#man...this might be common knowledge but let me have this one...please :')

[mondaymelon]

— "𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂...𝗰𝗿𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴?" ♥

:feat~ xiao, kazuha, scaramouche x gn!reader: 

⤷ slight angst + comfort n fluff (oops i made kazuha’s part abnormally long) ⤷ They make you cry.

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open!) : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis

At first, XIAO doesn’t understand that his words have cut you. 

He was always one with a blunt, yet sharp tongue, never afraid to speak his mind or to criticize your actions on the slightest whim. After all, why should he be hesitant? His power is common knowledge - as an illuminated adepti, there’s few who can rival his dexterity.

But he never expected his words to hurt you. Xiao has never fully understood human emotion. He’s always isolated himself from the foreign concept, determined to separate him and such… frivolities. Emotions are for mortals, and he is not one of man. In his manner of thinking, he’s just helping you improve yourself, so why are you…

“Archons, Xiao. It’s always about my mistakes. My mistakes, over and over and…” Then your wavering voice cuts off as you swallow, hard. What did he do wrong? Why were you acting this way?

That’s when the aloof yaksha notices the crystal teardrops spilling from your eyes, running down your cheeks and staining the skin it trails. The slight hitch in your shallowed breath and the way you stray from his touch, trembling, anxiously wiping at your tears.

“...Love?” He isn’t accustomed to seeing you like this, avoidant of his gaze and so… vulnerable. “Wait, please-”

“Archons, love. Please, look at me.” Xiao takes your wrist in his gloved hand, his grasp cautious yet firm. His voice is pleading, quiet, strained with desperation.

“No, I… I didn’t mean to hurt you.” His voice shakes as he tries to meet your eye.

“Love, you are perfect. I never meant to say otherwise.” Please, believe me.

“I’m sorry. So please…” He detests the way he’s acting, heart racing so shamefully, yet still embraces you tightly, skin cold to the touch.

“Stay by my side.” ♥

KAZUHA’s eloquent wording is one that never ceases to amaze, so it’s only a twinge of misfortune that causes a misunderstanding to form.

As a poet, the way he speaks is quite ornate, a manner in which people may not comprehend. However, that’s never exactly been a problem when it comes to the communication of the two of you. You understand Kazuha, and that translates to his speech as well, so in a way, it’s only natural.

Yet…

“The show was incredible, wasn’t it?” You take Kazuha’s hand, and follow his gentle tug on yours as he leads you out of the crowd, smiling back at you. The white haired male, being the traveler he was, decided to take you for a night out in Liyue Harbor, where the two of you first ate a fine dinner, and just finished viewing a performance from the Liyue Theatre. Your heart still raced from the night’s breathtaking sights and wonders.

“Indeed it was.” He closes his eyes, a sign that he’s content, and you can’t help but widen your grin. “The main casting role, the lady with the flowing dress, was exceptionally talented. Just from the way she glided about the stage… you can tell she’s experienced, and blessed with bountiful potential.”

You nod along, albeit a little awkwardly. There’s nothing out of the ordinary for the two of you to discuss such topics, but for some reason, the way he’s speaking about her just makes your insides want to crawl.

He’s still droning on, eyes sparkling. “...Then, at the final scene, when she began to sing… say, Love, why don’t you try theater? It might suit you well. Maybe one day you’d be on a stage, just like her.”

What the male meant was: try theater out, you’d do well.

But what you heard, instead, was: you should do theater too. then you could be as brilliant as her.

You hated the way it felt like he was comparing the two of you, weighing which one held more worth.

“I know! We’ll be staying here for a while, so why don’t I sign you up for…” His voice trails off as he lets go of your hand, aware of the tears that are starting to form in your wells. “Love, what… what’s wrong?”

“Kazuha… please, stop.”

“...What?” He seems genuinely clueless, but clasps but your hands in his, a worried gaze written all over his face. “No, I…”

“Please stop comparing me to her. I already know I don’t deserve you… it’s just…” Fuck, now you really couldn’t stop the way the droplets started rolling down your cheeks, stray tears falling from your eyes and splattering onto the wooden planks below. All of your discomfort seemed to infuse themselves into the shameful adrenaline that was coursing through your veins, because you had worried if you weren’t good enough for Kazuha. Someone as lackluster as yourself, going out with a handsome young swordsman, intelligent, kind… he was loved by many, and you…

“...Love, please!” 

When did he get so close? He’s leaned in, concerned, crimson-eyed gaze trained onto your every movement. “What are you even thinking about, to be breathing so heavily… no, c’mon love, look at me.” And when you do, eyes meeting his, his mouth morphs into a somewhat smile. “There must’ve been a misunderstanding.”

“Because you are most certainly superior to any other person in Teyvat.”

“And of all people, you…”

“I am the one not worthy of your love, so don’t ever say that again.”  ♥

SCARAMOUCHE doesn’t care at all, why should he?

He said some stuff that you took too close to heart, so what? If he hurt you, why should he fret over it? You’re strong enough to take it. All he said was one or two harsh words that merely came to mind, so there’s no need for you to be all wounded over it, either.

“Yeah, you’re pathetic.” Scaramouche scoffs at you, one hand on his waist while the free one makes sarcastic motions in the air. “You can’t even get one thing right, can you?”

The “thing” in question, in fact, was making Scaramouche dinner. You added a pinch too much salt, and now the male seemed to act like you’d committed a grave offense upon humanity… but then again, he was always dramatic, so this time shouldn’t be any different, right?

“I… I tried my best…” Your voice trails off as you cringe under his undermining glare.

“Clearly, your ‘best’ wasn’t enough.” His jeering tone is enough to make your heart shatter as you glance up at him, eyes wide. You don’t realize you’ve begun crying until you feel the sensation of tears spilling down your cheeks, falling from your eyes with silent melancholy as you seem to choke on your own words.

“Why are you… why are you crying?” You’re scared to look up at him, whatever expression he’s making, so you keep your head down, pitifully wiping your tears away.

“I’m not.”

“Sure you aren’t.” His voice is airy as he rolls his eyes, frowning at you. What, now you get to act all disheartened? What did he even do to upset you?

“I’m not crying.”

“C’mon, Kuni. It’s okay to say if you’re sad. Here, cheer up, and I’ll give you this flower, okay?”

A voice echoed in his head.

“...Huh?”

And it’s strange, really, how the sight before him mirrors one from long before. The way your eyes hold so much sorrowful desperation, the way you seem so broken inside, and most of all, the way the tears that run down your face seem achingly familiar.

“Shit.” His voice seems small, too small. “Wait, love, I-” His voice cuts off as he sighs, unsure of what to say. The beating of his anxious heart overpowers all noise.

“Love, I was… joking. I don’t mean any of it.”

“You being here is a blessing of itself.”

“Archons, please know how much I love you.” ♥

(a/n) i accidentally made xiao's part the shortest i am a disgrace to humanity

[yandere-daydreams]

tw - forced marriage, unhealthy relationships, possessive behavior, and border-line shitpost energy.

It is common knowledge that Lord Scaramouche, Sixth Harbinger of the Snezhnayan Fatui, the nationally acclaimed and universally feared Balladeer, does not like to share his toys.

The timeline of your relationship should be proof enough of that -courted after only a handful of chance encounters during his time in your humble village, married as quickly as he could find an alter and an officiant willing to misinterpret your frantic sobbing as an 'I do', hastily locked away in an estate populated solely by masked guards and servants under strict instruction not to speak a word to you - but, if there was a soul in Teyvat who dared to ask for more evidence, you would happily point them towards the smoldering remains the book that you'd been too caught up in to keep track of one of his frequent one-sided rants, the patch of sand and stone that had once been the flower garden you lavished with all of the love and attention you'd withheld from him. He's as savage as he is predictable. His precious things, from his vast collection of porcelain dolls to the ancient sword that he keeps hidden in a velvet-lined box in his study, are safely stowed away, while yours are swiftly and mercilessly destroyed.

If there's something you'd like to keep, it has to be bargained for. You'll spend weeks singing his praises and cuddling up to his side, cooking all his favorite meals by hand (much to the distress of his small legion of private chefs) and letting him speak at length about the bloody, visceral vengeance he plans to rain down upon his countless enemies. It's only when you have him content and assured of your love for him that you pounce.

His lips purse, eyes narrowing. "No."

"Please, my lord." You lean forward, clasping your hands over your lap. "Won't you at least try to consider it?"

"Absolutely not." His tone is surprisingly haughty, especially considering his current position; head resting on your thighs, gaze pointed at some indistinguishable point on the far wall as you rake your fingers through his hair. "You expect me to strain my staff and myself just so you can... what? Visit your sister for a few boring days?"

"Her son is turning five, and she just had her first daughter. I thought it might be nice to see how she's doing and lend her a hand."

He scoffs. "You expect me to be so patient with you and yet, here you are, practically begging me to let you run off to the countryside just to see another man."

"Surely, you aren't denying my request because you're jealous of an infant."

"No. Whatever. Be quiet." If you didn't know better, you would think he's pouting. "My answer hasn't changed. I can't afford to spare that much thought on such a petty errand, not with the Tsaritsa as demanding as she is."

You hum, letting your head lull to the side. "You know," A weighted pause, your nails scraping against his scalp. "Her home isn't as... accommodating as yours. Her only spare room was converted into a nursery some years back, so we'd have to stay at an inn."

His lips quirk downward, unimpressed. "And?"

"And, there's only one in my village. It's quite a meager thing, too. Even this time of year, there's only going to be a few rooms available." Your touch lingers near the nape of his neck. "I know I usually insist on separate bedrooms, but given the circumstances, there's a good chance neither of us will be able to be so selfish."

There was a beat of silence, then another. You think, for a moment, that Scaramouche might be holding his breath, but you quickly remember that he doesn't breathe at all.

Finally, he responds. "A few days would make for a pathetic visit. Tell her that we'll be staying for a month."

As savage as he is predictable. That's all you could expect from your husband, wasn't it?

You lean down, pressing a fleeting kiss into his temple. "As you wish, my lord."

[deakyjoe]

Absolution

Pairing: Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader (afab, fem)

Category: smut, sex pollen

Summary: Obi-Wan really should have let his curiosity go and avoided that flower.

Warnings: 18+, smut (!!), sex pollen, slight dubcon (because of sex pollen but all consensual), unprotected p in v sex, master kink, slight sub!obi-wan, slight dom!reader, reader talks obi-wan through it basically, suggestions of inappropriate use of a lightsaber, virgin!obi-wan, religious guilt, hints of reader’s past feelings, reader kind of ignores some Jedi rules, kissing, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, a lot of talks of fluids I feel, slight angst I guess, let me know if I missed anything!

Word count: 4.9k

A/N: Happy May the Fourth! Happy Star Wars Day! Wrote an Obi-Wan fic last year so thought I’d keep up the tradition this year as well. It’s not the best thing I’ve ever written, certainly not the best smut, but I did end up rushing it a little to get it posted today so… sorry! This is for @lightwxlker who I told about this over lunch at uni <3 (feel free to read but please never look me in the eye again if you do). Can’t wait to see you later to see The Phantom Menace!!

Consider buying me a coffee :)

Absolution:

(Noun)

Formal release from guilt, obligation, or punishment.

Declaration that a person’s sins have been forgiven.

It felt like you'd been trekking through the dense forest for days. Really, it had only been a few hours. But with no end in sight, and Obi-Wan's continuous promise of almost there, you were convinced that the two of you had been lost for about a week.

The Jedi had told you that you were in search of a hidden community that had answers to some questions that the Council had about... something. You didn't know. You rarely paid attention when Obi-Wan explained these things. As much as you respected him, these briefings started to sound the same after a while. It was the thing he reprimanded you for most often.

"Can we-" You wheezed. "Can we stop for just a minute?"

"Soon." He called over his shoulder simply, pushing aside a leafy branch for the both of you to pass through.

You considered pushing him over, tripping him up maybe, and even just stabbing him with your lightsaber. Just to have a break for a moment. It was unclear how he managed to walk through dense forest for hours on end without even a hint of fatigue peeking through. You envied him for it.

Luckily, your prayers were answered when a clearing appeared. It was small, sheltered by the canopy of trees above you, but it was a good place to stop. You didn't even have to say the word, Obi-Wan already knew what you wanted.

"Fine, rest here for a moment." He sighed, pointing at a rock.

You collapsed quickly, thankful for the brief reprieve, and watched as the Jedi made a slow circle around the clearing. He was inspecting every little thing there was to see. If there was one thing you had in common with the man, it was your curiosity and thirst for knowledge.

"Rather fascinating." He mumbled to himself, ignoring the burning of your stare on his back as he moved, poking at a fungus of some kind with the tip of his finger.

"Be careful. It might be poisonous." You warned, stretching out your legs in front of you.

"I know my living organisms." He replied steadily, pulling up and moving on to the next one.

It was a flower. Rather large, with pinkish petals and an indigo centre extending on from a bright green stem. It looked vaguely familiar to you. You racked your brain, thinking about the botany books you'd spent your spare time reading when Obi-Wan had insisted that you should know more about the planets you were constantly visiting.

Nothing was coming to you. Maybe you hadn't seen it in one of those books. Your head tilted as you watched the Jedi stroke gently at the petals with the backs of his fingers, mumbling about how it felt soft, and something came back to you when the flower seemed to move of its own accord.

"Get back." You shot up from the rock you were previously sitting on and took a quick step towards him.

"It's fine." He insisted, not looking at you - too entranced by the flower as he continued to caress the petals. He didn't know this one. He found it intriguing.

You remembered where you'd seen the flower before. A book hidden deep in the archives, where you ventured when you knew no one was looking, part of a collection of things that the Jedi were not supposed to have interest in.

Your pace picked up as the flower curled in on itself, the fleeting look of disappoint clear on Obi-Wan's face, reaching for his shoulder to wrench him back.

"No! Obi-Wan, stop!"

But it was too late.

As you made contact with his robes to pull him away, the flower blossomed open. A bright cloud of purple pollen burst out and coated the two of you, settling itself over your skin and infiltrating your lungs, and therefore your blood stream, as you breathed it in.

You coughed, scrubbing at yourself to try and get it off. But you knew you were past that.

