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bluetooththereptile · 1 year ago

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Crimson bride

(Yandere Damian Wayne x twin sister reader)

( English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes in the following text.)

Summary: Your life is going to end horribly, your will to live is slipping away, will your only hope come to save you?

Tw: mentions of violence and abuse

The smell of blood and incense had filled the air, your lungs could hardly bear the responsibility of bringing you oxygen under the pressure of your stress, not that they could easily filter the smoke in the air anyway. It felt like the air was on fire, with each breath your body shuddered slightly, your body could hardly bear the burden of keeping you alert. The beads of sweat slithered down your spine, making the already uncomfortable rags even more unbearable. You were just 11, why were you stuck in a room full of adults in dark long robes...you were not sure...or perhaps you knew what was going to happen, but you didn't know why on earth you were there. You eyed the sacred blade in the hand of the leader of the group, the light of the candles shimmering on its uneven blade, and swallowed your saliva down your throat that now had turned extremely dry. You could already feel the pain in your chest. Dear God, if you hear me...please help!

The dark monks' chants echoed in the chambers, and the puddles of red wax candles under the feet of pillars carved with different images of unholy creatures, seemed like oozing puddles of blood to you, already boiling with crimson liquid of life right out of hell, where they hailed their master from. The veil on your head was thin enough for you to recognize people's faces, well, at least the ones who didn't have a mask on, and your terrified eyes spotted the figure of your grandfather standing behind the leader, himself holding a golden bowl at hand. You gritted your teeth at remembering his words. The memory is still fresh for you, it was just two months ago when he was having a drink with the leader himself in his boudoir, with you present by his side.

"She's a fitting lady Ra's...I give you the credit of having good hereditary genes..." the leader spoke in his smooth voice, his eyes scanning you up and down. You knew how the way he looked at you was inappropriate but you still stayed, holding the tray of drinks, standing by your grandfather's side, if you were going to flinch even for an inch, your mother wouldn't be happy. "She is..." your grandfather hummed, rubbing his chin before he chuckled "What is it old friend? You seem too interested in my child..." the words spoken made your shoulders stiffen slightly, your fingers tightening around the edges of the tray. "I am...but not for what you think...she is too young for marriage for a mortal man..." his smirk grew wider as he continued "But she's at the ripe age for being gifted to our dear lord...she'd make a decent bride..." you could see Ra's hold on his glass of drink tighten, what did his friend mean? Did he want to marry you off to someone? You wondered, but your confusion soon turned into horror as the leader continued "Her heart fits the unholy bowl perfectly" Oh no...you had heard from your nanny that this man was bearer of bad news but this...this was unpredictable! Your head turned to your grandfather to see how he'd respond...please say no, please say no, I've been a good granddaughter...please say no! "What price do you offer?" And with that, your whole world shattered, you felt like life was slipping away from your shell of being as he negotiated the price of marriage, did he...did he just agree on making you a sacrificial lamb?!

You snapped out of your thoughts by feeling the extremely warm hold of the leader on your naked arm as he pulled you away from the corner of the damp room, the metallic chains on your weak ankles clinking loudly as you dragged them on the floor, your feet already bruised by the rough edges of the old tiles on the floor, leaving red trails of blood. He walked you to the alter, your heart skipped as you saw the white dressing of the stone bed, flower petals spread on the surface, how hauntingly fitting for a bridal bed... The man stopped you right before the altar and started chanting in a language you didn't know a word of. But whatever it was, it was working...because the tiles under your feet started to turn unbearably hot, the circles and symbols drawn onto the walls and the floor turned bright red, oh dear God...if you hear me...please help! You had lost your hope a long time ago, but still, you wanted to hold onto a sliver of hope, maybe your grandfather would change his decision at the last minute, or perhaps he would come...but no...how could Damian come to the other side of the world that quickly? He was just a child, like you, sure, he was a capable boy but still, he was just a boy. His words circled in your mind as the priest poured a warm liquid on your body that painted it red, its sweet aroma filling the air, unbeknownst to you, it was a poison that through skin pores penetrated the body and ran into your blood, slowly relaxing your muscles until your heart would stop, this way, if the demons preferred to have your body whole, you'd still be dead. As you felt your skin itch and your vision turn slowly blurry, Damian's voice echoed in your mind "I will come...I promise...I promise!" His voice was filled with determination, but you knew he'd be late. It was already too late...

They helped you lay down on the alter, the wet veil sticking to your face, slowly suffocating you, but you were too weak to move on your own, your eyes were closed, as if the liquid had sealed your eyelashes together, and the voices around you were turning into distant murmurs, your hands limp as they crossed it on your chest. It was too late...and he hadn't held up to his promise...your lips formed a pout, unable to cry, hardly latching onto the task of breathing, your breaths became labored. Soon your chest would be cut open and your warm paralyzed heart would be put into that golden bowl, and then thrown into a fire...you had hoped things would be different, but you knew from the very start, that you were unwanted, and one day, your family would give you up if they have the chance to do so.

Your ears couldn't detect the loud sound of the explosion of the tear gas in the room, how the cult members shouted and pulled out their weapons but were disarmed quickly by the man in black and a few younger ones. You didn't notice them until someone yanked the wet veil from your face and wiped the clotted liquid off of your nose and mouth, putting an oxygen mask on your face "Y/N!" The voice seemed familiar, but you were too weak to respond "Y/N!" He cried for your attention, his trembling hands shaking your shoulders, his voice muffled by his mask, his hold was pushed away from you when you felt a sharp pain on your neck, the detoxing liquid surged in your veins forward by copious amounts, yet you were already unconscious to see your father cry silently as he held your body close to his chest. Poor girl...poor poor girl...he wished he was there sooner.

Your nanny had pulled the small phone behind her apron with trembling hands, she knew your actions had consequences, but she wanted you to feel happy, so she'd do anything in her power to ensure it'd happen. You quickly snatched the phone out of her calloused hands and started to take the number you had repeated over and over in your mind since the moment you had snuck into your mother's study and had found it deep in her files, it was the Wayne Manor's, where your Damian lived with your father. You were separated since birth, him getting most of the attention of your mother, well the one who was to be her weapon, you were too weak to fight from the very first moments you had started to walk, but still, you tried to have a connection with your twin, who even if neglected your attention or bullied you, still felt a twinge of sibling love deep down. It was not until when he was sent to live by his father that Damian had found out how much he dearly loved you, and how much you meant to him. You dialed the number, hearing it slowly beep, one...two...three...you could hear your nervous breaths into the phone, and four "Hello?" You stiffened at hearing Damian's voice, moving your lips to speak but you couldn't, the sheer luck of having him pick up the phone himself was too much! "Hello?!" Damian's voice turned sour with annoyance, you knew he'd hung up quickly so you finally spoke "Hi..."

"Y/N?!" Damian's voice had turned from annoyed into one of surprise and concern, you spoke softly, asking how he had been doing, smiling as he quickly stammered to answer you, but then, when he was rambling on about missing you, you smiled sadly "Hey...I wanted to tell you something..." you interrupted him "Hmm? What is it?" He had asked with curiosity "Please, forgive me if I've done you anything wrong...okay?" "W-wait...Y/N..what do you? What is happening?!" "Grandpa wants to marry me off...to death..." and there was silence, a very uncomfortable silence. "I will come..." his voice was now filled with determination "I will come, I promise!...w-when's is the ceremony?" "Within two weeks-" the phone had slipped off of your hand when your mother's stinging slap met your face, you turned to look at her with wide eyes, trembling as you heard her crush the phone under her feet.

Your eyes opened up to a white light, with warmth surrounding your body. Were you in heaven? You naively asked yourself, but when the pain washed over your body, you knew you were still alive. "Hi..." Damian's voice made you turn your head to his direction at your side, your neck strained from being motionless for too long. He was holding your hand tightly, and your blurry vision could find the outlines of his face in what you could recognize as crying. "Welcome back..." his voice trembled as he sniffled, adjusting the oxygen mask on your face. You blind a few times to make your vision better, still, it felt a little blurry, but you could at least recognize you were somewhere dark, which you'd find out was the Batcave in the future, and Damian was sitting on your side. Your lips curled upwards slightly at how he held your hand to his chest, looking at you affectionately "Sorry I was late..." he spoke softly "But I will make things right from now on, I promise" he promised, and he would do anything in his power to ensure that.

#yandere #yandere batman #yandere dc #yandere x reader #yandere batfamily #yandere bruce wayne #yandere robin #yandere Damian wayne #yandere bat family #yandere batfam x reader #yandere batfam #yandere batboys

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sweatervest-obsessed · 1 year ago

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New Shade of Green

Pairing: Spencer x Reader (gn!)

WC: 2.7k

TW: implications of murder, serial killer talk, mentions of abuse, crying, anger, swearing <3, Men sucking so bad

a/n: This was a request, which you can see here. Jealous Spencer was so fun to write! Enjoy babes!!!

"Oh my god. Shut the fuck up! I didn't know you were the consultant for this case!" You hopped up out of your seat on the jet to greet the man you called your best friend.

His eyes lit up when he saw you, wrapping an arm around you, squeezing you tightly. "I assume you didn't read the text I sent you last week."

You laughed and pulled out of the hug slightly, hand still on his arm. "I never read anything you send me."

Spencer, whose hand you had abandoned when you got up to say hi to Oliver, was zeroed in on the fact that your hand was still on Oliver's arm, and Oliver's arm was still slightly wrapped around your waist.

"Team, this is Oliver Swerdanski, my best friend and specialist in classics--"

"Norse mythology specifically."

It was not lost on the team that you clearly had a type. Oliver was about 6 feet tall, in a sweater, and wearing wired glasses frames. He was slightly buffer than Spencer, but not as tall. (something Spencer noted the first time you had introduced the two)

The team nodded and said their hellos, more interested in the shifting dynamics of the plane since you hadn't left Oliver's side, opting to sit with him on the couch instead of your usual seat by the window, next to a certain green-faced Doctor.

The flight was going to be a long one.

Eventually, Derek felt terrible enough for Spencer that he stopped by you and Oliver on his way to get some coffee.

"So, Oliver, how long have you known our dear Y/N here."

Oliver smiled over at you with a glint in his eye that most of the profilers on the plane noticed. Except for you.

"Oh, well. We go way back."

You nodded enthusiastically, just happy to have the company of an old friend. "We were neighbors growing up--you could say he's my childhood best friend."

"That turned into one of your now best friends..."

You smiled and rolled your eyes. “Don’t push it asshat.”

Derek smiled slightly, realizing this was going to be an interesting case “Well, it’s nice to meet you Oliver.”

He left the two of you alone, taking your abandoned seat next to Spencer, a slight smirk washing over his face as he did.

“Aren’t you the picture of joy this morning?”

“Not in the mood, Derek,” Spencer mumbled, staring intently out the window, trying not to let his jealousy get the better. It’s not like it mattered since he was surrounded by profilers who could read him like a book.

“What do you think of Oliver?”

Spencer’s jaw tightened, and Derek chuckled. “Good luck, kid.”

And with that, Derek left Spencer alone, knowing he had his plate filled with more than enough shit for however long this case would be.

And it didn’t help anything that you were completely oblivious to both men: both of them filled to the brim with envy of the other, having what they each thought the other had—your attention.

____________________________________________________________

Four years ago, Hotch had made you and Spencer share a bedroom, causing a chain of events to lead to the fact that you still share one now.

Three years of dating had made you feel very comfortable in your relationship; You loved Spencer Reid. This was not some passing affliction, it was simply a fact of the universe. You would move hell and earth if he asked you to.

But not right now. Right now? You kind of wanted to punch him. He was ignoring you, or at least that’s what it felt like. The car ride was completely silent. You could tell something was upsetting him, but you weren’t one hundred percent sure why he was so distant.

“Spence?”

“Hm?”

“Wanna tell me what’s wrong.”

He shrugged, effectively trying to murder the conversation before it even had the chance to live.

You frowned slightly, shifting in your seat slightly, and looking over at him.

“What’s going on?”

You heard him mumble something under his breath, unsure of what he was saying, but it just made you even more upset.

“Why won’t you tell me what’s going on with you?”

“I said. I’m fine.” Spencer huffed.

“Well, clearly you aren’t.”

“Believe whatever you want to fucking believe then.”

And that’s where the conversation ended, leaving you effectively lost. Especially since he wouldn’t hold your hand in the car ride back and then didn’t wait for you as he walked straight into the police station.

This was going to be a long case.

___________________________________________________________

And you were right.

Spencer ignored you at every chance he could. Even in the hotel room, he’d go to bed without you, no holding one another, no late-night talks, nothing. He would just get ready for bed in silence and then turn away from you.

And tonight, you couldn’t deal with it anymore. He had been ignoring you for over a week and now that it looked like the case was going to take longer, you couldn’t stand it. Instead of getting into bed, you grabbed your phone and wallet and stormed out of the hotel, slamming the door behind you.

You went down to the hotel bar and ordered yourself a tequila shot, downing it quickly before getting your regular drink.

Oliver slid into the seat next to you, hand on your arm.

“I haven’t seen you do tequila that fast since freshman year of college.”

You gave him a dry laugh and took another sip of your drink. “Desperate times.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“Not really. I’m just. I’m aggravated.”

“Come on, babe, it’s me.” Oliver rubbed his hand up and down your arm. “You can always talk to me—so tell me what’s been going on. Boy troubles?”

You sighed. “It’s just…I don’t know what’s going on with Spencer. He’s barely said like three sentences to me since the case began, and clearly, he’s upset with me, but I have no fucking idea why since he’s being a stubborn ass and won’t talk to me. How the fuck am I supposed to fix something if he won’t even tell me what’s wrong.”

Oliver rubbed his thumb across your arm. It felt intimate because it was, but this was Oliver, who only had the best intentions for you, who you had known since you were a little kid.

“He sounds like a douche babe.”

You leaned away slightly, face becoming unrecognizable for a moment. “Okay, well, that’s not what I said. He’s clearly just upset abou—”

“You kinda did. He’s acting like you don’t exist, and clearly, he doesn’t care about how all of this is affecting you.”

You went to rebuttal his claims because Spencer would never be that callous; he’d never treat you like that. But he kind of was. “It’s only because something is wrong and…”

“So he treats you like this whenever he can’t communicate with you.”

“Well not…he doesn’t…” You were starting to doubt yourself, unable to keep up with the accusations.

“He doesn’t what. Because it sounds like you’re saying he treats you like shit when he gets upset with you…”

“What are you trying to insinuate? That he hits me? Oliv–”

“I’m just saying that behavior–”

What? Oliver, no. Stop twisting my words.”

“I’m not twisting your words; I’m just stating what I’m seeing.”

“What you’re seeing? You’ve been here for a week. You don’t know the past three years.”

“It’s been a week and he’s still treating you like this. And honestly, whenever I come around, he…” Oliver moved his hand to your thigh, causing you to frown deeply.

“Oliver. Step off.”

He shook his head. “You’re upset. And I want to help.”

You shoved his hand off your thigh and stood up. You left cash on the bar, standing up and moving away from Oliver.

Oliver watched as you walked away, frowning once you couldn’t see him anymore.

____________________________________________________________

The next morning, Spencer was woken up, and you were curled into his chest, sleeping soundly. He couldn’t move. He ghosted his lips over your forehead, causing you to stir slightly, clinging to him more.

“Morning.” He whispered to you.

You hummed and gripped a bit tighter to him. “Don’t go.”

Your voice broke Spencer’s heart a little bit. It’s not that he didn’t feel bad about the way he was treating you, it’s just that Oliver kept provoking him, making him turn greener every single time he saw Oliver talking to you.

