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shoyudon · 5 months ago

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dad!choso is on my mind. he’d be the sweetest husband/father to-be. i just know he’d hold our hand the entire time and say things like “i wish i could take this pain away from you.”

𝐌𝐀𝐌𝐀'𝐒 𝐁𝐎𝐘 .ᐟ

keeping up with the choso family

starring. choso x fem! reader

heads up. pregnancy, giving birth, you're in you're 20s during shibuya (around nanami's age), all information are from research.

note. NONNIE, FIRST OF ALL YES. I HAVE SO MANY THOUGHTS ABOUT THIS??? i just know he'd cry during every one of these moments, i'm gonna sob, i miss him so much.

the first time choso met you, he didn't know you'd be his life companion. pushing aside at the fact that you both were enemies at first, being a jujutsu sorcerer assigned to shibuya wasn't really the best circumstances for first meetings — which practically didn't happen smoothly.

long story short, he actually hurts you with his blood manipulation. not enough to kill you, but enough to consider it a 'medical emergency'. he is really sorry about it though; when he saw you protect yuuji despite your injuries, he just knew he had to have you.

choso made it clear that he regretted hurting you — especially when his technique left a scar on your skin. specifically on your shoulder, and your lower abdomen. occasionally pressing his lips onto your scars, the vivid drawings of your stitches still embedded into your skin.

"'m sorry . . ." choso whispers out into your skin, burying his face into your stomach as you both lay down on the bed. once again, he was feeling apologetic for hurting you more than a year ago. every day after shibuya, he was busy apologizing to you for hurting you.

"cho, that was what . . ? more than a year ago? you need to stop apologizing, baby," raking your fingers through his hair, he sighs out in content, leaning his cheek onto your stomach — his arms draped around your thighs.

when he asks you to marry him, he subconsciously did it because he panicked. choso had it all planned for a whole month, and managed to ruin it in three minutes on the day he was going to propose to you because you were just so captivating, he just lost all senses of everything he practiced.

"please, marry me," choso blurts out, his mind going one hundred miles per second — he wasn't even sure if he was conscious at that point, "i love you so much and i can't think of my life without you, please marry me," he whispers, squeezing your hand gently.

choso actually got help from everyone on what to say and what to do, which all went down to drain when he decided to use his heart to propose to you. and it worked out well anyways, "seriously? i'm gonna cry," you fanned your eyes.

believe me when i said that choso was on the edge of his seat, waiting for your answer. when you exclaimed out a happy and tearful, "yes!", he could finally breathe out in relief, raising your hand up to his lips in happiness, slipping the ring he even forgot for a second.

choso actually told himself that he wouldn't cry during his own wedding. months before the reception — he finds himself watching wedding videos and happily kicking his feet at the sight of the groom crying, he believed he wouldn't, because he's seen you everyday. right? right?

wrong. the moment the tall doors opened and there you started walking down the aisle slowly, choso felt overwhelmed at the fact that he was getting married to you, and you were getting married to him. he swore if it wasn't for yuuji, he would be laying down in front of the whole guest list, crying on the ground.

he stood there, instinctively wiping his tears — that were never-ending, and god, you looked so beautiful that all he could see was you. choso felt like it was just you and him at that moment, no guest, no yuuji, just you.

after the ceremony, choso just wanted to go back home and if it weren't for you telling him to wait until everyone goes home, he'd technically kidnap his own wife and bring her back to their home. with a pout and a long face, he greets the guest with you, hand in yours like a little child who didn't get what they want.

"can we go back home now? my legs are killing me," he whispers, squeezing your hand, tugging you towards him, "jus' leave them, they're eating the night away . . ."

"let's wait until everyone goes home, okay?" you tell him. almost wanting to laugh at the sight of his fake offended gasp right after, choso didn't complain anyways — nodding his head as you tugged him towards a group of people to greet them.

when you both got home after a long day, choso immediately headed for the bedroom, tossing himself onto the bed, white shirt wrinkled and his tie messily pulled towards one side. eyelids half closed.

"cho, you know you have to shower before you sleep. you stink."

"mmm . . . wanna sleep," he moans out into the pillow, reaching his hand out to you in an attempt to bring you onto the bed, which did not work since you were too busy wiping off your makeup, "can't we just shower tomorrow? 'm so tired."

choso's never really thought about having kids. he didn't know how to take care of kids, nor how to react with kids. for some reason, the universe though — seemed to have bless him with a wave of "baby fever" one and a half year into the marriage. watching videos of random babies from all over the world doing baby things, and he felt his heart flutter at the sight.

that was when he knew, he wanted a family with you. technically, the two of you were already a family the moment you both got married — but he wanted an addition to your small family. a child.

he didn't really know how to break the fact that he wanted a baby with you, and so he tried subtle ways to do so. showing you baby videos, telling you how cute your kids would be, even pointing at baby shoes or onesies when you both go out.

by that point, you'd caught on to his little scheme, "why're you talking about kids a lot? baby shoes, baby onesies, baby videos, baby this, baby that," you informed him, threading your fingers through his hair as he laid his head on your lap.

"wan' a baby."

so when you broke the news that you were bearing his child, he cried. and by cry — i mean bawled out like a baby. clinging to you, overwhelmed at the fact that he was going to have a child with you, he was actually going to have a little family of his own.

just a few days after the news, he'd grown a lot more protective of your wellbeing. asking here and there about what you could and couldn't eat, or what might harm the growing baby inside you. searching here and there.

during your first trimester, more precisely, during your fifth week; the cravings began getting heavy and wonky. despite all that, choso still indulged in your cravings. hell, he even had to try some because he couldn't say no to you when you tried to share with him.

peanut butter and salmon sashimi, pickle juice with honey, cream cheese and fried chicken, ramen soup popsicles, bacon and toothpaste, milk and ramen seasoning, and more of those odd combinations. choso never did complain even once, if you wanted to eat something at three am, he'd run out and go find some no matter what — you were carrying his child, and he figured that was the least he could do for you.

"taste good, baby?" choso asks you, swiping his fingertips over the cream cheese spread on the corner of your lips.

nodding vigorously, you brought the half-eaten fried chicken messily dipped in the thick and white cream cheese spread — eyes shining brightly, as if asking him to try some with you. blinking in surprise, he took a bite. definitely a weird experience for him, and it was one of the oddest combination of food he had ever tried.

"'ts funny, but it's not bad," he swallowed after chewing the chicken a few times; reaching for the glass of water by the nightstand.

throughout your pregnancy, choso made sure to spoil you with a lot of things. the doll you looked at for a split second while the both of you ventured into the mall, the food he sees you browsing through his phone or your phone, tucking you in bed using the pillow he bought for pregnant women, and the feet massages for you everyday.

"where are you going?" choso asks, rubbing his eyes in exhaustion. the dark spots under his eyes were getting darker every time — it was obvious the changes in his life had made it, but choso was more than enlightened to do it for you.

"want to drink," you whisper, letting out a cute incoherent noise as you tried to roll off the mattress.

choso was quick to hold you back, tucking you inside the bundle of covers, "i'll get it for you, stay here, okay?" he whispers, hopping off the bed to fetch you a glass of water — choso didn't want to keep you waiting, running off to the kitchen and fetching you a glass of water topped with a lot of ice cubes; something he noticed you'd chew on a lot ever since you got pregnant.

"here you go," he walks back carefully, handing you the water, pinching the skin on your nap gently as he watches you gobble the water down, parting your lips to pop in an ice cube or two.

nearing your due date, specifically just a few days after the 37th week — the contractions started. it was the ninth month, and it was expected. choso heard your hushed whimpers in his sleep, he would probably guess it was at dawn, probably around four? he didn't even bother checking on the time because all he cared was you.

he was barely awake, kicking off the covers and helping you. ushering you to slowly breathe in and out, his hand rubbing soothing circles on the hollow of your back. choso figured that he wanted you and the unborn child to be safe, and so he decided to bring you to the hospital where the experts are.

choso was worried beyond anyone else; even you. constantly staying by your side, his hair disheveled; a few strands going the opposite way, and tangled with each other. he laid his head down on the mattress, by your hand. choso laid his hand on your belly, rubbing against the cloth gently to ease the pain from the contractions.

at the early stage of labor, you were feeling cramps and an intense backache — which choso helped you through. he was glad he brought you to the hospital because not long after, your water broke. and he was there to help you through it all, clutching onto your hand as if he was holding on for dear life.

everything that the doctors or the nurses do, he felt his heart beat a notch quicker than earlier. choso was afraid, and he wasn't really afraid to admit it — i mean, you're his wife and you were carrying his child. he didn't want anything to happen to the both of you.

choso heard the doctor explain to him about what was going to happen, but everything that came in from his left ear exits through his right. he could barely remember anything because through out the explanation, he was too busy caring for you throughout the contractions that had grew a bit more intense during your active labor.

he hated everything inside the delivery room. it smelt like blood — choso was used to blood. but he didn't like it when it came from you, his heart drumming against his chest as he felt your grip tightened on his hand. frankly, he could care less if he broke a few bones as long as you and the baby were both okay.

choso hated seeing you in pain, even while delivering his baby. he didn't blame the baby, of course; he just wishes he could do something and take away the pain from you, latching his lips onto your sweat painted forehead. salty. he could taste your sweat against his lips, and despite that, he still refused to move.

"wish i could jus' take away the pain away from you, y/n," he whispers — hearing your pained grunt, your eyes glazed with fresh tears. and he kissed them away, whispering sweet nothings into your ears.

telling you it was just a bit more until you could see your baby, how proud he is of you, how much he loves you, how much he wished he could take away your pain, everything he felt in his heart at that moment all poured out into hushed whispers.

when the first cry of your baby echoed inside the rowdy delivery room, choso cried. he looked down at you, cradling your face in his hands, singing out, "good job, good job. 'm so proud of you, i love you so much."

the baby's a beautiful baby boy.

choso didn't want to hold the baby first as much as he wanted to — he felt like you deserved to touch the baby first after risking your life to birth him. and so he told the nurse to let you at least see the baby first, he refused to carry his son until you, his wife, touched him first; whether using your hands or any part of your body.

he stared in awe when the baby's loud cry eventually stopped when the nurse brought him to you, letting you coo at your own newborn son. his tears freely dropping, rubbing circles onto the back of your hand.

when the nurse asked him to have skin-to-skin contact, choso was nervous. what if he dropped his son? what if his son doesn't like him? what if his son doesn't like the way his skin feels? so many out of the box questions that didn't need to be answered were roaming in his mind.

as he slowly cradled his son, he blinked back the second round of tears that had threatened to fall. the light blue beanie stuck to his son's head seeped with a few drops of tears, leaning down to press his lips onto the baby's skin a few times. introducing himself as the baby's father and how happy he is to be one,

daichi l/n. that's the baby's name — it meant great first son. the both of you felt that it was a suitable name for your first baby.

choso slept on the small couch inside the hospital room during your healing week, in the middle of both you and him was daichi's small basinet where he slept soundly. he made sure to knock himself awake every now and then to check after both you and daichi.

when the hospital permitted you to go home, you completely relied on choso on heavy things — which you didn't even have to ask, he was already doing it for you. daichi gets a bit fussy at night, and choso always tells you to go back to sleep and that he'd handle the baby.

"you know, you're really noisy, right? mama's really worried about you," he gently poked the baby's cheek with his thumb as he cradled the small bundle of life affectionately, singing out a lullaby he remembered you singing to him years ago.

choso never knew he had a knack on changing diapers until you were occupied, and he had to change daichi's diaper. turns out he was really good at it, and from that day on — he's also told you that he got it. your body was still sore from delivery, and so everything around the house was mostly done by choso under your watch.

although choso's been the one taking care of daichi, he could definitely see how much the baby's turning out to be a big mama's boy even at a few months old. he noticed how daichi would only let you burp him, or sometimes daichi would get fussy when he felt choso raising him up during early mornings until you had to do it.

he didn't care. he wasn't jealous, daichi's still his son and he was glad that daichi loved you a little more than him. he'd like it if his baby prioritizes you first before him.

being a father is a great wonder to him. daichi's first word being 'mama', and his first steps was done while he was sauntering clumsily towards you. choso is such a proud father.

growing up, daichi turned out to be a big mama's boy. but still he loved choso too. now daichi lets choso carries him during mornings, and he relies on choso when something scares him while clutching onto your hand, taking small steps to hide behind choso. using his own father as a shield for him and you.

"don't worry, baby. 's just a lion in the screen, dada will protect us," you scooped the boy into your arms, pointing at the screen where a lion and its cub are walking.

"mmm. dada will protect you both," choso chimes in, ruffling daichi's thin hair.

daichi grew up loving boxing. you didn't know how he knows about it, but at the very next second, he was pestering choso to teach him boxing. and choso dreaded this because what was his son going to do at four years of age in pre-school with boxing? was he going to use it on his teachers? or his friends?

"no . . . maybe when you're older," choso's always said that, patting daichi's head as he does.

daichi whined every single time, but managed to forget when he saw some people drawing on TV. choso once again being a victim of his own son's pleading for some drawing lessons. as a father, choso of course accompanied daichi during his draw sessions in the living room right after the kid comes back from pre-school.

sometimes choso would draw too, having a little competition with his own son. which daichi mostly won — but at the same time, choso never complained about his loss. he was always proud of daichi.

"look, look mama! this is you, this is daichi, and this is dada!" daichi announces, pointing at every aspect of his drawing, explaining to you.

and to the fridge the drawing goes.

when daichi graduated pre-school, choso again, cried. taking pictures using the camera he had asked you to teach him how beforehand, and the pictures weren't the nicest. most of them being a blur of daichi walking down the stage with his small cap, waving his little hand to the camera.

choso was so proud of his son, of you, of himself. looking back— he's realized how far he had come despite not having to expect all of this. a loving wife. a son. a family.

choso was just glad he had his own little family now with you and his son. although . . . he wouldn't mind having another addition to the small community.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #fluff #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #choso #choso x reader #choso x female reader #choso x y/n #choso fluff #choso kamo #choso kamo fluff

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starlit-typewriter · 7 months ago

Text

Genshin SAGAU, Creator of Teyvat, but not Humanity Part 2

I didn't expect such a warm reception, but I'm so glad you guys all liked it!

Your kind words inspired me so much so behold the next part!

Warning for spoilers up to 4.6

Masterlist | Prev Part | Next Part

~~~

It all started with a dream.

Well, a lot of things start with dreams, but this one was an actual, asleep in bed, REM cycle dream.

Well, at least you thought it was. But that's neither here nor now.

It was, to your unending embarrassment about Genshin Impact.

Now there’s absolutely nothing wrong with likings something so much that you end up dreaming about it, it’s just slightly humiliating when you as a person is not someone who dreams a lot and your first actual proper dream that you can actually remember past the first twenty minutes after waking up is about a fictional 2D character vowing to love and care for you.

Ever so slightly humiliating.

You'd've preferred it if it was an actual person because at least that way you knew you had a crush on a living human being rather than having a parasocial relationship with a giant block of code and text.

Actually, can you have parasocial relationships with fictional humans?

Not the point,

This started with a series of extremely weird and slightly embarrassing dreams about Iudex Neuvillette.

Actually this started when you C6’d him.

Honestly, you did not expect to get anywhere near this lucky, especially since your past luck has been average to low in terms of wishing for characters.

But with him,

Well,

It wasn't quite streamer luck, but you did not have to spend any monetary funds to achieve your goal.

You did have to skip quite a few Fontanian characters, and grind out all the region’s exploration, but you’d say it was well worth it.

The night after you’d gotten that final constellation, you had the aforementioned weird dream.

You weren’t in the dream per say, as you didn’t seem to occupy any physical space,

you well.

The best way to describe it would be a movie scene.

You watched as the man, dragon, stood on a balcony.

The moon’s rays reflecting off of this silver chalice, you could only assume filled with another one of his fancy waters.

But it was his gaze that caught your attention.

It’s cheesy to say, but you’ve always been drawn to the man’s gaze. It was always so sharp, so intentional.

He knew what he was looking at and he did so with reason.

But now, at this moment.

It was unfocused, hazy.

His gaze was not focused on the moon, nor the city lights.

He did not stare at the landscape of Fontaine, nor the glittering waters beneath.

But, he saw you.

You don’t know how you knew, but you did.

You didn’t hear what he was saying, nor could you make out the words his mouth was forming but you knew that it was a call, a call for you.

It was odd but flattering and confusing, but a deeper part of you crooned as his sentiments. A part of you you didn’t realize you had was rising to the surface.

“My child,” it crooned, “my dear Hydro Dragon,”

Neuvillette seemed to startle at that.

You knew you didn’t make any sound, you didn’t even have a body, but somehow he heard it, heard you.

His face flushed, hand grasping at his chest as his murmurs seemed to grow faster.

You didn’t know what was going on anymore, simply that this rising feeling in your chest was growing and growing.

It was scary.

It was alien.

Feelings that were not your own, moments of clarity and nostalgia flash through you, connecting to nothing but faceless figures and a deep sense of regret and loss.

What is happening,

A part of you that you didn’t know about, that you’ve never felt.

Is this what it feels like to be possessed, you recall thinking faintly before sinking into darkness.

