#not going to make the attempt to tag everyone

[deathbxnny]

hey i was wondering if you could do how arcane characters would react to seeing their partner looking really good dressed up?? also i love ur writing!!

Arcane characters reacting to their s/o dressed up really pretty. | Vi, Ekko, Jinx x Gn!Reader

Thank you for the request, Anon, and I hope you'll enjoy this!!<3

Content: Established romantic relationships, fluff, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns.

((Not proofread))

》VI

"Ooh... where are we going?" A wide grin rested on her lips as she watched you put on your fancy shoes and straighten out the last details of your pretty attire. "I'm going out with a couple friends." In other words, she was not invited. But Vi couldn't hear you over the sound of her mind spinning with many different thoughts.

Humming, she leaned against a wall next to you, intensely dark eyes staring you down with a glint that made you shake your head in defiance. "No." "Oh come on, Cupcake! Do you really have to go out today? I mean... I can go along. It's dangerous around this time of the night and-" "-Viiii. I can take care of myself." She pouted at your clear disagreement, hardly attempting to even hide how much she loved the way you looked.

"Aw... please? At least let me tag alone so I can show you off to everyone." Typical. And yet, you had a hard time denying her anything when her hands suddenly sneaked around your waist so smoothly. She always got what she wanted out of you in the end. Not that you necessarily minded.

"Fineeee... but keep your hands to yourself around them." You huff out whilst your heart warmed a t the sight of pure excitement on her face. But the slyness in her smirk didn't leave as she gratefully kissed your cheek and let go. "Can't promise you that when you're looking so good, unfortunately... but I'll try. For now."

Rolling your eyes with a smile, you let her happily run off to get ready, glad that she enjoyed your outfit a lot.

》EKKO

He was stunned at the sight of you emerging from the bedroom, fully dressed up so beautifully it left him speechless. The Firelights were having a huge festival in celebration of a recent successful mission, and of course, you were both expected to look your best. And you weren't the type to ever disappoint either.

It was rare to see you dressed up so nicely, the cute outfit being one he had only seen a small couple of times before due to your line of work and life circumstances. But in his mind, you looking so good was a sign of success. He wanted you to be able to dress that way every day, perhaps another motivation of his to continue going.

"How do I look?" You ask, the nervous tone in your voice making his eyes soften even further. "You look great. Who are you trying to impress, hm?" His words were playful as he grabbed your waist carefully. Ekko mirrored the shy smile that crept onto your lips at his question. "A certain someone. I don't think you know him, though." You played along, watching as he raised a brow with an unimpressed smirk.

"Hm... maybe we shouldn't go out then-" "-Oi! Why are you guys taking so long? Let's get going." Scar's voice made you both jump, as he appeared in the doorway and waved you over. A sly smirk crept onto your face as you quickly followed after the man. "Ah, there he is! See ya around, Ekko!" "Hey! I'll remember this-!" Running after you two, he couldn't help but laugh a little.

The festival was going to be great, to say the least.

》JINX

You were just trying out some new clothes you had gotten. Nothing special and definitely not for anyone else's eyes, except for hers. Once you were done, you were quick to hunt down your girlfriend to show her your outfit. "Jinx! How do I look?" You asked, a happy smile on your lips as you now stood next to her, whilst she tinkered away on some projects. Removing her googles, she glanced up at you and blinked in surprise, near speechless for a moment.

Nervously shifting under her intense gaze, you wondered if she didn't like it. "Uhm... should I go change or-" "-You look really good..." She muttered thoughtfully before a large grin crept onto her lips mischievously. "A bit too good! Makes me nearly jealous, pretty. How about you dress me up too so we can match?" You should have honestly seen this coming, as she enjoys doing cute things like that with you.

And so, you did as she asked, whilst she painted your nails to match her own. By the end of it, you looked like you were headed to a fancy event, something she found greatly amusing. Kicking a nearby radio to make it play music, she held out her hand to you with a bright smile. "Alright, let's get this party started!"

[ginnsbaker]

All Of Your Pieces (3 - The Neighbor)

Chapter Summary: Agnes sees the perfect opportunity to stir up some trouble while Wanda deals with her jealousy toward your work assistant, Geraldine. Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Female Reader Chapter word count: 2.8k+ | Chapter Tags/Warnings: None

A/N: I really have nothing to say except that I enjoyed writing Agatha in this chapter // More author's notes here.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

The team has been at a standstill, figuring out who’s behind this, or how to communicate with anyone trapped inside the town. Every drone they've sent in morphs into something entirely different, thwarting their efforts to gather any useful intel. The people sent underground to scout a safe route through have gone dark, their communication cut off. No one else volunteered to attempt approaching the perimeter after that.

The broadcasts they've been tracking are erratic, cutting out for hours with no warning, making it hard to keep a consistent eye on the town's odd behaviors. But it's during one of these quiet periods when something clicks in Darcy's mind.

“I think I have something,” Darcy blurts out to Jimmy. They’ve been scraping the bottom of the barrel, running out of faces to identify from the snippets of life in Westview they caught on screen. 

“Yeah?” Jimmy gives her a tired look, only half-listening. He can't remember the last time he managed more than an hour of uninterrupted sleep. Even if he could find the time to rest, the bizarre situation they're in won't let his mind relax. 

Darcy sighs and leads him outside the tent.

“So, you’ve seen that radio on Wanda’s kitchen counter, right?”

Jimmy only nods.

Darcy continues, “The next time she’s washing dishes, or whatever—which by my count—happens about once an episode, barf, we’ll shoot a signal to that little guy.” She leads him to a set of computers set up behind a pickup truck. Jimmy doesn’t understand what’s going on with these systems, but he’s hoping Darcy really is onto something.

“This transmitter will mimic the frequency of the broadcast,” she pauses to catch her breath in the cold and to give him time to catch up with her science. “And if my theory is right, it will allow us to speak to her.”

She cuts off any chance for Jimmy to comment and assures him, “This is definitely going to work.”

–

The annual Westview Harvest Festival is in full swing. The town square is packed with booths overflowing with baked goods and fresh fall produce. A small stage is set up for the local band playing tunes from the 70s, while kids dart around in all directions, their faces painted with fanciful designs. Billy and Tommy are with their preschool teachers, who are keeping them and other children their age occupied with arts and crafts that involve tumbleweeds—a material no one seems to think is entirely safe for five-year-olds to play with.

In hindsight, it’s the ideal setting for introductions and mingling. However, everyone here already knows each other—everyone, that is, except for Wanda. She makes an effort to blend in, but apart from a few interactions with the planning committee, which weren’t particularly fruitful, she often remains secluded at home. This makes you, the only one in the household who heads out daily for work, the more socially connected of the two. It’s both amusing and slightly anxiety-inducing to watch you interact with the townsfolk who are essentially strangers to you and to Wanda, if only you knew. You and Wanda never had the opportunity to live a normal life, to settle in a typical city, surrounded by neighbors who could have become integral to the life you might have built together. 

Seeing you interact with these people, she’s realizing it’s harder than she thought to share you with others. Or maybe she’s just as selfish as she’s always been, never really outgrowing it. When you were both part of the Avengers, it was like living in a bubble, surrounded by only a few familiar faces every day. Now, outside that controlled environment, it’s challenging her expectations and stirring up feelings she thought she had under control.

It becomes particularly tough when she sees Geraldine heading towards you, sporting that perpetual, dazzling smile full of perfect white teeth. Wanda's fingers curl into a fist, tiny wisps of red energy leaking from them. You quickly cover her hand with yours, and the effect is immediate—she relaxes slightly, letting you intertwine your fingers with hers, anchoring herself by your side where she feels secure.

“It's so nice to see you outside of the office, just being one of us for a change,” Geraldine says, though she seems to be wearing the same uniform as at work. Not that you're judging, but it does make you wonder why she hasn't changed.

“Definitely beats being stuck behind a desk,” you reply, your attention briefly wandering. Only then do you notice that Wanda has subtly withdrawn her hand from yours, now exploring a booth with homemade apple cider. You hadn't even noticed the exact moment she let go.

“Hello, Wanda!” Geraldine greets her warmly. 

Wanda musters a tight-lipped smile that’s convincing enough, as Geraldine appears quite taken with it. Just then, Geraldine spots Agnes standing a little away from the crowd, lingering behind Wanda with a look that borders on suspicion or disdain. 

Geraldine steps up to her while Wanda continues to busy herself with whatever else is being showcased in the booth. “Hi, I'm Geraldine. Isn’t this a wonderful evening?” She extends her hand to Agnes.

Agnes eyes the offered hand but doesn’t accept it. Instead, she sizes up Geraldine with a quick once-over and nods, foregoing any introductions. Geraldine's smile falters briefly, but she quickly shakes off the slight, tossing a brisk, “See you around, Y/N!” over her shoulder as she heads back to her table.

You wave back and let out a sigh, relieved that you’ve just sidestepped what could have been the most awkward moment of your life. Wanda’s jealousy towards Geraldine seems more serious than you’d realized. You know Wanda can be possessive; it's just been a long time since it's manifested this way. But then, it's also been a while since you've both been in a crowd of strangers like this. Since…

Since when, exactly?

“Y/N, honey?” Wanda’s voice snaps you out of your fog.

You blink. “Hm?”

“I’m thirsty.”

Just like that, you’ve forgotten about your lapse of memory, replaced by a desire to tend to your wife's needs.

“I’ll get us some refreshments. What would you like?” you ask.

“Just some water, please.”

“Water here, too,” Agnes calls out, unsolicited. 

You suppress the urge to roll your eyes. It's great that Wanda's making friends in the neighborhood, but did it really have to be Agnes O’Connor? Ever since you and Wanda moved into this quiet suburb, Agnes has made it her personal mission to be involved in every aspect of your lives. You can’t shake the feeling that there’s more to it than the apparent nosiness of your neighbor.

As you head over to get the drinks, Agnes sidles up to Wanda, her eyes gleaming with an opportunity to stir some pot. 

“Geraldine seems quite taken with your wife.”

It’s not like Wanda doesn’t know what Agnes’s doing, but she finds herself nodding in agreement anyway. Your new assistant does appear smitten with you, and while Wanda gets the appeal—you are, undeniably, crush-worthy—she can't say she's thrilled about it.

“Y/N is her boss,” Wanda murmurs, more to herself than to Agnes.

“Oh, honey,” Agnes laughs condescendingly. “Do you even go to the movies? That's how the steamiest affairs start, you know.”

Wanda bristles at the sound of that endearment from someone other than you. But she keeps herself together—barely. 

“I trust her,” Wanda forces out.

As you're getting drinks, Geraldine joins you, picking up a soda herself. She lets out a light laugh at a joke from the bartender, and you find yourself chuckling too, oblivious to the piercing look your wife is drilling into your back.

Meanwhile, Agnes sees her opening and swoops in, linking her arm through Wanda's with a bit more force than necessary. 

“Of course, you trust her, dear,” she murmurs right by Wanda's ear. “But do you trust her?” She points subtly with her chin towards Geraldine, her lips pursed. “You know what they say, keep your friends close, and your enemies closer…”

Wanda's shoulders tense, her entire frame stiffening. As you return with the drinks, Agnes steps away, leaving Wanda visibly shaken, like she’s teetering on the edge of a panic attack.

“Everything okay?” you ask, handing her a drink. You've noticed before how Wanda's demeanor changes around Agnes; she’s clearly a source of stress for her. It’s going to be a difficult conversation, but it might be time to tell Wanda what you really think about the neighbor.

Wanda takes the water you offer, her fingers trembling slightly as she does. For a moment, she appears distant, disengaged, as if her mind is elsewhere. Then, with a sudden shift, she flashes you one of those smiles that sends a shiver down your spine.

“I'm fine,” she declares, a little too brightly. Then, seemingly out of the blue, she asks, “Is Geraldine here with someone?”

You stop short, realizing you really don't know much about Geraldine beyond work. “I didn’t see her with anyone,” you say.

Wanda nods thoughtfully. Her next suggestion catches you by surprise. 

“Maybe you should invite her over to our table.”

Did you hear that correctly? Had Wanda just done a complete 180 regarding your assistant and was now interested in getting to know her? You shoot a suspicious glance at Agnes. Had she said something to Wanda to change her mind?

“Are you sure?” you ask, puzzled by her abrupt change of heart.

“I am,” Wanda affirms. “It might be nice to make a new friend.”

–

Back at the response camp, Darcy and Jimmy are huddled around the small, grainy television, waiting for the moment Wanda’s in her kitchen so they can send a message through her radio device. However, the usual domestic scenes are conspicuously absent, replaced by static and sporadic cuts to the ongoing Harvest Festival.

“Come on, come on,” Darcy mutters under her breath, shoving her glasses back up her nose. They've been slipping a lot lately, probably because she's been hunching over her work more than usual these past few days.

“It's this festival,” Jimmy says, squinting at the screen. “I think the whole town's out there tonight. I don’t think we’re going to get the chance.”

Their attempts to contact anyone inside the Hex are dwindling, and Hayward's interest leans more towards studying the energy barrier encasing the town rather than resolving the anomaly itself. His latest directive to launch another drone into the barrier feels like a brute force attempt to crack the problem. Jimmy thinks it’s a waste of time—and resources.

“Yeah, and you know what’s worse?” Darcy grumbles. “I have a bad feeling about Agnes. Every time she's around, things just seem to... escalate.”

As they watch, the screen cuts to a shot of Agnes at the festival, linking arms with Wanda, whispering something that makes Wanda’s expression tighten. “See, what did I tell you?” Darcy exclaims, pointing at the screen. “Who’s this Agnes again in real life?” she asks.

Jimmy swivels in his chair, his gaze sweeping across the expansive pinboard filled with photos of Westview residents. Agnes’s face is not among them. 

“No idea,” he says flatly. He had already run a search in the database, but it came back empty.

“So, we've identified Y/N, Monica, and Agnes as outsiders in Westview,” Darcy explains, tallying them off on her fingers. 

“That’s correct,” Jimmy confirms.

“And then there’s Wanda’s sons. But again… we haven’t seen any other children in the show besides the twins.”

Jimmy thinks about it for a while. It had never really occurred to him before. “Maybe they’re bound to show up at some point?”

“Smells fishy to me,” Darcy huffs. Her thoughts circle back to Agnes. “How do you think Agnes ended up here?” she asks, their list of unanswered questions growing daily.

Jimmy shrugs. “She could’ve just been visiting.”

Darcy considers it. It's a possibility, but somehow, it doesn't feel quite right—too simple, too convenient for someone as vibrant and prickly as the character Agnes portrays.

–

It's as if Wanda's animosity toward Geraldine just magically went away. 

They’ve been chatting for almost an hour. Initially, Wanda made sure to include you in the conversation, but as time passed, she and Geraldine started connecting over topics that didn’t involve you as much. Feeling somewhat left out but also at ease that the problem between your wife and your secretary has apparently resolved itself, you decide to check out the festival booths.

This is where Agnes finds the perfect opportunity to get you alone. She starts her approach—to your surprise and discomfort—by acknowledging the elephant in the room.

“I know you don’t like me very much,” she says with a knowing smile. “Maybe we can change that tonight?”

You eye her with suspicion, easily seeing through her blatant attempts to flirt her way into your good graces.

“How exactly are we going to do that?” you ask, crossing your arms in front of you.

Agnes simply laughs off the cool reception you’ve given her. If anything, she revels in it. 

“By getting to know each other, obviously,” she says.

“Right.”