The Jedi turned to you, surprised to see the panic in your eyes. "It's just flower pollen, nothing a little water won't wash away."

Your voice was shaky as you spoke. "What have you done?"

He frowned and glanced back at the plant. It wasn't one he recognised, granted, but he also hadn't been warned of anything dangerous in this area. So he really wasn't concerned. "I don't understand. What's wrong?"

"It's a flos venerem." You whispered. "We need to find shelter."

As you turned around in a slow circle, trying to decide which way you were more likely to find somewhere to figure everything out, Obi-Wan watched you with a curious gaze.

"And what is a flos venerem?"

You scoffed over your shoulder at him. "Do you ever read?"

You knew it was an unfair question considering the place you'd read about the flower wasn't one he, or any other Jedi, frequented but you were angry and frightened. Angry at him for not listening to your warnings. And frightened for yourself since you knew what the flower was going to do to you.

He looked on as you closed your eyes, feeling out with the Force. "Now is not the time to insult me. Tell me."

You whirled on him. "It's an aphrodisiac. A powerful one. And if we don't find shelter soon then you're going to be doing some strange things to these trees."

Obi-Wan frowned, puzzled by what you were saying. "Is there a cure?"

You laughed humourlessly, turning away from him again. "Is there a cure? Is there a cure, he asks. Ha!"

"An antidote?"

"No, there's no antidote." You hissed.

The effects of the pollen were already weighing on you. You imagined Obi-Wan was also feeling something as well, just unaware of it. At least you knew what you were supposed to be feeling. The Jedi Knight had no idea.

Your mouth felt dry, like sand on your tongue, and your skin was hot to the touch. A dull headache was forming at the base of your skull too and you knew these sensations would only get worse if you didn't do what the flower wanted you to. There really was only one way to fix it. But you couldn't find it in yourself to tell your companion the solution. You were ignoring the heavy feeling in the base of your abdomen.

Sensing your apprehension wasn't overstated, Obi-Wan pointed back in the direction you'd come from. "There was a cave a little while ago. We can go there and you can tell me more about this... aphrodisiac flower."

You only nodded, lacking the strength to tell him that you wouldn't be able to listen to his voice out of fear of what bodily responses that would cause in you. Your existing attraction to Obi-Wan would only be increased by the influence of the plant. And you were scared what you'd do, or what you'd suggest, to ease the feelings.

You started marching in the direction the two of you had come from, jumping away from Obi-Wan as he fell into step beside you and his shoulder brushed yours.

"Keep- keep your distance for a while." You muttered, pushing away the lick of heat that had shot through you at his proximity.

He frowned back at you, feeling bad for making you so clearly uncomfortable. "My apologies."

"It's okay. I'm just-" You cut yourself off with a groan.

Obi-Wan's stomach lurched at the sound. "You're just what?"

"The flower is making it difficult to be next to you." You turned your head away from him, desperately trying to breathe in the clean forest air and nothing else. But all you could smell was him. The scent was so strong that you could practically taste him, his skin, and it was making your mouth water.

"You're already feeling the effects of the flower?" He hummed, pondering. "I feel nothing so far."

It wasn't true. But he was completely unaware of what he was feeling. He put the dry mouth and headache down to minor exhaustion, the hike through the forest finally catching up with him. And the stirring he was feeling... down below was foreign. The Jedi secretly believed that maybe he was immune to the flower's influence.

He was severely wrong.

You glanced back at him, instantly looking away when you caught his wide-eyed gaze. His eyes were so blue, so familiar.

You marched ahead of him, ignoring his quiet protests as you urgently sought out the cave. It came into sights quickly and your pace picked up, practically running towards it now. When you reached it, you discarded your top layer of robes, the heat your body was producing making it feel as if you were melting, and left your lightsaber by the entrance to the stone shelter. You feared what you may do with it when the flower's effects got even worse.

Obi-Wan followed closely behind you and watched with curious attention at your actions, slightly puzzled when you made your way towards the back of the cave and sat down facing the wall.

"Sit over there." You pointed over your shoulder to a spot far away from yourself. "I need to think."

"Trying to remember an antidote?" He asked, wondering what there possibly was to think about right now. And without his help as well.

"Sure." You sighed, closing your eyes as you took a deep breath. You weren't thinking about an antidote since you knew there wasn't one. You were considering your options. Even though you knew they were limited. Very limited.

He trusted your word however, which was mildly foolish of him, and took a seat where you'd instructed him to do so. He kept his gaze on you, fixated on the back of your head, as he observed your breathing pick up and then slow back down several times of the course of a few minutes.

What Obi-Wan failed to notice was how his breathing was in tune with yours, increasing when yours did and lowering when yours did.

It didn't escape him though when the flower's influence started to manipulate his body even more. The dry mouth, dull headache, rapid heartbeat, and hardened dick were becoming increasingly difficult to ignore. And Obi-Wan couldn't stay in denial for much longer.

So he called out your name.

Big mistake.

You jumped at the sound, having to bite your tongue to prevent noise slipping from your lips, and glanced at him over your shoulder."Yes?"

"I believe the flower is finally setting in." He decided that was the best way to put it and not that the sight of you was making him think things he hadn't even considered since he was a lot younger.

You looked at him silently for a second too long, eyes flicking downwards before moving back up to meet his again. "Meaning?"

His brows creased for a moment. "You know."

You did. So you turned back towards the wall and stared at it. "I'm thinking really hard about it, okay? I'll work something out."

Lies.

Time progressed slowly, moving at a sluggish pace that had you wanting to claw your way out of the cave in temporary insanity, and you could hear Obi-Wan's condition growing steadily worse by the minute.

You were finding it a lot easier than him to control yourself, probably due to your more extensive knowledge on the subject of simple carnal pleasure. But Obi-Wan was losing it.

You kept your eyes focused on the stone in front of you, desperately trying to ignore the sounds that Obi-Wan was making behind you. The breathless whimpers that were leaving his mouth were heavenly to your ears, creating a pulse that shook through your body regularly. Despite the sounds making you feel good, it was getting harder and harder to stop yourself from giving in and crawling over to him. Especially since you could hear him tearing off at least one layer of his clothing.

"Obi-Wan, please be quiet." You whispered, just loud enough for him to hear.

To the Jedi your voice sounded husky, tempting almost. "I cannot help it. Please help me."

His voice was desperate, almost whiny, as he begged you for some sort of assistance. If only he knew what that assistance was.

You squeezed your eyes closed, resting your face in your hands. "I'm trying."

It was a lie. You knew that nothing could be done. The passage from the book you'd read about the flower had been very clear. Death was inevitable. Unless you engaged with someone... intimately.

It was the only method that would get your bodily reactions to calm down. If not, the next few days would be painful for the both of you. You'd be extremely aroused the whole time, heart racing at a million beats per minute, sweat would pour out of you and cause severe dehydration that would be impossible to remedy, and finally your body would give up from the sheer exhaustion of trying to handle it all. Then, you'd drop dead.

Just how exactly were you supposed to voice that to Obi-Wan, the man who'd boasted about his ability to follow the Order's rules for years, that the only way for the both of you to survive this was to sleep together? And how were you supposed to recover from possibly finally having the man you'd wanted for so long for just one night and then never again?

"I can sense that you're keeping something from me."

Your head snapped up at his statement. He was correct, sure, but you hadn't expected him to pick up on it in his state.

So you turned around to look at him, legs crossed in front of you and back against the wall to keep yourself as far from him as possible.

"There is one solution that I know of." You confessed, still thinking of a way to tell him.

"Just tell me. I know it's troubling you. It's okay." Obi-Wan's tone was soft and comforting.

You took a deep breath in. "You won't like it."

"Do we have a choice?"

You let the breath out again. "Death."

He released a tired and humourless chuckle. "I can assure you that I'll prefer whatever solution you have to death. So tell me."

You debated what words would spook the Jedi less. Were you clinical and informative? Or soft and subtle? The sweat dripping from his temple, begging to be licked away by the tip of your tongue, was telling you to be harsh and raw with him.

Your gaze fixed on his mouth. "We have to have sex, Obi-Wan. Multiple times probably." The last part was added on for emphasis, meant to draw a reaction out of him.

He gave it to you. His already flushed cheeks reddened some more, eyes darting away from yours momentarily. It's not that the antidote was unexpected, he figured that it would lead somewhere like this considering the two of you had been contaminated by an aphrodisiac, but he thought maybe that there would be another solution. Or that you'd at least beat around the bush a little more.

Obi-Wan didn't know how to tell you that he'd never done something like that before so wouldn't even know where to start.

Little did he know that you were already well aware of that fact.

"I'll guide you through it." You paused. "But once we get started I don't think you'll need much guidance. The effects of the pollen will probably lead you."

His eyes snapped back to you, a frown pinching between them. "And what do you know of it?"

"Obi-Wan..." You mumbled, tilting your head down slightly to give him a meaningful look.

He didn't look thrilled at the notion.

You scoffed, annoyance bubbling at his obvious judgement. "We all have a past."

He knew what you meant. Sure, everyone had a past. He just didn't realise you had that sort of past. Still, he realised he had no place to pass judgement against you.

Heat pulsed between your thighs at the sudden wide-eyed apologetic look he was giving you. A groan rumbled in your chest and you squeezed your eyes shut.

"I see that this is hard for you." He whispered and you attempted to hold back a laugh thinking that this probably wasn't the only thing that was hard. "So, how about you come over here and... show me what we have to do."

You looked back at him, surprised by the boldness he was showing. Yes, he wasn't a shy man by any means but you thought he'd have been a bit less confident in this situation. Or maybe the whole thing would just be so meaningless to him that he thought it'd be easy.

Obi-Wan could feel random muscles in his body clenching as you stared at him. He'd never felt like this before. He'd always known that you were beautiful, it was impossible to ignore, but he'd never thought much else of it. But now? He couldn't do anything else apart from think about it.

You slowly pushed yourself up from your seated position and fell onto your hands and knees, too tense to stand up, and made your way towards him steadily. He was surprised to find himself practically buzzing at the sight of you crawling towards him, a ravenous look on your face. You stopped about a foot in front of him, looking up into his eyes through your eyelashes.

A hand reached out for you.

You took it.

With his help, you settled yourself over Obi-Wan's lap, a leg either side of his thighs so you straddled him. You didn't let your weight rest on him just yet, wanting to check in quickly to make sure he was okay. It was taking everything in your power not to start touching him all over despite your overactive brain basically screaming at you to do so.

His eyes moved rapidly, taking you in as he searched across your body. A hand landed on either of your hips, encouraging you to move closer to him. So you did, chest pushing slightly against his and weight pressing into his lap as you sat down. The both of you let out a sigh at the contact, pain eased for just a few moments.

It was then that you noticed you'd sat on something extremely hard.

"Is that a lightsaber in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?" You chuckled, about to reach down to remove the weapon from the inside of his robes.

But Obi-Wan's eyes flickered over your shoulder to somewhere behind you. Slowly, you turned to see what he was looking out, a small pinch between your eyebrows, and saw where you'd discarded your own lightsaber earlier. What you were surprised to find was his lightsaber resting up against a rock beside yours.

"Oh." You croaked and looked back at him, eyes shooting to his crotch for a brief moment. "You are just happy to see me."

"The flower." He grumbled lowly.

Your heart fell momentarily, your face along with it, before you recovered and looked downwards towards his chest. "Right, of course."

Realising he'd made a fatal mistake, Obi-Wan placed a finger under your chin and tilted your head up to make eye contact again. "A combined effect of the flower and... you."

Your mouth dropped open for a second, dazed by his statement, before a smile blossomed along your face. "There was one thing I forgot to mention."

"And what was that?" His eyes were fixed on your mouth now.

"The flower's effects are stronger and fast acting if you are already attracted to the person you're with at the time of exposure." You leaned towards him closer, the tips of your noses brushing against each other. "I expected to feel the influence at least an hour or two before you did, Master."

A soft sound, somewhere between a moan and a whine, escaped his lips at the use of the title. It surprised you, you hadn't thought he'd be into that kind of thing. You didn't give him a chance to give you a real response though, the noise he'd just made finally pushing you over the edge.

You cupped his face in your hands and kissed him, thumbs swiping over his cheeks to wipe the purple pollen away. He let out another sound at that, this one more shocked, but equally as unrestrained. Your mouth opened just in time to catch it and swallow it against your own moan at finally feeling his lips melding with yours.

Usually, in the past, you’d have some sense of patience in this situation. But it’s like the feeling of his skin under your palms and his lips against yours, your tongue in his mouth, sent the pollen vibrating in your bloodstream. And before you knew it, your hands were tearing at his clothes, absolutely desperate to get them off.

And while Obi-Wan was a little more hesitant than you, inexperience slowing him down, once he felt how eager you were he could only join in on the action. His hands were soft, almost silky, like they hadn’t ever seen a day of hard labour in his life, and they sent warm bursts of electricity through you as they slid against your skin.

All barriers between you were removed in less than a minute, although time seemed to be flying now that you’d actually gotten beyond just staring at each other and ignoring all feelings your body had been screaming at you to address.

“Do you know what comes next, Master?” You questioned, wondering how out of practice he really was.

Obi-Wan seemed to pause, taking a long thought, before saying anything. “I’ve never done this before.”

“I know.” You said and he seemed both embarrassed and surprised. “That’s not what I was asking. Do you know what happens?”

“I’ve heard things.” He admitted slowly.

Up until this point you’d been trying to avoid looking down at his naked body. Sure, the two of you had been pretty enthusiastic in taking the other’s clothes off but neither of you had verbally stated what you were comfortable with actually doing. That didn’t mean you couldn’t feel every inch of him pressing against you though. Somehow in the tumble of robe removal, you’d slid forward on his lap which had caused your torsos to connect. And you hadn’t bothered to move back again.

You searched his face for any sign of discomfort, finding none. “Can I touch you?”

He sputtered. “You already are.”

“No-“ You took a deep breath. “Can I touch you… down there?”

You were hesitant to say certain words to him, cringing at just the thought of them coming out of your mouth and entering his ears. You shouldn’t be shy about this, having done this countless times before. But now you were doing it with Obi-Wan, someone you admired with the deepest affection, it felt different. A good different but different nonetheless.

