#he just wants to be immortalized by story!! is that too much to ask?

[chimerical-daydreams]

is the king's name still just "king" in this au? if so, where/how/why did he get that name?

Yup, King is still called King here.

The short answer as to why is because he's an rpg protagonist.

The long answer is multifaceted. An aspect of King's character I don't touch on much is that he wants to make the world a better place. He loves life, and people, and desperately wants to spread joy and happiness to everyone everywhere. Waking up with no name, no memory and no possessions, and being welcomed with open arms? Being fed and dressed by people who expect nothing in return from this total stranger? He wants to help them back, to repay them in kind, to be a figure of comfort for everyone he meets.

All of the above, mixed with King's love for great epics and fantasy and adventure, plus the fact that he thinks he's the center of a fantasy tale (a stranger from a far away land, followed by a supernatural guide, go on a long quest across a beautiful country to uncover hidden secrets of reality, helping everyone along the way), and his fear of being forgotten leading to wanting to be remembered for his great deeds, all culminate in him choosing to be called King.

(Actually, while he was brainstorming names, he suggested "Hero" first, but Loop's deadpan expression made him reconsider).

[saaltskies]

i was gonna share my xenoblade thoughts the next day because i was full of them but very tired however it is the next day and i forgot how to thought

[softquietsteadylove]

Both Gil and Thena are like super strong aliens, and Gil is like the strongest man on earth, there is no way they didn't break the bed while doing it. May i ask for a very spicy one where that happens.

Gilgamesh pressed his back to the door once it was closed behind him. "Finally."

Thena laughed quietly. She agreed, and not just because they were finally on dry land again. The journey to this continent had been harrowing for her, and she truly never wanted to board a human sea-faring vessel ever again.

Gil chuckled as well, moving from the inn room door and over to her on the bed. "Feeling better?"

The Warrior Eternal sighed, folding herself into his side immediately. The voyage was long, the sea's movement and tempo was sickening. And they were separated for much of the voyage, which was arguably worse for her than the other two drawbacks.

Gilgamesh received her, rubbing her back and pressing his lips to her temple. "I've got you."

"Hm," she purred, pushing her face into his shoulder and inhaling. "You smell of the sea."

"I smell like sweat and barnacles, probably," he snorted, pushing some hair behind her ear. "You smell like fresh sea air."

"I never want to see the ocean again."

"I don't think we have that option, sweetheart," he smiled, pulling her closer until she was ultimately in his lap. They continued to paw at each other, nuzzling and pushing their faces closer as if to fuse into one being. "But I promise it'll at least be a while until we have to face it again."

"So be it," Thena murmured, her fingers trailing down to the tunic he was wearing. It was commonfolk clothing, worn solely so they could stick out on the ship as little as possible.

It hadn't been very successful. The group of completely stunning beings from seemingly multiple strange lands had drawn plenty of attention.

"Is this because of the ocean smell?" Gilgamesh chuckled as she pawed at his shirt. "Or did you just miss me?"

"It can be both," she parried, tilting her head up and touching her lips to the underside of his jaw.

He leaned into a proper kiss, their lips sealing together. She undid his shirt while he unfurled the shawl that had been around her shoulders through the whole journey. He didn't want her to get cold, but it did little to hide how svelte her beauty was. "I would have thought you wanted to rest."

She was tired, but it was more urgent she feel his heartbeat beneath her palm. "The only thing I desire is you."

The Strongest Eternal heeded her wishes, as he always did. He let her pull his shirt off over his head, while he worked on getting her dress off her.

"This continent is the last place with Deviants on it. I'll have to find you some armour," he whispered between kisses, although as soon as her body was free of her dress' bodice his hands were upon her skin.

She hummed her appreciation. His palms were greater support than any cloth or corset or boning structure. His hands cradled her breasts with love and appreciation--in a way only he was capable.

The bed creaked as they moved, Gilgamesh scooping up her smaller body and moving her to the center of the bed. He laid over her. Her hands made quick work of his suspenders and his trousers were done away with shortly afterward.

Thena moaned as he kissed her neck, trailed his tongue down her throat until his mouth could join his hands in their worship of her. Her back arched as he kneaded her ache and soreness away. He was perhaps too enthusiastic about it. "I am not a loaf of bread, Gilgamesh."

"No," he emerged to grin at her. He kissed her again, letting his fingers trail around and over her nipples once more before continuing further. "You're much sweeter."

Thena let out another, louder moan. She dug her heels into the bed under them as his fingers moved between her legs. He wasted no time, touching her in a way that was breathtakingly familiar. They knew every inch of one another.

"Good," he encouraged her, his fingers entering slowly. "Just relax. It's you and me."

Let the world bleed away, he was saying. The sea, their mission, even the rest of their team were far away. It was only them in this little bubble. Thena slid her arms up over her head until she could dig her fingers into the pillow, its linens giving way to her rounded fingernails like wet paper to a spear.

Gilgamesh lifted her hips, propping her up against his thighs as he crouched. Lifting her with one hand was the same as picking up a light tome, as far as he was concerned. She was so lithe, so precious and delicate. He always handled her like a newly budding flower stem. Her skin was soft as petals and she had her own sweet, intoxicating scent to her.

"Yes," Thena gasped, tightening around his stimulation. She was not a creature made for relaxation, but Gilgamesh could always lure her into it. He could work some kind of sorcery that had her twisting and turning and aching for his touch. "That's it, I'm-"

"Stay with me," he whispered, moving his fingers faster within her. He always touched her this way first. He needed her pleasure like he needed his own. One inexorably led to the other, and the more at ease she was, the better their pleasure could be.

Thena threw her head back and moaned up into the constructed canopy of the bed, just some linen stretched over the top frame supported by the posts. It was of semblance to the canopies sheltering beds of luxurious nobles on other continents. She blinked up at it. "Reminds me of the beds we had in Rus."

Gilgamesh grinned to himself. He was always pleased when she could find release. He had a first hand sense of her muscles loosening, her nerve endings absorbing things and helping to dull the sharp, prickling awareness that always had her on edge. "Yeah, those were pretty nice."

He crawled over her again to kiss her. She could taste that he had licked her arousal off his fingers first.

"Think this one is as strong as they were?"

She rolled her eyes at his vigor but allowed it. With great effort, she lifted her arms from the bed and looped them around his neck. "That is far from my concern at the moment."

He kissed her even more fervently. Their lips met again and again like waves crashing into cliffs. Their bodies moved seamlessly to create one amalgamation of them both, skin sealed together with skin. Her legs wound around him as he pushed into her completely.

Gilgamesh moaned even louder than she did as he buried himself to the hilt. Their pelvises met, grinding together as they both adjusted to the fusion of their bodies. He looked good, head tilted up, mouth dropped open. He looked to be in worship (rightfully so, the Goddess of War thought).

She pressed her lips together as another moan rippled through her body, and even passed into him via vibration. Her shoulders shimmied in the bed, making it groan again. "Was our separation even harder on you than I?"

"I dunno about that," he mumbled, slowly coming back to her as his head dropped again. He gripped her thighs, firmly but gently, softly but passionately. "But maybe there were a few nights when I had to more than take a leak off the side of the ship."

She rolled her eyes at her lifelong beloved. "Such a romantic."

"Hey, you asked," he laughed, and got a giggle out of her too. Laughing felt funny when they were joined like this, but it also felt doubly joyous, the movement travelling through both of them in a kind of feedback loop.

He sighed, kissing up her arm and to her shoulder and then her cheek as she wrapped her arms around his neck again. He folded himself into her, his shoulders against hers, chest to chest, leaving only room between their waists to accommodate their joined lower halves. "I missed you."

"Hm," she mused as she ran her fingers through his hair. Every breath they took felt like it healed a scar that had appeared over the course of the journey. Every time her chest rose and collided with his doing the same, she smiled. "As did I."

He raised his head again to kiss her as he started moving. "I love you, Thena."

She didn't need words for her reply. Every minute of every day was her reply to that statement. And moreover, in the moment, her muscles did the replying, squeezing around him by sheer reflex.

He kissed her, letting her reciprocation seep into him bone deep. His hips moved, making the bed squeak with each and every thrust. The more he picked up speed, the more sound it caused, the feet even scraping against the uneven flooring. "This fuckin' bed."

Thena gasped as he changed angle, scraping against her in a most lascivious way. "You were the one who couldn't - ah! - wait."

He huffed, some of his libido overtaking his previous lightheartedness. "Haven't been able to hold my wife properly for weeks, damn right I wasn't waiting anymore. I don't care if this thing falls through the floor."

Thena bit her lip amidst smiling. It was a funny thing to imagine, but the excitement at the idea was a welcome and unexpected side effect.

He snorted, leaning up again so he could hold her hips and thrust harder. Their skin slapped together and the bed started truly swaying with their motions. "You think so too, huh?"

She said nothing, but her moans began floating up and out of her again as he pressed his thumbs into the pits of her thighs, spreading her lips and allowing him to dig in deep. "I am not thinking anyth-!"

Gil moved one hand, gripping from the bottom of one hip and from the top of her other. His thumb stretched down to slither through her blonde curls and drag across her firmest nerve center.

"Ah!" Thena gasped from deep in her chest. Her breasts fell and rose, she gripped the headboard, but it was completely shattered as soon as she did so. The wood splintered and clattered to the floor beneath the window. "Shit."

"Fuck!" Gilgamesh joined her in her unmitigated ecstasy. They were both being driven purely by physical sensation and instinct. One of his legs stretched out behind him, but his foot destroyed the back of the bed as well.

They both were forced to pause as the 'canopy' frame tumbled out of the post next. Gil launched forward, covering her body with his. The wood fell to the side with not nearly as much climax as they possessed. He peeked at it, and then at her, the linen from it draped over their nakedness now. "You okay?"

She was panting for breath, chest flushed and skin aflame. Perhaps somewhat dazed, but unharmed, she nodded.

"You sure? I-"

"Keep going."

He blinked just once before he resumed his position. If anything, she was tighter than before, the moment of startlement having coiled her muscles again. "Fuck, sweetie, you gotta relax."

"I was," she panted as she let herself drown in the feeling of him moving inside of her again.

"I'm close, I'm really - really - close," Gilgamesh less informed her and more spouted off from pure need. His hips picked up a pace over which he had no control. "Come on, sweet'art, just let go."

Thena moaned from her gut as Gilgamesh poured into her. Hot, molten love coursed through her veins as she followed, like a tree tumbling in a forest and knocking down the second nearest. Her core squeezed around him. His heat, his firmness, feeling every breath he took from the inside out; her vision went white and her whole body arched off the bed.

The room was full of panting breaths, fallen wood, even hay and feathers from the bedding. Gilgamesh caught his breath, running a hand through his hair. He let go of her slowly, watching the imprints of his hands on her disappear slowly against the colour in her skin.

Thena moaned as he slipped out of her, in more ways than one. The last time they laid together felt like a lifetime ago, now, but he always made up for any time lost, that was certain. Her head wasn't even on the pillow she had ripped in half, her hair was everywhere, intermixing with the white downy feathers flying in the air. Her skin felt warm to the touch, as if she had been lazing in the sun like an iguana on a rock. She lifted her arms (at least she thought she was lifting her arms).

Gilgamesh obliged, leaning over her once again and kissing her soundly. Their breathing synced up and he departed from the kiss only to leave countless more against her flushed cheeks and neck and chest. "You okay now?"

"Hm," she purred from her chest, her hands running over his skin idly, just for the enjoyment of it. "Deeply."

"Good," he chuckled, leaning up from her embrace only to examine the damage. The linen of the bed was draped around them awkwardly, the bed itself was in shambles. It was a miracle it was still on its legs and off the floor, truly.

The door slammed open, Kingo and Sersi rushing in. "Is everything okay?! We heard a--whoa!"

Kingo held his hand up, although he had truly only seen Gil's naked back and the state of the room around the fallen sheet. Sersi squeaked, turning away at even the implication of a pale leg hanging off the edge of the bed. "Sorry!"

Kingo pulled the door behind him, but they could clearly hear him long after it was closed. "Seriously?! We're here for five minutes and they've totally wrecked the place!"

Thena pulled her lover back to her, laughing into his shoulder.

He chuckled as well, pressing a kiss to her hair as he began smoothing it down. "Laugh it up, you're not gonna wanna look at him for the rest of the day."

She chose to ignore his - completely untrue - implication that she would feel shy at being discovered. "Poor Sersi won't be able to speak to us for a week."

Gil nuzzled into her again, settled on his side with her, wood and linen and feathers be damned. "We'll have to get another room."

"We will," she agreed, rolling and sliding her limbs along his skin until she felt properly affixed to him.

"What will we tell them?" he laughed. He twisted, reaching behind him to tug the linen just enough that he could somewhat drape it over them (but mostly her).

"That this continent is full of very dangerous creatures," she murmured, using the exact vageries that Ajak tended to use on people these days. "One flew right through that window."

Gilgamesh laughed from his belly, which shook against her pleasantly. "Oh, now we're flat out lying to people?"

She smiled against his pectoral, losing all sense in her extremities to the warmth overtaking her brain. "Do you wish for me to say that my husband made love to me so voraciously that their bed is in shambles?"

He blushed.

She let out a chuckle of her own, situating her head under his chin just so. "That is what I thought. And regardless, that is a matter for later--if not tomorrow."

She was done with absolutely anything and everything as of now, as far as she was concerned. Everyone else, their mission, even the rest of their team were far away. It was only them in this little bubble.

[sufficientlylargen]

It always gets me that the name "Gandalf" literally just means "Wand-Elf" or "Stick-Elf". I'm imagining old Gondorians just being like:

Librarian: I saw that weird guy at the library again today.

Guard 1: What weird guy?

Librarian: The old guy with the beard? Kinda elfy-looking, apart from the beard?

Guard 1: Oh, with the big-ass stick?

Librarian: Yeah, looked like he was carrying an entire tree branch.

Guard 2: Yeah, that's the Stick Elf.

Guard 1: Hell yeah, I fuckin' love the Stick Elf.

Librarian: The "Stick Elf"?

Guard 2: He comes by every few years, usually after some weird book or other.

Librarian: Oh. Yeah, he wanted a treatise on goblin breeding habits.

Guard 2: Like, how they have sex? We have books on that?

Librarian: Yeah, turns out we do. I was as surprised as you are.

Guard 1: What'd the Stick Elf need a fuckin' goblin-fuckin' book for?

Librarian: I didn't ask. So you just call him "Stick Elf"?

Guard 2: I mean, he looks kinda elfy and he always has that stick, so, like, yeah.

Guard 1: Dude also has some fuckin' dope pipeweed.

Guard 2: Oh yeah, his pipeweed is awesome.

Librarian: How long has he been coming here?

Guard 2: Oh, for decades. He's, like, super old.

Guard 1: More like fuckin' centuries. Dude's old as balls.

Guard 2: Wait, really?

Guard 1: Yeah, my gran-gran used to talk about him. She loved his pipeweed too.

Librarian: So he's… an immortal pipeweed dealer?

Guard 2: I think he's just, like, a connoisseur. He doesn't sell it or anything. He just always has some really top-notch pipeweed on him.

Archivist: Oh, are we talking about Stick Elf?

Guard 1: Hell yeah we are!

Librarian: You know about the Stick Elf, too?

Archivist: Oh, totally. Stick-Elf's a super chill dude. Gave me some awesome pipeweed when I was maybe 12, and tee-bee-aitch I think I'm still a little buzzed from it.

Guard 1: What'd I tell ya, fuckin' dope pipeweed!

Archivist: Also he's really old.

Guard 1: Old as balls.

Librarian: Yeah, so Éodan and Jenniforomir were telling me.

Archivist: My grandpa used to tell me stories - he said one time he saw Stick Elf enter a smoke-ring contest.

Guard 1: Ooh, I'll bet he kicked fuckin' ass.

Archivist: Apparently the guy made an entire warship out of smoke and it flew around shooting down the other rings.

Librarian: And how much of this "fuckin' dope" pipeweed had your grandfather had by this point?