She takes your elbow, and you swear she can feel you recoil at her closeness, yet she doesn’t seem to care. She urges you forward, dictating the pace. Her grip is unexpectedly firm, as if to say you have no choice but to listen—like leaving isn't an option.

With you literally in her grasp, Agnes sets her plans into motion. “So, how did you and Wanda meet?” she asks.

You deliver the narrative precisely as it plays out in your memory, exactly as Wanda implanted it in your mind. “We grew up next to each other. Best friends since we were kids.” 

“How cute,” she says, in that smooth, supercilious tone that usually makes your skin crawl. But this time, with the memories of Wanda filling your head, you hardly notice.

“Yeah, I remember when I first saw her,” you continue, gazing into the distance as if the scene you speak of is right there before your eyes. “It was almost Halloween, and my mom had baked a pumpkin pie to welcome them to the neighborhood. She sent me to deliver it. Wanda answered the door.”

“Love at first sight?”

“More like the opposite,” you say, throwing Agnes a good-natured smile, something you’ve never done before. “She couldn’t stand me, and I felt the same way.”

“Sounds familiar, doesn’t it?” Agnes drawls before accompanying it with a short chuckle. “Who knows? Maybe there’s hope for us yet. You might end up not hating me so much after all.”

“Maybe…” you say, the smile reaching your eyes this time.

“Good, good,” Agnes says. “I can’t think of anything more romantic than growing up with the person you’ll be with for the rest of your life. Almost like it’s… sketched out, no?”

You nod at her, not sure where she’s going with this, but you appreciate the sentiment. You consider yourself lucky to have known Wanda most of your life. 

“So, you've lived in Westview your whole life?” Agnes asks.

“Yes,” you nod without hesitation.

“And you've only ever been to Westview?”

“No, of course not,” you laugh, ready to list off places you've been, but suddenly, you can't name any. The cities and trips that should come easily to your tongue just... don't materialize.

Not a single one.

Agnes watches you struggle with a blank expression. A second later, she begins throwing out suggestions, as if trying to help. 

“Canada?" 

You shake your head. 

“California?” 

Another shake.

“New York?”

No. This time, your eyes sting with the frustration of trying to pull something from the haze, realizing there’s nothing there. 

Have you really never been anywhere but Westview?

“Eastview, maybe?” she offers with a bit of sarcasm as she names the town next door.

“I—”

“How strange,” Agnes muses, driving home the final nail in the coffin of your crumbling peace.

You jerk your arm away from her grip and take a few instinctive steps back. “I need to pick up the twins,” you blurt out, seizing the first excuse that comes to mind. “We should be heading out soon.”

Without waiting for her reply, you start walking away, driven by a sudden, intense need to be with your boys, with Wanda. To hold them close, to find some stability. Because right now, you’re petrified by a fear you cannot name. 

“I heard Australia’s amazing this time of year!” Agnes calls after you.

The idea of not having been anywhere but Westview—it’s possible, right? Some people spend their entire lives in one place. But if this feeling—the one that's been gnawing at you lately—is real, if the world outside of Westview is truly non-existent, then what does that say about your life here?

What does it say about you?

[dollishsz]

BAKE ME A CAKE HCS ── .✦

a/n: I’ve had like 3 bags of pretzels and tons of water and I’ve got my Spotify playlist going and ready, so I’m so ready to crush this omg 😭, but literally the pretzels were so yum!! (Sea salt) but anyways enough of food but genuinely you guys need to like um request fics and hcs!!

(Tags: batboys x baker!reader)

BRUCE WAYNE ── .✦

Admiration and Support: Bruce is genuinely amazed by your skills in the kitchen. He never imagined that someone could be so talented at making intricate cakes and delicate pastries. He’ll often sneak into the kitchen just to watch you work, appreciating the craftsmanship that goes into each creation.

Gifts: On special occasions, Bruce will have high-end ingredients or tools delivered to your door, ensuring you have the best supplies for your baking. He may also commission a cake from you for one of the many Wayne galas.

Late-Night Treats: After a long day, he loves sneaking a piece of your cake or a warm pastry when everyone else is asleep. It’s his secret way of unwinding after patrol, and he sometimes brings it to the Batcave when he's working late.

Baking as a Family Activity: If you’re close to his kids, Bruce loves seeing them get involved. Alfred usually helps with the dishes, but Bruce will occasionally attempt to assist in the baking process—though his attempts usually lead to flour everywhere.

DICK GRAYSON ── .✦

The Enthusiastic Taste Tester: Dick is your biggest fan when it comes to your baking. He always asks to taste-test everything you make. You can’t get a batch of cookies or cupcakes past him without him giving an enthusiastic “Are these for me?”

Bakes Together: He absolutely loves baking with you. Even if he’s not the best at it, he loves the experience of spending time together and sharing in the process of creating something beautiful. He’ll add his own “creative” touches (usually involving way too much frosting or sprinkles and like massive diabetes but don’t tell him that😞🙏)

Appreciation: Dick loves showing off your work to his friends and family, boasting about your baking skills. He’ll even tell random strangers about your cakes if the opportunity arises.

Sharing the Love: He loves gifting your baked goods to people. Whether it’s a batch of cookies for the Titans or cupcakes for a charity event, he’s always making sure your delicious treats are shared with others.

JASON TODD ── .✦

The Hidden Sweet Tooth: Jason may come off as tough and gritty, but he has an undeniable soft spot for your baked goods. He’ll act like he doesn’t care, but you’ll often find him sneaking into the kitchen late at night, indulging in the last piece of cake you made.

In the Kitchen With You: Jason’s more of a hands-off kind of guy, but if you ever need help, he’ll step in. He’s not the best baker, but he’ll always try to help you clean up afterward, washing dishes or setting up the ingredients.

Cakes for Special Occasions: Jason secretly loves it when you bake him a special cake for his birthday or some other occasion. He’ll probably act like he’s too tough to care about something so sweet, but he’ll keep a piece of your cake in the fridge to savor later.

Cakes as Comfort: When he's had a rough day, the comfort of your baking is something that instantly calms him. It’s not just the taste but the warmth and care you put into it that makes him feel safe.

TIM DRAKE ── .✦

The Perfectionist’s Palate: Tim appreciates the art of baking on a technical level. He’ll analyze every part of your cake, from the texture of the frosting to the way the layers are stacked, and he’ll always give you the most thoughtful and genuine feedback.

Baking Research: Tim loves to try and learn new recipes with you. He’ll spend hours researching the best techniques, finding obscure recipes, and then he’ll be the one to present a new idea for a cake or pastry for you to try together. He has a great appreciation for the science behind baking.

The Baker’s Helper: Tim is a practical person, so he’ll often assist in the more tedious parts of baking—like measuring ingredients, prepping the oven, or organizing everything before you get started.

Decorating Cakes: Tim is a sucker for well-decorated cakes. He’ll admire your artistry, whether it’s intricate fondant work or delicate piping. If you ever need a hand with the decoration, he’ll be there, helping you get the details just right.

DAMIAN WAYNE ── .✦

Unimpressed at First: Damian might be skeptical at first, having grown up in a more rigid environment. He’ll try to act like he’s not interested in your baking, especially if it’s too “sweet” or “fluffy” for his tastes. But over time, he comes to respect your craft.

A Taste of Perfection: When he finally does try one of your creations, his usually stoic face will break into a small, approving nod. “It’s acceptable,” he’ll say. And that’s his way of telling you that you’ve impressed him.

Incredibly Protective of Your Work: Damian will guard your cakes like they’re priceless treasures. If anyone tries to take the last piece, you’ll find him defending your work with a level of intensity only rivaled by his devotion to his family.

Baking for Special Occasions: He may not show it outwardly, but Damian takes great pride in ensuring that you have the time and space to bake for important events. He’s quietly supportive and makes sure that nothing interferes with your baking process.

AlFRED PENNYWORTH ( IF YOU WERE DATING ANYOF THE BATBOYS ) ── .✦

Your Biggest Supporter: Alfred is the heart of the Batfamily, and he’s often the one who enjoys your baked goods the most. He’ll frequently offer to help you with anything in the kitchen and often provides tips and tricks (he's been making delicious meals for the family for years).

Subtle Compliments: When you bake something particularly spectacular, Alfred will give you a compliment in his typical understated way: “Ah, Miss [Y/N], another masterpiece, I see.” He might even sneak a piece of cake before dinner, though he always acts like it was an accident.

A Baking Partner: Alfred may not be much of a baker himself, but he’ll be happy to assist you in making whatever you need. His love for you is evident in how he’ll quietly encourage you to bake something for a family event or special occasion.

Admiring Your Skills: Alfred will often tell you how much he admires your patience and attention to detail in your work. He loves seeing the joy your creations bring to the rest of the family.

[rubyin-wonderland]

Jealous Boy

opla!Zoro x gn!reader

Summary: When your drink is taking too long to make, a stranger makes his intentions known. Zoro isn't pleased.

WC: 1.9k

Warnings/tags: getting hit on, jealous Zoro

The bar has never been your scene. You aren't exactly fond of alcohol and while you can enjoy a lively locale, bars just don't do it for you. You'll put up with a few drinks for your crew, as long as everyone else is drinking as well, but that's it.

You know Zoro likes to drink. However, his social preference leans toward sitting alone nursing a bottle, instead of sipping from a glass surrounded by fellow drunks.

For the sake of the crew, the both of you go to bars whenever asked. The two of you rarely go out of your way to call attention to yourselves, but you have fun nonetheless.

You sit up at the bar, waiting for your drink. Everyone else is waiting at the table for you to rejoin them, but you've put in a complicated order apparently, so you must wait.

At first, Zoro had stayed with you, but when it was clear you would be staying there for a while, you urged him to go back with the others while you waited.

The wait has been long, and you wonder if the bartender is even trying to get something for you at all when you feel a presence at your side.

A stranger has sat down next to you. He's around your age and clearly local. You offer him a half hearted smile and turn away, trying not to engage.

You aren't exactly a big talker. At least not to drunken strangers at bars.

He orders his drink and it arrives almost immediately. You try not to look offended when his drink arrives and you begin to question if anyone is even working on your drink in the first place.

The man next to you taps the bar and a bartender arrives almost instantly, practically summoned to your neighbors call. "Get my friend here something too, okay?"

The bartender looks at you and you realize after one long second of blank staring that he's waiting for you to order. You repeat what you want and the bartender immediately gets to work, instead of ducking behind the counter and ignoring you like you hadn't even ordered.

"Thanks." You mumble to the stranger.

"No problem." He gives you a friendly smile and this time you feel as though you should put some actual effort into smiling back.

"So, what's someone like you doing in a place like this?" The line is overused, and less than enticing, but you entertain him anyways. "I'm trying to drink. The day is behind me, and so are my faults."

The stranger smiles as the bartender arrives with your drink, and you thank him.

You turn to leave, to go back to your friends, but the stranger speaks up again. "You're not from here." You turn to face him again. "Good catch." "How long are you staying?" His tone is getting more suggestive than you'd like.

"I'm staying for as long as my boat is docked." "Will it be docked," a suggestive grin appears on his face, "overnight?" He raises an eyebrow and you lean back, surprised and a little taken aback at his confidence. "What are you implying?" You ask, raising a brow.

"I think you know." He winks and you resist the urge to run away. "If you're up for it now, we can finish our drinks and leave before things get rowdy in here." You laugh at his advance, mostly out of shock. "Wow. You are something."

Zoro watches this whole interaction like a hawk. He has positioned himself at the table to assure the best view of you while you wait for your drink. Instead, he's forced to watch some idiot attempt to flirt with you. His eyes are laser focused on the stranger's head. He wants to put that man on his ass for even talking to you. For sidling up to you and convincing the bartender to fix your drink, unlike the one that ducked behind a curtain immediately after taking your order.

He watches the man's lips, deciphering the words as they come out. He sees the man call you "his friend" to get you your drink faster. He sees the cheesy pick up line and has to stop himself from grimacing at the rather pathetic attempts at wooing you. He sees the smile crossing the stranger's face and feels palpable disgust at the sight of it.

Worry sinks through his stomach and spreads through his veins as he tries to see any indication of reciprocity on your end. Your back is facing him. He's terrified that this man has managed to charm you, knowing full well he's not the most romantic of partners. He's no charmer, but you picked him, he picked you, and that is worth your loyalty.

Nami briefly snaps him out of his anger fueled trance. "Zoro. Did you hear a thing I just said?"

He frowns at her for breaking his concentration. "No. What?" "I wanted to know if our missing crewmate," she gestures at the empty spot in between him and Usopp in the booth, "has a drink yet. Since you insisted on facing the bar, I thought you'd know."

"Yeah, the drink's there. But some asshole is being chatty."

Nami raises an eyebrow and turns to look, seeing your conversation. "Jealous?" She tries to ask, just in time for Zoro to read the words "docked overnight" on the man's lips, a flirtatious eyebrow raise added to the words. What is he proposing? Zoro feels an extra bout of rage when he hears your surprised laugh. His vision is nearly red. In an act of necessity, he pushes out of the booth, trying to look as calm and collected as he can while he pushes through the bar, eventually ending up behind you.

"If you think I'm something now, just wait." The stranger gives you a sly grin that looks a little wrong, before it slides off his face completely. His eyes focus on something behind you. You turn to look, and a wave of relief hits you to see Zoro standing there.

You notice almost immediately that his hand is not at his side, or lazily hung over the hilt of his blade, but gripping it, as if ready to pull it out and demonstrate his swordsmanship in front of the entire bar.

"Hey Zoro, what's up?" You ask as kindly as you can, hoping he's there to bring you back to the table.

"We were wondering what was taking you so long." He says, his voice as level as he can keep it. "Oh, I just got caught up in conversation. No big deal." You give the stranger a false apologetic smile and reach down to pick up your drink.

"My offer stands for as long as I'm here." He slips a small piece of paper across the bar, his hand grazing yours as the paper slips under the pads of your fingers. Next to you, Zoro straightens up a little more, trying to look bigger, more intimidating. Like a threat. Because he is. The only physical thing keeping that man from a bunch of broken bones is you.

Your hand retreats, pulling the paper up with it, and carrying the drink closer to you, not even muttering a goodbye. Only turning back to give him a half smile just as Zoro shoots another death glare his way.

On the walk back to the table, you tap Zoro's hand with the death grip on his sword. "Relax." You order. He lets go, the tension still present in his hand. "Thanks for getting me." You smile, for real this time. "I was not having fun."

That lightens Zoro's mood. At least you didn't like the stranger too. It makes him feel a little proud for seeing it.

You slide into the booth without much fanfare, there's acknowledgement, but the conversations continue pretty quickly without you.

"You don't have to be such a jealous boy, Roronoa." You murmur under your breath, your hand gently patting his leg under the table. He's still tense, and his eyes keep shooting back to the bar, where the man frequently glances back at you. Zoro has shifted slightly closer to you about five separate times.

Zoro stiffens at your accusation. "Excuse you?" "Stop looking at that man at the bar. I'm not sitting with him anymore. I'm right here. Looking at you. Not him. You "

He grunts in return, slipping just a tiny bit closer to you, pushing the limits for his sheaths. They're starting to tug on the fabric of the booth, so he opts to tug you closer to him, an arm around your waist, pulling you even closer.

You pull the paper out of your pocket and set it on the table. "Are you worried about this?" You unfold it, revealing an address. Likely to the man's house. "You don't have to worry, Zoro. That's one hell of a walk. I'd never go for it."