“Oh.” The flush he’d been sporting across his face stretched to meet the tip of his ears and you reached up to tuck some hair back away from them. “Yes, you can.”

You could see that the lust the flower caused had taken over all rational thought as his irises, usually so blue and bright, had been consumed by his pupils dilating. Was this a good idea, you silently wondered? Did he truly want this? Or was the flos venerem speaking for him?

Before you had the chance to ponder over that even more, the animal instincts in your brain took over and your hand was wrapping around his, pretty sizeable, cock.

He hissed at the sensation of your warm palm touching him and you observed his reaction with hungry curiosity. You liked the way his eyes fluttered closed and his teeth sunk into his bottom lip, the way his head snapped back against the cave wall and he didn’t even seem to notice that it should’ve hurt. He was too absorbed in the pleasurable way that you were touching him.

You were touching him.

Obi-Wan felt as if he were flying amongst the stars.

Your hand slid up and down his length, taking in every minor reaction he gave you to see what he liked. The answer was: he liked all of it. No matter the pace of your strokes, the pressure of your squeeze, or the angle of the twist, Obi-Wan revelled in it all.

Every sound he made caused what felt like a flood to pour from between your thighs, skin prickling with flames of desire. You increased the speed of the pumps against his shaft, feeling him twitch in your hand. Obi-Wan started babbling to himself, something you couldn’t quite understand but realised were certainly happy mumblings. It didn’t take much more until he was orgasming, cum spurting out of him in hot ropes and coating both of your stomachs.

You weren’t surprised to see that he remained hard. At least the botany books hadn’t lied to you about the multiple times thing.

“Need you inside me now, Obi-Wan.” You whispered, pleased when his eyes seemed to spark with something akin to excitement. Pushing yourself up slightly, you took him in your hand again and aligned him with your entrance. Notching him against you, you inched down onto him slowly, feeling your hips stutter willing you to go faster, and watched his face scrunch up in pleasure.

“Does that feel good?” You asked despite knowing the answer. You just wanted to hear him say something, even a noise of approval would work for you.

He nodded rapidly and whined. “Yes, yes.”

Pleasure rocketed up your spine, walls clenching around him and he whimpered again. His hips bucked up underneath you and your eyes rolled back in your head.

He did it again.

You came.

A shocked laugh escaped your throat as the orgasm rippled through. You hadn’t realised it would be that easy but given that you’d denied yourself any friction and stimulation for way too long considering the situation you were in, it only made sense.

Obi-Wan’s eyes widened. “Did you just-?”

“Yes.” You sighed and rocked your hips against his, thighs still trembling with the aftershock.

“Stars-“ He gasped, head falling forward to bury his face in your neck. You smiled at the feeling of his beard scratching against your skin and moved faster.

Time became a haze, multiple orgasms rolled into a blur, and before you know it you felt like you couldn’t move anymore. Your legs ached, your body dripped with sweat and your breathing was shaky and uneven.

But you were determined for one more.

Obi-Wan gasped about it being too much but couldn’t stop himself from continuing to thrust up underneath you. Which you were thankful for considering you could feel your thighs cramping up and barely managing to support your weight. His arms locked around you, trapping you against him, as he pounded into you urgently like he was chasing something. He was really. And you could understand.

“Come on, Master, just one more.” You murmured against his temple.

It took only those words of encouragement for Obi-Wan to spill inside you once again, the feeling of that setting you off as well. And finally the two of you relaxed, the pollen’s effects wearing away.

The two of you sat against each other breathless for a moment before you eased up off of him and settled beside him. He immediately collapsed against you, sliding down until his head met your lap. You placed a hand in his hair as his breathing slowed down to a normal pace.

Now that the high had passed, guilt was setting in.

“What have I done?” Obi-Wan croaked, burying his face against your thighs.

You froze, knowing you should be feeling this same shame but not finding it in yourself to care. At least not right now. “It’s okay.”

“No!” He almost wailed. “I broke- I broke rules. Sacred Jedi code.”

“You had no choice. It was either that or death.” Tears stung at the backs of your eyeballs, willing yourself not to crack and break down. He needed you to be strong. “There was no other way.”

He knew you were right, a small seed of relief buried deep in his chest. He didn’t have another choice. But then there was another matter…

You continued to try to make him feel better. "The council will forgive you, Obi-Wan. It couldn't have been helped."

The Jedi could only nod in reply. That wasn't what worried him anymore, your logical argument had been enough to reassure him of that. What did worry him is how much he wanted it to happen again.

He glanced up at you. "What about you? Can you forgive me?"

You paused, hand stilling against the side of his head. "There's nothing to be forgiven."

"Please." He whispered against your skin. "Please just-"

It hurt you to hear the break in his voice. A man, usually so confident, reduced to this. All because of something out of his control.

You took a deep breath, stared straight ahead at the cave wall opposite you, tears in your eyes and a hand combing through his hair. "I forgive you, Obi-Wan."

A/N: I listened to Star Wars ambience on YouTube as I wrote most of this. Hope you enjoyed!

[bitter-me]

Hiiiii I've been scrolling to much in Tumblr thankful that I found ur acc, got hooked with ur writing when I read the jing yuan fic <333

so may i request dr. Ratio or sunday with a gojo m reader 👀, maybe enemies to lovers (anything is fine ^^) , the plot is yours to freely choose <33

Charm You Later~

Sunday | M. Reader as Satoru Gojo [Jujutsu Kaisen]

----------

"I hate that man I hate that man! …but oh cara mia..how I love him~"

----------

Oh how he hated that man. He would always waltz towards him and act all buddy-buddy, and he'll do it with that cheeky grin. How annoying.

And that voice. Oh how he dreaded it. Hearing it hurts his ears.

Just who does he think he is? Getting all chummy with him. A member of The Family! Just who does he think he is?! Another thing he doesn't understand.. is how Robin seems to be fond of him. How could his sister like someone like him? He's a complete man child!

When he asked about it, her response was. "He just seems to be a fun person to be around."

Fun? Him? He's more like a headache! An annoying headache!

Especially that one time...

.

.

.

.

.

The door of the theater bursts open, revealing a tall man wearing sunglasses. He casually walks towards a specific seat, his hands in his pockets and a cheeky grin on his handsome face. Acting like he owns the place.

Some were swooned by the handsome man, some were whispering amongst each other, some looked at him with annoyance.

Just who does he think he is?

"Hey! Sunday!" He called out casually, raising a hand as if his tall figure and "grand entrance" didn't already attract anyone in the theater.

----------

How humiliating! To have someone as brash as him to call out to him like that in front of everyone! Sunday swears he wanted to kill him right then and there.

"What's with that look~"

"Shut up."

"Hey I was just asking an innocent question.."

The man pouts as Sunday turned his back against him. How grumpy.. why can't he just lighten up a little? A dream is supposed to be sweet, not bitter. "Come on~" Letting out a sigh, Sunday mumbled something under his breath before speaking up. "That's enough, [Name], please leave."

"Come on Sunday~ Why must you act this way to me.." [Name] teased as he continues to pout at Sunday for being a "meanie" surely he hasn't done anything bad, right? [Name] is positive he hasn't done anything that might result in such a behavior from Sunday. So.. he decided to continue with his teasing.

The other's teasing will always annoy Sunday to no end. He always acts so cheery, plus that cheeky, weirdly adorable grin on his face that doesn't seem to be leaving him anytime soon. He's looking down on him. Of course he is! His tone, no matter how friendly it is, still has that faint hint of arrogance in it. The way he acted is just so.. condescending.

Then again.. what did you expect from someone who always claims he's the strongest.

"Is it something I did? Hey, Sunday." [Name] wrapped his arms around his shoulders, leaning down a little to do so. "Sunday, tell me!" Poking the man's cheek as he kept pestering him like a child wanting their parents attention. With a groan Sunday slapped the man's finger with his wing. "Stop that."

[Name] pouts before finally leaving Sunday alone.

Finally.. some peace and quiet..

----------

Death comes for us all. A common knowledge. And yet, the moment that.. thing attacked..

He can't help but feel.. off..

The sight of that thing attacking him.

How the self proclaimed "Strongest" struggles in the face of Death. Then again.. no one could escape Death itself. But still.. he can't help but feel a wave of dread at the sight of it. When he saw him after the incident, there was one thing that crossed his mind..

'That blank, dead-like expression doesn't suit him.'

Where's the smile that always decorated his face? Where's the captivating glow of his eyes?

"What's this?" The other asked rather blankly, a tone that doesn't suit him one bit. "..a get well soon gift." "I'm not sick."

Letting out a sigh, Sunday continues to shoved the small box toward him. "Just take it." [Name] look at Sunday from over the top of his sunglasses, eyeing him for a moment before taking the gift, mumbling a small "Thanks."

'That look doesn't suit him.' Sunday continues to think of the same thing over and over again. The glint of mischief isn't there anymore... he can't deny it anymore.. Sunday had missed the bastard's mischievousness and his playful attitude.

"What's this for anyway?" "Stop that."

Taken aback by the sudden harsh words [Name] look up from the gift and stare at Sunday. "I beg your pardon?"

Sunday? Raising his voice like that? That's unheard of.. why is he acting this way? What happened? Is this truly Sunday? Thousands of theories run through his head as [Name] tries to think of a reason for the calm and collected Sunday to lose his temper like that.

"I said 'stop that.'" He huffed crossing his arms. Yeah no, [Name] isn't taking that attitude. "What's with you all of a sudden?"

"That's supposed to be my question you idiot!" Sunday suddenly raised his voice as his temper took the best of him. "Wha—Hey!" "Just shut up and listen to me!!"

[Name] glared at the winged man. Him? Telling him to shut up? Who does he think he is? Ordering the "Strongest" like that? And where is all of this coming from? It doesn't make sense! Not with how calm and collected Sunday usual is!

The winged man grabbed the other by his collar as he's getting fed up with their little argument. But before [Name] could protest again, he was silenced by something soft placed on top of his lips. A sweet kiss.

Huh?

Did he just..?

Stunned by the kiss that came out of nowhere, [Name] looked at Sunday with wide eyes. He was not expecting that... how is he supposed to expect that coming from the person who he annoys and argues 24/7?

The two blushed as Sunday looked away for a moment before speaking up. "That look doesn't suit you."

"Could you please... give me a smile instead..?"

[writing-reference-redux]

I felt like sharing my collection of Latin phrases that may make good fanfic or fanart titles or inspiration. Some of the translations may be off, so you might want to double-check them before use. Also, I used capitalization liberally so you might also want to check where capitalization is actually indicated.

Ab Intra (From Within)

Acta Est Fabula (The play has been performed)

Acta Sancti ___ (The Deeds of Saint ___)

Ad Undas (to the waves / to hell)

Advocatus Diaboli (Devil's advocate)

Aegri Somnia (a sick man's dreams / troubled dreams)

Alea Iacta Est (the die has been cast / point of no return)

Apologia Pro Vita Sua (defense of one's life)

Caetera Desunt (the rest is missing)

Cedere Nescio (I know not how to yield)

Damnatio Memoriae (damnation of memory / denying someone ever lived)

De Nobis Fabula Narratur (their story is our story)

Decessit Vita Patris (died before their father)

Diem Perdidi (I have lost the day)

Dies Tenebrosa Sicut Nox (a day as dark as night)

Dolor Hic Tibi Proderit Olim (some day this pain will be useful to you)

Dulce Est Desipere In Loco (It is sweet on occasion to play the fool)

Dum Vivimus, Vivamus (while we live, let us live)

Dux Bellorum (war leader)

Ex Umbra In Solem (from the shadow into the light)

Festina Lente (hurry slowly)

Fortis Cadere, Cedere Non Potest (the brave may fall, but can not yield)

Fui Quod Es, Eris Quod Sum (I once was what you are, you will be what I am)

Graviora Manent (heavier things remain / the worst is yet to come)

Haec Olim Meminisse Iuvabit (one day, this will be pleasing to remember)

Hic Mortui Vivunt (here the dead speak)

Hinc Illae Lacrimae (hence those tears)

Hodie Mihi, Cras Tibi (Today it's me, tomorrow it will be you - of death)

In Ictu Oculi (in the blink of an eye)

In Somnis Veritas (in dreams there is truth)

Inter Spem Et Metum (between hope and fear)

Lapsus Memoriae (slip of memory)

Luctor, Non Mergor (I struggle, but am not overwhelmed)

Lux Ex Tenebris (light from darkness)

Media Vita In Morte Sumus (In the midst of our lives we die)

Memento Mori (remember that you will die)

Memento Vivere (remember to live)

Morior Invictus (I die unvanquished / death before defeat)

Mundus Senescit (the world grows old)

Nemini Parco (I spare no one - death)

Nitimur In Vetitum (we strive for the forbidden)

Non Ducor, Duco (I am not led; I lead)

Non Omnis Moriar (I shall not all die / part of me will survive beyond death)

Nunc Scio Quid Sit Amor (now I know what love is)

Oderint Dum Metuant (let them hate, so long as they fear)

Omnia Mutantur (everything changes)

Onus Probandi (burden of proof)

Opera Posthuma (posthumous works)

Ophidia In Herba (a snake in the grass)

Pax Aeterna (eternal peace - a common epitaph)

Primum Non Nocere (first do no harm)

Pulvis Et Umbra Sumus (we are dust and shadow)

Quis Leget Haec? (who will read this?)