Guard 1: No no, that's totally plausible. Dude's got weird elf powers and shit for sure.

Archivist: He brought fireworks for the king's birthday one year, too.

Guard 1: Oh fuck, I forgot about those! Fuckin' incredible fireworks! Dragons and knights and glowy trees and shit! I was fuckin' 6 years old or something, they totally blew my mind. Hey Éodan, did you see that shit?

Guard 2: No, I think that's before I lived in Gondor.

Guard 1: Wait, you're not from here?

Guard 2: Oh, no, I grew up in Rohan. We moved here when I was, like, thirteen because my uncle Éojeff said he could get my dad a sweet job. And also that there were houses that didn't smell like horseshit.

Guard 1: Oh shit, are you related to Éojeff and Éosteve who run that æbleskiver stand on Norndîl St?

Guard 2: Yeah, they're my uncles!

Guard 1: Shit, they cook a fuckin' great æbleskiver!

Librarian: Ok, hold up a sec, "Stick Elf" can't possibly be his real name.

Guard 1: Why not?

Librarian: What? You think his parents named him in the hopes that he would carry around a fucking tree when he got older?

Guard 2: Maybe they gave him the tree when he was born!

Archivist: I don't think a baby could carry that stick.

Guard 1: You ever seen a baby hanging onto something? They're hella strong.

Archivist: It's not a strength thing, their hands are tiny. That staff is enormous!

Guard 1: My halberd's bigger 'n I am, I can hold it just fine.

Archivist: You're not a baby.

Librarian: Also why would elf parents name their kid "stick ELF"?! Presumably they know that their kid's going to be an elf!

Archivist: Is he actually an elf? I didn't think they grew beards.

Guard 1: How'd he get old as balls if he's not an elf?

Guard 2: His ears aren't that pointy. Maybe he's just a really old guy? Like, a Numémoriam or something?

Guard 1: Did you just say "Numémoriam"?

Guard 2: Nûnenorman? Munimõrbitan? Y'know, those guys like the king that can get super old.

Guard 1: You mean the fuckin' Númenóreans?

Guard 2: Yeah, the Númenóreums.

Archivist: Even the Númenóreans don't live THAT long.

Guard 1: Plus he carries that fuckin' stick around.

Guard 2: Wait, what does the stick have to do with it?

Guard 1: That's an elf thing. Y'know, trees and shit? Very elfy.

Librarian: Ok, look, but his parents naming him "Stick Elf" would be weird whether or not he's an elf. In fact, it's even weirder if he's not - what human names their kid "elf"?

Archivist: Huh. Yeah, you're right, he probably does have another name.

Guard 2: Yeah, I guess so.

Librarian: He's been coming here for decades and nobody's ever asked his real name?

Archivist: I dunno what to tell you, he's Stick Elf. Even his library card just says 'Stick Elf'.

Guard 1: Fuck yeah, the Stick Elf!

Guard 2: Maybe we could, like, ask him his name sometime?

Guard 1: Hey, look, Elrond's over there. He's old as balls too, maybe he knows?

Guard 2: Oh, we shouldn't interru-

Guard 1: HEY ELROND, YOU'RE OLD AS BALLS, RIGHT? WHAT'S THAT OLD ELF WITH THE STICK'S NAME?

Elrond (coming over): Do you mean an old man cloaked all in grey and blue, leaning on a rough-cut staff, who came to the great library this day?

Guard 1: Yeah, the Stick-Elf!

Guard 2: (Sorry to bother you, sir...)

Librarian: He's got to have a real name besides 'the Stick Elf', right?

Elrond: Indeed, for no elf is he. You speak of the wizard Olórin, wisest of the Maiar, older even than Eä itself. Many are his names in many countries: Tharkûn among the Dwarves; Incánus to the south; Mithrandir he is called among my people, the Grey Pilgrim.

Librarian: Oh.

Elrond: And here in the North he is called Stick-Elf.

Librarian: Oh.

Guard 1: Fuck yeah!

[sonrium]

DP X DC: A Minor Drinking Problem

Phantom is a relatively new member of the JLA, but it's been a few months, and things are settling in well. He's shy and polite but is a master of the snark with villains.

Before a big mission, the all hands on deck kind, everyone is talking about scars and the crazy stories behind them to distract from the coming fight. Danny, finally feeling like he can join in the conversation with all these adult heroes, pulls off his right glove to show a pretty gnarly scar on the back of his wrist. “I got this one when I fought a guy from the Revolutionary War a few weeks ago! Didn't think he'd charge me with a bayonet.” He shares a couple more stories and scars, but only the ones that he can easily show off.

Because of stories like that and some historical depictions of Phantom from different time periods, they think he's this ancient and powerful immortal that just looks like a teenager, it wouldnt be the first time. He's powerful enough to go toe to toe with Superman, so there's no way he's actually a kid. He even sometimes has the haunted, world weary eyes that their most hardened members only get after experiencing too much. Danny, being our lovable, obliviously dense idiot, has not realized that they think he's an ancient being.

After the mission concludes -it was a rough one-, the JLA celebrate their victory with a couple drinks back at the watch tower. Danny is understandably uncomfortable with this whole situation and keeps asking, “Are you sure I should be here?” They reassure him it's fine as they pass around beers, which Danny politely declines several times. Danny eventually sees this as the perfect chance to pad his blackmail folders on his inebriated coworkers.

Anyway, as the night goes on, they have a good time, but Phantom still hasn't gotten a drink like the rest of them, and Green Lantern (or hero of your choice) really wants their shy friend to come out of his shell. So, he slams an open beer bottle on the coffee table in front of Phantom. “Come on Phantom! Let loose a little. Celebrate!”

“Dude! What the hell?! I'm 16! That's illegal!” Phantom squeaks in shock.

“We don't care how old you were when you died. It's how long you've been a ghost that counts.” Flash slings an arm around Danny's shoulders from where he’s sat next to him on the couch. Flash can't get drunk, but he also thinks it would be fun to see their uptight new member drunk.

“That's even worse! You'd be giving alcohol to a two year old!” Phantom is horrified that his coworkers are so casually breaking the law.

“But you said you fought in the Revolutionary War this morning!” Green Lantern said with his eyebrows knit in confusion.

“No, I said I fought someone from the Revolutionary War. As in, the ghost of someone from the revolutionary war!”

“You can't pull that on us. There's murals and stuff of you from thousands of years ago.” The Flash waves off with a laugh.

Phantom’s finger presses painfully hard into Flash’s chest. “I do not need to explain time travel to you of all people. My mentor hates you, and I'm STILL sent on missions constantly to clean up your messes.” Phantom's clear and low. Flash liked it better when he was shouting and not staring him down like a predator with narrowed eyes.

(This random idea popped into my head. It made me laugh, so I thought you might, too. Here you go!)

[is-this-even-relatable]

DP X DC PROMPT #3

tl/dr: Phantom and Captain Marvel are assigned to Young Justice; one of them because he is too young to join the league itself, and the other, to act as a mentor and leader. The JL thinks it’s one way around... but in reality it’s the other.

———————

So I read here about this idea that despite being one of the first heroes, Phantom looks incredibly young (curse immortality). So the Justice League doesn’t know that Phantom is an adult, and after finding out about him, they decide to assign him as a member of the Titans or Young Justice, since they believe he is too young to join the Justice League just yet.

Now, Danny thinks they’ve placed him there as a leader/mentor figure, and is touched that they’ve got so much trust in him to lead their kids and protogees. So he is going to do his damn best.

And here’s where I want to add on to the idea. The opposite happens to Captain Marvel.

The Justice League doesn’t know Cap is secretly Billy Batson, young child. They think he’s a great, adult, member they can trust, that happens to be very in-touch with modern lingo. So, having just assigned a new member of Young Justice/Titans (read, Danny Phantom), the JL thinks it’d be a great idea for them to have a mentor to lead them: and who better than Captain Marvel?

Billy thinks they know he’s secretly young and are reassigning him based on his age. (He thinks the thing about him being a mentor is the cover story) And he is actually thrilled he’ll be able to transform back and have some friends his age to talk to and confide in.

Cue only the members of Young Justice/Titans knowing the true ages of their members. Danny is an amazing leader, and Cap is a hilarious teammate.

———

One day, the JL is working with their group and are confused when it seems that Phantom is the one leading, Cap just following orders with everyone else.

When the JL asks and finds out the truth they are certifiably shocked. Batman just grunts and says “Why did you think I assigned them that way?”

[thanergetic-hyperlinks]

What does Alecto want?

This is something I thought about while I wrote that post about Gideon's immortality.

When people speak about Alecto the book and Alecto the character, there is often an assumption that Alecto wants revenge for John turning her into a Barbie, and that our main characters want to kill God.

I'm not going to get too much into what I think the endgame might be for Jod (I'll leave it for another day) but I have some observations about Alecto!

First, people think Alecto wants revenge for the initial act of ripping her soul out and stuffing it in a Barbie body. I'm honestly not so sure that's her main concern!

Initially, Alecto's main fear is dying:

This is presumably what frightened her when in pain as Gaia, and what frightened her here, starting her life with John at the end of the world.

Of course, in the middle, there's her actual murder, and how she felt about it:

This fragment is so interesting. Most of this chapter the dialogue is in quotation marks, indicating it's not the memory of John and Alecto but current dialogue between John and Harrowhark.

John tells Harrow what happened. He is the one who asks her if she remembers what Alecto said. She (Harrowhark) said “What else did I say?”. And when Harrow says “I still love you”, Jod remembers that Alecto was also willing to love him despite what he'd done.

But Harrow is left without the answer to one question. “Where did you put the people? Where did they go?”

After this paragraph, she will say there are things she doesn't understand:

Apparently Alecto's memory isn't fully accessible, or she can't know Alecto's thought process, or there's bits of her memory gone for other reasons, whether it's John's intervention (unlikely, given how much incriminating stuff Alecto does remember) or because that's what was most traumatic to her and—unlike John's tale of apocalypse—nobody later reminded her. (Diegetically, of course, Tamsyn is simply saving that reveal for Harrow's arc in Hell.)

In any case: after being told the entire story about being killed and turned into a Barbie, Harrowhark still says “I want to understand why she was angry”. And that's seemingly tied to why John was terrified.

And the text directly relates that to the missing population of the Earth.

There are three things that very nearly make Nona fully recover the memory of who she was. One is when Pyrrha very nearly says her name, and Nona doesn't want to hear it. Later she doesn't seem to be lucid enough to react to Ianthe saying it, but she does react to this final line: Ianthe yelling “John loves Alecto!”. In the meantime, however, there's one more thing that shakes Nona deeply enough she has an actual heart attack:

And it's the sight of the Tower that makes Nona lose the will to live:

She also gets a couple passages where the sight of devils touches some deep, frightening memory. And we are given one last clue:

The River is dead.

We knew as early as HtN that the River is broken in some way. Its waters are described as brackish, salty, dirty, full of ghosts represented as rotting corpses. It doesn't seem to flow anywhere as rivers should. House religion says the dead wait as mad ghosts until John conducts his Second Resurrection. John of course has planted House theology with his idea to conduct “a flood” at some point and start over (“empty is just another word for clean”, etc.), once his revenge is done. He needs souls to not move on, in order to do that. We know through Abigail and Dulcinea that there is another shore, a Beyond that they've managed to exceptionally reach.

Alecto seems upset, above all, by what happened to the River, and that it remains unfixed.

Alecto states that she no longer fears death. She has experienced it (“I died once… no, twice”, and that's before her brief tenure as Nona).

She might be ready to leave John behind and move on, but.

What if she can't move on?

By which I mean: what if she—a Resurrection Beast, intimately acquainted with the spiritual dimension that is the River—what if she knows that she could never cross it as it is now, if she were to die? What if she knows that she would be absorbed by the stoma in the River's current condition, or float around insane forever? What if the sum of all necromantic transgression is that Jod committed ecocide on the afterlife and true death is no longer possible?

What if she needs the River to be healed in order to die?

To conclude, two other tidbits:

1. When Nona, trying not to engage with her Alecto consciousness, briefly considers just giving up and dying, she says:

2. Palamedes speaks of the Beyond (after briefly witnessing Dulcinea as she is there in TUG) right before he describes Paul as an end and a beginning. I don't think this is accidental?

[spcherryygirl]

YOU'RE MY CULT LEADER, I'M YOUR DISCIPLE ! m. grayson x writer!reader

✷ CATEGORY : HEADCANONS !

✷ headcanons of mark grayson dating a hopelessly romantic writer !

✷ TAGS: idiots in love. emotional intimacy. writer!reader. supportive bf!mark. mark is down so bad. mark doesn’t know jane austen but he tries. reader is dramatic & poetic & he loves it. inspired by every slowburn fic ever(they're already dating it doesn't make sense). some angst in between the fluff. mutual pining (but they’re already dating??). lowkey insecure mark. found family vibes. ooc if you squint (but in a good, soft way). “he’s a golden retriever, she’s a stormcloud” dynamic. mark thinks emotional foreplay is hot now. notebook snooping (loving, respectful kind). longing. so much longing. one (1) badly written love letter that makes you sob(in this work). reader writes like they’re in a period drama. mark suffers. reader is a jane austen fanatic. mark tries to match reader's freak.

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃 NOTES !

001. me & my cousin did NOT get any sleep because we yapped ab this alllllllll night💔 i mean, we don't rlly sleep. but still.

002. LITERARY WRITER READER BECAUSE MY COUSIN ORDERED ME A PRIDE & PREJUDICE BOOK😋😋 i love her. she's literally an angel(demon, but she's an angel for now)

003. im still practicing my format💔💔

004. idk how warnings work.

005. may the gods give me a man like him

006. sighhhhh SIGHHHHHH

the first time he hears you talk about jane austen, he nods as if he knows her. he does not.

"right, yeah. pride &…patience?"

"you mean pride & prejudice?"

"that's what i said."

he doesn't understand it at first, but he enjoys how you just,,,,, come alive when discussing it. he'd hear you ramble on about 19th-century slow burns for hours, even if he's still puzzled as to why darcy was being such a weirdo for the first half of the book.(forgive him)

you write. a lot. & mark is super supportive, even when your characters are brooding, emotionally constipated men.

"know this guy in your story sounds a lot like me, huh?"

you blink at him.

"he's a tortured soul who suppresses his feelings & vanishes for days."

"precisely."

"…i'll let it pass."

he lowkey enjoys that you're expressing your emotions about him through words. it makes him feel significant. immortalized, even.

when you read to him, he just gazes at you like you hung the moon & stars.

you're lying on his chest, reading your favorite lines to him, voice low & expressive, completely absorbed▰& mark just melts.

he spaces out sometimes, not because he's bored, but because your voice is so calming. it's radiating "you're the only peace i know" vibes.

he'll suddenly be like,

"sorry▰can you repeat that last bit? i was just…thinking about how much i love you."

fucking gods, you wanna jump on him.

he catches you muttering lines you're working on under your breath & genuinely thinks it’s hot.

like you’re just pacing around, whispering works like:

“he could not bear to look at her. her silence was a blade.”

& mark’s just standing there, fully forgetting whatever he was gonna say.

“babe, that was… insanely attractive.”

you roll your eyes.

“it’s a line about heartbreak.”

“........yeah. say it again.”

you leave notebooks wherever you go. he occasionally reads them. not to snoop in your life▰but because he misses you when you are not there.

he would never read your innermost,,,, writing without asking, but if there is a poem half-written on the couch? he's opening it up, reading your doodled metaphors with a smile.

once he read a line that had,

"his touch is lightning, brief but unforgettable."

he immediately texted you:

"was that about me be honest"

he gets lowkey jealous when you write super duper romantic, poetic love interests▰but he tries to be them too.

mark after reading your chapter:

"would it help your creative process if i, i don't know, leaned against a doorframe all brooding-like?"

"mark."

"no seriously, i can work on my tortured backstory if you want."

kiss.

he doesn't actually understand period dramas but he watches them in spite of that because they put you in a good mood.

he'll be there looking all grumpy like:

"why is everyone just… staring at each other for five minutes?"