~~~

The Iudex of Fontaine stood above all in the courtroom.

With the destruction of the Oratrice Mechanique D’analyse Cardinale, his word and judgment were the last line holding Fountaine to its standard of justice and order.

On paper, he seemed to have it all as the youths may say.

But his identity as the Hydro Dragon may deter from that.

It is already isolating enough to be the Iudex of the nation of Justice and Hydro, but to be the only dragon, were it not something that he had spent his entire lifespan balancing, he feared he could go mad from that.

There is a sense of irony in that.

Focalors's plot put both he and Furina in the highest positions in all of Fountaine, and in turn made them both the most isolated as well.

Although, at least she was released from her duties after the job was done.

While he was and forever will be grateful for her contribution in saving Fountaine, there is a quiet part of him that he’s tried very hard to bury, that is green with envy.

He understood Focalor’s reasoning, after all, once their act was done Furina would be able to live a normal human life and he would be able to regain his powers and authority as the Hydro Dragon.

That was as much as she could do for him, from her limited position.

He was grateful.

But,

His brethren, his kin.

They did not have the same freedoms granted to them.

While he did not have many memories of what happened to the previous sovereigns, nor of his life before the arrival of the Primordial one, he knew that they were most likely sealed away, deprived of their rightful power and authority.

It is his duty as the Hydro Dragon to render judgment upon the Usurpers that massacred his brethren and sealed away his kin. To uphold the standard of justice he has worked so hard to maintain during his rule as Iudex of Fontaine.

He once saw a quote in a popular novel that was making the rounds. “To become God is the loneliest achievement of them all,” whilst he does not recall the contents of the book, the sentiment of the line rings true, especially now that he has regained his authority.

While he and Furina did not spend much time together whilst they were performing their duties, she was a constant presence that he knew was always there. Much like a tree you would pass by everyday on your morning commute, or the singing of birds at dawn. An ever present figure whose loss is sudden and to an effect irreplaceable.

He finds himself missing her, sometimes.

Not that he dares let Sedene and the others know, else they’ll enact some kind of plot to get him to go out and meet more people.

But there was a comfort in knowing that she, just like him, was alone in their positions and would serve Fontaine to the very end.

Not that he dares disturb her well earned retirement, nor does he wish to retire himself.

It was simply,

A shame.

The melusines were the closest equivalent to his dragon kin that he has had over the centuries, and will most likely continue to be for many to come. For as much as their presence filled him with happiness, they do not, and he hopes never will, understand what it truly means to be a dragon.

To be the last survivor of the original people of Teyvat, crushed under the heel of the Usurper king and their shades.

To have to live amongst their people, knowing that while humans are innocent, their creation was built upon the bloodshed and suffering of his people.

There is a unique sense of cruelty in her actions, he reflected, fitting for the successor of one of the usurpers.

Whilst he has no doubt she meant it as an honor, taking him in, raising him to the highest scene of this land, giving him the highest seat of power and eventually returning to him his authority after watching her death.

There were moments, especially when he first took on the mantle and was trying to prove himself worthy of the title, that we would stare out at the people of Fountaine and wonder why he was doing this.

Humans were the reason for the destruction of his people. The Usurper King, sought out this world and destroyed it and it’s civilization so that a new one could be created in place of it. So that humans could be created in place of it.

Human are the reason why his people, why the dragons were destroyed, they were the reason behind all the suffering and pain his kin have gone through and yet.

Yet they were still innocent.

They did not participate in the war.

They did not ask to be created.

They did not deserve to be punished for the sins of their creator.

However that does not make it any easier to stomach.

There is a peculiar sense of humiliation, to be worshiped alongside those who have destroyed your brethren. To serve and protect the beloved children of those who caused him and his people great harm.

It is a cruel and angry part of him that he does not dwell on much.

He cannot, lest it overrule all his rational sensibilities.

Humans are not inherently cruel beings. They are curious passionate creatures who love and care for each other deeply, who are compassionate and curious at their very core.

Whilst during his reign as Iudex, he has seen a great deal of human cruelty and evil, he has also witnessed selfless acts of kindness and compassion.

It is the duality of human nature that strikes him so. He cannot blame them for acts they are innocent of, but neither can he proclaim them to be free of all responsibility.

Truly the most vexing case he has ever dealt with.

Especially since,

Neuvillete frowned as he rubbed at his chest, feeling where the small spark of divine blessing lay within him.

As the reborn Hydro dragon he does not have access to all the memories of his previous incarnations. As such his knowledge of the previous Dragon Sovereigns and the Creator of Teyvat remains incomplete.

But what he does know, what he does remember, is warmth.

The same warmth that now resides in his chest and on his very self.

He does not remember having many interactions with the creator of Teyvat, knowing that the greatest of interactions lay between the Fromitable Dragon Father himself, and the creator of this great realm.

He had assumed that they had abandoned Teyvat, abandoned the dragons. He’d have preferred that to be in case rather than the harrowing alternative of their defeat and possible imprisonment at the hands of the Usurper king.

But deep in his heart he knew that not to be the case.

“A creator cannot abandon their world”, King Nibelung had proclaimed, their Dragon Father was the one who knew the most about their creator after all, he had no reason to dispute such a fact.

Worlds are much akin to terrariums, whilst on the surface it may seem completely self dependent and a skilled enough botanist may even be able to create one that can last years without any need for direct intervention, but even terrariums need light.

They require the sun to nourish its plants and create the water cycle, for all it may seem self sufficient it requires the energy of the world outside it’s glass container.

That is very much the situation of Teyvat.

For as much as Teyvat seems to have taken care of itself, the world is breaking. Ley lines disorders have become more and more common, abyssal energy roams around, attaching itself to unsuspecting creatures. Bodies of dead gods spread harmful miasma around, polluting the earth.

If the creator wanted to destroy Teyvat, it would be as simple as cutting off the power of the Leylines, putting out the sun, or any myriad of actions that would destroy this very world.

They did not, instead they still provided this terrarium with bits of light. Enough for it to survive, but not enough to thrive.

They still cared enough for Teyvat to sustain it, but not enough to intervene when it so clearly was struggling.

The creator he knew was not like that, they took no pleasure in toying around with others.

The only explanation for this was that they lacked the power to give Teyvat the help it so truly required.

That realization was horrifying.

Nauvillete could only sit and wallow in his own helplessness as he watched the situation in Teyvat decline over the centuries.

Until,

Well,

Until the Traveler,

The witness from beyond the stars.

They have been given a great many titles in their journey through Teyvat, and have undoubtedly more than earned all of them.

What he did not realize, is that they also had another title, unbeknownst to all.

A title given by a presence beyond all that they’ve encountered.

A title that they most likely did not even know of themselves.

The Creator's ∎∎∎∎

They carried the essence of the creator within them, it was clear they were beloved, it was clear that they were back.

The creator had come back.

And they were kind.

A part of Neuvillette feared that they would be much like King Nibelung, furious and desperate to do anything to drive out those that did not belong on Teyvat.

Perhaps they were at some point, but it seems that that point is not now.

The Traveler that acted with their blessing was kind,

They cared for those around them, human and non-human alike.

But they were not naive, willing to dispense justice upon those who deserved it.

If this was the person the creator chose to represent their will, perhaps their return will be much more peaceful than their disappearance.

Neuvillette had contented himself with that thought back then, throwing himself into his works as he had to deal with the threat that was the prophecy.

Little did he know that with time, the creator would bless him in much the same way.

The same blessing that sits in his chest at this very moment.

It has been months since he had been blessed as well as the completion of the prophecy. A selfish part of him wished that he would receive more since then.

Through his investigation he has seen many others, being blessed just as he had, gaining strength and power beyond their previous limits.

But they were not dragons.

They were not the creator’s original creation, their children.

Is it unfair for him to hope that he’d be treated differently.

Perhaps, the age of dragons had long passed already, and humans have dominated so much of this world that it is hard to deny that they are the driving force behind Teyvat.

But still,

He hoped,

He prayed,

Until,

The skies glowed.

Not the stars, mind you,

The sky

It was akin to the opposite of a solar eclipse, the night turning into day.

A surge of energy filled his body.

Not like when he regained his authority, that one was a wave of pure power cascading upon his person, placing responsibilities and burden on his shoulders alike.

This one was kind, gentle, hopeful, excited.

Is this what it feels like to take drugs, Neuvillette thought faintly.

Synth was incredibly popular on the market for its ability to create unprecedented euphoria in its users. If this is what those people felt then he understood why they were willing to go to such methods to achieve this feeling.

“My child,” the power crooned, wrapping itself around him, embracing him with all the tenderness of a loving parent,

His mouth formed the words he could not bring himself to say,

The power purred with reassurance, erasing pains and aches that he didn’t even know he had, before fading from his body.

His arms reached out in desperation, hoping to capture that feeling again to no avail.

Their presence was gone,

But their blessing remained

It certainly remained and it was stronger than ever, this power surge he feels is akin to receiving his full authority once more.

Whilst many worries and doubts he had about the future still remained, one thing was made clear.