Quod Periit, Periit (what Is gone is gone)

Res, Non Verba (deeds, not words)

Respice Finem (consider the end)

Scientia Et Sapientia (knowledge and wisdom)

Seculo Seculorum (forever and ever)

Sed Terrae Graviora Manent (but on earth, worse things await)

Si Vis Pacem Para Bellum (if you want peace, prepare for war)

Sic Infit (so it begins)

Sic Vita Est (such is life)

Silentium Est Aureum (silence is golden)

Sine Nomine (without a name / author unknown)

Sola Dosis Facit Venemum (the dose makes the poison)

Solvitur Ambulando (it is solved by walking / simple tests find solutions)

Stamus Contra Malum (we stand against evil)

Succisa Virescit (cut down, we grow back stronger)

Sum Quod Eris (I am what you will be - of death)

Summum Bonum (the supreme good)

Summum Malum (the supreme evil)

Sunt Lacrimae Rerum (there are tears for things)

Sunt Omnes Unum (they are all one)

Tabula Rasa (blank slate)

Transire Benefaciendo (to travel along while doing good)

Tu Fui Ego Eris (I was you; you will be me - of death)

Ubi Amor, Ibi Dolor (where there is love, there is pain)

Ultima Forsan (perhaps the last / sundial quote "perhaps your last hour")

Usque Ad Finem (until the end / fight to the death)

Vacate Et Scire (Be still and know)

Vi Et Animo (with heart and soul)

Victoria Aut Mors (victory or death)

Vincit Qui Patitur (he conquers who endures)

Vita Ante Acta (a life done before - of reincarnation)

Vivere Militare Est (to live is to fight)

Vox Clamantis In Deserto (the voice of one crying in the wilderness)

There are also some longer ones that may not make good titles because of their length, but are still worth inclusion:

Aut Simul Stabunt Aut Simul Cadent (they will either stand together or fall together)

Flectere Si Nequeo Superos, Acheronta Movebo (if I can not reach Heaven I will raise Hell)

Forsan Et Haec Olim Meminisse Iuvabit (perhaps even these things will be good to remember one day)

Igitur Qui Desiderat Pacem, Praeparet Bellum (therefore whoever desires peace, let him prepare for war)

In Regione Caecorum Rex Est Luscus (in the land of the blind, the one-eyed man is king)

Minus Malum Toleratur Ut Maius Tollat (choose the lesser evil so a greater evil may be averted)

Quem Deus Vult Perdere, Dementat Prius (whom the gods would destroy, they first make mad)

Ubi Sunt, Qui Ante Nos Fuerunt? (Where are they, those who have gone before us?)

Virtus Junxit Mors Non Separabit (that which virtue unites, let not death separate)

[nex-ture]

Hi, could I solo a Mikey with a shy reader at a Toman meeting? Please

Manjiro (Mikey) Sano x gn!reader

2-year-old asks!! I post every blue moon. I also took creative liberty cause, idk wtf I was supposed to write

I might have accidentally put "He" somewhere in here for the reader, but I'm illiterate so don't come for me

Y/N was always so quiet. They weren't an ordinary member, but they never stood out like a sore thumb. The only person attention they ever seem to steal was Mikey and an ever so curious Takemichi. Whenever Takemichi didn't know someone or their position, he would ask his trusty, right-hand man, Chifuyu.

"Who's the kid, the one leaning against the pillar." Takemichi turned towards his partner with an egar look on his face.

"That's L/N Y/N. They're not the most talkative, if I'm being honest. But they show up to just about every gang meeting and division captain meeting." Chifuyu mentioned off as if this should be common knowledge.

Takemichi looked at Y/N, now talking to Mikey. They were deep into conversation, yet they would only ever talk to Mikey, maybe on the rare occasion would they be caught talking to another founding member.

Chifuyu leaned closer to Takemichi to mention something in a loud whisper, "There's rumor stirring that they're actually dating, or at the very least crushing."

Takemichi continued to stare at the two as Mikey left to officially start the Toman meeting.

Y/N seemed to be keeping to themselves throughout the whole meeting, every once in a while people would usually turn to talk about what their captain said, but Y/N didn't seem to have interest in that.

When the meeting finished, Y/N hoped on the back of Mikeys back as they went home. Takemichi was dead set on uncovering their relationship. Why would Mikey be so interested in someone who barely spoke, and why would anyone be into Mikey...

Takemichi walked over to the few remaining captains, which consisted of Draken, Mitsuya, Smiley, and Angry. They all left shortly after Mikey, aside from Sanzu, who left the exact second Mikey did.

"Hey Draken, can I ask you something?" Takemichi walked closer to the group who were previously lost in conversation. "Does it have something to do with Y/N?" Draken questioned like he already knew.

Takemichi was taken aback by his response, begging to know how he knew... was Draken a timeleaper, too!? Takemichi was quickly brought back down to earth when Draken spoke, "It was kinda hard not to notice how intently you were staring at Y/N almost the whole meeting." Takemichi was a bit embarrassed by this. He knew he was staring, but he didn't know it was that obvious.

"Yeah, do you guys know what's up with Y/N? They don't seem to talk to anyone but Mikey." Takemichi let out in what seemed like one breath. A few in the group looked at him dazed, others with a curious look to hear the answer. "Well, I think it's normal to feel most comfortable around you, partner." Draken uttered like it was the most obvious response in the world.

Takemichi looked at Draken dumbfounded with his response, though he's not shocked, Drakens acting like he knows every last thing about the personal lives of the Toman members. "Oh yeah, Y/N and Mikey are dating...if you didn't know." Draken says, still making direct eye contact with a dumb founded Takemichi.

Takemichi sighs, thanking Draken before heading over to wear Chifuyu had parked his bike so his partner could take him home. He made sure to tell Chifuyu that his suspicions about Mikey and Y/N were true, earning a loud yell in excitement from Chifuyu over his correct assumption.

As Takemichi was dropped off at his house, he made a note to himself to get to know the person dating his best friend.

[sleepy-writes-stuff]

DP X DC WRITING PROMPT #3

(I'm feeling kinda angsty today, I guess. If there's a fic/prompt like this already tho, please link me. 👀)

next →

✦

Reaper of Heroes

Once crowned as the High Ghost King of the Infinite Realms, Danny gains some grim reaper-like abilities and dominion over a specific subset of souls.

Heroes.

People who don masks and capes to protect the innocent from those who would harm them, just like he once did in the beginning of his existence as a halfa. He's was horrified by the responsibility but is eventually resigned to it. Due to bittersweet nostalgia, he quickly grows fond of the heroes that rose up after he took the throne and packed away the suit. Responsible he may be for the collection of their souls, but with council from Clockwork and the Ghost of Time's knowledge of the most desired paths, sometimes he'll just... let a soul slip through his fingers and return to it's vessel before it's chain is completely severed. He doesn't care that the observants complain constantly about those particular actions. If there's still room for a soul to do good for the better of everyone else, they can hardly stop him from straying from their plans. Much less with him as their king and protection as his obsession.

Only he is responsible for the reaping of these specific souls, unless delegated to one of the more common reapers at his command of course. Sometimes he follows his favorite heroes around, invisible to them unless he wishes them to see him or they're very close to death's door. He's trailed them so closely that some heroes have reported seeing a kind but sad looking man with white hair and aurora green eyes when they've nearly been pushed past the limits of their mortal bodies.

Ones who have passed through the veil but came back report vague memories of a similar sort; a kind man who cradled the very essence of their being with hands so gentle it's worth a few awe filled tears once he released them back amongst the living. The JL give him the moniker Grim, for his black and white coloring and for the shadowy scythe he carries not as a weapon but more like a key that unlocks the chain that binds them to their flesh. He never speaks to any of the heroes he interacts with tho. Always silent with a calculating, but sorrowful gaze.

At least until now.

When he appears before a bruised and beaten, young Jason Todd with whisper soft words in his ear as he comforted the concussed boy about to be killed in a fiery inferno at the hands of Gotham's mad clown.

As the explosion comes to a close, an unseen figure cradles the star-like light of a soul close to his chest as he wept and apologized for being unable to save the young soul from such a painful end but was thankful the poor boy this light belonged to could feel it no longer.

✦

What do you think? Angsty enough? I might have a little more to add to this but I'm gonna stop for now. I injured my hand yesterday, so it hurts to type for too long.

[qwimblenorrisstan]

Spared | Gaz x Reader

Day 20: Spare Me w/ Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

Summary: After your good-for-nothing husband abandons you in the face of danger, Kyle takes matters into his own hands.

Word Count: ~ 1.1k

Warnings: a/b/o dynamics, guns, someone being shot, death, mentions of blood, forced proximity

A/N: im ovulating. hope you enjoy<3

Requests are open!

Your pained whimpers leaked through the door.

It was slowly driving him insane.

You hadn’t done anything wrong. This wasn’t your fault. There was no reason a sweet omega like you, the scent that had previously been heavy with the sweet fragrance of fresh fruit, was now sour and soaked in fear. You hadn’t known what your husband had been doing behind your back.

It wasn’t your fault.

You shouldn’t even be affecting him this much, he was wearing his scent blockers, and taking his pills that were described to him on time in the correct doses, but he couldn’t get the house out of his head.

Normally, he’d be able to tune out the fear of the family members they used as bargaining chips, only seeing them as a way to get information, to make their victim crack under the pressure and stress.

Your husband had been affiliated with Makarov, supplying him and his men for a deal between the two. Giving the criminal weapons, ammunition, armor, shelter, everything. But it hadn’t been enough, and he’d been double-crossed, turned in for a profit.

“Talk!”

He heard Price yell from the door opposite of the one you were in. A slap. The man spat, Kyle could hear it, probably at his Captain.

He’d been at it for almost an hour by now, Ghost working the tools away, having the man screaming while you remained in the room just across from him. Gaz knew it was purposeful placement, letting you sit and wallow in your fear, wondering if you had a turn next, or when it might be. What would they do if you didn’t say anything?

He doubted you knew anything, considering how purely unguarded you’d been when they had stolen you from your home in the middle of the night.

Just another thing that made his alpha perk up and chomp at the bit. You were defenseless and vulnerable.

But he tried shoving those thoughts down, especially when he heard heavy boots hitting the floor, the metal door creaking open, and Price coming out with bloody knuckles and a scowl.

“Bring ‘er in.”

He rumbled, not seeming pleased by the pure lack of care that was on the man sitting in the chair’s face. As if unbothered.

Kyle was quick to obey, opening your metal door, nose crinkling at the thickly sour scent in the room. It was dark. The concrete floor must’ve been hurting your soft skin by now, leaving marks and intentions besides the bruises already left on your skin.

You whispered, scooting away and shaking your head frantically at him as he approached with a gun in hand. Your back hit the corner.

“Nonono, please—“

You began, the ache only building in Kyle’s chest as you began crying again, thick tears rolling down your too-thin cheeks. Your husband hadn’t been taking very good care of you. All the Sergeant wanted at this moment was to take you away and coo and fuss over you until you were all better again.

He saw your eyes growing mildly distant as he picked you up by the scruff of the neck, dragging you over to the other room, holding your nearly limp body in front of your pathetic excuse of a husband. He didn’t say anything.

Kyle pulled out a pistol from its holster, clicking the safety off, and placing the cold metal against your head. You whined deep from your throat, and he watched as even Price shifted uncomfortably at the man’s lack of reaction.

An alpha was supposed to protect their omega. They would naturally react to any threat against them. This was common knowledge they’d seen firsthand in battle before.

“Talk, or yer missus is gonna have a new piercing in her head.”

John growled, but the man refused still, shaking his head, and looking away.

You began squirming again, head jerking away from the gun, only to hear the bang go off and reverberate through the room with its cold, concrete walls.

Except when you opened your eyes, there wasn’t a hole in your head. There was one in your husband’s.

“Gaz—“

Price started, surely about to reprimand him, when Kyle cut him off before he could.

“Negative. Not taking any complaints on that one. That’s not how you treat your wife.”

He snarled, the raw ferocity in his tone making both men tense, Ghost subtly shifting into a defensive position. He noticed.

Your confused sniffles were the only thing keeping him from just tackling someone to the foot with how wound up he was. He clicked the safety on the gun, tossing it to the floor, and hoisted you over his shoulder while you squealed, grabbing on tight to not fall off.

Fast learner, you were.

He ignored anyone’s looks or the shouts Price tried to follow him with, storming off to his little room, the one he stayed in when not on the bunkers. He pulled the key out, jamming it into the hole, turning and opening the door.

He shut it behind him, locking both of the door’s locks behind him, walking into a room as he carried you limp as a rag doll into a warm, dark bedroom that he only turned a dim light on in. It smelled like him. It was also warm like his honey brown skin.

He sat down on the edge of the bed, pulling you against him; before feeling the blood soaking your clothes and sighing.

“Clothes off.”

He murmured, the command gentle and sweet, but still a command at the end of the day. You whined, pulling the soiled nightgown off, leaving your underwear on to have at least a shred of dignity.

You heard shuffling on the other side of the bed and heard his clothes hit the floor before he turned to face you. His calloused hands wrapped around your soft body, pulling it closer into the warmth of his skin. His nose nudged at your scent gland right on your neck, rubbing against it, greedily inhaling as he pulled the blankets over both of you.

“Can’t believe that arsehole, not protecting a sweet thing like you,”

He murmured to himself, voice vibrating against your skin as your eyelids began drooping, hazy, exhausted mind eager to rest after the traumatic day, especially in the arms of a reassuring and warm alpha.

“Doesn’t matter, though. My pretty ‘mega now, gonna stay with me, aren’t you?”

He mumbled, sentence trailing off as the both of you fell asleep.

You weren’t sure if you were in less trouble now than you had been earlier, but you also weren’t sure if you cared or not.