He rolls his eyes and you laugh at him. One loud, short noise. "I wasn't going to accept his offer, if you were afraid that was ever going to happen."

"I wasn't afraid of that." He scoffs, looking away from both you and the man at the bar. "Sure you weren't." Your arms are crossed as you sit back lazily in the seat.

"Don't say it like that. I knew you wouldn't." "Sure you did."

He rolls his eyes again, and you refrain from joking about how he could fix a wagon with the amount his eyes were rolling.

Instead, you decide to play a game. "Though, he did seem quite charming. Perhaps I'll go see if he can get me a second round?" You swirl your drink, which is still half full, but the ice rattles against the glass.

You move to stand but you're pulled down. Two hands, one on each side of your waist, settle you back into the seat, right next to Zoro, closer than before, if that was even possible.

"Not so fast." He says, pulling you even closer, so that your leg presses against his. He speaks as if he has just volunteered to save you from an active volcano. "I can get your drinks."

"And leave me alone at the table? What if a handsome young man approaches me? You won't be here to fend him off." You tease, resting your chin on his shoulder, a wicked grin on your face.

"You're impossible." "Come on, Zoro." You loop your arm through his, running your hand lightly along his forearms. "You like the challenge. It makes you feel stronger when you win."

You press a feather light kiss to his cheek. "And you did, by the way." He furrows his brow in confusion. "You won. I don't even remember what that guy at the bar looks like."

A proud smile makes its way to his face. "You're right. I do feel stronger." He puffs his chest up a bit and you suppress a giggle at the action.

"Don't worry about losing." You now snake your arm around him, pressing ever closer, until there's no space left in between your bodies. You even cross your ankle with his, touching all the way from your shoulders to your heels "I don't think you can."

He smiles at you as you take a sip of the drink, crumpling up the piece of paper slipped to you at the bar, discarding it on the floor, to be trampled on by a million feet. "You have my heart Zoro. Only you."

[msflora-lynn]

Rating the fanbase of every Primarch & their legions.

This is my opinion, I love all of you ㅤ♡ྀི ₊

Lion'El Johnson & Dark Angels fans (8/10): I like the fanarts they make, also 100 points for portraying Lion like a rouge kitty cat sometimes. Oh I also like how the Lion fans are embracing the 'our primarch is obviously neurodivergent and we love him for it'

Fulgrim & E.Children fans (10/10): This part of the group always produce the best fanart?? Or at least a lot of artworks for E.Children in general. Though browsing his fanart must be done with caution cause 20% chance I might see schlongous or booty.

Perturabo & I.W fans (8/10): I'm sorry about your favorite character. Not many of them are around though :( But so far their fanart production have been solid. I like how they kinda just chill and embrace the 'neurodivergent manchild' persona for Bo and makes no attempt to refute it.

Jaghatai Khan & W.Scars fans (8/10): Surprisingly not many of them. I'm kinda bummed out about it since I like this character. Though his fanarts are mostly adorable! They're always chill, I'm happy to see them on my feed -`♡´-

Leman Russ & S.W fans (7/10): I would rate it 8/10 but I hate stimky wolf grrrr so -1 point (msflora found dead in fenris more at news 6). Anyways fanart-wise, they're so good!! I like how they always draw Leman like a scrunkly lil guy. I also love to read their fanfictions.

Rogal Dorn & I.Fists fans (6/10): WHERE ARE YOU PEOPLE?! I CAN'T FIND YOU!! I RATE IT LOW BECAUSE I'M SCRAPING THE GROUND FOR ROGAL DORN CONTENT! But in all seriousness, loving how they embrace the 'fortify' meme. I don't like the weird Black Templar larpers from twitter, but that's just a 1% of the fanbase

Konrad Curze & Night Lord fans (8/10): Your fanfictions scares me, most of the hashtags are nowhere written in the bible, but I read them all so who am I to judge. I love how this side of the fandom just embrace the 'we are bad and disturbing and creepy' schtick and go ball. I blame this side of the fandom for making me love Jago Sevatar tho.

Sanguinius & Blood Angels fans (10/10): Insane artworks from this side of the fandom, always impress me. A lot of vampire and angelic stuff, I love you guys. Sorry about your primarch tho.

Ferrus Manus & I.H fans (all six of them) (7/10): I'm sorry about your primarch, I'm sorry he get crumbs in the lore. I rate it low because I'm scraping for any IH/Ferrus content here....

Angron & World Eaters fans (8/10): Loving the contents you guys made here! A lot of red, so many red, oh god. I'm sorry about the sinking ship of Argel Tal x Kharn though.

Roboute Guilliman & Ultramarine fans (9/10): Spoiled, well-fed, their favorite guys have insane plot armor and I'm jealous >:(. Keep the bulky half-naked Rob fanarts coming tho I have them all liked & downloaded.

Mortarion & D.Guards fans (6/10): I do not like Nurgle stuff so I rarely go there... But my god most fanfictions yall made for Mortarion x reader is heartbreaking. Rating it low because I get scared of some fanarts they make, but pre-heresy Mortarion is kinda baddddddd👅

Magnus the Red & Thousand Sons fans (100 Tzaangors/10): We are so cool and awesome, not a biased rating. In all seriousness we Tsons fans r eating GOOODDD this year (thx SM2). Though we suffer from a disease called 'inconsistent writing of our favorite primarch's power levels' and it's not getting better.

Horus & L.Wolves fans (9/10): Guys I understand, Horus is big daddy, a father, he's an icon, you guys made it clear with the abundant of breeding tags in your fanfics. Sorry that the way he's corrupted into chaos is kinda bootycheeks tho :( Wishing they explore more into his corruption.

Lorgar & WB fans (Where Are You Guys/10): While being small, they make the best artworks for Lorgar. Questionable fanfic tags, but I love yall regardless. They kinda eats with all the Word Bearer fanarts tho I've seen. Sadly, Erebus is from here and everyone hates him.

Vulkan & Salamander fans (8/10): I would like to pet them. In all seriousness I'm happy to see the majority of Vulkan fanarts are created with African features in mind ♥︎!! Everyone from this fanbase are cute and sweet!!

Corvus Corax & RG fans (Birds/10): I love all the raven aesthetics often seen in their fanworks. Corvus having wings is so cool, and often I see amazing OCs spawning from this legion.

Alpharius Omegon & A.L fans (What are you guys doing/10): I can't find much about them but I fw with the entire 'we dont know what our primarch is doing so we just ball it'. BUT HEY CONGRATS ON YOUR PRIMARCH COMING BACK!!!

:3 And I love all of you... Thank you for reading this nonsense of a post.

[beefrobeefcal]

For the Stars feat. Dieter Bravo

Summary: Dieter got clean.

Character: Dieter Bravo | Rating: Teen but still MDNI | Word Count: 853

Content Warnings: discussions of drug and alcohol use/abuse, mentions of self sabotage, intervention, su*cide, crying, AA/NA meeting (it is not specified which), mention of an existential crisis, loss of hope, rock bottom, absent father

Author's Notes: for my beloved @bitchesuntitled; you are a treasure i am so glad i get to marvel at every day. kudos to you + the journey you are on that I'm honored to witness. You've got this by the balls, baby!

Thank you to @jennaispunk for their eyes and encouragement.

No more tag lists - follow @beefnotes + turn on notifications for fic updates!

Why did Dieter Bravo get sober? He has an answer, but he cringes when he’s reminded of it. 

Sure, he’s answered this question in interviews and the like, but the answers were half-truths or full lies. His son was born. He hit rock bottom. He was uninsurable. He was arrested. There was an intervention…

The part about the son was true, but not the part about him getting him clean. The kid had already started kindergarten when Dieter went to rehab last. He was a father in name only; the only evidence that proved this was a fact was the court-ordered monthly chunk of cash that moved from his bank account to his son’s mother’s and that the boy shared his nose. Beyond that, the boy and he were strangers, and would more than likely remain so until he turned eighteen and sought Dieter out.  And it didn’t seem likely.

Rock bottom in life was only a myth to Dieter. Every time he thought he found it, there was another layer below it, waiting to receive him and let him keep falling. He was convinced that ‘rock bottom’ was the bottom of a casket and you had to be dead to hit it. He hadn’t made it that far yet, despite his numerous - some intentional and some not - attempts to get there, and he knew that until he hit it, the fall was continuous… until you grabbed on.

The last job he took before his final stint in rehab was short-lived. It was a six episode arc on some primetime bullshit cop drama and it lasted a whole 32 minutes. That was the time between the call to say he was hired and the next to say he was fired. The show runner called him, legal caught wind that it was Dieter who was hired and informed production that he was far too great a risk to get any kind of assurance or insurance, the show runners had a meeting and one of the lower ranking assistants to the assistant of the executive producer called him back to tell him they weren’t going to need him. That wasn’t a wake up call. That was another reason to keep swallowing pills and whiskey and shooting up in his bathtub.

His arrest didn’t even make the front page news. It was a small, linked article near the bottom of another random news story and because they didn’t care, Dieter didn’t either. Despite the court ordered drug and alcohol counselling that came as a result, he didn’t stop. He paid anyone who said they were clean to piss in a bottle and he would pass the drug tests with flying colours. Dieter was spiraling in a free fall and he was so numb to it, he didn’t even notice.

And yes, there was an intervention. Apparently it was in a nice room in a nice hotel and they’d even had it nicely catered. Dieter didn’t go. Once he was told his sister was in town, he knew what was happening and he took off for a bender in another state with strangers who told him they recognized him but in reality they just knew he had money to burn. His sister never forgave him for that and still to this day hasn’t taken his calls or returned his messages.

But even with all this, Dieter was now sober. Clean. Dry. Straight edge. Square. Whatever anyone called it, Dieter was it. He was here, back in the basement of the church on 65th, to tell his story. And he felt a certain responsibility to tell everyone there the huge secret to getting and keeping sober - the core memory that changed his life and adjusted his course for the better. As he listened to the others, one at time, go to the front of the room and tell their story, he mulled over how to not have to tell them the irrational truth he’d been too embarrassed to share.

He’d wandered out one night into his yard and looked up at the sky. It was, ironically enough, a sobering moment, realizing just how insignificant he was compared to deep back inky sky above and the sporadic stars dotting it. He then remembered a fact about stars, as he stood drunk, chin up and gawking at the sky. Because of how far those stars were from the earth, by the time their light shimmered above him at that moment, those stars were dead. The dead stars still shimmered for him. Their light made it to him and he couldn’t even thank them for keeping him company. He sat on grass a sad, drunk, broken, lonely man, only comforted by a twinkling sky, and Dieter wept. 

In truth, Dieter got sober for the stars. 

He looks up to the front of the room as the chairperson nods to him. Dieter makes his way to the front of the room and smiles at the others in their chairs. Dieter was going to tell them the truth.

“Hi. My name is Dieter and I’m an addict. Today, I am five years clean...”

[pinkandpurple360]

yikes at that anon lecturing you, but especially at this part

Paying attention to Stolas language in Murder Family, fucked up context aside, he don't bring up consequences if Blitz didn't accept the trade neither mentioned his power to threat him to accept it either, he offered and even asked if it's fair, someone as powerful as Stolas could control Blitz easily, yet he doesn't and it shows a lot about his character, but of fucking course you all don't care about that, Stolas is a big meanie.

what is it with Stolas fans and acting like what he says is the only thing that matters in that scene? saying 'fucked up context aside' is just trying to sweep away the entire problem people have with that scene

the context is what makes it unfair. the context is the threat to make Blitzo accept the deal - Stolas knew Blitzo was in danger and couldn't think straight and kept the call going anyway. there was a literal threat to Blitzo's life that Stolas was leveraging to get him to agree. the context is also where the control comes in - Blitzo needs access to the book therefore Stolas has control over him, because Blitzo has significant reason to agree regardless of whether he wants to or not to be able to keep being able to eat and house both himself and Loona. this isn't that hard to understand; it's no different than a power difference between a tenant and a landlord. except Stolas is worse because he's literal royalty and Blitzo is part of a species considered less than dirt

and Blitzo especially has reason to think there will be consequences for saying no because Stolas is showing him through ignoring all the signs he's in danger on that phone call that he does not care for his wellbeing - he called when Blitzo's life was in danger and he knew that full well. there's no 'yeah but'-ing to get out of that one. saying 'well Stolas could have been way more overt with his control!' is not a defense. Stolas is such a malicious abuser because he's the one person in the cast who isn't a mustache-twirling silent movie villain about it, because he'll do things like say 'sound fair?' when everything about the situation is weighted in his favor. this part is basically saying 'he could have been super obvious about how he was going to force Blitzo into sex but because he tried to pretend like he was being fair (even when he blatantly wasn't) that shows what a good person he is!'

also this:

This misconception you all have that Stolitz fans think all this needs to happen is Blitz to confess, and that Stolas has nothing more to improve is just wrong. Just plain wrong. I love both of these characters and I hate seeing an enormous mischaracterization of both.

I personally haven't seen the (remaining) Stolitz shippers saying this for one simple reason: I avoid their spaces. I don't like seeing posts similar to anon's where anything Stolas does wrong is the result of a misunderstanding or just Blitzo taking it badly because he's insecure or something, or worse where the very obvious signifiers of abuse on Stolas' part are handwaved away. I know that stuff will bug me so I avoid it

but anon clearly doesn't abide by the same rules. they're so bothered by a 'mischaracterization' of their faves that they're marching into people's inboxes to write long screeds about how antis are just missing the point or whatever else.

if there's only one anon or several my advice is the same: stay out of anti spaces. you clearly can't handle it and you need to stop making it everyone else's problem. if this ramping up of pestering people is some strange attempt to shut down criticism of the next ep before it even drops, you're wasting your time. the view counts on helluva show it's turned off a lot of people and you can't debate someone back into loving something that's let them down too many times

just go enjoy the show in your own spaces and block tags/people whose takes you don't want to see. trying to police people's critiques on helluva is both a losing battle and a waste of time

“Stolas is great if you just pay attention to his sad backstory and try not to think about the bad stuff he did. And attribute all the bad stuff to Blitz being a mentally ill tsundere”

Any time I am exposed to a owlizard shipper it’s always against my will despite my best efforts, because they are absolutely everywhere. The creator of the show is one of them, the entire show was thrown out to instead be catered to them and their headcanons. They make up almost the entire fan space and in fact shippers write and animate the very show itself.

But it’s still not good enough? They still have to rant about people that aren’t on their team?

[lucagray813]

Shadow - Chapter 8

Title: Something Special

Rating: E (M rated and E rated sections are marked with the line break --M-- and --E-- respectively and can be skipped)

Word Count: ~10,000

Characters: Wukong, Macaque

Minor Characters: Monkeys, Mentioned PIF

Relationships: Macaque/Wukong

Minor Relationships: Macaque & PIF

Summary: After some monkey shenanigans, Wukong learns a little about the difficulties Macaque faced while he was imprisoned. And bold, new steps are taken in the bedroom.

Additional Tags: Developing Relationship, Acquired Disability, Slice of Life, DBK is called Niú, PIF is called Gōngzhǔ

CW: Sexual Intimacy, sexual inexperience, first times, penetrative sex, emotional sex, interrupted sex, panic attacks

Link to AO3 Version

Chapter Navigation: First | Prev | Next

----

Wukong was not born yesterday and his beloved monkey subjects were nowhere near as slick as they thought they were. This lot were clearly on distraction duty but they couldn't be more obvious about it if they tried, so ignoring their concerned shrieks, he turned heel and made his way back to the house.

