#idk why he is somewhere where he could be affected

[wandixx]

I've seen a lot of different takes on Fear Toxin/other fear causing stuff (Yellow Lanterns Ring or something)(later just called Fear Toxin cause I'm lazy) but here is another one.

Danny seems like he isn't affected by Fear Toxin because his biggest fear is that his accident changed him so much he is no longer human, he can no longer truly experience human things.

So when he gets lungful of fear Toxin, he feels normal. He was antsy before, because c'mon, it's a rogue attack but it's not worse. Or so he thought. Because the anxiety lingers. Not enough to register as abnormal just this slight hypervigilance that makes you see things about yourself and your surroundings that you'd never realize otherwise. He'd realize he doesn't blink as often. He'd realize that if he doesn't consciously focus, he sometimes seems to not touch the ground. Forgets to breathe. He can't feel his own pulse at time. He'd realize people will miss him when he's walking down the street as if he was invisible (people just don't care about everyone they pass by). When he'd look straight into his reflection, he'd look slightly to the left. Not enough to actually name anything that was wrong but just stretched enough to fall on the wrong side of the uncanny valley. If he just caught his reflection in the peripheral vision, it'd be vaguely shadowy creature with glowing green eyes and white smoke instead of hair. Overall he'd be just wrong enough to be distinctly not human.

For everyone else, he'd be just a dude. Literally couldn't find more normal dude than this dude. Will pass as absolutely normal human unless someone is specifically looking for ecto-ghost stuff. Even most magic users wouldn't clock him at the glance

Tldr: Fear Toxin makes Danny perceive himself as some sort of eldritch horror but not enough to make him believe he'd actually be affected, while from outside perspective he's Just A Dude™

[moonstruckme]

Hey so i have a request and you can totally say no if this makes you uncomfortable but would you consider writing a poly marauders x reader where the readers depressed and can’t get anything done im asking cause I’ve been. Going through something and i thought id be okay by now but I’ve kinda regressed idk and now im depressed idk pls don’t write this if its to hard or upsetting

Thank you for your request lovely, I really hope things are getting easier for you or that they do soon <3

cw: depression

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 984 words

You realize the boys must be home when Remus crouches in front of you. You hadn’t heard the car come up the driveway, nor the door opening. You were too deep inside your own head. Or maybe you’d drifted off into another of your light, unsatisfying sleeps. 

“Hi.” He offers you a little smile, putting out his hand. You worm yours out from under your blanket to give it to him, and he rubs his thumb across your knuckles fondly. “How was your day, lovely?” 

“Fine,” you say. Your voice rasps a bit from disuse. 

“I’m opening the curtains,” James warns from somewhere behind you. “Here, take these.” 

Sirius’ grunt sounds surprised. “Since when is carrying in the groceries a relay sport?” he complains. 

True to James’ word, light floods the living room a moment later. It illuminates Remus’ face in front of you, letting you see the gentle concern in his eyes. His gaze moves up above your head just before strong hands grasp you by the shoulders. 

“I missed you,” says James, hugging downwards at you until he gives up and lets his body flop over the back of the couch, “so much, today.” 

You pet down the hair at his nape, love like a bubble in your chest that’s always on the brink of popping. You love the way James hugs; it’s like he really is trying to feel as close to you as he can be, with his face bent towards your neck and one hand splayed behind your heart. You let yourself meld to him. Remus starts collecting your little mess from the coffee table, taking things into the kitchen.

“It was only a few hours,” you say. 

James makes a jokey harrumphing sound. “A few hours too many.” He lets you go to plant a smacking kiss on your cheek. “If you could have one thing for dinner tonight, what would it be?” 

“I thought we agreed to stop playing that game,” says Sirius, coming back in to sit down on the armrest of the couch. He sees where you’re toying with James’ hair and takes a lock between his own fingers. “You need a haircut, Jamie.” 

“You’re one to talk,” James quips, though he leans into the touch, always more than happy to have his hair played with. “And we only agreed to stop playing with you, because your expectations were too high.” 

“They were not.” 

“Why would you think we’d be able to get what we needed for escargot at our corner shop?” 

“If you didn’t want to know what I actually wanted, you shouldn’t have asked.” 

“Anyway,” James turns back to you, “what would you have, lovie?” 

“And before you say,” says Sirius, “the correct answer is tomato basil soup with a cheese toastie.”

James sulks, thwarted, and you stroke your thumb over his nape consolingly. “That sounds really lovely,” you say earnestly. “Was I really supposed to guess that on my own, though?” 

“You might’ve,” he mumbles. “Anyway, I was thinking you could be my soup stirrer. If you’re up for the task.” 

It’s an odd feeling, affection and guilt intertwined so well you can’t fully tell which is which. You know James is making a point of asking you so that you might come to the kitchen, be among them for a bit instead of staying off in your own world, do a task that makes you feel productive even if it’s small. You appreciate that he does it, and you loathe yourself for making him feel the need to. You wish your boyfriends wouldn’t coddle you not because you don’t like it but because you like it too much. You don’t deserve it. 

“Hey.” Sirius’ voice draws you back out from inside your head again. It’s become such a frequent haunt you don’t always realize you’re going anymore. He’s studying you. “You okay?” 

You hum as Remus comes back in, sitting on the now clean coffee table. “Thanks for doing that,” you murmur. His eyebrows lift slightly when he realizes you’re talking to him. “Sorry I left a mess.” 

Remus tsks, reaching forward to brush a piece of hair from your forehead. “It wasn’t really a mess,” he says. “I don’t mind. Are you going to help us with dinner?” 

“Yeah.” It’s not so much a decision as a yielding, but James beams like you’ve made his day. It makes you want to cry. 

Sirius wraps an arm around your waist when you get up to go to the kitchen, squeezing the fat of your hip lovingly. “Think I’ll take up the duty of stirring the soup, too,” he says to you. “Seems like a two-person job.” 

“Probably, yeah.” You let yourself lean into his side. He takes your weight happily, mushing a kiss into your hair. “Sorry I’m so lame lately,” you tell him quietly. “You guys don’t need to coddle me so much.” 

“You’re not lame, who said that?” Sirius jostles you a little bit. When you don’t laugh, he changes his approach, leaning his head against yours. “We’re not coddling you, sweetheart. You’re just in a rut right now, yeah? And we’re meeting you where you’re at.” 

He makes it sound so simple, but your throat clogs with the true difficulty of it all. When you reply your voice is thick. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to get out.” 

“You will,” he promises surely. “I don’t know how long it might take, but it’ll happen. And if whatever we’re doing isn’t working for you, we can figure something else out, okay? We’re with you.” 

When James says it’s your time to stir, Sirius insists on standing behind you and holding your hand that’s holding the spoon. Remus rolls his eyes at the idea of it being a two-person job, but you don’t know. You think maybe it takes all four of you to make it work.

[verstappenf1lecccc]

Could you please write something with Fernando and you’re Ayrton Sennas daughter but you where only three when he died. Growing up you didn’t have much to do with Formula 1 until Alain took you to an Price ceremony in the early 2000s where you met an young Fernando you’re pretty sure there is still a picture somewhere. If someone would have told you you would end up marrying an F1 driver let alone that you would have a son you would have told them you’re crazy but the universe had other plans for you and so by the time Fernando finally retires you have a three year old which loves cars over everything with unruly curly hair and an crooked smile and as it is the last race you decide too take him with you too Abu Dhabi he deserves too see his Dad drive atleast once live and so he ends up sitting in the dark green Aston Martin grinning from ear too ear gripping the steering wheel before Fernando picks him up again you’re heart arches you love them so much without Fernando you probably wouldn’t have seen the positive side of everyone all the joy and celebrations and you’re thankful for that.❤️

Racing Through Timeline

this fic made me emotional idk why hope yalls enjoy it

Life has a strange way of unfolding, often in ways that are impossible to predict. You were just three years old when your father, the legendary Ayrton Senna, tragically passed away at Imola. That day, the racing world lost a giant, and so did you—a little girl who would never truly know the father whose name was spoken with reverence, whose legacy became a symbol of passion, talent, and greatness. Ayrton Senna wasn’t just a driver; he was a legend, a man who lived for the thrill of the race, and yet, for you, he was merely a memory—a faint echo in the stories your mother would tell, in the photos, the videos, and the occasional piece of memorabilia. Your father’s world was a place you could never fully grasp, and it wasn’t until later that you began to understand the depth of his impact on the sport and the hearts of those who followed him.

In those early years, Formula 1 felt like a foreign, distant world. The roaring engines, the bright lights, the high-speed cars racing across tracks—it all seemed so far removed from your small, quiet life. Your mother, though always gentle with you, would speak of your father in hushed tones, always reverent, always holding a certain sadness in her voice. She would tell you stories about his passion for racing—how he would approach the track like an artist, crafting perfect lines, how he could feel the rhythm of the car in a way no one else could. But to you, these were just stories, tales from a past you couldn’t truly touch, and as the years passed, the pain of losing him became something you could only feel in the gaps between your mother’s words and the quiet spaces in your life.

But life, as it does, sometimes finds a way to bring the past crashing back into the present. It was Alain Prost, your father’s fiercest rival, who became the person who helped bridge the gap between the man you never knew and the world of racing you would one day come to embrace. Alain wasn’t just a figure from your father’s past—he became a quiet protector, someone who, over the years, guided you through the complexities of your own grief. His affection for you was not loud or extravagant, but steady and unwavering, always there when you needed him. He never pushed you into the racing world, but he always made sure you knew the importance of your father’s legacy.

It was Alain who invited you to a Prize Ceremony in the early 2000s, a grand affair that would forever change the course of your life. You were still a teenager then, unsure of what you were stepping into, but Alain insisted you needed to witness the respect and admiration that your father had earned, to see for yourself the impact he had made on the sport. It was there, in that glittering, surreal world, that you first met Fernando Alonso.

He was young then, still climbing the ranks of Formula 1, but there was something magnetic about him. He spoke about racing with the same fire in his eyes that your father had, the same passion and drive that had defined your father’s career. It wasn’t just his talent that caught your attention; it was the energy he exuded when he talked about the sport. You could feel the same intensity, the same love for the track that you had heard about in your mother’s stories, and for the first time in years, you felt a connection to your father’s world. Fernando didn’t know it then, but his energy, his joy, his spirit, ignited something inside you—a spark that would soon become a fire.

As time passed, you lived your life, far removed from the high-speed, adrenaline-filled world of Formula 1. You followed your own dreams, built your own life, and found a quiet peace in the simplicity of it all. But life, as it often does, has a way of bringing you full circle. Fernando had risen to the top of the sport. He was no longer just a rising star but a champion, someone whose name was known by millions. And then, unexpectedly, your paths crossed again.