& you're all swoony-eyed like:

"because feelings, mark."

he gets far too invested. screams when the characters eventually touch fingers.

"she TOUCHED HIS HAND. THAT'S LIKE▰EQUIVALENT TO THIRD BASE IN THE 1800s, RIGHT? RIGHT???"

he is utterly & completely fascinated with the way your mind works.

you launch into rants about yearning & longing, about tragedy & poetry & why the right comma can shatter someone's heart▰& he is in heaven. literally.

he doesn't always have a comeback, but he'll hold your face & tell you:

"you're like…genius. like, genius-genius.

make out with him this instant.

he adores kissing you in the middle of a rant.

you're pacing, all worked up over how your character is being emotionally stupid, & he just grabs you in the middle of a sentence like:

"okay, yeah, i get it▰but also i need to kiss you now."

it gets you flustered. he likes that even better.

when you're stuck & upset, he takes you tea, snacks, & kisses your forehead like:

"you've got this, genius."

occasionally you do have to be left alone with your own thoughts, & he knows that. but there are times that he will just snuggle up alongside you quietly while you get things done. head on your leg, fingers drawing lazy circles on your skin, no need for words.

you once wrote in your stories of a kiss as

"the kind that ruins a person for anyone else."

mark had read that passage.

now whenever he kisses you, it's with the very purpose of confirming that line true.

mark has read pride & prejudice now. yes. for you.

& he disliked darcy initially.

"dude is literally the human version of a traffic jam."

but towards the end?? he was like:

"okay wait. that confession letter?? FIRE."

you catch him reciting it just to impress you.

"'you must allow me to tell you how ardently i admire & love you.'"

"markus▰"

"was it good? i rehearsed it in front of the mirror."

you write so sensually. ,,,, no smut, but the sort of tension that has people SCREAMING.

mark reads one of your stories & is just like,

"they didn't even kiss but i feel like i need a cold shower. how??"

you smile.

"that's the power of emotional foreplay."

he dies. just flatlines. legit. dies.

immediately tries to match that energy when he kisses you next▰slow, drawn-out, like a poem in motion.

mark is painfully WEEAAAKKK for when you're writing & you pull your hair up, squinting at your laptop, murmuring lines to yourself.

he’s supposed to be getting ready for,,, his,, well. invincible job.

but instead, he’s watching you like you’re the final girl in a love story.

if you so much as hum, he’s like:

“babe. you can’t do that. i’m gonna kiss you & then i’ll be late again.”

occasionally he gets the feeling that he doesn't belong in your world▰like your head is full of sonnets & he's just…a kid with super strength & bad luck.

he doesn't say it a lot.

but one evening, after patrol, when he's bloody & exhausted & you're cleaning his face, he says,

"do you ever think… you were meant to fall in love with someone better? like, you know... better written?"

you stare him straight in the eyes & tell him,

"no. you're my favorite plot twist."

he did NOT tear up. totally. he fucking wailed.

your writing is how you make sense of things. you don't always explain to mark what's wrong. you write it. & he learns to read between your lines.

he catches a sentence in your notebook:

"she kept pretending she wasn't waiting for him, but her hands wouldn't stop shaking."

he gently closes it, walks over, & holds you in his arms.

"i'm here now," he whispers.

you sob. he allows you.

mark attempts to write you a love letter once & it's…terrible. but so mark that it makes you sob.

it begins with:

"dear the smartest, prettiest person who somehow likes me"

& finishes with

"i don't know how to write pretty like you do but just imagine i said something like… your eyes are poetry or whatever. because they are."

you fold it up & keep it in your journal like a pinned flower.

he has this habit where he'll repeat lines you wrote back to you in the most unexpected times.

like,,, you're flossing.

he sneaks up behind you, arms wrapped around your waist, whispers in your neck:

"'her smile was the kind of thing you don't survive unchanged.'"

you stiffen. spew out toothpaste.

"mark that is PRIVATE—"

he simply smirks.

"it's literally about me, babe."

when you fight, he doesn't yell or shout. he goes quiet. & you begin to write letters to him because it's the only way you know how to say it.

you leave them under his door.

he reads them with shaking fingers.

responds on the same sheet, sloppy writing over your tidy handwriting:

"i'm sorry. i'm trying. don't give up on me."

you never do.

he once caught you crying while writing & freaked HARD.( heh... hard./j)

"babe?? are you okay?? who do i punch??"

"it's just…my main character lost her person."

he's so glad it's make-believe he laughs. then gets huffy.

"wait, that's ME, right? i'm her person. i'm always gonna be her person. well, I'M THE INSPIRATION."

the first time he told you "i love you," it wasn't dramatic. you were reading him a new chapter. your voice cracked a little.

he simply looked at you & said,

"i love you, you know. like, every version of you. even the sad ones."

you didn't say anything in return.

but you had written it out that evening:

he said it as though he'd been in love with all the words i'd ever put down.

he died. again. he has died multiple times. you're the cause.

© minorlyatfault, 2025

[hiddenreamers]

I was in your music video - f1 drivers x singer!reader

SUMMARY: They say that if a poet loves you, they will write you into immortality. But if you date a musician, they might write you into the Billboard 100. Which is exactly what happens to your driver boyfriend.

Featuring: Lewis Hamilton, Lando Norris, Oscar Piastri, Carlos Sainz Jr, Max Verstappen, Charles Leclerc, George Russell

Note: Yes, two songs are sung by male artists. Yes, I'm going to ignore that fact and you should, too.

Lewis Hamilton

He's been in the room maybe five times. The space always felt strangely sacred to him - this is where you write, compose and practice songs with your band; this is where the magic, so to speak, happens. Walls are absolutely covered with tour posters, polaroids and printed-out articles. There's a large mirror that seems to be a message board considering all the sticky notes and words written with a marker. The only somewhat de-cluttered space is surrounding the setup. It's an unspoken testament to being a musician in a band.

There's a certain tension inside the driver. You've never asked him to listen to a song before it's finished. Sure, he has listened through your albums before they were officially released but it was always just that - a recording, not a live version. So what's different this time? Why is it vital he hears this song early?

Walking through the room, Lewis has to carefully watch where he's going. He doesn't want to accidentally break something by stepping on a cable or kicking a box with unknown contents. Inside a garage, he knows what not to touch but a recording studio and instruments are pretty much an unknown world to him.

Lewis is standing around a tad awkwardly, hands in pockets, when the bassist pushes a big black box closer to the driver.

"Have a seat." The musician points to the chest.

Lewis frowns. "On the box?" he asks, unsure. "Is that okay?"

"It's the Lucky Chest, Hamilton," the bassist announces. The other band members snicker at the title. "You have to sit on it."

"What's lucky about it?" Lewis inquires. More than the seating choice, he's interested in the reason for laughter.

"The first time we played at a big festival," the guitarist begins, her story slightly interrupted by her tuning the guitar, "we were sitting on it and listening to Green Day's stage, wondering 'how the fuck are we supposed to play after them?'."

"We were doing like a punk-rock tribute thing," adds the drummer. He's adjusting his seat and judging by the constant up-and-down movement, he can't make up his mind. The process is finally over when he reaches to tap the high-hat and nods to himself, content.

"After we finished our set," you take over retelling the story, "Billy Joe Armstrong came up to us and said we did great."

"So now it's the Lucky Chest," concludes the bassist.

Perhaps it's another testament to being a musician in a band when multiple people together tell one story without cutting details or creating chaos. A true harmony, though a joke a little on the nose.

"Well, I'm honoured," Lewis says. An airy giggle escapes him as he's still thinking about how easily teamwork comes to you and your band.

"You should be." The guitarist points her finger at him in a joking but accusatory way. Then she looks over her shoulder. "Whenever you're ready, drummer boy."

Music fills the room and Lewis is instantly captivated by you. He noticed it the first time he saw you on stage, how something inside you changes the moment you hear the instruments playing. Intensity, fire - passion in its most primal form. But this time around, the look in your eyes is different. You're no longer looking at the audience but him specifically; instead of singing a song, you seem to be telling him something.

So he listens.

I'm a desert, you're an ocean It's your motion that I need Without you I am broken, left to thirst out in the heat

And how strange he suddenly feels: all of the sentiments he already knows but now that you've put them into words for the whole world to hear, he can't help but find some revelation in them. For a moment, there's only the two of you and your confession of desire. Every word resonates with him and Lewis feels like he could say all of those things about you, too.

The song is far from over but he has already decided - he will listen to it before every race.

Lando Norris

Nothing seemed different about that day.

Lando is streaming while you're still at the studio. In an hour or so, you will come back, he will end the stream and the two of you will sit down to eat something. You will talk about your day, he will say something silly and both of you will laugh. Just like you always did.

To his credit, Lando couldn't have known about the song because you never told him. Some part of you thought it would be a bit dramatic to announce that you've written a song about him but can't play it yet because it's not finished. It would spoil the fun, wouldn't it? Therefore, you decided to tell Lando only after he listened to the final product. Perhaps you also wanted to seem a lot more nonchalant about the whole thing, planning on giving him just an off-hand comment of "oh, by the way, this one's about you". Life, however, rarely turns out the way we plan and that's exactly what happened that night.

If it was just one or two people calling Lando "honeybee" on the stream, he probably wouldn't even notice. But even he will pay attention when the comments are going on hundreds if not thousands.

He can't help but grow flustered at the pet name born out of his visceral fear of insects.

"Who told you that?!" he yells in a comically angry tone, a poor attempt at hiding embarrassment.

The comments come flooding again, explaining the situation only in variations of your name and the title Espresso. And like a detective following a crime, Lando immediately searches the internet.

"I feel lied to," he speaks up. "She didn't tell me she has a new song coming out. Why am I the last one to know? When I literally live with her? This is so unfair, I'm obviously the biggest fan, I should know first!"

Lando plays the music video. From the first line of "he's thinking about me every night", his bashfulness only gets worse. What starts as an excited smile, grows into a flustered, giggly mess. Although his pride is on the line, he can't deny any of the claims you make in the song. Yes, he couldn't sleep one night thinking about you and texted you about that. Yes, he does call you often even though he hates making phone calls. And yes, Lando Norris is, in fact, wrapped around your finger. What a horse is everyone can see and similarly, everyone can see and define who Lando is when it comes to his girlfriend:

"Simp?" he reads one of the comments. "Look, maybe I am but at the end of the day I'm dating her and you're not so who's the real loser here?"

Lando can only laugh his heart out when the chat gets flooded with identical comments: You.

"Okay, I admit. I'm down bad for my girlfriend and I'm proud of that."

Tomorrow's headlines are bound to be interesting...

Oscar Piastri

Although Oscar has seen you in musicals countless times, this situation feels a lot weirder and more uncomfortable. When he comes to watch your show, he's in the audience and you're on the stage. Now you're sitting side by side on the couch in your shared apartment, about to see your first movie. You're both the audience and the creator, which leaves you unsure how to act.

Unfortunately, your discomfort only grows. Oscar seems to be enjoying the movie but joy is not granted to you on this day. With each minute, you know your big part is coming. Oh God, what is he going to think?

Then, you suddenly pause the film. Oscar looks at you confused.

"There's something you need to know before you watch this scene and listen to the song," you say before he can ask you about your strange actions.

Oscar's frown only deepens. "You're making it sound really serious."

"Because it is. The thing is... " you hang your voice, unsure how to put words together. How do you tell someone this without making things awkward? "This is more embarrassing than I thought it would be but the song you're about to hear, I wrote it thinking about you."

He's trying to smile but the shadow of embarrassment on his face doesn't go unnoticed. You can only hope it's good kind of nervous.

The movie is resumed. As your discomfort is barely tolerable, you're looking away from the TV, fidgeting ever-so-slightly. Once or twice, you glance at Oscar, trying to see his reaction. The problem is, he's sitting unbelievably still. True, Oscar Piastri tends to be on the calmer side but right now it feels off. As if lost deep in thought, he appears to be diligently contemplating the scene in the movie; picking apart the words that came to your mind while thinking about him.

When the song comes to an end, you pause the film once more. A tense silence falls between you and Oscar, both longing to say something and yet neither willing to.

"So?" you begin hesitantly. "What do you think?"

Oscar shifts awkwardly. "Erm... I don't really know what to say."

A nervous giggle escapes your lips. "It's really sappy, I know." You try to downplay the situation, fearing that his reaction is born out of something negative. Does he think you're clingy? Obsessive? Too dramatic to handle?

"It's not that," he quickly denies. "Well, okay, it is kind of sappy but it's good sappy?" Oscar's tone raises slightly, revealing that he's unsure whether it's the right choice of words.

"Good sappy?" you repeat.

It feels as though woe has weaved a nest inside your viscera. "Good sappy" sounds like a lovely, diplomatic euphemism used not to hurt someone's feelings.

"Yeah, it's just..." Oscar doesn't finish his sentence. He runs his hand through his hair, then rubs the back of his neck nervously. Finally, he looks at you but not in a way you're familiar with. There's something ethereal in his gaze, a glint of inexplicable emotion that would escape a less observant eye. "It's really beautiful," he says. "The fact that you feel this way about me?" You could swear there are tears in his eyes as he lets out a flustered giggle. "I can die happy now."

Carlos Sainz

As old tradition entails, the Thursdays before a race weekend are meant for golfing. And who is Carlos Sainz to not give in to the custom?

He's sitting in his car, impatiently ploughing through the traffic of the city centre. Why are people out and about at this time, anyway? Shouldn't they be at work? Wanting to get his mind off of the fact that he's going to be quite late to the game, Carlos turns on the radio. The man is mindlessly skipping through the stations until something catches his attention - the announcer introduces you as today's guest.

"Hello again, pretty girl," Carlos says to himself. A small smile enters his face.

"First of all, I'd like to thank you," the radio host begins. "Unfinished Business is just the album I've been waiting for this year. And not only me! Have you seen Billboard 100 lately?"

Your flustered giggle is just as adorable as always. "Yesterday evening, I think?"

The broadcaster sighs dramatically. "Then you have ancient news. I have the site pulled up now and check it every few minutes. Let me tell you, Unfinished Business has climbed twenty spots since morning."

"Oh, shoot."

"Indeed." The announcer laughs and Carlos does with him. It's such a familiar theme for the driver - you being more humble than you really should be, surprised by the success you entirely deserve.

"Now, to address the elephant in the room or rather on the music charts. Over and Over Again is like a love letter all of us have written but never sent. Tell me all about it!"

"I guess 'love letter' is a pretty good description," you explain. Curious, Carlos turns up the volume. "For some time, I was trying to put my thoughts together and tell someone how I felt but never could quite do it. I can write good songs but in real life, I'm pretty terrible at speaking my mind and talking about feelings. I just don't want people to misunderstand, you know?"

"What are you saying, hermosa?" Carlos asks aloud, although there's no one to answer him.

"At least you can write a song about it! We regular folk are stuck with memes and playlists."

"Thank God, I can!" You laugh and, as embarrassing as it may sound, Carlos feels a sudden warmth spreading through his chest. "I was struggling with saying what I wanted to say to him, so at some point, I just decided I could put those words and feelings into a song. He likes to listen to the radio when he's driving so he might even be listening right now."

Although nothing bad or negative is going on, Carlos feels himself growing tense, nervous. There's no doubt the "he" you keep mentioning is him but what exactly is it you've been trying to tell him? Is there something he's missing?

"Did you tell him you've written a song about him?" the radio host asks.

"It might have slipped my mind," you answer coyly.

The announcer only laughs. "Oh dear, what a way to find out! Without further ado, let's hear your love letter to the mysterious man. I really hope he's listening to us right now. Don't you dare change the station, you lucky guy."

To his own surprise, Carlos recognizes the melody - you've been humming it for weeks now. But as you begin singing, the words leave him in disbelief. Do you really... mean all of that?