Tags:

@hawke1917

@angstober

[wonijinjin]

seventeen members teaching you how to drive

author’s note: very self indulgent since i am working on getting my drivers licence rn, for the members that cannot drive let’s pretend they can in this;) please note that this is purely my opinion and is not accurate nor was made to criticise the members in any way, thank you<3

synopsis: what the title says.

word count: 1.3k | genre: fluff, humour/crack | pairing: seventeen x gn! reader | warnings: none

cheol would be one of the least calm ones, we know that he is a good driver and he knows it too, therefore he would love to comment on every single move you make, getting frustrated with you within like 10 minutes. he would yell and scream at you for “not understanding this simple thing” (driving is complicated af nobody can tell me otherwise) while literally wanting to snatch the wheel from you because as he puts it you are a terrible driver being a danger to society lmao. overall 5/10, taking away points because he would definitely make you cry at some point

jeonghan is one of the best ones; his skills are solid, he is kinda chill and doesn’t worry too much. however, this would not be the most beneficial since he is known to be a menace and would be casually clowning you at every move, making you question the knowledge you already have about driving and the road. when you panic and don’t know what to do he would switch back to teacher mode, being very quick to help you, getting you back on track in the journey. overall 9/10, only taking a point away from him because of his tricks my man needs to chill and let you be confident

now although shua may be one of the quieter ones who won’t yell or freak out, he would give up on you quite easily tbh. he is very good at keeping his cool so he would try to be gentle when guiding you on the roads, but if you had struggles with driving frequently during the journey there would be soon a moment when he would sigh and lean back in the seat, contemplating on just getting you a more professional person to help. overall 8/10, he is a bit lazy but can be convinced to stay

jun is at a bit of a loss when explaining, just like some other members he would not always know how to express what you did wrong, since it comes naturally to him at this point, so the process of both of you trying to figure out what exactly felt off with a move you did might become a common thing with him. he is very excited for you though, and would give you all his support! overall 5/10, could be better but he is trying his best so A for effort

if you want to learn how to drive safely i would not recommend getting hoshi to teach you; he is a very fun person to go on karaoke rides with, however he is not always aware of certain limits (speed limits *cough cough*) or the surroundings when being caught up in the moment. he tends to be a bit careless when he is having fun which with you would be evident since he loves your company, however he has a job to do which is teaching you, so please be careful with him since he doesn’t always see the whole picture. overall 5/10, you would definitely fail the exam for the first time

wonwoo is another chill one, his flaw would be that he was bad at explaining; whenever you would ask a question about how to proceed he would tell you, but wouldn’t be able to explain why, which is a very important thing as you should understand why you do what you do (he knows this aswell). he would recommend learning the rules again saying “it all makes sense if you know the rules well enough.” (not always, but gotta admit he has a point) overall 7/10, would be one of the best ones attitude wise

woozi is a very straightforward person, he tells you what to do and expects you to do it. or not. he is quiet and doesn’t get mad easily when you make mistakes, it is part of learning things for the first time afterall. he would gently guide you through the journey only getting a bit taken aback when you do something that even you know is a big mistake. he is not a man of many words in the car which would be the downfall of the learning process, however he is very attentive and observant so after exiting the car he would help you understand the cause of the mishaps during the drive. overall 6/10, a bit quiet

dk is very enthusiastic about teaching you how to drive and would be grateful that you chose to trust him. he would spend endless hours in the car by your side to absolutely get everything done perfectly so you could pass the exam, although he might not be harsh enough at times to tell you when you actually mess up badly, so be careful and don’t take every praise he murmurs to you for granted, as he would not want to say bad things about your skills (even though they were needed to be said, he is a big softie sorry not sorry). overall 7/10, he might be a bit too nice

minghao is pretty much teacher material, strict but not so much that you would get discouraged, balancing out the way he would guide you through every important step sternly, but nicely, hinting soft comforting words along the way to keep your motivation alive and spirits up. if he would be in charge you can bet you would pass the practical exam on the first try, him having a cocky smirk on his face when he saw that all the hard work you two put into it paid off. overall 10/10, i would sit next to him any time he is such a good driver

mingyu is hands down the best person to learn from. he is an experienced one; he practically taught the others how to drive aswell, so you are just another routine learner in his eyes (obviously not, he is the softest with you). his instructions are quite easy to understand and follow, and he is good at giving you helpful tips to make your work easier later on and on the exam. he is witty and entertaining so you wouldn’t feel uncomfortable with the fact that he is teaching, making driving seem so fun you could never be pried off the seat of the car. overall 10/10, friendly and efficient

seungkwan is a shy one; hesitant about how to start and how to help you the best. later on during the drive he could completely switch and could become easy to anger (yall know my man has anger issues) therefore him sitting next to you would be a rather nerve wrecking experience with his judgy expressions escaping against his will. for good measure i gotta say he would try to save the scolding for after each round so you wouldn’t get stressed out while at the wheel, he knows panicking won’t help. overall 6.5/10, he is trying to stay calm we gotta appreciate that (cheol if he was patient)

vernon is the most chill out of them all, this is why he wouldn’t be of much help if i’m honest. he would just nod and sit next to you silently, looking out the window and sometimes opening his mouth to say that you are doing well, poor boy would not have a single clue about how to correct any of your mistakes, saying that “it has been a long time since he learned to drive” aswell. overall 5/10, sorry he is just not teacher coded

dino is more gentle and patient than he looks in my opinion, and he is a relatively good driver who knows a lot about road rules and stuff, so him being on the passenger seat would give you a flashback about the days when you would study the names of the road signs and how the different rules should work in practice; he is the mediator between theory and practice, putting them together nicely with you in teamwork. overall 8/10 pretty solid methods and skills

[howlingday]

Gentlemen Weaver's Club

Jaune: Penny, I'm going out shopping. Is there anything you want while I'm out?

Penny: Mm... I want syrup cakes, like Professor Goodwitch has!

Jaune: I... don't know that kind, but if I find some, I will see about buying them for you.

Penny: Please~? Melanie Malachite promised to bring me a cake, but she never did!

Melanie Malachite did not, in fact, make such promises.

Jaune: I'll do my best. Be safe in here, sweetheart~!

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

Jaune: (Thinking) I'm so glad she and the Malachite girls are becoming such good friends. Blake has been very worried ever since Penny came home after her first negative mark. I need to do what I can to make sure their friendship lasts!.

Jaune: Oh, maybe those guys over there know where I can get some syrup cakes. But... What if it's too weird that I wouldn't know? Should it be common knowledge to know where to buy cakes? No! I can't risk it! I have to do this on my own!.

Neighbor: Good morning, Mr. Belladina-

Jaune: (Darts down the street) ON MY OWN~!

Neighbor: Ho ho ho... So lively this morning...

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

Jaune: Maybe there's a department store that sells cakes. Ugh... I've never been to these kinds of places alone. Maybe this was a bad idea?.

Vendor: Excuse me, sir, might I interest you in this parfum? One puff and you'll have to beat the ladies back with a stick~!

Jaune: A gas that turns women feral around you?! It's such a tempting execution, but I can't! I have to be normal!.

Jaune: Erm, n-no gas grenades for me, sir! I am a normal husband! I'm just buying sweets for my sweet Penny!

Vendor: Ah, you want the bakery! It's the next floor down.

Jaune: Thank you! (Hurries away)

Jaune: I was right! This was a bad idea! There's so many tempting items, I'd be out of money without Blake! I need to focus and find those cakes! For Penny!.

???: Can't you hurry, Charlem?

Butler: I... I'm trying, sir, but... You've bought so much...

???: Then stand aside and let me- Whoa!

Butler: SIR! LOOK OUT!

???: (Falls backwards)

Jaune: (Catches man and his boxes) You okay?

???: (Clasps hands) THAT WAS INCREDIBLE!

Jaune: What?!

???: You came in from out of nowhere, all- Swash! Swosh! Swush! You must be some kind of athlete? Tell me, are you from out of town?

Jaune: Whuh- N-No, I live here! I'm just here for syrup cakes!

???: Then you're not busy at all~! Please, join me, would you?

Jaune: No, really, I'm just here for the cakes.

???: Well, it's the least I can do! Charlem, gift him ten boxes!

Jaune: (Ten boxes in his hands) Whoa! So fast!

???: Please, I insisit!

Butler: Oh, athletic and acrobatic savior, please accept these tokens of my master's gratitude.

Jaune: O-Oh...

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

Jaune: ...HUH?! Why am I wearing this?!

???: Ho ho! It looks dashing on you~!

Man: Is this he, Argynt?

Guy: Our ringer?

???: Ho ho! Indeed, he is!

Jaune: Wh-What is going on?

???: This is the Genteman Weaver's Club, an organization of like-minded patriot husbands who serve our Kingdom however we can within our community! You're just in time for our track meet warm-up!

Jaune: Is... this normal for dads?

Sir: You don't know?

Dude: It is now! Daddy Tracksters are all the rage at the moment! Keeps us men fit while our wives work themselves to the bone on our behalfs!

Jaune: If... If track meets are normal, then... Then I will compete!

???: That's the spirit!

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

???: Ho ho ho ho ho! We may not have won, but even a loss is worth it to see the fear on East Side's faces~! And it's all thanks to you, Jaune!

Jaune: But... all I did was trample our teammates and knock people over...

Gent: That's the thrill of these track meets! Having a young stallion like yourself on the field serves as morale booster for ourselves and delivers a demoralizing shockwave to our foes!

Waiter: And what will the gentlemen be having today?

???: I will have the Espirit Coerlum.

Sir: What about you, Jaune?

Jaune: Uh... I guess I'll have a, espree-whatsit.

???: Oh, Jaune... Don't tell me you're one of those kinds of lads just trying to fit in. Order whatever you want.

Jaune: No, no, I'm completely normal!

Guy: So, Jaune, are you married?

Jaune: Yes, I am.

Dude: Any kids?

Jaune: Just one, but... I'm more of a step-dad than a real dad. Sometimes I feel like whatever I do is not enough. Even as a husband, sometimes I feel like I don't know what to do.

Man: HA! Welcome to the brotherhood, then! I've got a kid of my own, flesh and blood, and I still don't know what goes on inside his damn head!

Sir: It's half the reason we get together like this!

Jaune: R-Really?

Jaune: Not knowing what to do... is normal?.

???: Oh, this is fun. I do hope you join us again sometime. Despite how we look, the Gentleman Weavers Club isn't as rough and tumble as you think.

Jaune: If... If you'll have me... I promise to knock over only the people I'm supposed to next time!

???: Ho ho ho! Now who's all rough and tumble?

Guy: Speaking of, Argynt, you won't believe this. My boy got himself a negative mark. Caught with a sandwich outside of meal time!

Jaune: Negative mark? Then... does that mean your son goes to Beacon Academy?

Sir: Oh? Do your girl go there? What grade?

Jaune: She's in the beginner classes.

???: Belladina... Belladina... OH! Goodness! How fortuitous it is for us to meet like this?! Do pardon my manners, as I never properly introduced myself. My name is Argynt...

Argynt: ARGYNT AQUOS MALACHITE.

[atinylittlepain]

Apothecary - Chapter Five

joel miller x witchy!reader

series masterlist

she and joel try to figure out their new normal. will her upside-down world be too much for him to handle?

warnings | 18+ smut-adjacent, significant angst, mentions of pregnancy (not what you think), feelings

word count (since someone asked lmao): 5.8K

a/n | we are entering turbulent waters, my darlings. but remember, i promised you a happy ending, and a happy ending you shall get. just, not yet. as always, i love to hear from you about what you think of the chapter, drop me a message and let's chat <3

.........................................

“Dead man walking at three o’clock, boys.” “Watch out, whatever she’s got working on Miller might rub off on you if you get too close to him.” 

“Just a matter of time now, don’t you think?” “Better him than me. I like coming home alive, thank you very much. Miller can have her.” 

The folks talking at the stables are lucky that Joel couldn’t give less of a fuck about what they have to say. He’s got better things to focus on. As the summer has slipped into those long languid days before the first snaps of fall, it’s become common knowledge around town that Joel Miller is the witch’s man. And he couldn’t be more pleased about it. 

The men place wagers on when he’ll wind up dead, and the women, well, they’ve got a different look in their eyes when he comes around now that he’s so clearly caught the attention of the resident witch. But it’s all just noise to Joel, who is completely and unequivocally wrapped up in his woman.  

Tommy has cut down his patrol shifts, and Joel knows it’s because of his brother’s own little superstitious streak, though he’d never admit it to him. But Joel doesn’t mind spending more time working the stables, not when she comes around at midday in between her rounds, sharing her lunch with him, and a little sweetness, before bounding off to wherever she’s needed next. 

He’s learning more about her everyday. What’s true, and what’s baseless rumor. Just the other day, he had witnessed for himself her strange communication with animals when she had calmed a bolting horse with a light palm and a few murmured words, the mare tilting its head at her like it was listening to what she had to say. When she had turned back around to Joel after leading the horse into the stables, she offered him a smile and a shrug. Another truth.

They’ve made a little routine around each other, something he didn’t think he’d ever get again in this world, and he fucking adores it. Today is no different, when the sun starts to drip low in the sky and he’s finally finished shoeing a particularly skittish horse, he heads off from the stables toward her shop to pick up his girls. That’s the other thing, she looks out for Ellie, and Ellie thinks she’s “the fucking coolest.” Joel can’t help but feel like he won the damn lottery every time he steps into her shop and finds them laughing and talking easily in the back.

“Wait, wait, I’ve got a good one for you today.”

“Alright, let’s hear it.”

“What do you call witches who live together?”

“I don’t know, tell me.”

“Broom-mates!” 

“Kid, that one is bad, even for you.” Both she and Ellie whip around from where they had been chatting in the backroom of her shop when they hear his grumbled words. Ellie scoffs.

“What? It’s topical.” She snorts at Ellie’s response, nudging her as she wipes her hands off on a rag.

“It was ok. A little culturally insensitive though. That whole riding around on brooms thing is a total myth.” Ellie’s eyebrows shoot up her forehead at that, and she laughs at the girl’s expression, stepping around her to pad over to Joel.

“Hey there, handsome. Quitting time?” It still catches him off guard sometimes, how easily she slips her arms over his shoulders, leaning in for a quick kiss, calling him handsome, though he can still hear Ellie making gagging noises over the ringing in his ears. 

“Mmhmm, yep, yes ma’am. You ready to go?” She smiles, getting ready to answer him and being abruptly cut off by a sharp mroowww. He’s already expecting it, little paws clawing up his pants leg, a less welcomed development that has recently emerged as Stevie seems to take every chance she gets to make Joel her human scratching post. With a laugh, she scoops the mewling cat up in her arms, holding her out to Joel, though he swerves away slightly.

“Oh c’mon, Joel. Just give her a little pet. She’s trying to show you that she likes you.” He begrudgingly gives Stevie two curt pats on her head to which she lets out an indignant mrrp in response, yellow eyes squinting at him. No matter how many times she’s tried to convince him that Stevie likes him, Joel is still not sure what the cat thinks of him, or more importantly, what he thinks of her. There’s been a few times now when he has stumbled down stairs in the middle of the night to get a glass of water, still rubbing sleep out of his eyes, and he’s found the cat, frozen midstep, going god knows where out the backdoor. How Stevie got the door open in the first place is beyond him…

Ellie huffs from behind them, shuffling over and taking Stevie out of her arms, the feline immediately nuzzling up to her and purring like the most content engine ever. 