“I wasn’t planning on it, sweetheart.”

“Oh so now we’re back to nicknames.” You grumbled into his chest. “I’m still mad at you.”

He signed and brushed your hair out of your face. “I’m sorry Y/N. Let me make it up to you, yeah?”

“You can make it up to me when we get home.”

“Deal.” He kissed your head again, just as your cell phone began to ring.

_________________________________________________________

After two grueling weeks on this godforsaken case, everyone was ready to get home.

The rest of the case caused serious tension for the group because the mythology was the only thing tying these murders together, and your geoprofile was all over the place, meaning these two killers were too good at what they were doing.

Once you had been shot at, and nearly grazed by a bullet, you would have expected Spencer to continue to speak to you, but all he did was stare at you from afar. It was infuriating.

You couldn’t get a read on him. For the rest of the week, he had been speaking to you, kissing you, holding your hand; then after checking on you while you were getting checked out, he stopped speaking to you.

The entire team watched you and Spencer shift back into the dynamic duo you were, functioning better than before. They watched as Oliver got more frustrated as you continued to ignore him unless it was a necessary part of the investigation. Maybe you had figured it out–they hoped you had.

Instead of trying to deal with even more bullshit, you opted to sit alone at the back of the plane, headphones on. It was one of those many unspoken rules about the plane that everyone knew not to disturb you while your headphones were on unless they wanted to get bitch slapped.

Well, everyone except for Oliver.

You were deep in thought, trying to mull over why Spencer wasn’t talking to you–both times– going over every scenario you possibly could and figuring out what changed during that first day.

Oliver got up, ready to go and talk to you, his intentions pretty clear from the look on his face, but Derek grabbed his arm, effectively yanking him back down into his seat.

“What the fuck man?”

“Don’t bug Y/N while they have headphones on.�� If Spencer wasn’t going to stand up for you, then Derek absolutely was. Oliver might have been your best friend, but Derek was your family.

“It’s just music…”

“Yeah,” Hotch spoke up, not looking away from the report in his hands. “And no one wants to clean up your blood when you get murdered for trying to interrupt that music.”

“Look. As Y/n’s best friend, I’m outside of most of their rules–”

“I don't think so.” Derek stood up, fully ready to restrain this man.

“What the fuck is going on.” You had stood up, and turned around, headphones out of your ears, and my god did you look fucking pissed off. “I don’t know why is everyone arguing so loudly, but if we could keep the volume at a fucking minimum that would be fan-fucking-tastic.”

The team stared back at you, except for Hotch who just had a slightly amused look on his face as he filled out paperwork. You glared at Oliver and Derek, who were standing opposite of you. “Can I help you two or…”

Derek shook his head. “Go back to your music. We’re sorry.”

“Thank you.” You grumbled to the group, sliding your headphones back over your ears, attaching a ‘sorry’ to the group as you did so. You moved further back on the plane, sitting on the couch, glaring at anyone who looked at you.

This has been a stressful two weeks for you. Oliver was acting all weird all of a sudden, –causing you to reevaluate your entire relationship with him, considering he was trying to make Spencer sound like a villain. And then Spencer, acting like a villain and ignoring you all week, then acting like nothing happened, and then ignoring you again for another twenty-four hours. You couldn’t take it anymore. And, on top of all of this, you had lost two more victims to the unsub, because one of the killers worked in the station, using his knowledge to avoid the BAU.

You were overwhelmed and frustrated, and you just wanted some peace and quiet. Was that too much to ask for?

“I should go apologize–” Oliver didn’t move to sit back down.

Spencer stood up and shoved past Oliver, moving to sit on the couch with you, causing you to raise your eyebrows at him.

“Can I help you?”

Spencer shrugged and opened his book, knowing you’d rather have whatever conversation he was willing to have now, in private. He opted to just read and be in your company. It was easily recognizable as the beginning of an apology, and you would take it. You maneuvered so your back was up against his arm, initiating the amount of touch you were willing to have, but also not crossing a line.

The plane ride was silent the rest of the way.

______________________________________________________________________________

“I’m sorry for this w–the past two weeks really. I-I’ve been really in my own head and–”

You let out a hefty sigh, tossing your keys on the counter and your bag down next to the door. Spencer followed suit, closing the door behind the two of you as you went into the kitchen to put on the kettle to make some tea.

“Are you going to tell me what was going on? What the fuck happened?”

He sighed back at you, grabbing your hand and pulling you into a hug.

And while you muttered your displeasure, you didn’t move away from him at all, opting to grouchily mumble in his ear, while Spencer ran his thumb up and down your back, listening to you mumble.

“I–god Spence. You just dropped me like all week, and then suddenly—”

“I-I know. I was awful. I’m so so sorry.”

“That’s not an explanation.” You mumbled into his chest.

“I….” Spencer swallowed whatever sort of pride he thought he would be saving and opted to tell you. “I…It was Oliver, and-and the way you were treating him, an-and you sat next to him on the plane and he was touching you and he was constantly holding you and stealing your attention away and—”

You pulled away slightly to get a look at your boyfriend. “Spencer Reid, were you jealous?”

He cursed under his breath and rolled his eyes.

You placed a soft kiss on his neck, causing him to hum. “You have nothing to be worried about Spence. You are it for me. No one can change that, especially not Oliver.”

Spencer looked down and smiled again. You smiled back at him, pulling him to you for a kiss.

It was recentering your universe. Everything was the way it should be–your lips on Spencer's, his hands around his waist, and a glowing sunset peering through your windows.

The kettle whistled loudly, causing the two of you to jump apart, startled at the sound.

“That was a good start, Spence. Once I finish my tea, you can show me how else you can keep making it up to me.” You smirked slightly, turning around to take the kettle off of the stove and grab the tea and mugs.

Spencer has never been so excited to drink a cup of tea, and honestly, neither had you.

#x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader fluff #spencer reid x reader angst #dr spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x gn!reader

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evanpetersmybf · 9 months ago

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All he asked for was you

Tate Langdon x female!reader

Summary: Tate loves you too much. He would do anything for you, to keep you by his side, to make you love him forever. He would cross any line to make you his, it doesn't matter how evil it is... But was it really worth it?

Genre: ANGST!! and some smut

Word count: 5,104

Warnings: Obsessive, stalkish and violent behavior, implicit toxic relationship; mentions of weapons, murder, mental health issues, family issues, school shooting; use of Y/N, swearing, cunnilingus, fingering, unprotected p in v. (i hope i'm not missing any...) NOT PROOFREAD !!

A/N: English isn't my first language!! Sorry if I have some mistakes and if Tate's a bit ooc (i tried to keep him in character as much as i could). I wasn't sure (and still not) if this is good but I spent days writing it, so I had to post it.

A small playlist with songs that inspired me for this: monster by meg and dia, pacify her by melanie martinez, all i want is you by rebzyyx, skyfall by adele, psycho by doko, paparazzi by lady gaga, dark red by steve lacy.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ཐི ♡ ཋྀ

Tate never believed in love, nor was he a romantic one.

In fact, he despised it. How could he even believe in that feeling when he never felt loved by his own mother? At least that’s what he pretended.

The blond always had the facade of a tough guy, although he couldn’t fool anyone. Constance knew well he was a sensitive boy. Probably the most crybaby ever to exist… And the most unstable one.

Now he was here. His chest going up and down, breathing shallow and fast. His eyes were darting around the room, looking for something or perhaps someone. Some silly tears were rolling down his cheeks while he anxiously fidgeted with a ring on his finger. The clock on the wall continued its tick-tack. The time kept running. His heart kept beating. It was getting late.

He refused to look at the wooden floor. He didn’t want to accept reality. If Tate did that, he would feel like the biggest monster on Earth.

Nevertheless, he couldn’t stay like this.

He had to do something real fast.

Today, 18:40

You were supposed to arrive at 19:00.

But he remained there, next to the corpse of his rival. A bloody ax beside the dead man’s bleeding head.

Whom he thought was his worst enemy, was someone really dear to you.

Well, Tate fervently believed this was something justified. He couldn’t stand that fucking asshole anymore! That scumbag needed to be put back in his place. And Tate only did that. Furthermore, he actually helped him. He took him away from this shitty world. It was a favor.

He had already killed his mother’s boyfriend, so why was he feeling guilty?

Maybe because his victim was special to you. Because his death would hurt you. And Langdon swore to God he would never let anybody or anything hurt you, including himself.

He loved you.

He wanted to be the one to hold your hand forever.

Tate snapped back to the present and frowned. He picked up the weapon, putting it in his backpack. He didn’t even mind cleaning it. Then, he proceeded to knelt right next to the lifeless dude and cleaned the blood surrounding his body; afterwards, he dragged him to the basement and…

19:00

A knock on the door.

You arrived.

“DAMN IT!”

He left his dead foe lying limp on the cold basement ground and quickly ran upstairs, straight to his room. He also left the backpack there.

Tate spent the last twenty minutes cleaning the mess he made in the living room after he atrociously smashed your friend’s head, forgetting that had poor time to get ready.

He desperately looked for clean clothes, scrambling the entire closet in search of fresh garments while he cussed at himself, at his mother, at that freaking boy, at the entire world but you.

Finally he found some jeans and a striped shirt. He looked at himself in the mirror after changing and cleaned the tiny drops of blood that stayed on his face and hands. He never realized he left the bloody clothing on the bed.

Another knock.

19:07

Tate opened the door, immediately throwing himself at you and giving you one of the warmest hugs. His demeanor with you was completely different; you were the only creature capable of changing his fucked up mind into something more beautiful, more peaceful. The issue was that it only happened when he was with you, otherwise he would be aggressive and rude as usual.

You got the best of him.

“Missed you so fuckin’ much, babe…” Voice muffled since his face was buried in the crook of your neck. Tate always did the same thing; clinging onto you like a small koala would.

“Heh, me too, hun!” You spoke with the same soothing voice he adored. Tate giggled and placed a tender kiss on your jawline, then another, and another, and another.

Soon enough, he was peppering kisses all over your neck, making you moan softly. Oh those sounds. He could hear you melting under his touch, his embrace, for the rest of eternity.

He loved making you squirm, making you laugh, making you feel loved.

He was way too sweet.

Only if you knew.

Four weeks before today…

Tate has always had the bad habit of stalking you. Yeah… He wasn’t proud of it. But can you blame him? He’s constantly afraid of you leaving him. He wanted to make sure you never did so… Otherwise he would die. Literally.

Don’t ask how he would die. You already know the answer.

You two were supposed to have a date, albeit you had to cancel your meeting.

And that, of course, made him overthink. It didn’t matter how many times you told him you were going to study; he felt betrayed, as if you were rejecting him. And Tate hated and feared rejection to the bone.

“Pretty please? Please, Y/N! I don’t wanna go home early, mom’s gonna be there and-and–”

“Tate, I can’t skip this. I have like, a test every day next week and I must study. I don’t wanna fail. Please, sweetie. I promise I’ll make it up to ya’, mhm?”

He rolled his eyes and whined, almost throwing a tantrum. He didn’t try to manipulate you on purpose. It came out naturally. “But I need you, Y/N! Why do you always do the same, huh? Am I not that important? Don’t you love me any longer?”

His childish crying continued for a couple of minutes, until it stopped and the blond agreed a deal with you.

You thought he was calm now, but no. How naive.

You went to the library to study as you said… Without noticing he followed you.

Quietly, he got into that maze of books after you and hid behind some shelves.

Tate noticed you sat on an empty table. Thank God. Oh?

Who. Is. He.

A man Tate didn’t know sat next to you. Really close. Too close for Tate’s liking. He tried to think he was a stranger, that he wasn’t going to talk to you… He was wrong.

He clenched his hands into a ball when he saw that idiot talking to you, and the worst part was that you followed suit. It seemed you two were friends or something.

How DARE YOU talk to another man? No, how dare you talk to another HUMAN BEING!?

Tate was insecure 24/7.

If you weren’t there, Tate was falling apart. It was simple.

No Y/N, no happy Tate. Was it too hard to understand?

Three weeks before today…

It was Friday. Tate was impatiently waiting for you outside the campus, hanging a small bouquet of flowers he picked up.

Once he spotted you coming out from the building, he waved his hand and embraced you tightly once you were in front of him. He gave you the adorable present.

“Tate!”

“How did you do? Did you pass your tests? Don’t tell me, I’m sure you did.” Said, grinning from ear to ear. He was away from you for an entire week. How did he survive? He didn’t know, but he was glad to have you with him again. “Tell me about your life in the last days, baby. Please? I feel like I haven’t seen you in years!”

There he was, the one and only drama queen Tate Langdon.

You talked about the tests, about how the teachers were being a pain in the ass (which clearly triggered in him the intense desire of hurting them because they stressed you), and… About a guy. The same guy from the library, with whom you spent the entire last week studying. He couldn’t stand it. He saw him as a threat to your relationship, especially since he was an old friend that you met many years ago.

As the days went by, you gave him more reasons to hate that jerk. Why? Well of course because you spent hours at the library doing homework or studying with him. Or even hanging out with him and other people.

In reality, you went out with him to a museum just once, and then skating with other colleagues. Nothing compared to the time you spent with Tate; in a week, you would hang out with him almost daily, and if you were way too busy, he would go to your place and spend the night there. He was so attached to you to the point he had to see you at least once a day. And that’s why he was so jealous of your friend. Tate couldn’t stand the idea of you sharing your life with someone else who wasn’t him or your family… And he also got jealous of them, but he was handling it.

Two weeks before today.

After Tate’s pleas, you decided to introduce your friend to him.

Probably a big mistake.

The date was really awkward; your friend tried being nice, and Tate acted surprisingly kind. Of course it was odd; usually, he despised all of your friends and treated them badly, yet this time was different. You were stunned, however, you tried to ignore it and instead got happy as he finally accepted a random person as your buddy.

Still and all, he hated that moron. It didn’t matter how much he tried liking your pal, he was jealous of him. He was getting on his nerves. He denied the fact that you had more love for other people that wasn’t him. Tate desired being your only one. Your number one. Your entire world. Because that’s what you were for him. And he was willing to do whatever to keep you with him.

Tate exchanged numbers with him and meticulously plotted a plan to ascertain he would never talk to you ever again. At first, it came out as a simple “I’m gonna scare the shit outta him”, nonetheless, it turned into a darker idea, very likely involving physical violence.

One week before today…

The last few days, Tate won Peter’s trust. Ah yes. That’s your friend's name. You were glad that he finally opened his warm heart and began to meet more people besides you.

You thought he needed a friend, an empathetic person who could support the blond when you weren’t available, that way he would feel less lonely and depressed.

They went to the cinema, to the arcade, even to a music store. Everything was going according to what he planned.

Eventually, he invited Peter to his place to play chess and other board games on a Sunday afternoon, before you arrived and had a date with Tate due to your anniversary.

Today, 16:00

Peter and Tate were eating pizza and having a great noon, talking about their lives and random stuff, like school and music. They both enjoyed Nirvana, and since Peter played the guitar, he agreed on teaching your boy how to.

If it weren’t for Tate’s twisted mind, they would’ve been best friends.

The guitarist wasn’t a bad guy. He was a great buddy that really appreciated you and the crybaby, but Langdon had something else in mind.

18:00

The men watched a movie. Tate didn’t even know its name; in fact, he didn’t even pay attention to it. Instead, he was focused on his next actions, plotting them carefully.

“Crap, mom’s gonna arrive soon…” Tate mumbled with annoyance, biting his nails and tapping his foot on the floor. He was lying. You were going to arrive, not Constance.