Carlos is lost in the song, feeling as though the lyrics aren't just lyrics but your genuine confession; a true love letter, as you have said yourself. He's brought back to reality only when the car behind him honks and Carlos is a hair's breadth away from picking a fight with the other driver. Nothing requires more haste or attention than his girlfriend exclaiming to the whole world that he will always be the one for her and that she will love him over and over again.

Charles Leclerc

You don't hear Charles coming in - you're too lost in your own thing to remember there's an entire world outside of the song and the piano in front of you. On the other hand, Charles doesn't announce his arrival as he doesn't want to disturb you. To be perfectly honest, he's a little too curious to interrupt you. It happens very rarely that you practise outside of the studio and so Charles doesn't really get to hear your more casual singing, not an embellished performance for the audience.

As quietly as he can, he makes his way towards you. Charles casually leans against the doorframe, your back turned to him as you continue playing the piano. He barely bites back the smile that creeps onto his face whenever you effortlessly sing the high notes - they are difficult for professionals and yet you execute them so cleanly, they appear almost too easy.

The lyrics haunt him but in a truly delicious way. A particular note of sincerity in your voice makes the words stick to him like rain does to a reckless passerby. Sure, they will slip away, although not before drenching him; their vital piece will forever lie with him.

When the song comes to an end, Charles (without thinking twice) gives you a hefty applause. The surprise makes you almost fall off the chair.

"Shit, you scared me!" you yell at him. It takes a couple deep breaths and your boyfriend's apologies, to collect yourself. "How much did you hear?"

He shrugs, suddenly realizing that he wasn't supposed to hear even one note of the song. "Pretty much all of it."

Your expression must not be joyful as Charles resumes his apologies and poor attempts at excuses. Suddenly, you cut him off. "How'd you like it?"

For a moment, he only hums and mindlessly knocks at the doorframe, looking for the right words.

"I loved it," he confesses. A strange tension in his voice proves he's telling the truth. "It's a beautiful song."

"Good," you answer absentmindedly. Quietly, you nod to yourself before looking back at Charles, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "It would really suck if you hated a song about yourself, you know?"

His eyes grow wide and Charles seems to forget about blinking for a good minute. Judging by the changes in his expression, you can tell the exact thought process he's experiencing: realizing you've written a song about him, joy caused by that, remembering the lyrics and finally taking them personally.

The more observant fans might notice a new addition to his helmet: "Claire de Lune" written in elegant lettering.

George Russell

Common sense might tell you that a race car driver must have no fear. And that would be correct, although quite imprecise. They must have no fear on track, yes, but daily life is quite different from racing, isn't it? Or maybe George is discovering a range of emotions he has not known before.

Your relationship is fresh but that isn't to say it's not serious. The weight of the connection the two of you share is a major part of the reason why George has been dead set on taking things slow. The other part is him knowing what media circus will play out once the news breaks. It's hard to blame him for wanting to keep at least some aspect of his life private, especially one that means so much to him.

As understanding as you are, George's apprehensiveness is tiring. You perfectly understand his reasoning and to some degree share the sentiment but at the same time, you are just somebody in love - you itch to scream it to the whole world. Or, at the very least, share a picture of the two of you. Both of you haven't been middle-schoolers for quite some time now, so why act like ones?

George, like the supportive boyfriend he is, loves to see you in your element. He watches the music videos, yet, but he much prefers the dance practice videos, where you're visibly enjoying each second of the choreography. Therefore, when you upload a new dance video for your song, he's probably the first person to play it.

It's a catchy tune that makes even the most boring people want to dance a little. With his head moving to the rhythm, George doesn't focus much on the lyrics until something in the second verse catches his attention:

So used to hiding We built our kingdom around The right timing

The lines, understandably, hit a little too close to home to be a pure coincidence. Now suspicious, George replays the video - this time, he's actually listening to the words instead of focusing on your dancing. Any hesitation that he's the true recipient of the song is gone with the first line of "Say you want me". The desperation in your voice is simply too candid to be just an act for the sake of the performance.

With the song loudly playing on a loop, George is scrolling through his phone's gallery in search of the best pictures of the two of you. He can't help but mouth the lyrics along with your singing, only to randomly giggle as the thought once again settles - it's about him.

Your phone can't stop vibrating. The notifications are coming nonstop. What on Earth happened? Upon opening Instagram, the mystery is solved. The internet seemed to be set on fire when George posted a series of pictures of the two of you with a caption that earned a giddy chuckle from you: "Setting us in motion".

Max Verstappen

Max and you both understand how much support can change. Sometimes just knowing that this other person is out there, watching and cheering, can change everything. As such, the two of you try to attend each other's events as much as you can. Unfortunately, the universe isn't always kind and you end up on the opposite ends of the world. The only support you can offer then is watching the live-streamed event - just like Max is doing right now.

He's sitting in his driver's room in Singapore, while you're at an award show in the USA. Quite the distance. There's something unbearably humbling about having to watch your performance like most of the world, when Max is, without a doubt, not most of the world.

In the back of his mind, Max is still thinking about the conversation he had with you earlier. Although he never misses your performances, you made it a point to tell him to watch this one. In your own words, he's supposed to look out for something fun, like a detail that will make this show different from the others. So as though he is a hawk, or more of a vulture, Max is hyperanalizing everything that's happening on the screen. He's not about to miss your little surprise.

The song begins and as much as he wants to enjoy watching you in your element, Max is a missile on a mission. Nothing specific seems to catch his eye but that t-shirt you're wearing...

Max knows it all too well. Theoretically, it's his t-shirt but considering you wear it more often than he does, it's practically yours. Now it's styled to fit the concept and image of your bandmates but the colour, the logo, the number, are all unmistakeable. Considering how much you're touching the article of clothing, compared to other dancers, he's convinced he's found what he was meant to look for.

Before he can wonder why you've chosen to wear his t-shirt for your performance, it's you who gives him the answer through the lyrics:

I feel like for the first time I am not faking Fingers on my buttons and now you're playing Master of anticipation, don't you keep it all to yourself

Max Verstappen doesn't get flustered but if he did, he'd be beyond flustered right now. The realization hits him like a derailed train - the song that everyone has been obsessed with through the summer and that has pretty obvious sexual lyrics is actually about him.

And if he did get flustered, the emotion would be rather short-lived, giving way to pride. After all, the core meaning of the song is that he's a generous lover, right? Clearly, he's been taking good care of his girlfriend.

Now, each sung line of "Just the touch of your love" makes Max all the more frustrated that the two of you are so far apart. He's earned his title of "Master of anticipation" and he intends to keep it.

[kyri45]

✨ShadowPeach Bio Parents Bio AU Q&A! 05/03✨

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

@roseville140 ha chiesto Love your art so much 💗 💜 💖 💕 ❤️ 💓 💗 💜 💖 💕 ❤️ Also question ask this a few times(sorry): What will mk do? Will he make them immortal or be next to them till their last breath?

I don't think he would force them of make them immortal without their consent. He is too good for that

@blossomships ha chiesto: Okay, first ask, but hey, what the heck! Your art is awesome, and the story, It went from "Oh, this boy might be our son" to "omg he's our son and let's fixed our relationship" that's what I think about this in a nutshell lmao and it's crazy how far it has come. So thank you for your contribution to gay monkies- I mean to the fandom, and you are awesome.

Aww thank you!

@anidiotkid ha chiesto: What's going to happen when the comic ends? Do you have any more big projects in mind?

I have other life things to focus on, the ISAT comic, but also I want to share here all the art that I've made in the past 2 years that I never posted on Tumblr

@yuistarlmk ha chiesto: I don't think I'm ready for it to end but i knew this would happen so thank you soooo much for all the stuff you have done for all of us, making us believe in ourselves and more so I'm happy for being a HUGE fan of you. Thank you ⭐⭐

THANK YOUU!!

@jamcyote ha chiesto: Not really a question but... I'm so glad I'm not the only one who thought that it would be a cool idea if the writers made it so that chaos energy/ magic is a perfect mixture of Shadow and what I like to call physical magic (which is what Wu kon has) Slight rant. Chaos magic I don't think is as chaotic as people think. Chaos is more like not seeing or understanding the pattern of something, but everything has a rhyme or reason chaos magic is just rare so people don't know how it works and it probably works very differently than other magic and doesn't have an easy to see pattern (when people don't understand how things work, they become afraid of it). Therefore it's chaos. Chaos tends to have a bad rap but it is not always bad. It just needs to be understood and once it's understood it's no longer "chaos" and is instead another form of magic (that is most likely more powerful than the other forms), but magic itself isn't good or bad it's the person wielding it that makes it One way or the other.

I'll also share my own thoughts about it: I know the whole "Harbinger" thing doesn't mean that he brings chaos, but the connection between that kind of energy and MK for me it always has been "cool, he is a SYMBOL of chaos" like, he's a big ass chaos flag that, once born, has been flying screaming at everyone "HEY YALL! IT'S CHAOS TIME SOON!". Like, the chaos that is coming is literally the primordial chaos that will come once the cycle end because from it must start a new one. But it would make sense that, since there seems to be a whole ass society of people in the chaos realm, that he would at the very least be one of them, like when you are sending someone from your country as an ambassador to give a message

@lordmushroomkat ha chiesto: Ohhh he's never tried to use Wukong and Macaque's powers at the same time before, has he? Ohhhhhhh my stars

nope.

@steadylandface ha chiesto: What’s Nüwa’s reaction to what has completely happened so far in your Shadowpeach Bio parents Au?

She still is dissapointed by MK choice to not end the cycle, so she hasn't been so present. I would suspect she's surprised mostly for the fact that all of this resulted in the biggest un-divorce of the millenia

@candlefox1 ha chiesto: Hi so I hope it’s not too much to ask but I thought mei was also part immortal as well since her great grandfather the dragon of the east was a dragon so doesn’t that make her part immoral or could she visit her dragon relatives to ask ??

She can live longer than a normal human, and, if she only stays as a spiritual dragon, she could, theoretically, live even longer. But not forever.

@primroseprime2019 ha chiesto: You just loooove hurting me with the immortal bit, don'tcha?

yes. Becaue it hurts me too.

@emmabuggy ha chiesto: Are pigs, and tang scared that Mk only will have the monkeys as parents to guide him?

I mean, he has a bunch of people immortal that will also help him.

@injuvanillafruit ha chiesto: Do the monkie trio like bubbles? 🥰🥰

I guess Macaque and MK do. But Wukong doesn't really like anything with water too much.

@vinnillastrawberry ha chiesto: So since you confirmed their will be a dance party I wonder, How many chapters will the dance party be maybe like 4 or 5 ?

3.

@xaelanyx ha chiesto: hello!!!! I love your comic so much. when will you draw another spicy scene for spicynoodles and shadowpeach???

Not soon, the story is ending.

@roseltelle ha chiesto: Do they celebrate the day he was adopted by pigsy and tang as his birthday? I would assume so since they wouldn't know when his stone was cracked.

Yes, since it's also the same day when his stone hatched.

@shadowlilly101 ha chiesto: How did Macaque and Princess Iron Fan meet and become sworn siblings?

They knew each other from the brotherhood, but then bonded over having lost their housbands

@vevebcu ha chiesto: Can I make a fanart with my OC inside your comic? 🥺👉👈

yes

@atrocity101 ha chiesto: Hi! Sorry if I am bothering you in any way, shape, or form by messaging you, but I wanted to ask an important question. I have tried several times to research the details in how demons go about the rules of courting their chosen mate and what they can or not do beforehand or afterwards. You seem like one of the more detailed people to ask for info, could you possibly provide any details of the whole demon courting rules and such? Or provide a link to anywhere that’ll help me understand the logistics of it? (PS: I am in love with your AU and I adore every bit of it, thank you for all the hard work you put into it and please continue it! Have a wonderful day/night, and stay safe out there.)

It's mostly a fan-made thing. I don't have many resources except fanfictions that explain it more in details, like this one: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56963272

@ava115 ha chiesto: Is Redson in your au immortal like Mk? Or can he just live long sense he's a demon?

He's not exactly immortal, but can live an absurd long time.

@thenerdycupcake ha chiesto: I just realized something. Since MK can hear the past, that means he can hear his loved ones’ voices whenever he wants. No matter how much time has passed.

yes, similar to watching videos of your loved ones.

@alixzanrite ha chiesto: I thought that Pigsy, Tang, and Sandy were stuck in a reincarnation cycle because of Journey to the west? And if not wouldn't Mk be able to see them in heaven?

*sighs* I'm in no way qualified to talk about those religions, but technically if they are reincarnations of the old gang, they could be stuck in reincarnation still and might be reincarnated in the future again, bu they wont be the same people of course. If they reached buddahood they could stay in heaven. I think

@s-p-r-i-n-g-t-i-m-e ha chiesto: okay newest chapter was devastating. BUT. WUkong shirtless and Mac wearing his husband's pyjamas?????? (also Wukong spooning Mac when he originally allowed Mac to be the big spoon so he'd maintain control over the situation but now Mac trusts Wukong enough to give up that control???)

technically they were facing each other, and Mac had his arm over Wukong waist, but sweet nonetheless

@kiwi-kiwidraws ha chiesto: More heart break till the very end, right Kyri?

yes

@fresastar ha chiesto: just have to say is Will mk and wukong have a talk about everything that will happen from mk becoming immortal because wukongs friends later on dies naturally and wukong may have been sad and devastated about it, So maybe wukong can tell mk how to handle this realization or he tries to help because again he lived his whole life seeing his family go on and his friends leave and dies. sorry if this is much, you don't have to answer this😅

Yes, they will talk about it, but that's more a future conversation.

@worddraws ha chiesto: Wait so is MK immortal in the until the heat death of the universe way, in the immortal immortal way, or in the there’s no heat death of the universe and the earth exists forever way? I wish to know how angsty him being immortal is

He is "there’s no heat death of the universe and the earth exists forever way" immortal, but he's NOT INVINCIBLE! He is still capable to being killed.

@angelikis1 ha chiesto: HI!! 😁 I'M A BIG FAN OF YOUR COMICS!! also i have a question: are we ever gonna see any of MK's clones?

Eh, not for now.

@5hiny5tar-ceph ha chiesto: Heyyyyy!!!! So! I've really liked this last ep (almost made me cry ngl-) But- Shouldn't Pigsy and Tang spend more time with Xiaotian know that they know that he's immortal, and have more moments as a family, instead of doing that cooking activity with Wukong and Mac (like, I get why but still- (no offense))? Or do they just make this activity when Xiaotian is not around (Maybe hanging out with Mei or Red Son I dunno-)?

MK was with Mei when they did this.

@purplemango26 ha chiesto: Random question, but this popped up into my head a few seconds ago. Since you know and watch Lego Monkid Kid and even have an amazing au of it, I'm curious. Do you also know/watch Ninjago? Considering the whole thing with the switch of animation for Lego Monkie Kid from Flying Bark to Wild Brain who just happened to animate Ninjago, I want to know if you have at any point watched the series and or movie. By the way, huge thanks for all that you've done for feeding the LMK community. You are my top 1 provider of Shadowpeach content so I hope that you'll stay nice and healthy in the long run 💜 It's amazing how consistent you are when staying on schedule!

I watched Ninjago when I was a kid, but like only up to the 6th season (yes, I know, I'm very much behind). I also saw the movie

@roonotrue ha chiesto: Hi, Kyri!! This is my first ask on your blog, but I was just curious, with your ShadowPeach Bio Parents AU, what are your height headcanons for all the characters?? I've been trying to find some to use as reference for some of my own Ao3 fanfics/what everyone generally seems to agree on, and I figured since you're literally my favorite lmk artist, I'd ask for your headcanons!! (Idk if maybe you've answered something like this before, so feel free to ignore it you have, lol) Okie, thank you for your time, and I love your art a lot, and I'm super excited for the next update, okay byeeeee-

I'm not gonna list all the character, just the main ones, also I'm using the international metric scale because I'm a normal human being.