Which apparently was enough to prompt desperate measures but it didn't matter how many monkeys piled on top of him or tried to pull him back - they couldn't hope to slow him down, let alone stop him. Their attempts to cover his eyes however was a step too far - being both irritating and dangerous - so he simply transformed in quick succession to a tiny mouse and then a bird to get away from them.

He flew swiftly and if that wasn't the sight and sound of a lookout just outside the house then he didn't know what was. He wasted no time swooping down and transforming back to normal in order to march through the door, "Alright, the game's up, what's- What the-? What are you doing with my stuff!?"

It looked like they were trying to steal anything that wasn't nailed down. A small group was even putting in a huge effort to try and move the couch towards the door. There was some panicked scrabbling as most of the trouble makers tried to make a run for it and he had to move fast to save the TV but once that was safely righted it wasn't hard to catch a couple monkeys to interrogate.

"Alright. You know this is not on. What were you planning to do with my stuff?"

The monkey he had dangling from his left hand curled up as best they could, regret clear in their expression - although he didn't doubt for a second it was because they'd been caught and not because they felt any guilt. The monkey on his right was much less apologetic, apparently they needed his stuff for something important and they complained that they were going to bring it back when they were finished.

He shook them carefully, "I don't care that you were going to bring it back - where were you trying to take everything I own?"

They were tight-lipped so he redirected his attention to the weaker link, staring at them with as much disapproval as he could muster and they cracked almost immediately.

"You needed it for a show...? What show? What are you talking about?"

He shifted the angry monkey in his right hand to under his arm to stop them trying to reach the whistleblower and put the one in his left down, "Alright, the jigs up - show me where you were planning to take all this stuff."

After sending a wary glance towards their imprisoned partner in crime, they reluctantly led the way, and thankfully in that time his prisoner had calmed down, simply hanging limp and defeated. He shook his head - everyone on this island was so dramatic.

He wasn't very surprised to be led to the old theatre, long since cleaned up since Macaque had returned, but he was surprised to see it absolutely teeming with monkeys preparing to go on stage. He spotted Macaque off to the side with his eyes closed, he almost looked like he was sleeping in his chair and, given how peaceful he looked, he likely had limited the range of his hearing to almost nothing.

There was no way he didn't know he was here though - he would have sensed his magic if nothing else.

Bemused by what he thought was going on here, he released his charges and made his way over, sitting close to Macaque before asking, "This the director's seat?"

Macaque didn't even open his eyes as he hummed tiredly, "Nope. Think that got tossed against a wall, like, twenty minutes ago. God knows where the director is, doubt it's the same monkey it was. They've already gone through about three of them."

A little confused, he responded, "Wait, this isn't your doing?"

Macaque peeked open an eye for long enough to look at him in mild disbelief and offense, "I know it's been a while but you really think I'd run a show this badly?"

He looked around at the chaos and decided that no, Macaque was most definitely not calling the shots around here. He rubbed at his chin thoughtfully, "Yeah, that does make sense. Why would you need to send the monkeys to steal furniture?"

Macaque sighed irritably and brought a hand to rub at the bridge of his nose, "I told them not to- Sorry, I should have realised but I just couldn't handle the racket anymore. Did they break anything?"

"Nah, I got there before they could do any damage. You doing alright? You're not looking so hot."

"Yeah, yeah... Just tired. Think I might have a migraine coming on."

He frowned, "What are you doing here then? You couldn't be in a worse place to help it."

"It's a long story but someone needs to provide the special effects."

Did they really? He responded, "Well, I'll do it then. Get yourself out of here."

"I'd rather stay here but if you could take over my job I would actually be super grateful."

"Alright, what's the deal? Why're you wanting to torment yourself like this?"

"Can we talk about it later? I just... need to be around the monkeys for a while."

His expression softened, Macaque did occasionally have moments where he really wanted the monkeys' company, usually if he'd had a nightmare about the fire and if he was tired that might be what had happened.

Still he wasn't going to do himself any favours staying here, carefully he offered, "I could try some healing magic? That might help?"

He didn't miss the way Macaque tensed for a moment before he forced himself to relax. There had definitely been a polite decline on the tip of his tongue but shockingly he instead nodded stiffly. Wukong's offer had been genuine but he never actually believed Macaque would consider it.

Even before Macaque's hang ups about someone else's magic getting a little too close to his, he had never handled healing magic that well. Wukong was not particularly skilled at it either but he'd patched up literally thousands of monkeys over the years, so he had a pretty good grasp of the basics at least.

Slowly he raised his hands until they hovered on either side of Macaque's head, "You sure...?"

He nodded jerkily but it was clear how distressed he was about it, his body was tense, his face was scrunched up and his breathing was starting to pick up. Wukong hesitated, "Macaque..."

He spoke quickly, "Just do it."

Deciding to go for it, he took a deep breath and concentrated, determined not to mess this up. Macaque flinched as soon as his hands started to glow but he brought his own hands up to grab at Wukong's wrists as if to force them both to stay where they were.

He told himself to focus on the spell, focus on getting it right. He knew Macaque's magic, he would be able to feel if it responded badly, this was just fear, not pain.

He quietly uttered reassurances, "That's it. You're doing well. Just keep breathing."

Typically, the recipient would normally start to feel more relieved as the spell went on but Macaque just seemed to be doing his best to grit his teeth and bear it. This was the sort of spell you could keep going with but he tried to keep it as short as possible. He disengaged his magic slowly but he couldn't actually move his hands away with the hold Macaque had on them.

Instead he brought them to rest gently on the sides of his head, waiting for Macaque to come back to himself, which he did after a ragged breath in.

"You ok?"

Macaque nodded before dragging their hands away from his face and almost immediately flopping his head on Wukong's shoulder, "Tired."

Wukong was startled slightly by a small number of curious and concerned monkeys climbing over him. He'd almost forgotten where they were - chaos still carried on around them, most monkeys not even sparing them a glance bar this handful that were quietly chittering and asking what was wrong.

He jostled Macaque gently, "I've got things handled here. Go to get some rest. Go to my room and you can take this lot with you to keep you company."

They were a considerate bunch, keeping their enthusiasm for such a suggestion as quiet as they could, belatedly he recognised most of them as ones that had been around long before he'd come back from the Journey.

He felt Macaque nod, "Yeah... I should do that..."

"Yeah, you should. Before you do though - did the spell work? How're you feeling?"

Macaque sighed and pushed himself up tiredly, "I don't think it didn't work but I think I was too tense and tired for it to do much."

He leaned over and kissed his temple, "Go get some sleep and we can talk about it later. You did really good though."

Macaque just huffed and addressed the monkeys, "Alright, who wants to go for a nap?"

Almost all of them scrambled to get closer to him - a clear indication that they wanted to come with. And with a small, tired smile he was gone, his many willing volunteers gone with him.

Well, that was an unexpected success. Obviously, it would have been better if his spell had actually helped but the fact that Macaque even let him try it was a massive step for him and when he was less tired Wukong was definitely going to make a big deal about it. For now though...

He had to deal with this - whatever this even was.

He looked down at the despondent monkey that had remained in his lap and questioned them, "Don't suppose you can explain what's going on, can you?"

King sad. Want happy king. Did bad job.

The monkeys tended to address he and Macaque with the same title, particularly those that had been alive when he had been trapped under the mountain. It had annoyed him at the very beginning before the two of them had properly started to reconcile but now he was pretty happy that they viewed Macaque as his equal.

He could see how this might have started off as an attempt to cheer Macaque up but the monkeys had a tendency to quickly lose sight of why they were doing something and just got caught up in doing whatever they wanted and this had clearly spiralled well out of control.

"Hey, none of that now. He just wasn't feeling well. He would have loved this otherwise."

It was a little bit of a white lie. Even on a good day this probably would have irritated Macaque but he could appreciate the gesture. He probably still did appreciate it now, even if he was under the weather.

He moved them to his shoulder and looked around, trying to come up with a plan of attack. He had to try and find the monkey in charge so he could introduce them to their new special effects artist. Although it was looking likely that this had devolved past the point of anyone being in charge.

He sighed heavily, if he called the whole thing off there would be a riot. It looked like he was going to have to take charge here, he couldn't help but envy Macaque, no doubt lying in bed cosied up to some much better behaved monkeys.

Ah well, show time, he supposed.

----

Several grueling hours later and he was finally free to go check up on Macaque. There had been some genuinely fun moments throughout the day, and he was forever amazed by the stories the monkeys came up with, but he was absolutely ready to join Macaque in bed.

He was however stopped short when he opened his bedroom door and felt compelled to immediately locate his phone. It was just too cute a sight not to capture. Macaque curled up dozing, surrounded by monkeys doing the same, most of them snuggled up to him.

Alright, his hardships had been worth the pay off, and after a truly unnecessary amount of pictures, he made short work of stripping and carefully trying to join in on the monkey pile. Macaque opened an eye blearily as soon as he got on the bed, he grunted softly in acknowledgement before closing it again.

Unfortunately, some of the monkeys were just going to have to budge slightly because Wukong wanted to lie right next to him, and though they grumbled they did move, allowing him to lie almost nose to nose with Macaque.

He reached over and tucked some hair away from his face before quietly asking, "How you feeling?"

He got a sound in response that suggested that Wukong should shut up and go to sleep. He chuckled lowly, sounded good to him. They could chat after a nap.

An hour or two later saw him returning to the waking world, he yawned loudly as he stretched, before he directed his attention to what appeared to be a still sleeping Macaque.

"Mac...?"

He got a soft hum in acknowledgement and took that as a go ahead, "How you feeling now?"

Macaque yawned before blinking open his eyes, "Hm. Better. How was the show?"

He snorted, "I'd call it a disaster but everyone else seemed to think it was a hit."

Macaque huffed, "Yeah, what would you know about quality theatre?"

"Obviously nothing compared to the troupe. What was up with you earlier?"

Macaque shrugged, "Got into a bit of fight with Gōngzhǔ - just left me feeling a bit rung out."

That was definitely not the answer he was expecting, "What'd you get into a fight over?"

"Ah, it wasn't important. She was just in a mood - it'll be water under the bridge soon enough."

It was hard not to notice one or two of the monkeys still with them did not appear happy at the mention of Gōngzhǔ, it could have just been because she had been why Macaque was upset but they looked quite venomous.

One of them even started complaining about the "scary woman" before Macaque placed a hand over their head, "Yeah, yeah. We're all fine. Give it a rest." They did not look pleased to be silenced but they struggled to keep up the grumbling when Macaque started scratching gently at their scalp.

Wukong was a little suspicious, "Why do I get the feeling the monkeys know more than I do?"

Macaque just sighed, "It's nothing. It's just the last time Gōngzhǔ was on the island before you came back was a bit of a disaster. They don't remember her too fondly."

Despite this having happened hundreds of years ago, he could feel himself getting worked up at the thought that she might have done anything to endanger their home, "What did she do?"

"Wukong, leave it. It's in the past. There's no point getting bent out of shape about it."

He was prepared to argue when he realised that he was probably right, that didn't mean he didn't want to know though. He took a calming breath, and softer he asked, "What happened?"

Macaque hesitated before offering, "She was trying to help. But, and I don't know if you know this, but she has a really twisted notion of what that means. She just..." He cut himself off, before explaining, "I really don't want to tell you this story. It's only going to upset you and there's nothing to be done about it."

"I'm not going to make you tell me but the damage has already been done. I'm just going to imagine the worst case scenario."

Macaque rolled on to his back, and the monkey he had been petting quickly leapt up onto his chest and curled up there and almost unthinkingly Macaque brought his hand to rest on their back.

He was clearly thinking over what to say and Wukong waited patiently, only budging over so he could lay his head on Macaque's shoulder and throw an arm over him.

Tone carefully neutral, he explained, "Things weren't good. They hadn't been for a while but... She was just convinced that if I left the island behind and became an official member of her court I would be better off. We'd argued over it plenty but after the fire... She thought if she finished the job I'd finally see sense. Be free of what was holding me back."

He tightened his grip on Macaque as he processed the implications of those words, he tried to keep his fury in check, "She tried to...?"

"Tried to. Failed. She did some damage to the island, sure, but I would have killed us both before I let her hurt a single member of the troupe. I couldn't save them all from the fire but I would be damned if I was going to fail a second time."

His chest roiled with emotion but what left his mouth was, "How could you stand to be anywhere near her after that?"

He immediately cringed. He was one to talk. How could Macaque ever possibly stand to be anywhere near him after what he'd done? It was likely a similar story - he hadn't forgiven her, but had decided to move forward anyway. He tried to back track, "I mean, I- I just meant-"

"I know what you meant."

Wukong squeezed him, "I'm sorry."

Sorry really didn't do it justice. He was sorry he'd said anything and he was so incredibly remorseful something so awful had happened.

Macaque continued, "It was the last time we saw each other before... I came back. We've never actually properly addressed it but well, it got brought up while we were arguing. I don't think either of us are looking forward to having to try and talk about it. I know she doesn't feel bad about it. She never does if she feels the end would have justified the means."

He honestly wasn't sure what Macaque and Niú saw in her sometimes - there was tough love and then there was just straight up crazy. With how fondly Macaque spoke of her most of the time, he had almost forgotten how capable she was of some truly unimaginable feats of cruelty.

Macaque sighed, "We'll sort it out though. Honestly, that argument earlier was pretty tame - you should have seen how we used to fight back in the day. I swear half my scars are from her, she's such a vicious little shit. You've never met anyone with a hunger for violence like she used to have. But that was then, we'll be fine. You don't need to get involved so just... Don't go off and have a go at her, alright?"

He'd be lying if he said the thought hadn't crossed his mind, but his time was better spent here. Although, he wasn't sure he'd be able to resist glowering at her next time they met. To think he had willingly invited her to the island!

He huffed, "Fine. But she better watch her step next time she's on this island - one toe out of line and she's never allowed back."

"Oh, don't worry. I've said as much to her."

He nodded. Good. He knew Macaque would never knowingly put the island in danger.

He couldn't help but wonder if there had been any tension between Macaque and Gōngzhǔ at the party they'd had here and he'd just never noticed - they'd both seemed happy enough with each other.

"I always thought you two were, like, best friends. I didn't realise you and her had, like, actual beef."

"Yeah, well, I don't go complaining about you in front of her either."

And he was extremely grateful for that - she had enough reason to hate him. But still, while he got that Macaque probably didn't want to foster any bad blood between them, he wanted him to feel like he could talk to him about this stuff. Who else was he going to talk to if he was upset about Gōngzhǔ? Niú? Unlikely.

"How do you think it will go next time you see her?"

"Hard to say. Depends if Niú feels he needs to mediate. But either way it'll be fine, doubt it will end in too much bloodshed."

It would probably be a little hypocritical to say he hoped there was no bloodshed at all - it had been a long while since but he'd often had arguments with Macaque that had come to blows.

"Tell me how it goes?"

Macaque kissed the top of his head, "I will."

He decided to let the topic of Gōngzhǔ drop for the moment, he was definitely going to need some time alone to hash out everything he felt about what he'd learnt but for right now he'd rather forget about her. He asked, "How's your head?"

"Not a hundred percent but definitely better than it was. Er, thanks for, y'know."

"Anytime. How you feeling about the whole me using magic on you?"

He hesitated before answering honestly, "Conflicted."

He encouraged him to elaborate, "How so?"

"Well... Nothing bad happened so I should feel good, right? And I do, sort of. But the idea of doing it again is terrifying. Logically, I know it will be fine but..."

