#so all in all this domain is kind of a win. for him.

[the-mist-wanderers]

diversity win! this man-eating rat woman respects your pronouns and gender identity

she's gonna eat u

[lilacgaby]

title: crush chronicles

pairing: megumi x reader

summary: megumi's crush on you was discovered one by one, until he was finally forced helped to confess.

note: i love megumi.. megumi nation rise up

he figured out he had a crush on you after your first encounter with a special grade.

as you fought, using your technique to manage a blow on the curse, he stood in awe and fear of you. as you were hit back, slamming into the wall with a sickening crack he felt the fear rage inside him ten times over.

yuuji promised to handle the curse, and at that moment megumi ran to you, as fast as his legs could take him, as he picked you up in his arms and ran out the imperfect domain with you in hand.

he knew he was a goner when the first thing you did before he went to save nobara, was poke his cheek at his worried expression, and utter, "you're so cute 'gumi." before falling asleep.

if he wasn't worried for nobara's life, he might've died right then and there.

his shikigami were the second to notice. more specifically, his divine dogs.

you'd always had a liking for them, petting them after a practice match between you and megumi. you even started to carry treats for them, feeding them whenever the missions were finished.

they sensed that whenever you were around, megumi's heart would start to race. they interpreted that you..

were a threat.

now having pulled a complete 180 on you, they refused any form of affection from you. whenever you got near megumi when they were out, they'd circle him in a defensive position, barking at you to stay away.

you sulked for an entire week about this, pouting around as you asked megumi why his dogs no longer liked you. grabbing his arm as you jokingly shook him around.

this only made his heart race faster, and his dogs feel even more inclined to protect him.

it's only when one day, while they scouted for curses ahead, that they noticed megumi patting your head as you celebrated your win, that a realization set in.

you were special to him.

after that, it was all back to normal with you and the dogs, in fact they were even more excited to be with you than normal. megumi smiled fondly at the sight of you with his divine dogs. they grew close to you too, he thought.

the next person to understand was nobara.

she had taken you two out shopping in japan, saying it was important for two girls to look good while they kicked ass.

yuuji and megumi tagged along for some reason, much to her dismay.

"this was supposed to be a girls day! you two aren't girls!"

"it's first-year bonding time."

"give me a break!"

it ended up working out, nobara using yuuji to hold all your bags as you shopped around. eventually you got hungry, and megumi offered to take you to a cafe, leaving a tired yuuji with a hyper nobara.

you two sat at a table and shared a slice of your favorite cake. you laughed as you spoke about the things that just popped into your head, megumi smiling as he listened.

anyone around could see the lovesick look in his eyes.

nobara finally figured out that you two had snuck away, and was annoyed whilst trying to look for you.

as she and yuuji neared the cafe, they saw you two through the window. a lightbulb went off in her head as she saw how close he sat, how he nodded his head after every couple of sentences, how he fiddled with his spoon as he listened deeply to you.

she slid to a stop, making yuuji bump into her.

"okay, let's go back!"

"but we came all this way and they're right there!"

"yes, but they're so gonna kiss soon! so let's go!" she said, shoving yuuji out as he whined about being tired.

yuuji had seen megumi at the cafe, but it wasn't til a day where he had stumbled upon you two in his dorm room together on a hot day that he'd finally pieced it together in his mind.

he'd witnessed a lot of interactions between you and him that were more than platonic sure, but he just didn't think megumi was that kind of guy.

he thought he was just being a gentleman back at the cafe, taking you out because you were hungry.

he thought he was just being kind when he'd offer to tie your shoes and lend you his water when out on missions.

he thought he was just being the nice guy he is when he'd offer to go with you anywhere, to stores or restaurants or whatever you needed.

but yuuji saw how red-faced megumi was as he stared at you in shorts and a tank top. you were laid with your eyes shut on his bed, a fan in your hands as you waved yourself.

he'd never seen megumi so..

striken.

megumi finally noticed yuuji at the door and jumped up.

yuuji held his hands up and with an apologetic smile closed the door behind him.

'he was so down bad.' yuuji thought, immediately texting nobara.

gojo was late to everything, even this realization.

yuuji and nobara were the ones to spill to him, talking about how close you two had gotten, and how they swore he saw you holding his hand on the mission you were sent out on.

gojo had always teased him about you, but he didn't think his special student would fall for his other prized student. how.. fated!

though he was the last one to realize, gojo was the first one to take initiative to make them forcibly admit their feelings to one another, making a plan.

as they formulated it, they realized that the key factor counted on megumi being clueless, because he'd never let them do this otherwise.

so for the next week they plotted, ignoring the confused looks of yours and megumi's as they snickered like witches.

saturday morning, you and megumi received seperate letters to go and meet under a cherry blossom tree. only your note.. had a bit more written at the end.

you both arrived there, you a bit earlier than megumi.

"megumi, it's you?"

he tilted his head in confusion. "what's me?"

"you called me out here to confess to me?" she said, while holding up the page.

megumi was plotting revenge in his head, but..

he shouldn't waste this chance right?

"yes, yes i did." he rubbed the back of his neck before speaking.

"i admire you. you're pretty, and strong, and courageous. you make light of hard situations no matter how scared you are, you're.. really amazing."

"megumi.." as they neared closer to eachother, the flowers from the tree starting to fall freely onto them, accompanying the sunlight draping in from the moving shade.

they shared their first kiss under that tree,

the first of many more.

[helenanell]

A Breath Of Life || Part Two

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 Part One 

Pairing(s) :  Reader x Art – Reader x Tashi - Reader x Art x Tashi

CW: MDNI - Smut. Infidelity (kind of?). So much love and lust. ANGST. Manipulative behaviour. 

Notes: Fem!Reader, No use of y/n. This is really just me exploring my own bisexual panic some more.  Spoilers for the film.

Wordcount: 4.2K

━━━━∙⋆⋅⋆∙━━━━

The moment you won the match that sealed your victory at Wimbledon,  the applause was rapturous.

And yet, Tashi’s triumphant shout was louder to you than hundreds of clapping hands. 

The sound of her celebration became yours, and when you let out a yell of your own, your racket falling from your hands, you became one with her. 

After that, her eyes did not leave you. You didn’t look but you knew it to be true, just as you knew the sun was shining onto your shimmering skin; Tashi was an incomprehensible being bearing down on you. 

When you lifted the Venus Rosewater Dish above your head–the silver trophy given to the women’s single’s winner–your smile was beatific. Not because of the rush of adrenalin, or the way your spirit had been buoyed by finally achieving what you knew you could, but feared you wouldn’t, but because you knew that in your victory Tashi had found her own. 

It had taken over a decade, but together you’d realised your dream. 

You knew deep down that you could have made it without her, but it would have been tasteless; a honeyed feast turning to ash in your mouth.

Achieving the title with Tashi by your side had turned everything technicolour. All of your senses were heightened and your sense of self revitalised. 

You lived for tennis and Tashi had helped that life become something glorious. 

When you stepped off the court it felt like a kind of conquest: your domain now stretched beyond the white lines that had so far confined you. You had taken more than a trophy, you had stolen space in people’s consciousness.

 You would not fade into the annals of time because your name had been recorded- it was to be engraved in metal which would be buffed into an unmissable shine. 

Even as you stepped into the plush locker room, you knew the winning moment was already being replayed and analysed. It made you smile to think that as commentators noted your form, they were publicly voicing the effects of Tashi’s coaching on you, to the entire world. 

You felt burned by her, but not as if she had branded you, rather that she had subjected you to such heat, that the very makeup of your body had been altered. 

Now, you're sitting on the wooden bench in the locker room with your head hanging low, sweat still dripping from your face when the door opens. 

You shoot to your feet, your beleaguered body screaming at you to slow down.

When you turn, you find Art standing in front of the now closed door. 

The sight of him takes away your breath. 

He is here too. 

In your greatest moment of euphoria, when you’ve never felt more tangible–more real–you get to be near him. Suddenly, all of the time that had passed between you didn’t matter.

He's with you now. 

Art leans back against the door, hands going into the pockets of his immaculate navy pants. A matching blazer that has been left unbuttoned stretches across his muscled torso, his sunglasses hanging from the neck of his white shirt. 

His cropped blonde hair is messy enough that you know he's been running his hands through it; with anxiety and elation he’d been dragging fingers through the blonde locks as he watched you play.  

Art has become something beyond handsome to you. Retiring has returned his vitality and it has been a stunning metamorphosis to witness. 

But it's change you’ve made yourself witness from a distance. The two of you have not been in a room alone together since he’d hidden in your bathroom as Tashi had convinced you to let her become your coach. 

For the first few months, things had felt far too fragile to acknowledge what had happened between the two of you. You and Art had come to a silent understanding that you needed the time to build back up a foundation with Tashi. 

If you were to remain in each other's lives, you needed solid ground.

But you had just won Wimbledon. You had just given Tashi a victory. Did either of you have the fortitude to go on denying yourselves? 

It has been a solid minute since Art entered the room and neither of you have shifted so much as an inch.