“Damn, bro. Well, I don’t have a problem. I wanna meet her.”

“Huh? No no no, you shouldn’t. That bitch is crazy.”

Peter scoffed, disagreeing with Tate’s rude manner to call his own momma.

“Hey, you shouldn’t talk like that. I bet she loves you!”

That pissed him off. “You don’t know anything, Peter. Your family is different. Your life’s different. You won’t understand!” He yelled, standing up from the couch and now pacing around the room, trying to keep it calm.

“Dude, calm down!

“NO! I fucking won’t!”

The screaming continued for a while. Tate revealed his unstable and crystal self. Even something so insignificant could drive him to the edge, like what happened today. That definitely surprised the other one, who used to think that Tate was a sweet boy. “I dunno why Y/N is dating you.”

“What did you say?” Tate abruptly stopped pacing.

“Y/N. Y/N doesn’t deserve you.”

“WHY WOULD YOU EVEN SAY THAT!?” He pounced on Peter, gripping his neck with one rough hand, applying enough pressure on the sides to stop the blood circulation in his carotids and make him lose consciousness.

Before passing out, Peter, getting pale, managed to croak out: “Because she deserves better…”

Soon enough, he fainted, giving Tate minutes to think about what else to do.

Your boyfriend wasn’t planning on murdering Peter today. No, he didn’t have time. He also was supposed to meet you.. But this was the perfect excuse! And not only that; he indirectly admitted he was in love with you! Or that’s what Tate interpreted with his delusional point of view.

Peter didn’t feel anything romantic for you, he was just worried Tate might be too unhinged to be your partner.

Thus, he went to his room and grabbed his backpack. Then, went to the garden shed and picked up the ax that belonged to his father, and a bottle of lye.

He had to get the job done quickly, nevertheless, he lost track of time.

18:30

Tate came back to the living room, just to notice that Peter wasn’t there anymore.

“FUCK IT!” Langdon got nervous. What if he escaped? What if he told you that Tate was crazy? He couldn’t allow this, not at all.

Thankfully, or maybe not, Tate found Peter crawling towards the front door, the poor dude still feeling dizzy after being choked.

Tate didn’t have any mercy.

“Where do you think you’re going, lil’ piece of shit!?”

18:38

Tate finally did it. He brutally murdered Peter, smashing his head several times with the ax.

He got rid of that little issue. He took him to somewhere clean.

Once he assured the other man wasn’t breathing, he dropped the weapon on the floor, making a loud metallic thud.

19:10

Tate was pinning you down on the couch, the same couch where your dead friend was sitting just an hour ago.

His hands were traveling all along your body, tracing sweet patterns on your skin.

Eventually, his fingers were clumsily pulling down your panties, not minding to take off your skirt. “Did you bring this for easy access, baby?” Tate chuckled and buried his face between your legs, holding your thighs in place; his lips plastered messy kisses over the warm flesh, biting it and leaving tiny marks after sucking.

Your reaction was alluring to him; he enjoyed listening to your pleas, to your whimpers. If it was for him, he would spend the entire day making you cum over and over again.

He finally got rid of your underwear, tossing it aside. Without further ado, the boy spread your folds with his large digits, and continued to lick your throbbing wet cunt.

“So fucking pretty… So wet for me, huh?”

His tongue lapped your small clit two or three times, then, traced a zigzag and circles on the sensitive nub. While he devoured you, he inserted his middle and ring finger, pumping them in and out of your cute hole, curling them and hitting the right spot to make you feel butterflies.

Tate could feel his arousal growing; his erection being restrained by the tight fabric of his jeans. He was desperate, yeah. But he always put you in the first place, and that included pleasuring you before him.

After a while, he replaced his fingers with his tongue, fucking your pussy with the agile muscle and now rubbing your clit with his thumb, applying pressure that sent electric waves through your body. He stopped using his tongue on you and instead looked at that stunning face of yours. He was delighted with your flushed cheeks, with every single gesture you did, with the way your eyes rolled to the back of your head. He wanted to take a picture of you to remember this moment forever.

His thumb increased the pace, while his free hand lifted up your blouse and tried to undo your bra. He couldn’t. You giggled when he groaned in frustration; he was too horny to think straight and that’s why you helped him to take off the garment.

Tate sighed and after that awkward and funny moment, he kept rubbing your bud, using your own juices and his saliva as a lubricant, intensifying the sensation. His left pinched and pulled your nipple, making you gasp and twitch beneath him, whilst his mouth abused your other one, greedily sucking on it.

“Tate, ‘m gonna cum! I-”

Tate cut you off by kissing you harshly; his tongue invading your warm mouth, exploring it and then nibbling your bottom lip until it bleeded. He licked the tiny drops of blood, savoring the metallic taste of it.

Unable to hold on any longer, you reached your orgasm, coming undone while Tate kept caressing your pussy, decreasing the velocity while you finally calmed down.

He left you panting; your heart beating so fast just like his.

You tried to sit up on the couch, breathing deep for more air, but the blond prevented you from going away.

“Where do you think you’re doing? We’re not done yet, you’re gonna cum again!”

Tate carried you bridal style and went upstairs straight to his bedroom. He threw you on the bed.

Without stopping looking at you, he unbuckled his belt and pulled down his jeans along the boxers; his dick already erect and throbbing, the veins thick and the tip leaking precum.

Using the clear liquid as lube, he stroked his shaft for a while, jerking off to the sight of you. He groaned and whimpered, closing his eyes as his hand pumped himself.

One of your hands went to your breasts, massaging them softly as your right went down between your legs, slowly teasing your womanhood and coating your index finger with your arousal, using it to rub your aching bundle of nerves.

Tate’s dark room was now filled with both of your moans; Tate calling your name several times and you begging him to fuck you.

He couldn’t stand this anymore. He NEEDED to be inside you, to feel your warmth enveloping him. “On all fours. Now.” You immediately obeyed, feeling as eager as him.

“Look at me, mhm?” He positioned behind you and rubbed the tip against your wet folds, teasing you for a bit. Afterwards, he slowly entered his cock inside your slit, moving it slowly at first. His thumb went to your clitoris, toying with it just like minutes before. He picked up the pace and fucked you fast and hard; his cockhead brushing your cervix. Grabbing a fistful of your hair, Tate pulled your head towards him, still with the deep thrusting. “Fuck, Y/N! You’re so pretty… So fucking precious, so fucking mine!” Moaned against your ear, voice raspy and agitated.

Panting, you stopped looking at him and instead looked to the bed. Why? Who knows, but you did it. And you saw Tate’s dirty clothes. Dirty with blood. A lot of blood.

You froze. Maybe it was red paint?

“U-uh, Tate?” You muttered, feeling already bewildered by the sight. You tried not to jump into conclusions, although you knew Tate and he has always been… Secretive.. And aggressive, of course.

After your boyfriend heard your shaky whisper, he stopped moving, even if he wanted to keep going. “Hm?”

“What’s this?” Tate sighed and pulled out from you, not understanding what you meant.

“What’s what?”

Without saying anything else to him, you grabbed the shirt and touched the weird stain. It was still fresh. You took your fingers to your mouth to taste it; and the metallic tang was too obvious. “Tate, what the fuck is this!?”

You threw it at him. Freaked out, you stood up and picked up your clothes, putting them on again, all meanwhile Tate connected the dots and realized he was probably going to get caught.

“Wait, Y/N! It’s not what it looks like, I swear, damn it!” He yelled and grabbed your arm, not wanting you to leave like this. He had to save his reputation, he couldn’t let you think bad of him even if you had all the right. Because, why the fuck the fabric was soaked in blood?

“Then what is it, Tate? WHY DOES IT HAVE SO MUCH BLOOD!?”

“CALM DOWN, PLEASE!”

You attempted to get away from his grip, struggling with him until, somehow, you managed to do so. However, you tripped with his dirty shoes and fell, realizing they were also stained with the red liquid. “Tate, what…? Why? What is this?”

“Nothing, I swear!” He didn’t have any excuses. Saying it was paint would’ve been lame. You were too smart and he knew lying wasn’t a good choice.

Feeling overwhelmed with the matter, you went downstairs, walking as fast as you could. Passing through the living room, a very familiar bag caught your eye. It was definitely Peter’s. You decided to grab it and realized it had his phone inside. Something was off.

Tate was standing behind you; fists clenched and heart beating like crazy. He tried to approach you, still thinking about what to do or what to say.

“Tate… What is this doing here? Peter’s here?”

“Huh? Yeah… He— He came earlier and had to go soon, he left this accidentally, yup…” You could see him fidgeting with that ring on his finger, again.

“Bullshit!”

Tate scowled and grabbed your chin, making you look at his dark orbs. “Tell me, Y/N, do you trust me or not, huh? Look me in the eyes and say you don’t!”

The struggle continued for what seemed eternity. You trying to run away from the house and he trying to make you stay. “Please, Y/N, just listen to me!”

“You did something to him, right? I know him, Tate! He would NEVER leave his phone like this! Is this a joke?”

“Why do you care so much about that asshole!? What has he done for you!? Tell me!”

“Oh my, you’re jealous! I knew it! All that crap about being his friend was a lie, right? Tate, you’re being delusional! I can have friends, I can hang out with whoever I want, whether you like it or not!”

Tate pressed your cheeks between his thumb and the rest of his fingers, squeezing the flesh with his veiny, big hand, pressing it tightly enough to leave the mark of his long digits on it.

“You can’t! You’re mine. Only mine. Since the day you were born you were meant to be mine. Not his, not anybody, just me.”

“Tate… We should end this…” You thought this was the best for both. Being in a relationship with him was draining; always being careful to not hurt him, make him jealous or mad. He was such a sensitive boy that always took everything too personally. He felt everything a little too much.

Since the beginning you knew he was unstable and that he had many issues, but you tried to see beyond his sick mind, you tried to understand him despite being so different.

Tate felt so safe with you. You were the only person who understood him, or at least made attempts to.

He felt rejected by the entire society, even by his own mother, until he met you and he had a minimum spark of hope that the world didn’t suck that much.

That’s why he clung to you. That’s why you were his everything. He would lose his mind if you leave him.

He felt like dying when he heard you wanted to finish the relationship.

He couldn’t breathe.

Some tears were now falling to the floor, his eyes puffy and an ugly frown on his face. His mouth twisted as he sobbed loudly, tugging the hem of your shirt while he begged you to stay. He was crying like a newborn, like a baby who had to be apart from his mother for a second.

“No no no no, you can’t do this to me!” He whimpered, his speech cracking as he tried to hold you close whilst you were stepping back. You were slipping through his fingers, you were leaving him.

“Tate, if something happened to Peter, I will never forgive you! Can’t you see you’re hurting me?”

Tate swore he would never hurt you, nor let anyone. But here he was, finally snapping out of it and seeing the cruel truth.

“You’ve been hurting me the whole time, Tate! I tried to understand you, I really did, I tried to help you, to save you from yourself! But it’s impossible. I’m losing myself here with you, I don’t even know who I am anymore! You don’t want help, do you? ‘Cause it doesn’t matter what I do, you’re never satisfied! You suffocate me!”

All those words were like daggers penetrating his skin, touching his nerves and making him die of pain. You were tearing him apart, just the way he was destroying you.

He finally let go of you, feeling a tornado of emotions. Tate felt depressed, mad, resentful, like he was going crazy. Though, he knew he had to leave if that’s what you wanted. He couldn’t bring himself to break another promise.

Thereby, he confessed his crimes to you. He explained he killed his mom’s partner a few days ago, and that now he had killed your friend. Why? He was jealous, he was scared you’d left him. You did it before you discovered the cruel reality, anyways. That’s why he told you. Because he couldn’t lose anything else.

The situation was utterly disgusting. Tate was sick. He murdered an innocent man and then proceeded to fuck you, as it was the maximum test of love, as if his life meant nothing.

You knew he wasn’t what people often considered “normal”. But this was definitely more than just being a “weirdo”. Tate needed psychiatric help… And being arrested, of course.

“You make me wanna puke, Tate! You’re the evil!”

Without hesitating, you left Tate behind, running as fast as you could from that living hell.

You just wanted to cry, curl up into a ball and wake up from this nightmare. You wished it was merely a bad dream.

Tomorrow morning, you’d go to the police, but for now you needed to sleep.

Monday morning, 11:05

You couldn’t sleep all night. You spent hours thinking about everything, about how this looked like a cruel joke to you. Eventually, you fell asleep at 4AM, and didn’t wake up at what seemed almost midday.

An intense sound of police sirens woke you from your slumber. Startled by the loud noise, you rubbed your eyes and went to the window, trying to get a glimpse of what was happening outside.

Police cars and SWAT vans were going in a specific direction… Towards Tate’s street. It couldn’t be, right?

Did his mother find the corpse? Or perhaps something else?

You looked at the clock, realizing it was late and you had to go to class.

08:00

After the most painful night of his life, Tate decided today everything would be over.

He had to cleanse the world… To take people to somewhere else, to some place full of peace away from the piss and the vomit that runs down the streets.

He was doing this not only because of your breakup, but also because of many other reasons. Your split up was the straw that broke the camel and drove him to the edge.

10:40

After shooting the school, Tate left the place, looking unfazed about what he just did. He was unhinged.

He peacefully got into his place, went to his room and stayed there for some minutes.

The blond sat on the edge of the bed, leaving the gun right next to him and stared at nothing. His gaze was empty, but also there were some tears threatening to spill.

His mind was a whirlwind. Some part of him was satisfied, but the other was confused, wondering what was he thinking, what had he done?

What would you think of him now? Were you even there? Did he kill you too and he didn’t even notice?

In the end, he recognized he indeed was the evil you said. Damn it. You were right, again, as ever.

Tate wanted to hear your voice, to comfort him, to hear you saying everything was okay. That he’d be okay. He desired to hear “I love you” from you once more.

11:15

You went downstairs to find your family apparently mourning you.

They thought you were at school when the shooting happened. They believed you were gone, but here you were.

Eventually, they explained to you what happened.

The first thing that popped into your mind was Tate’s wellbeing, still unaware that he was the culprit. You were afraid something terrible could’ve happened to him, you were regretting your last words to him, but you also had to get him prisoner.

Your heart dropped when they explained to you he was the shooter.

No, it couldn’t be possible.

It was possible. After all, he had already killed two men.

Even if you despise what he did, some part of you still longed for him, still was in love with his once kind heart.

A terrifying feeling of dread filled your body, making you feel numb, as if none of this was real…

11:25

After running to Tate’s house and seeing it surrounded by the cops and the SWAT team, everything stopped. Constance’s distressed cries and pleas were heard from outside, followed suit by the sound of bullets. It was over now.

Tate was certainly a troubled individual who dedicated his entire life to searching for something, to feel something, to feel loved.

All he asked for was love, to be loved, to love. All he wanted was you.

But at the same time, your love led him to an never-ending obsession that ultimately broke both of you.

He became your biggest regret.

All he feared, all his nightmares came true. Everything he was so afraid of was him and only himself.

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r0-boat · 3 months ago

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Whb!Lucifer wedding headcanons

This one is less jokey and more wholesome than mammon's. my mistake 😭

Headcannon: that angels and humans have similar wedding traditions because it was angels who taught humans their tradition of weddings. Even though it has changed a little bit, the more traditional Christian weddings are similar to angels!

Lucifer sees you as his future spouse. You make him feel every strong feeling that he's never felt before in his life. He's never wanted anything more in his immortal life. Everything he does and says with you is specifically to you for you. There is a reason why Lucifer only calls you "child of Adam" when you're around. You were his first kiss, and you were his first time, and as much as he loved God, you were his first romantic love, and his last.