“You can’t just bop her on the head like that, old man. Stevie likes a gentle touch.” She giggles at Ellie’s admonishment, her hand that had been resting on his chest coming up to scratch lightly at his scruff as he grumbles. 

“Jesus christ, are y’all ready to go or not?” 

They certainly make an odd little team walking down the main drag of Jackson, his arm slung over her shoulders, Ellie walking a bit ahead of them carrying Stevie like a baby. There are stares, of course, there always are, and even a loose whisper here and there as they make their way home. Or, he supposes, to his and Ellie’s home, though she spends most nights with him these days. 

Pieces of her life have become permanent fixtures at the Miller residence, her “sensitive plants,” as she had called them, lining the windowsills downstairs, a few thick books of hers stacked on his nightstand, her overalls hanging off the corner of his bathroom door. He’d never admit it to anyone, but it actually makes him quite sentimental, these tangible reminders that he gets to call her his. Though there are always a few nights a week that she slips off by herself, going back to the shop or her own place after dinner. He tries not to think too hard about those times, and what she might be up to. After all, there are still a whole lot of things about her that he can’t quite believe, his mind playing catch-up with the strangeness of it all. But he reckons it’s worth it to get to have her like he does right now, an easy hand on her hip as they get dinner ready, Ellie rambling at the kitchen table about something Dina said earlier at school.

And while it feels so good, this routine they’ve slipped into, there’s always a twinge of guilt laced through when his mind wanders to the world just outside of Jackson’s gates, to his past, and the harsh dissonance between this present sweetness and that old pain. He had once asked Tommy about it, how he lives in this strange sliver of normal after the life they’ve known, and his brother had just shrugged and said that maybe it was exactly because of their past that they deserve whatever respite they can find now. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” Her voice snaps him out of his mind, eyes focusing back on her sitting across from him at the table, dinner long finished and Ellie off wreaking havoc with the other Jackson teens.  Don’t tell anyone, but Joel Miller has traded in his usual nightcap at the Tipsy Bison for a warm cup of whatever she steeps in a kettle on the stove. He doesn’t mind the taste, and it saves him a headache in the morning, and right now, the warmth from his mug anchors him just enough to ask her what’s been on his mind.

“Y’know, you never did tell me how you knew– about Sarah.” Her eyes soften around the edges, smile drooping just slightly.

“Well, I told you that I see the world in threads. The thread between you and Sarah– your daughter– it’s a particularly strong one.” 

“Even though– even though she’s gone?”

“She isn’t gone, Joel, not really. I can feel her all around you.” His head spins with her words, tightness settling in his chest, and he doesn’t realize he had been clenching his fist until she reaches out for him, unfurling his fingers in her hand.

“Can you– could you– could you talk to her?” Her brows pinch, lips pressing into a thin frown at his question.

“I’m sorry, baby, I can’t. People– like me– we all have different talents. I had an aunt who’d have long conversations with her husband who had passed on– but that’s never been something I’m able to do.” He swallows hard, nodding, feeling a bit foolish for asking the question in the first place.

“But you said you can– feel her?” That brightens back her smile, and she squeezes his hand in hers.

“We’re all just energy. Even when we die, that can never be destroyed. So yes, I can feel her with you, and how much she loved– loves you.” It becomes too much for him all at once, the hot prick of tears behind his eyes spurring him to tug his hand out of hers. She says his name like a question, but he’s already stumbling out of his chair and toward the front door. 

“Wait, Joel– just– where are you going?” It breaks his heart, the concern laced through her words, and when he turns to give her a response, his hand still on the doorknob, he can barely look at her.

“I’m sorry– I can’t– it’s just– I can’t– it’s too much– it’s all too much.” Perfect silence, she offers no reply to his words, and he doesn’t wait around to hear one, slipping out the front door and stumbling into the quickening night.

…

She fucked up, it becoming clear to her with the slam of his front door behind him. All she wanted was for him to have the truth, hoping that it could be a comfort to him. But obviously she had been mistaken in thinking that. He said that it was too much, but the implication of those words was apparent, that she’s too much. She knows better than to follow him, having figured enough out about Joel Miller to understand that any prodding will be unwelcomed, so she stands, feeling a bit helpless, in the middle of his living room. But then she starts looking around, seeing her plants everywhere, a few of her bracelets on the coffee table along with one of her books, knowing there’s more where that came from up in his bedroom, and she starts to think that she had come on too strong, that she was too much. 

He was spooked by what she said, there were no two ways about it. She’d recognize that look in his eyes anywhere. She just hated that it had been in his eyes. Suddenly, she wants, needs, to get out of his house, and away from the deafening silence of being alone. She grabs her satchel, hastily shoving whatever odds and ends of herself strewn around his house that she can into her bag. She’s with it enough to lock the front door and slip out the back, figuring that wherever he went, he won’t be back for a while. The hot slip of tears comes before she can stop it, hurrying away from Joel’s house and toward her shop, intent on doing the one thing she knows will calm her mind.

…

He fucked up. He knew it the second he stepped out on his porch, and had even thought about turning back around right then, going back inside, trying to talk it out with her. But there was nothing to talk out, she’d done nothing wrong, he knew that. It had been such a jarring conversation for him, straddling the line between disbelief and something that touched a little too close to bone for his taste, and unable to stay up on the tightrope with her, he bolted. 

The Tipsy Bison is quieter tonight, it being the middle of the week, but that’s a blessing to him, not wanting to run into anyone he knows while he tries to fuzz out his thoughts with booze. It plays over and over again in his mind.

I can feel her all around you.

Joel reckons that more than anything else, the feeling that had propelled him out of his house and away from her had been anger, that she can feel something he would give anything to feel himself. Very early on, he’d talk to Sarah, every night, asking her for signs. It had been in a fit of frustration when no signs ever came that he had pointed a gun at his temple and missed. So for her to so easily say that, to bridge that gap he had been clawing at for twenty years, it had set loose a dark mix of emotions he had been trying to stifle for a long time. And he believes her too, no matter how fantastical it seems. He knows that whatever she does choose to tell him, it’s always the truth, which only makes it sting worse. 

He feels sick to his stomach after his first tumbler of whiskey, a gnawing pain he can’t shake, his mind replaying the glance he got of her face before he left, a crumpled look, something bordering on fear. And he suddenly has no interest in staying at the bar any longer, pushing away his glass and walking out onto the empty streets of Jackson, having stayed in there long enough for night to lay down heavy and cool over the town. 

A pause, trying to get his bearings, to get out of his head, his eyes wander over the storefronts outside the Tipsy Bison, though it’s a figure emerging from between the shops that catches his attention.

“What’re you doing out here, trouble?”

meooowww

He shuffles across the street over to Stevie, meeting her in the alleyway she just sauntered out of. Bending at the waist, he offers out his palm, Stevie rubbing her cheek up against his fingers with a satisfied purr.

“Think I messed up a little.” Stevie lets out a mrow at that, and if she hadn’t been nuzzling at his palm, he would’ve sworn that she nodded her head at his words. Joel sighs, standing back upright, Stevie’s yellow eyes looking up at him, unblinking.

“Better go talk to her, huh?” This time, there’s no other explanation for the little bob of the cat’s head, and Joel has to let out a laugh at the sheer absurdity of it. Whatever this new normal is, ain’t nothing normal about it.

“Alright, trouble, you coming?” He gets no response, because, hello, it’s a cat. But when he starts walking, Stevie falls into step next to him. 

The whole walk home, he’s so preoccupied with what he wants to say to her that he’s completely caught off guard when he goes to open the front door and finds it locked. Not a light is on inside, either, and he can’t help the frustration rising in his chest, Stevie starting to claw at his pants not helping one bit. She stops just as soon as she started, giving him an expectant look before turning around and padding down his porch steps. At his wit’s end, all Joel can think to do is follow the cat.

…

This is when she feels closest to her mother. Sweat pricking along her hairline, the sleeves of an old work shirt hiked up to her armpits, the backdoor to the shop cracked open to air out the fumes, and a bandana tied over the bridge of her nose, covering the lower half of her face as she works. 

She’s had to make changes to the process in this new world. Where they used to buy lye from the local craft store, she now has to make it herself, leaching wood ash in barrels in the alley outside the shop. Where they used to use exotic oils like neem and jojoba, she now makes due with beeswax and sunflower seed oil. But she still stirs honey, mint, and lavender into the mix, the scent a pure dose of home for her. 

Her eyes burn as she stirs, the sharp sting of vapors from the lye a welcome distraction from all the thoughts still winding around her mind. She’s done this a thousand times, moving with measured precision, the mixture swirling thick and black as she carefully ladles it into the wooden mold. They used to make huge batches every spring, rectangular molds the size of garden beds, and once the soap was set and cured, they’d slice it up into small blocks, enough for the year and then some. Now she only makes a little at a time, when she wishes more than anything she still had her mother with her, telling her what the next right step is. 

She wipes away the cool drip of sweat on her forehead with the back of her hand, turning the stove off with a jerk of her chin. Some things never get old. But before she can take the now empty stock pot over to the sink, Stevie comes slinking in, nuzzling up against her ankles. She tugs her bandana down from her nose, letting it hang around her neck as she looks down at her girl.

“What’d you get into tonight, little miss?” 

“She talked some sense into me.” Her head whips up at the sound of his voice, seeing Joel leaning against the backdoor frame. She can’t help but feel a bit exposed in her ratty attire, and she wonders how much he had seen. She’s never had anyone around when she’s done this before, and it feels like a vulnerability she wasn’t ready to extend to him.

She sniffs, squaring her shoulders and trying to seem unphased by his presence, willing her voice to come out steady.

“Oh?” She feels like she needs to swallow around something thick in her throat, words getting stuck somewhere in her chest. 

“I’m sorry– that I just bolted. I wasn’t expecting that– what you said– and I reacted without much thought.” Her fingers itch with want, to reach for him, to thumb away the crease between his brows. But she resists it, staying where she is, her hands bunching into the fabric of her loose shirt instead.

“You don’t have to apologize, Joel. I’m the one who should be saying I’m sorry. You were right– it was too much, and I should have been able to see that. I’m sorry that I pressed too hard.” He kicks up off the doorframe, stepping into the shop, and immediately lets out a few harsh coughs, thumping his fist against his chest as he squints at her.

“Is there– a reason– my throat feels like– it’s on fire?” She curses low, quickly guiding him by the shoulders back out of the shop and into the alley.

“Fuck! I’m sorry! It’s the fumes from the lye. I guess I’m just used to it by now.” She rubs quick circles across his back as he continues to let out wheezy coughs, looking at her with wide eyes when he finally catches his breath.

“What the hell are you doing with lye, woman?” The harsh tone of his words makes her jerk back from him, stepping just out of reach as she crosses her arms over her chest.

“It’s for soap. That’s what I’m doing, making fucking soap. Not whatever all those people you talked to put into your head.” His face blanches in the moonlight, jaw slack at her words.

“That’s not– I didn’t mean it like that.” She scoffs, anger suddenly feeling like a really good idea as she takes another step back when he goes to reach for her.

“Oh really? Are you sure about that, Joel? Are you sure that this isn’t too much for you? That I’m not too much for you?” She regrets the words the instant they leave her mouth, her mounting insecurity a thick sludge in her throat as silence settles between them. 

“This ain’t about the soap, is it?” She has to laugh at his timid question, throwing her hands out in frustration.

“Yes– no– fuck, I don’t know. I just– the way you looked at me? When I told you about Sarah? I’ve seen that look before, and I know it well– it usually means that it’s time for me to go.” 

“Go? What do you mean go? I don’t want you to go anywhere, goddamnit!” The sharp raise of his voice catches her by surprise, his frustration clear in the long drag of his palm down his face, the sigh he lets out as he squints at her in the dim light.

“Then I need you to tell me right now if what I do, what I am, is going to be a problem for you. Because if it is, I can’t– can’t do this.” She can’t fight it down anymore, the hiccup in her voice, the warble that threatens tears, and Joel’s features soften at the little sniff she lets out.

“You know it’s not a problem for me, you know that. But– I ain’t gonna lie to you, this ain’t easy, darlin. All these things I sure as shit didn’t believe in until I met you. Sometimes I feel like my world’s been turned upside down trying to wrap my head around it all.” She doesn’t step away this time, when he gets closer to her, tentative hand reaching out and circling around her wrist before sliding down to tangle his fingers with hers.

“It’s a lot. But it’s not too much. I promise you.” Words she’s never heard before, and now she really can’t stop the tears muddling up her vision and slipping down her cheeks. He takes another step closer, his other hand coming up to brush away stray salt with the backs of his knuckles. And it finally clicks for her in that moment just how much she wants him to mean it, how much she wants him to stay, and it terrifies her. 

“I really am sorry, Joel– about what I said earlier. I should’ve been more careful.” He holds his palm steady against her cheek, dark eyes swimming in shadows.

“I was the one that asked, darlin. I just– I’m gonna need a little more time with– with that.” She sighs, having already reached a conclusion that she doesn’t like one bit, though she knows it’s for the best. She isn’t going to let this be like any of the times before.

“I think that maybe we should take things– slower.” She can tell that Joel doesn’t like that, his brow scrunching up, thumb stilling where it had been stroking along the arc of her cheek.

“S-slower?” She nods, squeezing his hand that’s still tangled up in hers.

“We rushed into this, didn’t we? I mean– it’s only been a few weeks since we really started seeing each other, and I’m already practically living with you.” His face really falls at that, a deep frown settling around his lips.

“You don’t wanna live with me, is that it?” She’d laugh if he wasn’t looking so pitiful about it, instead offering him her best smile as she brings her other hand up to brush his hair out of his face.

“That isn’t what this is about, Joel. I just think it might be good for us– for you– if you’re not in my– upside-down world– all the time, at least at first. Like getting acclimated to a new altitude, you gotta take it slow.” She knows it’s a weak explanation the minute the words leave her mouth, but she also knows she’s right. Joel, on the other hand, still has a displeased scrunch to his face, like someone just told him a tasteless joke. 