You’re fixed on the spot, watching him as he drinks you in. His gaze is laying possessive claim to your body, noting all the places the white vest and skort are clinging to your sweat-slicked curves. 

But it is when his eyes settle on your face, that a sort of peace soothes his expression.

“You were amazing.”

You can’t help but smirk, allowing yourself to feel cocky for once. “Of course I was, I won.” 

Art’s cheeks dimple with the strength of his grin.

“It’s not about the win. It’s how you moved when you played- like you could bend the whole world to your will. It was so beautiful. And you…” He pushes off the door and walks right up to you, chests almost brushing as he nudges your chin up with his finger. “You are so, so stunning.”

As he leans in, even though you don’t try to stop him, words of weak protest pour out of you.

“Art we shouldn’t. Not here-“

He cuts you off with a taunting kiss, his tongue trying to prize your lips open as his arm wraps around you.

His hand shifts up the sweaty material of your vest and lays his palm flat against the heated flesh of your lower back, all while his other hand trails up your outer thigh and beneath your skort to grab your ass.

You lean into him, hands wrapping around his neck and only when he draws back to kiss his way along your jaw, do you have a chance to speak again.

“Art, Tashi will be here soon. If she sees-“ 

“She won’t care.” 

Your brow furrows, but the confusion isn’t enough for you to stop his lips moving over your neck. “What?” 

As Art answers, his hand leaves your rear to dip beneath the waistband of your skort. You shiver as the pads of his fingers tickle all the way down, toying with the top of your underwear.

“You are all Tashi sees now.” Art clarifies, proceeding to nip at your exposed shoulder with his teeth. “You’re her everything. She could walk in on us right now and it wouldn’t change a thing.”

That gives you pause, indignation spiking at his easy dismal of Tashi.

You pull away from Art and he groans quietly but lets you go, his expression remaining completely content. 

“How can you say that?” You ask, growing irritable even as you let him take your hand in his.

“Because you’re everything that I couldn’t be for her.” He says. 

You sigh exasperatedly. “What does that mean, Art?” 

You don’t know why you’re asking, as you’re certain you already know the truth of it.

Art smiles, his other hand lifting to smooth a few sweat slicked strands off of your forehead. When he’s finished, his fingers settle with running over your cheekbone.

“It means…that you are all of her dreams realised. She resented me because every time I played, no matter how well, she knew it was nowhere near as important to me as it would have been to her had she never been injured. She hated me for not wanting it more….but, you have enough passion for tennis to play for the both of you. I never had that much to draw from. So, as long as you keep winning like you just did, she’ll love you. She’ll love you because you’re doing her justice.” 

After giving that insight that rang so true it almost hurts your ears with its incessant clamouring, Art leans in to kiss you again. You place a hand on his chest, gently pushing him back. 

“You felt like you were playing for her and it made you miserable.” You argue, hurt by the thought that his behaviour towards you is just rooted in gratitude that you have lifted the burden off of his shoulders. 

“It was different for me.” He answers simply. “I was miserable because I knew none of what I did was enough. I was still failing her. Tashi wants to watch great tennis and I didn’t give her that. You will. You are giving her that.” 

The way Art was speaking was producing within you a burgeoning unease; he was steady and assured, like he’d spent a long time thinking about this. And there was an undeniable undercurrent of pleasure to his speech.

A large part of Art was elated that the burden had been shifted onto you. 

But could you really hold that against him? You had seen how he was bending and breaking under the weight, it was why you’d told him to retire.

It was now your job to keep Tashi’s heart beating, you had known that the moment you’d agreed to let you coach her. That had been your choice and one freely made. 

So Art was right, you had to keep winning and you had to do so spectacularly. 

This was not a fresh revelation of course, but the possibility that Tashi wanting you close to her was entirely contingent on tennis, began to terrify you.

 You estimated you had a good five years left before you’d likely be forced to retire, but then what would become of you? Would Tashi even care to have you in her life after that? You were not bound to her like she was to Art by their daughter.

As if he can feel how your mind is whirring through the skin of your cheek, Art tips up your chin again and claims your mouth for another kiss. 

When he pulls away, he rests his forehead against yours, noses brushing. 

“When I think about all that you are, tennis doesn’t even register.” He says sincerely, placing a sweet peck to your lips.

You cherish his touch and ach for more, but it isn’t quelling the panic ripping into your insides like wind whipping up in preparation to become a storm.

“Art, I can’t- I need to tell Tashi what happened with us.” 

No anger or irritation appears on his face at your blurted words, but his other hand falls onto your back so he can pull you closer and you can tell he’s definitely upset about something. 

“What happened?” He rasps. “You’re placing what we have in the past tense. Is it not still happening” His fingers press into your skin proprietorially. 

“I can’t lose her, Art. But I also can’t lose you.” 

“Then tell her.” He says,  bringing your hand to his lips and kissing it. 

“You’re agreeing just like that? It’ll ruin your marriage.” 

His lip tugs up in the beginning of a bitter smile. “Tell her. It won’t change how she sees you.” he affirms “Then you should ask her about Patrick.”

You barely have time to process his implication when the door opens.

 The two of you pull apart as Tashi’s head pops in. She looks entirely unbothered as her eyes glance off her husband before settling squarely on you.

“Get in the shower, we’ve got to get moving.” 

And just like that she’s gone again.

━━━━∙⋆⋅⋆∙━━━━

“Do you need him?” 

Tashi’s question catches you off guard.

You’ve both been sitting in silence- her nursing a glass of wine and you with herbal tea as you both look out across the London skyline. Lights of skyscrapers are strung out across the black like fairy lights. 

You know who she’s talking about, but you’re terrified to acknowledge it.

You stop yourself from giving into the instinct to peer back through the open sliding door and into the hotel room where Art is watching TV. 

“In what way?” You ask, fiddling with the handle of your mug, still looking forward. 

Tashi huffs, putting her glass down and then turning to you, kneeling beside you on the outdoor couch. She takes the mug out of your hand, setting it on the nearby table before curling her fingers around your chin and forcing you to meet her unflinching stare. 

“Will Art improve your game or will he wreck it?” She sees your eyes widen and shushes you, stymying the words that had been gathering on your tongue. “This isn’t about me. I’m your coach, so I need to know that you’re going to keep giving this your all.” 

“I will.” You nod furiously, still held in her grip.

Tashi’s eyes flicker down your lips before finding your eyes again. Her hair is loose and being blown into your face. 

“I need you to tell me that if he’s watching you in the stands, that you won’t choke.” She says. “What the two of you have needs to light a fire in you, or it fucking dies. Do you understand me?” 

“I won’t choke.” You insist, your tone hard.

Her full lips press into a pleased line. “So are you going to keep dominating?” 

Slightly breathless, your eyes fall to where your fingers have been absentmindedly brushing her knee. You let your digits outstretch and as your eyes return to Tashi’s, you tentatively run them over her scar. You feel her shiver. 

“I’m going to keep dominating.” 

You both go still, and just as the corner of her mouth tugs up, she’s leaning in. You inhale a sharp breath as her lips just skim yours. She holds there, not pressing any further. 

When Tashi speaks, you feel her lips form the words against your own. “Then you do whatever it takes.” 

You truly couldn’t say which of you closes the distance, it feels more like an external, undeniable force driving the two of you to converge.

 When Tashi begins to move her lips against yours, her hand cradles the back of your head, twisting into your hair and pulling. You can’t help but let out a soft moan into her mouth, a hand landing on her waist and digging into the thin fabric of her silk shift.

Tashi draws back first, her hot breaths on your face as she presses two fingers to your throbbing lips. 

The question that comes out of your mouth has no malice or jealousy behind it, just an aching curiosity: you want to know her completely, in the way that you used to, and Art’s words from the locker room told you there was something you don’t know. 

“Tashi, what happened between you and Patrick?” 

She doesn’t rear back, she doesn’t slap you like she might have, she just lets out a slow almost contented breath.  

“I slept with him.” She admits calmly. “A few years ago in Atlanta, and the night before the Challenger match against Art.” 

All at once the visceral passion of that match makes so much more sense and even though you’re aware how twisted it is, you laugh. 

“You forced them to have the best match of their lives.” You say, your tone warring between disbelief and awe. 

Tashi answers with another brief, but ardent kiss to your lips, before she’s rising to her feet, her demeanour steady. Her expression is already returning to the stern set of your coach. 

“You need to get to bed. It’s a busy day tomorrow. Your physiotherapist is here at eight am. Nutritionist at eight-thirty.” 

You nod in agreement, lips still tingling as you rise to your feet. 

The night breeze stirs your hair and the thin fabric of your robe. Only when you turn do you see Art leaning in the doorway, his arms crossed against his chest, the fabric of his grey shirt strained against his muscles. 

When you meet his gaze he smiles so fondly that, combined with the residual heat of Tashi’s contact, you’re set ablaze. 

Right now you have both of them.

“Stay here with us.” Tashi asserts, running a hand over Art’s arm as she passes him to head inside the room.

“No need for you to go wandering down the hall in your nightgown again.” Art continues, the corner of his lips lifting as he holds a hand out to you.