Macaque: 180cm

Wukong: 175cm

MK: 166cm

Mei: 172cm

Red Son (glamoured): 179cm

Red Son (True Form): 205cm

Tang: 178cm

Pigsy: 140cm

@peanut-with-wifi-access ha chiesto: Would you be okay with people writing their own sequels/continuations of the shadowpeach bio parent au when it eventually ends?

yeah sure, as long as you credit me and the au

@alastair-1205 ha chiesto: SOBBING OMFG but I also have a question lol. What exactly did MK mean when he asked Nezha to "check his aura"? As in like see if he's immortal or something else? I'm just a bit confused lol

yes it was for his immortality

@roseltelle ha chiesto: I'm curious in a universe where Wukong raised Mk when would macaque have met mk?

there are several fics exploring this concept, like A Son of Two Dads or Squished Apricots. Some of them consider that Macaque knew from almost the beginning, in others Macaque discover it after they met in the show.

@internet-grab-my-tumblr ha chiesto: So i have a baby monkie OC, but I’ve never been able to decide how to start it…if I were to, I’m, use your AU as a springboard (after all this nonsense Nuwa decides to give the monkies an apology gift in the form of a child they can actually raise together), would this be okay? It would you prefer any fics inspired by your work leave out OCs?

you can use your OC as long as you credit the AU part you want to use in your story.

@lagt-trinket-box ha chiesto: Sorry to bother But are you gonna create a thread of all the redraws of the art event road from parenthood? Just asking because I am curious to see more people redraws!

I’ll try to reblog as many as I can!

@twilight-bai-he ha chiesto: Is mei gonna be the maid of honor for spicynoodles wedding 🥰🥰? High chance she will be 🐉

of course!

@shay-bug ha chiesto: Hi! Sorry to bother you, but would it be possible if you could make car stickers for your shadowpeach bio parents au? You don't have too I just thought it would be cool since I got a new car Also, I thought I read a while back that you said after shadowpeach bio parents au comic you were might make a sonadow comic? Is that true, or did I make it up in my head? Even if you changed your plans, I'm sure the next comic you make is going to be wonderful! I love you work! Sending lost of kudos! Also, at this point, I think the shadowpeach bio parents au is a graphic novel, lol.

unfortunately RedBubble doesn’t have the option for car decals….

@darker-moon ha chiesto: are panel compilations allowed in the new shadowpeach bio-parents takeover?? i have zero talent and zero time to do anything else :'D

up to 10 panels yes.

@shadowlilly101 ha chiesto: So was she going to put mk into the piller or was she saying that if wukong had gotten mk he would have died

that if Wukong would have found it in one way or the other also heaven would have noticed.

@domo-fan1 ha chiesto: I love that Wukong acknowledges that whole yes they were happy in the past, it wasn't exactly healthy. And when they met again after years, they weren't happy but it was more healthy just because they weren't holding back their thoughts as much. True, it was mostly negative but honestly is nice. But!! As they move forward as a couple, they have to leave the past behind as it's nice but it's riddled with problems of the variety and that the future should be better. Also I feel like they'll be that sickening sweet couple every now and then, before returning to typically them. But their sweet moments are just so random that just makes everyone around facepalm. I mean we already saw them do that when they free fall in the sky to kiss. If MK follows in their footsteps, Redson is gonna have speed run in adjusting lol.

poor redson he’s going to print a tshirt that says “do not interrupt him, or else” since MK is never gonna let him go and will remain climbed to his man 24/7

@straightally2001 ha chiesto: I'm confused though. Wasn't MK a kid, not a baby, when he ended up at Pigsy's Noodles? Also, I love your Shadowpeach Bio Parents au comic series! You are one of my favorite artists ever Kyri! If you are open to suggestions, I have an idea for an au you can make after you complete this one. How about an au where Macaque was never brought back to life by LBD and was instead reincarnated. Obviously with the ships Shadowpeach, Spicynoodles, and Freenoodles

he is around 3 years old, he looks much smaller because Guanyin is wayy taller than a normal human being.

also I’m 70% sure I read a fic about that.

@raspberrymixin ha chiesto: O k we've got kai in the fray of spicy noodles child but what about Nya? His sister? I have an idea for her to me like Mei's adoptive child? And them growing up be be close as siblings? Cuz you know nya is the water ninja and Mei's family blood line are Chinese water dragons - just a thought- It's okay if you don't answer

yes Nya is Mei child and the two of them are so close that they consider themself siblings, much like MK and Mei.

@green000moth ha chiesto: Do You plan to do more spicy scenes in Shadowpeach biologic parents au?

nope

@lordmushroomkat ha chiesto: I'm a spicynoodles shipper now and I blame you <3

good

@fanficmaniatic ha chiesto: I mean this in the best possible way but the way you draw Macaque makes me want to hit him rEALLY hard in the facee with a commically large harmer. It activates my cute agression in the worst possible way I need to smash his head. I undertand JTTW Wukong on a molecular level. It wasnt a fight, It was cute agression.

when I draw Macaque I get hit by a comically large hammer because In realise I will never get a man like him.

@shadowlilly101 ha chiesto: He can hear and see the past and show others?

yesss

@king-ryuusei ha chiesto: okay. So first off, i LOVE this serie. Always excited for every chapter drop ! Your art is amazing, love what you did. now on to my question : how does Chaos energy does exactly in your au ? (Went on the lmk wiki and the lack of explication of what it dies exacly is criminal) so could you explain to us what exactly it does ? Pretty Please ? (PS: i know i said it once but i love the comic. Can’t believe we're almost at the end. Hope you have a great day/night. Byeeee!)

i’ll redirect you to THIS post

[ciderjacks]

ok I mentioned this earlier and people were sort of confused but I’m gonna try to explain why I think the long AND short lifespan issues were resolved by the end of dungeon meshi. WARNING: DUNMESHI SPOILERS AHEAD

-

Part 1: the lifespans aren’t natural

ok so I’m gonna start with that no I don’t think Marcille got her wish, at least not the way she wanted. Marcille wanted to bend the rules of nature so everyone would live an unnaturally long time. However, the lifespans that the races in dungeon meshi have (besides tall-men, but I’ll get to that later) are also not natural. They only had those lifespans because the winged lion was maintaining that lifespan for their race.

You can see at least 3 different races here that are asking for different life spans, what they’re asking for lines up with what the lifespans are.

the dwarf asked for immortality, the elf asked specifically for a thousand year life, the half foot heard this and said that was too long, and to make it shorter. The only ones who didn’t ask for a lifespan alteration were the (would be) tall-men. The lifespans aren’t natural, they’re caused by the demons magic…

part 2: so what of the demons magic?

This is I think the most explicit statement, that the demons magic, every wish the demon granted, is lost. This includes lifespans, one of the oldest wishes it granted. And I wanna highlight one thing she says specifically. “We have the luxury of time”. I don’t think that means a long life, I think it means the opposite. The narrative regards these lifespans as unnatural, destructive and soul sucking. The immortal townspeople are cursed, time doesn’t matter to them, and so they have no desires, or drive to continue. This is depicted by them finding food flavourless.

and when they no longer have immortality look at how they think of food. That is the luxury of time, not to avoid it, but to experience it. This is what the “long-lived” races must learn in the absence of the demon, now lacking the extra hundreds of years the demon had gifted them. That’s why it’s important that Marcille didn’t get her wish the way she wanted, because she wanted everyone to live forever. And speaking of Marcille’s wish.

She says she’s learned to embrace death, and not because of anything the demon did. She wanted to live forever with her friends, she didn’t want to confront death. With the demons magic gone, she no longer has the extra thousand years. She’s learning to accept her friends mortality, yes, but she’s also learning to accept her own.

part 3: the theme of accepting death

Like I said earlier, Marcille is afraid of death. So is Delgal/Yaad. The end of the story resolves their acceptance around death and dying. As much as Marcille wanted everyone else to live, there’s a reason she decided everyone should just live a thousand years. She doesn’t want to sacrifice her own lifespan, she wants infinite time with the people she loves. In the aftermath of the winged lion, she instead gets a much shorter amount of time. Delgal/Yaad is similar, in that he feared death. He says he was afraid of dying and losing everything, but now he’s ok with that reality, because the reality of an extended or eternal life was much worse.

part 4: the curse of living and the curse of living too long

To desire is to eat is to live. Our most primal instincts. The long lived races, while not immortal and desire-less, had an unnatural amount of time on their hands. They were able to forego their humanity because they’d been gifted all the time they wanted, which lead to fighting and oppression of the short lived races (which is why it’s important for Laios to be the king, even though the elves and dwarves have lost the demons magic. Their mindset at that point in time, is of people with too much time on their hands.)

When Falin speaks to the demon, stripped of all his desire, he describes living as cruel. From his perspective, humans have a limited time and a constant desire, sorrow and anxiety pressing at them. Yet, Falin says it’s delicious. The fear inherent to living is natural, it’s what makes life interesting, and so it’s thematically important that the magic allowing certain races to avoid this reality isn’t maintained. Marcille’s wish was based in truth, it was how she went about it that was wrong.

Part 5: the end of the racial power dynamic

Obviously the races and cultures are still different, they were different before the winged lion began granting wishes, and will remain different, however what the narrative tells us again and again is that the lifespans are equivalent to a power structure. Elves and dwarves are at the top, because they were granted long lives. This power structure is explicitly not natural, it’s not how the races should be, Ryoko Kui emphasizes this several times. So given this, I think it’s really important that at the end, when the demons magic is gone, all the races become one unit. There is no more power structure, is what this implies. One of humanities oldest desires, the desire to live eternally, is undone.

Ryoko Kui wanted to show that the racism and the power structures weren’t logical, and they weren’t natural, and now the people will have to navigate without those, without differences of lifespan, and without the ability to push away death.

part 6: conclusion

“Surely your kind exists for no reason but to starve” = “you exist for no reason but to die”

as Laios literally consumes life force itself, destroying the demon and destroying its magic. After he does this, the races are portrayed as one unit. The elves say that while magic isn’t gone, the demon’s and what came with it is, and that things will be different from thereon-out.

magic will continue to exist, but its been effectively reset, or unraveled, by the death of the demon.

the ability to live hundreds of years is lost, and while the winged lion, an eternal creature, thinks of this as a curse, to humans it’s a secret blessing. The impact of time is what keeps us going.

The structures set up by the ancient lifespan wishes are also undone. No race should get to live longer than any other, humans shouldn’t have unnatural structures like that. It disrupts the natural flow of living. Thats the resolution to the lifespan issue. Not “Marcille has to accept that she’s going to live an unnaturally long life”, but “Marcille has to accept that no one should have that much time, including her”. That’s why I think the lifespan issue is resolved when the demon dies. Thanks for reading, if you managed to read all of this.

[lovinglokilaufeyson]

Five Minutes - L.L.

Pairings: Loki x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Not Proofread, Smut, Oblivious!Reader, Reader in Denial, Horny!Loki, Loki's use of magic, Intern!Reader, Dubcon (if you squint), Threesome (technically), Mutual Pining

Wordcount: 2,009

Summary: Loki has it bad for you. Having recently graduated from college, Tony Stark recruited you to work for him in his lab. A certain tall, dark and mysterious god takes a quick liking to you. He loves teasing you, and it's very clear that he wants you. To everyone but you, of course. Loki begins to use his magic to strip you of your defenses, but how will you respond?

A/N: Hey guys! I hope you enjoy this little imagine I wrote up! As always, thank you all for your support on all of my other stories, I appreciate every single one of you! Without further ado, some fresh Loki smut.

The Avengers compound amazed you. There was so much to see, and Tony Stark had become somewhat of a father figure for you. He was very encouraging and for the most part, you were enjoying your start at the tower. You felt like the Avengers were like your family now. Natasha, Thor, and Steve were all like older siblings to you. Thor's brother Loki, however, had made several advances towards you. You always felt that he was teasing or that he wouldn't be interested in someone like you. You were a mere mortal, and although you were intelligent, Loki was a god.

However, he was a god who knew what and who he wanted. And he had his eyes set on you. The team didn't completely trust Loki yet. So, whenever they found themselves on a mission and you were stuck working in the lab, Loki always seemed to make his way up there to see you. On a typical day, he was always hiding in the library. But whenever you were in the lab alone, he was there to find you. Today was one of those days.

Loki also loved to comment on your lab gear, as he thought it was adorable. Your goggles, lab coat, your face shield. It was just simply adorable. So, when he spotted you in the lab, doing some experiments, he internally grinned. He opened up the glass door leading inside, and immediately you glanced up at him. "Oh darling, why can't you just be mine already?" You giggled, but avoided the question. "Loki, how many times have I told you that you need to be in proper lab attire to be in the lab? It is far too danger-" Loki shushed you by placing his index finger over your lips.

"And how many times have I told you I'm a god, love?" You glared up into his eyes. "That doesn't mean you're immortal from chemical burns, Loki."

"Aren't you bored up here?" He asked you suddenly. "No, thank you for asking. I'm quite entertained by what I'm doing here."

"So that means you don't want me to tear those clothes off of you?" Loki proposed. "I- I- um-" You stuttered, clearly flustered by his question. He shushed you again with his index finger. You blushed, pulling away from him slightly. "I'm working."

"You can't just take a little fifteen minute break?" He pondered. You went to speak, before he spoke again. "Actually, we both know it'd turn into much longer than that." He winked, and your cheeks turned into an even deeper red hue.

"Okay, doll. I'll leave you be. For now..." The god left your presence, and suddenly you felt a longing in your chest for him. You did like Loki. A lot. But you felt that his teasing you must be completely silly and only due to the fact that he was completely and entirely out of your league.

╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╯

The next time you saw Loki was when the Avengers returned from their mission later that day. Tony called a post-mission meeting in the team room to talk about strengths and weaknesses of the team and how improvements could be made.

You sat down with your cup of water, ready to talk with everyone about how the mission had gone. Everyone was alive, so the conversation was promising. In addition, no one ended up in the medical wing of the tower. Therefore, the meeting was to take place in the conference room in mere minutes. Tony, Thor, Natasha, Bruce, Steve, yourself, Loki, and several others sat among a large table.

Tony began with an overview of the mission, and although you tried your best to pay attention, you couldn't help but zone out unexpectedly several different times. You went for your glass of water, taking a small sip.

However, Loki had other plans. He formulated that a combination of your white blouse and water would be a delightfully - nearly lethal - one. With a flick of his hand, the water slipped out of the glass and onto the fabric that now coated your chest. The fabric that once hung loose, complimenting the shape of your breasts now completely surrounded them, and Loki loved the sight. You cursed to yourself, then got up and retreated to your room to change. Everyone understood why.

Loki, being his mischievous self, created a clone of himself to watch upon the meeting, while the other followed you to your bedroom.

"Darling, are you alright?" Loki knocked on your door with little to no hesitation. "Yes, Loki! I'm alright. Thank you for asking. Just getting changed!" In an instant, Loki transported himself into your room. Your white, lacy bra exposed to him, along with your tight black pencil skirt leaving little to the imagination. You gasped.

"I wouldn't mind helping you get undressed..." Loki spoke, shocking you. Your heart started to beat faster and faster. "I- um- we have a meeting to attend, Loki." Although you had always sensed Loki's teasing towards you, it was always your understanding that all it was was teasing. Nothing more. But this - this was different. He was standing in front of you now, seeing more than most men ever had. Recognizing just how much you were exposed to the god, you attempted to fold your arms across your chest, which he immediately pulled back down to the side.

"Don't hide yourself from me, darling." Loki's voice was soft, yet stern. You gazed up at him, your innocent doe eyes doing more to him than you could ever imagine. Loki felt himself hardening more, if at all possible. "Let's make a deal, Y/N L/N. If I can get your precious mortal form to cum in 5 minutes or less, then you become mine."

You stood still for a moment, like a deer in headlights, completely shocked from his words. If you were honest, you had no idea that Loki even knew your last name. "I- I-" you started, unable to pursue words any longer. "Do we have a deal?" Loki spoke, more confidently than ever. "What do you mean I become yours?" You almost snapped at him, suddenly becoming somewhat agitated by the pressure of Loki's presence. "Your delicious physical form will be mine, your mind, your heart, all of it."