“Uh, well, ok– if that’s what you want then– I mean, I guess we can– we can do that– we can take things– slow.” He keeps clearing his throat between words, stop-starting himself like he’s trying to convince himself he means it as he’s saying it. And when he finally gets it all out, with a firm little nod of his head, she can’t help but reward him with a quick kiss.

“Thank you, baby. I really think this is important– I wouldn’t have suggested it if I didn’t.” He nods again, his hand that had been cupping her cheek trailing down her shoulder, her arm, until he’s holding both her hands in his.

“So, what does this look like– us taking it slow?” 

“We can figure it out as we go. But for right now, I think we can say goodnight, and I’ll go back to my place, and you’ll go back to yours.” 

“Can I walk you home?” Her heart tugs at that, his question so earnestly asked, only making it harder for her to respond with a sigh.

“I kinda have to clean up the shop still. I can’t really leave that stuff out overnight, y’know? A-and I obviously don’t want you messing with it, so–”

“No, I-I get it, that’s alright. Um, so I guess, goodnight then.” She’s never seen him so flustered, having to stifle a giggle when he realizes he’s still holding her hands and lets go with a huff. He seems to think on it for a beat, quickly ducking in and pressing the most precious kiss to her cheek, muttering a quiet “goodnight, darlin” as he turns to head home, shoving his hands deep into his pockets and taking a few jerky looks over his shoulder at her before he rounds the corner of the alley. 

She turns back to the shop with a sigh, Stevie sitting in the back doorway, head tilted at her.

“What? It’s for the best, you’ll see.”

…

For the record, Joel doesn’t like this taking it slow business, at all. He’s not even sure how she got him to agree to it, he had been so turned around that night, and she had been giving him those eyes… But no, he doesn’t like it, not one bit. 

To start with, he doesn’t like that she no longer comes around to the stables at mid-day, no quick kisses, no easy smiles. Nothing. And he doesn’t like that she no longer comes over for dinner every night, and not just because she’s a better cook than him. He doesn’t like that his walk home from the stables no longer includes a regular stop by her shop. And he doesn’t like that he has to hear from Ellie what his woman was up to that day. He hates that they go on dates now, like normal fucking people, scheduling time to be together instead of just throwing out the clock and moving like magnets. But perhaps more than any of his other qualms, the thing he hates the most is that he doesn’t get her in his bed every night.

When he agreed to take things slow, he didn’t know it meant this slow. He didn’t know it meant goodnight kisses and holding hands but that’s it slow. Afterall, he’s only a man, and after getting to have her the way that he did, it feels damn near impossible not to crave that like a drug.

He’ll admit that she was right, taking it down a notch has made it easier to wrap his head around the things that she shares with him. But it’s been three weeks of this, and he’d turn himself upside-down, inside-out, and every which way around if it meant speeding things back the fuck up.

Laying in bed, his mind swirls with images of her. Is it gross that he hasn’t washed his sheets since the last time she stayed over? He doesn’t really care, not when there’s still a faint trace of incense and lavender on the pillow she slept on. 

His mind wanders to the last time he had her here. It was early in the morning, before either of them had to go to work, and she had lazily slung a bare thigh over his waist, perfect in the hazy morning light as she straddled him. It had been slow and sweet, taking time that they didn’t really have. She was so warm and soft for him, all gentle sighs, the mesmerizing curve of her hips and the sway of her breasts, an image that works him up now in the cool darkness of his empty bed. 

It’s not the same, of course it’s not the same. But it’ll have to do for now. He holds her steady in his mind, a dream, an idol, a fucking goddess, and he palms himself through his boxers, a damp spot already forming from just thinking about her. He kicks his sheets off, shrugging his boxers down just enough to let his cock spring out, pre-come smearing over his stomach where it now rests. Part of him can see how pathetic this looks, rubbing one out every night to the dream of his woman, but he wouldn’t have to if they weren’t taking things so goddamn slow. Now, a normal person would think that maybe he should just talk to her about picking up the pace. But he’s too stubborn for that, and he knows it, and it drives him crazy that he equates having that conversation with defeat. Joel tells himself that he can do this, he can give her what she wants, respect her boundaries, no matter how stupid he thinks they are. 

He doesn’t take his time with himself. This is purely about release for him, and he knows exactly how to get himself there, spitting harshly into his hand and wrapping his palm around the base of his cock, scrunching his eyes shut as he starts to work himself over. 

She’s all he thinks about in these moments, how her hands are so much different than his, still calloused from the work she does, but softer, and smaller. He thinks about the plush of her lips, and how they fall open when she comes, the little crease between her brow her other tell. He thinks about the way her spine curves and curls, and how his palms would run circuits around the arc as he took her from behind. His mind flashes with images of her, and it isn’t long before he’s coming with a low groan of her name, his spend smearing over his knuckles. 

Maybe it’s the fact that it’s been nearly a month now, or maybe he’s just more tired than usual, but Joel feels a particular pang of despair as he cleans himself up, and it’s enough to crack whatever resolve he had left. 

He sleeps better that night, having decided that first thing the next morning he’s going to stop by the apothecary and he’s going to tell her that he’s done taking it slow. 

That plan falls apart the moment he enters her shop. The first thing he notices is her bag, strewn out on the floor, a few jars and bottles spilling out of it, and his heart sinks. Next to Stevie, that bag is her baby, and Joel immediately knows that something isn’t right for it to be crumpled on the floor. 

He calls out her name, but gets no response, though Stevie comes skittering out of the back room, making a beeline for his legs, frantically mewling as she rubs up against his pants leg, insistent and loud, and that isn’t quite right to him either. 

Trying not to step on Stevie as she stays glued to his ankles, he shuffles into the back room, his brow scrunching up when he doesn’t see her, at least not right away.

“Joel?” That’s a voice he’s never heard from her before, barely there, hoarse, like she could only just get the word out. He steps further into the room, peering around the butcher’s block, and that’s when he finally sees her. 

She’s curled in on herself, knees up to her chin, sitting in the back corner of the room. Her eyes are red-rimmed and swimming, tears streaking down her cheeks, the sight all but taking his breath away. He moves fast, his mind screaming at him that he needs to fix it, to make it better, whatever it is. 

He’s quick to get down to her level, palms steadying her jaw as another resounding round of sobs rolls through her chest. 

“Hey, hey– it’s ok, I’m here, huh? I’m right here. What– what happened? What is it?” His questions only seem to make her cry harder, shaking her head in his hands. She brings her hands to clasp his wrists, and it’s then that he notices dried blood lining her fingernails.

“You’re scaring me here, darlin. I need you to tell me what happened, please.” 

“I lo-lost her– I lost her, I lost her, I can’t believe I lost her–” She breaks herself off with another sob, and Joel shifts to sit down next to her, wrapping his arms around her shuddering shoulders to coax her into his chest. 

“Who– who’d you lose, darlin?” She evens out her shuddering breaths with a hard sigh, her answer coming on a few disjointed exhales.

“Maura went into labor last night– and I– and I– it was a girl– she was a girl– and she wasn’t breathing– she wasn’t breathing, Joel. And I didn’t know what to do.” She dissolves into another sob, and Joel doesn’t know what to do besides hold her a little closer, shock and sadness simmering in his veins. He remembers her telling him about Maura, one of her regular house visits to check on the progress of her pregnancy. She always told him how excited the woman seemed to get to become a mother. 

“Is– is Maura ok?” He’s surprised by the bitter huff she lets out at that.

“I don’t kn-know. She kicked me out– told me it was my fault– she’s right– it’s all my– all my fault.” He’s quick to bring his palm to her jaw, coaxing her eyes up to meet his, gentle but firm pressure holding her there.

“Listen to me, it is not your fault. Not anyone’s fault, and it’s especially not yours. Whatever happened, I promise you, it is not your fault, do you understand?” She gives him no answer, just lets out another shaky sigh before burying her face back in his chest.

And all he can do is hold her as close as he can, and will some of her pain to seep into his skin, to make it even a little more bearable, to carry that for her. He reckons that he’d take it all away from her if he could.

................................

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[raineandsky]

#86

Being a hero is stressful. That much is common knowledge. How a hero goes about unwinding from said stress is a mystery no one has yet figured out.

The hero settles in one of the little chairs in the circle. The man next to her gives her a light nudge. “Let’s see what you made this week, then.”

The hero reaches into her bag to show off her latest stress relief—a giant blanket, knitted in the downtime between jobs, sporting a rainbow of colours in bright streaks across its face. Everyone oohs and ahhs appropriately before the rest of the circle gets to showing off their own creations.

It’s been nice to have a place that isn’t entirely consumed by work, the hero thinks as she nods approvingly at someone’s mug cosy. No worrying about tomorrow, no wondering where the villains might be.

Her gaze flits to the next person in line to show something off, and her heart momentarily stops as she meets her eye. At least she doesn’t have to worry about the latter of her thoughts right now.

What the hell is the villain doing at the hero’s weekly knitting club?

“Go on,” the woman next to the villain prompts. The villain huffs and makes a show of it, but she pulls out a cardigan with a ghost of a pleased smirk.

The hero only realised why she’s so self-satisfied when she catches herself gaping in awe. The villain’s little cardigan is elaborate in pattern, swooping waves lining its shoulders. The yarns meld together in a perfect cacophony of colour. It’s amazing, more amazing than anything the hero could do.

The villain soaks in the praise with a humble nod before setting her gaze on the hero. It probably looks hopeful to anyone else, but the hero can see the glitter of arrogance in her eye. Go on, the villain’s practically saying, tell me how great I am.

“It’s nice,” the hero says through gritted teeth, and the villain’s smile turns humoured.

The hero can’t leave fast enough. Everyone else is packing their projects away. The hero’s blanket gets folded thankfully easily and she’s out the door before anyone can stop her.

Fine. A new project. Something to advance her skills and show the villain that she’s not the hot shit she thinks she is.

It takes all week. The hero holds her jumper up to show the group. The villain raises her eyebrows from across the circle.

“Inspired by another knitter here,” the hero says with what could almost be sarcasm, and the villain snorts a poorly contained laugh.

The villain shows off her creation. A pair of mittens, the patterns lacy and the colours bright. The hero scowls. Pissed doesn’t describe the feeling.

Next week. A layered scarf from the hero. The villain wins everyone’s affections with a tiny knitted elephant. “For my niece’s birthday,” the villain says innocently. “She loves them.”

Leaving is becoming more of a race with each passing week. “Keep trying,” the villain comments brightly before the hero can escape. “You’ve plenty of room to improve.”

The hero considers strangling the villain with her scarf.

The hero settles at her computer that evening with a scowl and a cup of hot chocolate, mentally prepared to prowl the internet for several hours for ideas on how to one-up the villain. It’s madness. She’s meant to be out there kicking the villain’s ass, and here she is trying to out-knit her.

It’s been three weeks, and she’s only just realising that her stress-relieving hobby is suddenly a lot more stress-inducing.

“Fuck,” she hisses outloud, and she momentarily considers the idea of knitting the word into a coaster for the villain too.

[jttw-m0nkehs1mp]

Yo, so I have decided to hop in on the writing community for the silly monkey man, Wukong.

My brand new obsession/hyperfixation, idc what the judgemental peeps gotta say cause I am down BAD for this lil' fucker.

Anyway, enough of that, I believe a formal introduction is due-

Okay so, y'all can call me Rumi, I am 20 years old and have just recently joined the Fandom of Journey To The West. I have not yet read the book, but I have the audio book ready and waiting for me.

As you can see on my pfp, I am a fan of Lego Monkie Kid, but at the current moment, I have not yet completed the series. Dw tho, I am slowly progressing to the end.

I like to write and I will drabble some x reader stuff on here for y'all thirsty asses(I am thirsty asses) and I hope you guys will enjoy what I have to offer. My pronouns are she/her but they/them are also cool👍

Now, for my writing...

I am not someone who rlly takes requests. I wrote some stuff before, accepting requests and whatnot, but the sheer amount became overwhelming and quite stressful, which burnt me out. A request or two(or three) is a-okay for me tho.

Share me your ideas!! A drabble is what I enjoy the most and I won't mind making headcannons either, those are quite fun.

Long stories are something I have not yet experimented with, so I don't think I would he making any soon due to my waning motivation levels. A one-shot would probably the most common thing to find here.

Speaking of motivation, I probably won't post a lot, and might dissapear for months on end. I am not dead, I assure you that.

My writing style would probably be prompts or drabbles and the occasional headcanon or two. Long stories will be rare, if not non-existent. I leave those to the more motivated and clearly more talented authors out there.

!English is not my first language! So expect some grammar mistakes or whatever

Who will I write for??

Good question, me! Well let's see here...

Black Myth: Wukong

- Destined one

- Sun Wukong

- Erlang Shen

(Any other fellas u want here if u wanna request)

Lego Monkie Kid:

-Sun Wukong

-Macaque

- Red son <33 (I love him, my child, my baby, my precious)

- Nezha

Any other fella u want me to add, I can't remember the main cast all that much💀

- MK

- Mei

Will I write NSFW? Yes, yes I will

I am unsure if I will be able to capture the characters of the og content, and my knowledge may be limited. If I write something a bit ooc or you got some writing tips, please, by all means give then to me🙏

Anyways I kinda forgot what I wanted to say next so byeeeeee🏢🤸‍♀️

[kyuushi]

I present (🎁) the character relationship chart from the first official fanbook! Big thanks to Pancake from the Kyuushi Discord server for the scans 🫶

The translation, cleaning, and typesetting were all done by me so please forgive any messiness & mistakes. But I'm always very open to feedback so feel free to reach out, especially if you notice tl issues!

Please don't repost the image around. You can just share the link to this post! (If I end up needing to make corrections, I will cry if an old incorrect version is floating around somewhere!!)

↓Some extra notes below the cut↓

****

I originally wanted to post this along with a more accessible version (aka text version) but unfortunately that would be a ton of extra work and I have other projects I'd like to spend my time on instead. I'm also not really knowledgeable about that stuff to begin with so I'm not sure what kind of format would be best for screen readers or other accessibility aids. If anyone else would like to take up the mantle and create a text version, please message me!

****

Translation Notes:

Mippiki: Written "３人と１匹" but read as "みっぴき," this word is very important to the Kyuushi fandom! It describes the main characters living in the office- Rona, Draluc, Hinaichi, and John. "Mi" comes from 3 and "ippiki" is how you would count 1 small animal, an armadillo in this case.