You take it, letting him draw you inside. 

When the two of you reach the massive Queen bed, Art pulls back the sheets and you crawl happily into the middle of the mattress. 

All at once your exhaustion hits you, the softness cradling your aching form both lulling you into drowsiness and making your limbs remember each strained movement of the day.  

Your eyes fall shut, so you’re not sure who it is who causes the bed to dip, but you lean into the warmth irregardless. 

Art’s toned arm wraps around your torso as he draws the back of your body to be flush with his front.  He’s already pulling hair away from your neck and laying lingering kisses there, when movement in front of you causes your eyes to flutter open. 

Tashi’s standing in the bathroom doorway opposite you, her form backlit by the warm light as she finishes rubbing lotion to her arms.

 She watches Art holding you and she notes how he’s kissing you, a frenetic vibrancy takes over her expression. 

You hold her gaze as she switches the bathroom light and walks over. When she crawls under the covers, one of Art’s hands is moving past the neckline of your robe, his thumb running over your nipple. 

You sigh, your head falling back against Art’s chest, but your hand is moving forward across the mattress, searching for Tashi. 

It’s such a terrible idea-  an act that will join you all in another irrevocable way, but you have to have it. You have to have them. 

If you’re going to play tennis with Tashi as your coach and Art still in her life…you can’t choose. You can’t separate yourself from either of them. 

Your hand makes contact with Tashi’s as she lays herself right in front of you. She intertwines your fingers and leans down to kiss your chest, her lips skimming your collarbones. 

Art draws his hand away from your breast and his touch travels down your body, between your legs. 

You moan as Tashi’s mouth explores your chest, her tongue brushing over the swell of your breasts all while Art is pressing his knees between yours from behind. Now more open to him, he bunches your robe in his hand and rucks it up until it’s gathered at your waist. He pulls down your underwear.

When Art’s fingers begin to tease your centre, your gasp is lost as Tashi covers her mouth with yours, her free hand threading into your hair. 

Between the two of them, you find security in the ecstasy they draw out of you. Your entire body is flushed and sweating, cheeks red and chest heaving.

You’re beyond overwhelmed, but you try to savour every small touch and shift of their bodies.

Mostly you’re trying to remember the sensation of Tashi, because you have a feeling this may never happen again with her: even in your addled mind as Art begins to roll his hips, a finger pressing inside you, you’re aware that for Tashi this could simply be a form of motivation. You know that if she thought you needed this now, in order to keep playing the way you had today, then she’d do it without question. She’s motivating you.

 But is that all this is for her? It certainly means a lot more to you.

Tashi was the first woman you had been attracted to, the first person to make you question the limited nature of your desires as a young woman. And then she’d been your best friend, you’d loved and wanted her…and then you’d lost her. 

You both knew this wasn’t a sustainable dynamic, it would likely never be repeated, but for now you would savour being desired by the woman who had awoken yours so long ago. 

Right as Art presses another finger into you, plunging them the two in almost lazily, as if he has all the time in the world, he whispers in your ear: 

“Are you okay?” 

Tashi is still kissing you, but draws back when she hears the question, her lips plump and glistening. She’s giving you the chance to answer, you realise. 

The glorious tightness inside you worsens, friction growing as they stop touching you. 

“Yes.” You whine impatiently.

Art chuckles into your neck as you grab his wrist and guide him back into you, his fingers curling inside your warmth. 

But Tashi’s lips don’t return to yours, instead she leans down and presses them to your forehead before she’s crawling out of the bed.

You’re not worried by her retreat because you’ve always been able to read her face. As she backs away, your orgasm drawing closer as Art fucks into you with his fingers, you see that she isn’t regretting anything. In fact, she’s pleased. Not necessarily with what’s happening in front of her, but because Art–someone she has loved and still loves in her own way–can give you the intimacy she can’t quite bring herself to. 

You play tennis for Tashi and Art loves you for both of them. You think you can live with that.

 Even though you know you could, you don’t begrudge Tashi for any of it. She’s given you this. She’s given you Art and in as much as she can, she’s given you herself. 

As she slips out of the room, no doubt to go to her Mother’s suite and to her daughter, you are entirely content. 

Once you’re alone, you buck up into Art’s hand, your ass grinding against his hardness. He groans deeply against your neck and you almost cry out in protest as he pulls his fingers from right when you’re so close to release. 

But you are not left bereft of him for long. His arm moves beneath you, bracketing your chest with his hand and settling with a soft grip against your throat. He pushes down his pyjama pants.

It’s all too much when he begins to tease his hardness against your core. 

“Art. Now.” You reach down and dig your nails into his now bare thigh with force. 

As his grip on your throat tightens ever so slightly, Art complies and pushes himself into you from behind. He sounds drunk as he whispers into your hair:

“This will never be enough.” He thrusts into you with sweet slowness, letting you feel every tiny thing. “I’ll never have enough of you.” 

So lost in the pressure of him moving inside you that you’re alienated from your capacity for speech, you can’t find the language to tell him how this feels for you; you can’t tell him how much it means. 

Then he speaks again, his movements becoming more forceful: “I’ll never have all of you will I?”

You whimper as his hand that’s not on your neck dives between your legs, adding pressure with his fingers even as he fucks you.

“You do have all of me.” You answer raggedly, relinquishing free movement entirely as he cradles your body so restrictively.

He’s like a snake, tingling around your form before consuming your entire being.

“Tell me it wouldn’t change anything if it was just us.” Art begs, his breath catching in his throat and body shaking. “Tell me I’d be enough for you.” 

He thrusts again and you almost break with your shuddering release. You don’t try to remain quiet, crying out into the night. Art continues to move in you, desperate in more ways than one. 

“I can’t Art.” You admit, tears of pleasure and a sweet sort of pain gathering in your eyes. “I can’t tell you that. We need- we need them. B-both of them.” You stutter out, relinquishing yourself to your euphoria. 

Them. Them being Tashi and Patrick.

 You don’t understand Art without either of them. You don’t understand yourself without them. 

Everything was in relation to them, even the sex you and Art are having right now isn’t just about the two of you. And you both know it.

An indecipherable noise comes from Art as he pulls out of you, and in a blink, he’s rolled you onto your back and is pressing himself into you again.

His pace becomes rapid as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, hips snapping against yours.

You wrap your legs around him, driving him deeper as his body begins to tremble.

When Art comes apart, draping himself over you as he gathers himself, a tear of utter confusion rolls down your cheek and falls into his hair. 

Whatever comes next, at least you know you’ll never be alone. Art is a part of you. Tashi and Patrick are part of you. 

Without each other, there is no survival.

[minimomoe]

How to Train your Demon

Pairing: trueform! Sukuna x Fem Reader

Summary: Life has all kinds of wins and losses. You don't know which category to put your new demon husband in though.

Tags: MDNI!, red string of fate trope, true form sukuna, librarian reader, soul mates, reincarnation, accidental summoning, love at first sight (but it's one-sided (until it's not)), Sukuna is demon, but he's v much in love, smut and stuff eventually i guess....

AN: smut in this chapter!! p in v sex, fingering, creampie, trueform sukuna still but it's pretty tame. lemme know if i forgot anything

Part: I. II. III. IV. V. VI. VII. VIII. IX. X. XI.

Revisit rule: "Develop a Commanding Voice"?

When seated at the dining table your mind was too full to eat. Not only did Sukuna’s lustful words bounce around in your head, but a sensible, more pressing thought pushed itself to the forefront. 

The book that Sukuna came from was no longer lost. 

You shifted in your seat. Uraume looked at you with a slight frown. 

“Is the food not to your liking, ma’am?”

“No. I mean, the food is fine, Uraume, that’s not really the problem,” you sighed. “And why are you standing over there? Where’s your plate?”

“They don’t eat in front of us,” Sukuna answered for Uraume. 

“At least sit down. There’s no reason for you to stand over there.” 

“I have other chores I must attend to,” they politely declined with a bow. 

“Wait. I wanted to ask you something. Well, the both of you,” you said with a hint of gloominess that Sukuna picked up on immediately. Uraume carefully sat down at the chair in front of you and you twisted your hands in your lap as you voiced what was troubling your mind. 

“Now that we have the cursed book back… what now? What is the end goal?”

You held your tongue back from asking the main question you had on your mind. 

Are you going to leave me?

You’ve known him for a week at most. You shouldn’t be so worried if he went back to where he belongs. You could go back to life as it was with you, Cleo, and your totally normal, mundane, sans demonic partner life. That was what you were trying to make yourself believe, but the thought of Sukuna no longer being around anymore tightens your chest more than you’d care to admit. 

“Uraume informed me of the bind that was put on me. It is rather simple. It can only be done by the one who is my soulmate, but when broken I will become human. Mortal body without powers.”

“You’ll be like me?” You looked at Uraume and they nodded slowly as an answer. “How about you Uraume? What will happen to you if this bind is broken?”

“I will also become mortal.”

“Do you want that?” You asked quietly. “Would you mind being human?”

“I cannot leave you to fend for yourself.”

You bristled at his words. “I’ve been doing just fine without you.”