When you saw Fernando again, you were both older, different in ways you hadn’t expected. Yet, the connection between you was undeniable. He was no longer just a racer you admired from afar—he was someone who saw you for who you were, who understood the delicate balance between your father’s legacy and your desire to create a life of your own. Your shared passion for racing and the quiet bond between you grew into something far deeper than either of you anticipated. Over time, you found yourself drawn closer to Fernando, not just as a racer, but as a man who was grounded, steady, and full of life. And before you knew it, you had fallen in love with him—not just for his passion for the sport, but for his kindness, his love for life, and the way he made you feel alive in ways you hadn’t felt in years.

Fernando’s proposal was simple, yet profoundly meaningful. One quiet evening, you were sitting on the balcony of your home, the soft hum of the world outside a gentle backdrop. Fernando, ever thoughtful, looked at you with those same eyes that had first captured your attention years ago. He didn’t need grand gestures. There were no cameras, no grand stage—just the two of you. In that moment, he held out a small, simple ring and asked you to marry him. It wasn’t the fireworks of a big public proposal, but it was perfect. It was real, it was intimate, and it was everything you needed. Your heart soared as you realized that this life, the life you’d always dreamed of, was finally falling into place.

The years that followed were filled with quiet moments of joy and profound love. Despite his demanding career, Fernando was always there for you—his presence a steady rock in your life. When you were expecting your son, Fernando became even more attentive, staying by your side through every milestone of your pregnancy. The late-night conversations, the small touches, the way he would softly whisper to your belly, telling your unborn child how much he loved them—it was the kind of love that you had always imagined, but never truly believed you would experience.

When your son was born, it felt like the world had finally aligned. He was the perfect combination of both you and Fernando—a perfect little human, with eyes that shone with the same mischievous sparkle as his father’s. You would spend quiet afternoons watching Fernando hold him, cradling him in his arms as though he was the most precious thing in the world. Those soft moments—when Fernando would softly kiss your son’s forehead, or when he would lay next to you, both of you wrapped in the warmth of your family—were the kind of moments that made every sacrifice, every challenge, worthwhile.

Yet as time moved on, a new chapter began to loom on the horizon—Fernando’s last race. As the years passed, you had known this moment would eventually arrive. The talk of retirement had been subtle, but it was clear. Fernando had achieved everything he had set out to do. But even then, it wasn’t an easy decision. He had dedicated his life to the sport, and stepping away was not something he could do lightly. But then came the moment that changed everything: you kissed him, as you always did, before a race—your touch soft, your love palpable. It was just another pre-race ritual, another tender gesture between two people who had shared so much together. But as you pulled back from that kiss, something shifted in Fernando. A realization took root in him. He knew, at that moment, that his heart was ready to retire. He had made his mark, and now, he was ready to build the next chapter of his life with you and your son. That kiss, that moment, was the milestone that allowed him to finally walk away from the track he had loved so much.

When Fernando’s last race arrived, the emotions were overwhelming—not just for him, but for you too. As you stood in the stands, watching him in his final race, you couldn’t help but feel a strange mix of pride, sadness, and nostalgia. Every lap felt like a piece of his soul was being left behind on that track. You remembered your father’s legacy—how you had wished you could have been there for his last race. But now, you were witnessing Fernando’s final lap. There was something incredibly emotional about seeing him finish, knowing that this would be the last time you would see him race at the highest level.

You watched him cross the finish line, and it was as though time stood still. The roar of the crowd, the flashing lights, the cheers—it was all distant. All you could focus on was Fernando’s face, the quiet reflection in his eyes, the understanding that this was the end of one era and the beginning of another. You could feel your heart swell with both love and a deep sense of loss. You had witnessed something monumental, not just as his wife, but as someone who had walked alongside him through the highs and lows of his career.

As you held your son in your arms, the tears welled up. You thought of your father’s own last race and wished, just once, you could have been there to see it. But now, as you looked at your husband, your son nestled between the two of you, you realized that you had witnessed something even more precious—a man who had lived his dream, who had dedicated everything to the sport he loved, and who now stood beside his family, ready for the next chapter. You smiled through your tears, knowing that the legacy of racing would always be a part of your life, but that this was just the beginning of something even more beautiful. Fernando was no longer just a racer; he was your partner, the father of your child, and the man who would shape the future in ways that racing never could.

As the sun set on the horizon, casting a golden glow over the racetrack, you felt a sense of peace wash over you. You had always known that the world of racing was unpredictable, filled with highs and lows, victories and losses. But now, looking at Fernando, you realized that what truly mattered was not the wins or the trophies. It was the quiet moments like this, the ones spent together, the ones that would shape the family you were building.

Fernando gently kissed the top of your son’s head, his eyes soft with love. “He’s going to grow up knowing what it means to chase your dreams, just like his mom and dad,” he said, his voice steady but filled with emotion.

You nodded, feeling a swell of pride. “He’s already learning from the best,” you whispered.

As the three of you stood there, the world of racing slipping away in the background, you knew that this was only the beginning. The track may have been where Fernando had earned his name, but now it was at home, in your hearts, where the real legacy would live on.

And as your son grew, you hoped he would always carry the lessons of passion, perseverance, and love. You and Fernando would teach him to dream big, to face challenges head-on, and to never forget the importance of family. The racing world might have given Fernando his start, but it was his love for you and your son that would propel him forward in ways the racetrack never could. The future was unwritten, and together, you were ready to write it.

[mosaickiwi]

Home Away From

I love hopeless agony almost as much as tooth rotting fluff??

Post-kidnapping Angel adjusting (badly) to the new normal.

might do a part 2 where it gets even worse idk ← my last words before i get thrown out of the plane

Kidnapping, imprisonment, codependency, etc.

proceed with caution

Eyes straight forward, you had to keep yourself occupied fiddling with the edge of a couch cushion. Every single one had a few loose threads from how often you worried away at them. 

Twelve… thirteen… fourteen neatly aligned book spines on the lowest shelf behind the dark haired man kneeling in front of you. A full, hardcover collection of your favorite webcomic, each book signed and dedicated to you. Maybe you'd force yourself to read them all again. For the third time since your arrival.

"Angel."

It was hard to keep track of how long you'd been here—in this house far removed from Corland Bay, with everything you ever wanted in a forever home. All those wild, fantasy-ridden dreams you joked about with Ren, and then [REDACTED], were true now.

And yet your supposed fiancé carried you over the threshold of that forever home kicking and screaming. 

"Still not talking?"

His hand reached for yours, fingers gently lacing between your own before you eventually pulled away. You saw their real reaction in the corner of your vision. By now, you knew him as obsessively as he knew you—there wasn't much he could hide anymore. The pain in his blue eyes lingered for too long this time.

It hurt. You hated to see that look on his face. But you hated being trapped here so much more than that. Why couldn't he understand?

Realistically, a silent treatment would get you nowhere. A few hours had turned to days, then weeks, and he was still soft-spoken and doting towards you. There was hardly a difference in the man you proposed to, and the one that bolted the front door shut from the outside on the few occasions they left for supplies.

You were too used to domestic life, too docile compared to that first day—sometimes you'd lose yourself and forget you were a prisoner. All your old hobbies still occupied your days while he sat nearby, and it just felt natural to include the only person you ever saw. To call his name and read a passage from a book aloud for him to laugh, or casually scoot closer to him for warmth during a movie.

Those moments when you forgot felt like they could slot in between all your old memories with ease.

"I'm sorry, love. I only wanted t'keep you safe," he whispered.

His breath almost tickled your legs, followed by the feel of his forehead resting against them. The urge to brush a hand through their hair—an innocent gesture you did at least daily back home—hurt just as much to ignore.

Were it not for their words of apology, even now could've been another memory. Who could fault you for falling into habits of comfort with the one who lived for you, and you alone?

The silent treatment was the best you could do.

💜🖤💜🖤💜🖤

Tired and disoriented, you woke up alone in your bedroom. The pink haired plushie you normally cuddled had disappeared somewhere, probably tossed to a corner of the room in your fitful sleep. Your usual replacement for a space heater was nowhere to be found, either.

Had he stayed up late? You called their name. "Ren?"

A muted commotion in the hallway outside, then the door creaked open. "Angel?" your beloved hacker answered back cautiously.

"Are you coming to bed?"

There was no response for a long moment. But soon enough, his familiar footsteps sounded against the floor.

You sat up and pulled the blanket to the side for them. As he settled in, you cuddled close, resting one arm over their chest while your head laid in its rightful place atop his shoulder. You managed to lean up and find their lips for a quick kiss before closing your eyes.

Though you couldn't see his face, you imagined the blush that painted his cheeks at every piece of affection you gave. With the thought fresh in your mind, you drifted off.

💜🖤💜🖤💜🖤

Hours later you woke again, your rest this time far more peaceful in their embrace. A pitiful, lazy groan left you as you stretched, then opened your eyes to greet your partner.

[REDACTED] was silently looking down at you, propped up on one arm. 

You reached up to cup his cheek and smiled at him. He leaned into your touch like always, but their usual loving gaze was laced with hesitation. As if waiting for something. Anxious of what could bother him, your hand followed the line of his jaw down to their neck, past the tattooed heart of your name, and settled on a piece of jewelry. 

Was that correct? It felt off. A long moment passed as you fiddled with it, trying to figure out what was so out of place about that silver chain, until it hit you.

The golden ring was back on his necklace, instead of on your finger where it belonged. Where it used to belong.

Weeks, or maybe even months ago, when they kept you in a careful hold while locking the bedroom door behind them—you'd thrown that ring in his face the second he let you go. 

For all the scratches and bite marks you'd put on his arm, tearing at skin that was already long scarred, he hadn't shown a hint of worry. Not until they bent down to get the ring that hit their chest and clattered to the floor.

It was the same worried face you saw now.

Your hand stilled, and before you could even whisper the words you wanted to yell, he slipped from the bed to give you space. The door clicked shut behind them to trap you in with your thoughts.

How could you be so stupid? Weak? They didn't have to try at all to wear you down; you did it all on your own. He tore you away from friends and family, yet here you were, forgetting yourself to play house with him. Then you took it a step further and let him sleep in your bed.

Nails dug into the pillow under your head, but instead of throwing it you squeezed it tight to your chest. You bit your lip to hold back the tears, glaring down at the empty spot on your ring finger that had only now begun to match the skin around it.

Another foolish dream to pile with all the others.

As much as you wanted to hope they would see reason one day and bring you back home to make things right—a thought far past irrational by now—you had to mourn the life taken from you.

You knew them, you knew them. Always seeking your favor so quickly that any argument quelled before it had a chance to begin, but stubborn when he felt it necessary.

If the first answer was a no… the next one and the next one wouldn't change. You should've accepted it the second he locked the door.

Ren was the only person you'd ever see again.

[alcqraz]

★ summary — small little drabble of spending a lazy morning with ben

˖˙ ꔫ —★★★★ pairing: ben shelton x fem!reader ˖˙ ꔫ —★★★ content warnings. n/a ˖˙ ꔫ —★★ word count. 922.... ˖˙ ꔫ —★ genre. fluff.