First of all he is a man of God. And there is a very beautiful white marble church built and designed after the buildings in heaven. He frequently goes there when He feels particularly homesick. If you think you're going to marry Lucifer who's canonically still worships God and not get married in a church You are mistaken. Traditional Christian wedding a picture perfect white wedding like you see in Disney movies. He's not a complete prude He will gladly change anything you want from the wedding. The only thing he will not change is the venue and where the wedding takes place.

When you see the church it will be a white marble castle, its courtyard and backyard filled with beautiful flowers. Flowers he brought from heaven or earth or anything he thought was beautiful that reminded him of his home and brothers before he fell.

Lucifer is a little bit of a perfectionist. If there's anything you want about your wedding you better tell him now. He doesn't want you to lift a finger for your own ceremony just let him do all the work. The wedding hasn't even started and he's already calling you my groom/bride.

The two of you won't be seeing each other until the ceremony. But in Lucifer's words "it's not completely because of tradition dear it's because if I see you I don't think that outfit will live to see another night. And no one will see you until after our honeymoon."

Lucifer at first did not want to participate in the bachelor party However The other Kings are free to go have fun. But the Kings did not take no for an answer and dragged him to have fun in Tartaros to have fun.

During the ceremony his eyes are on you only. Looking at you with pupils dilated, a small pleasant smile and half-lit eyes. His voice becomes soft and husky whenever he talks about or to you. He ends in endearment and words of affection and affirmation calling you little pet names that he's collected for you over the years.

Lucifer is glued to your side a little uncharacteristically So, following you around like a lost puppy, his arm constantly around your waist holding you as if you are a part of him And if he lets you go, he will lose you forever. The entire day, he worships you and has dots on you, almost becoming a little smothering.

The kings are a little uncomfortable because of the choice of venue, but they're here to support your wedding for Lucifer. It's not like they can crash/stop, or protest in any way. Lucifer isn't one for play fighting. (Don't worry; notorious party Crashers have been contained via duct tape) Lucifer is sad because his angel brothers will not attend his wedding, but that's okay. His new brothers and beautiful wife/husband are here so he won't be alone.

The night after the ceremony when all demons go home. After You finally become his, He takes you into his bedroom, laying you on to his silk and sheets, and he makes love to you. No, he doesn't fuck you. He doesn't make you scream. He makes love to you; he worships you like you are his God.

For a honeymoon he would let you choose the destination, anywhere on Earth. He just wants to get away from it all, from heaven and hell because he wants you to be his entire world.

#ro.chatting #I wanted to add mammon walking down the aisle because it's cute. But I ultimately scrapped it.#whb #what in hell is bad #wihib #what in “hell” is bad?#whb lucifer #whb x reader #whb x mc #suggestive

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justwonder113 · 7 months ago

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Head over heels - Lee Know pt2

First part here (Can be read as a standalone)

Warning: Cursing(I can't help it). mentions of drinking. The reader is overthinking in the beginning but the end is fluffy. Minho is a menace and I love him for it. I can't think of anything else please tell me if I missed anything. Reader is gender neutral.

Word count - 1.4k

Masterlist

A/N- Hey lovelies, I'm back with the continuation of the previous Minho drabble. I wasn't thinking of writing the second part but I got inspired so here we are. I really hope you'll like it. Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated. I'd love to hear what you guys think. Thank you for all the love and support you give me, it really means so much to me. Please take care of yourselves, love you all so much!! <3 <3

The one and only sun, the sourse of light and basically all life on earth was sometimes a huge dick. Like what do you mean you're brutally waking someone up from their sweet slumber on 8 am on sunday? That's just evil. Do you know what they were up to all night? Maybe they need their much needed rest. Talk about inconsiderate.

Grumbling curses at the bright rays of sunshine which felt like you were being poked in your eyeballs you turned to your side, trying to escape them. You furrowed your face into your pillow hoping to fall back asleep. But you couldn't. Because you realized couple of things. First of all your so called pillow was clearly breathing. Second of all the familiar comforting smell clearly belonged to your best friend. Third, how the fuck was Minho's chest so firm yet so soft?

Hold on, hold on. Why were you sharing a bed with Minho? Normally whenever he slept over he opted for using the guest bedroom or the couch if he was too lazy to get up. It was rare of you to share a bed. Wait did you do something?

You tried to recall the events of the last night. You were at the club. Minho got a bit drunk, you went to get him some water. Some deuchbag tried to hit on you but Minho scared him off. You got to your apartment. You asked him to help with detangling your Chains and you two made out for hours, you talked in between and some time into talking about some random stuff Minho fell asleep.

You made out wit your best friend! What were you thinking?! You're clearly into him, you have been for a while, but what about him? Okay you knew Minho wouldn't just kiss you out of nowhere but still! You have been extra flirty lately but he hasn't given you a hint or a clue that he romantically likes you like that. Maybe it was just a spur of moment thing. Let's say he wanted to test things out. Maybe he wanted to test if he liked you like that? Oh god, what if he regreted it? What if you ruined everything. Oh God, what if this messed up your friendship. You couldn't live without him in your life. Maybe it was an overdramtic announcement but he was too dear for you. He was the reason you believed in suolmated be it platonic or romantic. God you shouldn't have indulged in kissing him when you knew he was still a bit tipsy. But he was so close tho and his lips looked so pretty and kissable... Oh what the hell?

The hands tightening around you stopped your train of thoughts. Great you woke him up now. You were mad at the damn sun for waking you up and now you were the one to wake him up? Great job.

Minho's groggy yet soft morning voice startled you. "I can physically feel you overthinking. It's too early, go to sleep."

"But Minho." You cringed at yourself at how whiny your voice sounded. Minho opened his eyes to give you an unimpressed look. He wrapped his hands more tightly and brought you even closer. You both loved and hated how at peace you felt whenever you were around him. Being between his harm made every cell in your body relax, except your heart, which felt like it would burst any second. When did you even manage to fall so hard for him?

"Do you like me?" The suddenness of his question startled you. You couldn't with him sometimes.

Unimpressed with the lack of answer Minho opened his eyes and full on glared at you. Normally you would laugh it off or try to make him well not upset but now all you could think about was how could a human look so breathtaking first thing in the morning. With messy hair and slightly dark circles from the few hours of sleep he got. He was like a walking renaissance painting what the hell? Minho was about to let go of you when you started talking. Well you had to say something.

"It pisses me off how pretty you look first thing in the morning."

You blinked at you once, then twice then rolled his eyes. His hand came up to your cheek and you thought that maybe it was one of those rare moments when he was sweet and affectionate, but no, you were proven wrong when he slightly pulled on the skin of your cheek.

"First of all, I'm always pretty. Second of all I could say the same to you." He let go of your skin and now slightly grazed your soft skin. "Third of all you're getting distracted sweetheart." This smooth fucker. You could feel your face start to heat up.

"You have never called me sweetheart."

"Hm, do you not like it?" Minho mused and looked at you with eyes full of mischief. The fucker knew he was getting you all flustered up.

"I didn't say I didn't like it."

"You're cute." Why was he so keen on teasing you today?

"Shut up!" - You couldn't help but groan. You didn't fully appreciate how flustered he made you feel.

The smirk on his face grew even wider if that was possible."Make me!"

If he thought that you wouldn't retaliate! You looked at him with challenging eyes. "I just might!"

"So you do like me." He said so casually while playing with strand of your hair you were taken aback for a second. God you hated how your heart basically did a backflip at his soft voice.

"You're infurating." You wanted to hide your face now, you knew this little asshole was having the time of his life watching you get this flustered.

"And you're not denying." Why would you? He knew you liked him.

"One fact doesn't exclude the other smartass!"

"So you're admitting it." How was he so casual about it?

"Maybe I am. What are you going to do about it?" You challenged him. Proud of yourself when you saw that your comment got to him and suprised him for a second.

"Then, I am going to kiss you senseless like you're pretty butt deserves to. And I'm going to take you some place fancy for our first date." To make his point across he even took your hand and softly kissed it.

"Aww you think my butt is pretty." This was the only response you could muster up. At this point you were amazed how was your heart still working.

"Well of course I think my partner's butt is pretty." Did he just say what you thought he did?

"Partner?" You couldn't hide your surprise as well as your hopefulness.

"Bold of you to assume You have any way out of this relationship." What a romantic. Why was he so him?

You decided to tease him a little, after all that's all he did all morning. "What if I'm tired of you?"

"You can always sit the fuck down." Again, so romantic.

"What if there's no chair?" Based on the smirk on Minho's face you knew he was going to make it dirty. "Okay never mind, I got it. Okay, what if we lose chemistry?"

"I have seen breaking bad, we will cook something up."

"Okay you're clearly quoting that one tiktok I sent you."

Minho glared at you for a second. "Doesn't mean I'm not being genuine."

"What if your cats hate me?" Minho rolled his eyes at you.

"They love you and you know it."

"Yeah, I'm way too adorable for them to not love me. Okay what if..." Minho didn't let you finish.

"No what if's. I love you and it's clear you feel the same. I knew what I was doing when I kissed you last night and I know what I'm doing right now. You're mine and I'm going to treat you like a royalty until you let me. Don't overthink your pretty mind now. Let's just cuddle for a while and then I will take you out for the fanciest breakfast ever." Again not really romantic but the butterflies in your stomach still decided to have a French revolution in your tummy.

"I still hate you"

"Whatever you say sunshine." He leaned in and sealed his lips with yours.

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andromeda-galaxy2877 · 3 months ago

Text

I Promise...I'll do better.

First write fight attack! @untitled-tmnt-blog 's prompt 2, "New dad Splinter (Rise), very unprepared, but doing the best he can" this is for @tmnt-write-fight !! Y'all know I adore Rise Splinter, I just HAD to pick this one for my first attack. I hope you enjoy!

Quick warning! This fic does depict some issues with body image, due to Splinter's mutation.

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

Lou was far out of his depth.

Huddled in a box in a rainy alley, four sleeping little baby turtles— whom of which he was beginning to fear weren’t really just animals anymore— curled in his arms, sheltered from the cold.

Babies.

They were babies.

Not animal young, not little creatures, not pets— babies. Children. Once he’d gotten over his initial panic and the chaotic whirlwind of emotions that had swamped him over being a literal goddamn rat now it hadn’t exactly been difficult to realize how the turtles had changed.

‘...What on earth do I do now?’

Going back into the Hidden City was completely out of the question. Big Mama would have her people crawling around all over the place trying to find him, to force him back into that arena. Not to mention Baron Draxum would certainly be looking for Lou Jitsu and his creations, determined to fulfill their true intention.

‘Over my dead body.’ Lou’s hands curled over their shells protectively. There was not a chance in hell he would allow these sweet creatures to become monsters.

So that ruled out the Hidden City, where Lou’s…new appearance would be accepted without second thought. But…the human world wasn’t exactly the best place for that either. He grimaced, pulling his legs closer to his body. His stomach roiled in disgust at the fur he could see poking through, his misshapen feet. ‘What did he DO to me?’

The sight of his monstrous, clawed hands curled around the innocent creatures made his stomach churn. His body still ached from the transformation, his vision was different— blurrier, he had assumed that it was from the panic but it was staying— ‘Why is it staying??’ He was disgusting, a monster, he—

A soft squeak caught his attention, snapping him free from the downward spiral. He looked down, noticing the large spiky turtle gently nuzzling into his hand. Lou’s eyes softened as he gently stroked the baby’s shell, chuckling softly at the ensuing…chirp? Turtles chirp?

‘Right. I…need to figure out what to do.’ Lou swallowed tightly, daunted by the sudden responsibility thrust onto his shoulders. He had never done well with this before, and now to be responsible for other lives? Oh dear god.

Gathering the babies close to his chest, Lou carefully exited the box, hesitating after he had gotten to his feet. Returning to the human world would be impossible now. He was hit with a wave of desolation, pure defeat at that realization. ‘I could never go back to my career like this. Could I even go back at all…? How long has it been since I was taken?’ He didn’t even want to know. ‘My coworkers, my friends…’ He…he would never see them again. They would never accept him like this.

His life was over.

A little warble caused his gaze to lower, the stinging in his eyes signaling the wet drops falling onto the babies’ shells was not only from the rain. The one with orange spots was looking up at him with big eyes, another soft warble escaping its beak. It was then Lou realized it was shivering—- they all were.

Something solidified in his chest. His life may be over, but theirs had only just begun.

He would not fail them.

Shielding them closer to his chest, Lou made his way towards the back of the alley, searching for something that could act as a better shelter than that worn and torn box. Dumpsters, a pile of garbage bags, a torn up pile of blankets…a manhole.

Lou grimaced, hissing through his teeth. That would be disgusting. But… ‘What choice do I really have anymore?’

Passing the babies into one hand, he gripped the manhole cover in the other and hauled it to the side. The ladder seemed to lead into an endless abyss of darkness, his vision swimming for a moment at the daunting sight. He hesitated, ‘...Is there nothing else I could do?’

One of the turtles— the one with the soft, leathery shell— let out a fearful little chirp. Lou immediately gently stroked its shell, shushing it. “I know, little turtle. I know…don’t be scared.”

‘That’s MY job!’ He thought with a shaky chuckle. Cradling the four babies in his arm, Lou carefully climbed down the ladder with the other.

_______________________

A few hours had passed since then. And Lou had never felt so out of place in his entire life.

He had found a large atrium, deciding to make it into their home. Using some old blankets and a damp box he had grabbed from the alley, he formed a bed for the babies. And for a few haunting hours, Lou had sat and contemplated the complete shitstorm his life had become as the babies peacefully slept.

And then a piercing wail broke through that fog.

Lou startled, a sharp gasp of surprise escaping him as his hand flew up to cover his heart. He looked over at the box, eyes wide and heart pounding as he carefully fished out the shrieking turtle. ‘Is it hurt?? What happened?!’

The other babies let out whimpers as their sibling was taken from them, but Lou ignored them as he turned the baby over in his hand. The turtle looked up at him, sniffling, before letting out another cry.

Lou flinched, his ears pinning down to his head to try and block out the noise. He patted the red-striped turtle’s shell soothingly, grimacing “It’s alright, it’s alright little turtle…what are you crying for?”

The baby paused, blinking a few times. Then a series of chirps escaped its beak, rapid and increasing in volume.

Lou winced again, rubbing his head. “My, you are a talkative one, aren’t you…”

‘Something’s wrong. It doesn’t seem to be hurt though— what’s the problem??’ Lou’s concern grew as the wails did in volume, even more so as the other babies joined in. He carefully set the red-striped one back with its siblings, but unfortunately that did not stop the cries.

And then it hit them.

‘They’re hungry! Oh I’m so stupid—’ How had he not thought of that?!

‘...What the hell do turtles eat?’

Well, it was time to find out. Lou hesitated as he looked back down at the babies, their tearful little eyes and wobbling lips striking his heart. His gaze softened as he scooped the babies up with their blanket, holding them to his chest. “Alright…let's go find you turtles some food.”

All four babies let out a chaotic little series of chirps, the red-striped one patting his little hands against the leathery-shelled one’s face. It immediately grumbled, snapping its teeth at the fingers.

Lou sighed, shaking his head fondly as the spiky one shuffled its way between them, chirping in annoyance before settling against the blanket with a little chirp. The orange spotted one seemed content to just rest beside its siblings, but its expression was twisted.

Hungry. The poor babies were still hungry.

Lou began making his way out of the atrium, heading back into the tunnels towards the ladder. He grimaced as his bare, spindly claws clicked against the grimy concrete below. He did not want to be doing this, doing any of this— all he wanted was to huddle up in a corner and cry.