Sagyou's "hah? to respect ratio": The "hah?" here is like an exasperated sound he's making. In Japanese it was one of these babies: ぁ゙. So his frustration to respect ratio is 9 to 1.

Calling someone a typhoon/hurricane: I think this is probably self explanatory but since I don't think this is a common expression in English, I'll explain a bit. Basically it's likening someone to the chaos and power of a storm.

Shot's "filthy cool": In Japanese this is "ヨゴレかっこいい." I can't find instances of this phrase being used outside of Kyuushi so this seems to be a Bonnoki original? I've seen others tl this some different ways but I tried to make it sound kinda cool in English, though it also kinda makes no sense lol, sorry.

Tabiko being in the "vampires" section: Just in case anyone is confused, Tabiko is definitely a human. I think there just wasn't space to stick her anywhere else.

Manner calling Satetsu "big bro": "兄イ" in Japanese. I think most people recognize words like "onii-san" and "aniki" at this point but I'm not sure about just "anii" (also big brother) so I decided to tl it here. As you may have guessed, this is not him literally trying to adopt Satetsu as his brother, but rather a term of respect (albeit a teasing one). Satetsu is uncomfortable being called this, mostly because it reminds him of his embarrassing delinquent past.

Nagiri's nickname for John: I chose to keep this as "Maru" ("丸," literally "circle") just because I think it sounds like a cute nickname lol.

Fiasco calling Manner "spoiled rich boy": Originally "ボンボン" in Japanese. You might have heard a character called "bon" or even this kinda insulting version, "bonbon," before. It describes a young man from a rich family. I added "spoiled" because I thought it sounded too much like a complement just to call him "genius rich boy," even with "damn" in front 😂

Nuyan: John's "nu" combined with a dog's "wan" (bark). Remember that time Yomo hypnotized John into acting like a dog? That John never fully recovered from? Yeah.

****

As I said please do let me know if you spot any mistakes or have any questions or comments. You can even ask if you're just confused about who certain characters are or what the relationship arrow is indicating! Kyuushi has a ton of characters and they can be difficult to keep track of, especially for the English fandom which doesn't have access to all the materials.

Thanks if you actually read all of these walls of text 🫡

[tornoleander]

How Nahdakan is written weirdly predatory (Sorta Essay)

TW: Discussion of sexual predators and their behavior this might get rough.

(If I’m missing any content warnings please let me know. Please check if you are ok to hear this before reading. Though knowing signs of predators can be helpful. Will warn you this might ruin his character for you)

You absolutely can Ignore this aspect of him and love him as a villain! Don’t be guilty, It’s fiction you’re allowed to do that! (Please don’t attack anyone who likes him)

However If you’re like me this may explain some of your repressed Skybound feelings.

Nadakhan always unsettled me, even back when I was 12 and watched it for the first time. I loved Skybound then, even though the wishes didn’t make sense and the misogyny pissed me off (still dose). But I’ve rewatched it quite a bit, and as an adult know exactly why It made me feel like that.

Nahdakan as he is in the show displays many signs of being a sexual predator. (Not just cause Nya). And in my opinion they should have written him differently.

It might sound like a surprising allegation at first but to many adults I know in the fandom, It’s not much of a hot take. But I wanted to compile the evidence in one place so I wouldn’t have to reexplain this.

What’s a Predator?

A sexual predator is a person who seeks out sexual contact with another person in a predatory or abusive manner. People who are sexual predators may or may not have committed sex crimes but all sexual predators have sought out inappropriate contact.

Those who exploit others in a sexual manner they see sex as a form of dominance and control.

Vile enough to make someone wish it all away.

Now I’m not saying Nadakhan definitely did something or he’s for sure a predator. But I am saying for some reason he displays common traits of these kinds of people.

Seeks Out Vulnerable Individuals:

Profiling suggests sexual predators often target vulnerable individuals who are more likely to be victimized or overcome due to their age, lack of knowledge, or emotional or mental capacity.

This is the very talked about part but Nya is 15-17 Jay and the ninja are vaguely 16-18. Nadakhan is like thousands of years old. Which makes the plot creepy. But other than the fact that he’s messing with teenagers he preys on their emotional vulnerability.

Think of the first scene with him and Jay. He watches from afar Nya was alone too but he saw how hurt Jay was and targeted him.

Same thing later, when he was distressed about being adopted.

Grooming Behavior:

A predator may seek to groom the person by establishing their trust to facilitate abuse, such as spending excessive time with them or singling them out, or giving gifts.

All of Nahdakan’s kindness is a trap, He talks about his wishes like he’s giving them something and helping them. He is with the ninja as soon as and as long as they’re alone.

Speaking about himself in terms of what he can gift others. Obviously leaving out the wishes consequences.

Evasion and Secrecy:

On the topic of singling them out, sexual predators will often hide their actions and keep it private to not revealing their activity.

Nadakhan waits till they are alone to prey on them. Or teleports the ninja away like he did with Kai.

After Nahdakan gives Jay his wishes he doesn’t tell anyone. His guilt and shame from accepting Nadakhan’s offer keeps their secret. (Just so you know if an old man pulls you aside and starts gifting you shit tell someone.)

And Nahdakan doesn’t talk to his crew about his plans for Nya at all, he keeps it to himself.

Manipulative and Controlling:

Sexual predators use their personalities to flatter, course, and control others around them and utilize deception. Predators may insult victim and use gaslighting tactics to make them believe that they are at fault.

This one is very straightforward manipulation is his thing. But here’s a few.

- Manipulates Jay into making his first and second wish

- Manipulates Kai and Zane into his blade

- Expresses very controlling behavior over Jay as his prisoner.

- And grossly controlling of Nya Literally with magic later on.

Sadism

As a quick note Nadakhan messes with Jay a lot and seems delighted by his suffering. From physically, trying to intimidate, jumping out to scare him, causing emotional harm to just straight up torture in scrap n tap. And he’s SO pleased by it.

Ignoring Physical Boundaries

Sexual Predators overstep boundaries, this may be seen as a harmless touch on the back, hand, or leg. But it can progress to unwelcome contact and unwanted sexual advances.

THIS is the most obvious and damning evidence I have. He Does NOT respect personal space. The Djinn’s so fucking touchy it makes me nauseous. Here’s some examples but his body language during all his scenes is like this.

“Too slow Junkyard boy”

On top of that he like explicitly doesn’t care about consent.

First, the ending of the episode, where he leans in to kiss Nya. Something she obviously would not agree to EWW what the fuck Ninjago then this.

“If you want come willingly , Nya-

So yeah, the way Nadakhan behaved and was written in the show is not OK.  Watch Skybound with what I said in mind and you’ll see what I mean.

Nadakhan doesn’t actually do anything I hear you.  but this kinda behavior is already too much.

I also wouldn’t be so sure he did nothing, unfortunately, I have some evidence here.  so I’m working on a sorta part two to this post with the captains quarters theory part.

[once-in-a-blood-moon]

Jo Explains with Tarot : Solomon's Unforgettable Past

Incoming long winded explanation/analyzation about the Festival of Flowers from Solomon's "Unforgettable Past" Devilgram, but doing it with tarot cards. So, spoilers ahead and lots of nonsense beyond this point if this isn't your thing :) I broke this into sections so it'd be easier to read...hopefully.

Please note: these are my interpretations of the cards. Your interpretations may be different, and that's okay! That's great even. That just means there's more to learn from the cards than just one perspective. So neither of us are wrong, we just see things in different ways. Don't be afraid to expand with your own thoughts if you want!

So, I realized something recently. One of the days on the Obey Me calendar was the Devildom Flower Festival, held annually on June 20th. And I think it's safe to say it's the same festival you visit with Solomon in his card "Unforgettable Past."

In that, he explains the war the Devildom commemorates every year and the legend behind it. The timespan of the war was 7 days. So...from June 20th (not counting it) we'd see that the war started on June 13th.

Why does any of this matter? Well, it probably doesn't to anyone but me, but here I'm going to explain the significance of those dates with...tarot cards!

How this works is how you would calculate your personal birth cards. It's really simple. Just add up all the numbers in the date, but not before making each digit a single digit, to get your results. Usually you get two cards, though there are special instances where some might get three, but's not as common. (I'll use a random date as an example: 8/10/1983 - 8+1+0+1+9+8+3 = 30. There's only 21 major arcana cards that are applicable, so you'd break the 30 down as well to get 3 - the Empress. To get the second card from 3, you use what adds to make 3 which would be 1+2, put those together and you get 12 - the Hanged Man. It's kind of like the reversal of what we did to get the first card. I hope I explained that well enough.

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June 13th

With that out of the way, let's start with June 13, 6/13. This would give us 10. The tenth card in the major arcana is the Wheel of Fortune. Break down 10, and we get 1. The first card of the major arcana (ignoring the Fool since it's the zeroth card) is, ironically, the Magician.

The Magician card focuses on what you already have and expanding on those skills. Pictured in the card, there is one of each suit from the minor arcana laying on a table (one wand, cup, sword, and pentacle). Those represent the ace cards of those suits, which usually indicate beginnings or starting points. Essentially, the Magician already has novice level skills to help him navigate through his journeys, and as he experiences more his knowledge will grow and he'll "collect" more of each suit. He's an innovator, a go-getter, and as long as he keeps his head on his shoulders and doesn't get ahead of himself, he'll progress just fine. Also pictured is the Magician holding a candle in the air while pointing downwards with his free hand. To me, this could represent a guiding light, a symbol of the fifth element: spirit (as above, so below), a eureka! moment (the lightbulb over someone's head), or that he's declaring his own start - like charging into something with vigor. He's also got an infinity sign above his head, but that'll come in later...

The Wheel of Fortune focuses on chance and opportunity. Sometimes it's an indication of reigning in a new future or era, whether it's within our personal lives or seeing it unfold through society. A few things to note in the illustration is the little red guy??, the sphinx, and the snake surrounding the wheel. To me, I see the red guy kind of fox-like, or even devilish. Regardless, he's sneaky, cunning, willing to take risks to see himself come out at the top in the end. The sphinx is holding a sword, reminding me of the Justice card, or the suit of swords. The sphinx is logical, wielding rationale as a weapon should taking the risk turn to be less than ideal or difficult. A sharp intellect, if you will. And the snake, to me, represents the temptation of wanting to go along with something for the sake of knowledge or curiosity. There's also the three animals and one angel in the corners of the card, but I won't go into detail on them for the sake of brevity. But to me, they represent higher wisdom, or that the fate of the wheel is divinely guided.

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According to his Devilgram story, he'd spoken to a demon in the human realm, which sparked the brazen idea that he could convince the Demon King and his citizens to work under him. It was an opportunity, a risk he was willing to take if it meant a more favorable fate/outcome for the human realm. Obviously, Solomon thought that he had what it took to get the king to see reason, whether it be through charm and wit alone, or through more brutal means. By that point, he was already able to subjugate demons to his will, so why not go father when the opportunity presents itself? Perhaps even doing so to test his own strength and power.

So, he had the skill, he had the charisma, but he also had the arrogance of the Magician in reverse. All he had to do was take matters into his own hands for the sake of "furthering human kind's development," find an opening, show just how powerful humans could be, and strike. And he struck hard. Solomon took his risk and fought with everything he had in him. Alone. That day, he held the destiny of the human realm in his hands.

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June 20th

Onto the eighth day, June 20, 6/20. Adding this gives us 8, which is the eighth card - Strength. And then 1+7 = 8, so put those together to get the number 17 - the Star.

The Strength card is just about that: strength. Strength doesn't have to be physical. More often than not, our inner courage defines our true strength. In this card, we see a woman who looks to be petting a lion. Whether she's attempting to befriend him or trying to soothe him, she's showing great bravery by approaching the situation with calmness and gentility. In the face of what could be a problematic situation, if not dealt with swiftly/correctly, this card reminds us that we have the option to fight with fearlessness, approach with a silent confidence, or we can choose to walk away altogether. Then that leads us to either being the bigger person or being cowardly, depending on the issue at hand. So, remember I mentioned the infinity symbol above the Magician's head? The lady in this card has one above her head as well. This, to me, is a call back that we have the skills to handle any problem that arises. We are equipped with strength and courage and any learned tricks we may have up our sleeve to give us the upper hand.

The Star is one of the more positive cards in the tarot deck (aside from the Sun of course). Maybe uplifting is a better way to describe it. This card holds hope for a brighter future, a better tomorrow. The Star reminds us that it's okay to heal, breathe, and wish upon hope that things can get better. The sky is the limit. In this illustration, there's a woman pouring water back into what looks to be a river with her foot hovering over it. It's almost like she'd lost hope to the cruelty of life, but she's ready try again and slowly dip her toes back in. She's allowing herself time to do so, reflecting on why she wants to and why she's ready, like affirmations. The ripples in the water remind me of both the ripple effect and of manifestations. By taking the initiative, good things may come her way or she may make change within the world around her. Also, in her other hand she's got another pitcher that's pouring out water onto the ground. We can take this either that she's unknowingly nurturing something in the midst of her finding herself, or that by enveloping herself in this new hope, she's actively pouring out the old.

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On the eighth day, Solomon vanishes, ultimately putting a stop to the fighting. What led up to this decision, we don't know. Although, you can ask Solomon if "the sorcerer" just threw in the towel, to which he stills for a moment, almost as if he were offended or caught of guard by our question. He doesn't elaborate on that further, only responding with- "maybe. We'll never know for sure." It's telling that to him it obviously wasn't a matter of giving up. There was more at stake than just his pride or lust for power. And he made the decision to walk away when he probably could've went on for much longer.

And why would he leave a field of flowers as a "parting gift" if it meant nothing? He's a pretty cryptic guy, after all. But again, we don't know why exactly he did so. It could've been a promise that humanity would further on its own and they'd one day see he was right. Maybe it was the hope that the realms could coincide someday and that he recognized the Devildom's power. Or simply, it was his version of a "white flag." No matter what he originally meant by them, the flowers would go on to be the focus of the festival to commemorate the Devildom's victory. In Solomon's words, "it's a day to hope for peace and prosperity throughout the land."