★ authors note: for wes because her horny ass would not let me off the hook until i finished this. shout out to the tennis groupchat that i'm in that helped me out because they're all clinically insane about ben.

❛⠀⠀ requested by anon! idk who to tag

I feel like Ben would be the type of person who enjoys sleeping in. Not all the time, obviously, definitely not during tournaments, or the days leading up to tournaments- but those days where he can have you to himself, without the worry of his coach or team barging in at any given moment. Without the worry of the upcoming match, and the result that would unfold within in.

You'd wake up next to him, the little crack from the curtain that he forgot to close entirely assaulting your vision as the sun rises from the hills above. Grumbling to yourself of your boyfriends inability to close the curtains fully, because of course he wouldn't.

Ben, however, seems not to be disrupted from his slumber by the aggravating light that danced across the warm-lit room. He's off somewhere in la-la land, sleeping on his stomach, shirt discarded carelessly upon the floor. His head is tilted to the right- looking towards you, and for once he looks... peaceful. His eyes are fluttered shut, a soft smile or sorts stretched upon his lips.

Despite it being (technically) his fault as to why you were unable to fully sleep in, you can't help but to admire the view that had been placed in front of you. He always looked good, you were very much aware of that, but now- he looked cuter, adorable even. However, you were not to suffer alone at this time of morning. If you were awake, he damn sure as well should be too.

Slowly creeping upon him, your hands gently trace amongst the muscles that lined his toned back. Fingers caressing the warm skin from being under the covers for so long. He shifts in his sleep, mumbling something incomprehensible as the movement slowly jolts him awake, like soft waves rippling throughout a greater vast of ocean.

It takes a moment, Ben ostensibly slower and unhurried during the mornings where he had no actual duties to worry of. His eyes flutter open, dark eyes adjusting to the new found lighting of the luminous morning. His eyes are hazed with a sense of blur, mind confused for a beat of a second as he blinks slowly, pushing away the daze of being woken up.

You'd whisper to him- perhaps a good morning, or a soft hello that he loved to hear more than anything, your voice a seeking comfort he enjoyed having within his presence. It's only then does he recall the situation, that he finally, finally gets to fall asleep and wake up next to you. His lips curl into a stupid grin, eyes wrinkling as he does so. He's suddenly wide awake, or at least, more coherent than he was an instance ago.

He'd mumble a good morning, baby as he always did. Pivoting himself onto his back so he can get a better look of you, features tainted with a look that could only be described as pure affection. His fingers come up to brush against the side of your face, before laying upon the soft skin that laced your jaw. Ben pulls you in, pressing a soft kiss upon your lips, before leaning in for something more. He kisses all over, as he always did when he could have you all alone. Your lips, your forehead, the spot within your neck that made you squirm. He wanted you all, and he was going to have you.

But it wasn't how it would be of the many times before. Where the desire pooled in his lower stomach, reaching between his pants. It was not rushed nor full of lust, it was not a race for the finish line, but a need to worship you because fuck, how did he ever get so lucky?

His hands would trail all over, wherever he could get you, kissing you slowly whilst his fingers tangle into your hair, another resting upon your waist. It's deliberate and languid, breathing softly when he finally pulls away for a breath of air. Ben doesn't pull far away though, his lips just barely an inch away from yours. And god, he feels as if the wind has been knocked out of his lungs, the sight of you so beautiful and intoxicating. You're like a drug, an addicting one for that fact which he could never get over. He never wanted to get over.

He gently brushes a strand of hair from your face, eyes glazy as if he were looking at the center of the universe. Perhaps, you were his universe. He'd murmur, hushed words that were only for you, ones that no one else would ever get to know. Unable to leave his touch, you lean in once again, sensually yet delicately.

On the days like these, he finds it inexplicably hard to keep his hands off of you. Needing to keep you close, touching you at least in some sort of way. You'd tease him about it, of course, as anyone would, but in all honesty, it was nice to feel so wanted by someone.

And wanted, you were. Ben had it in him, knew all the ways he could make you feel like the only woman in the world, even during the most random of situations. He'd whisper to you, lips tracing just over your ear lobe, hair tickling across the sector of your face of how lucky he was to have you.

You can't help but to think that at the end of the day; you were the lucky one all along.

[intimidating-fettuccine]

AHH OKAY what if there was Yandere Jeff and Tony who had a darling that was also a yandere for them? idk if you've answered this before

I know you meant Toby but seeing Tony made me laugh very hard (but I also misspell his name like that lol). Giving you some toxic yandere boys with equally toxic partners today <3 I hope you enjoy, I was pretty hyped for this request

Jeff:

Yandere Jeff wouldn't know what to do with himself in this situation. He's incredibly emotionally unstable in general, but he's also inherently distrustful of you, so he can't tell if you actually mean the affections you're trying to give him, or if you're trying to manipulate him. This will in the beginning cause a LOT of problems on your end, as Jeff's anger issues are going to skyrocket, and his physical abuse and violence toward you is going to increase for a little bit because his twisted brain tries to convince him you're just trying to trick him. However, you sit there and take it, because you love him. You always assure him that it's okay, that he can take as much time as he needs to believe you, and you'll still love him all the same, after all, his violence is another expression of his love for you. Your words following the beatings you receive are the thing that finally starts to crack Jeff's disbelief that you could possibly love him back, and over time, he'll calm the fuck down a bit, and be much less aggressive toward you.

However, the clinginess that occurs from this will be the replacement. He needs you right beside him, 24/7, with every single ounce of your attention. You love him, don't you? You said you wanted to be with him, didn't you? Then that means your brain should be filled with only thoughts of him, just as his is filled with only thoughts of you. Of course, you obey him, though. Being showered in his attention and having him spend so much time with you is all you've ever wished for, and now you get to be by his side forever. The new downside to this is that if you ever decide you don't want to be by his side for any amount of time, the anger comes back even worse than before. Why would you need space? He's the only thing you need in life, so why don't you want him? Were you lying to him? Were you trying to trick him? You're back at square one, but all the same, you'll subserviently take it, because your beloved is giving you all of his attention. So long as you're good and stay by his side, every moment of every day forever, you'll be just fine, physically, at least. Emotionally, or mentally? Perhaps not, with your obsessions feeding into each other and making you worse, but at least you're in love.

Toby:

I feel like this could go one of two ways. If you become a yandere for Toby BEFORE he ends up locking you up somewhere, I feel like he'd actually be a much more tolerable yandere than I traditionally write him as. He's got the reassurance, from how clingy you are with him, how you're always checking in on him so obsessively, how you've got the same possessive look in your eyes that he has when he looks at you. In this instance, I don't think he'd feel the need to chain you up somewhere. You're already with him as often as you can be, begging to be by his side just as he begs to be by yours, so he feels secure. He could continue living in the mansion (although of course, everyone notices how codependent and toxic your relationship seems, even just from the outside where they don't even see everything), and be completely content to continue living "normally" with you. So long as you continue to have only eyes for him, and allow him to control pretty much every single aspect of your life willingly, he doesn't get too bad compared to someone like Jeff.

But then, there's the second way, and if you only become a yandere for him AFTER he locks you away, he will be far, far worse. By the time you're chained up where he hides you, he's already escalated to breaking your legs to prevent you from escaping and enjoying his love for biting into you and causing you physical pain and suffering. If you become a yandere for him during this, it's going to reinforce in his brain that he's doing the right thing. He might stop breaking your legs after a certain period of time, sure, but his other violent tendencies only increase. You like it, don't you? How he looks covered in your blood, the pain he forces you to feel, you enjoy it so much, don't you? Of course you do. You've become so conditioned into it that you don't even resist him anymore. You allow him to mark and ruin your body in any way that he wants to because he's just showing you how much he loves you. You love him too, so it's only fair you willfully accept anything he has to offer you, and you do so with no resistance. He's so overjoyed that you've finally learned to accept your place beneath him, and it only encourages the twisted, broken parts of his mind, but you don't really mind. After all, your mind is starting to look the exact same way, and it makes you both quite euphoric.

[bunniesanddeer]

I really really LOVE the Touch chapters with Alastor. You write it so well! Although you have a fic on touch now already I was wondering if I could request something similar?

Persoanlly I think I'd be a really affectionate and touchy person but I simply cannot initiate touch without knowing where to touch, how long, how much pressure and so on. And asking people before hand makes them really confused and tbh I hate having to explain myself and sound needy about it. Idk if it's just me having some weird thing going on.

Anyways, would you consider writing Al with a reader that just got to the hotel and is very straight forward with people about their fear of initiating physical contact during times where reader knows someone would appreciate a hug or pat or any kind of physical contact but reader can't give it them before clearing just how hey want the touch to be.

So Alastor notices that reader acts very affectionate in moments with people who initiate touch (cuddles with Angel on the couch, does Charlie's hair). But at the same time he notices that they shy away and sometimes flinch away when reader touches someone by accident (handing someone something and their hands brush, etc) and apologizes as if they had just burned them.

He goes to figure out why that is and kind of challenges reader to touch him (after him consenting of course) whenever because the struggle and fear amuses him plenty but somewhere deep down he wants them to grow comfortable and confident since that is how their personality is over all and it suits them way better than the cowardly insecure overthinking reader who is too scared to ask for a hug on an especially bad day, even when it could literally save their afterlife.

Just fluff and more physical affection and soft Alastor

You don't have to though! We have already been blessed with some amazing works by you

Would appreciate it to the moon and back if you would take this request (or add another part to your Touch chapters because I am a girl OBSSESSED and starved, hungry for more lol)

Thank you sooooo much for reading and I hope you have a lovely weekend!!!!! <3

Hi! I hope this is something like what you wanted? I had fun writing this. Sorry it took me a little while, haha.

Challenge

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Tags: Fluff, touch sensitive reader/Alastor, slightest tinge of angst

Word Count: 2,839

When you had come to the hotel, Alastor was sure you weren’t going to last long. You avoided eye-contact with others, and your hands constantly fidgeted. You shifted on your feet, and rocked back on your heels constantly. Even when standing in one place, you couldn’t seem to be still. You seemed shifty, and he was sure you would pull something, and he would have to remove you. Alas, he was wrong. You stuck around, even if your weird tendencies only got weirder.

In the several weeks you had been residing in the hotel, not once had you initiated contact with anyone, not that he had seen. Alastor was sure you didn’t like it, until he saw Angel pick you up like a stuffed animal, and make you cuddle with him while watching the television. You had melted into the embrace, nuzzling against the soft fur of Angel’s upper shoulders. So Alastor needed to keep watching, and come up with a new explanation for your behavior.