But as the soft sniffling of the red-striped turtle started up again, that thought faded away in an instant. All that mattered right now was taking care of these little turtles.

Climbing up the slippery, wet ladder one-handed was a lot easier going up than down. Easier to see where he was going, at least. As he made it halfway— his arm slipped.

Heart lurching into his throat, Lou instinctively released his cargo to grab the ladder— before he immediately realized what he had done, and nearly dropped himself back down the ladder to catch the bundle.

‘Tell me they’re alright, tell me I didn’t already fail them—’

Lou could barely breathe as he carefully untucked the top of the blanket, counting one, two, three—

Three turtles.

Where was the red-striped one?! Lou’s ears were ringing, chest so painfully tight he could barely even think— and then a squeaky giggle caught his attention. The man turned his head, spotting the missing turtle sitting on the rung right over his head.

Lou blinked rapidly, the relief he felt near-dizzying. “What are you doing up there, you silly daredevil?” He reached a clawed hand out, gently scooping the baby back into his arms, and safely returning it to the blanket with its siblings. “Give me a damn heart attack, why don’t you…”

He finished climbing up the ladder, taking a moment to sit down outside and catch his breath. The rain seemed to have halted, dawn’s light gently painting the alley in a warm orange glow. As his panic slowly ebbed, guilt quickly encroached on where it had once been.

‘Why did I do that?! That was beyond reckless, so stupid— it could have died, they ALL could have!’ Lou swallowed tightly.

He was not cut out for this.

He had never wanted to be a parent. He blanched at the word, terror striking him. ‘I can’t be a father. I cannot be their father, they need someone better than me.’

But who? He couldn’t just leave them at a pet store and hope for the best, they clearly weren’t normal turtles anymore. It didn’t take a genius to realize that. The human world would never accept them. Leaving them somewhere up here would only be a death sentence, either some small-minded human would hurt them or bring them to a scientific laboratory to be—-

‘NOPE. NOPE. Do NOT follow that line of thought, you JUST calmed down from panic!’ He scolded himself, shaking his head. No, the human world would not be safe.

The Hidden City could be…maybe there was an orphanage that cared for children, maybe he could find them a good family. With parents who were equipped to handle them, ready to raise them, who wouldn’t put them in danger by climbing a wet ladder with them with one hand.

But…

‘If Draxum found them...’ No. No, that was not an option.

The turtles’ only option was him.

“I’m sorry…” He whispered, curling his knees to his chest as he cradled the babies closer. “You deserve so much more than me.”

The spiky turtle’s face scrunched up, an incoherent soft little murmur-babble leaving his beak as he gently patted Lou’s muzzle.

Lou chuckled wetly, smiling softly as the other little turtles followed the spiky one’s lead. “Thank you, little ones. I…I will do my best to care for you.” ‘I can only hope it will be enough…’ “Now. Let's find you food, shall we?”

The little turtles remained curled up in a little huddle together as he stood, eyes scanning the alley. His vision was still blurry— only further confirming his fear that this was permanent— but he spotted a large enough scrap of fabric to wrap himself in. The man carefully set the babies down as he did so, doing his best to cover every inch of exposed fur and otherwise rat-like traits.

A series of chirps caught his attention; Lou turned, heart leaping as he expected to find the babies in peril again— only to see them all messing with bits of fabric. It seemed it had come from a rainbow t-shirt, but the spiky turtle was hard at work chewing it to pieces, a scrap of red fabric still hanging from its jaws.

Lou chuckled, kneeling down to pull the fabric out of its mouth. “That’s not good food, little— uh…”

He forgot to name them.

‘I should probably do that.’ They needed good names, something meaningful…he couldn’t think of anything now, with his mind the chaotic spiral it had remained trapped in since he had escaped that wretched lab.

He glanced around between all the babies again, noting the colors they were on— or, in the spiky one’s case, currently chewing on—- ‘WHERE DID IT GET MORE?!’ — Red, Blue, Purple, Orange.

“I’ll call you all that for now. While I think.” He muttered, scooping the little ones back up. Maybe he could take pieces of cloth on the way back, give them each little necktie bandanas? Whatever. That didn’t matter right now; what did matter, was finding these babies something to eat.

…Maybe visiting a pet store wasn’t such a terrible idea. Just to ask what to feed a turtle. That would be his first step. Then he would find said food, get the babies properly fed and bring them back to that atrium…and then…

Then…take it day by day. Raise them as best he could. It was all he could do now.

Lou was far out of his depth.

But maybe…

Maybe everything would be alright in the end.

#rottmnt #rise splinter #tmnt write fight #save rottmnt #I love writing this rat so much #hes doing his best #FIRST ATTACK LETS GOOOO

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aimasup · 9 months ago

Text

Spoilers for The March 2024 Welcome Home Update, LONG post warning:

The Eddie Scene

Let's establish two realities: The Neighbourhood (theirs) and The Show (the humans').

(The third is ours, here, actually real, no black gunk and Welcome Home is just a really cool fictional horror project. Irrelevant, just wanted to bring us down to earth)

I like to believe it's an unaware Wreck-It-Ralph situation: The Neighbourhood exists as The Show because that's how they live and what they were created for.

They have a happy home in the commercials and episodes, interviews with humans and playfully leaning on the fourth wall (via Narrator). And when Playfellow Workshop had a really good influential show, they quite literally brought these puppets to life, perhaps too much.

That's where the trouble comes in; we don't know if the puppets being sentient was ever revealed to the public, or what the black rot even is yet. Personally I can't really even guess how much the other puppets know at the moment, not even Home. All we know is that Wally was the first to 'wake up', likely.

So I'm just gonna say what I think about the Eddie segment at the end of the commercial compilation from his perspective alone (bravo to the voice actors and artists my god).

The Neighbourhood...

The Show.

Here's what I assume: both in the Neighbourhood and The Show, Eddie is being given a break from working so hard. Because I believe the script/special was supposed to end here:

Eddie Dear was happy.

[calm jazz music as the title card fades in] And a Happy Homewarming to one and all! Ho Ho Ho!!

End.

Because it makes no sense why The Show staff would spend extra resources to give the puppet Not Quirky Anxiety and end their Christmas special on a worrying note for general audiences.

I think The Show staff wrapped up that scene and left to go check on the rest of the set or something, and the Eddie puppet was left there, alone in Wally's room set because its job is done. Except it isn't, and Eddie became aware somehow.

He sees Home, his friend, and something isn't right

I don't know what this is: my first thought was that it was Home's hand crank, and Eddie was seeing but not understanding the puppets behind the scenes

"Sources say, however, that this puppet’s (Home's) eyes could move through a hand crank on the other side of the prop facing away from the camera."

-(welcomehomerestorationproject.net)

His friend's eyes look dead but they're moving, I thought. But looking at it again, it looks more like a microphone stand a Show staff is holding? Some sort of set equipment. Speaking of the set

Wally's room is too big and leads to nowhere. Is this a visual representation for Eddie's mental state? Did they literally turn the lights off on set? Or can he not see everything right now because his poor fictional brain can't handle our reality just yet?

His hands are fuzzy but there's something in them. Something was under his skin just now. They don't feel like his hands.

"Eddie was a live-hand puppet who required two puppeteers to operate."

-(welcomehomerestorationproject.net)

I imagine he's in a limbo of awareness, he's seeing so many things and not quite understanding what they are, and he's getting more lost and panicked

Can you imagine how overstimulating it must be to go from a clean, happy children's fantasy reality to a world with the laws of physics?

The clock's ticking doesn't quiet down and it's constant. He's sweating when nothing is wrong (?). Gravy was poured on the tree ornament, he's always helped do that, but now it's dripping onto the floor and it's making a gross mess. Little things like that don't have consequences unless the script calls for it. Eddie doesn't know that, and especially he's freaked out by the breathing and the heartbeat.

Maybe it's Home's, or his own, or both, idk.

What's curious is that Frank and Sally are fine and talking about the day's events. This means that Eddie should've been fine after the episode too, relaxed like normal, but he didn't get to. He probably didn't even know when they got there or when Sally left.

This image right here? I think it symbolises the scary clash between both realities by now.

2 (Eddie and Wally) or 4 (counting Sally and Home) out of 9 neighbours being aware is too many. Frank wasn't supposed to have to comfort Eddie. The episode was supposed to end and Eddie can see all of it.

(and yeah maybe romance is an additional factor here)

We don't know if people remember seeing this scene on their televisions. Maybe the episode ended as normal for them. The cameras weren't rolling, so currently, we only get to witness the puppets' descent into decay because someone behind the television is Letting The Neighbourhood In, bit by bit.

Maybe we'll get to see all the other puppets go through the same awareness crisis as the website keeps updating. Personally, I don't think there's an ulterior motive for Home, nor do I think any of the puppets are under strict supervision to behave a certain way for filming episodes, like celebrities.

What freaks me out is that they banter with the narrator and do commercials for real products. They're aware of the fourth wall but only because the fourth wall let them be aware. And it even got me thinking about the nature of existing as a concept (they're fictional characters. they don't really exist? Not in the same way individual humans do anyway. They aren't really supposed to belong to themselves.)

Sorry this turned into ramble rubbish, these are just my thoughts, could be entirely wrong about everything. Welcome Home is just super neat and the amount of effort gone into it shows. Lemme know what yall think, kudos if you read this far

For your troubles 🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍯🥛🍵☕🍶

Extra note: I don't think they require the puppeteers to function outside of episodes either. They just live their lives chilling, don't even know there's a Show. Maybe there's an explanation but for now I'm content with 'it's magic'.

That being said I've seen other theories about the peas and the isolation of Eddie specifically those are real neat

#my post #welcome home #welcome home puppet show #welcome home spoilers #eddie dear #derealization #personal stuff #welcome home theory

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theeoriginals · 1 year ago

Note

klaus or elijah (your choice) x former flame!reader 👀

all i want | elijah mikaelson

+ Ohhh I loved your cat and mouse one! Could you please make a calm housewife/mom of the friend group type of girl and Elijah falling for her in a kind of best friend to lovers situation? Idk I just think it would fit cause elijah’s very family oriented and I see him falling for a dear old time friend too? Idk so uhm yeah. Feel free to refuse ofc!

elijah mikaelson x vampire!reader (no y/n)

author's notes; combining these requests :) hope that's ok!!

warnings; vague references to past violence but nothing insane. exes to friends to lovers, just plotless fluff, with an extra side of fluff. yes elijah is extremely charming, yes he can't make eye contact with a pretty girl. duality of man.

It’s an unspoken thing, what lingers between them still. Unspoken in the sense that they don’t talk about it, but everyone else does.

It always shocks people to learn that the oldest vampires on Earth are ridiculous, catty gossips. Elijah doesn’t know why it’s such a surprise. Living as long as they all have, you’ve got to keep things interesting, otherwise immortality becomes mind-numbing. He supposes that it just doesn’t measure up to their reputation for being ruthless animals, which isn’t unfounded. It’s just not the only thing they could be classified as.

Ruthless monsters that defend each other to the death at the end of the day, no matter how many times they’ve stabbed each other in the backs, certainly. Childish gossips that like to start rumors and rewrite history when they get a little bored, definitely. The two identifiers can coexist, and very much do.

And this thing, this unspoken thing that is unspoken for a multitude of reasons but none more so than the simple fact that even as long as they’ve known each other it’s still fragile, and something could break it with ease, is only unspoken to Elijah.

His brothers and sisters, however, like to do nothing but talk about it.

“Well, she’s almost here,” Rebekah rolls her eyes, but it’s just for the fact that her older brother is going to be a lovesick idiot the entire time the girl is here, and it really takes away from Rebekah’s own quality time with her. “No wonder Elijah’s been bumbling around like a fool all day.”

Klaus chuckles, and the two of them dutifully ignore the glare their brother sends them. “Do you think she sent him a letter to announce her arrival? Elijah always loves things like that,”

Rebekah’s blue eyes light up. “Oh, yes! I wonder if she sprayed it with her perfume– us ladies used to do that with a suitor back in the day,” She fans a hand towards her face, closing her eyes at the small breeze it creates. “They don’t text or call, of course, it takes all of the personality out of it. And god knows Elijah’s all personality,”

Klaus laughs again, and the two finally glance across the room to where Elijah’s leaning against a wall, glaring at them with his arms crossed over his chest.

“I hate you both,” He says, earning another round of laughter from them. “And stop going through my things, Rebekah. Those letters are none of your business.”

The blonde girl pushes her lips out in a pout. “But I get so bored, Elijah. You can’t be mad at me for entertaining myself,”

“I fear he just hates fun, dear sister,” Klaus says, feigning a wistful tone. “He doesn’t approve of my methods of entertainment either.”

“That’s because your methods of entertainment always end in a bloodbath,” Elijah says accusingly, earning a shrug from the hybrid. “You’re both immature. A thousand years old, still acting like children.”

Their faces twist in offense in unison, and Elijah distantly thinks that even though they’re not even fully related, let alone the same age even in their vampiric years, they were twins put on this Earth to terrorize him and ensure that he never knew peace.

Before they can begin their outcries of dramatized offense, and Elijah can continue to lightheartedly mock them, a voice comes from the hall, echoing fondly.

“Must you two always tease your brother?” The smile is obvious in her voice as she walks into the room, and the three of them snap their gazes towards the woman in surprise. “He’s a delicate soul, you know. His poor heart can’t handle too many jokes,”

Elijah recovers quickly, rolling his eyes, though he can’t (and won’t) stop the smile from growing on his face as she meets Rebekah for a hug. “Oh, wonderful. That’s just what they need. Encouragement.”

She chuckles at his poorly-feigned exasperation, and the sound settles in his ears like a morning dove’s song. She releases Rebekah from the hug and leans down to where Klaus is stretched out in a chair with his feet kicked up on the table, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Glancing around at the vaulted ceilings of the compound, she sighs wistfully. “I can’t believe this place looks the same as when you bought it,” She shakes her head in slight disbelief.

Klaus shrugs, crossing his arms over his chest. “When we first returned, there was some… cleaning up to do, but it’s maintained its shape wonderfully.”

If she catches onto his double entendre, she doesn’t say anything, just nods in understanding. That’s something Elijah has always liked about her– she lets things go unsaid. She’s always had the ability to connect with him and his siblings in a way that most others can’t, and even when Elijah is at his worst, she’s been that olive branch that he can grab onto to bring him back to himself. Always so understanding and level. It’s a wonder that she still associates with any of them, given their penchant for chaos.

Finally, she turns her attention onto him, and in its entirety he feels breathless. Even after decades of knowing one another, it’s never gotten easier to hide his ardor for her. He knows she can still read him as easily as she could thirty years ago, too.

“Elijah,” She says his name better than he’s ever heard it, with a tilt to her head and a fondness in her voice that makes him feel more alive than anything else he’s found in his centuries on this planet.

She crosses the room to where he’s at, because he froze in his spot as soon as he heard her voice, and wraps her arms around him like she’s never been more relieved to see him.

It’s another thing he’s always liked about her. She’s never stopped loving him. He knows that. Lives with it everyday.

Regrets a lot of things, too.

He says her name back as gently as he can, like she’ll break in his arms. He wonders if she thinks of all the times she has broken in his arms, and then he tells himself there’s no way she’s forgotten it, because he hasn’t. And that is something that is theirs and theirs alone.

She pulls away and he misses her touch the moment she goes because it feels rarer and rarer with each day that passes. Every time she leaves, he fears it’s the last time he’ll see her.

He doesn’t want to ruin her visit with these thoughts. Even though he knows she’d offer him endless comfort, he doesn’t want her to worry about him for a second.