“Of course you have. You wouldn’t be my wife if you couldn’t,” he grinned. You lost your despondent tone at the slight mention of you lacking anything. He lived to rile you up in harmless ways. If it diverted your attention away from whatever troubled your heart he’d gladly take your sharp words with a smile. 

“You should make the decision on your own. Don’t let me influence you,” you huffed out. 

“I do as I please and I am staying here,” Sukuna shrugged. Cleo emerged from her hiding spot to climb in his lap and he gently caressed your ragdoll cat with a content look. “I can’t open my domain and I do not sense anyone with cursed energy. Times have truly changed.” 

“I’m happy to hear that,” you muttered. It was hard to hide the relief that flooded your veins. You brushed your feet on the side of Sukuna’s leg under the table. It was supposed to be a tender gesture, but it made his eyes darken and he handed Cleo over to Uraume. 

“Get out,” he ordered. Sukuna’s eyes never left yours as Uraume disappeared with your cat tucked under their arm. 

“I didn’t finish my food,” you started. 

“You never wanted to eat. Come here.” 

Sukuna grabbed one of the legs of your chair and dragged you to his side. The wood screeched to a halt when he could no longer bring you any closer, so his hands found your waist to hoist you on the table. You were barely able to shove his plate of untouched food out of the way before you could sit on it. 

“Really? On the table?”

“We can do the floor instead,” he offered, his lips already finding the pulse in your neck. Your fingers carded through the short hair on his nape, holding him closer. Soft moans fell out of your mouth that Sukuna covered with a salacious kiss. You parted your legs wider to cage him in, and his sets of hands found tasks to do. Shirt, pants, and panties were torn off your body, leaving nothing hidden from Sukuna. 

You were on display for him, fully undressed and dripping to the touch. He hunched over you, sucking and biting your lips, his hands trailing all over your body. You arched your back off of the table, your arousal building in your lower stomach. The tips of Sukuna’s nails scraped up your thighs, reaching for the apex of your thighs, and you briefly broke the kiss to complain. 

“Your nails are too long. They can’t go inside.” 

“You have never complained before.” 

You cocked your eyebrow up. “Times have changed.” Hearing his own words echoed back at him prompted Sukuna to bite your shoulder. It was harmless, not enough to break any skin, but enough to wipe the smug smile off of your face with a shaky hiss. He focused the pad of his thumb on your swollen clit, circling the sensitive nerves with the type of precision to show that he has done this before. You gasped, clawing his arms with curses falling from your lips. Tears welled in your eyes and threatened to decorate the bottom half of your face. Despite your attempts to wiggle out of his arms, Sukuna made sure you took all that he was giving to you. 

“Fuck me already,” you gritted out. 

Sukuna looked up at you with your hardened nipple in his mouth. He pulled back his lips on the bud, leaving his sharp teeth encircling the bud, an action that sent shivers down your spine. “I will break you if you rush me,” he said in a low warning tone. 

His voice was husky with arousal. You held your bottom lip between your teeth before releasing it in a pout, still writhing under his touch. With as much energy as you could muster you cupped his face with both hands to bring him to your lips to lock them in an embrace. You released his face to scrape your nails down his broad chest, his abdomen, then held his hardening length.  

“Come on, Sukuna,” you purred in a saccharine voice. His cock was hot, heavy, and much larger than anything you had ever held but it only excited you. You stroked and kissed his tightening jaw, licked the vein that was prominent on his neck and watched him close his eyes for a moment . “Haven’t you waited long enough?”

It was admirable of you to want to climax at the same time, but it was not possible at all. Sukuna knew that you could not take him just yet, and put all his effort in making you come first. You fell apart at the seams, shaking in his arms. Sukuna watched carefully as you murmured his name over and over again through clenched teeth. He brought his drenched fingers up to his mouth to lick clean while tremors ran through your body. He barely gave you a break, moving back to the chair with you sitting on his lap, and his eyes swimming with lust. 

“You talked as if you knew what you wanted, so take it.” 

His length stood up straight, the tip leaky with pre-cum. Your tongue darted out to wet your lips. You grabbed his cock with a firm grip, pumping it slowly while thumbing the slit. Hands, hands, and more hands, found the small of your waist, your lower back, cupped your ass as you positioned yourself over the head of his cock to steady you, guide you. 

“It wouldn’t kill you to be a little more romantic, would it?” 

You whispered it in his mouth, not really expecting an answer. With your hands on his shoulders you slowly took inch after inch of his length, aided with your essence from your first orgasm running down your thighs to help you take in his girth, but it still wasn’t enough. The tears that you were barely able to hold back the first time stained your face, clumping your lashes together in tiny little spikes as you blinked them away. 

“And how would I do that?” Sukuna asked. He caught a tear with his thumb and brought the salty liquid to his tongue. “Be more romantic?” You sucked in a shaky breath to say, “K-kiss me?”

The trembling of your voice directed all the blood in Sukuna’s body to his cock, making him swell in size. You couldn’t even keep your eyes open. They were screwed shut as you focused on breathing. 

“Say that again,” Sukuna ordered. 

“I want you to kiss me,” you begged. It was just as good as hearing it the first time. Your fingernails dug into his shoulders. You bit your bottom lip harshly, swallowing more of his length just to see that you were still only halfway down when you opened your eyes. Sukuna chuckeld darkly when you let out a frustrated groan.

“Dammit Sukuna, kiss me already.”

And kiss you he did. Your head spun with his ardent dominance. Sukuna’s lips covered yours like he was trying to eat you alive. He lifted you up, laying you flat on the table, and fitted himself inside of you at a better angle than when you were on top, an angle that blurred your vision because it perfectly pressed where you needed the most. You clawed at his back with each of his thrusts. His hips snapped against you, each stroke nudging your clit and chipping away at your sanity. The table creaked wearily below you from the weight of your bodies. 

Sukuna growled in your ear, his own release closing in on him. You tied your legs around his waist as best you could, not wanting to separate before the best part. 

“You are mine,” he stated. It was a fact like how the sky was blue. You hastily nodded, too overcome with emotion to answer vocally. He knew your voice would fail you but still Sukuna pushed for your response by grasping your chin.

“Y-yours. I’m yours,” you gasped. As soon as those words were uttered you fell off the precipice of passion Sukuna carried you up to. You fell apart at the seams, sobbing in his arms as you came undone, and Sukuna closely chased his high behind you until you felt his warmth fill your insides. An exchange of heavy pants filled the air until yours finally leveled out. Sukuna gathered you up in his arms, carrying your limp body to sit on top of him in the dining chair once again. His chest made a perfect pillow for you to rest your head while you waited for your heart rate to slow down. You winced when you shifted in his lap, the beginning effects of your coupling settling in your bones. Sukuan’s hands rubbed soothing lines down your back. 

“You almost fucked me through the table. That’s a first,” you chuckled. 

Sukuna snorted. “You made me wait long before consummating our marriage.”

“What an unholy matrimony,” you yawned. You felt heavy like your bones doubled in density and your eyes couldn't hold themselves open for much longer. Sukuna peered down at you. 

“You finally made peace with the fact. What made you change your mind?”

“Sukuna, we’re butt naked in my dining room and you’re still inside of me. I think I should just be honest with myself for once in my life, no matter how absurd this is. Plus, you’re not all that bad to have around.”

A wave of embarrassment  crashed on your head when you heard your words out loud. “Oh god. I have to wipe down this place with bleach. And Uraume! They probably heard us,” you groaned. 

“It is nothing they haven’t heard before. We used to be worse,” Sukuna smirked. 

Horror filled your eyes. “Worse?!”

Sukuna lifted you up and began to make way towards your bedroom. Every footstep sent shocks of pleasure to your core as he didn’t bother to remove himself from your thighs. He carefully managed to lay you in bed, your body flush on his chest. “Days at a time we would spend locked away. Uraume was the only one allowed near to bring food and water.” 

“Unbelievable,” you scoffed. “So what, you mean to tell me you can go again?”

“How did you say it earlier? I could fuck you through this tiny bed of yours,” he said in a low tone.

Your ears flashed hot at his words. You covered his face with your hands and pushed him away. Of all the more modern sayings he could have picked up, that one just had to be his first. 

“Not so fast, big guy. I still got work in the morning.”

Thanks for reading loves!! lemme know what ya think xx

Part: I. II. III. IV. V. VI. VII. VIII. IX. X. XI.

M.list || Twitter || Ao3

[risuola]

PROMISE — F. READER x GOJO SATORU

You felt sick watching your husband fighting for his life, but your unborn daughter seemed to sleep just fine despite your complete distress. Little that you know, Satoru made some promises to her.

cw: manga spoilers!!! (chapters 223-235 with not much of specific details, but it’s resolved around the events), reader is pregnant — 0,8k words

a/n: this piece has TWO alternative endings — FLUFFY & SWEET & ANGSTY & DEPRESSING — choose your fighter, I guess

Sick. You felt sick, sitting in the room full of people, most of which you didn’t even recognize. You felt sick watching the screens that showcased live what was happening in the middle of Shinjuku. You felt dizzy and nauseous, and so overwhelmingly sick when you heard people betting money, trying to make profit of something that was so painful for you to watch.