"So a slave?" "No, not a slave. I worship you too much. I just want you." You looked perplexed for a moment. "But why?" "Darling, shh. Your questions are terribly incessant. So, do we have a deal?"

"I would like to adjust the terms slightly. If - and I mean if - you can make me cum in 5 minutes, you can take me out on a date. Being a piece of property just really does not appeal to me in the slightest." In all honesty, you did not anticipate Loki taking your bid for a mere date. "Darling, I do not view you as property, not at all. However, I will accept your offer for this 'date.'"

And with that, Loki placed his lips firmly on yours. Slightly in shock, you pulled away for a mere moment. "Ah ah ah, we need a timer." You pulled out your phone, setting a timer for 5 minutes. He planted a kiss on you once more, wasting absolutely no time stripping you of your skirt, bra, and panties. 4m 53s.

He pushed you onto the bed, magically ridding himself of his own clothes as well. With the snap of his fingers, his clothes were removed, the green dust dissolved and they quickly dissipated, revealing his brilliant body underneath. 4m 47s. 

His cock stood at attention, its length prominent. Certainly larger than you had taken previously. You had begun to doubt the possibility of Loki even being able to fit inside of you. Before you could question it further, you felt Loki’s heated breath on your labia, his fingers parting it slightly so he could coax forward your clitoris towards his tongue. 

He brought his mouth to sit around your clit, suckling lightly as he got you warmed up. Similarly, he brought his fingers to massage your breasts, paying special attention to your nipples. Suddenly, a magical green aura flashed, and a second Loki was upon you, taking your lips in his, twisting his tongue amongst yours, and almost most importantly, bringing your wrists up to hold in restraint above your head. 4m 32s. 

Your heat became considerably wetter, especially now that there were two Lokis playing with you. You moaned, which was mostly absorbed by Loki’s mouth, which was still toying with yours. You felt your nipples get pinched, at this point you weren’t sure by which Loki. You just knew pleasure, and that you were writhing with it, overwhelmingly so. 

You felt a teasing finger prod your entrance, almost beckoning you forward to beg for Loki’s member. However, you were distracted enough by the gentle kisses that were being placed on your lips, that you didn’t want to pull away from aside from the ever so slight breath that was needed for your pleasure to continue. Loki’s tongue continued to swirl around your clit teasingly, as your canal spasmed around his finger. 4m 15s.

You felt Loki’s lips release from yours, while you still felt the pressure from the other Loki lower. You let out a brief moan, making eye contact with the Loki above. “Good girl. Let me hear your beautiful sounds, darling.” 3m 57s. 

“You’re quite wet down here, my love. How would you like to feel your God inside of you?” The other Loki spoke from below, while simultaneously continuing to play with your clit and inside of you. You nodded feverishly, desperate to feel more than just Loki’s fingers in you. “Say it, my love.” “Please, Loki. Please.” 

“With pleasure, darling.” 3m 28s. The other Loki who was kissing you disappeared into green dust, as the first stood up. “I prefer this part to be more intimate, just the two of us.” 

Suddenly, Loki’s tip prodded against your opening, he took his time swirling around it before gently pressing inwards. You let out a moan as his tip entered you, pressing against your walls. His girth was certainly more than anyone you had been with previously. He is a god, after all. “Fuck,” you cursed. 

Loki tsked. “Be a good girl for me” he slid inside of you with a sudden movement, fully penetrating you. 2m 45s. 

“Oh my god” you moaned. “That’s right, your god.” 2m 22s. 

Loki brought your legs to his shoulders, thrusting steadily inside of you as he kissed your lips. You had never felt this much pleasure in your life. You groaned out as Loki released your lips from his. “Feels good, doesn’t it baby?”

“So, so good” you moaned, his pulsating inside of you more and more consistent, more intense with every stroke. “You’re so good for me, love.” 

Your legs shaking with pleasure as Loki continued his persistent pounding of your canal. 1m 57s.

“I’m-” you stuttered, Loki hardly giving you a chance to catch your breath as warmth built inside of your stomach. “You’re what, darling?” Loki questioned teasingly, knowing you barely had it in you to answer. 1m 34s. 

“I’m gonna- oh my god.” 

“You’re gonna what, love?”

“Cu-cum.” 

“Cum with me, darling. Now.” 1m 2s. 

You felt Loki’s hot fluids coat your insides, as your pleasure brought you to the most incredible orgasm of your life. Loki, staying inside of you, brought his mouth to yours to continue his delicate, yet intense, displays of affection. “Looks like I got about a minute to spare, my lady. So when’s that date?” 

Loki slid out of you, landing next to you on the bed where he could snuggle in close to you.

“Well, let’s count out today, I won’t be able to walk until at least tomorrow.” Loki placed kisses on your cheek and jawline as he held you close. 

“We’ll stay here until then, my love.”

[leviackermanstoes]

Hopefully you do castlevania nocturne but if not please ignore!

May i request uhhh an alucard x (immortal, not half bampire or anything, they just happen to be immortal)reader where he just.. has a crush on them? Headcanons or drabbles! Its alright your pick!

The scenario is the reader offers the group shelter in their home for a while before the battle!

OH EM GEE WAIT THIS IS SO SO SO CUTE ANON🦋🦋🦋

-

headcanons for adriān alucard tepes crushing on immortal !reader.

⚘️ when alucard first meets you, he's hurrying richter and maria to safety when he stumbles across your cottage in the woods. Sceptical at first, alucard knocks at the door with his sword at the ready. But he doesn't expect that he would come face to face with someone who looked like you.

⚘️you had rushed to the door with a fresh apple pie in your hand to see three rundown and dirty Warriors at your door. Two were young, only about 19 or 20, and the other was much taller than them, and immediately you knew he was a vampire like yourself.

⚘️You hurried them in after seeing the fear on the two younger ones' faces. Closing the door behind you, you quickly rushed to put your pie on the kitchen bench.

⚘️"what happened to you all?" "It's a long fucking story"

⚘️Alucard, who offers to help wash the dishes for you after seeing how much you had to do around the house.

⚘️alucard who admires how caring you are towards richter and maria's injuries, tending to them and offering them food every few hours. "Are you hungry at all?" "No thank you miss"

⚘️alucard who doesn't know why he feels so drawn to you almost immediately, knowing he's just met you and knows nothing about who you are. The gleaming gold in your eyes tells him everything he needs to know however.

⚘️alucard who can't stop blushing at you. As you sat and listened to richter and maria's crazy stories about their battles and the things they had seen, alucard thought you might have once had children on your own.

⚘️alucard who tells you how much he appreciates your help and for giving them shelter and protection.

⚘️alucard, who hadn't felt like this in centuries, doesn't want to leave you. When he sees you upstairs preparing the beds for them all, he can't help but drown in adoration. Even his thirst for blood had never been so strong.

⚘️alucard, who asks you about your time as a vampire and tells you about his own too. "Im almost three centuries old so there's quite a lot to talk about" alucard only chuckles. "As am I, and besides...where's the time going for us?"

⚘️alucard who wakes up the next morning afraid of leaving you here. Alucard, who wants to offer to take you with them, back to his castle to his world. To stay with him.

⚘️You watch as the three of them prepare to leave, alucard is staring at you almost as if he has something to say to you. For the first time in his life, he's found someone perfect. Who can actually stay long with him without dying of old age. He's found someone he wants to love endlessly and yet he doesn't know just how to say that.

⚘️alucard who holds your face in his hands and kisses the top of your forehead and listens to richter and maria gossiping in the background.

⚘️"I should like to come back here, if you'd let me" you smile at the dhampir. "I'd very much like that"

[writing-mlm]

Hi, may I request a Tim Drake x male!reader story ? The reader is androgynous, has a rock/punk style, is a Japanese exorcist who dislikes heroes, and has an impulsive, shameless, and slightly paranoid personality. A fluff piece, please. Sorry for asking a lot, take care of yourself !

Stay for dinner-breakfast

Summary: Tim’s in a situationship with someone who hates heroes, this is just great. Pairing: Tim Drake x Male!Reader Wc: 3.8k tags/warnings: Japanese reader, way too many Blue Exorcist references, small demon fight

When most people familiar enough with demons or even the Justice League mention needing an exorcist, minds immediately go to the infamous John Constantine. The guy who managed to trick God and Satan, making himself nearly immortal. The guy who, admittedly, could probably control most demons with the flick of his cigarette.

Tim’s mind, however, wanders to a guy he met during his time abroad. When he had to do some Red Robin stuff that took him to Japan. He reminisces about it as if it was decades ago, in reality, it was two years ago. Hardly even two years, if he’s being honest. But he rarely is. 

While Bruce and Dick argue about whether or not they should call up John (the last time they did, Constantine ended up summoning more demons to deal with the initial demons and then blew up a building to get rid of the extra demons) (it cost Wayne Enterprises too much to justify asking that man for help again) Tim fishes out his phone. It doesn’t take him long to find the contact; it’s been what… a week since you’ve last spoken. He’s texted exactly three people within that week; Kon, Bart, and Jason. Jason because he wanted to know if he could join a drug bust he knew Jason had coming up. 

The answer was no. 

The phone rings as he spins in the chair, waiting until he hears that it’s connecting. Seriously, it’s already been three whole rings, what’s the hold-up?

“Whaddya want, hero boy?” You ask without looking down at the phone. Probably because you’re jumping from the ledge of a roof to a lamppost and then to the top of a vending machine. 

“You busy?” He asks, looking at the mole underneath your jaw. He hadn’t known that. Your head tilts from side to side as you make a noise. 

“I’ll have to check my calendar,” Glancing down at the phone, you wink and then pocket the phone. 

“There’s a demon in Gotham, could use the help.” He says, barely able to see as you’re fighting a demon. His eyes glance up at the contact name Okumura, unassuming to most because it is someone’s last name but to Tim, it’s so much more. 

He thought it was absolutely hilarious that you were an exorcist from Japan, raised by a priest, with a twin brother, and had the same hobbies as the anime where the main character is an exorcist from Japan, raised by a priest, with a twin brother. You didn’t think it was nearly as funny. The first time he mentioned it you kicked him from a rooftop— it was three stories, he was fine. 

“Like now?” You ask, picking your sword— just like the anime character, he’d gladly remind you— and cutting the demon in half with a mumbled but strong prayer. 

“Yes,” He nods, looking at the live feed of a demon messing up the finance district of Gotham. 

“Fine,” You grumble. “You’re lucky I finished my work for the day. See you in a minute.” 

“Kay, bye!” He hangs up and removes an earbud, calling for Bruce and Dick who haven’t stopped arguing. He wonders how they’d get anything done without him. They stop and look towards him as he waves his phone. “I have someone coming in for the demons.” He announces and Dick just hopes it’s not one of his friends from his YJ time. He cannot deal with those kids after finding out they watched Santa Claus get killed by a sentient meteor and then spent the next five months delivering gifts. 

“It isn’t Constantine, right?” Bruce asks, arms crossed and a disapproving glare ready to be plastered on his face. 

“That white man has nothing on me,” You chuckle, entering the Batcave through the door, spinning a set of skeleton keys on your index finger before putting them back into your pocket. Pointedly, Tim looks off to the wall with a see, anime guy look before turning back to the task at hand. 

“Who…?” Dick slowly asks while Bruce is having second thoughts about letting Tim back into the cave ever again.

“That’s Okumura,” He responds, standing up from the chair to greet you.

You’re wearing a pair of jorts— but the good kind, not the weird-looking ones— with hand-bleach-painted crosses on the leg, chunky beige leg warmers over a pair of shiny black loafers and an extremely large sweater that falls off your shoulder as you run down the stairs overtop a black turtleneck. 

There’s a pair of red shades on the top of your head, they curve at the top in a way that makes it look as though you have horns. Tim decides to not comment on the obvious joke he could make. But you can tell he wants to make it because of the glint in his eyes.

“Hello!” You nod without looking at them, too focused on not tripping over the steps, and give the group a small two-finger wave. “Tim calls me Okumura, it is not my name, though.” The hand that was doing the wave meets his hand and you do a funky little handshake before you look over at them for the first time. You frown, looking at their suits. It’s not even a frown, it’s damn near a scowl. You look at Tim who just shrugs; he would’ve thought you knew he was with his hero family.

“I’ll head out the demon; tell them not to follow me,” You tell Tim and he nods, sending you the location of the fight. While he does that, you look around for a different exit when you see his motorcycle parked, ready to go. “I’m stealing your motorbike again!” You call as you’re rushing over to it. 

“Kay!” He replies, head still buried in his phone. The motorcycle reeves to life as you jump on it; Bruce nearly stops you but the door to the cave is opening and you’re off faster than he can move. Slowly, he turns towards Tim with his arms crossed and a lecture waiting to happen.

“You better have a good explanation for that,” Bruce says once the door closes again. 

“That’s my exorcist friend,” He explains with a shrug. 

“You have friends outside of Kon?” Jason asks, a teasing tone to his voice but Tim can tell it genuinely surprised Dick. He doesn’t know if he should be hurt by that. 

“Yeah,” He shrugs. 

“And he’s an exorcist?” Bruce asks, looking at where the motorcycle once sat. He really hopes you don’t break it.

“Yup.”

“How did he get here so fast?” Dick asks, a little worried Tim was hiding a person in the manor.

“Funny story,” Tim smiles, looking up at them before looking down again, leaving them hanging. Jason grumbles, air strangling him while Bruce just sighs and looks back to the live feed. Thankfully you’d already arrived at the scene and to Tim and your credit, you’re dealing with the demons fairly easily. It’s surprising that your face is hidden from the public’s view, he hadn’t seen a mask but he also hadn’t seen the giant sword so. Probably some magic he won’t care about but probably should learn.

“Let’s go, fifteen Joker goons spotted around the site.” In a fluid motion, Tim puts his mask on and follows Bruce into the Batmobile. 

When Tim gets out of the car, he immediately finds you. You’re on top of a demon, riding it in the air while laughing and stabbing a nearby demon. He stops for a moment, wondering how you managed to wrangle a demon enough to sit on its back as if it were a horse. He then sees the knife in its head and he understands. He’s nearly jealous of the sight. 

Tim finally joins the others in the fight, narrowly avoiding the demons spawning from someplace he hasn’t found out yet. But you have, because you kill the flying horse demon and land softly behind Tim, cutting a demon away before it can sneak up on him. He shouts a thank you, pushing two goons back with his staff.

“I said no heroes!” You shout as you’re running past, heading towards a glowing manhole. How he hadn’t noticed it before; he won’t ever know. 

“Did he say no heroes?” Dick grunts, pushing back two goons that tried to jump him. 

“Yeah, he got issues with them.” Tim laughed before he was punched in the stomach by the goon he’d been fighting. He grumbles, holding the spot for a second before he knocks the goon out. “How many more are left?” He asks.

“Four,” Bruce says as he knocks out one of them. “Three.”

He goes to reply when there’s a loud explosion from the manhole and he looks over. Blue smoke rises out from the holes and he abandons trying to help the others fight the remaining goons in favor of finding you in the chaos. He doesn’t know what the smoke is but he assumes it’s some type of Joker Gas and he knows you’re not used to that. 

Putting a respirator on his face, he moves the manhole cover and jumps down. He squints into the blue fog, listening for noises but there’s a lot. There are hundreds of insect demons scurrying around him, hissing from the pipes, and he stops to really listen. He hears a string of coughs and follows it, the smoke getting thicker but he sees the faint outline of you lying on your back. 

“You don’ need a mask,” You huff, waving your hand in an attempt to move the smoke. “It is not poison.” 

“What is it?” He asks, removing the respirator as the smoke starts to clear, escaping up to the manhole. Your figure gets clearer, he can see your shirt and your hands resting on your stomach. 

“Spell,” You respond. “A… boobtrap for the talisman.”

“Boobytrap.” He corrects, putting the small device back into his pocket.

“That is what I said.” You blink, sitting up. He doesn’t fight you on that and helps you to your feet before he stops, hand still in yours. Now that you’re up close, he can really see you and when his eyes trail down, he inhales sharply and looks away.