She turns to face them, clapping her hands together with a smile. “Well, then. What’s first on the agenda?”

──────

Something that comes with living as long as Elijah has is learning that some things about yourself you’ll just never be able to change. Such things like being a vampire in itself, having a firm hand when it comes to doing business with people. He’s been told he’s somewhat of a snake, and he’s well aware of his silver tongued ways, and it’s something he knows he can’t change, and hasn’t ever wanted to.

One thing that has yet to fall under that category of acceptance is his jealousy.

In his defense, he’s never jealous when he thinks he should be. He’s never been jealous of his siblings, spare for a few embarrassing months spent around the doppelgängers, but Elijah has never had to envy someone for something they had because if he wanted it that bad, he could just take it.

But this. This he knows is jealousy, pure and unbridled, and nauseating, if he’s feeling that correctly.

This is the jealousy that he’s seen destroy entire regimes. This is the jealousy that has driven his family to madness at times.

And of course, she’s at the center of it all. Of course she is. There would be no other way he could feel this so strongly if she was not involved in it somehow.

She’s the source of a lot of jealousy, he knows. He’s jealous of the carefree relationships his siblings get to have with her because they don’t have to be burdened with the feelings of the past that are most definitely still there. They don’t have to worry if they looked at her lips for too long, or if they held her a little too gentle to be considered entirely friendly. They don’t have to worry about saying the wrong thing, stepping past that line they so carefully drew in the sand for everyone’s sake.

These are the consequences of his actions, he knows. It doesn’t make it any easier to deal with, though. It might make it worse.

Watching his siblings drink freely as the band played on was nothing unfamiliar. Patrons had long since joined in on the fun, and he’s sure there’s a crowd outside looking in on the celebration of unknown origins.

At the center of it all, she is there, standing on a table with a crowd of adoring admirers surrounding her as she swayed and moved to the music. He would swear there’s a light shining on her, just for her, projecting her shadow above everyone like some sort of angel. He thinks she has every right to be worshiped.

And the reason he’s so maddeningly, bitingly jealous is because he is the reason that he’s not the one dancing with her. He can’t be the one to dance with her, and he can’t be the one that makes her laugh like she is because he’s the one that said they shouldn’t be together. He is the one who broke her heart, and he doesn’t deserve an ounce of the kindness she still shows.

So all he can do is sip his drink at the bar and watch as she pulls his sister, sweet, dangerous, devastatingly insecure Rebekah, up onto the table with her and shares her spotlight with her. Making his sister light up like she does with no one else. Earning another round of cheers from Klaus and Kol as they watch on, demanding another round of drinks for everyone in an odd show of generosity.

She brings out the best in his siblings. In him.

It makes him burn bright inside. Boiling, hot to the touch. He knows then and there that there’s a reason he’s seen something as trivial as jealousy take down the most powerful of men. Love is such a dangerous thing to get involved in in the first place, but finding someone, finding the woman who makes you feel like you could conquer the world is something else entirely. It bypasses dangerous and heads straight into fatal.

Because she makes you feel like you could conquer the whole world, but the second you lose her, it all means nothing. You’ll tear it all down if it means she won’t be there, too.

And the worst part of it all is the only reason he feels like this is because he is the one that ruined it. Blamed his family, blamed his parents, blamed everything else but his own fears for the reason they couldn’t be together. The distance, the timing. Whatever he could grasp, he pulled it out of his pocket and gave it to her on a silver platter, served with a distant coldness he’d long since perfect, and never wanted to use on her in the first place.

He had so much time under his belt, but he was such a child. So helpless it bordered on criminal, all because he fell in love and he didn’t know what to do with it.

It’s embarrassing more than anything else.

He hasn’t taken his eyes off of her since she started dancing. Hadn’t stopped listening since he heard her first laugh. Didn’t want to miss a single second, just in case.

For the first time all night, he blinked and turned his head away from her and threw the rest of his drink back like it was water.

He could allow himself a bit more wallowing. Just a bit.

──────

“Well, Rebekah’s safe in bed. I even got her in pajamas, believe it or not,” Her voice carries even in its whisper, and he looks up from his lap as she enters the small living space, hands clasped in front of her as she takes a seat in the chair beside him. “Original vampire or not, I doubt she’ll feel very good in the morning.”

Elijah hummed, thinking of his dear sister and how even if she’d healed a thousand times over, she’d still find a way to complain. He adored it.

“What about you?”

He raises a brow, lips twisting confusedly. “What about me?”

She gestures towards his slightly slumped form on the couch pointedly. He follows her direction, looking at his rumpled suit, and the white button up he’d undone the top four buttons off, at least. He feels momentarily embarrassed at his state of disarray but he simply huffs out a laugh, lifting his gaze to meet hers again.

“I’m a mess,” He shrugs, earning a quiet laugh out of her. “But I don’t think that has anything to do with our drinking tonight.”

“I can’t disagree, unfortunately,”

He hides the way his grin threatens to split his face behind his face, rubbing along his scruffy jawline as he looks at her. The longer he lingers, the more she avoids his gaze.

“What?”

He shakes his head.

“Elijah,” She intones, such a familiar adoration in her voice that it nearly makes him sick. He doesn’t deserve it. “You’ve been so quiet tonight. What’s on your mind?”

“You,”

Her eyes widen in shock at his quick, candid answer, and he has to hide his own surprise at how quick the word had shot out of his mouth.

“Me? What about me?”

“Everything,” He sighs, shifting his long legs so he could turn towards her and give her his full attention. “I’ve missed you.”

“Oh,” She breathes out, looking slightly bashful. “Well, I always miss you. I wouldn’t ever leave if I didn’t–”

She stops herself, covering her mouth with her hand as a sheepish look crosses her face. He knows she wants him to move past her slip up, but he doesn’t. Can’t.

“If you didn’t, what?” He leans forward, looking at her imploringly. “Why do you stay away so long?”

She takes a moment to collect herself, picking at the skin around her nails half-heartedly, like it’s not really bothering her, she just doesn’t want to be so open right now. He’d feel worse about pushing her if he didn’t feel like his heart was leaping out of his throat.

“Well, I didn’t think you wanted me around that much,” She says quietly, gesturing towards him.

He rears back like she’s slapped him.

“How could you ever think such a thing?” He whispers her name, a distant veil of horror laced in his tone. Fear, really.

“You said,” She says, face furrowing in confusion. “All those years ago– you said that there was no reason for me to stay here with you in New Orleans. So, I– I left. And I travel all the time until I come back here for as long as you’ll let me.”

Elijah feels something gripping his chest and it feels remarkably like his heart is breaking.

His voice breaks on her name and he leans forward again, reaching into her space to grab her hands in his. Allowing himself this piece of her that he simply doesn’t deserve.

“I never,” He stops, breathing out harshly. “I never wanted you to leave. I just–”

He stops again, squeezes her hands, and then steels himself because this is the least he owes her.

“You deserved more than to be stuck here with my family,” He starts slowly. “I never– I never wanted you to leave. Every time you walk out of those doors, I want to chase you down and make you stay. You have to believe me when I say that I only ever wanted you to be happy, and you wouldn’t have found that stuck here in the mess we had made back then.”

There’s a poignant silence that settles as she processes his words, and he holds the ragged breath that builds in his chest when she begins to drag her thumbs along the backs of his hands, smoothing at the skin there. Ever so gentle.

“All I’ve ever wanted was to be here with you and your family,” She says, shaking her head like she’s scolding him, even though her tone is anything but. “Being here makes me happier than any place I’ve traveled to. And I’m– I’m truly grateful that you had my best interest in mind, Elijah, but you have to understand,”

She trails off and an incredulous laugh leaves her lips as she smiles at him. “I’ve loved you my entire life. And my heart used to break every day knowing that I’d only have a short time with you. When I turned, I was so– I was so happy because I suddenly had the rest of time to be with you. And you… you broke my heart, Elijah. You truly did,”

She presses her thumbs into his skin firmly, just a pressure point to punctuate her words. “But I have never stopped loving you. And every time I walked out of those doors and left you behind, my heart broke again. You wouldn’t have ever had to make me stay. That’s all I’ve ever wanted to do.”

Elijah’s breath stalls in his chest, and lets it out slowly, shakily. There’s a distant string of hope he lets himself pull on, just this once. Because she let him.

He meets her gaze and smiles softly, just for her. “Will you stay, then? I’m– I’m asking you, truly. Will you stay?”

She nods before he even finishes speaking and laughs quietly, the sound just for him. “Of course I will, Elijah. I’ll stay as long as you want me to,”

“Forever,”

“Forever, then. I’ll stay forever.”

#elijah mikaelson #klaus mikaelson #rebekah mikaelson #the vampire diaries #the vampire diaries fanfiction #kol mikaelson #the originals #fic recs #elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikaelson fanfiction #elijah mikaelson imagine #elijah mikaelson fluff #the originals fanfiction

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emelinstriker · 2 years ago

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☆ Playing Monkey King VR ☆

That episode is still engraved in my head with how much the game MK was playing looked like an actual game one could play irl, and I'm still salty about how it's not an actual game.

Also my hyperfixation picked these three for these headcanons- And I'm aware about how the game is implied to have been created by Wukong himself, but we shall ignore that fact for a sec-

☆ ~ Headcanons ~ ☆

☆ Sun Wukong

>His ego just skyrocketed and won't be coming back to earth for a long time; may Buddha have mercy on your poor soul

>Expect him to watch you play everytime with a smug grin

>You can clearly see his tail swish around happily whenever he sees you react to one of the Sun Wukong character sprites (Especially towards the images of him being buffer than usual)

>You know how the game's Wukong would keep stopping the game's MK just to give him a bunch of tips and tutorials? He's actually doing that to you while you're playing, but with a lot more telling on what exactly he wants you to do (Backseat gamer smh)

>"Go back! Go back! You ran past an important quest item for the endgame!"

>Will distract you a lot by leaning into you from the side or from behind, or wrapping his tail around you in the middle of a battle

>You're struggling with a boss (cuz of him distracting you lmao)? Hand him your controller, right fucking now, he'll use his knowledge to beat the shit out of them for you

>Don't get your hopes up of him doing minigames and puzzles for you however, he absolutely sucks at even those easy-level ones

>If the game has a PvP mode and you have a second controller, expect him to want to duel you just to show off

>You can distract him by scratching his fur or touching his tail in the middle of it as revenge though

☆ Macaque

>Bro would be so salty if he sees you play this game it's not even funny

>He was actually thinking you were talking to the actual Sun Wukong when he heard his voice coming from your living room

>Once you give him a description of the game, it doesn't exactly lower his saltiness over you playing a game based on his nemesis and his successor

>"Why do you not have the option to fight Wukong?"

>"Be happy this isn't a dating sim, Mac..."

>"...The fuck is that supposed to mean"

>I would highly suggest playing whenever your monkey's out of house just to avoid the risk of him deleting the game from your console- It was a paid game after all with roughly 10 hours of playtime on your save file

>You can't tell me he isn't a master at any puzzle at any given difficulty. He could do all puzzles for you!

>Doesn't mean he would

>Jk, he would solve them when you're not looking or when he's bored- or even reluctantly with you if you beg enough cuz he loves you too much

>That doesn't stop him from either leaving you with a clone or spy at your gameplay as a shadow when he got time

>Unironically enjoys watching you play and beat up all those enemies with a smile

>Will deny it if you ask him if he's been watching you play from the shadows

☆ MK

>Excited noodle boy

>Would try to figure out if there's a way to co-op the story quest part

>ABSOLUTELY will play it himself when you introduce the game to him; I mean, it's about Monkey King??

>WILL gush about his hero, Monkey King, despite being his successor

>Will be lowkey annoyed if you refuse to skip cutscenes and are actually listening in on the tutorials and stories- It's evident by his constant whining and groaning

>But it's all good, he could never stay mad at you over it!

>You actually have to pry the controller away from his grasp from time to time- He will not stop to take a break until this boss is down!

>Dear gods, he's been playing for like 12 hours straight now, please knock him out and get him to bed- He won't be beating the boss like this

>Has a lot of fun doing easy-level minigames and puzzles, but does struggle with puzzles later on so you better help him

>"I'm getting the hang of this! But why isn't the strongest skill in the game working on this guy??"

>"The tutorial literally tells you to counter him, dummy"

>"Ugh! Why does it keep healing itself?? It should've died like half an hour ago!"

>"If only you read the boss description at the start of the battle..."

> Link to Masterlist <

#lmk x reader #lego monkie kid #sun wukong x reader #macaque x reader #mk x reader #six eared macaque #monkey king x reader #i should be in bed #headcanons

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peachshadows · 5 months ago

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With lmk s5 finally released i promised ya'll that i would post a chapter of scum villain rip off so here it is! Just a bit of context this is basically where Wukong gets trapped under the mountain leaving Macaque to rule alone in FFM with an appearance of Erlang Shen.

---

“Y’know, monkey, your very existence annoys me.” He leans against the cavern wall, nonchalantly looking at his nails as if that was more interesting than being choked by hot coal.

Wukong spits out the burning coal. He honestly lost count how many times his throat and tongue practically melted and regenerated. Over and over and over again. It was torture. But not as torturous as talking with Erlang Shen. “Tell me something I don't know.”

Erlang Shen lets out a serene smile as if he remembered something fond and that alone makes him want to spit the coal at his stupid face. “Well then, would you like to hear about how our dear Macaque is faring?”

Hearing Macaque’s name made all the noises in his head go quiet. Just hearing his moonlight name was enough to soothe him like a calming balm on his soul but what frankly canceled it out was Macaque’s name coming out of the shameless god’s mouth.

“…Macaque?” He whispered brokenly, his throat reforming itself.

“Yes, yes. He’s been so stressed lately.” Erlang Shen turns to finally face him, a cruel smirk dancing on his face. “Taking over a kingdom can be quite taxing but don’t worry he’s in safe hands, better hands than your bloodied demonic claws-”

“Do NOT touch him,” he snarls at the god because how dare he? How dare he touch someone that was his to take care of, his to love and devote his entire being to. How dare this second rate being have the audacity to even mess what’s his.

Erlang Shen laughs, high and mighty; cruel and cold. “And what are you gonna do? Defeat me? If anything, this great one is doing you a favor.”

If he could, he would’ve already punched the living shit out of the god. Alas, he’s stuck under a mountain where he doesn’t even get the luxury of seeing the sun. But, he does get the unfortunate luxury of talking with Erlang Shen. So he tries to even his breathing. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Do you really need this great one to spell out for you, Great Sage?” The god spits his title like it was something disgusting. “He’s happy, joyous now that you’re gone.”

“You lie-”

“And why would this great one lie? You’ve been nothing but a nuisance, a hindrance to him.” Erlang Shen gets closer, slamming both of his hands above Wukong, baring his teeth as if he’s some demon and not a powerful deity. “Your greed, your lust for power drove Macaque into a corner where he was left with a decision of either sacrificing his idiotic friend or have the rest of your people be slaughtered. And he chose smartly.”

His first instinct was disbelief, a cruel joke that the god is telling him. But the more that Erlang Shen spoke, the more he’s painted a picture of Macaque, smiling freely and unboundedly, with all the citizens of Mount Huaguo at his side, and the worst part, he can clearly see Erlang Shen beside Macaque as the two make a powerful beautiful duo. A match made in heaven. Who else can deserve Macaque but a powerful high ranking god?

“…He chose you.”

The god smirks at his defeated figure before summoning his spear. “Goodbye, Sun Wukong. I have more important matters to deal with.”