"It doesn't matter what "logically, you know" - your feelings don't care about that. But for the record, I think it was super brave of you to try it. I'm really proud of you."

He could hear the embarrassment in Macaque's voice, "Ugh, shut up."

He pushed himself up and looked down at him, "No way! It was a big deal! We should celebrate!"

Macaque looked like he'd rather do anything else but he tried to negotiate, "If I can do it again, then you can make a fuss, alright? This was probably just a fluke. I was just too tired to think straight."

He pouted as he poked Macaque's cheek, "Why are you so determined to downplay it when you do something impressive?"

Macaque swatted his hand away, "I never miss a chance to showcase my victories. This isn't the same. This is something I should just be able to do without freaking out. That's not impressive."

To be fair, when Macaque thought he'd done something spectacular he was incredibly smug about it, waving it in front of Wukong's face until he felt he received suitable recognition and awe. And Wukong could understand why he felt the way he did about this kind of achievement, at times he felt equally awkward about acknowledging when he'd successfully faced his social anxiety.

But it didn't matter how easy anyone else found it - Macaque had done something that was difficult for him personally and he should be proud of that.

"Well, I think it's impressive and I'm going to celebrate."

Macaque rolled his eyes but there was the faintest blush on his cheeks and that was all the motivation he needed to start showering his face with kisses.

"Ugh, you are such a loser."

Good thing he knew that actually meant - "I love you and I'm happy about the attention." And with that sort of sweet talk all he wanted to do was kiss him senseless. As he shifted to do just that he was interrupted by a disgruntled chirp. He stopped and looked down at the monkey that clearly did not want to move from Macaque's chest.

They had a short stare down but this monkey was crazy if they thought they stood a chance winning this fight but his adversary was obviously no fool because they suddenly stopped glaring at him to look as cute as they could, chirping pathetically at Macaque not to let him hurt them.

Incredulous, Wukong admonished, "You little... That's not going to work! You think we're not both wise to your tricks!"

They shuffled so their head was underneath Macaque's hand so they could nuzzle at it.

They were good but there was no way Macaque was going to fall for it. He would absolutely be aware that he was being played. Macaque laughed fondly, picking the monkey up and bringing them up to his face so he could rub their noses together, "You know how cute you are, don't you?"

Nowhere near as cute as Macaque was capable of being, that move there just about took Wukong out. He loved seeing him act all soft around the troupe.

The little rascal chirped happily before sending him a little cheeky side eye - clearly thinking themselves victorious. Oddly, all of a sudden he was over the cuteness.

He took the monkey out of Macaque's grasp and started to pick up any other stragglers, "Alright, I think it's time for everyone that's not me or Mac to get out of this room. You've all overstayed your welcome!"

He ignored their cries of outrage and unceremoniously dumped them out in the hall, making sure to make eye contact with the troublemaker that challenged him as he closed the door.

He dusted off his hands as he turned back around, "Now that's dealt with, where were we?"

Macaque had raised himself up on an elbow and teased, "I can't believe you kicked out the monkeys just so you could have your wicked way with me. When did you become such a deviant?"

He grinned as he made his way back to the bed, "I think we all know who the bad influence is here."

Macaque's face was a picture of faux innocence and Wukong didn't hesitate to crawl over him so he could show him everything said bad influence had taught him.

--M--

Wukong was very content with the way his and Macaque's physical relationship was developing. He had never been a monkey with a high sex drive but if he was honest the feelings of arousal or pleasure were nowhere near as important, or even as appealing, as discovering new ways to be close and intimate with Macaque.

It had taken a fair bit of convincing before Macaque finally seemed to accept Wukong was perfectly happy not to finish. And it wasn't even always just because he still felt bad about being the only one to do so, it just wasn't the point of doing this - he preferred it to be sensual rather than sexual.

He liked seeing and hearing how Macaque responded when he touched him, he liked exploring his body and whispering words of devotion against his skin. And he liked when Macaque did the same to him - it was just so easy to get wrapped up in each other and forget that the rest of the world existed.

It hadn't been a straightforward learning experience, both of them at times a little too keen to please the other or a little too reluctant to accept any reciprocation - neither a hundred percent on their own boundaries let alone each other's but they were figuring it out.

As a general rule, there was no touching below the belt, which Wukong could easily accept but Macaque would still occasionally try and convince him otherwise, whispering promises of how good he could make him feel if he would just let him.

He was in two minds about it.

On the one hand he had learnt how good it felt to be the one responsible for making someone else's pleasure, so Macaque would definitely not be getting nothing out of the experience but on the other hand, he'd built up this idea in his head that an orgasm was way too big a thing for him to be able to properly repay Macaque for.

And part of him knew that it was silly, as if an orgasm was the greatest gift someone could receive, but the longer he didn't let it happen the bigger a deal it became in his mind. He couldn't find a way to reciprocate in a way that had equal value so he just couldn't let Macaque do this for him.

Knowing this was the root of the issue however Macaque was not so easily deterred and he had tried a myriad of arguments or ploys to try and change his mind - some of which were definitely better than others.

One thing they had learnt from Macaque's attempts to convince him was that hearing him beg to service him was possibly the fastest way to turn him off. He could understand that plenty of people would have found that particular attempt very appealing but he couldn't even begin to express how bad it made him feel.

Macaque had thankfully noticed very quickly and everything had stopped so they could talk about it. Macaque had been a little surprised that he'd been so against it, not having quite realised how much Wukong hated him treating him like a king, even in jest. That certainly hadn't been a fun conversation but he was sort of grateful to finally have talked about it, even if thinking about the circumstances did embarrass him a little.

Macaque did however eventually hit upon the right strategy to get Wukong to cave, breaking off their heated make out session on the bed to sit tall upon his lap and all but demand that he be given what he wanted.

In any other setting, Wukong have been annoyed at the domineering attitude but damnit if Macaque didn't look good sitting in his lap as if it were his personal throne and looking down on him as if there was no outcome where Wukong didn't submit to his desires.

He had decided he did not want to closely examine why this was what apparently did it for him but he'd been able to do nothing more than gaze up at him in awe as he nodded mutely. The victorious grin he got in return had no right to be as attractive as it was.

He was fairly certain a hand job was not supposed to be such a euphoric experience but Macaque obviously knew what he was doing and with the well earned knowledge he had of his body, Wukong had been putty in his hands. He wasn't convinced he hadn't died as he lay in the afterglow.

He was quickly snapped out of it however when he realised that Macaque was intending to clean up the mess he'd made with his tongue. Face burning, he had trapped him against his chest with a strangled, "Don't you dare!"

Macaque had found this hysterical, even as he complained that now he'd gotten his mess on both of them. Macaque had been almost unbearably smug about his performance, and there was literally nothing that Wukong could say to bring him down a peg because it was undeniable how thoroughly Macaque had rocked his world.

He had made it abundantly clear that this wasn't something he wanted to happen every time though. It had been amazing, sure, but he still preferred the way they normally did things. Which seemed to puzzle Macaque a fair bit but he was amicable to it as long as he was no longer totally deprived of the pleasure of making him come undone.

Deprived... He was honestly a ridiculous person. But it did help settle his anxiety over not being able to reciprocate. This thankfully did not result in the opposite problem of being worried he now wasn't giving Macaque everything he should when they were together like this. He always let Macaque be the instigator for their more sexual entanglements but all he had to do was direct Macaque away from more "exciting" territory and he took the hint without complaint.

They were getting pretty good at telling each other if there was something they liked or something they would like to try but Wukong refused to voice how badly he wanted Macaque to drop his glamours. It wasn't just his ears or his eye or the magic burn marks he knew were there - all of Macaque's scars were hidden.

And it tormented him slightly that he couldn't explore Macaque's body properly, couldn't learn every inch of it like he wanted to. It'd been a while since they'd discussed their glamours and he had to resist the urge to revisit the subject. He wasn't sure why he felt so reluctant to bring it up. It just felt like he would be asking for too much.

But while he couldn't map out Macaque's real body as he would like, he was starting to get to grips with how best to apply his magic in ways that made Macaque sing and in doing so he felt he was starting to understand Macaque's own magic in ways he never had before.

Kissing and feeling Macaque's skin was almost more for his own pleasure than Macaque's, what really mattered when it came to making Macaque feel good was affecting the magic thrumming beneath the surface and as such he was hyper aware of any little changes in the flow of Macaque's magic.

He couldn't feel the sort of minute detail that Macaque could but that didn't mean he couldn't deepen his understanding of what he could feel and the best way to get magic to respond was with magic.

He'd learnt well before they had started experimenting in the bedroom that just directing more magic to his hands wasn't the key to helping Macaque get the most out of the experience, and sometimes it could just end up being uncomfortable if not actually a bit painful. A little fine control with focused intent was what garnered the best results.

He was still working on how best to direct and control his magic in more sensual situations and even if he did seem to hit on to something good, maintaining that sort of control was difficult even at the best of times, it was made all the more difficult when he was being distracted by Macaque's sighs and moans.

But he was both determined and talented - slowly but surely he was getting better at it. He liked to imagine that one day Macaque might feel ready to let him do even more with his magic, to let it sink into his body and interact with his own. To feel each other in a way that neither of them had ever experienced with another person.

But as heady a fantasy as that was, it was still a long while away from seeing the light of day and it was definitely something that they needed to figure out outside of the bedroom first, because he had no idea how to even really go about it and Macaque still struggled with him just casting spells on him.

But overall it was all moving in a positive direction and he was completely enamoured with their deepening intimacy.

Unsurprisingly, it was Macaque that suggested they take it a step further.

--E--

There was nothing to suggest that today's make out session was going to develop well past anything they had done before. It wasn't even a particularly handsy or exciting venture, there was no reason that today should be the day that Macaque broke their kiss to say.

"You should fuck me."

He thinks his mind might have stalled for a second before he came to his senses and reeled back, voice a little higher pitched than he would like, he got out an incredulous, "What!?"

Completely blasé, Macaque responded, "Ah. No. Wait, wait. Let me try that again. That's too crass for your tastes, right? I forgot you prefer more romantic euphemisms." In a sultry voice he tried, "Wukong, I want to feel you inside me. Oh, no, wait, I can do better still - I want you to make sweet love to me."

The swooning really wasn't necessary, although arguably none of his teasing was. But he wasn't wrong, he generally did prefer sweeter, less direct language and he was forever embarrassed by the fact. He blamed Zhū Bājiè, he wasn't sure how it was his fault, but his incessant talk of women must have played some part in why he was less fond of crude language.

But thoughts of his sworn brother had no place here.

Nowhere near as cool and collected as he would like to be, he exclaimed, "Now? Like, right now?"

Macaque's expression was one of pure amusement, "Now was when I was thinking, yes. Unless, of course, you were expecting to be wined and dined first? I think I know where to find some candles and rose petals if that's what you're worried about."

Obviously, it wasn't. But Wukong was realising while he had on occasion imagined what it might be like to with sleep with Macaque, he had never actually thought of how that happened. In his mind they transitioned from not-sex to sex so naturally without ever having discussed it but on reflection there was no way that was how it was going to go down. In fact, it was probably always going to be like this.

With Macaque being a little shit about it.

"I'm not worried about anything! You just caught me off guard! Isn't this something we should, like, talk about first?"

"Oh? What do you need to know?"

One day, he was going to have the upper hand in these situations, he swore, but unfortunately it wasn't today, "Like, I don't know, how do we do this?"

Macaque raised an eyebrow, mirth sparkling in his eyes, "Now I know you know how. That's the one part you've definitely got experience of."

He felt his face redden, "Obviously I didn't mean that how! I meant, how? Because I don't think either of us want a repeat of how we used to do things!"

God knows he didn't, it flew in the face of all the intimacy they'd carefully built together and was not at all what he imagined a proper union between the two of them could be. Not to mention, Macaque would never let him live it down if he couldn't do better than his younger self's monkey instincts.

Macaque snorted, "Yeah, no. That can stay firmly in the past. Well, how do you want to do it?"

"Me? Oh no, you're the one that brought this up. How do you want to do it?"

"You can just say you want to do it missionary. No shame in that."

He buried his face in Macaque's chest, "Ugh. Shut up. Why do you have to be like this? I'm embarrassed, you win, alright? Can we please just talk about this properly?"

Macaque laughed as he brought a hand up to gentle scratch at Wukong's scalp, "Yeah, alright. But I really don't care how we do it but if you have something in mind then let's do it that way."

He looked up at him, "Hold on. Before that, why now? What was so special about today?"

Macaque looked faintly amused, "Special? Nothing. I've been thinking about it for a while and this was just when it felt right to bring it up."

He scowled, "You just did it now to mess with me, didn't you?"

Macaque laughed, "I didn't but I can't say I'm disappointed with your reaction. That was great. But tell me, when would you have preferred I brought it up?"

If he was honest, there was probably no time or place where he would have been prepared but it was the principle of the thing. He pouted, "I don't know. It's not like it matters anyway. But... You want to do this, right?"

"That is why I brought it up. You not feeling as keen on the idea?"

A little awkwardly he admitted, "It's not that. I guess, I just don't really know how to... Obviously, I get the basics but, I don't know, just talk me through the plan here."

"The plan is pretty bare bones - you get us some lube, we figure out a position and get to it. I really don't know what else to tell you."

He frowned, "You're missing a step, aren't you? You need to prepare in some way, don't you?"

Macaque shrugged, "If pain was something I could feel then yeah but we'll be fine without it. Lube will be enough."

He pushed himself up so he could smack Macaque's arm and glare at him, "Just because you can't feel it, doesn't mean you can't get hurt. That is literally the last thing I want to happen."

Macaque just rolled his eyes, "Fine. Get me some lube and I'll sort it out."

Suddenly bashful, he averted his eyes, "Or, y'know, I could do it...?"

"Either way, we need lube, Wukong. You want to get on that?"

He sat up properly and tore out a hair in order to transform it. He held out the materialised product for Macaque's approval, "Is this ok?" He just wanted to make sure - it's not like he'd ever used his powers to conjure up such a thing before after all.

Belatedly, he realised Macaque couldn't actually see what he'd summoned and he started to read the back of the bottle. He had never really understood how his powers were able to work with so little information to give him such a detailed product - he didn't know what ingredients were supposed to be in this and yet here he was reading what seemed a very accurate ingredient list.

Macaque cut off, a little exasperated, "Somehow I don't think your powers have summoned something dangerous. As long as it's slick I think it will do the job. Are you sure you don't want me to do this?"

Holding the bottle a little defensively, he responded, "I've got this!"

Macaque just rolled his eyes and started shifting until he was lying on his front with a pillow under his hips, "Well, I'm all yours then."

He moved to straddle Macaque's legs and found himself a bit unsure how to proceed. He knew technically what he was supposed to do but... He coughed, "Maybe for the sake of absolute clarity, you can tell me exactly what you want me to do?"

Surprisingly patient, Macaque rested his head on folded arms, "Just lube up your fingers and start with one, when that can move easily enough add another and so on. If in doubt add more lube and take more time. We're in no rush. Foreplay is half the fun after all."

He could do this. He was great at everything! And he was not at all stressed out by the idea that Macaque wouldn't know if he was hurting him. He just had to take his time. He had unbelievable wells of patience. He could do this.

Fingers lubed, he set the bottle down close by, then rested his dry hand on Macaque's backside. He did appreciate the way Macaque's tail wrapped around his bicep comfortingly in response. He swallowed thickly before he started to slowly sink his first finger into him. Only to almost immediately pull it back out when Macaque hissed.