“You’re not gonna believe this,” He says, covering his mouth with his free hand. 

“What? Did I get ugly? Do I look like you?” You ask, genuinely concerned as you pat your face but calm down when you feel your features. 

“Worse,” He grins and reaches around to grab your newly formed tail. “You really are Okumura now!” You shout, tugging at the tail only to wince because it’s connected to you. It only makes him laugh harder and you shout again, shaking him.

“This is not funny!” You tell him and then pause. “Thhhis,” You repeat and then cover your mouth. His eyebrows raise and, to his credit, he stops laughing. At least until you remove your hand and open your mouth, showing off the newly formed sharp canines. He barks a laugh and then pushes your hair away from your ear and you watch in horror as he spins on his heel to hide his expression. 

“You two okay down there?” Dick shouts from the top of the manhole.

“Fine!” Tim replies through his laugh. 

“That was one voice!”

“Fine!” You reply, even though you’re freaking out as your fingers trace over the suddenly sharp ears on your head. 

“I'm cursed!” You cry, dropping your head onto Tim’s shoulder, your ear nearly poking him in the eye. “This is your fault.” Pushing him away, you pick up your sword from the floor and resheath it with ease. “Never trust a hero,” You grunt, rushing over to the manhole.

“My fault?” He echos, following you out of the manhole. 

“You called me into your freaky city!” Climbing to the top of the manhole, you sit and kick his face. Not too hard, though. He shouts, holding his nose with one hand and the railing with the other. Standing up, you redo your hair over your ears and try to stuff the tail into your pants but it swings wildly and then wraps around something that’s behind you. 

When you look at what it was holding, you find it’s wrapped around Tim’s hand, helping him out of the manhole. 

“I think it likes you,” You grin despite yourself. 

“So, you like the tail?” He asks, checking his nose through the reflective metal of his staff. Thankfully his nose wasn’t broken, but it was throbbing in pain. Red on the end and he’s rubbing it with his free hand. You shrug, crossing your arms. 

“If it holds you like that,” Winking, he rolls his eyes under the mask and looks over at his family. Your eyes follow and you check your phone; there are no texts from anyone but you pretend that there are. 

“Wow, glad we settled that then.” He hums, smiling at you. 

“Mhmm, well, bye!” 

“Wait—“ He grabs the tail as you’re walking away and you grunt, eyes wide as you turn to look at him. Your eyes dart to and from the tail, watching as his fingers absentmindedly play with the soft furs on the end. “Stay for dinner, you did say I owed you.” When you first met, you’d gotten a glorious dinner and he ran into you, spilling it right into a sewer drain. You still think about that day and get upset. 

“Is it…” You cringe as you can’t find the right word. “American food?” He chuckles, remembering the countless videos you’ve sent him with angry and crying emojis. Hotdogs in jello, white bread soaked in water, mashed potatoes made out of potato chips, and boiled plain, unseasoned chicken with unwashed white rice.

“It’s not the American food you sent me.” He promises. “It’s good, I like it.” Your face scrunches as that’s not much to go off of; the man drinks Monster Energy’s like it's water. You’re sure it’s melted off his taste buds at this point.

“But you also like the vending machine cakes.” 

“It was good.” He defends. “But this is really good, trust me?”

“I wasn’t invited by B,” You glance over at the scowling Batman and glare back. Tim grabs your face, turning you to look back at him. You smile at him in a way that makes his stomach flutter and he clears his throat, dropping his hand. 

“Ugh! B, can he stay for dinner?” He asks, pressing his finger against his earpiece. 

“No.”

“He said yes,” He smiles and you struggle to still say no to him.

“I have to speak to the council about this—“ You gesture to your newly formed tail and ears. “Raincheck.”

Tim sighs but relents. 

“We’ll make your favorite next time; as a thank you.” He promises and you nod, waving before jogging up to a random door. The team watches as you pull out the keys and open the door, showing the headquarters of the council you work for. You wave again, your tail waving along before the door closes. 

“Better than Constantine,” Jason says as he looks at the ash on the ground. 

—

“That skirt does not go with that shirt,” Damian stops at Tim’s door, blinking at the oak door as Tim laughs. “I regret buying you VIP and custom makeup,” Now, Damian’s no idiot. He has friends and Jon, much to his chagrin, has gotten him into Roblox. So he knows very well that Tim is talking about Dress to Impress. 

“What? It looks cute!” Another voice defends, a voice that isn’t one he’s familiar with. He’d assumed Tim was talking to Kon, maybe Bart, or even himself. “You’re the one wearing a neon green fur hat when the theme is Victorian!” Carefully, he grabs onto the brass doorknob, pressing his other hand to the door and slowly turns it. 

“It’s camp,” Tim replies. He’s sitting on his bed with his legs crossed and laptop perched between them. Regrettably, he’s in an old band t-shirt and sweats; not company attire Damian would later remark. Across from him, sitting with their back to the door, Damian stares at the dangling sword earrings and then the tattered Eastern Youth shirt overtop a pair of leather pants. But his focus is on the tail swishing back and forth. 

“It’s ugly, just like your face,” You remark. Tim smiles, still looking down at his laptop, and moves his leg to kick you. You grab his ankle before he can and extend his leg, tossing your own over it. He shifts so both his legs are out and you naturally sit with your legs intertwined. 

Damian turns his nose up and leaves the room, the door softly locking behind him. 

“Pretty sure you weren’t saying that earlier,” Tim chides after the door had closed, watching as Damian’s footsteps leave from his door. 

“I did,” You hum, showing how you’d gotten first place and he’d gotten dead last. He rolls his eyes, leaves the game, and turns off your iPad. Next time he’ll just rig the game, clearly, the lobby didn’t understand his vision. 

“You should stay for dinner,” Your face contorts at the idea and you scoot closer to him until your ankles reach his back and his knees are at your ribs. “They’re not bad, not right now, at least.” He adds, messing with your studded belt. 

“I don’t like heroes, Tim,” You remind him. He frowns, eyes meeting your own. “And Bruce definitely will not welcome me after the curse,” Right, the whole demon curse. His eyes move to your tail that’s now wrapping around his left leg, the soft hairs brushing against his calf. While you’re not wrong, Bruce would have a heart attack if Tim was caught letting a demon (it's temporary, the council assured you) inside his house. 

“Fuck what Bruce has to say; I have my place! I run the company now, too,” He shrugs. 

“So why are we at the manor?” You tilt your head and he shrugs again. 

“Alfred offered to make my favorite for dinner because I haven’t visited since the whole demon thing.” You tut, leaning forward so your head rests on his chest. He looks at your awkwardly folded pose and pushes your legs. Getting the hint, you lift yourself and fold your legs underneath you. He lays his head on top of yours, using his phone behind your back. 

The two of you sit in silence until your legs go numb and you turn around, now watching as he scrolls through his socials. He shifts so one arm holds you close and locks his legs over yours while you hold his hand. 

Now, despite how it may look, you and Tim were not in a relationship. Nearly, you’ll both admit that much. But nothing that ever surpassed longing glances and touching that lasted far too long for the two of you to simply be friends. 

And that was for one simple reason.

Tim was a hero. 

You don’t hate heroes, simply a strong dislike towards them. For a multitude of reasons, enough for a twenty-page paper. Tim would know, he had you make one when you first rejected him. You don’t really trust them, all of them except for Tim. And maybe his strange friend Kon, but that’s about it. All of the rest can leave you the hell alone. 

Your phone buzzes and you spare it a glance; a call from your superior. 

“I gotta go,” You tell him but make no move to leave. He just hums, still scrolling on his phone. “There’s probably an attack and I’m needed.”

“That’s crazy,” He mutters, showing you a video of a cat lying down in an empty fishbowl. 

“And Alfred will probably come up soon,” The time is around when dinner is usually ready.

“Probably,” He agrees. Your phone starts ringing again and you stare at it. 

“I really should be going,” 

“You really shouldn’t.” He drops his phone to hold you with both arms.

“I’ll get in trouble,” You look up at him and he just blinks. “They’ll take my keys away.” He relents and lets you stand but you don’t move. He raises an eyebrow and you smile before flicking him with your tail and getting up. 

He spluttered at the hairs, wiping his mouth as you shoved your feet into your boots. 

“See you,” You wave before opening his bedroom door to your boss's room. He sees the woman sitting on the edge of her desk, dangling her phone. She sees him and you quickly shut the door. 

Flopping onto his back, Tim runs his hands down his face and stares at the ceiling. He rolls over and looks down at your iPad, deciding he’ll just keep it until you notice it’s gone.

—

“Still have an issue with me being a hero?” Tim asks as you’re cooking in his apartment. You’re making breakfast for dinner, considering he’d come back at three in the morning and you’d skipped breakfast in favor of dealing with some demons terrorizing school.

“Yes, Tim.” You reply, setting a third pancake onto the plate. He leans against your back, staring at the side of your face while making sure to be careful of your sharp ear. Your tail pulls him closer and he snickers. “The tail has nothing to do with me,” You grumble, side-glancing at him. 

“Even if I say pretty please?” He bats his long eyelashes, making sure that they tickle your face. 

“You’re making a very convincing argument,” You laugh, pushing his face away. With a small snicker, he pulls his face and adjusts his grip on you. Tim sighs into your shoulder and then steals a piece of bacon, narrowly avoiding the slap from the spatula.

“Can I just be the one hero you like?” He hops onto the counter, watching as you continue to cook. 

“You already are,” You watch from the corner of your eye as he flicks his hair out of his face, studying you. He watches you for another minute or two, offering up forks when it’s time to plate the food. He’s clearly thinking as he pours the cups of juice, smiling while he jumps back on the counter before he eventually speaks up. 

“Can I take you on a date, then?” He asks, eyes flickering from the last pancake to your face. Pausing mid-flip, you shrug. Taking a moment to think about it, Tim watches as your tail slowly moves side to side before it settles on the back of the couch.

“It would be faster if you just kissed me, if I’m being honest.” You chuckle and his eyebrows raise. 

“You’re telling me all of this could’ve been avoided with… a kiss?” He slowly asks and you nod, turning the fire off and then moving to be in front of him. He reaches for you, his fingers curling under your jaw as you stare up at him. Opening his legs, you sit between them and mess with the hair around his face. 

“I just wanted to see some initiative,” You hum and he rolls his eyes before crashing his lips into yours.

[mareastrorum]

Hello! I’ve been looking at your blog after Critical Role episodes for a couple of weeks now and I have to agree with you wholeheartedly about pretty much all of it. I wanted to ask you your opinion on the idea that a majority of us are calling Bells Hells the bad guys because all they’re doing is ‘wanting to dismantle the oppressive force that aims to destroy an entire established society of innocent people’. I’m having trouble understanding what oppressive force that is?

Thanks for the ask! There's two parts to this, so I'm going to address them separately.

First, there is no "oppressive force that aims to destroy an entire established society of innocent people." Like, the only group that came close to that in this campaign was the Weave Mind and the Imperium, which intended to take over Exandria in its entirety and subject the entire population to hivemind slavery--but Bell's Hells did little to oppose them. Vox Machina (backed up by an army) demolished the Imperium's main forces at the Exandrian base of the bloody bridge. The Mighty Nein killed the Weave Mind and then started mopping up their allies that remained on Ruidus. Bell's Hells did nothing to support that rebellion other than assist on a scouting/sabotage mission and then flee.

Otherwise, there is no force aiming to destroy society. Ludinus wanted Predathos out so it could eat the gods, and there was no intent about anything other than that. He did not care one way or the other about collateral damage. Predathos doesn't either, but it wants to eat, and we do not know what level of divinity is too small for it to prioritize. And let's be serious, unless a god flees and lures it away, there's no reason for Predathos not to look at a planet full of life and think, "Hmmm, it might not taste good, but I am so fucking hungry."

A good while ago, when the Hells had initially reached Vasselheim, I saw discussion of whether Vasselheim and other Exandrian forces intended to wipe out all Reilorans and other Ruidus-based species. I think Evoroa's plea and assistance made directly to the leadership of Vasselheim has already prevented that potential result. Of course, the Exandrians are working together as a collective of dozens of factions, and each of those has untold numbers of individuals working for them. It's possible some of them will insist on war anyway, but given the actions of the three campaign parties, I don't see that happening on an organized scale. Regardless, Bell's Hells aren't focusing on that right now, and nothing they could/would do with Predathos would affect that either.

The only other faction that comes close to that idea is the Betrayer Gods, but they don't care about society. They want genocide. They want to murder every single mortal in existence, and then torment their immortal souls for all eternity. I literally cannot overstate the disdain the Betrayers have for mortals. They are Exandrians' ultimate enemy. The Divine Gate is the only thing protecting mortals from the Betrayers, and it requires every god to unanimously agree to drop it. That is phenomenal protection. There's been no serious threat to it since its creation.

In particular, I want to highlight that "the gods" as a category of entity are not a united faction. The gods don't rule anything on Exandria--not even Vasselheim. That's a purely mortal project! Mortals decided to build a city dedicated to the gods, and given that it's filled with their followers, the gods have historically spent particular attention to protecting it. That makes perfect sense, and it doesn't mean the gods are in charge of it.

Obviously, there will be other factions across Exandria that could fit that bill, but Bell's Hells hasn't had to deal with them in this campaign. Like, chaotic evil factions exist, they're just not in this story right now.

Next, whether Bell's Hells are villains, bad guys, etc.

I've written up how I assess villains in my pinned post. That's my general approach to any type of story, whether it's interactive, written, oral, etc. It's a very broad overview of when is a villain an effective narrative device? I am rather harsh in my criticism of villains: if they didn't improve the story, they should not have been included at all.

We could cherrypick through the various episodes to come up with an argument that Bell's Hells are the bad guys, but my problem with them is that they aren't effective villains. A villain's primary purpose is to highlight a theme in the negative: what is the wrong thing to do in these circumstances, and why is that? The reason they aren't effective is that they don't have a motivating purpose.

Bell's Hells are a chaotic faction that consistently deviates from whatever is requested of them. They claim to be for the people, then denigrate and oppose every faction they've encountered. They claim to have changed their minds about some of the gods (the Matron and the Arch Heart in particular), then repeatedly ignore or contradict the plain statements told to them, but they still seek out the gods' instructions regardless. This carelessness or apathy makes it impossible to map a philosophy onto the PCs other than "I felt like doing it in the moment."

None of them have been able to articulate a reason that they chose this path. Maybe the players will come up with some hamfisted excuse next episode, but it's still going to be unsatisfying from a narrative viewpoint. This stream had hundreds of hours to show that and instead needs someone to say it in the last episode. It's terrible storytelling, and none of them could claim that it was impossible to see this confrontation coming. We've known it was coming since Ludinus successfully bridged Exandria and Ruidus. There was time, and it was not spent wisely.

Going beyond dialogue, there's no consistency to Bell's Hells's actions except the desire to kill Ludinus. That muddled any potential message that could be conveyed about them as villains in a story except "kill Ludinus in particular." We can't even say they oppose any existing hegemony because none has been established in Exandria. There's no racial, economic, social, religious, etc. group dominating the world. Again, as said above, the gods don't rule anything, and they're stuck behind the gate.

Any potential to build Bell's Hells into worthwhile villains was squandered. Everyone but Orym had an explicit, tailor-made opportunity to lean into their darker personality traits, and every one of them chickened out--except Ashton, who gave into his desire to be special and have power to lash out at people standing over him. Unfortunately, Ashton's attempt to absorb another shard of a primordial would have also broken the game on a D&D level, so that got reversed and reworked into a character moment that also had no lasting impact on his character arc. Ashton hasn't bothered exploring it since. That's really the core problem: every time the PCs had the option to pursue a villainous path, they ran the fuck in the opposite direction, then dithered about what to do.

Without conviction, villains are merely bullies. They're just here to be mean, stop other people from getting what they want, and jeer at others when they get their way. We saw that in this latest episode. There's nothing Bell's Hells wants. They don't even want to be involved. They're just doing it because they can't even commit to going home--because they're player characters in a D&D game, and the players didn't want to switch to new characters.