“You think he’s gonna win that?” “Nah, he’s dead.” Some men were talking, chuckling like it was entertainment of the highest level for them. And maybe it was, maybe some sorcerers could benefit from the outcome that you considered the worst one, but you felt like the world was crumbling down in real time. Your world was fighting for his life right in front of your eyes.

You sat there paralyzed, unable to move as all of the voices around you slowly became distant. Yuji’s rambling, Kusakabe’s comments and Yuta’s notes all blurred into one, incoherent noise in the background and you wondered what happened, what went so wrong to lead to all of this. Why it felt like you’ll never see Megumi again? You raised that boy, you talked down his teachers in middle school from expelling him when he beat the hell out of other students, you encouraged him to train harder when he felt down, overwhelmed by the comparison to Gojo’s strength. Why now it felt, like you’ll never get to force another hug out of him, like you’ll never see his grumpy face again? You’ve already lost Tsumiki, the tears from that still felt fresh on your face and now you had to watch your husband on the battlefield, being wounded time after time by a cursed spirit that should have been dead thousand years ago.

You felt your insides turning and twisting into a very tight knot, every time Satoru got hit by Sukuna’s attack, every time you saw blood staining his light skin, you felt a little closer to heart attack. It was a sight you could never familiarize yourself with, Gojo never bled. He never was cut, not even punched and now, all of his body was covered in slits. Just once in your life you saw him in a puddle of blood, decade ago while still in high school and after that, never again. Until today.

You were scared. Petrified with the thought that he might not come back, that you might never feel his warmth again. The idea of going further in your life without him spread out in your mind in the colors of the worst kind of nightmare, your throat clenched, tears rolled down your cheeks as you watched his domain shatter. Infinite void fell down in pieces and the reds and blues were not effective either. It’s worse than nightmare. It was torture.

You felt the pain, deep in your heart, spreading in waves to every cell of your body. You wanted to go there, to jump in and help him, to shield him from the attack even if it would cost you your own life. You wanted to go there and slap Sukuna out of Megumi, to hold the boy to your heart and tell him that it wasn’t his fault, that everything’s gonna be alright. But you couldn’t do either of those things. You knew you’d only be an obstacle, a limiting factor to your husband’s abilities. You knew your tears wouldn’t bring Fushiguro back. You were strong on your own, but now, you were helpless just as everyone else. And you had a life to protect.

And so, you sat there, rubbing soft circles into the bump of your stomach that held the little girl that was yet to come to this world, wondering if she’ll get to know her father. She will, you knew that, deep down underneath all of the layers of fear and worry, you knew that Satoru will win, because he has to win. He has to be there with you, he has to know if his daughter has the same blue eyes as him and the same cute nose as you, because he bet on that. He has to be there to take all of those goofy selfies with the newborn, he has to be there to showoff the miracle that he’s created with you, to be able to put new title to his name – the best dad.

The baby seemed to be sleeping, calm in your stomach despite the utter distress that consumed you. She probably knew better than you not to worry about Satoru. She probably knew that her daddy will never leave her. He promised that to her, when before leaving to the Shinjuku district he pressed his lips to the curve of your bump, whispering things you barely heard.

He made a promise so he had to keep it.

[circeyoru]

Hello you amazeing writer!! I'm here and for starters, I just wana say HOW MUCH I LOVE YOUR WRITEING HDHDGDGDG

*Cough cough* Anyways...I am here to add a sprinkle of angst, cause it feeds my blood-lust /j

I remember reading a non-canon version of your "Unwanted soul" fic, where the reader gets redemed (like Sir Pantious) and at the end, they het back to hell while keeping some of the angelic fetures (like the wings) and Alastor ripped them off, ignoreing readers crys (sience now he wasn't under contract).

I was wondering...what if, after all that, reader woldn't actulay fully forget Alastor? Personaly, I really REALLY hate feeling any kind of pain, even if it's as small as a paper-cut, so what if reader gets so upset over all that that they ignore Alastor and just start feeling mode down than usual?

Other than that, I HOPE U HAVE AN AMAZIENG DAY/NIGHT!! HOPE I DIDN'T BOTHER MUCH :3

HAD A STRESSFUL DAY! BUT I'M HERE TO DESTRESS!! NO BOTHER AT ALL!! Okay, back to normal.

Go to MASTERLIST for the works. This ask is for {Unwanted Souls}. The specific mentioned ask is this, so give them a read before this.

The angst is back. Prepare yourself, really, I mean it...

Yes. Reader/you will and do shut down after the stunt Alastor pulls. It's similar to the state you were in before your suicide on Earth. But! Alastor's keeping an eye out for everything and anything you do so you don't get the chance to plan your third death.

Needless to say, you regret coming back because Alastor was and is beyond your control. If you had his soul, you'd destroy it. Alastor knows, that's why he's not offering it anymore. He did consider it, but the way you were unresponsive to him, he trashes the idea.

You don't talk to him, you don't listen to him, you don't look at him, and you don't acknowledge him. You know, any form of reaction and attention you give him, be it good or bad, he'll take it all with gratitude, and you're not giving him that pleasure. Not what you went through because of him.

Alastor does everything to coax you into looking at him again, he knows he can't threaten you because that's what you want. If he was angered enough to kill you or attempt to do so, you win and he'll be left with nothing. No more you. He can't let that happen. He tried returning with wounds or accidentally harming himself while making your meals. No reaction.

He asks you what he did wrong, what can he do for you to at least go back to the way you were. He didn't like how you were like a doll or a broken puppet. It was so agonizing to see you like this, even worse when the reason was him. You didn't even touch the anime and books he brought for you, not even the phone, or tablet, or laptop. Nothing.

After a long long while, you made up your mind. A plan brewed. One that will give you your eternal sleep.

"I want a feast with my favourites." You spoke so softly one day. Yet Alastor heard it loud and clear, he nodded, it has been forever since he heard your voice. The last was when you were begging him not to rip off your wings and halo that took you away from him. He got to work, saying he'll be back soon and asked for your patience.

Patience. You've given him too much. Your eyes burned with fury when his presence left the apartment and your home domain. You took your blank notebooks, summoning angelic weapons one after another around your bed. The angelic steel stacked up as did your exhaustion. Your eyesight blurry and your body heavy. Just a little more and you'll sleep. The feeling was so similar to when you embraced death the first time. Then you fell asleep. Forever.

When Alastor returned, he was terrified to find you surrounded by angelic steel. His mind didn't register that you were the one to summon them, like the time you saved him all those years ago. He only rushed forward to you, ignoring all the wounds on his legs as he walked pass the deadly material. He tried shaking you awake. You're eyes didn't open, your body was cold. Heartbeat? It was so weak.

He shouted for you to wake up. He pleaded and begged. He apologized. He was wrong. He was all wrong. It was all his fault. Just wake up. Please! He needs you! He can't live without you! You can't abandon him again! Not again! Please!

Before, in the canon of my story, you woke up because Lucifer told Alastor what to do. But here, he never knew about your relationship with Lucifer, nor would Lucifer tell him how to wake you up. Lucifer watched from afar as you slowly died from your powers that drained your very soul. Saving you wasn't an option, he said he'd respect your choice and won't question them. He's keeping it, he's your friend. When you were going on with your plan, you too realized that the only true friend you had was Lucifer.

You can't handle Alastor, you shouldn't have thought you could. You shouldn't have accepted Alastor.

You shouldn't have saved him that day.

Alastor deserves to suffer while you enter your eternal slumber.

[abyssruler]

I REALLY LOVE THAT XIAO FANFIC OF YOURSS(flowers and unplanned proposal) could you perhaps make a part 2 of it? About xiao & reader's 'married' life? :D

(from this fic) hm not necessarily a part 2 cuz i’m too lazy to do one, but here’s a few hcs!

your wedding ceremony’s a small affair consisting of you and xiao, lumine, hu tao, zhongli, paimon, your close friends (xingqiu, chongyun, xiangling, etc.), aaaand a few (re: a lot) of adepti who got curious when they heard that the conqueror of demons was getting married to a mortal.

your wedding’s probably one of the most blessed ones out there simply because of the sheer amount of adepti that attended, which means they had to give a compulsory wedding gift. they all gave various things which all ultimately served as a trinket to ward off evil and bring prosperity.

also, apparently lumine’s got a few scores to settle with some of them because she unwittingly trespassed and stole from their domains, whoops. it’s only thanks to the kind funeral consultant that everything was resolved peacefully. the wedding’s a shitshow and a half, but the important thing is that you and xiao were lawfully wedded by the end of it. the only problem you really had was if zhongli the consultant was qualified to officiate the wedding. xiao assured you multiple times that he is, trust me, there is no one more fit for it than rex—i mean, zhongli.

nothing much really changes except for the fact xiao is a little embarrassed at the revelation that your relationship was basically one sided until hu tao of all people spilled the beans to you. you do let him sleep in your bed without needing permission anymore, which you had to explain to him multiple times that since you’re married now, what’s yours is his, which means he doesn’t need to wake you up at midnight just to ask if he can lay down beside you.

lumine is, as always, the one who keeps pushing you two together and keeps taking credit for being your so called matchmaker. as a self proclaimed love guru, she’s your go-to when you need advice regarding married life, but after hearing various suggestions like pretending to drown so he can save you and falling off cliffs to experience that ‘damsel in distress and white knight feeling’, you’ve decided that lumine should be banned from making romantic advices.

it’s not too bad—being married, that is. it’s pretty much the same as when you thought xiao was just a roommate. you still do the chores together, he still cooks dinner for you, the two of you still argue on who gets to have the last piece of chocolate on a packet (he always lets you win).

except, if your home was full of flowers back then, now it’s fit to burst with the amount xiao showers you with. he’ll come home from doing whatever adepti stuff he does with arms full of different kinds of flowers. it once got to the point where a random person entered your house, thinking it was a flower shop only to be met with a very grumpy adeptus asking what business they have on his home.

suffice to say, you told him to limit the flower giving to once a week. if only so you won’t have to resort to using your bathtub as a vase for them.