And finally leaves the False Sage Equal to Nothing in a burst of light.

And if the earth could hear him, they would’ve heard his screams of anguish and anger practically shake the mountain.

—

It’s been 502 years since Wukong’s imprisonment, or rather his supposed “death,” and Macaque knows by now that his king is already on his journey, gathering as much power and maidens in his grasp as he can before he reaches back to Mount Huaguo. He can’t help but feel a pang of dread at the thought of Wukong returning.

There was no turning back. No amount of kindness and servitude can save him from his inevitable death by Wukong’s hands.

He kneels for however long right before where the staff–his king’s rightful staff–used to lay as he mulls over his options now. Could he escape? No, that would just lead to death as well. Maybe, he can beg for mercy? No, that wouldn’t make sense with Macaque’s character. Maybe, he could-

“Mihou-shixiong, there you are.” He turns to see Rin Rin in all her soft glory, gripping her hands in a nervous manner. The absence of Wukong must’ve really gotten to her if he could practically see the worry affecting her usually cheerful face.

“Rin Rin,” he says softly, standing from his kneeled position as he approaches her. “How are you? I know Wukong’s absence has been affecting us all but-”

She shakes her head. “Not as much as it's affecting you, Shixiong. We’re all worried for you.”

Affecting him? Of course it has been affecting him, he will soon die a painful death, Rin Rin!

“You barely draw anymore. You go outside only to visit Wukong’s shrine. And you only accept visitors when it's the Generals or Erlang Shen. At least let Qi Xiaotian accompany you. I know you two have gotten close over the past centuries and he understands the pain you’re going through.”

That stuns him quite a bit. She’s not exactly wrong…He has stopped drawing ever since Wukong’s imprisonment but who can honestly blame him? Seeing the protagonist draw was an inspiring thing and without that, it just felt silly to continue on without him. He does only visit Wukong’s shrine but only because it was the only quiet place where no one would disturb him. Ever since Macaque was crowned as regent king, beings of Mount Huaguo always sought him out for solutions of problems or even just so they could stare at him and whisper behind his back. It was humiliating being the center of attention. It’s quite frankly the first time Macaque ever got nervous in front of people. So he hid. Only ever allowing General Liu, Erlang Shen, the General, Rin Rin, and MK to visit him.

But he doesn’t voice those thoughts out, instead he returns to kneel in front of the empty shrine and continue on as if Rin Rin isn’t there.

He hears Rin Rin let out a sigh filled with frustration, but instead of leaving, she kneels along with him, leaning her head on his shoulder. Hopefully, Wukong doesn’t find out about Rin Rin needing a shoulder to cry on or else…he shudders thinking about the many ways Macaque gets tortured.

“Your sworn brothers are asking for you,” she mumbles.

“...What do they want?” he eventually asks.

“You’re needed at their kingdom.”

“Can’t I just ignore them?”

She snorts quietly. A small smile formed on her face. “It’s urgent, Macaque.”

It must be really serious if she’s calling him by his name and not by his title. So with a great sigh, he reluctantly says, “Fine. Gather some disciples and get General Liu to accompany me.”

#shadowpeach #scum villain rip off #lmk #lego monkie kid

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brotherwtf · 20 days ago

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Age gap AU, how Gale and John deal with Bucky's PTSD?

I would say from a normal person stand point not well but to them they're thriving I think

John had done two tours, one in Vietnam and one during the Gulf war, a pilot of helicopters and fighter planes during both bombing campaigns, while not as gruesome as WWII would have been, he still has seen some shit

he'd seen his friends die, had to watch paratroopers and soldiers get burnt alive in burning forests, had heard the screams of soldiers dying, had seen planes go down like flies and could do nothing to protect them

when John and Gale had first met, John wasn't doing great, he had nightmares every night, slept with a knife under his pillow and a gun in the side drawer, his hands always shook and his brain couldn't convince itself that he was safe, he still felt like he was flying over enemy territory, dodging missiles and MiG's, always watching his six in case someone came up from behind, in short John was very much struggling when he met Gale

helping Gale helped to lessen the demons that haunted him at night, it was second nature almost to have someone rely on him, someone who needed him. It felt normal, almost, to have someone to protect, brought him back down to earth a little bit

he would still have nightmares, though, even after he and Gale starting living together and dating, and the first time he sprung up from his bed screaming with Gale laying beside him was a horrible night. Gale didn't quite understand what was going on, John barely talked about serving, so when he woke to John screaming beside him, thrashing his arms and blindly searching for something on his bedside table, but Gale just shushed him, sat up and held his arm, told John that it was okay, he's safe, he's going to be alright

and John looks manic, looks feral, almost, and Gale's horribly frightened because he's never seen this happen to anyone before, but by God he's going to stay by John's side and they're going to get through this

after a while, Gale's able to calm John down, a hand on his arm and on his back, keeping a respectable distance in case John lashes out again, telling him it's going to be alright, and John would nod his head, keel over into Gale's shoulder and breathe heavily, holding onto him with a vice grip that Gale refuses to admit hurts, he's going to be here for John no matter what

Gale manages to coax what he needs from John, what happens when he wakes up screaming, why he always looks behind him nervously in crowded areas, he doesn't ask John for the full story, only needs bits and pieces so that he can help John feel safe

Gale becomes a pro at it eventually, knows not to hold onto John whenever he wakes up thrashing, grabs his arms only so he doesn't flail around, forces John to look at him so he knows that he isn't in the skies over north Vietnam, he's here in bed with Gale, makes John look at him whenever they're in crowded places so he isn't constantly checking his six, a warm smile on Gale's face as he continues their mundane conversation to keep John distracted

some days are worse than others, especially after John's second tour he sometimes can go non-verbal for a whole day, stuck in a continuous loop of screams and whirring plane engines, but Gale knows to just talk through it, John will eventually find his voice through the mud

John copes healthier now, doesn't drink or smoke as much because he knows how much Gale doesn't like it, but it doesn't really matter, Gale's a better fix than any other vice he can get his hands on :))

these traumatized boys oh dear they're perfect for each other

#clegan #mota #buck x bucky #john egan #gale cleven #asks #age gap au

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asgardianechoes · 13 days ago

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Criminals

Loki x Reader

Prompt: ‘Let’s rob an ATM!’

Reader was a scammer before she/he joined the Avengers.

Summary: You ran out of money to buy merch of a new movie you got obsessed with and Loki, of course, comes up with an idea.

Word Count: 1.6k

Also, I headcannon that he has a pocket dimension and blue eyes.

You and Loki. The infamous troublemakers in New York. One of which had led an army against the world and the other had scammed thousands to hand over their money. Both of you had been taken in by the Avengers to atone for your sins and help Earth’s Mightiest Heroes to protect their planet against whatever threat that dared step foot on the land. But that doesn’t mean you didn’t play by the rules. You and Loki constantly tried to prank people or even each other, just for the fun of it. With Loki on your side, you could get away with anything. He’s the God of Mischief after all.

You viewed each other as friends, nothing more. Although your mind often pictured how it would be like if you were more than that. Sometimes it disappointed you that you couldn’t be closer, but that’s only a thought that seldom came to mind. This was, so far in your opinion, enough.

It was a sunny day when you took note of a new movie that came out. A few hours later, you were absolutely obsessed with it. Determined to stuff your room with merchandise of that movie, you went to your bank account, on which Stark put money into it monthly. Your excitement didn’t last long, though. Your account was empty because of the load of food you’d bought for the last movie night. Frustrated, you shut your laptop and went to sulk.

Of all the times I can run out of money, now has to be the time? You asked yourself, burying your face in your pillow for comfort. Asking Tony was a No-Go, he’s just gonna tell you to spend more wisely next time. Not gonna lie, you weren’t exactly fond of asking the Avengers for things. Due to the fact that you’re a scammer, they looked down at you, even if it’s just a little. Only some people truly accept you, like Natasha, Bruce, or Bucky, because they know what it’s like to be looked at like that.

Loki… You could of course ask him, but will he cooperate? He wasn’t one to give money, even if you were close. You remember the last time you asked him to buy you merch. Didn’t turn out well.

Why… you need to learn to spend less money like this, my dear friend, he said with his signature smirk. No matter how you pushed or prodded, he wouldn’t yield. His willpower, let’s say, is very strong.

Oh, fuck this, you thought, rising from your bed and fighting the swirling feeling in your skull. I’m gonna ask him and I’ll deal with it. Swinging the door shut behind you, you set off to Loki’s room.

Loki answered your hard, sharp knocks almost immediately. He was wearing a wool long-sleeve shirt along with some relax pants. He sure was getting used to Midgardian clothes fast…

He raised his eyebrows when he saw you. ‘Well, come in, Y/n,’ he said, opening the door wider so you could step in. You walked into his living room gingerly, as if a bomb might go off any second.

He snapped the door shut behind you. ‘Out with it,’ he smirked sharply. ‘What is it that troubles so that you must come to me?’

You took a deep breath before saying: ‘It’s nice to see you too, Loki.’ Taking a seat, you waited for him to also settle down, as if you were at a conference meeting.

He sat on the armchair opposite you, blue eyes never leaving yours. After a while, he asked: ‘Very well… what is it?’

You fidgeted with your fingers, looking at the coffee table separating you two, unsure of what to say. ‘Um… I kind of need your help,’ you tried shyly.

He tutted softly, nodding. ‘Yes, I noticed. Otherwise you wouldn’t have come.’

You rolled your eyes. Why can’t he learn to read minds? That’s definitely something he should put on his to-do list. ‘Well, you see…’ you started, ‘I found this really good movie… and… um…’

He raised his eyes to the heavens. You frowned, moving your head to the side. ‘What?’

‘I should have known.’ He answered. ‘Let me guess. You found a nice movie and now you want merch, correct?’ You nodded.

‘But… You don’t have the money to buy it.’ He continued. You nodded again.

‘And now,’ He paused dramatically, ‘you want me to help you buy it, am I right?’ He emphasized the last three syllables, smirking all the way. You nodded but didn’t bring your head back up.

‘But of course you’d come to me for that… Here’s all you need to know: No.’ He said with royal finality. You jumped up at this statement, kicking the coffee table along the way, staring at him in disbelief.

‘No?? What do you mean, no? Come on, you’re the only one I’ve got! Why can’t you-‘ you ranted, panicking but he broke you off, chuckling. By far too calm, he motioned for you to sit back down.

‘I was jesting, Y/n. I am not one to decline such an entertaining task, especially from you,’ he smiled. You sighed in relief, happy that you weren’t as helpless as you’d deemed yourself to be. Something warmed your heart as he said these words.

‘Although-,’ he began again, and your panic came back by far too fast. ‘Wait, there’s an “although”? Does that mean you can’t-‘ he made an ah-ah-ah look as he held up his finger to shut you up.

‘Let me finish. Norns, aren’t you sensitive today? I meant that we can’t be breaking into Stark’s account because that would ruin us completely. We should gain money another way. Now,’ he said, looking at you intensely so you wouldn’t retaliate, he continued: ‘we will not be achieving such money through scamming because we would also be screwed if we do so. You can forget about using mine, I need that for books. So I was thinking…’ he paused dramatically again, ‘we could, with great care and precaution, rob an ATM machine.’

Your jaw dropped when he said this. Rob. A. Freaking. ATM machine? Was this guy for real? Like, no! We are not robbing a freaking ATM machine! You were starting to think that sulking in your room was better than trying to get money (FROM AN ATM MACHINE) for merchandise.

Loki noticed your nervous look and added quickly: ‘I promise we will not be found. Why so scared? We’ve done far worse than this.’

‘Yes but,’ you half wailed at him, ‘we’ve never done something illegal before… you know what? I’m just gonna sulk in my room and pretend this never happened. See you-‘

‘Hang on, hang on,’ he called after you, ‘what if I told you I’d get you a vinyl player?’

You stopped in your tracks. Oh my God does this guy know how to get you to do something. You turned back to him. ‘You’d buy me one?’

He smiled with unexpected affection. ‘With all the vinyls you’d like to have.’

‘Fine.’ You huffed before heading to the door again. Before you closed the door, you heard him call: ‘I’ll come get you around twelve – get ready for some excitement.’ You really hoped he was right.

You heard a knock at exactly midnight. Breathing heavily, you reached for the doorknob. The day had passed way to fast, and your nervousness was getting to you. The closer your hand got to the door, the faster your heart pounded in your chest. Gathering up your lost courage, you opened the door to reveal Loki, entirely clothed in black leather, standing in your doorway.

‘That took slightly longer than I’d usually expect from you,’ he commented, gesturing you to follow him out and into the hallway. He shut the door for you, and put his hand on the small of your back. Again, warm feeling glowed in you for no reason.

‘Loki,’ you said with an unusually stutter voice when you reached the front door, ‘maybe we shouldn’t… I mean, it’s illegal, after all…’ but he merely chuckled at your feeble attempt to ruin his plans for the night and led you away from the building and further towards the closest bank. Your heart pumped blood faster than ever, your body seemed to forget how to move. Loki’s arm led you, and you, to your own surprise, followed suit.

When you arrived at the bank, you were full-on regretting it, even if he offered a vinyl player. He noticed this and motioned for her to follow him into an alleyway next to the bank. Once you were both fully submerged in shadow, he spoke up.

‘I know that you’re nervous, but I swear, we will not get in trouble for this. I am not lying,’ he added, seeing that your nervous look didn’t leave. ‘But what if-?’ you retaliated.

‘I will change our looks and clothes so that even if we are seen, we’d be off their suspects list, alright?’ he asked encouragingly. Finally, you gave a little nod before letting his magic flow over your body, changing your appearance ad clothing.

Afterwards, you pulled on the door. Locked. You approved. Hopefully this will stop Loki- yeah no he went and magicked the lock to unlock itself… Loki pushed the door open, leading you inside the darkened room. Everything was going to plan… for now.

‘There’s our treasure,’ he said, pointing towards the line of ATMs. Hurrying you long, he stuck out his hand to cast another spell to unlock the ATM itself. Your breathing was shallow as you watched him do his thing, and soon enough stacks of money came to your eyes. You watched him load it all into a small green vortex that appeared in mid-air that opened to his pocket dimension. Once he finished, he looked up at you with triumph.

‘There. That should be enough for your merchandise.’

You nodded silently, turning to look aimlessly into the night. Out of the corner of your eye you say flashing lights. Cops. Holy shit are you screwed. You whipped around, scream-whispering to Loki: ‘Cops!’ His expression immediately changed as he looked over your shoulder. ‘Run,’ was all he said before grabbing you and tearing towards the back exit.

It didn’t take long before your legs started to burn. You’ve never been an athletic person and the sudden run took a toll on you. You were a scammer, not an Olympian athlete!

Loki noticed as fast as lightning and didn’t seem to come up with a better idea than to just carry you bridal style and run at top speed. You were unsure how he did it, you guessed it was because of his godly strength.

Those minutes passed in a blur. In no time you were back at the Avengers’ Headquarters, clawing at Loki’s leather shirt. He had removed the disguise along the way.

‘Did… did we lose them?’ you asked, putting in the code to enter the building. It buzzed loudly in the night, and you and Loki slipped in. The lights suddenly went on and caused you two to whip around, looking wildly for a threat. But instead of finding some bad guy, you found Natasha sitting at the desk with her feet on the edge of the table, staring at you with a knowing look. You were frozen in place. Nothing can pull you out of this one anymore.

Loki was the one who came to his senses first. He flicked his finger at her and looked her directly in the eye. ‘You did not see anything tonight.’

She smirked, rolling her eyes. ‘Nope, I didn’t. Also, I’m only doing this for Y/n’s sake, so don’t get your hopes up, Reindeer Games.’