That makes for a terrible villain story. Like, once we see the final episode and all the PCs have had an opportunity to take action and speak on their own behalf, we'd be able to revisit this with more definitive statements. Unfortunately, I can't think of a single way this could go that would correct the flaws I've already listed. It's far too late to correct the characters' lack of direction to develop a coherent villain arc for any of Bell's Hells.

[mehiwilldoitlater]

please my dear author , please!!!!! I'm begging you, Give me satisfaction with your story, please😭❤️...

May i've a reaquest headcannon for, wife s/o x sun wukong,They both are always together and fight together, even die together 😭... Please my dear author, you are my only hope .

(btw, s/o is good at healing magic, she even fights using magic)

How funny and how ironic, Wukong thought, to be held in his last moments in the arms of the sword brother that once he had tò defeat in battle.

His breath reduced by a raspy whisper, his chest now covered in blood by the wound... eh, come to think of it, he didn't feel any pain now, just numbness.

His hears, then, grasped One of the many breaths there, one that, like him, was reaching their last moments. He could recognize that breath between thousands, and then he sensed a feeling of dread. He wanted to reach her. The bull sensed his desire and obliged.

In a pool of blood, a feminine body lay. Her chest covered in arrows, her once white hanfu now in a Splendid Crimson shade. The eyes of the monkey gleam from the sad view.

A bride, even in her last moments. His bride, his wife, his everything.

You were his, and he was yours, and so the sage wanted to be until the end.

The bull was able to lay him down next to you, a small moment of peace on the battlefield.

You two really did a lot together?

///

You were mere servants for one of the seven fairies, a body between many. You never asked for something more, you never asked to be different, and you never asked to be noticed by anyone. Too much trouble, you always thought.

But you were different. Despite your humble position, you were born with abilities that, even amongst many immortals, were quite rare. Healing powers, a sacred ability that just a few could learn but were born with? You were special, but you just hoped for a humble life. 

But even in the celestial realm, nothing can just stay the same.

You first saw him when he was ordered to the Jade Emperor. Hiding behind some officials and other servants, the first thing that caught you was his manners. He wasn't a bride; he was just treating the most important being in the world like some random people. You should be shocked, but... It's nice? You wondered what kind of person was the new keeper of the horses...

///

"Master Wukong Is Amazing!"

"Since he's the one who's taking care of the celestial steed, all of the beasts are in great shape!"

Wukong was always someone who loved the praise and the compliments, but something was quite off. It was true, he was the best keeper that the Celestial stables everything had, but he had noticed something a little strange.

Sometimes, maybe by accidents or by distraction of the owner, one of the horses came back injured or with some small wounds. He had always done his best to take care of them, of course, and the next day the same wound was soon gone. More than anyone, he was supposed to be happy or proud by this, but he knew something was playing a trick on him. Surely, another one would have believed that it was the same horse that had such an ability like that, or everything that stables themselves, but why then call for someone to take care of the horses if there was something like that?

One day, he finally knew the answer.

When the day was almost over and the Night Patrol deity started to prepare for his work, Wukong wanted to check on the horses and remembered that one of them seemed quite unwell after a bad day with its owner. 

When he reached the stables, he seemed quite pleased to find the door unlocked, especially since he knew that all of his helpers had left for the night. He noticed there the light of a small lantern, and there he decided to move. Taking the form of a fly, he started to buzz in the direction of the light, and what he saw left him pleased.

"Poor one, did they mistreat you, uh?"

Your voice seemed so kind and gentle; the horse was immediately putty in your hands. Sitting on an overturned bucket, you gently caressed its snout and Maine, coercing it to give you its injured leg.

"I know what it means; don't worry, I'll treat you right away."

And, under the incredulous eyes of the Great Sage, a dim light started to shine in your hand, and, by just caressing it, the wound was good and gone!

"There, all done!" You said happily, keepnon caressing the horse, "Now you look good as new!"

The Great Sage couldn't control himself; you had picked up his curiosity like nothing before! Like a bolt, he immediately took back his true form and started you and the horse.

"Easy horse, brother!" He esclaimed, calming the beast, "Do not scare the precious one!"

You feel a sense of panic. You were caught, red-handed, in the celestial stables tending the horses that weren't even your own duty, by the keeper himself. You kneel before him, your face in the dirt, hoping to appeal to his kindness.

"Forgive me, master! I didn't intend to do any harm! I just wanted to cure these poor creatures! Please don't report me! I beg you!"

He looked at you with quite the interest, bent down to touch your head, laughing a little.

"Come now, precious one! I'm not in need of this kind of guidance! I punish who's wrong me, not who does good!"

You raised your head a little, your forhead dry from the mud of the pavement.

"You...you won't?"

"Not as long as you're going to share with me that trick of yours, precious one!"

"My Lord, I'm not precious at all! I'm just a servant."

"Tell me your name; even if you'll be precious to me!"

"I'm Y/N, master; I work under the Seven Fairies, daighters of the Jade Emperor. And...my powers are just my powers; I was born with them."

"Oh, a servant?!" He seemed indignant by your statement, "How can it be?! Such powers are for gods and immortals! Not for servants and cleaners! They had made a mistake with your position!"

"Oh, no, master! I'm where I wanted to be! I do not care for my position; I just enjoy my life as it is."

He pondered, Little, what a strange little thing you were. Such amazing powers, and yet so humble?! So interesting, very much indeed! He circled you a few times, causing you to emit a few giggles, even if you tried to keep them in your mouth. 

"Say, do you like these horses?"

"Yes, master! Quite Indeed!"

"Then! Come to me every day at this same time! I want to know you better!"

///

And so you kept your promise. Every day, after your choirs, you were welcomed in his own palace, treated like an equal. Sometimes you've dined, sometimes you've just drunk tea, but every time talking with him seems so natural. You showed interest in his home, to the point that he wanted you to pay a visit there with him next time.

He loved having you around; you've never looked him down, always so modest and kind. You were truly a precious one to him! He never loses a chance to greate you, even in front of the other servants and celestials.

And so rumors started to spread. 

The Bimawen found a friend in the Seven Fairies servant. The girl likes to spend time with horses and monkeys, they said. Some even complained that you smelled of animals.

Once, one of the seven sisters even forced you to take a bath and tò not touch anything until you were completely cleaned. It was so humiliating.

But you decide not to tell anything to the Bimawen, afraid of some reaction. And yet, something still happened.

One incautious immortal had decided that he needed to provoke the monkey and reveal his true position in the heavens! You were sure he was aware of it. Instead, they decided not to inform him! He was furious! He destroyed the stables and fled away from Heaven.

He had one regret: leave you there alongside those foolish arrogants! But he could not force you, not someone like you.

So imagine his surprise when the youngest monkey proclaimed to have captured an immortal, only to come to him withbyour in their grasp!

"Y/n?!" He screamed, reaching you with a jump and taking you in a bone-crashing hug. "My precious! Why are you here?! Did you finally decide to come and green my children?!"

"Oh Wukong," you caressed his head. "The Celestial Palace is enraged! They want to capture you! They're sending an army here!"

He laughed, finally setting you down, caressing your delicate hand.

"Old Wukong is not afraid of them; I'll let them regret having provoked the Great Sage equal to Heaven!"

And while you wondered when the battle could begin, he showed you his kingdom. A land with no palaces, no rules, only swore brothers and sisters that believed in each other's strength and power. They were equal in each eye, and all of them were ready to fight for each other. It felt right...

Sun Wukong had shown you to everyone with pride, calling you his precious one, the one that can heal with her hands. And even if he loved to braga about you to everyone, he had always shown respect and never forced you around. He wanted to praise you like he should, but he wanted you happy.

It was the first time in his life.

///

"My precious... I wonder...do any of those morsels up there ever tried to court you before?" He lay on the ground, enjoying your scratch on his head.

"Not at all, my Lord. They never looked me at all, and since I know you, they avoided me."

"It feels me with pride then! That I'm the only one that had the chance and the right to court you properly!"

"You...courting me, my lord?" Your cheeks took a crimson shade, embarrassed but yet intrigued.

"But...why me? Of all the matches, why me?"

"Because you had made something that a few had done, you had intrigued me." His hand taking yours, covering them in kisses, "so say yes, bye mine forever. Let's live in peace!"

And so, with a kiss on his lips, you accepted.

///

He did keep his promise; he defeated the immortals that had been sent to capture him. He forced him to find a new strategy, giving him what he wanted!

And most definitely, he decided to have you have his own. His wife, his precious wife, was the only one that he really cared to have by his side.

You wanted to be more—not for everyone to acknowledge you, but for him. Rakshasi had you as her disciple. She taught you, and she was able to unlock your true potential. And he knew, and he loved you for that.

When you both returned to the Celestial Palace, he wanted people to greet you both, but your hopes weren't so high.

In their eyes, you were still a servant, and he was still just a monkey. That was something that they would never stop seeing.

But you learned that respect should be earned, not given, so you stopped being the respectful one. If someone offended you, you responded, well, know that now not only your own fury was feared, but the one of your husbands too.

///

"My love, this is wrong!" You tried to convince him, whispering between the peach trees. "We shouldn't! We should guard the immortal peaches! Not eating them!"

"AH!" He picked another one, giving it a huge bite. "I'm the Guardian! Why shouldn't I? And those knuckles head Will never noticed of a few have been eaten, my dear." 

He extended the same peach, his mischievous eyes tempting you.

"You and I... We deserved more, my love. Why deny it?"

Yes, why? The immortals were never Just with both of you, that was the right payment that he deserved. Your mouth became full of the peach pulp, and soon the lips of the monkey claimed your now immortal ones.

You desecrated even the same soul of that orchad.

And soon, you both were meant to desecrate more.

///

When he learned from your former masters, the Seven Fairies, that you weren't invited to the banquet of the mother of the west, he was furious.

You were at his side when the Seven Maiden started to mock him and yourself.

"A stone monkey and his mate to the royal banquet? How absurd!"

"He can come and make a dance for us; she can serve us for sure!"

Their laugh was what enraged him the most. How dare they mock you in front of him?! How dare they make funny of the Great Sage wife?!

When the maidens were immobilized by his spell, by the look on his face, it was clear that he planned nothing but troubles.

When the two of you came in the Great All, he put everyone to sleep and then started to drink and eat everything that his eyes could possibly lay on.

"Wukong, this...this is not necessary! We should stop!"

"Stop?!" He looked at you, throwing away a cup full of wine. "They made me do it! They've never been fair to us! I won't stop! I refuse! Come, my beloved, let's drink and wine at their own expense! Let's feast! And when we're full, let's bring the rest to the children!"

And so you did; you drank and drank wine with him, uncertain of this action. The emperor... he would be enraged... but he was right, they treat you both poorly... still...

And so you drank, trying to put down your worries in the alcohol, afraid of the future. You tried to put at rest the fear. And so, Cup After Cup, you fell asleep. You didn't remember all; only your spouse brought you something shining in your mouth, with a huge grin on his face.

When you woke up, you were both back to your mountain, and your fear was true.

///

"I BEG YOU!" your head on the ground, like the first day you both met, "ask forgiveness! Do as they say! Don't bring your people to war! Do not harm them! Please!"

His swore brothers Look at you with pity while he keeps on looking at the thundering skies. He couldn't turn back down.

"My precious one, I refuse to beg for Mercy! I'll make them see what happens when they play against me!"

Then his eyes became gentle only when he looked at you. His hand cupped your face, looking at your crying eyes. How he hates to see your gorgeus face crying.

"Go with Who can't fight my beloved; stay with them! The world of war is not meant for you."

"If you refuse to beg for Mercy," you held his hands against your trembling chest, "then I'll fight with you."

///

And so you did; you did fight alongside him and his generals against the celestial army... but it wasn't enough.

Not against Erlang Shen.

When he was taken away, you were held hostage in the palace, forced to see the tortures and every plan to kill him. But in the world, nothing has ever worked.

When they put him in the Lao Tsu Trigram furnace, you thought they had lost him. No matter how much they torment you, no matter what pain, the thought of the loss of your husband was too. much to bear, but he wasn't dead; no, he became stronger.

Nothing could have beat him, and, for a moment, you really thought that he could become the new emperor...

But he played against more capable opponents.

///

You could still Hear him moving, struggling against the rock, gnawing at the mud, trying to get out and break free from the golden sigyl.

"You're hurting yourself more..."

"WAIT until I break free!"

"You won't..."

"Are you doubting me?! "

You get, starting to walk away, your cold expression couldn't even manage to hold his fiery eyes longer than a second.

"Where are you going?! Stop!"

"I'm going to find our people. They fled in the fight. I'll do what I can."

"We'll do it when I'll break free! WAIT!"

When you turned around, you were the one holding an enraged expression. Your fists were so tight that your hands were white, and your lovely (y/c) eyes were of a deep red color.

"I wanted you to stop! To reconsider it! But you didn't listen! We could have been happy and serene, but you... you just wanted more."

He wanted to scream back, but he heard it—your hiccups, your sobs.

"No, please! Don't cry! I can hold everything, but seeing you cry breaks me deeper." He struggled again to reach you, to console you, but another strike from the sigyl stopped him. You didn't want to hear him again; you just wanted to leave, and so you started to walk away again, ignoring his screams.

"PLEASE! I'll Fix Everything! I'LL DO IT! PRECIOUS ONE, PLEASE!"

///

As the seasons change, you change for the worst. You became something else.

Your power, once maid to help and protect, became cold like ice. Your colors disappear, pure white, like a ghost you became. You even started to forget your name.

With no one to come back, your people were hunted by the Celestials, abandoned, and hated by everyone. With no place to go, you became a demon.

For 500 years you prey on mortals, other demons, and such, until fate acts again and a monk and three pilgrims cross your path.

And your heart longed for two things: your husband and the flash of the Tang monk.

But your story was short-lived, you guessed. 

///

Wukong held you in his arms, your fragile body against him. You were like a child, deep in slumber, while your old color started to come back.

He did what he could; he suffered enough, all for one thing: a second chance for you.

He sensed your struggle in your sleep, his footsteps echoing in the depths of Mount Huaguo. 

"Shhhh...sleep..."

Yor hands grasped his tunic, feeling the rasp material under your finger.

"Wukong, I had... a dream."

"A Dream? It was good?"

"No, it was a nightmare. I did so many bad things... I hurt you and someone you care for."

He stayed silent, only holding you closer to him. "It was Just a Dream, my love...nothing more."

He laid you down on the altar, covering you with some furr. He stayed there, admiring your tired expression.

"Sleep now; when I'll be back, you'll tell me all."

"Where are you going?"

"...finish a job...but I'll come back soon, so do not fret. Your husband would never abandon you."

You smiled, feeling his lips caressing your forhead. You felt safer now; he would come back soon.

And so he closed the door made of rock of your secluded prison. A sygil, one similar to the one that he once had, and a spell made to you sleep.

He didn't noticed, but he started to weep while he was closing It.

///

He did it; he finished the job. He became Buddha; he obtained a position so secure that he could grant you and himself freedom.

But he was never meant to be free, wasn't he?

He wanted you out of this conflict; he tried to protect you, but you were so stubborn, so eager to protect the husband that had pulled you back from those 500 years of misery...and instead there you were, at the brink of death.

How ironic and unkind...

He felt something—a warm touch to his chest. Your palm emitted that kind light; you tried to use your power on him one more time. He held your hand and stopped you.

You were so tired and you looked at him. He seemed so tired...and yet he smiled.

It's fine. That's enough. No more.

In your last moment, you couldn't help but cry, sobbing, with one consolation of dying at his side.

He wanted to hold you close to him, tell you that everything would be okay, and not be scared because he was there with you. He could only caress your face, trying to stay closer to you, avoiding more pain from the arrows.

And while the divine light was ready to engulf you both, he prayed one last time.

He prays that, if his plan works out, to meet you again, to fix the mistakes of the past, and to tell you how much he love you one more time.

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