At some point, Charlie had begged to ‘play’ with your long hair, so the two of you ended up dragging everyone into the sitting room for an impromptu ‘spa’ day. Charlie sat behind you, you were nearly in her lap, braiding one section of hair, and Vaggie was painting your claws. Angel was brushing out Husker’s fur. Niffty and Sir Pentious were talking and looking at the make up laid out across the coffee table. Alastor merely watched, amused by the group's antics every once in a while. 

He watched the way your eyes fluttered when you were embraced by the girls, and the way you seemed so at ease. Nothing seemed particularly amiss. He wondered if you hadn’t been comfortable yet, and had nearly settled with that. That was, until Angel came home, nearly in tears, one day.

“Fuck!” Angel yelled, tossing his phone harshly. It was rare for Angel Dust to have such an outward burst of anger. He always put on a show of being satisfied with his work, even when he clearly wasn’t. When Angel had settled on one of the couches, his face collapsed into his hands. “I’m so fucking tired of Val…”

Angel mumbled to himself as you entered the lobby. You glanced at Angel, and then his shattered phone. You frowned, your soft features looking nearly angry, and then picked up his phone, and made your way to him. Alastor watched from the bar, interested to see how this interaction went.

“Hey, Angie. I uh, I got your phone,” you said quietly. You sat off to the side of the couch, looking out of place, and uncomfortable. 

Angel mumbled something back, and your frown grew more severe. “I uh,” your voice trailed off, and your eyes started darting around. “Do you - do you want, like, a hug? I don’t really know what you need right now, I’m sorry.”

Alastor watches as Angel turns his head and whispers something to you. He doesn’t seem confused, not like Alastor is. He is clearly missing something. His eyes narrow, and he watches as you crawl up on the couch and awkwardly settle yourself against Angel’s side. 

How bizarre! How could you possibly not know what he needed? You were a very empathetic person, always looking out for others, and you liked being held, clearly, so how would you lack this kind of knowledge.

Alastor decides to confront you about it, at a later time. He needed to know everything about this. Perhaps it would be useful!

The next day, Alastor decides to try and get you to touch him, and then go from there. (It had been a little while since he had decided to ‘wing’ something like this. How exciting! You weren’t a bore at all!) His best bet would be to invite you to assist him for the day, so he invites you to when you’re heading down the stairs that morning.

“Ah! Just the woman I was looking for! How are you this morning, dearest?” He settles his hand on the banister, near where yours is resting, and waits.

“Oh! Good morning Alastor. I’m doing okay. What is it you needed me for?” Your smile is gentle and your demeanor open, even if you can’t keep eye-contact. 

“I was wondering if you would like to assist me today? We haven’t had much ‘bonding’ time as you and the others! I was hoping to rectify that,” he responds. He keeps his normal flair and watches you giggle at him.

“Of course, Al. It’s not like I had much going on today.” You pull back from the banister and twist to look at him better. “What do you have in mind?”

Alastor merely nods, and starts leading you down to the kitchen. “I was thinking you could assist me with breakfast, and then we can do some minor paperwork! We’ll decide what to do after that.”

You happily agree, and trail after him, leaving just enough space so you can’t ump into him. 

“We are going to make french-toast, fried green tomatoes, and ham. Should be simple enough, dear!” He snaps, and the two of you are wearing aprons. You let out a surprised laugh, and smile up at him.

“I will never get over how cool that is!” 

He waves you off, and starts pulling things out of the cabinets. He hands each one to you, waiting for you to make contact. 

Then it happens.

You jerk your hand back so fast that the whisk he’d been handing to you falls to the floor with a clatter. Your whole body seems to shrink in on yourself, and your expression collapses.

“Oh. Oh, no. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.” You start rambling apologies, and it makes Alastor’s head cock to the side.

“Why are you sorry, dear?” His voice lilts with just the slightest amount of amusement, but you don’t seem to catch on to it. 

“I- I touched you! I’m sorry! I don’t know how to do it appropriately, and I’m sorry! You have more boundaries than the others and I just-” Your rambling starts to annoy him, just the slightest bit, and his eyes narrow.

“I would tell you, if I had a problem with it,” he starts. “You don’t normally have a problem. Why is it a problem now?”

You frown, harshly. It is the first time he has seen such a negative emotion on your face. (Something in him is unsettled at the sight. He ignores it, as he often does). “What do you mean? That’s not the same!”

Alastor is now genuinely confused. It is absolutely the same! How could it not be?

You seem to catch onto his confusion, and a small growl rips from your throat in frustration. “I’m okay with people touching me first, because that’s initiating contact, and they lead the whole time. It’s easier to understand what people want, and where it is okay to touch, based on how they feel, and how they are touching me. But, but when I do it first, it’s hard to know what’s okay! I don’t have someone to mimic, and it’s- it’s hard!” Your face contorts further, and you’re palpably angry. 

“All these social rules, and stuff can be so hard sometimes! It’s easier to just not do it! How can I hurt anyone if I don’t give myself the opportunity, you know?” You sigh, and drop your upper body on the kitchen island’s counter. “It sucks,” you say, your voice muffled by the counter.

Alastor feels a modicum of sympathy. You nearly have the exact opposite problem to him. You want to touch other, craving that closeness, but don’t know how to go about it. He would rather go without it, but knows exactly how to use touch on others, especially to get what he wants.

His mind whirls with thoughts of how pathetic you seem like this. You are normally so confident! Why let this silly worry prevent you from being the best you can be? His thoughts settle on a plan before he can really acknowledge it. 

“Alright then, dearest!” Alastor smacks the counter, drawing your attention. “I have an idea. A challenge, if you will. To help you get over this silly fear of yours, I challenge you to this; you must touch me every day, at least once. Each touch must be a different kind than the last, and it can’t be for the same reason.” Alastor tilts his head at you, waiting for you to take the bait.  “You are allowed to do it without asking, and it can be as big or small as you are comfortable with, but you need to do it. If you can do this, to the point where you are comfortable hugging the others without worrying about “hurting” them, then you win.”

Your head pops up from the counter, and you narrow your eyes at him. “What do I win?”

Alastor feels his grin widen. Yes, you would be fun to play with. “A small favor. Something simple. And confidence. It’s a shame that you are being held back by something so simple!”

You huff, but nod your head. “Fine. I touch you, once a day, unsolicited, and it’s gotta be different each time, or something like that. I win when I can hug everyone else without being touched first.”

“There’s my girl,” he says, watching your whole body stiffen in response. He laughs, and picks up the whisk from the floor. “Let’s continue with breakfast, yes?”

The first time you touch him is during a “movie night” that Charlie sets up the next day. She demanded Alastor participate, despite his well known hatred of television, and everything to do with that technology. You had silently approached him as the group set up pillows and blankets on the floor around the TV, and against the couches. The two of you watched idly, before you spoke up.

“Can I sit with you,” you asked softly. 

“Of course, dear! Good company might make this terrible idea more… palatable,” Alastor grumbled. You smile at him, and laugh a little. 

“Oh, the horror. Sitting with your friends, and relaxing,” you respond, tilting your head at him. His static surges for a moment, but he says nothing in response. You laugh again, although he’s not quite sure why.

When the group finally gets settled in for the movie, and the lights are turned off, he watches you shift about in your seat. Your eyes dart around the room, and your hands fidget. It takes a few minutes, the intro to the movie already going, for you to finally look at him. You scoot closer to him, more than halfway across the couch. You wait another moment, and Alastor’s eyes don’t move from your form. He just watches you fidget with amusement. Finally, you speak up, barely a whisper.

“Hey, can- can I lean on you?” You are so hesitant, and it makes his eyebrows furrow, just the slightest. 

“Of course, dear,” he whispers back, his static barely a murmur. Your body slackens, all the tension drawn out. 

“Oh, good,” you mumble, pressing your small form against his side. It takes a few moments, but then you are completely calm against him, head pressed into his arm, your hands against his waist, and knees curled up under you and tucked against his thigh. You mumble something about him being warm, and all Alastor can do is agree. 

You are so very warm, and it has him almost anxious. He isn’t sure what about, as the room is calm, and the silly animated picture-show is easily ignored. You are so very warm, and he can feel each breath your body breathes in. He can nearly hear the soft pound of your heartbeat, even over the picture-show. His nose twitches at your scent. He will have to take a far-too hot bath later to remove it. It’s fine, though. It’s all part of the game. 

Alastor ignores that you’ve fallen asleep on him. It’s for the best.

The next day, you offer him a “fist-bump”, which he doesn’t understand. You laugh, and explain the gesture, and show him how it looks.

“You do it when you did something cool, or when you’re having fun with your friends.” You smile at him and constantly gesture with your hands while you talk. It keeps his attention quite easily. “Ah, here, let’s see if you understand. What was the last cool thing you did? It can be whatever.”

Alastor thinks over the last few days exploits, and shrugs. “I made a sinner cry by merely looking at him, this morning.” 

You go stock still before bursting out laughing. “Really? Oh my gosh. Seriously, fist-bump,” and you offer your knuckles. Alastor hesitantly returns the gesture, knocking your hands together. However clumsily it was done, it makes your smile wider. “Nice! Yeah, that’s exactly how you do it!”

If he tries the gesture on the others later on, he never tells you. Charlie got a kick out if, though. He refuses to tell her who told him about it. 

One day, you’re assisting Niffty cleaning, but can’t reach a spot way too high for either of you to get. Neither of you can find a ladder, and Alastor is watching with a far too delighted smile. When you spot him, you smile mischievously.

“Alastoorrrrr,” You call, your eyes narrowing playfully. “Come here. Please.”

He strides over, not letting his hesitance show. “What can I do for you, my dear?”

“Can I get up on your shoulders? I need to be able to reach that spot with the duster.” You point up at where you need to dust. He looks over at it, and realizes you are definitely not getting  up there without help.

Alastor cocks his head at you, thinking over the logistics, and then nods. He kneels down, and feels you pull yourself onto his back, propping each leg over his shoulders. When you are still, hands gently around his neck, he stands up straight. He feels you wobble and then balance with a laugh. Your hands let go of him. He feels each breath and laugh and words from you gently vibrate his head with how close the two of you are. 

“I’m so tall! Hahah! This is great! I wish I was always this tall, haha!” You keep laughing, and readjust your duster, pointing at your destination. “Onwards, my steed!”

Alastor rolls his eyes at your antics, but obliges, standing closer to where you need to be. Niffty is squealing, and it’s making you laugh harder. Alastor joins in at some point, and then the three of you are running around the first floor of the hotel, terrorizing the others with your hijinks.

Alastor thinks, privately, that you make him laugh over the little things, something that he hasn’t done in a while. He isn’t sure how to feel about it.

It’s several weeks after the challenge had been initiated, that he finds you hiding in a side-closet. Alastor isn’t sure how he knew you would be there, but the discovery throws him. You’re crying. Nearly bawling your eyes out, and you look uncomfortable with the way your small body is curled into a tight ball, surrounded by cleaning supplies. 

“Oh, hey, Al,” you say, your voice rough. “How’d you find me?”

