinjen @sanzu-clinic @heyauntieeee @honeybuzzzzzz @nothing-but-brass

[serpenlupus]

On D-16, and how his refusal to grieve led him to becoming Megatron.

I have a longer post on the works about Orion Pax and his relationship to D-16/Megatron on the recent Transformers One movie, but I wanna say this real quick about D-16 because I feel like there's a lot of people completely misinterpreting him and his actions. And a girl has thoughts.

No, he is not in the right, his actions in the movie climax were wrong even if his feelings were justified. Orion was doing the right thing by trying to stop D-16 from murdering Sentinel on the spot. Not just because without the damning evidence, it would have been a random murdering the hero leader of a whole society, and it would have thrown it into chaos, or because Sentinel is defenseless at that moment, but also because killing Sentinel is not going to make D-16 feel better. And Orion knew this.

The movie itself confirms it, after Sentinel is dead Megatron doesn't stop, and lashes out against the city itself and anyone that's inside it. The reason is that D-16 is clinging to his anger, desperately so, because if he stops feeling angry then he has to face the loss of the entire life he has lived, the regret of all the choices he didn't make because of his societal cage, and abandon all the hopes and plans he had made for the future. He has also lost the sense of security he had when he existed within a structured life, it's why he expreses anger at Orion for uncovering the truth about the Prime's deaths, even though that was an indisputable good thing. That vulnerability is terrifying. So instead of letting himself feel that sadness, that fear, and properly processing it all, D-16 holds onto his anger and lets it motivate him forward into the movie.

When he shoots Orion, albeit by accident, he again doesn't let himself properly process the shorrow of having killed his best friend, so to avoid the pain, he latches onto the anger again, blaming Orion instead of realising were that fury is leading him.

And when he kills Sentinel, and there's no relief, the past hasn't changed, the years he lost haven't come back, and Orion is dead, D-16 truly has nothing left. So it's Megatron who clings to his anger and lashes out against the entire city, against any remnants of Sentinel, even if that hurts innocent bots. Because it's easier, safer, to feel that anger, than letting the grief overcome him if he lets himself think about it.

(No Megs, you could kill eveyone in the planet and wouldn't feel any better, please stop ;_;)

Don't misunderstand me, anger is a necessary emotion, it's as natural as any other, anger will motivate you to fight for yourself, however there's a danger to letting it blind you. Megatron had all the right to feel the way he did (although maybe he took it too personal, Sentinel lied in front of everyone's faces Dee, come on), but, that's ultimately the tragedy of the character in many a continuity; that he let his righteous anger turn into hatred and vitriol. And this led him into a path he couldn't come back from.

Anyway that's my two cents! Feel free to add to this or just tell me I'm wrong XD The movie was amazing and I may be feeling a little pasionate about people intentionally misinterpreting it (that guy on Tiktok that said this was the most shallow interpretation of Megatron? Pissed me off, have you even seen any other Transformers media?).

Also on a last note, I feel like Megatron's thoughts when he started shooting at the city were very close to Dracula's "there are no more innocents" sentiment (from Netflix's Castlevania).

It's understandable that he felt that way because Sentinel couldn't have worked entirely alone plus Airachnid, but that still doesn't make it right that his shots put random civilians in deathly danger.

Have a nice day!

[melancholicmarionette]

Lmao remember months ago I asked for q&a suggestions for my Sam and Valerie podcast brainrot and then never did anything? It’s bc I only got to like two and then left this in my drafts. I’ve decided it’s fine. merry crisis and happy hanukkah

—

Graveyard Gals Episode 15: Q&A Special Just for You

“Welcome. I’m Sam.”

“I’m Val.”

“We’re not friends.”

“We have exactly one thing in common and that’s that we are always down to record us arguing for an hour.”

“Because you guys like it for some reason?”

“Yeah, what’s wrong with you?”

“Anyway,” Sam leaned back in her chair, adjusting her headphones, “if you’re still here after we insulted you, then please congratulate us for making fifteen episodes.”

“She needs constant validation,” Valerie said, smirking at the flash of anger that shot through Sam’s eyes as a result.

“This will also be our last episode, she will be dead after recording.”

“Gotta film that sweet sweet content before I beat your ass in a back alley, I see,” Valerie replied, “anyway—to celebrate our fifteenth and perhaps final episode, we have gathered some of your most burning questions from the comment section—”

“Our friends did, for impartiality,” Sam clarified, “Tucker and Danny picked mine, Star chose for Valerie, and as I say it out loud I think that I, at leas, may have made a mistake.”

“We’ll see,” Val said. She scrolled through her phone, finding the google doc her friend had crafted for her—it was a spreadsheet, really, Star couldn’t resist an opportunity to make a spreadsheet—for her first question. “Okay, first—ugh.”

“Read it. You have to.”

“Jesus—BokChoyJoy23 asks ‘when are you actually going to do local ghost smash or pass?’” Valerie waited for Sam’s cackling to die down before continuing, making direct eye contact with her camera, “You’re actually one of many to ask. One of so many. And I don’t regret to inform you that that is something Manson says to piss me off.”

“When there’s a lull—we can’t have lulls,” Sam interjected, “and can I say? Bold of you to assume I won’t do it.”

“We’re moving on.”

“For now. Put a pin in it—but we have something way more important to address: SailorGoon—fantastic username, no notes—asks ‘do you think the genie ghost would help me with my gender transition?’ Oh. Oh SailorGoon.”

“SailorGoon, look at me,” Valerie said sternly, and stared unblinkingly into her own face cam, “or if you’re listening just pay close attention—do not ask Desiree for anything. Nothing. I don’t care if you just need a pen. No.”

“Please seek out other resources,” Sam retreated to her phone for a moment, “I’m actually gonna—someone I follow actually has a linktree specifically for stuff like that, I’m gonna repost it to our account—by the time you see this it’ll be posted. We’re in the past.”

“You’re in the future, you’re living your best life in like…”

“In your best gender.”

“Yes—and you’re not trusting genies.”

“Or like just…not Desiree.”

“Are you gonna “hashtag NotAllGenies” me here Manson?”

“Would it make you mad?”

“Livid.”

“Then I’m making a graphic, it’s gonna go…” Sam traced her finger across an empty space in front of her, “right along here. Hashtag NotAllGenies.”