Panicked and concerned, he rambled, "Shit. Are you ok? What happened? Did I hurt you? I didn't mean to-"

Macaque's tail squeezed his arm tightly, "Stop freaking out. You didn't hurt me but you do need to get your magic under control. You may as well have lightning bolts of anxiety coming off your hands. What are you stressing out over?"

Oh shit. He hadn't been thinking about his magic at all.

Stupid.

"I'm sorry! I didn't realise- I- Shit."

With what surely must have involved shadows in some way he soon found himself more or less sitting in Macaque's lap, their faces inches apart, "Wukong, it's fine. I should have realised that feeling your magic inside me would be more intense than feeling it on my skin. You didn't hurt me. I just wasn't expecting it. Now, tell me what's wrong."

He went to bury his face in his hands before he remembered at the last minute one of them was covered in lube, "I just don't want to mess this up."

"I already told you I could do it."

"No, not that, I mean, yes that but I meant all of it!"

"What exactly do you think you're going to do wrong?"

He cringed as he admitted, "Mac, I'm so stressed I don't even think I can get hard."

Macaque hummed as he brought a hand to his chin, "Well, that would make things a bit more difficult." He didn't seem at all worried or upset about this though and after a moment he flopped back on the bed, dragging Wukong with him, who just about caught himself before crushing Macaque.

"Alright new plan. Forget about the sex. Back to kissing with the option to finger me while you're at it. If you're up for it."

Relief and shame warred within him, "You sure? You wanted to-"

"As established, there's nothing special about today. Why rush? There's clearly an element we didn't anticipate - let's figure that out first."

"You're not disappointed or something?"

Laying it on thick, Macaque responded, "Oh, you're right. I just hate kissing you and I absolutely don't want us both to enjoy ourselves. What was I thinking?"

"Alright, alright. I get it. Still, I'm sorry for... y'know..."

Macaque just rolled his eyes and dragged his head closer to his, so their lips were inches apart, "How about you make it up to me by showing me what those magic hands of yours can do?"

It was so easy to fall back into the familiar, to pick back up where they'd been before Macaque had suggested kicking things up a level, and as much as it settled his nerves it also stoked a fire within him. He could make Macaque feel good, he knew how to do that, he wanted to do that.

Passion bled into their kiss and he allowed his hands to wander, tracing over every inch of chartered territory, determined to make Macaque feel good. He refused to let him reciprocate, which normally would have Macaque not-so quietly amused but he was clearly enjoying his undivided attention too much to interrupt it with their normal banter.

He had perfect control over his magic, not even his own building arousal was enough to let him falter in his single minded pursuit to bring Macaque as much pleasure as possible.

He manoeuvred them both so he could still kiss Macaque and comfortably lay a hand on his backside, fingers creeping slowly towards unexplored territory.

He could do this.

His tail picked up the discarded bottle of lube, tipping it so it drizzled over his fingers and between Macaque's cheeks. Nerves were starting to make themselves known again but he tried to reason with himself. This was just like anything else they had done - he just had to take his time and pay attention to Macaque's reactions.

Don't even think about the sex that could theoretically follow. Just focus on feeling out what was happening right now.

Macaque squeezed his hip reassuringly and Wukong let their kiss lose some of their intensity for a moment to focus on the magic in his hands and the intent that influenced it - he wanted to make Macaque feel good, he wanted him to feel good because he adored him, because he loved him so much he didn't even know what to do with himself half the time.

When he started to sink the first finger into him, he was met with a gasp as Macaque broke their kiss to bury his face into his shoulder. Wukong paused but he didn't pull out, he hadn't sounded pained. He kissed the side of Macaque's head, "Talk to me, Mac. Ok? Not ok?"

A little breathless he responded, "Ok... Just intense. Anyway you could use less magic?"

He frowned as he concentrated, he wasn't actually sure he could, but he tried his best to draw magic away from his fingers while still maintaining control of what was there. He thought he must have been somewhat successful when Macaque slumped against him, "Yeah... Like that... Move?"

It was an odd feeling trying to move magic away from his hands, his fingers felt a little tingly, almost like they had pins and needles. It probably wasn't something he should do for hours at a time but as long as he had a reasonable baseline of magic still present it shouldn't be harmful. They could experiment and test it out a bit more another time.

For now, he focused on Macaque. On how he felt around his finger and on his reactions and both were reassuring him that he in fact would not have any issues getting hard if they chose to go any further than this. Once he felt confident that he had a good handle on his magic, he coaxed Macaque away from his shoulder so he could kiss him again.

Macaque was not someone that lost control very often but the desperate little sounds that occasionally escaped him coupled with the messy way he kissed him suggested to Wukong that he was probably a little powerless in the face of the sensations he was experiencing and it was a hard thing to resist falling into a similar haze.

He was a little torn over drawing this out for as long as possible and wanting to give him more and more to see how high he could bring him. But it was inevitably the former that he went with and it was only Macaque's prompting that got him to add more fingers. Each one required them to pause for a minute as Macaque adjusted to the additional magic.

He was aware that usually finding someone's prostate was supposed to make them feel good but he'd been thorough in his exploration and all that really seemed to pull a reaction from Macaque was how he used his magic and so tentatively he had started to experiment with it.

A particularly clever twist of magic had Macaque throwing his head back and gasping his name and when their eyes met, he knew that they both wanted the same thing. Far huskier than he intended Wukong asked, "How?"

Long past the point of teasing, Macaque kissed him before answering, "However you want."

He was sure Macaque was expecting him to lay him down as he had teased earlier and part of him was tempted - he'd be able to kiss him as pleased and admire every expression that crossed his face - it was definitely how he usually pictured this going but...

He carefully removed his fingers, gingerly wiping them on the bed sheets on a spot away from them before gently pushing Macaque to lie on his side and plastering himself against his back, "Like this...?"

His senses apparently returned to him at least a little, Macaque looked over his shoulder and commented, "Unexpected but I'm not complaining. You're sure?"

He knew this probably wasn't the most comfortable position for either of them, but he wrapped an arm around Macaque and pulled him tightly to his chest, nodding against the back of his neck, as he somewhat bashfully admitted, "I... I like holding you like this."

He couldn't really explain why he wanted it this way but he knew that he almost always craved for Macaque to be wrapped up in his arms or for him to be wrapped up in Macaque's.

Macaque brought Wukong's hand to his lips, kissing his knuckles chastely before affectionately calling him a sap. He tried not to let nerves start to build but he felt the need to ask, "You're sure about this? You really want to do it?"

Macaque responded by letting go of his hand and grabbing the bottle of lube and handing it to him, he sounded a little amused, "Yes, I'm sure. Yes, I really want to do this. And I know you do too."

He did. He really did.

He didn't give himself any time to doubt himself, slicking himself up efficiently before positioning himself at Macaque's entrance. He took a breath, and kissed just below Macaque's ear as he slowly pushed in. His hand quickly moved to grab Macaque's hip in order to steady himself.

Physically, it felt incredible but that wasn't what threatened to overwhelm him. Without involving their magic, this was the closest he could possibly be to Macaque and as he bottomed out, he squeezed his eyes shut and buried his head into the back of Macaque's neck as he willed himself not to cry.

He would never, ever live it down. But god, he loved him so much and he was so unbelievably grateful they could have this. That they'd gotten a second chance and this where it had led them? It felt impossible and yet against all odds they were here, together.

For a split second, he thought he had failed to keep it together but that sniffle hadn't come from him. He immediately propped himself up to try and get a proper look at Macaque's face, "Macaque? Are you ok?"

All he could really see was Macaque hurriedly wiping at his eyes, "Your fault. Fucking feeling so much. Tone it down will you?"

It surprised half a laugh out of him and he leaned his forehead on Macaque's shoulder, "I'm sorry but that's literally impossible."

He brought his hand up to rub Macaque's arm, "Are you alright though? It doesn't hurt?"

Macaque grasped the hand on his arm and pulled it down to hold it close to his chest, "It's intense. Really fucking intense. Doesn't hurt but just give me a minute."

He could have all the time in the world, Wukong was perfectly content right where he was. As he basked in the feeling of being buried in Macaque he realised he probably wasn't controlling his magic as tightly as he had been but admittedly he'd never actually had to manipulate the magic in his dick before.

A little awkwardly he asked, "Uh, is my magic too much? I could try and..."

Macaque's laughter was a little strained but it was genuine, "Not got the same control there as with your hands, huh? Go figures. It's fine. Go ahead and move."

He sort of didn't want to. He didn't want to lose any of the closeness they had. He kept his thrusts slow and shallow, almost trying to bury himself deeper without actually pulling out. And fuck it felt good but he almost didn't care about that, he wanted to figure out how to make it good for Macaque. He couldn't trust himself to mess with his magic like this and if he was being honest the thought of trying to manipulate magic where he was currently joined with Macaque was a little mortifying.

He found himself peppering Macaque's ear with kisses, unable to stop himself from whispering sweet little nothings into it which had Macaque trembling and quietly swearing in response. He choked over his reverent adulation however as one ear became three. His hips bucked unintentionally and it was hard to say whose gasp was louder.

"Fuck, Macaque..."

He didn't know if it was just his ears or if he'd taken all his glamours down but right now all he could focus on was the fact that he hadn't seen even this much of the real Macaque in centuries.

He wanted to take his hand back so he could feel them, so he could reassure himself he was actually seeing them, but Macaque tightened his hold the second he even tried it. He squeezed his hand reassuringly and gently began trailing kisses up the side of his neck towards his ears, giving Macaque plenty of time to tell him to stop.

But he didn't and Wukong tried to hold him impossible closer as his lips acquainted themselves with all three of his ears. It really struck him as he did so that sound was one of the only reliable ways Macaque had to perceive the world around him. Sound, magic and shadows. That was how he was experiencing them together right now.

He wasn't sure if it would work or even if it was a good idea but as he started up his litany of praise and adoration once more he spoke them as if they were an incantation, just the barest hint of magic behind every word but the effect was immediate.

A gasp and a strangled moan before Macaque let go of his hand so he could grasp Wukong's hair and pull him closer to his ears, as if he couldn't bear the thought of him even thinking of pulling away, of him stopping for even a moment.

This left his hand free to discover whether all of Macaque's glamours were down and as he felt along his chest and his abdomen he could immediately feel every scar that had been hidden away.

It was him. It was the real him and Wukong wanted to know every inch of him, wanted Macaque to never deprive him of all of him ever again.

Everything that wasn't Macaque was gone from his mind. All that mattered was filling his ears with words of devotion, mapping out every inch of his skin with hands and being as close to him as possible. He needed to know how much he loved him, how he couldn't stand to ever be without him.

He was vaguely aware of how heavily he was panting, of how urgently his hips snapped, of how close he was but it was all lost under a constant litany of Macaque, Macaque, Macaque.

He didn't think much of it when Macaque let go of his head to desperately hold his hand to his chest again, the sting of his nails cutting into his hand barely registering. It all came to a stuttering halt however at Macaque's desperate plea.

"Wukong! Stop!"

It took half a moment for the words to properly register but once they had, he all but froze, panting heavily as he pushed himself up to try and look at Macaque, "What's wrong? Are you alright? Macaque...?"

He had buried his face into the bed but Wukong could see how tightly his good eye was scrunched shut and he was bordering on hyperventilating. Wukong pulled out as carefully as he could but it still seemed to pull a small sob from Macaque. Alarmed, he tried to ask again what was wrong but words seemed beyond Macaque at the moment.

He still had a deathly grip on his hand however so he decided the best thing he could do was try and get him to calm down first. He tried to get his own breathing under control before trying to encourage Macaque to copy him, uttering reassurances between deep breaths.

After several stressful minutes, Macaque calmed enough to choke out, "Sorry. Fuck. I'm sorry. Too much. Couldn't handle it. I didn't-"

He immediately tried to soothe him, "Hey. Hey. It's ok. You absolutely don't need to apologise. I'm the one that's sorry. I should have realised- I'm sorry I-"

"Stop. Please. Don't- It was me. It's always me."

He couldn't let that fester, "That's not true! Macaque, you did nothing wrong. We just moved a little too fast. That's all. Everything is fine. We're fine. You're fine."

He couldn't deny that he was equally trying to reassure himself. But even if he was feeling immeasurably guilty, what mattered right now was Macaque.

Who had let go of his hand in order to push himself up and turn himself round. Wukong's breath caught as he finally got to see his unglamoured face properly. He was so enraptured he almost missed Macaque's intentions as he reached down and rambled, "I can still do this. It doesn't have to be a total disaster. I can still make you feel good. I-"

Wukong stopped him before he could get anywhere near touching his dick. Macaque was crazy if he thought that's what he cared about, "Macaque, that is literally the least important thing right now."

He sat up so he could bring his free hand to gently rest beneath Macaque's scarred eye and, voice choked with awe, he said, "It's you. It's really you."

He wanted to stare at his face forever, take in every little detail of how it had changed, to map it all with careful hands, to cup his ears and find out if they still faintly glowed. Beautiful was not a word that felt appropriate, but despite the roiling emotions he was feeling, in that moment all he could think was how blessed he truly was to be able to see him like this.

He let go of Macaque so he could bring his other hand up to gently wipe away the tears that were escaping his good eye, "Macaque..."

Macaque ducked out of his hold to bury his face against his chest and Wukong went with the motion bringing them both back to the mattress as he wrapped his arms around Macaque.

Macaque's distress was clear, "I wanted this. I wanted to be able to do this so badly."

He rubbed Macaque's back, trying to comfort him, "I know... We might still be able to. We just need to take our time, figure out how to make it work for us."

Macaque hiccupped as he responded, "I just wanted this to be something we could have. Without having to work around whatever I am now. Like we always have to. I just wanted..."

Wukong kissed the top of his head and hushed him, "I know."

"It was good. It was so good right until it wasn't and I just couldn't..."

It eased his guilt ever so slightly that Macaque hadn't suffered through the whole thing but the question of how long had he not noticed the shift ate away at him, he felt himself tear up slightly, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I didn't notice. The last thing I ever wanted to do was to hurt you."

His apology just seemed to make Macaque feel worse, "Wukong, it wasn't you, you didn't do anything wrong. Fuck, you wanted this to be something special and I ruined it."

He felt they were on the precipice of an endless spiral of blaming themselves for what went wrong and as much as he wanted to make Macaque see that it was his fault and to beg for his forgiveness, it wasn't helping either of them right now.

"You didn't ruin anything and it was special. It was more than I could have ever imagined - it was incredible, you were incredible. You are incredible. Emotions are just running a little high right now. I know we need to talk about it but right now all I want to do is hold you and never let you go."

Feeling overwhelmed with the feeling, he choked out, "I love you." He buried his head in Macaque's hair and held him tightly, "I love you so much."

Sounding equally emotional, Macaque responded, "I know... I love you too. More than I could ever tell you."

Very little was said after that with Macaque falling asleep before too long, clearly exhausted from the emotional rollercoaster, and Wukong knew he wasn't long behind him but even as tired as he was he couldn't help but lightly run his hands over the scars he could reach in this position, trying to commit all of them to memory before they were hidden away again.

The morning was going to bring some difficult conversations but as he slowly drifted off all he could think about was how grateful he was to have Macaque here in his arms.

--Chapter End--

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LMK Fanfic Masterlist

[pain-in-the-riri]

Opening Lines

Oooh ty for the tag @wordsofwilderness!