“Just needed to follow the sound of despair, apparently, my dear,” he responds without a thought. He nearly winces when his words process, and he shakes his head. “I’m not sure, dear. Whatever are you doing in there?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Something upset me, but I can’t remember what.” Your voice trails off, and you look at where you have situated yourself. You huff, and pull yourself out with a grunt.

You dust off your knees, and the back of your pants, frowning. “Sorry you had to see that, haha.” You try to muster a smile, but Alastor sees right through it. “Right.”

Alastor simply watches as you shut the closet door, and try and calm yourself down. 

“Gosh, I feel dumb.” You frown at the ground, and sigh. “Alright. Can I have a hug?”

Alastor’s eyebrows raise. Oh. You were finally ready to hug him. How interesting. 

“Of course, dear.” He opens his arms, not even bothering to check for others seeing the interaction. You rub your face, and then step between his arms. You wrap yourself around him, loose at first, and then you embrace him hard. His arms fall around you, and he pulls you in close. His head settles on top of yours. 

You are still so warm, and you smell wonderful; something comforting, something familiar. Your heart thrums against your ribs, and he can feel it pounding. His ears twitch at every soft sound. 

This is nice. Although there is still time, part of him mourns the day you are ready to win his challenge. He supposes he can enjoy each little bit of connection the two of you have, until then. 

Taglist: @numetalnerd2007 @girl-nahh-two Remember, you can be added to my taglist by replying to the tagged post on my page!

[astrophileous]

DEREK TALKING TO LITTLE BUG WAS ADORABLE I'M NOT DOING WELL (i might just be touch starved idk)

also derek's definitely suuuper overprotective like even more when bug is pregnant, it's Bad

You're touch-starved, I'm touch-starved, we're all touch-starved boo. Isn't that why we're here fantasizing about fictional men :")

but omg yeah yeah yeah I see your vision. I think bcs of what happened to her, the doctor would recommend Extra Maternity Care for Bug. like Derek would've already been bad if it was a normal pregnancy, but as soon as he heard the word "risky" from the doctor's mouth, it was as if all sense flew out of the window

btw this turned out to be more emotional than I planned KJKJAASSJ I'M SO SORRY I GOT CARRIED AWAY

Love Bugs Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist

"Just what the hell do you think you're doing?"

Derek's voice boomed in the middle of the HQ bullpen, attracting the attentions of fellow agents nearby including those of your team who were still in the office.

You rotated your head left and right, searching for the object of Derek's sudden vexation, only to realize a few seconds later that his eyes had been staring straight at you.

"You're talking to me?"

Instead of answering, Derek marched the few feet of distance separating you from him. "What are you doing, Bug?"

You raised your eyebrows in genuine confusion. "Um, strapping my gun to its holster?"

"You're not going out there."

"Excuse me?"

It had been a few weeks since the whole fiasco of your abduction. After a few days of staying in the hospital and a couple more weeks of bedrest, your doctor had finally cleared you back for duty. You were beginning to get antsy about going back to work, but your doctor's note was clear: you needed to take it easy once you were back, considering that the rough start to your pregnancy meant more risks looming overhead.

It wasn't an ideal situation, but for the sake of your baby, you swallowed the hard pill without a fight. Hotch couldn't be more understanding when you explained what was going on to him. He promised you that you could sit out any strenuous and potentially harming activities during the course of any investigation that might have fallen on the BAU's lap. Your fellow teammates were just as considerate, vowing to cover your ass at any instance you might need.

All and all, everyone around you was pretty clear-headed about the whole situation.

Except for Derek.

Since your last doctor visit, Derek had been driving you nuts with his overprotective streak. It was adorable, at first. The fact that he was extremely worried something might happen to you and the baby that he kept refusing to leave your side even when you were only stepping out to grab the mail or pay for takeout. But then, it got worse.

While his overprotectiveness seemed to have infiltrated every aspect of your life, it previously never affected your job at any capacity. Until now. You were seething internally over the fact that Derek had chosen to do this--to speak to you like this--at your place of work, where your coworkers could listen in to every word exchanged between the two of you.

Not wanting to cause a scene, you took a deep breath to press down the frustration, before your leveled voice spoke, "It's just a routine questioning, Derek. I'll be fine."

"You're not going out on the field, Bug."

"Derek." His name sounded like a threat through your teeth. "I'm not going out there to see a suspect, or to insert myself in a dangerous situation. Emily and I are just going to take a quick drive down to Woodbridge to interview the victim's family. Nothing is going to happen."

"Yeah, Morgan," Emily's voice chimed in from somewhere to your left. "It's gonna be fine. It's just routine questioning. I'm sure we can ma--"

Emily stopped talking and threw her hands in surrender once she noticed the daggers in Derek's eyes. You watched as she scurried off, as far away from the two of you as possible.

"You promised you'll take it easy," Derek said.

"I am taking it easy! I told you, it's just a normal questioning!"

Your own anger was threatening to burst by this point. Before one or the two of you could say something further--something that would warrant a lengthy call from the HR department--Derek tugged you towards the vacant pantry in the corner. Once inside, he closed the door behind him to shut out the rest of the floor from your private conversation.

"Do you realize how insane you've been acting?" Your voice dripped with anger. "I know you're worried, I get it. I appreciate it. But jeez, Derek, you aren't letting me breathe here. I can't do anything without you lurking around my fucking neck!"

The last echo of your voice dissipated into thin air, and yet, Derek still seemed to be rooted in the same spot he had been standing on since the two of you entered this pantry. He pinched the bridge of his nose for a second before that intense gaze was back to lighting fire on your skin.

"Do you know you were dead?"

"What?"

"In that basement. You were dead when I found you."

The frown between your eyebrows cleared once you realized Derek was talking about the abduction.

He had been refusing to talk about that ever since you came back home.

"I couldn't find a pulse when I got to you. I was the one who did the chest compressions before the paramedics arrived. I saw the heart monitor, Bug. You flatlined." Derek took a large step forward. "You were dead, and I held you in my arms. So forgive me if you think I'm being crazy with all of this, but the sight of you not breathing isn't exactly something I wanna see twice in my life."

The weight of Derek's admission settled heavily in the center of the room. Little by little, the ice that had hardened inside your chest was starting to melt. You looked deeper into Derek's unrelenting gaze, realizing that beneath the irrational protectiveness actually lay a justifiable fear he was trying to hide.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that, Derek," you offered sincerely. "But you can't keep me on a leash just because you're scared of hypothetical scenarios. The past is just that: the past. I'm safe now. Me and the baby are safe and we're here with you."

Derek closed his eyes and sighed. "I just don't want to lose you."

"And you won't. But you will drive me away if you keep this up," you told him. "Tell you what, I'll sit this one out for now. Just don't expect much from me for next time, yeah?"

"Thank you," Derek breathed out in relief. He closed the few feet of distance between the two of you in two long strides before securing you in his arms, pressing a grateful kiss to your hairline. "Thank you."

"Remember, this is a two-way street, Mister," you said as you looked straight into his eyes. "I'm expecting compromises to be made."

Derek flashed you a charming grin before answering, "Yes, ma'am."

When he pulled you in for a kiss, it was as if every remaining frustration in your bones dissolved into thin air.

The next few weeks managed to transpire in a mutual compromise. You tried to appease Derek's mind by choosing your responsibilities accordingly, while Derek tried reining in his protective instinct, even if miserably.

Still, even with the intensity lessened, sometimes Derek's antics were just too outrageous to excuse.

"Derek, you know this is absolute crazy, right?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Derek shrugged before adjusting the hold he had around your body.

It was the day of the earthquake drill at Quantico. Just thirty minutes prior, everyone in the building had been directed to evacuate from the emergency exit in a single file. Though it did explain the reason why you found yourself stuck in the middle of a barely moving line on the staircase, it didn't, however, explain the reason why you found yourself being carried in Derek's arms, bridal style.

"This is completely ridiculous," you grumbled once the line started moving again. "Everyone is staring."

"That's just 'cause you're pretty, Bug."

A few steps down, you could see JJ and Spencer stealing glances towards where you and Derek were standing. Your pleading eyes caught JJ's at one point, but the blonde woman only raised her thumbs up before the moving line made her disappear from view.

"You do know I'm still able to support myself on my own two feet, right?"

"Of course I do, Bug," Derek replied. "But why would you have to when I'm strong enough to carry you?"

Derek's answer made you groan in annoyance. A series of laughter from above compelled you to look up at the source, seeing two women whispering among themselves while openly pointing at your direction. You buried your face in the column of Derek's neck to escape their scrutiny, feeling the embarrassment traveled up your neck in a flaming red heat.

You were so never going to live this down.

[wake-me-up-inside-imagines]

Hello !!!! Could you write something about Yan!Charlie, please ? Maybe something about another powerful mafia leader falling in love with Charlie's love, or maybe about his love trying to escape ? Idk anything about my husband :'(

You're an amazing writer ! Keep up the amazing work !

Thank you, and sure thing! I got a similar request from another anon (specifically what Charlie would do if his darling tried to escape and another mafia leader found out and kidnapped them), so I'm gonna combine your escape request with theirs, I hope you don't mind!

Yandere! Charlie when his darling escapes and is kidnapped

Gn! reader

Warnings: Yandere character, typical mafia violence, kidnapping, murder, non-graphic abuse towards reader (not done by Charlie, dw), suicidal ideation, implied planned suicide attempt, blood, stalking, guns.

Banner credit goes to @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

When Charlie finds out you've escaped, his is pissed. Where did you go?! How could you have possibly bypassed all the security measures he put in place specifically to keep you safe and in the house?! Why would you want to escape when he's done nothing but shown you love and affection?! How could you do this to him?!

And then the self loathing kicks in. He must have done something, right? You wouldn't have gone through all the effort of escaping his high security home if he hadn't done something wrong, right? So what was it? Did he scare you? Were you afraid of being with someone with such a risky, dangerous job? Did the prospect of what he does to others terrify you to the point where you had to escape? Did you think he would hurt you, or kill you, or anything like that? Was living with him, being married to him, really all that bad?

without a second to spare, Charlie sends out every trained tracker at his disposal to find you, threatening to gut them as slowly as possible if they return without you. He knows you can't have gone far, there's only so much a distance you can cover on foot, and besides, how are you supposed to do anything without money? He has control over your previous bank account, and you certainly don't have any access to his, so how are you going to go anywhere? Still, he sends out a couple guys to search a farther, larger area, just in case a hitchhiker picked you up, or someone took pity on you and gave you enough money to use public transportation.

While his underlings are doing that, he's scanning every inch of the house in hopes of finding out how you escaped. Not a single inch of the house is left unturned, he will find out how you left, and he will make sure that you can never repeat that escape route again. Any and all weaknesses his security has are fixed within the day, insuring that once you're safely home, you'll never be able to bypass his cameras again.