[deathmetalunicorn1]

After the reader (Replacement Fighter) wins their fight & heads out, the gods & a few humans wanted to do an "interview" with them, and to maybe also get to know them better. So they went to the reader's "domain" kind of place through a large door that was adorned with fancy decorations.

Soon they arrived to an enchanting space, a blend of modernity & cultural aspects. It was very cold but not freezing as there was a pond of exotic fish. The scent of roses, jasmine & sea salt were all over the place. The reader was laying underneath a shaded pavilion with golden chains hanging from it's pillars. Beside them on a table were a bunch of treats. The reader was rolling around as they played on their phone while indulging on their snacks. And it turns out the reader was the embodiment of the "ipad kid" stereotype.

Gods: Odin, Poseidon, Hades, Thor, Loki, Apollo & Anubis

Humans: Tesla, Sasaki & Lubu

I apologize I didn't have too many ideas for this one 😥

-Holy sweet hell- you won! And not only did you win- you won so easily! You made it look so easy!

-When you first walked out many thought you were weak, that you were going to lose your fight quickly, only for the exact opposite to happen- you won within minutes!

-You almost looked bored as you walked back, yawning deeply as you could now return to your sanctuary, not even bothering to stay for the rest of the tournament- you did your job so now you were free, and it was up to the others now.

-The tournament was quick to end, with all those who were killed being returned to life, but you didn’t know that until they all came knocking on the door of your sanctum.

-They were curious about you, wanting to know more about you, as they had never met someone like you before, and the moment those who had passed before you heard about you and your power, they were curious as well.

-They wanted to know the secret behind your strength- your skills- and now with this newfound friendship between gods and humans, as they were all now willing to work together to make the world better for everyone.

-Upon entering your sanctum, everyone froze, seeing the paradise that was laid out before them, a mixture of cultures, from statues, different landscapes and gardens from all around the world, including ponds, some with fish and Loki was convinced he saw a massive snake in one of them.

-They were in awe, walking around, looking for you before Nikola spotted you over in a large pagoda, “Over there!”

-When they arrived, they were stunned to see the variety of snacks laid out all around, with you laying in a large pillow pit, playing on a switch.

-They had to do a double take, making sure that this was the same person who won their match within minutes- it was you, there was no mistaking it as you stuffed another snack into your mouth, “Hey.”

-Anubis quickly leapt into your pillow pit beside you, “You won your match in minutes and amazed us all and all you can say is ‘hey’?!”

-You didn’t know why he was upset, holding up a chicken skewer to him, which he quickly took, enjoying the unique flavors.

-You invited them all to sit around with you and enjoy the snacks, but you were playing your farming simulator and didn’t really want to be bothered, which annoyed some of them as they wanted to know more about you!!

-You were definitely an oddball- you were such a powerful warrior but here you were eating and playing video games like you weren’t in a fight for your life- that was what was at stake- but you weren’t bothered in the slightest.

-Perhaps there were more sides to you, ones that they would need to be patient to see.

[gale-dekarios]

I think Gale is a touchy feely person who needs to keep his hands on the Tav whilst they make love. He's gotta believe they're real, that they're with him, that it isn't a hallucination or a dream. He strokes their hair, he plants kisses along their neck where the heartbeat is strongest, and feels their breath against his shoulder. Even the simplest act of fingering or stroking them is a way to know they're truly in front of him. Tasting their arousal just to have evidence of their existence. He loves knowing that this is his newfound life. His new purpose. His new reason to live and not give up so easily as he almost had. Mystra wanted him to die for her. Tav wanted him to live for himself. So forgive him if he constantly needs the littlest of reminders to know Tav is truly real, and not just a hopeful dream.

retrospective edit: hi im charlie and welcome to my tedtalk. 50/50 on whether or not any of this makes sense, because i did in fact pop 9mg (prescribed) sleeping aides a half hour before writing this, so i could wake up tomorrow and realise this was all gibberish. or maybe not! i should not be the judge of that rn

regardless of how you or your character feels about the line, i truly believe that gale believes that tav/his romantic partner is a god/dess, and it's the things like this that cement it for me.

when you think about it, (traditional) worship is very much devoting your life to a diety, and receiving some benefit back, which could really be a range of things from feeling comforted and secure about your place in the world, to moreso your clerics with actual divine gifts bestowed upon them, to chosen, like gale, who, (at least in his case) gets to kind of... tap into the wellspring of that god's domain and understand it more than any other mortal could.

this type of devotion is even purer than his devotion to mystra. the reason being is that whilst i dont believe gale ever was devoted to mystra for nefarious self-serving purposes, it would be remiss to gloss over that he did enjoy certain luxuries that he wouldnt have if he wasnt so close to his goddess, and whilst tav offers a lot more than mystra ever could both emotionally and in the service to him living an actually good and normal enriched life, this doesnt translate to any practical benefit that could compare to a literal deity -- (clumsily worded, but again, in this case im referring more to endless knowledge and immense mastery over the weave and recognition of status among his peers rather than curling up on the couch companionably).

which is to say -- i promise there's a point -- a tav, in all of their mortalness, that gale truly worships, with all of his devotion (which is a lot, he practised), must be very special for him indeed.

so gale gets ""nothing"" in return for the same if not a higher level of devotion than he ever shows mystra (i mean, when it literally comes down to it, he completely ignores her, an actual literal goddess's, direct orders bc you asked him to, so theres no doubt who wins that particular fight.) BUT -- and this is the point that i promised -- the real clincher here is that tav ASKS for nothing. well, again, not in the way that a deity asks for something. a deity asks a devotee to give them their life, what tav asks for is that gale HAS his life to do with what he chooses, and for that, gale chooses tav.

devotion, with gale and tav, is both freely given, but also freely taken. not selfishly, but in acceptance. gale had no choice, really, but to follow mystra's orders, but he followed tav anyway. how does that make tav anything less than a deity? that level of blind faith? tav accepting gale's devotion by virtue of just loving him is such a beautifully mundane piece of godhood, and comparing that to something as shallow as the ambition mystra offered is like comparing night and day.

so of course gale treats tav like he caught lightning in a bottle. he spent his whole life in the service to a goddess, devoting his whole life for the celestial equivalent of breadcrumbs -- as awesome (and i use that word as its original meaning) as godly power can be, nothing that was ever given to him truly cost mystra any real exertion -- but with tav, there is no expectation of exchange, only the full weight of one man's worship, and that is what would cause gale to treat them like an illusion. of course it does. gods that ask for nothing but for you to do the things that are in your best interest are not a thing. but tav does exactly that. how wonderful is that? how pure is that? is there truer devotion? so unmarred by any external benefit?

touching divinity is something that gale's had the extraordinary luck of having twice, but that does not make those experiences equal. his deity, that allows him to run his hands through their hair, to kiss their eyelids, and yes, indeed to also have desperate, sweaty, mortal sex with, without ever once asking for anything in return except that he remain whole and healthy? by fucking god will he make sure this is real.

[vodika-vibes]

Hey idk if this has already been done but an Echo x reader enemies to lovers like reader is a separatist.

First Burn

Summary: The Separatists have won the war. The Republic lies in tatters, and the Clone Army has been repurposed for use for the Separatist Army. You are a member of Serrano’s Intelligence Department, and you just found out that you’re being gifted a clone to help you with your work. Needless to say, no one is thrilled about this.

Pairing: ARC Trooper Echo x F!Reader

Word Count: 2484

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: Alright, sorry that this took so long, but I've been working on it since I got it, basically, and I only managed to think of an ending that made me happy today. I hope you like it! The title comes from a Hamilton song, I think. It doesn't have anything to do with the story, but it's what I was listening to when I started writing. And, for all that this is an AU, it is not part of my AU event.

“I’m not sure I understand,” You say blankly as you look from the irate-looking man, clapped in chains, over to your direct supervisor, “Has my work been less than satisfactory?”

“Not at all.” Your Supervisor, who also happens to be your uncle and your warden, replies as he roughly claps you on the shoulder, “Count Dooku is very happy with your work. Which is why you’re getting a clone.”