He was beloved, he was wanted, and the creator would keep him safe.

~~~~

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~~~

Let me know what you think! I love reading your comments and feel free to send me asks about it as well!

#genshin impact sagau #genshin sagau #sagau #genshin impact #genshin cult au #My writing

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m4rried2the-moon · 6 months ago

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(PICK A PIC) — what will your friends/family think of your next partner ? ✿

hello again ! :) hope these messages find you well ! this is a reading to take a look about how your friends and family will feel about / view your next partner. pay close attention to your intuition and take only what resonates !

𐦍 pile one

friends feels abt them ──── knight of swords

friends see they as ──── six of swords/magician

family feels abt them ──── the star

family see them as ──── temperance

how you feel abt them ──── death/five of cups

for your friends, they may feel that this person is sharp with their words. they could be seen as a know it all to them or someone who is more confrontational than they're used to. they could also feel the need to tell you how they feel about this next partner as well. they see them as someone who is recovering from their own trauma as well, that they've manifested you somehow. can't help but feel like this may be an ex for some of you, like they are aware they effed up and want to come back with the magician energy.

your family feels this individual is someone who should give you a new start, they could urge you to follow this new beginning with an open heart/mind. this could definitely be an ex for some of you, as they see this person as someone who has balanced themselves and takes moderation. so this could be an ex that has returned with a better sense of the situation/you/themselves.

you see this next partner as an ending of regret, guilt, shame and unfulfillment. for an ex partner returning situation, would say that this is a fresh start and turning point away from past. this could also be if you're single and experienced regret from a past relationship that's unrelated.

pile two 𐦍

friends feels abt them ──── judgement

friends see them as ──── ace of pentacles

family feels abt them ──── page of wands

family see them as ──── death

how you feel abt them ──── five of swords/three of swords/the empress

for your friends, they feel your next partner is someone they must decide on how they feel about them. this could mean that they were once unsure of them and have finally made an assessment about them. or find this person to be someone you should wake up to, be aware of their role / importance in your life. they think they are a fountain of good fortune and see them as someone who you could benefit greatly from.

your family feels that this person is someone you should take a leap of faith with and put your best foot forward to embrace this beginning. they may see them as an ending of a period in your life. maybe this is a cleaning death for you, as you could have had some tumultuous relationships in the past or the death of a period of waiting.

you feel that this person could be a defeat for you or you could meet them after a period of loss. this person can make you feel like you are growing into the person you want to be, creating the life you want to live. they could make you feel luxurious and taken care of, or you've reached the ending of a long journey.

𐦍 pile three

friends feels abt them ──── king of wands

friends see they as ──── the high priestess

family feels abt them ──── ten of cups

family see them as ──── three of wands

how you feel abt them ──── six of swords

for your friends, they may see your next partner as someone who is receptive to their internal climate or someone is deeply intuitive. they feel that they are a powerful figure in your life, someone who will better assist you in taking action in your own life. they could also be very passionate about you being with this person, like they want to encourage you to be with them.

family feels that your next partner is someone who could provide you with a lot of happiness and fulfillment. they want to see you build with this person. they could also feel like this is the person you've been waiting for (you may have been manifesting them for a while or talking to your family about wanting a partner).

you feel like this person is a transition into a calmer future, where you are understood and cared for better than before. you may have had a poor past with other partners but with this person, it may be just the break you need.

thanks for reading ! hope this helped & pls don't forget to like/reblog <3

#pick a card #pick a picture #tarot reading #free tarot readings #pick a pile #tarot #next partner reading #tarotblr

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madschiavelique · 3 months ago

Note

Hiii! Could I request some angst/fluff jealousy headcanons with Rolan, Raphael, Haarlep, Karlach and whoever else you think might work? For f! (Or gn) tiefling Tav

hi love!! i'm so sorry i took so freaking long but the burnout is insane and i'm trying to get back into both art and writing but i hope this will be good <33

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ characters : rolan, haarlep, raphael, karlach

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ content warning : mention of threesome (not actual threesome), mostly fluff, these are super soft, fem!reader, no use of y/n

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ words : 2102 ( between 444 and 600 per characters)

( not proofread, english is not my first language ☆)

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ rolan :

Rolan wants to pretend that he's not affected by anything, to keep his composure no matter how much his brothers and sisters tease him. However, he is far from indifferent when he sees someone trying to win you over using his own magical territory.

An elf magician was trying his luck by talking to you, surely thinking that an ‘exotic’ creature like a tiefling had probably never seen a magic trick. He was trying to charm you with coloured sparkles in the air sprouting from his fingers, letting little fireworks dance before your eyes.

His tricks were nothing extraordinary, but the braggadocio with which the elf tried to win you over as if you were an easy mark left a bitter taste in Rolan's mouth.

This pathetic amateur was displaying classic spells, ones you'd obviously seen before. But he had the nerve to get a little closer to you with each trick.

It was when he pulled a rose out from behind your ear that Rolan couldn't stand still.

A shower of scarlet petals fell from the sky. You looked up at the ceiling of the tower hall, but no one was throwing them, they were all coming down like snow from nowhere.

With a flick of the wrist, a few falling petals joined together to form two wreaths that impaled themselves on your horns.

Rolan calmly walked over to you, a smile and a triumphant attitude to his gesture as the elf seemed to blush with shame.

“If you're trying to charm someone who's worth more than anything your miserable centuries of existence have brought you, you'd better crown her like the queen she is.”

The elf didn't even say a word, glaring at him before leaving with a hasty step, Rolan watching him until he disappeared behind the tower doors. His gaze fell once more on yours, who also looked as triumphant as ever.

“Like the queen she is, hm?” you repeated.

Rolan's cheeks turned from poppy to cherry, the shelves and tiles in the tower suddenly looking very interesting.

“He had no right to take you for a fool,” he muttered.

You smiled, taking one of the crowns on your horns and placing it around one of his. You cupped his face and kissed him lovingly, pulling away from his lips to look into his eyes.

“All the other wizards may try, only you can enchant me.”

You kissed him on the forehead, moving to the reception desk to greet a customer as you said:

“Oh and,” you pointed to your flower crown, smiling, “I like these rings,’.

Rolan covered his face with his hands as he turned redder than ever.

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ raphael :

Raphael knows that he has nothing to worry about when it comes to being jealous, because you're faithful to him and he only has eyes for you.

However, he's well aware that the fact that you're his partner can lead to a few mischievous people trying to get at you for various reasons.

The first, of course, is to use you as leverage for Raphael. They think you're his weakness, and while that's not entirely untrue, he doesn't want to involve you in his affairs.

Others simply want to push him to his limits, pester him until he loses his temper.

And others try to get close to you to try to influence you and get Raphael to do things for them. They know that in his darkest moments you're the light that holds him in place, and they try to play on that.

But he knows that no matter how hard they try to make him flinch through you, it's futile.

However, he can't help feeling annoyed when, once again, when Mizora is visiting him on business, she keeps ogling you.

Every visit was like that, with her making undisguised advances towards you, observing every outfit you wore and remarking on those you'd worn before, telling you that she'd buy you some better clothes to suit the beauty you were.

Raphael wanted you to be well dressed; he presented you with a variety of outfits and it was up to you to choose them. It didn't matter to him, you looked stunning in every outfit after all. But it was insulting that Mizora tried to tell him how his taste was awful through her advances to you.

He watched Mizora's insistence from his desk, her behind you, grabbing you by the shoulders to whisper something. Her tail wrapped around your waist, and that was too much.

"Mizora, I think your business here is finished for the moment, I'll study the file you've brought. I've got things to do for now, and I suppose you've got a busy schedule yourself. I'm not showing you the way out, you must surely know it by now."

Mizora gave a dry huff, looking Raphael up and down with annoyance.

"Perhaps your little love could show me the way back ?" she teasingly suggested, looking at you like you were her next meal.

"Don't you have other tortured souls in need of help to care to ?" he sighed, unamused by her comment.

She hummed, frowning at him before disappearing in thin air.

Raphael was about to say something, his lips parted, but you cut him off.

"By the Nine Hells, I thought she'd never end," you sighed loudly in annoyance, slamming the book you were clutching brutally and putting it back on the shelf.

To say that Raphael was surprised was an understatement; he looked at you, mouth agape and eyes wide as you approached him.

"To think she can defeat the master of charm at his own art, in his own house," you said, one of your hands resting on his chest as your middle and index fingers mimicked two legs going up to his shoulder, "devils truly think they can win it all, can't they?’’

He smiled, one of his hands coming to rest on the small of your back to press you closer to him. His free hand came to grip your chin, his thumb caressing the skin of your lower lip.

"I did win it all, didn't I, my little mouse ?"

You smiled, kissing just the corner of his lips without ever touching them.

"I could say the same, my devil."

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ haarlep :

To think an incubus would be jealous would be ironic, especially for Haarlep. They have taken so many lovers, are not attached to anyone, and their very nature generally isn’t used to making attachments that pull that hard on the strings of their desire-red heart.

Except you. You’re obviously the only one that matters to them, the only one that actually considered them as something more than an object of lust but as a real being.

This connection is something they want to protect, to keep as theirs, as the only thing they ever considered they could have for themselves.

So obviously they are not much of a fan of the fact the Archivist is trying to hit on you.

Being stuck in the House of Hope, they spend their time like they can, and most of the time they spend it with you. Not just because they love you but because you’re the best company they had in an eternity.

And this idiot thinks he has the right to come near you like that.

They see him, trying to have your hands touch when you’re reaching for a tome in the archives. They see how he tries to get closer to you to show you an inscription in one of the many books in the stacked shelves of the room.

However their patience runs thin when you climb on the ladder to get to the higher tomes, and he keeps it steady while his eyes are shamelessly on your ass.

“Little one ?” they call, “why don’t you come over here and read to me ?”

Without questioning them, you go down the ladder under the confused eyes of the Archivist. You walk up to Haarlep, sitting next to him as you open the book, but he stops you before you even start.

“Come on, love, you know you’ve got a much better sit than that.”

They pat their lap, and with a little smile you sit on them. They lace their arms around your waist instantly, pressing their cheek against your neck as they hug you and you start your read.

They keep their eyes planted in his as they press a kiss on your neck that makes you giggle, placing pecks on your skin and making you laugh.

“Are you even listening to me ?” you ask, turning to them with a smile.

“Of course I am,” they assure you, one of their hands coming to caress your cheek before softly kissing your lips. “Please, continue.”

As you set more comfortably against them and continue reading, Haarlep’s eyes go back to the Archivists who’s biting the inside of his cheek.

You’re too immersed in the tome to notice how Haarlep is glaring at the Archivist, their tail circling around your ankle.

It’s silent, Haarlep wouldn’t dare to interrupt you again while you’re reading, but their eyes speak for it all : Mine.

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ karlach :

Karlach isn’t jealous that easily, she trusts you more than anyone in this world after all. she knows you care for her, more than anyone ever did, and most importantly you’re the person she trusts the most.

she has more complicated matters to worry about than you being interested in someone else, such as her heart problems. so naturally, she is not jealous that easily.

One evening, however, you were staying in an inn for the night. You had gone to the counter to collect your orders, as the old couple running the inn had become less adaptable and lively and were no longer serving the food.

There were quite a few people there that evening, and the little children helped them as best they could. It was while you were waiting at the counter that another tiefling struck up a conversation with you.

Karlach was watching you from afar as she sat at your table, seeing you smile, then laugh as the stranger chatted with you.

Suddenly her heart felt cold. It was obvious that the man was trying to flirt with you, whispering something in your ear, and you were doing almost nothing to interrupt him or push him away.

The orders finally arrived, and you came back to the table smiling.

"You won't believe the conversation I just had," you began excitedly.

Karlach thought you were going to dwell on the fact that he was funny, funnier than her, better than her in your eyes.

“Oh yeah ?” she asked nevertheless before taking a sip of her freshly arrived ale, never wanting to break your happiness.

“Yeah! He tried flirting with me, and when he asked if he could buy me a drink, I told him I was taken already.”

Karlach’s shoulders untensed instantly, whatever fear or doubt she had about herself vanished in the air.

“As if he had a chance with you,” she laughed along.

“You don’t know the best part yet,” you leaned towards her to lower your tone, “he asked me if the one I was with was the super hot tiefling lady at my table.”

Karlach blushed as she heard that, hearing from the mouth of other people that she was hot - other than literally hot - always felt so unusual.

“What happened next ?” she asked, leaning towards you as well to hear you better.

“I said yes, and he came to whisper to my ears,” you leaned towards her until your lips were grazing her ear, “would you two be interested in a threesome ?”

Her mouth fell open, the sensation of your lips on her ear like so and the lust-filled suggestion whispered to her was almost enough to make her forget about her previous worries.

You pulled back, grabbing your fork and knife to start your food. “I gently pushed him off, that doesn’t interest me, especially when I have the best partner I could ever wish for. He’s gonna have a hard time being better than best.”

Karlach’s heart was ablaze again, fueled up for the entire night, hells, the entire week.

“I can still make sure you get your ride tonight, sweetheart.” She suggested, tilting her head to the side.

“Finally an offer I can take,” you smiled, bringing your cup of wine to your lips as your eyes set on hers.

“How long till you’re done eating ?”

“Five minutes.”

“Poor owners, they might have to buy a new bed after us.” she laughed.

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moonlitdesertdreams · 6 months ago

Text

Skip the small talk

Request: None A/N: Again, I just want to thank everyone for supporting my stories and liking/commenting/reblogging/etc. It means the world to have such great reception to these one-shots. So please, enjoy this lil' story about the reader being a badass :) Tags: Fallout, Cooper Howard, Cooper Howard x F!Reader, Cooper Howard x You, Ghoul x Reader WARNINGS: Canon-Typical language and violence, drug use, decapitation Summary: You really weren't looking for trouble. All you wanted was something to eat, but of course things go awry. This is the Wasteland, after all.

Word Count: 2.6k+

(Gif Credit to @acecroft)

Thunder booms across the Wasteland, combining with the sound of heavy rain on metal rooftops.

It continues in tandem with its partner Lighting, who illuminates the hazy green poison that hangs low in the air tonight. The storm has been raging for hours, and doesn’t seem to be on the verge of letting up anytime soon.

After hours of tossing and listening to the howl of the storm, you decide to give up on sleep for the moment. The inn room you’d acquired is small but cozy, lit only by a couple candles that burn bright orange on the side table. You untangle yourself from Cooper where he lies half-naked beside you, scarred skin on display while in the security of your arms. As per usual, he crankily grumbles curses at you for causing a disturbance, but there’s no malice behind the words. His eyes blink open and lock on to you, immediately more alert at the prospect of you venturing away.

“What’re y’doin’?” His question is thick with sleep, forced through the haze by this codependency you’ve developed on each other.

You’re sitting on the edge of the bed, and reach a hand back to brush his arm gently. “Thunder’s keeping me up. I’m gonna go see if the saloon downstairs has anything in the way of food.”

Cooper opens his mouth to respond, but a cough cuts him off. You pluck his inhaler from the nightstand and press it into his waiting hand. The cough wasn’t unusual, but you’d been traveling for days on end in search of a bounty and knew Cooper was putting on a facade of toughness. Everyone needed rest, and The Ghoul just didn’t know when to admit it.

“Go back to sleep.” You murmur, “I’ll only be a minute.”

He relents, but points a finger in your direction. “Fine. But they got anythin’ good, you bring me some back too, huh?”

You snatch the hand out of the air and press a kiss to his palm. “Yeah, yeah. Go to sleep.”

And since the Wasteland’s most fearsome bounty hunter would rather live through ten more atomic bombs than not have the last word, he scoffs.

“Bossy fuckin’ woman.”

You giggle at Cooper’s tough love as you tug thick tights and a long gray jacket onto your body. Out of pure habit, you look around for a weapon. Yours are stashed on the other side of the bed, but Cooper’s shotgun is propped against the wall by the door. You opt to grab it, slinging the gun onto your shoulder and making sure the strap is secure before cracking open the door.

The old clock hanging in the hall reads one thirty in the morning, but the sounds from the saloon downstairs continue as normal. Perhaps a bit more toned down than the daytime, but voices still mingle and dance together up the stairs. You trail after them, patting your pockets to ensure there’s enough caps to pay for a hot meal. Cooper’s half-canister of Jet and the wrinkled bounty poster sure ain’t going to pay for anything.

Eyes flicker towards you as you step onto the main floor, but they return back to their own tables soon enough. Everyone’s clad in raincoats or hats, outfitted for the weather. The town was a central point for a few settlements which popped up around it, and a major trade destination. The frequency of armed caravan guards passing through proved to be a rather decent deterrent for the unpleasant types, and most people had been nice to the point of frightening.

At the bar, you pull out a rusty stool and settle onto it. All the other patrons but one are at tables closer to the door. The same man who’d rented the room to Cooper and yourself is down the bar chatting.

“No surprise there. They’ve got some questionable folks runnin’ cargo these days.” The bartender is saying. He drops his hands on the bar. “But they take what they can get.”

The other man at the bar is older, just like the bartender. Dressed in dirty clothes, hood up with heavy gloves next to him, you figure he might be a lead farmer. You give a brief nod his way before focusing back on the bartender as he slides over.