Loki scoffed at her, with no offence, of course: ‘Whatever you say, you mewling quim.’

You watched silently as they had a staring contest. At some point, Natasha turned to you and said: ‘You might as well get to bed. You don’t want any of us knowing you went and did something bad with this guy.’

‘Yeah,’ you replied, relieved that she wasn’t exactly angry at you, ‘yeah, I’ll do that.’

And you rushed off back to your room, hoping that Loki keeps his part of the deal and brings over a vinyl player the next day.

ANYWAYS guys thanks for reading this!!

Taglist: @vbecker10 @simplyholl @mischiefmaker615 @lokisgoodgirl

Tell me if you want to be part of my taglist!

#loki marvel #loki of asgard #god of mischief #loki x reader fluff #loki fanfiction #loki x you #loki x reader #loki x y/n

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marvelwitchergilmore · 1 year ago

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Every Little Thing (Is Magic)

Summary: Loki x Fe!Reader -> You and Loki are friends, but what happens when some pain-in-the-ass magician decides to stick his powers in where they're not wanted?

Disclaimer: This is part one. Not proof-read. Watched Supergirl and felt like writing. Like, comment and reblog for part two. Fluff, humor?, Loki being more excited than a puppy for a hot minute.

If someone had told you years ago that one day you would be hanging out with The Avengers only to find yourself in a compromised situation that included yourself, The God of Mischief and a multi-universal-pain-in-the-ass magician - you wouldn’t have believed them.

Hell, you couldn’t believe it was happening, even when it was right in front of your eyes.

When you had joined the team via the recommendation of Clint Barton, you hadn’t expected to find a close friendship in The God of Mischief himself but, surprisingly, you had.

And somehow, between first meeting and the present time, you and Loki had found yourselves having a movie night each Friday.

He enjoyed, despite denying it for a while, the world you lived on. Maybe it wasn’t as grand or glistening as Asgard, but it had its moments. The way the rain fell on an empty afternoon. The way the sun would rise just over the horizon each morning and had every place on the earth look so magical, even the darkest corners looked like a paradise.

But, half-way through the second viewing of Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves, someone interrupted your peace time.

Loki had been sitting on the sofa and immediately jumped when he heard a second voice and you let out a short scream before dropping the glass bottle of milk on the floor.

“Oh, I am sorry. Here, let me.”

The guy, dressed in a dark suit and fedora, waved his hand and the milk was cleaned up and disappeared in an instant. A second movement and a brand new bottle appeared on the side of the counter, fresh and cold.

“Who are you?”

“That isn’t of importance.” He waved off.

“I believe the lady asked you a question.”

The nameless man turned around on his heels with a smile. “Ah, Loki. I’ve met many of you. Nice to see you again. Please, there is no need for weapons here.”

With a move of his hand, Loki’s weapons had disappeared leaving both you and him shocked.

“Now, I was hoping we could both speak.”

Your head was trying to register everything but it was having a difficult time not trying to kill the man in front of you.

“Who are you?” you asked again.

“Not of importance.”

“I believe it is.” you replied.

The man smiled. “Well, if you must call me something, call me…Vel. Short for Velho.”

You leaned a little to view Loki past Velho, to which he seemed a little offended.

“Do you recognise the name?”

Loki thought for a moment before looking at Velho. “It’s Finnish for Wizard.”

“You’re a wizard?”

Again, he looked offended.

“Darling, couldn’t you already see that?” He shrugged. “Never mind. Besides, we’re wasting time. Why don’t we get on with it?”

“Get on with what? Look, Velho, I don’t know where or…what you are but, please, if you need help, we can-”

Velho laughed. “Oh, darling, I don’t need help. But my help is needed.”

“What on earth for-?”

Suddenly the room around you disappeared and rather than being your apartment, it spun and changed until you were in a large ballroom with long and grand-designed tables and crystal chandeliers.

“That’s better, don’t you think?”

“Whoa, wait a moment-”

Suddenly, with a snap of his fingers, Velho made Loki disappear.

“Whoa! What - Where did you send him?”

Velho was circling you with a finger pressed to his lips and his mind running wild. “Don’t worry, dear. He’s just getting ready.”

You stood tall. “Where?”

“Nowhere important.” Velho sized you up with his fingers as if he was measuring a painting from far away. “Ah, yes. That’s it.”

You yelped as you felt your feet shift from under you and your entire outfit that had consisted of comfortable pyjama bottoms and a long sleeve t-shirt changed into a corset tight wedding dress which put Enchanted to shame.

“What the hell?”

“Yes, I agree. Much too poofy. How about-”

Velho waved his hand again and you spun until you found yourself in an entirely new dress. Less poofy but much more lace.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Getting you ready.” Velho replied as if you knew what he was talking about.

“Getting ready for what?”

“Much too lace. You look like a botched job at a Victorian Era wedding. Ah, I think I’ve got it.”

You didn’t pay attention to the next dress but the moment you stopped spinning you put your hands out and Velho stopped talking.

“Hold on! What are you getting me ready for? And don’t you dare say it’s not important. And where is Loki? Bring him back, now.”

Vehlo smiled. “He’ll be here in a few minutes. But why don’t you take a look.”

A mirror appeared behind him and as he stepped out of the way, you saw the dress he had put you in.

The open sleeves draped down to the floor with elegant gold details. The dress had a transparent, hand-crafted opening whilst velvet fabric bookended it. The shoulders contained the same golden detail and the train seemed to continue on forever behind you, and the veil that was attached to the flower crown that adorned your head was longer still.

Your hair had changed too.

From the messy and dirty bun you had thrown it into, you found it clean, curled and framing your face in a way you always wished to have got it, but in reality had never been successful.

Wisps of glitter seemed to float around you, blessing you with a romantic essence you never believed you could hold.

You looked like you had just stepped out of a fairytale story.

“And to hide it from your groom.”

A soft wave of his hand and you found a simple cloak wrap over your shoulders only to find the inside like silk against your skin with gentle details of ivy, lavender and roses all on a golden background.

Carefully, Velho moved the hood to sit on the crown of your hair where it draped down and hid your beauty whilst somehow showing it off secretly to the world.

Now you were definitely in a fairytale.

“Wait. Groom?”

“Ah,” Velho stepped back. “I almost forgot.”

With a snap of his fingers, Loki suddenly burst in through the double doors down the hall causing you to turn.

He must have been running down multiple corridors, trying to find the right one to find you because once he laid his eyes on you, there was a complete look of exhaustion and relief.

“Thank the gods, you’re okay.”

“I’m okay.”

Only now did you realise what he was wearing.

A suit.

A wedding suit.

Now you snapped your attention back to Velho. “What are you doing?”

“Just what should be happening sooner than later.”

“What?”

You found the room spinning again and you found yourself back in your apartment, in your pyjamas except for your hair which was not messy or dirty but clean and in soft waves and half pulled back.

“But I can see you’re both not just quite ready for that yet. But maybe I can hurry things along a little bit.”

The look in Loki’s eyes suddenly changed and you were taken aback as he opened up his arms, called your name and came towards you.

“My love, I have been waiting centuries for you and I have finally found you. I love you.”

Loki continued in a romantic speech, hugging you multiple times in between. Meanwhile, you stood awkwardly, not quite knowing how to accept the sudden over the top affection.

“What did you do to him?”

“Oh, nothing.”

You pulled yourself from Loki’s arms and rushed away from him only to find him back at your side again.

He kept calling you “My love,” and complimenting you to the high heavens.

“Turn it off.”

Velho smiled and clicked his fingers and within seconds Loki was on the floor, holding his head.

“What the hell just happened?”

You bent down and looked at him. “Follow my finger.”

“I feel like I’ve just hit my head a thousand times over on a rock.” Loki told you. “Is this what a hangover feels like?”

You shrugged. “Sometimes. Depends on the drink. Are you still in love with me?”

Loki looked at you a little confused. “No more than usual.”

“Let me help you.”

Loki stood with your help, still holding his head. “What happened?”

“He did.”

“Guilty.” Velho smiled. “Now, I best be off. And, just a small warning darling, his powers don’t work on me. Nobody’s do. So, you’re just gonna have to figure this one out without magic. See you soon, my darling.”

“No, no, no, no, no-”

A snap of his fingers, a click of his heels and a hand behind his back, Velho smiled and Loki went from panic to having so much adoration and love for you, it surpassed that of a puppy when its owner comes home. Meanwhile, your panic turned into annoyance as Loki held you in his arms so tightly, it no longer felt like him.

There had to be a way to fix it.

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olivia200312 · 4 months ago

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Chapter 2: Staying || Bound By Destiny (Ardyn Izunia x Reader)

Summary:

You may have read stories of girls (and boys) being teleported into gaming worlds such as Final Fantasy XV, but have you ever imagined that one of them gets teleported into our world? Y/N is a 25-year-old young woman who just escaped from an abusive relationship. One night, an unexpected thing happened while Y/N was about to sleep. A canon character got transported into her world. Chancellor Ardyn Izunia is known as a tragic man with a devastating past. The Gods from his world decided to punish him by cursing him that he'd never find love and sending him into a new world called Earth.

What would happen when Ardyn meets Y/N? Will he love her?

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

Ardyn was awake and he grinned at her, causing Y/N to blush. Just why? Why did she have to have a crush on Ardyn, who is a fictional character? Yet, he was here. She stuttered, trying to say words while placing the fedora hat away on the chair and where Ardyn's trench coat was.

"I-I'm sorry! I didn't expect you to wake up fast!" Y/N stuttered

Ardyn showed a sly smile and sat up. "I was just teasing you, my dear." He then looked around, and his sly teasing dropped to a frown. He looked even more concerned. "Where am I?"

"You are at my apartment," Y/N answered Ardyn's question. "I was minding my business when I found something glowing and that's when you appeared."

Ardyn was a bit impressed but he felt also... thankful. This young woman saved his life. If no one stepped in to save him, he would have lived on the streets, on this unknown planet. Wait, this is planet Earth like Shiva said? Is this his punishment? Being stuck on this planet with possibly no way home? How can he work then as the chancellor? Not to mention, he was someone shrouded with mystery. Y/N tilted her head a bit to the side and Ardyn looked at her.

"Is this planet Earth?"

Y/N nodded. She was surprised. How did Ardyn know that this is Earth? This is not Eos, that's for sure. "Can I ask what happened?"

Ardyn decided that it was best to explain so he did. Y/N listened to every detail. She never heard anything like that before. Sure, some people wrote about a canon character being teleported to Earth, someone being teleported into the franchise world, or a franchise being collaborated with another franchise. She wondered if the government held a deep secret, a special connection with the outside world somewhere in the universe. Was Eos connected to Earth?

Once Ardyn finished explaining, he didn't stop looking at Y/N. He just noticed something. She was a beauty. And also, she looked a little bit similar to his deceased lover, Aera. Y/N may not have the same blond hair color or blue eyes, but she had some similarities. Y/N was clueless about it but she went on: "Wow... That must suck." She then became suspicious and crossed her arms. "You aren't here to make here forever dark, are you?"

Ardyn couldn't help but chuckle. How foolish she was. He did want to bring darkness in Eos after being betrayed by the Astrals and younger brother, Somnus. No one helped him. Even perhaps Aera knew what was going to happen to him. Why didn't she warn him about it? Or tell him? Ardyn held even anger towards his once beloved. But he missed her dearly. What if... Y/N was a reincarnation version of Aera? Impossible. "No. I failed to bring darkness for my revenge. His Majesty defeated me in a battle."

Y/N couldn't help but feel sorry for him. "It's because of the betrayal, right?"

Ardyn looked at Y/N with his dark eyes, causing her to shudder. She should've been more careful. "How do you know that, my dear?"

Y/N wanted to come up with something, to make Ardyn feel that he wasn't bad. But Ardyn detests lairs and he can detect it easily when someone is lying. She sighed softly and decided to tell the truth. "You are a... a..."

"A what, my dear?"

"Fictional character," Y/N responded nervously.

Ardyn was taken aback. How was this possible? Was he a fictional character on this planet? How? He saw Y/N looking nervously at him. He remembered so many victims... The ones he made nervous and killed them. But he could've killed Y/N right now and there. Or some minutes ago but she... saved his life. She was also a beauty and she reminds him of Aera. She was also like a new creature that he had met on Earth. But she was a human like him. He also wanted to see if magic existed on this planet. He has Starscourge after saving many infected ones when he was not immortal at the time. He was only 33 years old and stuck forever in this body.

"I-I'm sorry to disappoint you, sir. I know that it's a lot to take in."

Ardyn chuckled and even heck, he even laughed a bit! "We are not in public, my dear. This is not Eos now, isn't it? Just call me Ardyn."

Y/N smiled a bit. "Very well then, ... Ardyn." She then stood up and went to her closet. She opened it and searched for a baggy shirt that would fit Ardyn. He couldn't help but watch her. Just as he was about to ask what she was doing, Y/N let out an "Aha!" and showed Ardyn a baggy black shirt. "You can stay here if you want. I don't want you to sleep on the streets."

"That is very kind of you, my dear," Ardyn said with a genuine thankful smile as Y/N gave him the black baggy shirt. "Where may I change?"

"Follow me." Y/N led the way as Ardyn followed her. The bathroom was not far. Y/N turned the light on as she entered her bathroom. There was a bathtub with curtains and a toilet. Oh, the bathtub also looked nice and big enough for your legs to be in the water too. Just imagine a hot relaxing water in the bathtub...

"You can change in here."

Ardyn entered while Y/N closed the door to give Ardyn privacy. She went to the kitchen to make something for Ardyn. What was his favorite food to eat? She decided to make him some (choice). She knew that Ardyn lived for many years to taste all kinds of foods. So, what was his favorite? Ardyn came out through the door and heard noises in the kitchen. He wore now a baggy shirt and he took out his shoes as well. He saw a small corridor/hallway that led towards the front door to the outside and there were Y/N shoes so he placed them down next to hers. He went to the kitchen and there he saw Y/N making food.

"Ah, you're done. I made some food for you," Y/N said as she turned around with a plate of food on it. "Have a seat."

Ardyn did as told and he sat down. This world is indeed a bit strange for him. He was treated all the time as someone important since he was a chancellor, the one of Niflheim. Y/N set the plate down in front of him and sat down across from him. He began eating while the girl watched him. "How does it taste?"

"Splendid!"

After eating, Y/N led him to the living room. "Now about the sleep. When looking at you and since you are a chancellor, you sleep in beds?"

Ardyn smirked with a chuckle. "My dear, I am immortal, I don't need sleep. But yes, I sleep in beds."

Y/N nodded. "How about I take the couch and you sleep in my bed?"

"Now, my dear, it's not wise for a gentleman to let a woman sleep on the couch," Ardyn said with a frown. "How about we share the bed?"

Y/N stiffed. She blushed. Never had she shared a bed with a man before. But Ardyn is her damn crush and yet he was here! Ardyn grinned once he noticed her blush. Y/N grumbled a "Fine" before walking to her bedroom, Ardyn following close behind. What he was saying is the truth. It's not wise for a gentleman to let a woman sleep on the couch. Y/N was already in her short pajamas and laid down in bed. Ardyn laid down next to her and closed his eyes. Like he said, he didn't need sleep since he was immortal. Y/N moved to sleep on her stomach and slowly closed her eyes. Sleep took her in rather quickly.

#x reader #reader #romance #fluff #smut #ardyn izunia x reader #ardyn izunia #ardyn lucis caelum #ardyn x reader #fanfciton #ffxv #final fantasy 15 #square enix

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