Sorry in advance, here's the intro to my upcoming fic Motoboy don't hate me

---

"What on earth are you wearing?"

Walburga Black's sharp voice hits Sirius like a whip and he flinches, pausing uncertainly in his task of lacing the aglets of his shoelaces through his big, stomping, fuck-off Doc Martens. He glances up briefly at his mother, who is hovering unpleasantly in the doorway of the mudroom that leads to the foyer, but doesn't make eye contact and continues lacing his shoes, focusing on threading the things up as quickly as possible. He briefly wishes slip-on shoes were in any way as cool as Docs — it would make it easier to sneak out of the house without being noticed — but they simply aren't.

"It's the last day," he says, aiming for casual and unbothered and likely missing the mark. "Everyone is dressing down for the last day, it's like, a thing."

Walburga scoffs, and Sirius yelps as she yanks him by the ear into a standing position, one shoe half-laced and one foot still in just a sock. "My son is not about to graduate school looking like some sort of derelict," she hisses, dragging him along by the ear back into the house, the sharp click of her heels followed by the clumsy stomp-shuffle of Sirius's half-shoed feet being pulled behind echoing through the tall-ceilinged hallways as he attempts not to trip over his laces. "Not only will anyone who's anyone be there, but everyone is coming directly here once the school day is finished for the graduation gala, and I'm not having you waltzing in not ready for guests!"

"But everyone is dressing down today!" Sirius whinges as Walburga all but tosses him back into his bedroom by the ear. He tries to rub the stinging pain away once she lets go. "It's a tradition!"

"Tradition! Tradition is looking your part!" Walburga storms across the room and yanks a sharp suit from Sirius's closet, and drapes it over the foot of his bed. "Tradition is not embarrassing your mother and father!"

Sirius opens his mouth to speak again, but she smacks him sharply across the cheek with her open hand. She doesn't hit him particularly hard, but it does sting, and he looks away from her and pulls his lips between his teeth, fighting his every instinct not to talk back, because he knows she'll hit harder next time.

"Change. Now."

Sirius takes a deep breath, rolls his shoulders, and begins changing into the suit. She waits until she's sure he's doing it before giving him privacy.

tagging: @swifty-fox @m00neroni @futurequibblerjournalist @kaaaaaaarf @kaleidoscopexsighs

[afterthegreatunknown]

A Headcanon Regarding the Violet’s Father Debate

Beatrice Baudelaire. A talented actress and performer whose charming ways wins anyone over, who has a high-standing rank due to being a Baudelaire, one of two oldest VFD Families. And with a great dislike for it, this defaults Beatrice getting more respect and recognition.

Such respect and recognition surely mean Violet Baudelaire’s father is also of equal standing.

And Bertrand B. is one of equal standing. While new to the organization, he became The Golden Boy™ of his generation. He is the volunteer who all the older volunteers of the previous generation think can do no wrong. He is the volunteer in Bertrand’s generation who is well-respected and generally like.

But Lemony Snicket is also of equal standing, and it’s not just because he’s born into an old VFD Family. A trouble-making volunteer, he can show how driven he is when it comes to goals, which is admirable to those of his generation. And his devotion to those he cares for makes him well-liked and generally respected.

Clearly, Beatrice having two lovers that are evenly match means almost everyone should spend time debating the biological identity of Violet Baudelaire’s father. They wouldn’t be doing so if Beatrice, Bertrand, and Lemony told everyone themselves to avoid the debate.

The thing is, the three don’t care. Beatrice, Bertrand, and Lemony, after a very discreet meeting, agree that biological shouldn’t matter to the identity of Violet’s father. They all agree that Bertrand is Violet’s father. Bertrand is the one who was there when Violet was born. Bertrand is the one who [will] raise Violet alongside Beatrice. Bertrand is the one who Beatrice pick to start a family with. And Lemony holds no ill-will towards Bertrand for being the one Beatrice picked, as well as holding no ill-ill towards Beatrice for picking the one who can be there to support her and her child.

With Beatrice, Bertrand, and Lemony having pick their positions, it’s time to know the others.

Team ‘Lemony is Violet’s Bio-Dad’:

Esme (Believes Lemony and Beatrice forgot to use protection. She also thinks it’s amusing and pathetic that Bertrand is raising someone else’s child.)

Kit (More often than not, Kit thinks Violet is Lemony’s child, because she wants Lemony to be around in the most unlikely ways. This led to fights with Jacques.)

Frank (Based off the timing of the breakup and when Beatrice and Bertrand went to the Island. He is convinced they know the truth and lying.)

Ernest (Follows Frank’s logic. However, he thinks Beatrice and Bertrand went to the Island without knowing, so they’re convince Violet isn’t Lemony’s daughter.)

R (Follows Frank’s logic. R also asked Lemony upright, being one the few he kept contact during this time period but got no answer.)

Gustav (Because of all the constant drama, he just picks a side on the fly in case they have to state their opinion on the matter.)

Olivia (Flat out asked Beatrice and Bertrand if Violet is Lemony’s kid, leading to the couple to say no. Olivia is convinced they’re lying to her.)

Ellington (She found copies of ASOUE at a few bookstores, and she draws her own conclusions without any influences what-so-ever.)

Team ‘Bertrand is Violet’s Bio-Dad’: 

Olaf (By ASOUE, he’s running under the logic ‘the couple that slayed together, have kids together.’ Before, Olaf was convinced Lemony is a prude who used protection)

Jacques (As much as he wants Violet to be Lemony’s child, Jacques can never find traces of Lemony in Violet’s face, which lead to many fights with Kit.)

Josephine (Is convinced Violet is a premature child. Due to eventually losing contact with Beatrice and Bertrand, she never got her answer for sure.)

Ike (Due to an ill-spoken rumor that relates to Gregor being Fiona’s biological father, Ike chooses to believe Bertrand isn’t raising someone else’s child.)

Widdershins (Believes the timing works better with Betrand as Violet’s father than Lemony. Might factor with Widdershins believing the false reports of Lemony.)

Miranda (She was after all, on the Island with Beatrice and Bertrand. She knows of Beatrice’s past with Lemony, but Miranda is certain Violet is Bertrand’s child.)

Ishmael (Arrived on the Island when Beatrice was in her Third Trimester, and therefore assumed Betrand is the father. He did briefly consider Lemony is Violet’s biological father after reading the in-universe ASOUE book, but reject it.)

Moxie (Random Headcanon Time! I think there’s several Editors: Awful Editor, Dreadful Editor, and Kind Editor. Moxie is the Kind Editor, after she and Lemony semi-got back in contact. After hearing everything of the topic from the horse’s mouth that is Lemony, Moxie is all, “Yeah, Bertrand is Violet’s father.”)

Team: ‘Wait, are you serious? This is an actual topic of debate?’ Also Known as: Team ‘Haven’t decided yet’: 

Fernald (He knew the topic exist because he once saw Kit and Jacques getting into an argument about it, but it’s TEE when Fernald realize it’s a serious topic because Olaf and Esme ask about his stance and panic answers, “Unsure.”).

The rest of the Acting Troupe (Olaf and Esme started to argue about it again post TVV but pre-THH. They asked Fernald if they should get involve. Fernald tells them not to worry over it for now and they roll with it.)

Hugo, Colette, Kevin (Olaf and Esme got into another argument in TPP but because they’re the only remaining ‘Troupe’ left they can’t ask anyone what the hell they’re talking about so they’re just confused.)

The rest of the Associates (Whenever Ellington shows up to visit Moxie, the two sometimes get into arguments about it. Everyone is quiet when it happens. While they know Moxie is in contact of sorts with Lemony, they have no idea how serious of a topic it is between the two women until they see the arguments themselves.)

Team ‘Bertrand is Violet’s Bio-Dad’…but only because they have no idea of the theory Lemony is Violet’s Bio-Dad:

All of the Unfortunate Generation (Why should they know?)

Dewey (He was hiding away from the world before Fiona was born. Him meeting Violet when Beatrice and Bertrand visiting him was a nice, sweet surprise, and the couple didn’t want to ask if he heard of the theory from his brothers to ruin said meeting. Ernest and Frank —and later on Kit and others who do visit Dewey— never told Dewey their opinion because they want Dewey to be happy for his friends getting together and having a daughter/eventual family.)

Monty (He was traveling when the Violet’s Father Debate was at its highest, and came back after Beatrice and Bertrand’s return, when Violet was almost one year old. No one told Monty their opinions/informed him of the theory Lemony is Violet’s Bio-Dad because they want Monty to be happy his friends got together and had a daughter/eventual family while away.)

Charles (Think Bertrand is Violet’s Bio-Dad because Kit told him via letter when she was [back to] thinking Bertrand is Violet’s Bio-Dad.)

Hector (Isolated at the Village of Fowl Devotee after Fiona was born, but before Violet was born. Thinks Bertrand is Violet’s Bio-Dad due to Ike and Josephine.)

Georgina (Began her isolation in Paltryville before Violet was born, so the last things she heard is “Lemony is dead” and “Beatrice and Bertrand went to the Island.” Upon hearing word Beatrice and Bertrand came back from the Island and they now have a baby, Georgina is convinced Bertrand took advantage of Beatrice’s grief)

Phil + Hal (Naturally assumes the Baudelaires share the same father; in Phil’s case being on the Crew of Two on the Queequeg has Widdershins never telling him about this debate, and in Hal’s case Kit didn’t think about telling him about the debate)

Theodora + Jerome (Also naturally assumes that the Baudelaires share the same father. Both knew Beatrice and Lemony were a thing. Jerome figured Beatrice only decided to raise a family after becoming serious with Bertrand. In Theodora’s case, she believed Beatrice got pregnant on the Island, and it went from there.)

Half of the Original Schism Generation (Ex: Monty’s Sister, Adeline. Follows Theodora’s logical because it makes the most sense.)

Team ‘Can You All Shut the Ever-Loving F*CK UP’: 

Sally (Hearing the debate so much got to where Sally wanted to hear nothing about Beatrice, Bertrand, and Lemony for weeks. It got so bad, she once stopped talking to Gustav and other associates’ mid-way in conversations whenever it’s brought up.)

Larry + Haruki (Would have picked a side if people kept it as a minor thing but it got too large of a matter at hand, and two collectively went, “Fuck you we pick none!”)

Raymond ‘Q’ Quagmire + Joan Quagmire + Joan’s Triplet Sisters’ Alex and Lindsey (Raymond and Joan made cards that says if anyone brings up the topic in any of their presence, they have to pay a $1000 dollar fine. Alex and Lindsey made it a permanent ban topic by threatening everyone to change the fine to $10, 000 dollars)

Thursday (Miranda never told him the theory about Lemony being Violet’s Bio-Dad. He only knows about because Kit unnecessary told him the theory without him having a choice on the matter on day over a cup of Turkish coffee. Whenever Kit tries to bring it up again Thursday excuses himself from the table and hides out in the restroom/makes an excuse to cut their meeting short.)

TMWBBNH and TWWHBNB (Think the Baudelaires are small potatoes in the grand schemes of things. It’s not their concern and they are able to get Olaf and Esme to shut up about it before they even argue about it whenever around.)

Team Dead and Therefore Excluded:

Pretty much any dead character by the ASOUE Period, canonically or assumed otherwise (Ex: Gregor, the other half of the Original Schism Generation like Dashiell, N Caliban because I headcanon N is dead, and others not mentioned here.)

[moldygreenblue]

random ishmael headcanon back when he was a chemistry teacher (warning of a child’s death at beginning and abuse/corporal punishment at the end):

at the high school ishmael once taught chemistry at, there are six groups students are sorted into. these groups were not made or name by ishmael, but by the students themselves.

the first group is known as the favorites or teacher’s pets. they’re students who pass ishmael’s classes with flying colors. these students likes ishmael (or tolerate him), and ishmael likes them back. he talks of these students as the brightest and most intelligent of their generation. he calls them in class and is happy to hear them answer correctly, or gently tells them how they answer wrong. ishmael is proud to be their teacher, and will always do something for them, sometimes without even being ask.

[one such favorite student, d snicket, later known as d anwhistle, got ishmael to help her long after graduation. d got ishmael to help her and her husband into blackmailing vfd to return gregor back into their care after he and his younger sister helen recruitment gone wrong. helen, like lemony, was drop out of the car and fell. unlikely lemony, helen didn’t survive.]

the second group is known as the suck-ups. they’re students who also pass ishmael’s classes with flying colors too, and like (or tolerate) ishmael. however, ishmael doesn’t like them back. he talks of them as fine, hard working students, but nothing more (he won’t do anything for them). they’re students who speak out without permission to get praise, which annoys ishmael (and other students) very much. in short, they’re wannabes favorites/teacher’s pets, always jealous of those who do get ishmael’s good graces.

[one suck up, c baudelaire, wasn’t happy to learn his daughter beatrice earned ishmael’s ire. c got more upset at beatrice gaining ishmael’s ire when discovering how d’s eldest son gregor, got into ishmael’s good graces. history repeats itself in the strangest of ways.]

the third group is known as the lucky bunch. they’re students who pass ishmael’s classes with ease of usually the average grade or slightly above average grade. ishmael has some minor problems with them, but they’re good enough students to not complain about. he’ll also do something for them on their behalf if they ask very politely. these students tend to have issues with ishmael (mainly his strictness), they but keep these complaints only to those who are in the same group as them.

[one student, dorothea s. markson, later known as the woman with hair but no beard, got ishmael to give a good word to the v.f.d teacher running the mock trial program to allow her in after asking ishmael politely before school started. dorothea thinks the teacup she got for him helped.]

the fourth group is known as the troublemakers. it doesn’t matter if they have failing grades, average grades, or even pass with flying colors. these students dislike ishmael, and ishmael dislikes them back, though he says it through creative means sometimes disguise as praise. battle of wits and pranks will occur in class. if it doesn’t end in a stalemate (which it usually does), the student(s) gets sent to detention (seen as an escape) or gets sent to the principal (seen as a fate on par with death).

[e snicket is one of these troublemakers. e can’t figure out how could d like ishmael as a teacher, and ishmael can’t figure out how d and e are vastly different from another. e is one of the few to never get sent to the principal, for she plays it safe in her battles.]

the fifth group is known as the ignored ones. it too, doesn’t matter if they have failing grades, average grades, or even pass with flying colors. these students live to their name: ignore. ishmael never calls them in class, and the few interactions given are brief, like ‘hello’ or ‘goodbye’. ishamael has to think a bit of the student before giving an opinion on them if a fellow teacher ask for his thoughts. the students don’t mind being ignore. granted, it depends if ishmael can recall their names.

[s. theodora markson is one such ignored student. ishmael remembers her more than other ignored students though because her wild hair is even wilder than her sister’s hair, and the fact her first name has ishmael always thinking of one particular duke ellington song.]

the sixth and final group is known as ‘the favs’. these failing or almost failing students or slightly below average students dislike ishmael, but ishmael “likes” them. ishmael calls on them in class, praising them if they answer right, but humiliates them if they answer wrong. he worries over them, but rarely acts on it. ishmael is affectionate to them -sometimes giving them gentle pat on the back or ruffles their hair- as well as physically abusive to them -sometimes slapping across the face or canes their hands. in short, hell.

[this group has many non-vfd affiliated students here. one student was a quiet boy who loves nature and jazz. said student eventually grows up and joins an organization that was later falsely accused of a bombing suspected to be done by vfd themselves.]

[amiharana]

ok I was reading thru your tattoo/flower shop au and I had to share the brainrot.