“What can I do for you, ma’am?” For someone out in the Wasteland, his face is kind. Weathered and probably suffering from radiation poisoning like the rest of you, but kind nonetheless.

“Got anything hot to eat back there?” You ask, but think better of it. “Or anything to eat?”

“You’re in luck. One of the trade caravans left us with an old brahmin yesterday. Fresh brahmin steak if it tickles your fancy?”

You toss the caps onto the bar. “Sign me up.”

He busies himself at the cooking station for a few minutes, and eventually delivers a steaming steak in front of you. He checks on the other bar-goer and floats back over to you after a few minutes.

“So, I have to ask.” He starts, “You came in here with that ghoul, yeah?”

You pause, mouth full and one hand instinctively freeing itself for a weapon if necessary. He must have caught onto your bristling, as he holds both hands up in a placating gesture.

“I’m sorry. It’s nothin’ bad, I was just curious. We don’t get a lot of ghouls around here, let alone people traveling with them.”

Hell, there was no need for him to tell you that. Cooper and yourself brought stares everywhere you went, discounting the cities you frequented that knew you both by reputation. You’d been called every name in the book in small communities like this, from chem-head, to ghoul-fucker and anything people could come up with.

“Yeah, we travel together. Easier to stay alive and make money when there’s two of us.” You saw off another piece of steak.

“Bounty hunters, then?”

You shrug. “Sometimes. We do whatever needs doing most of the time. If the price is right.”

If Cooper was next to you, he’d be spewing threats of dismemberment and cutting out tongues for all the questions, but you didn’t mind. It was nice meeting someone who wasn’t immediately training crosshairs on your body.

“Fair enough. I’m Clint, if you need anything.” The bartender wipes his hands with a rag and moves about his way, readjusting liquor bottles and carrying beers out to tables that are hollering for them.

You finish your steak and gulp down the water Clint had set in front of you at some point. It washes away the gamey taste of mutated beef. You wait for him to return, as you were sure that fresh brahmin steak qualified as ‘anything good’ in Cooper’s eyes.

“This seat taken?”

You barely glance over your shoulder at the question, but give a half-hearted shrug. There was a whole bar and whoever this idiot is wants to sit next to you?

“Nuh-uh.”

The stool scrapes against the uneven wood floor, and you look over at the man that’s sat himself beside you. He’s younger than you expected, but vaguely familiar as if you’ve passed by him before. Brown hair slicked back close to his skull and shaved on the sides, and a distinct pale discoloration on his chin. There’s a valiant attempt at beard growth but it’s patchy at best.

You stare for just a moment before returning to the drops of water left in your dirty cup.

“Now, I can see you’re not from around here.” His tone is boyish, almost conceited.

Narrowly resisting an eyeroll, you set your cup back down. “Aren’t you just a right scholar?”

“I know a few things.” He waves his hand at Clint as he returns, and a beer is set in front of him moments later. “I know that you rode into town tonight, looking for a bounty.”

Lightning illuminates all of the cracks in the building. Thunder rolls.

It takes a moment, but hits you as a smile is breaking out across the man’s face. You hadn’t passed by him before or traded. Your hand ghosts over the folded-up bounty poster in the pocket of your coat.

“Name’s Spade, by the way.”

Fuck. You’d never forget the name of a bounty. Especially the one set to inherit an entire Gunner outfit that had been threatening caravans for miles in every direction.

“Spade, huh? Named after a shovel?” You prod. “No wonder you ain’t good at making friends.”

Spade calmly sips on his beer. “Neither are you, I hear. Though that might be due to your choice in company.”

Turning your head all the way towards him, you entertain the banter. Trying to avoid the subject of having a partner. You didn’t doubt if the shooting started that Cooper would come running down the stairs, but surprise is always an advantage.

“Yeah, I’m starting to question it myself.”

“I heard you were funny.” Spade chuckles, and withdraws a bulky device from underneath his coat. It crackles and pops like a geiger counter. “But I know you didn’t come here alone.”

You listen to the device pop, but don’t recognize it.

“Say, how much Rad-Away do you go through? Traveling, eating, sleeping and whatever else with The Ghoul must really fuck with your health. His radiation signature is all over you.” Spade tucks the device away.

“Don’t worry, I wear lead-lined panties.” You pat your thighs and stand. “And I don’t have time for this.”

Just as you make it to your feet, you notice the rest of the patrons do the same. They all shrug off their raincoats and reveal standard Gunner clothing, and you pause. Betraying nothing, you simply stare. Counting eleven opponents including Spade. Too busy thinking about how you grabbed Cooper’s shotgun and no extra ammo because you’re apparently a fool. The one combat knife in your boot is a viable choice, but tough to handle so many. You note Clint’s swift exit out the back door of the establishment.

“All this firepower for me?”

Spade follows suit, and stands. He towers over you.

“Don’t play dumb. I know they want me dead, and I’m not keen on letting that happen.”

You nod. “Understandable.”

And it’s then one of his men gets twitchy, and you’re diving behind the bar at the cocking of a gun.

Spade hollers something at the men that sound suspiciously like “kill her”, but the thunder drowns him out. You press your back up against the bar for cover, and whip the shotgun into your grip. You feel at the knife in your boot, and brush past the Jet in your pocket.

“Fuck it.”

You draw out the inhalant and put it between your lips. Bracing for the adrenaline rush, you squeeze the Chems into your mouth. Not much of a frequent user, you resist the urge to cough and waste the effects.

In just a few seconds, the world around you feels as if it’s moving in slow motion. You leap up from behind the bar, aiming and popping off the two rounds you have into the groupies that Spade brought along. One slug crashes through two of them while the other blows another’s head to pieces.

Three down, eight to go.

You sling the gun back over your shoulder and draw the knife. In your peripheral, you notice Spade reaching for his waistband. On pure instinct, you whip the knife in his direction. It finds his mark in his right eye, and he goes to the ground wailing. Just as the Jet begins to wear thin, you hop over the bar towards the crowd.

“Fuck her up!”

You bend down near Spade’s writing frame, and rip the knife out of his eye socket with a wet squelch. Leaving him for last, you twirl the knife around and beckon at his cronies.

“Well?”

You lunge towards the closest, thrusting the knife at his throat. He catches your wrist and twists it away, but you’re quick to jam your elbow upwards into his chin. It stuns him just enough that you can stab the knife into his guts and rip sideways. Entrails spill, and you reach through them to grab the pipe pistol at his hip.

The next few go down via bullet, and you’re eventually left with only Spade alive. He’s clawed his way to his feet as you finished off his gang, and now has an automatic pistol pointed at your head. It wavers dangerously, as he’s half-blind and still spurting blood from the wounded eye socket.

You drop the pistol that’s been occupying your right hand and hold up the knife.

“Wanna get reacquainted?”

Spade bares his teeth at you. “And here we brought all the guns for The Ghoul.”

A shrug. “I’m sort of offended that I was underestimated.”

“I’ll make a note of it.”

Spade pulls the trigger as soon as you duck. His intentions were given away by the fractional squint of his good eye, struggling to aim properly. You charge towards him beneath the rounds, colliding with his knees. The bullets fly upwards, blasting holes in a narrow column up the wall. It sends splinters flying near the staircase.

“Motherfucker!”

About fucking time Cooper decided to show up.

You straddle Spade’s body and knock the pistol away. One boot keeps his wrist pinned down, and you bring the knife to his neck.

“Next time,” You growl, tracing the blade along his Adam’s Apple, “Skip the small talk.”

Blood sprays as you apply pressure, puncturing through his carotid. You drag the knife to the side, leaning away to avoid the spray as best as possible. Until he stops twitching, you keep him pinned to the ground.

“Well goddamn baby, next time invite me to the party.” The Ghoul, as Spade had referred to him, swaggers over to you. His honey-soaked eyes survey the carnage. “I thought you was gettin’ something to eat, not takin’ out our bounty so soon.”

You wipe your bloody hands on Spade’s coat and huff indignantly. “And I thought your old ass would move faster when you heard gunshots.”

Cooper holds out a gloved hand to help you up. “Thunder blocked out the sound.”

“Excuses, excuses.” You grumble, allowing him to pull you up.

The world spins, thanks to the adrenaline fading and Jet withdrawals. You stagger into Cooper, and he grips your arm.

“You ain’t shot, are ya? Left the stimpaks upstairs.”

You shake your head and let him steer you onto a barstool. “Nah. Jet.”

Cooper whoops. “My girl! Well shouldn’t we just be celebratin’ this momentous occasion.”

“Fuck you. I’m not doing anything but going back to bed.” You press your forehead into his chest. “Fuckin’ Chems.”

The Ghoul chuckles and uses two fingers to hold and lift your chin. He kisses your lips, already dry from licking at them. You hold the lapels of his coat to keep upright and only pull away when another pang of dizziness wracks you.

He steps away for a moment, and gets to work removing Spade’s head from his body to return for the money.

“Damn.” You rub your temples. “How the hell do you use that shit all the time?”

“Years of practice.” Cooper hums, and finds a burlap sack behind the bar to package the head. “Sure worked good for you, huh?”

You hop from the stool, using the bar as a crutch to stay upright. “Uh huh, right up until it didn’t. Now I wanna go to bed. Desperately.”

“Fine, fine.” Cooper relents, bloody sack in hand. He follows you to the stairs, free hand ghosting over your hip.

The Ghoul hovers behind as if you’re going to start cartwheeling back down, and herds you back into the rented room. You strip and crawl back in bed, hiding away from the cool air beneath the blanket. Cooper takes his time, but eventually blesses you with his body heat. You cozy up, letting it burn away the symptoms of Jet withdrawals.

“Did you ever get somethin’ to eat?”

thanks for reading, much love ❤

Read More: Fallout Masterlist

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bcyhoods · 10 months ago

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lovefool — “you’re welcome to stay, if you want” w eddie!!

librarian!reader is always calling my name so i needed to do something before i combusted | 1.1k fem!reader

Eddie’s got his feet propped up on the study table and his chair teetering on its hind legs. The dull sound of his rings tapping the hardcover in his hands fills the immediate space. Despite the fact that he’s actually read this particular horror novel at least thrice before, today it only serves as bookworm-ish guise.

The boy aimlessly flicks through the pages, eyes reflexively leaping over entire paragraphs to peak over at the reception desk. With each glance, he feels his heart start racing, his stomach starts flipping. And it has nothing to do with Stephen King, everything to do with you.

You’re sitting behind the polished wood with a pair of deep auburn-colored reading glasses perched on the bridge of your nose. Every so often, they slide down and prompt you to scrunch the muscles in your face and wiggle them back up. Whenever you ultimately give up and push them back into place with your finger, Eddie smiles to himself.

The pair of you have spoken quite a handful of times, but it only took Eddie seconds within that first interaction to be smitten. You’d worn a pretty color on your lips, an even prettier smile behind it. Your eyes lit up upon seeing the tower of Tolkien novels he’d placed in front of you to check out, then you’d complimented his taste, then his hair. Then as if to seal the deal, you reached underneath the desk to retrieve a flimsy bookmark with a map of Middle Earth and placed it on top of the stack.

Now, he’s proud to be a frequent library-goer. Admittedly he feels a little silly about it, at first. But the flash of recognition that crosses your face before you wave at him makes him forget.

You float through the building, burning hot under his watchful eye, shutting off yellow desk lamps and bidding farewell to patrons with a sweet smile. The closer you get to him, the more the familiar aroma of cigarettes and his cologne seem to engulf you. It’s your turn now to have your heart beat erratically in your chest.

“Hi, Eddie.” Your saccharine voice cuts through the silence and has him immediately closing his book. He gazes up at you, big brown eyes boring right into yours. Like he knows you’re about to swat his feet, he grins and kicks his legs down onto the floor.

“Hey,” he sighs out.

“Carrie’s that good, huh? ”

Eddie’s head twists in confusion. It’s like your presence sent him face first into a stupor, and now he’s racking his brain trying to figure out what you were asking. Only when you smirk and point at him does he realize you’re talking about the book. The book that’s in his hand, that he was meant to be reading this whole time.

“Oh! Yeah, Carrie,” he confirms with a gummy smile as he waves the novel up, “What can I say? The lady calls to me. You finished it yet?”

You wince at the question. A few weeks ago you’d each recommended each other a book, per Eddie’s suggestion. He’d read your recommendation within the week, returning it with a broad smile that made you feel giddy. It’s taken you a little longer. He sees it all over your face and gasps.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t read it, yet? You’re really hurting my feelings here, sweetheart.”

The nickname makes your heart catch in your throat and stumble on your words for a second. “It’s—I just…I started it! I promise. I just haven’t had time to read the whole thing,” you explain through a shy smile.

Eddie chuckles at your suddenly bashful demeanor before an idea pops into his mind. Even thinking about it makes him blush. He doesn’t give himself much time to dwell on the idea of your rejection before he’s blurting it out.

“I can read it to you.”

You watch him, surveying his expression to find any hint that he’s joking. But he’s got a doe-eyed look on his face. He’s dragging one of his rings across the curve of his lips with uncertainty.

“You’d…? You’re kidding,” you decide matter-of-factly.

He vigorously shakes his head, hair flying in every direction as he throws his hand over his chest. A bright smile shines across his face. “Cross my heart. I’ve been told I got a shot in the audiobook industry. Might even hear me on one of those little cassettes in the future.”

The boy is lying through his teeth. It’s rare that someone indulged in a positive conversation with him, let alone complimented his voice. Though, it makes you huff out a laugh, maybe a little too loud for a library setting and he swears his heart is about to break out of his rib cage.

You nod at him rather emphatically and agree, “Must be your charisma.” Your hand drops to pick at the chipped wood of the table and your gaze drops with it to hide from him.

“Hey, your words.” He tosses his hands up in the air, smugness tugging at the corners of his mouth. He clears his throat before asking, “What do you say? Think it’d be good practice for me to have a live audience.”

He looks so genuine, a soft expression taking over rough features. His leg bounces under the table with anticipation. His fingers move to where yours are, and he hesitantly reaches his pinky to your own. It’s just a tap, but it sends a tingle up your entire arm and has you reciprocating the touch.

He’s making it so hard for you to say no. You glance up at the clock on the nearby wall and frown. “Well, right now I’m kinda supposed to tell you that the library closes in a few minutes.”

Eddie spares a glance behind you and realizes that he’s the last person on this floor, maybe the entire building.

“Oh. Yeah, well…some other time.” His shoulders sink just slightly before he’s standing upright and smiling at you. “I’ll get out of your hair, m’lady.” He bends at the waist to bow at you, waving his arms theatrically.

You’re smiling at him again, something warm and entirely too sweet. As he turns to the exit, you feel something tug at your chest. Like he’s taking a piece of you with him. It has you calling out before you’re able to stop yourself.

“Eddie?”

He twists back and hums.

“You’re welcome to stay, if you want. I mean I’d love to take you up on the offer, if you don’t mind following me around while I reshelve some returns?” A nervous laugh falls from your mouth as you hitch your thumb towards the non-fiction shelves. Eddie spots your other hand still picking at the chipped wood.

He beams at you with flushed cheeks and a puffed chest.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

#the long forgotten celebration……………#im workikg throigh them! im motivated mow! not to fret!#ily roma thank you for sending this in <4333362525 #ᝰ cece’s scribbles #✸ 100 celebration!#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson hc #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #stranger things blurb #stranger things fluff #stranger things fic #joseph quinn

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copperbadge · 3 months ago

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Do the gods of teeth take dog requests? If so, please intercede on behalf of my dog who will only let us brush one tooth per day

I have good news and I have...other news, Anon! The good news is that I took your plea to the gods of teeth, so fingers crossed there. Also good news, my crown is repaired at no charge, so while I'm sore and tired, I'm also not broke.

The other news, which is good or bad depending on your point of view and relationship to the concept of evil paintings, is that by popular demand I did this time stop and take a proper straight-on photo of the painting so you all can see it in its full glory, pardon the office plant in the corner.

[ID: a large painting hanging on a wall in a reception area, as evidenced by a small office plant intruding in the lower left of the frame. The painting has a background of red waves under an overcast sky. In the foreground are three humanlike figures in grey shirts, with unusually long necks, huge leering smiles, and hollows where their eyes should be. The one on the left has his hands raised to his chest and the one in the middle is tilting his head curiously. It is eerie, but the teeth ARE very white and straight.]

For those of you who have missed previous posts, this is the painting hanging in my dentist's reception area, which they bought in Japan and which they were going to retire except when they moved offices they didn't have signage for a while and this was the only way clients knew they were in the right place.

#spooky imagery #teeth

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astrologanize · 2 months ago

Text

october 2024 sun sign horoscope

aries sun: cheers to you guys because it looks like you are standing up and ready to take on whatever comes your way. it seems many of you have a pretty solid idea by now of what you feel is worth putting your energy into, or you will be feeling this way by the end of the month. there are standards and expectations abound throughout this time, which can be a good thing because you are wanting to make thorough plans and make the necessary strides and make shit happen - but it becomes a not so great thing when it becomes a 'my way or the highway' type of deal. try to avoid dogmatic behavior and being demanding, be open to other possibilities, possibilities that may be out of your comfort zone. although your aries nature may have you tempted to make decisions and throw yourself into whatever has your focus this month, this isn't an ideal time for you to come to any absolute conclusions - let yourself have some wiggle room & levity for now.

taurus sun: hm, you know those moods where you feel like you should be doing something, like you're in an idle position in life? well, you're going to be resonating with that this month because i'm seeing you feeling indecisive, sober, and as if you've hit a dead-end. for some of you there may be something in your life that really has reached a dead-end and you are needing to recognize that there is nothing else you can do for the situation, it is just time to let it go and choose happiness. for others, it is just a feeling that you've hit a dead-end when in actuality this is a checkpoint for you to stop and count your blessings! try to avoid apathy or being a buzzkill, i'm not seeing you or others be outright rude or say out of pocket things per se...but there is a very closed off energy surrounding your month.

gemini sun: there is something in your life that has been draining the hell out of you, a situation or a person or old wounds or an accumulation of all, and by the end of this month you're going to be like 'ya know what...this doesn't even matter'. this may be a slower month for you guys because so much of it revolves around you getting away and removing yourself from whatever this something is - it may be that the issue drones on and interferes with your life to the point where you finally get your fill of it. there can be such a peace in knowing that it is out of your hands. choose to free yourself.