The clone in question glowers at your uncle, and you’re not sure you blame him.

“You want someone who, up until a month ago, was an enemy against us to work in intelligence? Does this seem...wise?”

“It’s fine. It’s hardly clever enough to interfere.”

You’d be stunned by your uncle’s casual racism if you weren’t used to it. So you sigh and rub the back of your head, “Alright. But when this goes terribly, I reserve the right to say, ‘I told you so’.”

“Ha! You won’t have to.” He claps your shoulder one more time, “Have fun!” And then he’s gone, leaving you alone with a man who, you’re sure, would sooner put a blade in your throat than anything else.

“Right, well...what should I call you?” You finally ask.

“CT-1409.”

“...right. I’m not calling you by a number.” You can’t help but wonder if the Republic ever gave him a name. It would be awful if they hadn’t.

You’re surprised when he looks surprised. What kind of awful stories must the Republic have spread about your people for him to be surprised at your statement?

“...My brothers call me Echo.”

“Echo,” You nod once, committing his name to memory. And then, almost carelessly, “Nice to meet you, Echo.” You absolutely need him to see you as a person, rather than a Separatist. Because if he wanted to hurt you, no one would come to save you.

He shoots you a look, “Where are my brothers?”

“No idea. But I can look into it if you want.” You turn and head deeper into your domain, “Follow me please, there are some safety things we need to cover.”

“Like what?” Echo sounds sarcastic, though he is following you, so you’ll accept the small win.

“Well, primarily, this facility is located deep underground. Most of the machines down here are dedicated to life support. If any of them stop working, we die before anyone even realizes that there’s something wrong.” You reply.

“It would take time to run out of air.” He argues back, logically.

You pause and look at him, “You misunderstand. If any of these machines break down, this entire facility will be filled with toxic gas. We’d be dead before we even knew what was happening.”

Echo stares at you, “What.” It doesn’t sound like a question.

“Toxic gas. Dead instantly. I’m not sure what wasn’t clear about that.”

“I’m more confused by the fact that this sounds like a prison rather than a place spies hang out.”

Well. He’s not wrong.

You shrug but continue, “We have a small army of maintenance droids whose sole function is to keep the machines working. Please don’t mess with the droids.”

“Noted.” He follows you further into the facility and then stops, “Aside from the droids, I haven’t seen any other people.”

“Yeah, well. That’s because there aren’t.”

“So, what,” Wow, his sarcasm could be used as a weapon with how skillfully he wields it, “You work alone in intelligence?”

You shake your head, “There are plenty of people who work in intelligence, but I’m the only one who works here. I’m the best analyst that Serrano has.”

“So you work alone.”

“Well, it’s not like I can leave, now is it?” You start walking again, “Keep up, Echo.”

He falls into step next to you, though he doesn’t say anything as you show him around the facility. It’s not large, all things considered.

The majority of the space is filled with all of the machines and computers needed to run the life support. Your working area is a decently sized room that could probably fit ten people comfortably, for all that you use it alone.

The living space, though, is much more homey.

“So, this is where we sleep. And eat.” you pause, “And basically do everything that isn’t work.”

It’s not tiny. There are two distinct bedrooms, on opposite sides of the living room, and each bedroom has a fresher attached to it. The kitchen is decently sized and has all of the appliances that you might need to survive.

“My room is the one closest to the door,” You motion to the door, and then you motion to the other one, “That one’s been empty since I was moved in, but I air it out and clean it weekly so you don’t have to worry about dust or mold.”

“Moved in—”

“Sorry?”

Echo glances at you, “You said you were moved in, not that you moved in.”

You don’t say anything for a moment, taking your time to consider your words carefully, “Once, there was a group of people who felt, strongly, that the way that Dooku was doing things was not beneficial to Serrano as a whole.” You finally say, “Unfortunately, being a former Jedi is like having a cheat code for life, so—”

“So this is actually a prison then.”

You smile bitterly and hold your hands to the side, “And we both have life sentences.”

Something softens in his hard gaze, “I’m sorry.”

You shrug, “Don’t be. I made my choice, and I made it knowing what the consequences might be.”

“Brave.”

You laugh, “Well, you’d be the only one who thinks that.” You head into your kitchen and wave your hand over the holo-computer to wake it up from its sleep, “Anyway, this is where we order food, clothes, and personal things that we might need.” You explain, “Orders need to be submitted by 6 pm on the last day of the work week, and everything we order will be delivered by noon the next day.”

You move one of the holograms, showing a half-formed grocery list.

“And it’s delivered accurately?”

“Yep. If we can’t get a specific item, a message will arrive to my personal comm.” You explain, “I’ll add you to the contact list so you can get those comms too.” You fold your arms, “What else—”

Echo leans in and adds a couple of food items to the list, looking impressed when the list shifts and adjusts itself so it remains sorted logically.

“Ah! Laundry!” You walk over to a sliding wood door and pull it open, “Washer, dryer,” You point to each object individually, “We’ll probably want to work out a chore schedule, but I don’t have a problem doing all of the laundry.” You point to three baskets, “Darks, lights, towels. Our dryer isn’t the best, so towels need to be dried on their own or nothing will get dry.”

Echo stares at you, and then his gaze slides around the room. “How long have you been down here?” He finally asks.

“I was thrown down here 6 months after the war started.” You reply honestly.

Echo turns his gaze back to you, “You’ve been down here for almost two years? Alone?”

“Well, it’s not so bad.” You lie with a shrug, “Nothing was stopping me from enrolling in the local University so I got another degree. In Communications. And I learned how to cook.”

“You had to have been lonely though.”

“Well. Loneliness is relative. Better here than dead, right?”

“I guess.” Echo looks around for a moment, “You never tried to escape?”

“Yeah, I did mention the toxic gas, right? Kill us instantly?” You shrug, “Besides, where would I go? My uncle is the warden.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Anyway, you should probably go and put in an order for clothes and hygiene stuff. There’s enough clothes in storage that you’ll be fine for a bit, but they’re old.”

“Yeah. Good idea.” He murmurs.

“And you wanted me to look in on your brothers, right? Got any names?”

“My twin brother, Fives. And a couple of others. Jesse, Rex, Kix—”

You pass him a pad of paper and pen, “Here, write them down. And I’ll see what I can dig up.”

“Thank you.”

“Thank me after I find you answers, and not a moment sooner.” You flash a small smile at him and then turn to head back to the storage room. Echo needs the spare clothes from previous prisoners, and he’s going to need time to write down names.

Still, it is nice to have someone to talk to after all these years.

You hope that he warms up to you eventually. Or this is going to be a very long life sentence.

Eight months into his life sentence, Echo has to admit that it’s not terrible.

Oh, it’s not great by any definition of the word either. But it could be worse.

His cellmate is a stellar chef, a talent created through years of experimentation. Not to mention she’s quick-witted and clever, able to exchange quips and barbs with him without stumbling over her tongue.

She does talk a lot, though. Non-stop, almost. 

He’s not dumb, he knows that it’s a habit that she developed over two years of isolation to keep herself sane. Honestly, she talks almost as much as Fives does. Luckily, he’s used to that.

And, begrudgingly, he likes her. Likes her enough that he gives her a nickname, Firefly.

Likes her enough that, four months ago, his plans for an escape morphed into plans for the both of them to escape. He just has to work out a couple of bugs. 

Like how to keep them from dying when the poison gas fills the prison to kill them.

He frowns at the pad of paper, absently tapping his pencil against the diagram that he’s painstakingly mapped out. Echo never uses a datapad, if he can help it.

Fortunately, firefly keeps a bunch of notebooks on hand, and she doesn’t question him when he asks her to destroy a sheet of paper…or twenty.

“Whatcha working on?”

Echo glances up at her, “You really want to know?”

“Well, yeah.” She waves her pen at him, “You’ve been working on… whatever it is for the last eight months, and I’m curious.”

Echo leans back, “It’s an escape plan.”

“You’d leave me?” She asks immediately.

Echo rolls his eyes, “And escape plan for the both of us.”

Surprise flashes across her face, “You’d take me with you?”

“Would you prefer that I left you behind?”

“Ah, no.” She grins at him, “Honestly, I thought you hated me and were just being polite.”

Echo stares at her, “I gave you a nickname.” He says, exasperated.

“True, but as a friend or foe, you were very unclear.”

He laughs, “Who gives foe nicknames?”

“You clearly never met my friends.” She replies, “My bff had a nemesis who she called Furnace.”

“Do people have nemeses?”

“Uh, they do if they’re dramatic.”

He laughs again, “Well, I don’t do foe nicknames.”

She hops to her feet and crosses the living room to drop on the couch next to him and she flings her arms around his neck, “You loooove me~”

Echo presses his hand over her face and pushes her off of him, “Stop being silly.”

“Never.”

He rolls his eyes, “Anyway, this is what I have, but I’m stuck on how to deal with the poison gas.”

She ducks under his hand and leans against his shoulder, scanning the map. A thoughtful escapes her, and then she taps a spot on the map, “The Maintenence tunnels.”