He's a ball of rage and sadness for however long it takes to get you back. He's blaming you, he's blaming himself, he's blaming his employees, he's blaming the world, he's blaming anything with a pulse. His emotions flip like a switch, sometimes he's violently angry, but other moments he's horribly depressed. If he wasn't so focused on getting you back, he would have spent all his time in your bed, unable to move in the wake of his overwhelming emotions. He needs you back, he needs you back NOW.

He can feel himself inching closer towards the brink of insanity each hour you're away. He's constantly checking for updates on your whereabouts, growing increasingly unstable when each check in results in absolutely no new information being gained. His threats get more and more deranged with each failure to find you, his mind running through all the worst case scenarios he can think of. You couldn't be dead, could you? No, no, they would have known for sure if that were the case. Did you go to the police? No, you weren't that stupid. You knew he had insiders in the local department, it would have been runaway suicide to go to them. But if you weren't dead, or hidden away somewhere, than where could you possibly be?

Several days pass by, and there's still no sign of you anywhere. Charlie himself spends all day personally trying to track you himself, and still, there's no sign of you. Charlie's hysteria only gets worse, significantly so, to the point where he's seriously considering ending it all if he can't find you in the next couple of days. Without you, he has no reason to live. Life had no meaning. You were the shining light in the long, dark tunnel that was his life, and without that light, he has no reason to go on. His job brings him no pleasure, nor do his riches. He has no friends, no family, and no way to escape his position. Everything he did was for you, and now you're gone. He can't go on without you, he won't, if he can't have you then he won't have anything, please, he needs to find you before he loses it, he NEEDS-

Charlie was quite literally only a couple of seconds away from grabbing the gun strapped to his waist and blowing his brains out when they find you. Or well...They find what happened to you.

To Charlie's dismay, you aren't with the men who found out where you could be. He demands an explanation as to why they showed their faces without you in tow, but grows incredibly quiet when the people in front of him report that you've been kidnapped by a rival mafia leader. No wonder you had been hard to find. There was another organization covering your tracks, hiding you away from Charlie for their own personal benefit.

Charlie learns a lot of new things that day. He learns that unfortunately, one of the rival mafia's men had slipped through the cracks of his defences and become a spy for his rival, reporting back to the other leader whenever necessary. And unfortunately, because of how well known you are amongst Charlie's members, it didn't take long for the spy to figure out who you were.

He found out that as soon as word of your escape got out, the other organization immediately started hunting for you, planning to capture you and extort your connection with Charlie for money and power.

He found out that the organization found you, and now, you were with them, tied up somewhere in an undisclosed location. The only reason they knew you had been captured in the first place is because Charlie has his own spy within the rival mafia, and a pretty high ranking one at that.

Charlie is beyond furious when he finds out where you are. How dare his rival kidnap you and use you! How dare he put you in such danger! And how dare that spy!

He's so beyond angry that he can't even formulate words for several minutes, running his hand over his face and pacing around the room frantically, trying to think up a plan. When he's finally able to speak again, he orders half the men present to find that rival spy and bring him here, and the other half to find their own personal spy and tell him to figure out where you are and who is with you as soon as possible. Now that he knows where you are, he’s wasting no time in getting you back. He won’t let you suffer in the hands of his rival, he swears it.

Before he can get his report back though…he gets a message.

It’s a video of you, tied down to a rickety old chair in some unknown building. Your eyes are covered, but Charlie doesn’t need to see them to know how utterly terrified you are. You’re shaking, as much as your restraints allow you to at least, your normally untouched skin dark with bruises. There’s a guard on either side of you, guns in hand, and as the recording goes on, you’re quickly pulled out of frame, replaced by the big man himself.

Demands are made, but Charlie isn’t listening. All he can think about is you, you and your bruised, trembling body. Despite all the anger he harbors towards your escape, he's overwhelmed with fear and sadness. You've been hurt and bound, left helpless at the hands of his rival. The knowledge that you could be fatally injured or at least seriously wounded is not lost on him. He needs to figure out how to get you back, he needs to devise a plan to save you, he-

It doesn’t take long for him to get a report from his personal spy. This person is someone who his rival trusts after all, someone who’s been worming his way up to the top for years, all under the guise of a loyal right hand man. It was child’s play for him to figure out where you were being kept, even being bestowed the honor to guard you, a decision that Charlie would take full advantage of.

The second Charlie gets the report, he’s preparing for war. He’s not leaving anything up to chance. He knows he’s dealing with someone with a significant amount of power, so he’s getting the most skilled, deadly, dangerous people under his command to accompany him in bringing you home. He won't risk your safety any more than he has to, as much as he wants to tear the building apart and murder anyone in his sight, his main priority is getting you out of there in back home safely. Everything else can come after.

As soon as everyone's armed and ready, they're heading out to save you. Charlie makes sure to keep everyone as undercover as possible in case his rival becomes alert to their plan, only revealing themselves when they get the building you're being kept in. By the time Charlie's spy lets him and his crew in, it's too late for anyone to do anything.

Once in the building, Charlie makes no effort in hiding his presence. He's too pissed to care. He's shooting at any and every living thing that isn't one of his own men, taking down every and any goon who stands in his way. The rival mafia's forces can try to take him down, but chances are they'll be dead before they can get to him, and even if they aren't, a few bullet wounds won't stop Charlie. He's too high off of anger and adrenaline to care. All he can focus on is getting to you.

Charlie and his group travel through each and every room together, too cautious to let anyone stray on their own. Some of Charlie's employee's try to convince him to go back to the car and wait for them, that he's too hurt to carry on but Charlie brushes them off, snapping that he's not leaving until he finds you. He'll gladly bleed out right then and there if it means you'll come home.

Eventually, pretty much every goon hiding in the building is eliminated, minus the ones that are presumably guarding you. A couple of Charlie's men have fallen with them, but Charlie doesn't really care. Their lives were a means to an end, and hopefully, that end would result in your safe return. All they have to do now is find where they're keeping you.

The spy brings Charlie to the room where you're presumably being held, and without hesitation, Charlie kicks down the door, drawing his gun and aiming at anyone who isn't you. There are two guards beside your still-bound form, but within seconds they're laying dead on the floor, gunshot wounds going straight through their heads. Charlie can feel his heart hurting as he watches you flinch with every gun shot, but he reminds himself that this is all necessary to get you back, however scary it may be for you.

As soon as the guards are dead, Charlie's rushing towards you, fumbling with your restraints with shaky fingers. He gets increasingly frustrated when he can't undo them on his own, the blood loss from his bullet wounds beginning to get to him. His employees have to help him out, cutting you free and removing the blindfold that's been covering your eyes for who knows how long.

The second you're free, Charlie's grabbing onto you, bringing you into the most aggressive hug you've probably ever received. He won't let you go for what feels like forever, simply holding you to him, rocking your bodies back and forth while he soaks up your warmth. He's hurt, he's hurt badly, but right now, his priority is you, and reassuring you that your safe now, you're ok. He's not gonna let you go.

It's not until his employees surround him and you, urging him to leave, that he breaks away from you, but even then it's not by much. He's got one hand in yours, and one hand on his gun, refusing to let his guard down, even though he's successfully retrieved you. He would have carried you out of there, but with the injuries he's obtained, it's probably not a good idea. Still, he's determined to protect you, to keep you safe from anyone else that may be lurking in the building. Unfortunately, it appears the rival mafia leader managed to escape the building before Charlie got to him, but that's ok. Charlie can deal with him later. Right now, his priority is you.

The group only comes across a couple more people from the rival mafi, but they're swiftly dealt with, leaving a clear and quick path out of the building and back to the cars. The second you get into Charlie's car, the driver's speeding off, driving as quick as he can to the nearest hospital to get you and Charlie treated. All the while, Charlie's gripping onto you, refusing to let you go. He can tell you're still scared, and he's determined to remedy that the best he can.

It takes a lot of convincing to get Charlie to release you long enough to get treated. He's on the verge of passing out from blood loss, but all he cares about is you, and your safety. He doesn't trust anyone to be with you, but he finally allows himself to be pulled away when a nurse reminds him that it'll be hard to treat you with someone clinging onto your body the way he is, and that letting you go is what's best for your recovery. On his way out, he weakly promises you that he'll be back as soon as he can, and that he'll make sure you get the best care imaginable. His eyes are on you until he can no longer see you, and even then he's still looking in your direction, desperate for any visible trace of you.

It takes a couple hours for Charlie to get stitched up fully, but as soon as he does, he's rushing as quick as he's allowed to to be back at your side. Thankfully your injuries weren't as severe as his, only bruises and a broken bone or two, so you're already healed up by the time Charlie makes his way back to you. He's attaching himself right back to your side the second he sees you, he needs your touch more than anything after the long, horrible days filled with nothing but your absence.

Once he's sure everything's ok with both of you, Charlie takes you home. He doesn't yell at you, he doesn't scold you, he doesn't even say anything about your escape, but despite how cautious he's trying to be, you still look utterly terrified of him. He hadn't fully understood why you would be so scared of him before, not really, because despite his job, he had never, and would never, hurt you in any way, and he thought you knew that. But after all this...

He gets it. He gets it in a way he never considered before, and that understanding causes the most intense wave of guilt to envelop him. Yeah, he's never hurt you before, but he could. He's fully capable of it, and he knows you know he is. He's probably no different from his rival, not in your eyes, because despite their rivalry, they essentially do the exact same thing. Hell, Charlie's done disturbingly similar things to others in comparison to what the rival mafia did to you. He's done worse than what they've done to you. It feels different to him because he knows he would never do anything to you, but you don't know that. In your mind, you could end up just like any other person Charlie deals with at any moment. You didn't try to escape because Charlie had done something wrong towards you, you tried to escape because he could do something towards you. Sure, he had been nothing but kind to you, but how were you supposed to trust him? After all he had done, and was doing, even while you were with him, had he really given you a reason to?

Charlie won't punish you for your escape attempt. He was already unlikely to do so anyway, since he figured that would just make you more scared of him, but now, he's even more determined to earn your trust. Besides, you got kidnapped and injured by an extremely dangerous individual, which must have been a horrifying experience to live though. In his book, that kind of fear was punishment enough. He just hopes you'll be less likely to try and escape in the future, now that your first attempt went so wrong.

As much as it pains him to do so, Charlie gives you your space. For a while, at least. He fears that forcing you to interact with him will only cause your terror of him to grow, and that's the last thing he wants, especially after all you've gone through. He does reassure you that he's not upset with you, and you have no reason to fear him, but he understands that you aren't going to trust him right away simply because he told you you should. It's going to take time to gain your love and trust, and he's determined to do it right this time.

He won't try to rush anything anymore. He's gonna go at your pace, because at the end of the day, if that's what gets him your love, than it'll be worth it.

Oh, and uh... as for that traitorous spy, and his rival for that matter, well... don't worry about it. He's got a plan for them. One he'd rather you not get involved in.