cancer sun: i see you guys are going to be working on your mindfulness this month. there is something in your life that you are going to be wanting to find resolve with, you're going to be trying to find a solution, it's like okay...let me really compose myself and get a grip here. a time for deep breaths! there may be a bitter seed involved here, maybe it's you or someone else, maybe someone else is bitter with you over something and that's why you're going to be trying to ponder a solution, or you may just be in your own standoffish mood over something. regardless, try to set aside any pride and be willing towards the situation, it's a time for you to adapt with what comes your way.

leo sun: oof. not the leo's having their confidence at an all time low this month! i'm afraid this is going to be one of those months where all you can do is just get through it. i'm not seeing many obstacles throughout your month though, all i'm seeing is you feeling totally not in your power, it's like this month is happening to you. on the positive side, it could be a time where you having no ego does make you more receptive to any issues you may need to work on and that doesn't feel great at first but it starts the growth process. for some of you it's like you've made your choice about something and it's not what you want or you've done something that you're not proud of and have consequences to face, very ~i've made my bed and now i'm going to lie in it~. try to confront any waves of sadness, don't fight your feelings, choose to be mature, and remember to get better not bitter.

virgo sun: lol every time i read for y'alls 2024 it sticks out so much in comparison to everyone else's. anyway. this is a lighthearted month!! though you will be having a slew of feelings accompanying it, there are options available to you and chances and surprises that would be worth looking into. you may catch the lovebug this month, you may be flirting with others, others may be flirting with you, you're going to want to look good, pick out an outfit spur of the moment, and be infatuated with life or yourself or someone - which does come with all sorts of emotions. but in order to have these good times it may very well be that you need to wash your hands of something, make a tough choice, relieve yourself of something that has been hampering you; or it could be that you need to remember not to settle and to not make things more complicated than they need to be.

libra sun: there is going to be something that really trips y'all up this month, something you are not expecting, something that you feel out of your element with, something that makes you feel ill-prepared...standing there like omg what the heck do i do?! if you have any plans in mind this month, which you probably do since it's most of y'alls birth month, they may not happen the way you want but it can be a chance to do something different. try to avoid bruised ego behavior like saying or doing something out of pocket just because you're feeling not so great about yourself or what you have (or don't have) happening in your life. try to keep your feelings in check, practice finding acceptance, and lean more on others this month!! it's your birthday season, it's a time to be inspired and embrace connection.

scorpio sun: usually you guys are like 'eh whatever i got this shit' but this month you should set aside what you think you know and have a lil chip on your shoulder, try to level up if you will. there may be a certain connection in your life (platonic or romantic) that is overarching this month with you wanting to get closer to this person or actively getting closer to them - which will involve you curbing any unnecessary sharpness and putting in effort. there is going to be a break in your routine...as there consistently has been throughout this year...and this may be voluntary as you implement or do something new or it could be that your routine is interrupted. i do see you guys extending yourselves this month and putting in extra effort, just gotta make sure it's coming from an earnest place and not you doing a whole bunch of everything & nothing to deflect from what you should do. there is potential for wrongdoing this month, maybe from you or from someone else, due to there being a lack of fairness and accountability/dependability so try to be conscientious to avoid this!

sagittarius sun: i've made a few posts this past year about the grounding energy that has been surrounding us and october for y'all surely is looking like it could be a testament to remaining grounded. throughout the month you will be taking the things that do not pan out in your favor on the chin, that sagittarius ability to shrug things off will be in full effect - but there will be issues with your ego this month, maybe in a positive light you will be choosing to put your ego aside for the sake of peace/connection, or maybe you're going to have difficulties actually handling something maturely due to your ego getting the better of you. what is also coming through is matters of the home/family, maybe you're going back home, maybe you're going to be spending more time than usual at your home, maybe there will be something notable with a family member or someone you live with. try to choose integrity, try to avoid behaving carelessly, if there is anyone that you have strife with then maybe a heartfelt conversation could help remedy it, often the softer road is the more challenging road but it is worth the effort.

capricorn sun: this is an interesting month i would say, it's reminding me of the song "tubthumping" - "i get knocked down but i get up again. you are never gonna keep me down" because although i am seeing defeat in the month i'm not seeing you be dispirited by it and unwilling to try again. throughout october you will be *trying*, you will be putting forth an effort, you will be dedicated (to something), you will be building faith and striving for an embracing of life by the end of the month. other happenings of the month may include you letting your guard down and being serious/vulnerable, you doing away with what you have had in mind, issues with others, you being less social and more busy. for the past few horoscopes the advice has been to take it easy and pace yourself but this month feel free to throw caution to the wind and just decide to do shit.

aquarius sun: back in august there was palpable new energy for you to seize and most of you were taking full advantage of it but that energy is starting to need a funnel. throughout october there will be disappointments, your parade may feel rained on at times, it seems that this will be a time where one thing after another is happening - it's like having 5 different significant incidents happen within a 2-week span. it shall be a time of recognizing that you need to correct course, get the energy in line, focus on your priorities, and show up for yourself in the ways you're needing rather than wanting. for some of you, part of the 'rain' you may be experiencing will be due to you facing the music on something because there is a theme of accountability coming through, and what's fair is fair - what is deserved will be served. try to avoid being scatterbrained this month, try to avoid being overly ambitious, try to get a good grip on what you already have going on in your life.

pisces sun: it is time to call the play on something in your life, something has gotta stop, something needs to be let go of because it's not fulfilling or leading to fulfillment, it's not what you want, and it feels like a chore that isn't worth the effort. for some of you this may be related to a connection but whatever it is, you are going to be choosing (to focus on) yourself by the end of this month. try to set any feelings & attachments aside and be brutally honest with yourself, while also trying to remember that there are other possibilities & opportunities out in the world just waiting for you to welcome them in...ya know the saying...one door closes, another opens.

#2024 #october 2024 #horoscope #long post

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explodo-smash · 11 months ago

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Are you one of the people expecting bkdk to be canon? I just learned that there are people that sincerely believe Hori would have Deku and Bkg have an explicit confession of love. That he's going to be the first popular mangaka to have a endgame gay ship. I am in so many mlm ships of shounen but I've never had the delusion that the author would make them canon despite the evidences otherwise. Like I thought it's fine to ship mlm as long as we stayed in our lane and never harassed the author.

After speaking together, we do believe based on the evidence in the series that BakuDeku being canon is not an even vaguely unreasonable conclusion to reach. We think the story is written in a way you can reach that conclusion easily, so much that even casual viewers who aren’t shippers are questioning the nature/potential conclusion of their relationship.

One of the most consistent and convincing lines of evidence for us has been Katsuki taking on roles/positions traditionally reserved for female heroines/love interests (if you’ve seen anyone call him “narratively androgynous,” this is what they’re referring to). In the context of Jump magazine, we have a number of shonen heroines and love interests to compare Katsuki to. The similarities are so striking that many notable people (including the VAs for the anime) have taken to calling him the heroine of the series.

However, we do think things like homophobia (whether it’s the writer or the audience/consumerbase at large– in this case we’re primarily referring to the audience), the safety of everyone involved, and timing are all unpredictable factors people have to take into consideration when writing/reading a story of this magnitude. Needless to say, if Horikoshi is indeed planning an endgame for bakudeku, he’d also have to take these factors into consideration.

Horikoshi has a record of being pretty in-tune with his fanbase. He definitely keeps some eye on bnha’s reception–for example, he mentioned a while back that both the people who love Katsuki and the people who hate him will have something to look forward to in this finale (we can now see what he meant lol). He’s very likely aware of the people who love bakudeku and the people who loathe it.

Taking into account that he tends to be very intentional with his writing choices, he’s written this story in a way that not only centered bakudeku’s relationship over others (notably Izuku + Ochako’s, the character he’d presumably end up with if things were going predictably?), but also went the extra mile to distinguish their relationship as unique, closer than all their other relationships, the “biggest pillar of the story” (x, x). He didn’t have to do all of this. This extra push is what’s giving bakudeku that undeniable chance at an endgame right now, because it’s come to a point where no one can ignore the implications of scenes like this:

On the flip side, we don’t think people’s hesitation is unreasonable. It’s scary! If bakudeku were to fall flat of all this buildup/our expectations, it wouldn’t be the first time the romantic implications between a pair of boys in a story like this was ignored. Hell it wouldn’t be the first time a popular pair in general, (gay or not) got ignored in favor of what the author just felt like doing, regardless of what any previous developments in the story or interviews or official artwork would have us believe. There’s enough written evidence that canon bakudeku wouldn’t be surprising, but there’s also (at the time of writing this response) still room for things to go another direction, for all of this to be recontextualized and passed as something else.

As per social norms/patterns of behavior, this would be disappointing as hell but not surprising. Especially for people who have been let down before, we completely understand the need/impulse to distance oneself from the idea/hope that bakudeku may become canon.

In all honesty, if it turns out bakudeku isn’t canon or left open-ended (say, an ending where they’re partners of some kind/the closest to one another without that explicit romantic confirmation), we would be frustrated/heartbroken. Not because we feel like Horikoshi shouldn’t do what he wants, he should. But because there’s been a clear effort to bring LGBTQ+ readers into the fold, and tell and portray our experiences in MHA. Horikoshi has done a beautiful, incredible job of writing various LGBTQ+ and marginalized experiences as a metaphor in his stories. Toga is a prime example. This is something that readers around the world have noticed, and it’s something MHA is special for (see this data x, and the further context/commentary on it given here x).

We think it’s intentional. This story and the relationships in it have invoked experiences close and personal to many of us. Things are in a state right now where we wouldn’t just feel baited, we feel like readers would have a right to feel unsatisfied.

That being said, feeling unsatisfied doesn’t equate to feeling empowered to harass or bother others. Especially not Horikoshi himself, and also including other readers who had differing expectations. This is really the case across the board. We should all be able to control our anticipation/expectations without becoming assholes.

It’s not just the shippers, by the way. People who work on the series or work closely with Horikoshi have rooted for bakudeku to go beyond. Izuku and Katsuki have already done what a good chunk of the readerbase thought impossible and became friends. People see their writing, their potential, and they want more. The voice actors (x, x sorry for the crunchy pic it's all i've got atm), academics (x), musicians (x, x) , editors (x) and more have all kind of rallied around Bakugou and Deku’s bond, with a particular sensitivity towards the deeply and uniquely intimate nature of it + how it evokes romance.

We’d like to see MHA exist free of the burdens previous popular shounen series have had placed on them. But that’s a conversation for the ending. As far as the fanbase goes, I think it’s super important people practice humility and caution when speaking to others. We have NO way of knowing what will happen. People who have been traumatized by situations like this in the past have a right to be anxious, people in general are allowed to withhold judgment until we have all the information we need. However, we don’t think having hope or confidence that this narrative might lead us to a canon bakudeku is unwarranted or delusional.

At the end of the day one thing is true, and this was something we had to fight to “prove” much longer than we had to prove Bakudeku had romantic potential - it’s that Kacchan and Izuku’s lives are going to be forever intertwined in this new era of their world that births from the finale.

They’re forever intertwined in a way that’s not replicable for any other character in the series, and that’s amazing all on its own. We’ll just have to wait and see how far they take it! Thanks for reading if you got this far, and Happy Holidays!

#Anonymous #ask #bakudeku #dekubaku #katsudeku

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the-monkey-ruler · 14 days ago

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The more I read about the JTTW Conspiracy Theory, the less I like it, and the more disappointed I am that BMW followed it.

I have found that it has turned into a unique taste at least for a more modern audience that really enjoys the thematic meanings of Journey to the West. Xiyouji at its core is one that says that anyone can change and that people can take a hold of their lives and start changing themselves for the better. I found the book uplifting how between the humor and the allegories we see the pilgrims really come together in each new demon fight and rely on each other. That no matter what you've done there can be hope that you can find people like you and you're not alone on any journey.

That is how I always connected with Xiyouji, as a journey to hope, not to save the world per se, but one that you are not you're worst self and that you can learn and grow as a person. This is journey about learning how to save yourself for your own sake. That anyone (even a monkey) can find themselves, know who they are to the point of enlightenment and become one with the universe essentially becaming a Buddha.

The JTTW Conspiracy Theory does take that message and make it more that "enlightenment is a lie" and "changing is just conforming to be more submission to your masters." It frames Wukong's person growth into something of him just becoming a mindless tool of heaven. That all his hard work and travels were really for nothing and just that he is seen as nothing more as a yao and that he will always be seen as a yao to be used.

Don't get me wrong, Xiyouji does poke fun at itself. While yes they do make Arhats taking bribes and do make Daoist yao master eat babies it is in the tone of satire and to make the scene more humorous with the absurdity of it all. Xiyouji is about to poke fun at religion while still being sincere in the religious messages found within the book. It makes fun of the gods but it also makes fun of humans and yao and anyone who can be criticized. But just because it is able to make light of the gods in both Eastern and Weatern Heaven doesn't make it an anti-religious work but rather I see it as an attempt to make the gods more human to the audiences. Humor has been used for centuries as a way to show the absurdity of life and make characters more relatable, and I really think that Xiyouji is still so popular after nearly 400 with such great movies/shows/games because it is FUNNY and their characters are still able to crack a smile even in the more dire of situations.

I have said that the Chinese Odyssey and Bio of Wukong really make the JTTW Conspiracy Theory popular, and it has, but it could be traced back to the Havoc in Heaven 1961 Movie with how it was framed that Wukong was a freedom fighter. The 1961 Movie has a long and rich history about its creation and its political meaning. But in short, it was seen as a symbolic meaning of class warfare between Wukong (the freedom fighter) and Heaven (the oppressive authoritarian government). This was taking Wukong's original meaning being of an arrogant and selfish warlord who uses his power for his own desires and transforming it into a Wukong who is now the common man who is meant to relate to the average worker fighting for his rights and the rights of others. Hence why in the 1961 Wukong WINS in the end! He BEATS the Jade Emperor! He WON! No Buddha, not mountain, he goes home, he DID IT. Because he is the HERO.

This was an understandable change as this was in the mind of inspiring people to stay hopeful in the face of opposition.

"When the first half of the film was released in 1961, state and public reception was glowing, but by 1965, when the second half was completed, it became impossible not to recognize in it revolutionary undercurrents. At first, Mao was compared favorably to the mischievous Sun Wukong, wreaking havoc in “Heaven,” overturning the Chinese bourgeoisie. But by the same metaphor Mao had also plucked away the country’s “stabilizing pillar” with his disastrous Great Leap Forward. By the start of the Cultural Revolution, Mao’s China could be seen as “Heaven,” Mao himself its stuffy Jade Emperor, and the disenfranchised groups living under his regime, the monkeys."

This is still self-contained as it was only Eastern Heaven that was shown to be overthrown. Guanyin and the Buddha were never shown and thus never perceived in a negative light, thus not suggesting that enlightenment is a lie or anything like that. Also Wukong wasn't fighting for Yaoguai but rather his own monkeys, another difference, as this has no connection with "yao are an opposed group" that is seen within the JTTW Theory. Wukong shows no issues in later movies fighting Yao. And the biggest difference is that Wukong WINS in the end, he goes home and the heavens are defeated. We never see any repercussions for that because there are none, the movie is over and the audience is meant to leave with the feeling of hope and optimism that Wukong has given them.

The reason I always connect the JTTW Conspiracy Theory to Bio of Wukong is that it brought in the pessimism that rechanged the whole story. Wukong DOESN'T win. Wukong ISN'T able to change anything. He dies a martyr who rather loses his life against an impossible battle rather than live a life of servitude and while he is gone he will never be forgotten. He is a TRAGIC hero. It embraces the beauty of rebellion even in the face of resistance and the death of blind idealism.

And that IS a beautiful story. I can see why this story got so popular with young adults in the early 2000s, as they are facing a changing economy and starting to feel how hard work and everything they have been studying for feels like it was all for nothing in the workplace. This was a story that resonated with an entire generation and it can show the struggle of trying to cling to individualism in the face of conformity in order to integrate better into social pressures. I think that there can be a lot to be explored and so much that can be take from this kind of take.

But I think the real issue is while Bio of Wukong is a light novel inspired by a movie that is more of a Time Travel Movie reimagining of Journey to the West, the JTTW Conspiracy Theory tries to apply to the actual book. The JTTW Conspiracy Theory takes it a step further and claims that enlightenment is a lie, and the whole Journey is orchestrated by the Buddha to promote his “corrupt” religion while crushing SWK's spirit and making him into a tool for the Heavens. This kind of stance can come from a general anti-religion stance or a nationalist position to base Buddhism.