I hc revali as indigenous (particularly great plains native american) and oh man, what if at some point he very hesitantly brings up with link that he wants to get facial tattoos or something similar that's significant to him but he's nervous?? And Link goes out of his way to learn traditional stick-n-poke techniques so he can be the one to give revali his tattoos?? And it's like super sweet and meaningful for them both and Link feels honored that revali trusts him enough to ask? (and also revali is scared shitless and Link has to stop several times so he doesnt mess up and hurt revali more than it typically would)

like what if though???

ahem (taps mic) Hello can anyone hear me. i haven't written a tumblr ask in ages i feel ancient

first of all, i'm glad to hear that you still think of my tattoo/flower shop au haha it's been way over a year now since i wrote it. i still very much appreciate everyone who drew art for it 🫶 i've had a few passing thoughts about writing it into an actual proper multi-chaptered fic but i've been busy wrestling with school, work, and my personal demons for the past year that it's been quite difficult to even think about writing anything. thank you to anyone who's still here; i appreciate you a lot 🤍

i love the hc of revali as indigenous and i think it really fits in with the presence of the rito people as we're introduced to in the games, but i won't touch on that too much since i'm not indigenous/well-versed in indigenous culture. you know what i Am well-versed in though? these gay ass mfs

i had to reread my own au post for this Lord it's been too long, i wrote back then that i thought of revali as someone who isn't too fond of tattoos and doesn't have a great pain tolerance for them, and i still believe in that LOL. mixing that in with a hc where revali is indigenous is quite interesting, because i would assume that tattoos are an important/frequently appearing aspect of the culture? revali's parents have also passed in this au and he's alone with no family running the shop, so perhaps revali was estranged from his indigenous culture while growing up/at some point and became interested in trying to connect with it as an adult. maybe he came across the topic of traditional tattoos and after researching about it, he became interested in getting one but again because of his low pain tolerance, he thought it probably may never happen. well...

during one of their shared lunch breaks perhaps at a new cafe that's opened up on tabantha street, revali absentmindedly mentions his family and the tattoos. link immediately looks up at him from his food, those lovely blue eyes searching his face curiously.

"traditional tattoos?" he says, cocking his head at revali. revali blinks. well, of course link would have interest in the topic since he was a fellow tattoo artist himself, but the way he was looking at revali was...

"well yes," revali continues. "i suppose i haven't really talked to you much about myself personally, have i? i'm an indigenous hyrulean and my blood is descended from the rito tribe, but i'm not well-versed in my own culture." he mumbles the last few words, looking down at his coffee. "my parents and i lived on reservation land until i was 5 and then we moved away to a bigger city for work. there weren't many other rito there and so i didn't grow up with a lot of other indigenous folk. i don't know much about my family or my culture because of it, and even after my parents passed, it's never come up until now." revali glances back at link, who is now watching him with rapt attention. he looks away again, his cheeks beginning to warm. "i thought it would be nice to connect with my culture by getting a traditional tattoo of the rito tribe, perhaps something small so i can handle it. though, i wouldn't be able to travel to the reservation to find a traditional tattooist because of the shop and neither do i know of any tattoo artists nearby that could do it..."

"i'll do it," link says suddenly. revali looks at him again and blinks. link's eyes are bright and wide, blazing with determination. he's still holding his sandwich in his hands.

"i-i couldn't ask that of you," revali says, heart skipping a beat. "you'd likely have to learn an entire new and unfamiliar technique, and—"

"i'll do it," link insists, placing the sandwich down and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. his eyes are still trained on revali, just as insistent as his mouth is. revali swallows.

"use a napkin, please," he mutters, passing link one. the blond takes it and grins at him. "if it's something that you greatly desire to do... i will assist you in offering as much information as i can. i... appreciate it, link." i appreciate you, he thinks but the words get stuck in his throat. link's smile only grows.

thinking about link who researches rito tribal tattoos for a few weeks and reporting and discussing his findings with revali during their mon/wed lunch breaks. thinking about link who spends countless nights staying up compiling everything he finds into a document, the different types of tribal tattoos and their meanings, researching the materials and tools needed for traditional tattoos, sketching different tribal symbols endlessly for the perfect one for revali in between tattoo sessions with other clients, thinking about where on revali's body it would go, thinking about revali's warm skin under his hands... let's keep it PG link 🫡

the day finally arrives when link introduces the tattoo sketches to revali. link probably shows him a few ideas of a small rito symbol on his fingers, wrist, deltoid, ankle, and even ribs. HOWEVER. i really like the idea of the winged rito symbol across the back of revali's shoulders to represent his wings in canon? so what if. link who sketched a drawing of revali's back muscles with the winged rito symbol and he doesn't mean to show it to revali since it's a much bigger tattoo than revali wanted, but revali happens upon it anyway while scrolling through the sketches on link's ipad.

"what's this one?" revali says pointing at it.

link glances over at the screen and flushes. "oh, i didn't mean for you to see this one," he murmurs. he uses two fingers to zoom in on the image slightly. "i just had an idea for this particular symbol, so i sketched it out because i thought it'd look nice. i know you wanted a smaller one, so we can just focus on the first sketches—"

"it's beautiful," revali cuts him off, voice soft and still looking at the winged sketch. "how much do back tattoos hurt?" and link is jaw dropped, staring at him with hearts in his eyes LMFAOOOOOOOO

thinking about link who actually reaches out to a traditional tattooist from revali's tribe and asks if he can mentor link so he can learn their technique??? maybe link and revali who end up traveling to the reservation together so revali can visit and link can learn directly from the tattooist??? revalink road trip and sharing a bed trope??? link would probably only take a week tops to learn the technique since he's like a prodigal artist and the tattooist is impressed. also revali getting to spend time with and learn more about his culture from others from the tribe who live there 🥺

if revali does get the winged rito symbol tattoo on his back, he probably wouldn't get it as a solid color, maybe link would incorporate more tribal lineart into it like the totk zonai imagery? i've never gotten a tattoo so i don't know if back tattoos or the style of solid color tattoos would hurt, but regardless, link would make revali as comfortable as he can throughout all the sessions ��🥺🥺

originally when i read this ask and you mentioned facial tattoos, i thought about link gently holding revali's jaw between his pointer finger and thumb to readjust the positioning of his face in the midst of tattooing him, and revali sucking in a breath at the contact WAHHHH but with the direction i took with this post, i also thought about link laying a flat palm between revali's shoulder muscles, feeling the warmth of his skin and tracing his shoulder blades with a featherlight touch and revali getting flustered but muttering, "are you going to keep me in suspense?"

link traces a line down revali's spine. "are you sure you want to get this tattoo?" he murmurs. "we can still do the smaller ones instead if you want. i know how you feel about it, with your pain tolerance and all."

revali snorts, trying to mask his nervousness. "i've already made up my mind. it's a beautiful piece that you put a lot of thought into and i'm not backing out now. besides..." revali's voice lowers into a mumble. "i wouldn't have gone through with it if it was anyone else. i trust you."

link's cheeks pinked in the sweet way they do when revali catches him off-guard, but he can't take it back. he doesn't want to take it back, because it's true; revali trusts link for this with everything he has.

hhh . AHHHH . i just think. yeagh.

[deiaiko]

#19.3 Unravel

It had been some time since Agni felt this nervous. Not even talking with Jinsung Ha recently had made him feel like this. He fiddled with the mask on his hand as he waited for Grace to come back. He had thought hard on how to deliver the news, but he knew that no matter how he phrased it, Grace would be upset. Velt nuzzled under his palm and Agni gave her a few pats, before deciding that she would be better inside her bowl in his lighthouse, just in case the shinsu acted up around Grace after he received the news.

Grace came back wearing the comfiest shirt and shorts Agni knew Grace liked to wear on lazy days. He joined him on the floor, and they ate dinner together. Agni always finished last, so while waiting for him to finish his meal, Grace told him about his day with Bam. Grace was intrigued by how much his way of thinking had changed, and how glad he was to be able to be by Bam's side when he was having a bad day. It reminded Agni of the hidden floor, when Grace faced his sworn enemy.

They left the used bowls on the coffee table and went to brush their teeth. Afterwards, they turned off the light and went upstairs to sit on their bed. Grace's curious gaze never left him, and Agni curled his feet nervously.

Grace was the one who broke the silence. "So…what is it?"

Agni's breath hitched. This was the part he dreaded most. "I talked with the crocodile earlier. Did you know that he could manipulate stone already?"

"Huh." Grace needed a few seconds to let the information sink in. "Didn't Rak learn it on the Hell train? How does he know it?"

"Turns out our crocodile also traveled back to the past like us. He found the young crocodile and taught him."

"What?!" Grace gasped, wide eyed. "That means our Rak is–!!"

"He's dead." Agni quickly snuffed out that hope. They had been in delusion for long enough; it was time that they faced the bitter truth. "He suffered a fatal injury from the explosion. He couldn't have lasted long without proper help." Agni omitted the actual cause for Rak's death, but still kept his words true. "I'm sorry."

"…Oh." Grace looked lost, just like Agni was. His lips parted a little, but they closed before any sound escaped.

Agni gently squeezed Grace's hand, encouraging and comforting as he let the silence stretch on, giving Grace some time to process the information.

"Agni…" Grace whispered, "do you think Hatz and Isu…?"

Agni bit his lip and avoided his gaze, as the nightmare of that day replayed in his mind. He witnessed Hatz get his arm ripped off when trying to protect him. He could still recall the clang of a sword hitting the floor, and Hatz's suppressed scream that gnawed deep at his guilt. He witnessed Isu get beheaded after being taken hostage, the memory of warm blood painting them both still vivid like it happened yesterday. 

Agni refused to acknowledge their possible deaths, because it felt like a nightmare that one day he could hopefully wake up from. He avoided the topic when Grace brought it up, so he wouldn't have to say it aloud and make it real. He had been so hard on himself, because he couldn't get rid of the feeling that he had failed Grace and everyone else involved.

Agni knew this had to change if he wanted to live better, now that they had gotten a second chance. So he swallowed down the lump in his throat that had built up over the years and asked mostly to himself; "What are the odds of their survival?"

"There's always a chance–"

"Grace." Agni looked him straight in the eye. "They were already severely injured before the explosion hit."

Grace fell silent and went still.

Agni felt a pang of guilt upon witnessing Grace's reaction. "Sorry. I didn't mean to snap." Agni fiddled with his hands. He realized that he didn't know how much Grace knew of what happened. "My scar…do you know how I got it?"

"I…was told it was from the family heads' battle." Grace looked thoughtful. Agni knew he was trying to be careful with his words. "A stray attack?"

"It could have been worse." The memory of the scorching heat on his skin felt like it had only happened yesterday. He passed out right when he was about to heal Isu, and only found out later that he also lost sweetfish at that time. The days he spent recovering from the burn, to withstand the excruciating pain every second he was conscious, and finally coming to terms that it'd be a permanent scar, was one of the turning points that had changed him forever. Were Grace not there to care for him, he might have ended up destroying himself even more.

Agni hadn't realized he had his left hand clawing on his cheek until Grace pried his hand off and frowned, "You're doing it again."

"Maybe I should wear the mask…" Agni muttered to himself. After all, Grace gave it to him less so he could hide the scar but more to prevent him from unconsciously hurting himself. The only time he could safely take it off was when Grace was around.

Agni bit his lip nervously when Grace didn't reply. He no longer had the courage to look Grace in the eye that spoke so much concern, so he leaned close and rested his head on Grace's chest. "Rak, Isu, Hatz and Hwaryun were trying to get me out of that damned place. But we were caught while escaping, and…it was a bloodbath. I was…too occupied to react to the incoming heat. Rak shielded us from the explosion. And when I woke up…"

"They weren’t with you," Grace finished it for him after Agni trailed off a moment too long.

Agni nodded dazedly, "I've been telling myself that they're still alive, after a blow that could kill rankers. But…who am I kidding? I was lucky enough to survive with just this little–" Agni vaguely pointed to himself– "inconvenience."

Agni felt a hand gripping his arm, and he pulled away to see Grace looking at him with a pained expression. His eyes were glossy and his lips were pulled into a thin line. Trusting his instinct, Agni reached out to gently trace and cup Grace's cheek with his free hand.

"I'm sorry," Agni muttered. "I'm sorry, for not telling you sooner."

Agni silently witnessed tears that streamed down on his love's face. It was a bitter sight that Agni wished he'd never have to see again, that he had tried to avoid for so long by not telling him. He pulled Grace in and held him close to his chest, as if Agni was trying to gather his own crumbled heart back together.

Grace mumbled their late best friends' names as he held onto him tighter, shaking from each breath he took between sniffles.

Agni felt his own eyes sting with unshed tears. He remembered the years he spent climbing the tower together with his old team. Despite their banter being his source of headaches, Agni knew he too had come to acknowledge them as his cherished friends. Only when they were gone did Agni realize how much he'd miss having them around. Seeing the younger them didn't exactly close the gaping hole in his heart, but at least the emptiness was more filled.

Agni squeezed Grace tighter. "We have their younger selves with us now. We will protect them better this time."

Grace only nodded and sank further into his embrace. And Agni planted kisses on his hair, relishing the thought that after everything he had gone through, Grace was still a constant in his life. As long as he had him, everything would be okay.

When Grace started shaking again, Agni caressed his hair and hummed a comfort song they had known by heart. Still, it didn't make falling asleep any easier for Agni, especially not after admitting that his nightmare was very much real. However, as he had been through grief…this, too, would pass.

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[normalestenstars]

I’m gonna try so hard to manifest a valk 50/50 this round

good luck!! though part of me thinks it'd be funny if shu won this round too... the normalest not normal character ever

[synnthamonsugar]

Hello, Eris Morn Fan... I want to play a game.

The rules are simple: You have 6 hours to write a fanfic, draw fanart, construct a lore essay, meta post, or other piece of Eris-centric speculative or creative content. However, in the course of creating this ... you must exclude The Drifter from her narrative. Platonic or romantic. As a co-starring character, or referential callback.

Not even a "trust" will be permitted.

Should you fail, Seth Dickinson will write into the next Collector's Edition booklet a scene where Eris comes out as lesbian and/or some combination of aro/ace, instantly collapsing both the D2 team's and fandom's interest in her as a beloved piece of M/F ship-bait and romantic prize for the funnyguy of the moment, the only two things women in this fandom (like most fandoms) are allowed to be.

Work quickly... time is running out.

[bonefall]

So what do your leaders do all day? In the cannon clans it seems like they just sit around at camp all day and let the deputies do all of the work. Until the plot needs them anyway.

Leaders are given 9 lives for a very important purpose; they are supposed to live as their Clanmates do, understand them, and guide them as shining examples of what a warrior should be.

A leader who's inaccessible is considered a failure. Clans can't do anything about this until ASC and it's rare to begin with, but their clan WILL get upset about it.

Patrolling, sparring, hunting, and even cooking are all things a leader should be doing. Is it still very high-pressure? Yes. Ultimate authority rests on them.

So what's a deputy for?

Busywork. Day-to-day decisions that would prevent a leader from actually engaging with clan life. Setting up patrols, gathering news, settling small disputes, etc.

You could consider them a very authoritative secretary. If a Clan is being TOTALLY run by its deputy, that's a problem. If a Clan is BARELY being run by its deputy, that is also a problem.

So, expect to see cats like Firestar just around more often. It's not shocking to see him return from patrol or a little walk, carrying a mouse or two.