Don't worry about it. Everything's going to be fine, he swears it.

I hope you enjoyed!

[katamaricule]

What is dmbj? I've googled it but idk if it's one of those 'I love it and recommend it' shows or a 'I love it - pls never watch it <3' kinda show yk lol

Is there an answer somewhere in the middle? Because that's where it should go.

DMBJ is a franchise based on a set of novels by an author we'll call NPSS. These are mostly first-person tales narrated by a spoiled little dipshit named Wu Xie, as he and his friends go on tomb-raiding adventures, encounter supernatural obstacles, and learn about all the ways snakes don't work. The series has several giant holes in it, as NPSS tends to get bored and wander off mid-story. Several dramas and movies have tried to adapt various pieces of this gap-ridden, wholly unresolved saga, to varying degrees of success.

So to answer your question: There are installments of DMBJ that are a hoot that you should watch, and then there are installments of DMBJ that are also a hoot but you shouldn't watch before you have an affection for the franchise as a whole, and then there are installments of DMBJ that you should not watch even if you are a fan of the franchise because they are just not worth your time.

The problem is, not everybody agrees on what goes in which category. But if you're interested and want to give it a go, these are my personal takes on what's what, in chronological order of events as they happen in the series:

The Mystic Nine

Good starting place: Yeah, actually!

Requires prior knowledge: Nope

Actual ending: No resolution whatsoever

Wu Xie: He's not in this one

Best part: Charming characters you love or love to hate

Warning: Very cheaply produced, with cuts that render significant parts of the story incoherent

Worth watching: Yes, if you're willing to accept the jankiness

The Lost Tomb

Good starting place: Weirdly, no, considering that it's the first series they made

Requires prior knowledge: Not really

Actual ending: Oh, heavens no

Wu Xie: Cardboard twerp, kinda cute

Best part: There's ... some antics, I guess?

Warning: Makes some bizarre additions, condenses several books, just ... isn't very good

Worth watching: Not especially

The Lost Tomb 2

Good starting place: You could do worse

Requires prior knowledge: Some, but who knows if it helps?

Actual ending: Ha ha ha you're funny

Wu Xie: Breathtaking idiot twink street-parking a Maserati

Best part: Wu Xie and Pangzi are in love

Warning: Interminable bronze tree plotline, incomprehensible timeline especially at the ending

Worth watching: Sure, but bring a book for the long stretches

The Lost Tomb 2: Explore With the Note

Good starting place: It doesn't matter, because you're not going to watch this one

Requires prior knowledge: It can't save you

Actual ending: Nothing of the sort

Wu Xie: Shove that whiny nerd in a locker

Best part: There is no best part

Warning: Don't do this to yourself

Worth watching: What do you think

Ultimate Note

Good starting place: It seems like no at first, but it actually is!

Requires prior knowledge: It helps, but you can get by without it

Actual ending: Complete cliffhanger

Wu Xie: Precious muffin

Best part: Everyone is so cute, also heihua

Warning: Tonally way goofier than the other series

Worth watching: Yes! This one's so fun

Tomb of the Sea/Sand Sea

Good starting place: If you like things on Hard Mode

Requires prior knowledge: The main character doesn't have any, so why should you?

Actual ending: It thinks it does, but it's stupid and slapdash and leaves a million loose ends

Wu Xie: Mafia widow (also he's not the main character)

Best part: Seeing from the outside how fucked-up the whole Tomb Raiding Industrial Complex is

Warning: A hot mess, but occasionally a beautiful one

Worth watching: Yes, but maybe save it for later

Reunion: The Sound of the Providence

Good starting place: Shockingly, yes

Requires prior knowledge: No, though it recontextualizes everything once you know more

Actual ending: Yes! Holy shit! We got an ending here!

Wu Xie: Consumptive angel with a gun

Best part: Some truly impressive performances from Actual Actors, Wu Xie and Pangzi are married

Warning: Honestly, just watch this one first so you don't know what you're missing, because once you do, you can't unsee it

Worth watching: Definitely

I hope that ... helps? Or at least doesn't make your confusion worse?

[sasoriis]

The final chapter of MHA was bittersweet, hopeful, but with enough realism to remind us that life can still be mundane, underwhelming, painful. Honestly, this was a pleasant surprise to me as someone who saw this series as excessively optimistic at times. I wasn't expecting the epilogue chapters to go the way they did, and while I don't think the execution was perfect, I appreciate Hori for making the effort.

To get my complaints out of the way, I wish there had been more time for Deku and Bakugou to talk - about the apology, about Bakugou's death, about how their feelings about one another had evolved over the course of the series, or at the very least had more internal monologues. Deku in particular felt so...distant? Bakugou is my favorite character, so I'm probably the most hung up over him. He went through this incredibly traumatic experience, but we never see if and how this affected him (certainly, it had to have). At the same time, he's the type to keep his most personal thoughts and feelings private, he's also less about verbal expression and more about actions, so I can understand Hori's choice to an extent...but idk, that's where the internal monologue could have really helped.

Similarly, it's quintessential Bakugou (presumably) to secretly save the money for Deku's suit for such a long time. IMO that level of gift-giving plays right into his strengths and was an incredibly significant gesture given what we know about him as a character. Perhaps he doesn't have the words, but he can show, very clearly, to Deku that he can finally return the same admiration and deep affection that Deku always held for him. It isn't explicitly canon, but it's enough for me, it's more than I was expecting, actually.

Initially, Deku's ending made me sad. And I think it still does to some extent. He saved the world, and the world, for the most part, moved on. But that's reality. For many IRL helping professions, this is the routine - doctor's save lives, therapists successfully intervene in crises, the work day ends with lives irreversibly change, and then we wake up the next day to start it all over again. I've seen complaints that Deku lost his dream, didn't have a "becoming Hokage" type of moment, etc, but that was never why he was trying to be a hero in the first place. It's upsetting, of course, but he continues to help people despite the lack of quirk, the popularity, because he genuinely cares about humanity.

And in the end, we see that returned to him through those around him, we see his dreams return. He and his image of victory will get to compete together for the rest of their lives. I'll be 90 years old, and those panels of Bakugou reaching his hand out to Deku will exist somewhere, in a library, on someone's bookshelf or coffee table. And that's while it isn't perfect, it's an ending I can get behind.

[gingerjunhan]

boyfriend headcannons - han hyeongjun

☆彡 EEEEEEKK it’s Jun Han time! :D 🩷

word count: 690 | pronouns used: none | genre: fluff, established relationship | cws: YouTube like is safe!!, all caps, (Hyeongjun’s) insecurities mentioned, eating mentioned, I love him, not proofread, lmk if I missed something

← previous member | next member →

obviously, I have a lot to say

here we go

first things first, Hyeongjun shows you how he loves you instead of telling you

there was some radio interview they did one time where the other members said he doesn’t say “I love you much”

so he makes sure to physically show his appreciation for you

what’s that? you were stressed from your workload? Hyeongjun made you dinner and cleaned up your place while you were out

you’re feeling nervous about a big job interview? he got you flowers to wish you good luck

stuff like that

I also feel like someone somewhere said that Hyeongjun is really good with dates?

idk maybe I’m gaslighting myself into thinking that

but he never never forgets anything!

birthdays, anniversaries, important events- he’s there

I also think a lot about the one Knock Down Debate that they did where Hyeongjun yelled at the others because they never pick up their phones when he calls them

so hey, at least he’s good at communication in that aspect

I don’t think Hyeongjun is one for pet names

I literally cannot picture him calling someone a pet name, but I could easily be wrong

if he did I feel like they would be simple

“honey”

“love”

“sweetie”

short and sweet stuff

he gets flustered easily if you call him something though!

I feel like it would be really easy to fluster him

STOOOPP imagine Hyeongjun meeting your pets

forget about your family- let this man meet your cat

okay but fr this man is sweating buckets meeting your family

he’s afraid that they would think he’s too quiet or too boring :(

but once they get to know him and once he warms up to them that’s obviously not true!

I mean, come on, look at the way that man can shred on the guitar. there is not a boring bone in his body

he’s a kiss on the cheek typa guy

no big fancy gestures

just something cute, simple, and sweet

he actually doesn’t strike me as a big gesture guy at all?

no wait let me explain

let me cook

not big on PDA, not the best with words, and he wouldn’t feel like his acts of kindness are very big

like, he let you hold on to kkito while he was away for a few days so you wouldn’t miss him- why are you crying?

ugh I wanna squeeze him :(

he will come to you with any sort of problem no matter how big or how small

he trusts you completely

he would literally be your friend first and your boyfriend second

Hyeongjun strikes me as the type to not need affection much, but when he does he’s a little nervous to ask

“Jun, what’s wrong?”

“I need a hug.” :(

you almost don’t hear him but y’all are so close that you can figure it out

you can basically read his mind

I feel like a relationship with Hyeongjun would go slow, and that’s okay!

why mess with perfection 😉

no need to rush first kisses or first I love yous

you’re just having fun together!

HE MAKES A PLAYLIST OF SONGS THAT REMIND HIM OF YOU 😭😭😭😭

“This song played in the restaurant during our first date.”

“This song was stuck in my head right before you kissed me for the first time.”

“This song was-“ STOP IT I can’t do this anymore

ALWAYS makes sure you’re taking care of yourself

making sure you eat meals and get enough rest

he’s so open minded!

I feel like he has strong opinions, but he’s chill with most things?

those two things literally cancel out but whatever

he buys clothes that he also thinks you would like in case you want to steal them 😼

pays very close attention to detail!

no new haircut or nail color goes unnoticed!

he draws little pictures of you in his sketchbook all the time :(

loving Hyeongjun is gentle, calm, and fun- like sitting in the grass on a sunny day

no pressure, no rush, just you two having fun being together 🩷

god I love him so much

taglist: @dazzlingligth , @mini-mews , @mxlly143 , @somethingaboutcheese , comment to be added!⁎⁺˳✧༚

[felassan]

hi! first of all, love your blog, everything is so organized and there's so much info out there about everything and you having this blog makes it easier to find.

so there's something that idk if i saw on this blog or if i made up in my head and maybe you could help? I remember seeing something somewhere about how the devs or at least david gaider didn't understand why so many sided with the mages. do you know anything about that or did I made that up completely in my head?

hello! ◕‿◕ tysm for the nice comment about my blog. I'm happy that it can be helpful!!

rest of post under cut for length.

if you think you may have read it here, could you be thinking of one or some of these quotes from [this] post series? those posts are some notes I made of things which David Gaider said (pls keep that context in mind when reading the below) during some Twitch streams some years ago. as far as I know the original streamed videos are no longer available.