I could understand how modern authors compare heaven to current authority, creating a hero of rebellion who fights against oppressors but still never wins in a way to connects to audiences through gaining sympathy. By now it feels overplayed but when it first came out the 'dark version' was very appealing to young adults esp when it comes to feeling limited when facing new experiences. While it isn't accurate to JTTW and what the message is, it is more like JTTW can be used as a medium for that kind of storytelling.

JTTW Conspiracy Theory takes what could have been solid symbolism of using JTTW as a medium for modern issues in a way that is able to relate and connect with its audience, and rather turns it around as a critic of JTTW's original narrative and tries to push it as a stance against religion. This uproots Xiyouji's original messaging and its deep connection to established folklore, Buddhism, and Daoism. While I do believe that directors try to capture the impact that Bio of Wukong had, it falls short as it just isn't a FEESABLE story within Xiyouji's own verse. If you view the entire premise of Buddhism and all religions as false, then whatever answers they give to important questions can be nothing but lies and falsehoods, to maintain their own power and deceive worshippers. It takes away the foundations of Xiyouji to the point that it is no longer even the same story.

In the end, I do believe that this Conspiracy Theory has run its course and that it would be better to be shelved as more of a 'horror' genre of the book rather than to be seen as a proper adaption. It might be my own personal old age but I have been through the early 2000 'angst' era and while it was fun while it lasted I do believe that this was a needed step into a new evolution of where Xiyouji interpretations can go. I would love personally to see more interpretations of Wukong as a ruthless warlord rather than a freedom fighter. To see Wukong as a near irredeemable monster and throughout the journey becoming someone more of an anti-hero who learns more about empathy and kindness through each trial. And I do think we are heading in this direction. The most prime example I believe would be Monkey King Hero is Back which shows a reluctant Wukong slowly realizing what it means to be a hero, not his power, but what you are willing to fight for. A more interpretational battle rather than Wukong fighting demons or even fighting an oppressive regime he starts to fight himself. Another layer of Wukong's identity being explored but his own pride and ego being his enemies rather than an external force.

We see more modern movies trying to move past Wukong being just a hero or a martyr but truly being dedicated to making him the complex individual that he could always be. I hope that we do see more directors taking this stance as Journey to the West is a beautiful story with the unique and rare gift that it allows all characters, gods, demons, and humans to be seen on an equal footing. Gods are allowed to be funny and flawed, demons are clever and can be redeemed, and humans can be both good or bad depending on their actions. While Xiyouji is lighthearted I do think that interpersonal struggle aligns more with its messaging. It's complex with it's allegories but there isn't a sense of hopelessness as the one thing in life that you can control is yourself at least.

I think that Black Myth Wukong has a lot to offer, especially in terms of bringing new fans into the series. While I am a lil saddened that the story is inspired by a theory 20 years ago, I can see why as it was quite popular. I will say though it has been done to death, and while I'm sure it was a 'safe' bet it is something that is unoriginal and that does leave me disappointed (please note nearly all web-movie jttw have come out in the past ten years have a similar premise). I can only hope that with future DLC or in future JTTW adaptions they take that as a sign to grow from the premise gathering rather than repeating the same old thing.

#sun wukong #anon ask #anonymous #anon #jttw #journey to the west #ask #black myth wukong #bmw #black myth #black myth: Wukong #monkey king #xiyouji

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gloomwitchwrites · 5 months ago

Note

Hello lovely!! I’m so happy you are getting more and more followers! You deserve the praise and so much more!!

I was curious how you thought the members of clone force 99 would act when jealous. And do they maybe act differently in the bedroom after if you catch my drift 👀

You do not have to do all! Just whoever comes to mind 🥰 Love ya and thank you as always!

Hey! You’re seriously so sweet!! Thank you so much. My recently follower growth has been crazy. I haven’t had the chance with my health being poor to sit down and take the time to go through it all. But I appreciate everyone who has given my a follow or are interacting with my work. Thank you to every single one of you. I’m so grateful.

Oh, Clone Force 99. I would say they’re my favorite copy and paste men but truly my heart is with Captain Rex. Still adore them though. Now, I’ll keep this short and sweet, but I also totally catch your drift. This is going to fall on the tamer side (sorry OP), but you should be able to read between the lines…if you catch my drift. :)

Written with gn!reader in mind.

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): jealous behavior, fluff, brief suggestive themes

Word Count: 436

A/N: Thank you to everyone who has submitted requests for the 1k follower event. This event is currently closed and I am no longer taking requests. Thank you!

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // 1k follower event masterlist

Hunter:

Hunter would sense it before it even happens.

He’d see the person starting to walk toward you and Hunter isn’t even going to allow them to try.

He is going to divert them elsewhere—either with his words or with some physical persuasion.

And he’s absolutely sticking by your side the rest of the time. Arm around your waist, hand on your thigh, or hand at the base of your neck.

Might be a bit more needy/rough with you than usual when it comes to down the physical.

Wrecker:

Knows immediately in the moment what’s happening.

Angry, but not with you.

Wrecker would absolute be rough with the individual trying to move in. He’s used to using his size and strength as an intimidation tactic. And he will do that here.

Would cause a scene unless you interfere.

Afterward, would become soft with you privately, mainly needing some physical reassurance that everything is good.

Tech:

Would have no idea what’s happening in the moment.

The rest of the Batch would have to point it out to him first.

Tech would be respectful and say that you can “handle yourself.”

When it’s clear that the intruder doesn’t get the hint, Tech will step in, and while he’d be polite, he’d also be very straightforward.

Might (or might not) need backup—depending on how receptive the other person.

Would not require physical reassurance afterward, but might ask for some verbal affirmations.

Crosshair:

Crosshair’s jealousy is subtle. He’s not one to rage or throw fists.

He might see someone making a move from across the room but instead of interfering right away, he’s going to observe from afar.

Crosshair already knows what’s happening, and he’s going to be as dramatic as possible in the confrontation.

Crosshair will wait, and will absolutely use his sniper skills to his advantage (and no he’s not going to kill anyone over this but someone might lose a finger)

Possible scenario: someone is hitting on you at the cantina and Crosshair shoots the person’s drink out of their hand from across the cantina. Like I said, dramatic.

Afterward, he might need to be a little rough in reclaiming what he believes is his.

Echo:

Echo would step in immediately. He’s not risking anything.

Would create a physical barrier, either stepping between you and the person encroaching, or he might even pull you away from the person.

He’d give them a verbal warning, and if that isn’t respected, he might be a bit more forceful even if he isn’t looking for a fight.

Afterward, Echo will certainly need some physical closeness. Lots of cuddling.

taglist:

@glassgulls @childofyuggoth @foxxy-126 @km-ffluv @sweetbutpsychobutsweet

@singleteapot @tiredmetalenthusiast @coffeecaketornado @padawancat97 @garfunklevibes2012

@miaraei @cherryofdeath @tulipsun-flower @enfppuff @ninman82

@pigeonmama @beebeechaos @hantheconqueror

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sundrop-writes · 6 months ago

Text

One Moment Per Episode With Dick Grayson

Season One, Episode Two: "Hawk and Dove"

Summary:

Even though Dick denies that he needs your help, you can't let other innocent people - like Hank, Dawn, and Rachel - get caught in the crossfire of his stubbornness and annoyance toward you.

So when you have a vision of Dick fleeing back to some of the only friends he knows, you don't hesitate to chase him. And yes - you make sure to bring coffee this time.

Dick Grayson x Fem!Powered!Reader. Childhood Friends/Exes to Lovers. Emotional Angst and Bantering/Humor. Set during Season 1, Episode 2.

Word Count: 6,000

DC Titans Masterlist | AO3 Link | Series Masterlist

Detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: the reader uses she/her pronouns - I still want to warn that some people might accuse this character of being an OC/might consider this an OC, but the reader received a great reception in the last chapter, so you guys might like her uniqueness if you read this; as usual with my stories, the majority of pronouns used in the fic are you/yours; and other than clothing style and a scar that informs her backstory, the reader's looks are not described and are left vague (as far as race, body type, hair colour, etc. - those things are not described); the reader character does have powers - the reader character is psychic and can see glimpses of the future in dream-like visions; the reader actually has a vision in this one (and there is more descriptions of her visions in general) (looking back, I wish I would have opened the first chapter on a vision of the apocalypse but oh well); the reader and Dick are 'exes' - their relationship was never official (they never explicitly called each other boyfriend/girlfriend), but they used to have sex often (and they both have feelings for each other that they never openly spoke about), and they are childhood friends, so there is a lot of emotional history there; this fic uses Y/N; this whole chapter (and this whole series, really) involves intense criticism of Dick's character - the Titans version specifically - so if you don't like that and if you don't like the Titans characterization of him, then turn back now; mentions of canon-typical violence; non-graphic descriptions of Dick having an infected wound as a child (speaking to his characterization); mentions of non-canon character deaths - happening in non-canon branching paths in the reader's visions (things that don't come true, but have the opportunity to come true if she doesn't interfere); mentions of gun violence; lots of stereotypical monogamous jealousy going on here - some canon, and some not (not the kind of thing my poly ass typically writes, but it does well with Dick's toxic personality, so I like it) - Hank being jealous of Dick and Dawn's reunion, and Dick trying to evoke jealousy from the reader over his past relationship with Dawn (though I have made it clear in the text that Dick doesn't have feelings for Dawn anymore); Dick accidentally pointing a gun at the reader (because of mistaken identity); this time there is equal pining and horniness between Dick and the reader (mostly because I am a simp for Dick in that navy button down shirt, unf); mentions of Dick's past trauma (the death of his parents) and his PTSD reactions because of it; mentions of Dick and the reader having sex in the past and their sexual desire toward each other and some mild sexual themes, but there is no explicit smut in this chapter (there might be some in future chapters); the reader gets injured in a fight with The Family; mentions of Dawn's canon injuries and subsequent coma; I believe that's it for this part.

A/N: I actually wanna say that this chapter was complete and ready to be edited in my drafts, and because of the comments and feedback I got on the last chapter, I actually went in and made some additions to this chapter. People really seemed to like the banter between Dick and the reader character, and there wasn't much of it in this part, so I made sure to add more of it - because if you guys tell me that you like a certain aspect of a fic, I will play up that aspect in future chapters or in future fics. That is why commenting matters. Writers listen to your detailed feedback and put it into future stories - we aren't just looking for comments to stroke our egos. So if you guys like this chapter and the banter in it, know that you helped shape it from what it originally was!

...

Dick had basically told you to fuck off - he didn’t want to be involved, but he already was.

The events were already set into motion around him, and there was nothing he could do to stop it now. So - rather than turn around and go all the way back home, you had simply gotten a hotel room in Detroit, waiting for him to ask for your help, or waiting for some signal that he would truly need you.

You fell into an easy sleep, and soon - that signal came to you.

…

A rooftop. Two old friends. Tense smiles under a beautifully bright day that didn’t suit them.

“She killed someone?” Dawn nods toward Rachel, who is sitting beside the large dove house that Hank built, looking at the gentle animals in quiet fascination. She feels peaceful in their presence. “She’s just a kid.”

That’s what he wants. He wants everyone to underestimate her.

“Whoever they are, they’ve got people in the department.” Dick replies.

He’s talking about the people who kidnapped her right out from under his nose - the ones who nearly succeeded in making her a ritual sacrifice. Just one of many forces that were coming after her. One of many forces that seek to harm her.

“We needed somewhere safe to regroup.” He adds on. “And think about what I’m gonna do.”

Somewhere safe?

“What about Bruce?” Dawn poses.

Of course Dick wouldn’t go fleeing back to him. Daddy issues. He thinks of Dawn and Hank as his true family. The Titans have always been his true family. Since losing the Circus, it’s the only family that he’s known.

Oh. Somewhere safe. Of course.

Dick visibly shudders at the thought of going back to Bruce. “He’s no good with kids.”

That's an understatement.

“A cop, huh?” Dawn gives him a small grin. “That’s one I never would’ve figured.”

Well, he seeks out order. But he's a stubborn, bull-headed person who demands to be the leader at all times. He’s terrible at following rules that he hasn't made - terrible at falling under someone else's authority. He thinks that being a police officer is bringing forth real justice.

It was never meant to last.

Dick knew this. He doesn’t like admitting his own faults. So, he rushes to change the subject.

“How are you?” He asks Dawn, clearly curious.

It’s almost as though he wants her to say that her life has been notably worse without the Titans. Just like his has been.

It's been too long since he's spoken to her. He loves running without looking back. It’s something that he’s very good at.

“We’re great.” Dawn answers, flashing him a smile. She's insistent on this ‘we' - reminding Dick that she's not alone. She's not a single person anymore. “Hank’s feeling the life a little. Age waits for no man, and all that.”

Of course. This should have been obvious to him, but he’s a little too absorbed in his own problems to consider it.

“How bad?” Dick asks the obvious question.

“Two fractures, three concussions in the last year, and a herniated disc.” Dawn replies honestly.

Dick has been through worse. He acts like it’s nothing, but it’s not. He’s the type of man to attempt to put a band-aid on a bullet wound. While traveling with the Circus, he stepped on a nail once, and tried to hide it from his parents - pulled it out himself and only told them when the wound began to fester and get infected.

Fiercely independent and stubborn, even back then.

“Jesus, Dawn.”

Yet, he acts as though this is surprising. He acts as though this isn’t the norm when you exchange your bodily safety for the safety of others.

“We’re still good out there, Dick.” She presses, sounding as though she is trying to convince herself. They need the team. That’s what’s missing. The downfall of her confidence. “Really good. But one slip-up-”

“You should quit.” Dick declares this firmly, confidently. He always believes his own authority as fact. “You both should.”

Deep down, he knows that both Dawn and Hank will never quit. Like himself, they do not take well to ‘retirement’. They will die doing this job or they will find quieter ways to keep doing good - but they will never rest. Rest feels too selfish.

“That’s the plan.” Dawn replies. It feels like a lie coming out of her mouth, and she smiles around the discomfort of it. “As soon as we take out these gun suppliers he’s obsessed with. One more chance to do some good and then he promised he’s out.”

Suddenly, there was a flash of something else.

Guns. Piles and piles of guns. Dawn being shot in the head from behind. Bright red blood soaking into white hair. A sneak attack while they have their guard down. Hank, overwhelmed by grief, unable to consider his own life as enemies surround him.

He is forcefully pulled off her limp body.

His screams bounce off the concrete walls as he is chained up and tortured.

Things never go according to plan, do they?

Dick gives her a sharp look as he considers the possibilities. Almost as if, due to his paranoia, he too can see the future.

He wants to offer his help, or tell them simply not to go, but Dawn steals the words off his tongue.

“You could help us out.” She remarks brightly.

Yes, he could. He should.

Another flash of similar events.

This ends just as bloody. Similar howls of pain echo through the warehouse. Hank is limping as Dawn supports him, but all three of them are alive. They all make it back to the apartment alive.

Dick is working on his personal definition of justice. It’s not exactly clean. (But it works.)

But still, he hesitates.

“I’m out of the life, Dawn.”

Liar.

Suddenly, Hank appears. He is surprisingly quiet for someone so large.

“The hell are you doin’ here, Dick?” He barks out the name like poison - in a harsh, jutting way that many others have done before him.

Everyone becomes tense. It’s an unwelcome reunion.

“Hank.” Dawn speaks his name curtly - a reminder. Mind your temper.

“I had a situation.” Dick tries to explain himself, being far too vague.

But again, how does one cleanly summarize encountering a young girl with powers like Rachel’s and being so unsure how to handle it? And of course, Dick hates to admit being unsure of himself. He hates to admit needing help. He prefers to phrase things delicately - as though this were a choice, a fun day trip, rather than the desperate fleeing that it truly is.

“Nice little reunion you got goin’ here.” Hank says sarcastically.

“You know it’s not like that.” Dick replies.

He is right, but poor at defending himself against Hank’s flare of jealousy. He is so walled off that he doesn’t dare to admit he doesn’t have eyes for Dawn anymore, even in the slightest. That relationship was nice, but those feelings died out long ago. He simply can’t see her in a romantic light anymore because his heart belongs to someone he believes could never want him in return.

Follies for another time.

“Sure looks like it to me.” Hank grunts in return.

“Hank.” Dawn says his name sharper this time, capturing his attention as he stares at Dick with fire burning in his eyes.

She nods toward Rachel, who is staring at all of them with confusion.

It’s her. She’s the reason why we’re all here. She’s the reason we’re all going to be alive years from now.

“What the fuck?” Hank is confused. Reasonable.

“Can we just go back inside, please?”

Good idea.

…

You woke up in a cold sweat, fumbling around numbly to turn on the lamp of the hotel room that you were staying in. Having your mind widen across the astral plane could be absolutely exhausting.

Of course Dick had gone back to them.

Looks like you were headed to DC.

…

“Dawn, you can’t hit this job. Look at the number of security contractors here-”

“Come on, don’t change the subject.”

Dawn was cut off from speaking any further by a loud thud coming from the front door. Something almost akin to a knock. Hank (who had gone out to pick up some beer) had a key, so - that definitely wasn’t him. Rachel was in the guest room watching Game of Thrones -

Dick and Dawn exchanged a look, both thinking the same thing.

There was someone at the door. Someone unannounced.

And whoever was at the door might be someone looking for Rachel - someone seeking to harm her. In the kind of silent communication that had only been developed over years of working together as a team, Dick gave Dawn a nod and she calmly raised from her chair to go and check on Rachel. And then he grabbed his service pistol, flicking the safety off and cocking it - he swiftly walked to the front door, and while pointing the gun at whoever was outside.

It was a clear warning, and also ready to fire if the person tried barging in. Dick opened the door slowly, and peered into the hallway, his heart beating rapidly in his chest as he waited to see who it was.

You.

It was you.

He let out a sharp breath of relief when the information fully penetrated his brain - the fact that it was you standing there, and not someone intending to do him or Rachel harm. Not an enemy.

You were standing there as innocently as ever, wearing a red dress with a beautiful paisley pattern on it - still sporting those same brown leather boots and that same cozy jacket. Again, you looked so damn beautiful, and it shouldn’t have been comforting, and Dick shouldn’t have been filled with want. You were holding a paper tray full of coffee cups - which you had pressed against your breast for balance, and in the other hand, you had a large brown bag that seemed to be full of pastries from the smell.

“Fuck.” He swore sharply, his arm still holding the gun up stiffly - his body still filled with the conflicting fight or flight response pumping through him, unanswered.

You let out a bright laugh at this, seemingly amused by Dick’s tense aura.

“Your greetings get more pleasant everytime I see you, Dick.” You said, nodding toward the gun that was still extended in your direction.

He let out another tense breath, and forcefully unlocked his forearm then, in order to put the gun down. He put the safety back on and tucked it into the back of his waistband as he opened the door fully to let you inside.

“You really are such a warm and welcoming person.” You added on, sarcasm ripe in your voice.

“You’re an asshole.” Dick replied, still feeling the ache of a fight or flight response tearing through him as he tried to calm down.

He knew that you hadn’t meant to scare him - or maybe you had, seeing as you hadn’t apologized, and seemed to find the whole thing entirely amusing. But at least you weren’t someone that he actually needed to shoot. So that was a plus.

“I am not.” You replied snarkily, stepping past Dick and making your way into the apartment. “I’m nice. You told me that next time I should bring coffee, and I did. That’s the farthest thing from being an asshole.”

“Dick, what’s going on?” Dawn called out, stepping out from the guest room with Rachel hot on her heels.

Realization spread across her features when she saw you placing your goodies on the counter as Dick closed and locked the front door.

“Y/N,” Dawn smiled, walking over to give you a hug after you had set everything down.

You embraced her tightly for a moment before she pulled away with a smile. Dick rolled his eyes at this - still annoyed at your presence. He would never admit it, but he was upset that Dawn was much happier to see you than she had been when he had arrived.

“Another friend?” Rachel asked, hovering at the edge of the kitchen, slightly hesitant of you.

“A good friend.” Dawn confirmed, shining her smile toward Rachel. “Rachel, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is-”

“Rachel. Hi.” You cut off Dawn as she made the introduction, giving a gentle wave toward Rachel while she nodded shyly at you.

“A friend who’s not supposed to be here.” Dick added on gruffly.

“Grumpy grumps don’t get danishes.” You said, holding up the large brown paper bag.

Dick sighed and rolled his eyes, wanting to protest about you distracting from the larger point with pastries - but technically, he had asked you to bring them.

“We’ve got… a medium vanilla latte for Dawn,” You pulled the cup out of the tray, now doling out the coffee orders. It was something that you knew partially from memory, and partially from the omnipotence that came with your powers.

She took it with a quiet ‘thank you’.

“A small black coffee with extra sugar for Rachel.” You offered her the paper cup, and she loosened up on her hesitance toward you, eagerly leaning in to grab it. She smiled at the fact that you knew her preference and didn’t question her for drinking coffee at such a young age.

“Thanks.” She said brightly.

“A large black coffee for grumpy pants.” You said, holding out a cup towards Dick.

When he reached for it, you teasingly swiped it back before you actually gave it to him, and he heaved out another sigh.

“Are you gonna tell me what you’re doing here?” He asked sharply as he popped open the lid on the cup and took a sip.

You decided to ignore him.

“And an Americano for Hank.” You went on speaking about the coffee, rather than answering Dick’s question. “What kind of sociopath drinks watered down espresso anyway?”

“He-” Dawn spoke up, about to tell you that Hank was at the store, not even there to enjoy it while it was still hot. But then, there was the sound of lock and key in the door and it came bursting open.

“Dawn, I got your stupid fru-fru coconut ice cream. I had to go to three different stores for it, and-”

When Hank saw everyone gathered in the kitchen, including the surprising addition of you, he glared as he kicked the door shut behind him.

“Well, isn’t this a real goddamn-”

“A real goddamn summer camp.” You cut him off, literally stealing the words out of his mouth.

“God, I fucking hate it when you do that.” Hank sighed, a visible stiffness running through him - similar to the way Dick looked when you said ominous things. He was creeped out and defensive at the same time.

“Would a pecan cinnamon roll make you feel better?” You posed, pulling a smaller bag out of the bag of pastries and offering it to him.

“You know, you always were my favorite.” He replied, quickly changing his tune as he came to grab the treat from you, a snarky smile spreading across his lips.

Dick reached for the brown bag sitting on the counter to get one of those danishes you had mentioned. You saw this out of the corner of your eye, and you snatched it away from him. You had meant what you said. He tensed up visibly but didn’t argue.

Dawn giggled, pointedly looking between the two of you before she reached into the bag herself - of course, only for you to slide it closer to her.

Dick sighed harshly and tried to move on from the subject. “Now, are you gonna tell me what you’re doing here?”

…

It wasn’t long before Dick sequestered you away, demanding answers. He dragged you into Dawn and Hank’s bathroom, actually. This left Dawn to awkwardly fill the space with Rachel, who was wondering who you were, and was asking more questions as she sensed the tension between you and Dick. Meanwhile, Hank scarfed down his pecan bun without a single care about the circumstances of your visit now that he was fed.

You sat on the edge of the bathtub with your arms crossed, looking at Dick with firm calculation, just like you always did, waiting for him to speak. He shoved his hands in his pockets - something that made his whole stance tense and broad and horribly appealing. It was something that reminded you that he had stayed perfectly fit since you had last seen him - and he had nothing but fine, firm muscles under that shirt.

You forced yourself to focus as he stiffened his jaw and stared right back at you.

“Well?” He scoffed.

“‘Well’ what, Grayson?” You nagged back, knowing fully well what he meant.

He sharply rolled his eyes. That seemed to be a reaction that you invoked from him quite frequently.

“Why the hell did you follow me?” He sighed, his breath too tired to be as fully demanding as he intended.

You wondered when the last time he had slept was. He was someone who wore insomnia strangely well, especially considering that Bruce had driven him to be sleepless since his teen years. It was something that he was accustomed to by now, so he never got the ‘bags under eyes’, ‘half dead’ thing that most other people did when they didn’t sleep. He simply looked like himself.

You hated how much internal destruction and self abuse suited him.

“Who says I followed you?” You replied, your natural instinct toward snark acting up again. “Maybe I just felt like dropping by. Dawn and Hank are my friends, too.”

You almost added on ‘apparently they like me more than they like you, anyway’ - but you didn’t feel the need to kick him so badly when he was already down.

Dick let out a quiet growl, reaching up to firmly pinch the bridge of his nose with his finger and a thumb.

Already, you were wearing his patience thin.

You knew that you couldn’t tell him the truth.

One thing you knew for certain - Dick Grayson was a control freak. It was something that had been carved into him by trauma and fully solidified by years of training with Bruce.

That night, so long ago - having his parents slip out from his grasp when he had been so young, while performing a routine that they were known for courageously doing without a safety net. A routine that they were so certain of and knew so well, having never factored in the act of murderous sabotage that ultimately killed them - it made Dick want to obsessively control every single aspect of his life and everyone else’s around him.

Not only did he want to help those around him avoid danger, but he wanted the people around him to behave exactly how he imagined that they should at all times.

He was constantly on the lookout for frayed ropes - for the unexpected variables that might be the downfall of someone that he loved. He felt that his parents’ death had been his fault, that he hadn’t been diligent enough that night, so he needed to be hypervigilant in every other aspect of his life to keep more people from dying.

It was part of the reason that you bothered him so much. You were always unexpected - always a wild variable that he had to chase down. Whether it was your actions, your words, or your reactions to the things that he did and said - he felt like he could never predictably nail you down, and he absolutely fucking hated it. (It was probably also one of the reasons that he got such a fantastic release from fucking you - but that was a box of emotional issues he was not yet willing to open.)

But - being the control freak that he was - he liked to try and control the outcome of your visions.

Yes, you did see the future in your visions. And yes, the version of that future that you saw could sometimes be changed. It was part of the reason that you tried to interfere to stop bad things. You had seen many things before that had never come true - both good things and terrible things.

But you had warned Dick time and time again that the future is not random. You never saw simple flashes of random possible outcomes and one of those realities might come true. No - you saw people’s intentions. You saw the results of the choices that people make.

If someone intended to commit a murder - you would see death. If they changed their mind - you would see life. If someone interfered to stop that murder - the future could change in a lot of strange ways because of it.

Life is a winding path with a lot of branches to it, and when someone makes a choice, some of those branches die off.

Dick Grayson’s controlling, all mighty, ‘need to interfere’ mindset certainly had a way of changing the future. He constantly felt the need to use the information from your visions to force people into making the ‘right’ choice. But sometimes, on the path we choose to avoid our fate, we run headfirst into it.

You were never going to tell him - but Dick and his controlling nature had gotten people killed before.

You had discovered over time that it was better to simply not tell him things - to hold back information until it was the right time for him to hear it.

“Do you actually enjoy being irritating?” Dick rasped harshly at you. “Or is it just something that you’re good at?”

You shrugged. “Probably both.”

He let out another stiff breath.

“Look, I’m here for Rachel.” You said, trying to correct course. “She’s mourning, she’s confused, her powers are out of control. She needs someone to help guide her. Someone who might be able to show her how to keep her powers under control.”

“O-kay.” Dick said, clearly dubious, not fully convinced. He looked at you with his brows firmly knit, and you felt the need to further convince him.

“Look, I’m not stalking you if you think that’s what it is.” You added on. “I had a vision, I saw you and Dawn on the roof-”

“Okay, okay, I get it now.” Dick smirked sarcastically, crossing his arms firmly over his chest, making his biceps bulge inside of his button down shirt in a way that was far too appealing.

Focus - you reminded yourself. Focus.

“What?” You replied, genuinely confused.

“You don’t like me spending time with Dawn.” He declared, continuing to smirk at you as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

More than anything, this left you utterly fucking confused.

“What?” You chuckled, repeating the word like a gaping parrot - a nervous, awkward edge in your voice.

You liked Dawn. She was one of your best friends.

And you didn’t give a rat’s ass if Dick and Dawn spent time together. Especially because you knew that Dick coming here was him fleeing to a friend while in crisis, not him looking for a hookup. Especially not while Dawn and Hank were together. Dawn was nothing if not intensely loyal.

And nothing would have happened while Hank was in the apartment. You had never seen Dick and Hank fight - but Hank was just a bit bigger, and because of his upbringing, he had absolutely no qualms about fighting dirty, even when he was fighting a friend. So you knew who you would bet on in that fight.

So - what the hell was Dick talking about?

Even with your strange sense of omnipotence, you couldn’t tell at the time - Dick was baiting you. Hard. He wanted you to flip out, to get jealous.

It was the emotionally stunted thing to do, but he wanted to see some sense that you cared.

At least Hank going full cave-man mode upon seeing Dick meant that he thought what he had with Dawn was precious and worth protecting. It meant that he saw Dick as a threat.

When you continued to stare at Dick with nothing but confusion, gaping like a fish, he flailed, realizing what a terrible move this was. And for some stupid reason, instead of dropping the subject altogether, he dug himself deeper into the hole.

“You know, the thing with me and Dawn is all in the past.” He said, mentally squirming, waiting to see how you would react. “There’s really nothing going on between us.”

“Yeah.” You smoothed your lips into a firm line, completely uncaring about this line of conversation. “Good for you.”

Perhaps mistaking the annoyance in these words as the jealousy that he was so urgently seeking, his tone completely changed then. Like a child throwing a tantrum, he had gotten the negative energy that he wanted from the interaction - so he kept on digging in.

“Okay, you know what?” He snapped. “If you’re not gonna tell me why you’re really here, then I’m just gonna have to assume that you’re bullshitting.”

“Oh, I’m bullshitting?” You replied, resisting the urge to break into a grin.

He had seen solid proof of your powers on many occasions. He had seen you do things that couldn’t be proven by science. So why was he only accusing you of ‘bullshitting’ right now?

“Yes.” He replied stoically. “You didn’t see anything - you don’t actually know anything. You don’t know shit. You’re probably just guessing, and making shit up as you go along and hoping people will believe you.”

“Okay.” You shrugged.

You were unphased by this declaration. You knew by now to trust your visions - even if Dick was revoking that trust. You knew that you had solid information, and if you didn’t follow it, the lives of the people that you loved were at risk.

You guessed that this was just Dick throwing a tantrum because you wouldn’t share that information with him.

Dick ground his teeth. Unconsciously, he was still intensely frustrated that he hadn’t gotten more of a reaction out of you. Whether it was the information that he was looking for - or some greater sense of anger or urgency that he felt when you were around. But he needed something. He needed to know that you still felt something because of him.

You were always so damn calm. Far too calm for his liking.

“You’re just guessing.” He pressed on. “It’s not that hard to know I would come here. You just fucking followed me because-”

“So you’re saying that all the military tactics Bruce taught you never paid off, and you’re intensely predictable when fleeing under pressure?” You chuckled, pointing out the flaws in his own logic.

Dick flinched.

He hated how uncomfortable your words made him. Squirming in that discomfort - he went low.

“And you’re admitting that you’re just a bullshit carnival psychic like your mother was?”

It was a tender wound.

The moment that your face fell - shifting from mild amusement at your own joke to intense pain and hurt - Dick’s insides recoiled with regret.

“Y/N-” He sighed.

“Nope.” You cut him off sharply, shoving past him.

He let you, finally allowing you to escape the tense air of the bathroom so you could go out and properly catch up with Dawn while drinking your coffee.

…

No matter how angry you were with him, you couldn’t let him die.

Even as you laughed and chatted with Dawn, and got to know Rachel a bit, you couldn’t get the flashes of horrifying possible futures out of your mind.

…

Where is Dick Grayson? Where is Dick Grayson? Where is he?

A crazed family singing showtunes. A skipping rope being used as a whip - knives plunging through flesh. Torture. Pain. Screams.

You saw Dick fleeing with Rachel in the night, believing that he had made the right decision to protect her. Believing that he was keeping you, and Dawn and Hank safe. You heard a sharp screech of tires as he was cut off on a dark backroad by an old-fashioned station wagon with wooden paneling. A car crash. Dick flew through the front windshield - and as he bled to death, his last moments were spent hearing Rachel’s cries for help as she was dragged from the car.

Bad decision.

Dick spoke about ‘some job’ that Hank and Dawn were planning and instantly, there were flashes through your mind of Dawn shot in the head, laying on the floor in a pool of her own blood - Hank’s screams of anguish as he was chained and tortured.

They need his help.

Why were you there?

To stop those bad decisions. Hopefully.

You couldn’t explain it all to Dick - you couldn’t play it all out for him so simply. He was a control freak. If you told him all the details, then he would insist on making a choice. He would insist on running the play. And he might make one of those stupid choices. You had to avoid making the same mistake that your mother had. Don’t give those stubborn, powerful men too much information and trust them to use it wisely - because they most likely won’t.

“You should go with them.” You told Dick, your voice curt - the first time that you had acknowledged him in hours.

He seemed shocked by you even looking in his direction, let alone speaking to him after the comment he had made.

“Look, Y/N-”

“I’ll stay with Rachel.” You added on.

When Rachel eagerly agreed to this, it seemed to seal the deal for him.

He acted as though it was his plan all along.

Whatever made him feel better about it.

…

You and Rachel ended up on the rooftop. She gravitated toward the doves - she found them calming, as she told you.

“How do you know Dick?” She asked you, clearly unable to keep down that curiosity that was naturally biting at her.

With the cool night air whipping at your cheeks, you found it easy to be vulnerable with her.

“We grew up together.” You told her.

“You were a part of the Circus?” She asked, giving a small amused grin at the thought.

“Yes.” You confirmed, mirroring her smile. Sometimes the nostalgia was painful, but unlike Dick, you didn’t try to forget it. “My mother was a fortune teller - a psychic. She was considered one of the best. People would come from miles around, or even follow the Circus from place to place just to have their palm read by her.”

Rachel laughed at this, clearly amused.

“So what - she had a big crystal ball, and she would read the lines on your hand to tell you how long you’re gonna live?”

You shrugged.

“Something like that.” You confirmed.

There was a beat of silence. Knowing what Rachel was going through, you felt the need to confess something to her.

“My mother - she died when I was about your age.” You told her, knowing that it was likely something she needed to hear.

It can always be comforting to know that you’re not alone.

Rachel looked at you with large, piercing eyes - heavy grief still dancing there. It was still so fresh. Your heart ached for her.

“What happened?” She asked.

With her powers, you were surprised that she didn’t already know.

But you thought it apt to explain it to her.

“My mother didn’t just do card tricks and read palms.” You said. “She was special. Special like us, special.”

A distinct look of dawning came across Rachel’s features.

“She had powers.” She said softly.

You nodded.

“So, wait - are these kinds of powers… genetic?” She asked eagerly, seeming to perk with interest at this.

Suddenly, a million long-dead questions about a father she had never known overtook her like a tidal wave.

Obviously, her mother had been perfectly normal. Had she gotten her powers from her father? If she found him, would he be able to tell her who she truly was?

“I suppose so.” You answered meekly, hating that you didn’t know for certain. “I hate that I can’t say for sure.”

Rachel’s face fell at this.

Then, something occurred to her.

“How did your mom’s powers kill her?” She asked.

“It - it wasn’t really her powers that killed her.” You began to explain. “It was more… the way she used them.”

Rachel looked at you expectantly, and you continued.

“Before she died… she saw what happened to Dick’s parents in a vision. How they died.” You explained. “She tried to stop it, and the people who were intent on killing them weren’t too happy about it. So they killed her too.”

It was a fate that you were constantly trying to avoid - stumbling into death while trying to save those that you loved. It was one of the reasons that you put up with so much attitude from Dick Grayson. You would much rather have him alive and giving you lip than have him dead because of some mistake that you made.

Rachel looked pensive for a moment - watching the birds as they rested in their large cage.

“Is that why you’re helping us now?” She asked quietly. “You’re trying to keep us from getting killed?”