"The experience of a mage in the world isn’t represented or conveyed very well to the player when the player is a mage. The experience of the player when they’re playing a mage or have a mage in their party doesn’t really match up with how the world lore tells them how dangerous mages can be - for example, how they can lose control and so on, we never really have an example of a PC mage struggling with being taken over by a demon. This was originally supposed to be a subplot in DA2 for mage Hawkes, in one of the last cuts. In Act 2, mage Hawke was originally slowly being tricked by a demon in their head that they thought was real, only to realize at the last minute. Mouse the Pride demon in the mage Origin is the only time in the entire series that they really ever properly demonstrated how demons can fuck with [PC] mages. Also, PC templars were originally supposed to have a permanent lyrium addiction that they needed to ‘feed’, but this was scrapped as the system designers weren’t keen on it and felt that it was essentially handicapping the player."

"They managed to keep the Tranquil in. There was a while there where they were going to be cut. At the same time, DG regrets that they couldn’t solve the making of the player more aware of how mages are dangerous, thing. Players could make a cogent argument like “they’re not that dangerous, look at me [mage PC]” and the writers were like “well… yeah, that is fair”. It was a case of showing one thing and the player experience of it being another. DG feels that this made the templars come off worse than they are. DG feels that they are being massively unfair and too extreme in their approach to the problem, but the problem itself is a real thing. He feels that there’s some merit/truth in the argument that mages are oppressed, but he looks at it more like an issue like gun control rather than as treatment of oppressed people, saying that we don’t have an example in real life of oppressed people who can explode into demons and cast fireballs and so on."

"Going into DA2, the team had a long discussion of the themes of the game, the whole ‘security versus freedom’ argument. “Let’s try to understand the motivations of people who do things wrong. Is it possible to feel sympathy for somebody who might otherwise be labelled a terrorist? Is it possible to understand why templars might view the mages with fear?” As a whole, DA tries to encompass villains that have motives we can understand a little better. DG feels that Corypheus isn’t one of these. He’s less a villain and more an antagonist or plot device. There are certain things that they did wrong with the implementation of Cory in the game. Originally in DAI he attacked Skyhold as well as Haven. Cutting the Skyhold attack for example made him seem like less of a threat."

"There are certain spells/abilities in D&D that can make a GM’s life frustrating, such as teleportation, telling the future, resurrection. The fact that death is not permanent, for instance, should be a huge thing that affects society and how the people in it view death. This is why they were thinking stuff like “If every low-level mage in the setting had a skill like ‘Charm Person’, what would non-mages make of that?”"

or maybe something from [here], or an [old post] [random example] David Gaider made on the original official BioWare Forum? 🤔 [the forum was archived by fans on Fextralife] or could you be thinking of something that he said on his old Tumblr? [this] and [this] are links to some Tumblr blogs which archived some of the original Tumblr. it might be worth browsing through those/searching them for "mages" and suchlike in case it turns anything up. :>

apologies if nothing here is pinging as familiar. :<

[crowwithacomputer]

I don't know if this has been discussed before but I'm pretty sure when Viktor saves young Jayce from the blizzard he's not teleporting him to another location, he's traveling through time faster until the blizzard stops. It's the same spot, but at a different moment. Like Ekko does (but backwards).

I was going to write a fic and got curious about the Acceleration rune. It makes you go faster, and I saw some people discussing that Ekko played around with it so it could make him go back in time (that is the anomaly itself ig). So mage Viktor played around with it so it could make them go forward in time (idk if it's the actual purpose of the rune or the rune just makes you go faster in general and both Ekko and Viktor enhanced it).

With that said, where did Jayce and Viktor go? Because I'm pretty sure they're not dead. Yeah, I'm trying to cope but it seems to me they didn't just... randomly vanish. It would be pretty lazy writing and, in general, it wouldn't make any sense. At first I thought they traveled somewhere else, but maybe they have traveled forward in time and are in the same exact place. But why would that work? Why, going forward in time, help break the time loop?

I just saw the scene when Ekko threw the machine at Viktor. It was glitching. Since it is configured to go back in time, they may have gone back. Or, it may have not affected them and the rune just worked normally. Does that mean they went forward? We don't know.

I know it looks like Viktor is teleporting them. Then why do I think like this?

The have fallen on a spot with snow

In the scene there's a moment when Viktor is holding the Earth, going really fast forward.

Now that I see it, it's pretty obvious. But well, there it is. I'm just stating the question, with this we can discuss and make fanfics about it. I, personally, will continue to make the fanfic about them being teleported through space.

Because also, do we know if this rune also works through space travel, not just time? Another question that I would like to discuss and know people's thoughts on. Since it's Acceleration, maybe you can go faster in space. Maybe this is the technology that is used at the Hexgates.

Ekko travels through time and that lets him travel through space to go back. So we can guess Jayce and Viktor did the same forwards, but where could they have gone? I'm guessing the farther they went, the farther they went forward in time. This is a rudimentary theory, didn't think about it too much.

That's it for today's analysis, let me know what you guys think!!

[fourstarsoutofnine]

Where are we going?

Impromptu joke ficlet for the beautiful wonderful @beyondtheglowingstars because it’s funny. This is… half modern? Idk. Whatever. It’s a joke fic it doesn’t have to make sense.

The Smith was in a bind. He was head over heels for you but had no idea where he wanted to take you out on a date. He didn’t even know how to ask you. So, he split. He was going to spread out across town to find ideas then reconvene and talk it over.

The colors had been in town for hours, occasionally bumping into one another, but after getting what he deemed enough ideas, Green messaged the others.

~in a group chat somewhere~

G:okay guys I got some ideas. The little restaurant by the lake is really nice, and pretty popular but I’m not sure because I don’t want to have to wait super long to get a spot. There’s also the idea of walking through the woods a ways and going to that really nice clearing we like. We could do a picnic there. I was also thinking about bringing them something, maybe we weld a necklace. What do you guys think?

B:👍

G:blue how many times have we been over this, you can’t just send a thumbs up to everything, I need actual genuine help.

V:lol

G:vio that is NOT helpful either.

R:☹️guys cmon… I’ll help. I think the picnic is a great idea, we could make little daisy chains :). And the necklace is a great idea.

G:THANK YOU Red. Goddesses…. Okay. Go time. Let’s meet back at the forge and we’ll merge and get to work.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The colors met back at the forge and the smith merged again. He got to work on making the little necklace for you. It wasn’t perfect by any means, as he didn’t specialize in jewelry… but it came from the heart. He hoped you’d cherish it. With sooty hands and hair sticking to his face from sweat, he couldn’t wait any longer. Couldn’t even stop to make sure he looked nice. He rushed over to your house and knocked on the door. His heart pounded in his ears while he waited on you to answer.

“Hello..?” You looked down at him with a confused face, but smiled when you realized who it was. “Hi, Smithy. What’s up? Everything okay..?”

“Yeah.. uhm—I, uh….” He handed you a sooty towel. “There’s something in there… it’s for you…”

You looked at it confusedly and unfolded the towel, revealing the welded necklace. You smiled. “Oh, wow, Link. You made this..?”

“Yeah, I uh-…I know it’s kind of bad. I don’t make jewelry, I make weapons—but um… yeah I wanted to make you something and….” He took a pause, taking a breath to ready himself. “I wanted to ask if you might want to join me for a picnic or something tonight… I know a really nice clearing not far from here…”

“I’d love to.” You smiled. You didn’t understand why he was so worried. Your affection for him was very clear—or in your eyes it was, anyway.

“Really??” He lit up. He huffed a surprised laugh. “Okay! Yeah..! Great! I’ll uh—go get ready. And get the things.. I’ll meet you back here later!” He said and took off. You laughed and waved.

“See you soon, sweetheart..” this would be fun…

[turtle-ly]

So a lot of monkeys died. And wukong crossed a lot of monkey names from diyu book. Are there a bunch of monkeys in the white void like baal and aym

Thank you for the ask! This is gonna be long lmao, to answer this question we need to be clear on some things:

Wukong crossed out his own name, mac's name, and some monkeys names from the scrolls of death, effectively made their souls no longer tethered to diyu's alert system for collecting when they die. Instead their souls got tied to wukong as their new "death king"

When people die, their souls get separated from their bodies. To be resurrected, they theoretically need both the soul and the body to merge in order to interact with things in the mortal realm/earth

Wukong's prison (the moutain) is not in any of the pre-existing realms. It's actually its own pocket dimension. idk if i made it clear in the fic but i had this info in the inspiration post. Which means the "gate" or barrier between wukong's realm and the other realms is much, much tighter compared to the celestial's or diyu's and earth. You can only transfer matters to it through established connections, say, like the chains channeling the energy of the containment seals from the mortal realm that the camel ridge trio and dbk is holding.

Does this mean they can travel to wukong's prison? not quite, like i say, the gate is Very small, and you cant just waltz in knowing there's a hole to it. humans cant travel to the celestial realm or diyu even if the connections are stronger yknow?

Now, here's another gate to wukong: the shadows. Shadow exists in that moutain, even in another realm, so theoretically if you were to travel in the shadow realm, you might find a gateway leading to the shadows in wukong's prison. But finding that gateway is a problem, squeezing yourself through that gateway is a whole other can of worms

When erlang shen burnt down the mountain, he didnt use just any fire, but the Furnace's Fire, the one capable of melting down immortality or say, souls. All the mortal and "immortal" monkeys who were caught in that fire got erased, the fire is the magical equivalent of white phosphorus and shit. So there were nothing to attempt merging or resurrecting those monkes :(

Of course, there were a few monkeys that werent burnt by Laozi's fire, even though they still died by Heaven's weapons. Their souls got separated, no way to merge with their decaying bodies on their own, but they cant find the way to wukong's realm either because they cant access the shadow realm. So yes, there are ghost monkes on FFM now, wandering souls forever feeling the urge to go somewhere yet they dont even know why or how :((( even if they are brought to the shadow realm and somehow get to wukong, they are still ghosts, unable to carry their mortal bodies thru the gate

So how did mac get in? well here's where i go apeshit with my hc: mac isnt actually soul-solid??? in my shadowpee births hc post i implied that mac was born from the shadows of earth convened. Shadows are not alive, are they? he's pure magic gained sentience. That explains how he could get to wukong's realm the way water leak through the cracks on walls, he has no body once he died, his form bleeding shadows and returning to the earth as dbk described in chapter 5

Wukong, on the other hand, was born from life magic and the blessings of the world. There was so much life energy in his components that even though he's technically a rock, he has a heart and is mortal at birth. shadowpee were so close to each other that mac's magic was affected to a degree that he grew a heart too :))) its part of his magic core separated, a mimic placed in front of the real thing. when he died it turned back to pure shadow, erlang's weapon piercing both his "heart" and his magic core

Sowwy for going off on a tangent about souls system but i got too excited about lore lmao. i could go on about the differeces bettween dbk's core and the camel ridge trio's cores too but i feel like you dont wanna read 10+ points on a reply for One ask. so yeah, ghost monkes, shadow monke, lets leave it until another reader send me an ask for it, which could be never <3