“I’m doing my best.” You remarked, anxious hope ripe in your voice.

…

Clustering voices. A tense argument.

It was broken up by -

“Hello there.”

The faux sweetness of a dangerous stranger.

Fear shook you. The sound gave you a sense of deja vu. You recognized them from a far off vision.

Before you could warn the others, it broke into a brutal fight.

You used all the training you had, but you were distracted by Dick being thrown off the roof. Something hit you in the head, hard - you heard Dawn cry out for help, and you saw a cluster of blonde hair and limbs as she went flying.

Rachel screamed and reached out for you and you desperately reached back - you were dizzy and blinking heavily and didn’t even remember being knocked down.

“Dawn! Dawn!”

You heard Dick shouting urgently and then you realized in horror that she might be dead.

Dawn.

You were sluggish and felt wetness on the side of your face that must have been blood, but you forcibly peeled yourself off the ground, stumbling toward the sound of Dick’s voice - toward the fire escape. You tripped down a few of the stairs, your blurred eyes only focused on the shape of them - him crouching over her body, blonde hair splayed across the pavement, limp legs.

She’s not dead.

She can’t be.

When you made it to her, you fell to your knees beside her. With the last of her energy, she locked eyes with you.

Fear. Anxiety. Terror. Trust.

She knew that you would help her.

Her eyes drifted closed, and Dick panicked.

“Dawn, Dawn!”

“Be quiet.” You barked at him.

You needed to concentrate.

“You’re telling me to shut up?” He griped back, his fear and panic foaming up through his lips as intense anger directed towards you. “Shouldn’t you have seen this coming? What happened to-?”

“I don’t appreciate the attitude.” You ground out, looking up at him to find nothing but pure fear staring back at you. “Now - Shut. Up.”

You placed your hand gently onto Dawn’s forehead - you concentrated hard, focusing your powers on her. You couldn’t do anything about her physical injuries, but you could preserve the parts of her that mattered the most. You could keep her spirit alive. You could lock her memories away in a safe place so that she would be whole when her body healed.

“What kind of voodoo bullshit is she doing?” Hank huffed out, having just made it down the fire escape himself.

“Be quiet and let her work.” Dick told him, waving a dismissive hand in Hank’s direction.

For once in their lives, both of the men sat in silence, actually deferring to you and following your lead.

They trusted you to do something good for her, rather than doing more harm.

...

A/N: If you want to be tagged in future parts of this, you can sign up for my DC Titans taglist - just let me know that you want to be a part of that taglist by commenting below, and keep in mind that I have taglist rules. Also, I only have a general taglist for DC Titans fics, not a specific taglist for this series because this series updates sporadically and not on a schedule.

Please do not ask me when this fic will be updated - this fic does not have a schedule.

While this is technically part of a 'series', each chapter is meant to be enjoyed on its own. The overarching plot of the series is still that of the original Titans show, and I won't be making any major changes to the canon of the show - I just intend to showcase smaller emotional moments between the reader character and the canon characters. This is something I want to work on casually in the background between working on other things. This fic is not my main focus, and I will not be rushing to update it or complete it.

To me, this fic is a nice slow casual walk through the woods to enjoy the scenery, rather than a marathon with a clearly outlined route and a specific finish line as other series have been for me in the past.

Comments and reblogs are encouraged, and I am thankful for them - but please keep those comments focused on the actual content of the series - it's plot, the characters, their dynamics, even predictions for the plot of future chapters are okay, as long as you are not asking when the fic will be updated. Please do not spam me asking me to update this or asking me when I will update this - because I am not in a rush to do so. I have a lot of ideas for this series that I am excited about, but I want to work on it slowly and casually because I don't want to lose my enthusiasm for it and I know that rushing will take that enthusiasm away.

If you enjoyed this - great, thank you, I am so glad that you do. But if you expect this to be updated weekly like a factory pumping out stuff on a clearly outlined schedule - then you are in the wrong place. If you are expecting constant updates of this fic and you will be disappointed if it doesn't get updated regularly - you should just block me now and pretend you didn't read it.

But if you are a patient person - feel free to read and enjoy my other Titans works while I am working on updates for this (and working on other exciting things). I particularly recommend reading Your First Kiss With Dick Grayson to scratch that emotionally constipated Dick Grayson itch if this fic left you feening. Also, feel free to send me a message telling me what you thought of this fic or other fics in general.

Also - if you can't get Dick Grayson off your mind - my requests are open. And I would really love some requests for shorter fics with Dick, like headcanons or reactions. Otherwise, comments are appreciated and I really hope that you have a great day!

#sundrop writes #dc titans #titans fanfiction #dc titans fanfiction #dick grayson #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x y/n #dick grayson x female!reader #dick grayson x you #bat boys x reader #dick grayson imagine

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typicalopposite · 1 month ago

Note

💃🏻 Couple's first dance - for bucktommy, please and thank you

— @nine-one-wanton 💜

i am so late to all these OMG but here you go ! <3

PSSS READ ME FIRST <-(old fic this one is a sequel to!)

And this is also on AO3 too! HERE

<3<3<3<3<3

The wedding was beautiful. It was everything Buck ever wanted and more; Tommy’s equally red rimmed but ecstatic eyes tell Buck it was perfect for him as well.

They are introduced into the reception— Mr. and Mr. Buckley-Kinard— and everyone cheers and claps as they walk to their table. Buck can’t remember a time he has ever smiled this hard before. His cheeks are actually starting to cramp, but he couldn’t stop if he tried. He is a married man! He is married to Tommy! Tommy is his husband. That’s going to take some getting used to, in the best way possible— he can not wait to sign his name the first time. Evan Buckley-Kinard. He is going to write it so obnoxiously fancy and big and bold!

The speeches are as embarrassing and emotional as he’d expected them to be. Eddie then Chimney then Maddie then Bobby; stories are shared and jokes are told. Loving words and well wishes for a bright and long future for them. Buck can’t believe he has held it together this long; he feels so loved. Tommy squeezes the hand that Buck is fairly certain he has been holding since they shared their first kiss as husbands— he brings it to his lips.

The string lights hanging above them seem blindly bright all of a sudden, but that could very well just be from the tears that have quickly filled his eyes. Tommy tugs on his hand— “You owe me a dance,” he says teasingly— and leads him out into the center of the dance floor. Buck feels a lump of emotion begin to form in his throat, and he can only hope he makes it through this dance without completely embarrassing himself with an emotional breakdown.

The song is going to be a surprise for Buck, per Tommy’s request. He stepped aside and let Buck go full clipboard mode on every other aspect of their wedding; he just wanted to get to pick their song. “I promise, you will not be disappointed,” Tommy vowed, pulling Buck into a tender kiss after he finally conceded, giving Tommy full reign of their first dance. Now is the moment of truth, the point of no return, the thing he has anxiously been anticipating, and waiting to finally know for months .

Tommy stops and turns, facing Buck. He looks over Buck’s shoulder at their DJ— Christopher— who flashes them both a bright smile, giving a thumbs up before turning his attention to his laptop, and the wedding playlist. Buck locks eyes with Tommy, taking a deep breath, and blowing it out, as they wait. Then the wait ends, and the song begins— This I Promise You by *NSYNC.

The tears never stood a chance; they quickly topple over, and Tommy is just as quick to brush them away. He uses the hand gently caressing Buck’s cheek to pull him into a kiss, then goes for Buck’s wrists, bringing them up around his neck. The memory of their first dance comes flooding back. his breath hitches and Tommy pulls him closer, leaning their foreheads together “I know there are probably a million other songs I could have chosen…” Tommy says quietly. “But it just felt… right. Kind of like coming full circle…”

“It— it’s perfect,” Buck manages, a shaky but giddy laugh bubbling up and out of him.

“Perfection deserves perfection,” Tommy says, with that flirtatious smirk that still makes Buck’s stomach swoop and his knees weaken; thank god for the tight hold his husband— his husband— has around him. The lines And I will take… you in my arms… and hold you right where you belong plays and Buck knows he could have never picked a more perfect song; he’s so glad Tommy asked to pick their song.

“I love you.” Buck says, and presses his lips to Tommy’s, having to mentally fight himself to keep it chaste and PG.

“God, I love you too,” Tommy replies, bringing his lips up to Buck's forehead as they continue to sway to what might officially be Buck’s favorite song now.

By the end of the chorus both Buck and Tommy are over being stared at and beckon everyone to join them on the dance floor. Maddie and Chimney wind up next to them and Maddie looks to be fairing no better emotionally; her happily weepy big brown eyes shining at Buck and Tommy as they get close enough for her to compliment the song choice; Chimney happily agrees. Buck thinks he still owes them both a world of thanks. Maddie for helping convince him to reach out to Tommy again, for being the one to suggest that Buck could invite him to her wedding. Chimney for saving Tommy’s life back in the day, and for introducing them in the first place (even if it wasn’t with the intention of playing matchmaker). For now, though, he just tells them he loves them and watches them spin off across the floor, before turning his attention back to Tommy.

His eyes are starting to glisten again, and the song is singing through its last few lines. Buck tightens his hold around Tommy’s neck, pulling him in for one more kiss as the music fades out and the room cheers for them. It’s truly a moment he will never forget.

#bucktommy #bucktommy ficlet #evan buckley #tommy kinard #ficlet friday

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eyesthatroll · 1 year ago

Text

NOBODY'S LOVE

pairing: luke hughes x fem!reader

summary: your best friend is getting married, this is supposed to be a happy day, right?

warning(s): sad shit, idk

word count: 1.7k

author's note: would first like to give a disclaimer that i am not meaning any ill will toward any blondes who meet the beauty standard, it's just a plot line within the story. secondly, here are the songs that i listened to while writing this, that you could also listen to, to better the experience:

-Nobody's Love by Maroon 5

-Can I Be Him by James Arthur (acoustic version!)

-Everything You Want by Vertical Horizon

really hope you enjoy. sort of ends on a cliffhanger but i kind of like this a lot for the moment. as per usual, reblogs + feedback / constructive criticism are always appreciated. sending my love —mari

You can't help the sour expression that twists your features as your gaze remains fixed on Luke and Lacey. They're entwined in an intimate dance on the crowded floor, more akin to grinding than traditional dancing, with his hands gripping her waist as she moves against him.

Luke, as always, looks gorgeous, his white dress shirt slightly unbuttoned to reveal the glimmering silver chain nestled against his neck, and droplets of sweat glistening on his chest. His hair had at last emerged from the clutches of that dreadful mullet, now a lush cascade of curls artfully styled, with their length nearly reaching the nape of his neck.

She looks absolutely stunning, adorned in her sleek, form-fitting, white lace reception dress that gracefully accentuates every curve of her figure. Her blonde hair, meticulously blown out, showers down her back like a silken waterfall, its length elegantly concluding just below her waist. Of course, Luke had to marry a girl who was the epitome of the beauty standard.

You savor another mouthful of your White Russian, the sweet liquid sliding down your throat in a single, indulgent gulp. The empty glass collides with the table, emitting a sharp clink that punctuates your mounting inebriation. The responsible choice at this point, would be to balance it out with some water to regain sobriety. However, the longer you fixate on Luke and Lacey, the more you find yourself making repeated trips to the bar for another round.

Drinking, aside from providing a numbing effect to shield you from the emotional turmoil of observing Luke and Lacey, also effectively distracts you from dwelling on the rather disheartening image you must present: a solitary figure at a table in the back corner, solemnly nursing your drinks amidst the vibrant celebration of your best friend's wedding.

In this moment, regret gnaws at you for not scrounging up a plus one. Granted, you wouldn't have genuinely cared for the guy, but at least it would have spared you the pain and humiliation of sulking alone the entire reception. You could have been dancing with him, providing a buffer against the impending flood of tears as you watched Luke dance with Her.

Finishing off your glass, you stand up from your seat, and begin an unsteady journey back up to the bar, your gaze fixated on the ground in hopes of not having to make conversation with anyone. You slump on one of the barstools, and the bartender sends you a look of pity, shaking his head before you can even open your mouth to ask for another refill.

"Boss man says you're cut off, sorry." He apologizes, his hands efficiently polishing an empty glass.

Your mouth drops open, bewilderment etched across your face. You rub at your eyes, hoping to shake off the daze. "Boss man?"

He nods affirmatively. "Mr. Hughes."

Your face goes blank at his words. The revelation that Luke had noticed your excessive drinking at his wedding and even went as far as instructing the bartender to cut you off, feels like another dagger to your already wounded heart. An overwhelming sense of embarrassment envelops you, clinging to you like a suffocating second skin. Tears threaten to spill from your eyes, and with a heavy heart, you make a hasty retreat to the nearest bathroom, craving the solitude it offers for your impending emotional breakdown.

You rush into the bathroom, the door slamming shut behind you with a resounding thud. Your back meets the cool, unforgiving surface of the door, and you sink down to the floor in despair. Sobs wrack your body, escaping your quivering lips in a heartbreaking symphony of agony. Your elegant dress, once a symbol of celebration, now clings to you in disarray, its baby blue fabric gathering at your ankles. Unchecked tears stream down your face, creating dark rivulets against the pastel material, as you draw your knees up to your chest, a fragile attempt to find comfort amid the chaos of your sentiments. Snot drips from your nose, and you make no effort to wipe it away, too lost in your own despair to care about appearances.

The pounding music from outside serves as a veil, muffling your cries and offering you a small refuge, shielding you from the judgmental eyes of the reception as you succumb to this moment of pathetic, emotional turmoil.

You shouldn't have come. The realization hit you like a sledgehammer to the chest the moment Luke's voice choked out his vows to Lacey. It was in that poignant moment that you understood that attending this wedding had been a grave mistake. A searing pang of bitterness and longing seized your chest, an agonizing blend of emotions that consumed you entirely.

Luke poured his heart out to Lacey, and your own heart burned with a fiery jealousy you couldn't extinguish. You wished desperately that it was you standing at the altar, facing Luke with the warmth of family and friends as witnesses. You yearned for the opportunity to exchange vows with him, to profess your love openly and honestly, but it was a privilege that belonged to Lacey. Beautiful, intelligent, and sweet Lacey.

You searched relentlessly for a rational reason to despise her, an explanation that could somehow justify your feelings towards her, but she remained an enigma of kindness and grace. Lacey always went out of her way to strike up conversations with you, treating you with unwavering honor and consideration. She respected the cherished traditions you shared with Luke as best friends, even went as far as asking you to be a bridesmaid in the wedding. She truly was the epitome of an angel in human form, embodying virtues and qualities you felt outperformed your own shortcomings by a mile. Even so, you hated her. You didn't show it, but you felt it in your chest every time she was around, or Luke mentioned her.

You're unsure how much time passed as you sat there, silently weeping. A soft knock on the bathroom door, however, jolts you back to reality, and you unsteadily scramble to your feet, trying to compose yourself in a quick manner. As you gaze at your reflection in the mirror, a bitter, mirthless laugh escapes your lips. The person staring back at you is hardly recognizable.

Your once-radiant makeup is now a smudged mess. Black mascara and eyeliner have streaked down your cheeks, giving you the appearance of a disheveled raccoon. Your eyes are swollen and red from crying, and your foundation is ruined, marred by tear stains that have traveled all the way down to your neck. The reflection staring back at you is a stark contrast to the composed, put-together version of yourself you had intended to be at Luke's wedding.

You hastily tear off a few sheets of paper towels from the dispenser, letting them soak under a stream of warm water for a few moments before setting to work. The damp paper towel becomes a weapon against the lingering evidence of your emotional breakdown as you scrub mercilessly at your skin, each harsh stroke a testament to your turmoil. You ignored the stinging pain that accompanied it, and only when the paper towel had become a shredded, saturated mess, rendering it unusable, did you finally cease your relentless efforts.

Exhaling a series of deep breaths, you wipe at your eyes one last time, a sudden exhaustion mixed with the overwhelming desire to be alone, washing over you.

The night was far from over, and the lively atmosphere of the party still pulsed through hall. Family members of both Luke and Lacey, along with a scattering of friends and NHL players, mingled and celebrated. Your eyes scanned the crowded space, contemplating the possibility of making a discreet exit through the back door, escaping without notice.

As you inch closer to the side exit, your heart skips a beat when a sudden hand lands firmly on your shoulder. Startled, you instinctively clutch your chest, the adrenaline from the surprise coursing through your veins. You turn around, your breath slowing at the relief of seeing it's only Jack. His intense gaze locks onto yours, his hand still resting on your shoulder as he asks, "Leaving without saying goodbye?"

Your voice quivered, barely rising above a harsh whisper, as if the music's deafening volume could somehow amplify your confession. "I can't be here."

Jack's gaze softens with a deep understanding as he witnessed the raw emotion you could no longer conceal. His gentle touch finds its way to the small of your back, effortlessly drawing you into his comforting embrace. Your body quivers with dejection, and you give in to your overwhelming afflictions, sobbing uncontrollably into his collar.

"I shouldn't have come, Jack. It hurts too much," you stutter, your sobs punctuating each word like an unwelcome intruder within a happy home. He stays silent, his hands tenderly massaging your back in a desperate attempt to offer solace. Though it's a mutual understanding that the one person who could truly comfort you in the situation, could never know the reason behind your pain.

"I'm sorry, Y/N," he says, his apology carrying the weight of an unspoken truth. Jack shouldn't be apologizing for his brother, but he can't help it. He was there throughout the entirety of you realizing your newfound feelings for Luke. He truly believed that the two of you were destined to be together, especially after you had confided in the him about what happened between you and Luke that one night.

He was there when the light dimmed in your eyes, the day when Luke introduced everyone to Lacey just a week after meeting her, claiming immediate love at first sight. You are like the little sister he never had, and he found himself standing at a crossroads, torn between the pain his little brother had caused you and his desire for both of you to find happiness. But the realization that it might not be with each other changed the dynamic within everything.

"What's going on here?"

#luke hughes #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes imagines #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes x you #luke hughes fic #luke hughes fanfiction

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