“No, I considered that. They get too hot for a human to survive.”

“Yes, they do.” She agrees, “But if we alter a maintenance droid, the maintenance tunnels will stay cool enough for someone to survive the tunnel.”

“But the poison gas—”

“Is light.”

“Sorry?”

“The gas is very toxic, but it’s also a very light gas. It rises.”

“So, if we’re already in the maintenance tunnels—”

“And the temperature is high enough to hide our heat signatures—”

“Then by the time the gas fills the entire prison, we’ll already be gone.” Echo finishes, and then he pauses, “I thought you never tried to escape?”

“Doesn’t mean I didn’t make plans. Hundreds of plans, each more impossible than the last.”

“Why didn’t you try to escape?”

“Escaping the prison is the easy part, Echo. Where would I go? I was a Separatist, the Republic never would have taken me in. It was just safer to stay here.”

“And now?”

“The Republic is no more, and the average person is finally starting to take off their rose-color glasses.” She shrugs, “We might actually be able to steal a ship.”

“Steal, huh?”

“Yeah, well. No one is going to just give us a ship, Echo.”

He laughs softly, “You ever hotwire a ship before?”

“You haven’t?”

“Oh? Where does a nice girl like you learn how to hotwire vehicles?”

“I had a very formative childhood.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Echo leans in so that his face is only an inch away from hers. “You know, I changed my mind. Maybe I do love you.”

“You only love my ideas.”

“Your body isn’t that bad.”

“Rude!”

His grin widens, “So, when can we make this happen?”

“Mm…a week? Maybe two.”

“That soon, huh?”

“That soon.” She agrees.

They fall into a comfortable silence, and then Echo smirks, “So, how do we keep them from getting suspicious?”

“Well, we have to act normal.”

“And when we start spending all of our time together?”

“I dunno, I’m sure we can come up with something.” She says with a sigh.

A slow smirk crosses his face, “I think I have an idea.”

“Oh? Wha—” She squeaks when his lips land against hers, coaxing her into a deep kiss. His tongue slides against her lower lip, as he presses her back so that she’s half lying under him.

“Like that.” Echo breathes out as he supports his weight over her.

She blinks at him, wide-eyed, and deeply flustered, “Yeah. That’ll work.”

“Great, I’ll move into your room, cyare.”

“Um…okay. But the beds aren’t that big.”

Echo leans in and kisses the tip of her nose, “You let me worry about that.”

“And later? When we’re free from Serrano?”

“We stick together. After all, I can’t just abandon my girlfriend, right?”

“Girlfriend?” She asks softly.

“Girlfriend.” Echo agrees, “Unless you’d rather not?”

“Well, I’m not opposed.”

He grins at her, wide and boyish before he leans in and kisses her one more time, “Alright. I need to move my bed into your room. Wanna help?”

“I suppose I’d better.”

Echo rolls off of her, and offers her his hands to pull her to her feet. Fives is going to find this hilarious. He goes to prison and comes out on the other side with a girlfriend.

[heyhay13]

Lightning Round QnA!

We had over 250 questions in the form and we focused on ones that were very open to anyone in the cast. So specific detail questions got left out :(

Here's a lightning round of questions to answer for y'all and my ask box is open if you have more!

Rae/Heyhay Questions

What happened to Icarus's birds?? We know Rae said he'd take care of them, but with the birds being wacked and Icarus whole memory type thing, what would happen with that.

Sherb and I talked about this a bit and landed on the birds seeking out Rae and he builds an aviary for the strange new little friends following him around. I might even write a fic for it!

Heyhay how long did the scrapbook (shown at the end) take to be made?

I worked on it for nearly a month and a half between organizing with the artists and making it myself!

How did you come up with Vaeh's Name?

It's from Fenris' sister Nevaeh!

Will you continue to cosplay the characters after this?

Absolutely!

To Rae/Hayhay: what was your favorite memory to make in the Always Remember Book?

I think probably all of the wedding details. I loved talking with my friends to plan out the details and outfits SO MUCH and a lot of the poses are based on my own wedding photos!

Are there any plot lines that you wish you could have done or explored more in depth, but couldn't due to time?

We initially had some ideas for finding a few more Telchin temples, including Project Protetus. I really like building the temple/facilities so that would have been fun!!

How did lore planning/pre stream work?

We usually plan out rough ideas for a stream in dms and then meet 30 minutes before a stream to go over everything, dry run some things like flight paths, and do sound checks!

Out of all the characters on fable smp, which one do you think you could win in a fight against?

Ven lol

Will we see other versions of the fable characters in other smp's like Bound?

You might >:3

If your character didn’t ascend, what would they be the god of? And if they did ascend, were there any other domains they could have been the god of other than the domain they got?

Rae's took FOREVER to actually land on. I was really stuck on wanting something that felt more correct than Knowledge and we tossed around a lot of ideas until landing on Wonder.

How much of the relationship constellation was planned?

Literally only Raax and Ocie's original partners (Rust, Jerry, Shawn) were planned! The others came about naturally as the lore progressed.

Did Rae ever get better at baking/cooking?

YES! At least slightly-

How old is Rae in the time period that Rye made in Rae’s epilogue

Not an exact age for Rae, but his epilogue takes place when Vaeh is roughly 4-5 years old.

The first two seasons have “names” (endstone reset and skulk reset) but what would be season three’s?

I like to think it'd be called the "Last Reset"

What is your favourite kind of fanfictions written about your character? (Tropes/themes/etc)

I'm a massive sucker for Hurt/Comfort fics-

Clarification Questions

What was that one gold aura building near the temple of creation in S1?

It was a build from Sherb's hardcore world at that time!

Why did Rae remember Icarus? I thought everyone was supposed to forget but I might’ve misunderstood

Rae remembers Icarus as a child up until when Icarus' first death would have been! Isla would also remember Icarusa as a child as well.

Was the release me book from season one written by fable?

Yes!

What is Haley? She came back from the dead but no body ever said if Midas made her come back or if she was a god.

Midas brought her back, switching her and Fable's places so he would go back into Purgatory

Why couldn’t Haley see quixis’ changes from purgatory?(and fable)

There is no record of Quixis in the Akashic Records. This is also why Icarus is missing from the records in Rae's epilogue!

General Questions

Are you guys gonna do another smp where its everyone as the same cast?

Nope, not with this exact cast at this time, but we all are on a bunch of other smps you can check out! Mer, Bound, Siege, and more!

Is there a reason behind all of the seeds you use in Minecraft? Or is it just the first biome that pops up is the new setting for the season?

We actually look really hard for a good world seed that we like. For season 3, we really wanted a good spot that the tree could be near the ocean and this seed worked out great for that!

Will we be able to have a world file of S3?

YES - it's coming soon!

[scaryscarecrows]

Needles and Stitches

Mark goes from tired to pissed in about five seconds. That’s how long it takes him to turn on the light to his office and clock the Arkham Knight sitting awkwardly in the Sucker Chair. He was supposed to be in Arkham City until next Wednesday.

“The fuck did you do.”

“Doesn’t matter. I’ve got an eight-inch laceration right between my damn shoulder blades and I can’t reach it. I already tried.”

“And you made it worse, I’m sure.” Good morning, sunshine, it’s gonna be one of those days! It must be bad, though, or already infected, or he wouldn’t be here. “Come on, lemme see what you did.”

“Helmet stays on,” the Knight says roughly. “That’s non-negotiable.”

Mark is willing to argue. He is the doctor, and this is his goddamn domain and that’s just the way it is. He’s not willing to argue right now, not with this guy. The Knight has yet to really hurt them, but he most certainly can, and there was one poor bastard that tried to pull the helmet off, last year. Was.

But he’s also not giving him the complete win. It’s the principle of the thing. So he just grunts, jerks his head towards surgery, and locks the door behind them.

His armor is pristine, so no clues there. Mark also has no fucking idea where to even begin getting that off, so he just makes an irritated gesture at the whole mess.

“Well?”

The boss fiddles with one of his many pocket knives for maybe thirty seconds more before reaching up and unlatching the chest plate. The armor under that is kevlar, like theirs, and it’s almost the same, barring the heavy plating across his shoulders. That comes off the same as the chest plate did, with hidden latches, and the rest of the suit unzips at the throat.

Whatever Mark was expecting, it wasn’t this. He’s seen scars like this very rarely, though he’s seen the fresh wounds a lot more, when he and Trent were out in Russia. Burns of all kinds, ranging from small cigarettes to deep ones from a hot poker. A latticework of knife scars on…honestly, everything. What looks like a crude surgical scar at the gut (self-surgery, maybe? Mark’s got a similar one himself), and…honestly, he can’t pin the odd, almost knot-like thing at the hollow of his throat. There’s a horrific slash going from rib to hip that would have been a near-disembowelment, and several of the ribs are just crooked enough that it’s clear they were broken and healed for shit. A short, jagged scar, also older, says that he took a knife through the shoulder at some point. Anything else is hidden under a white bandage wound awkwardly under one arm, over the other, and around his ribs.

These scars are old. The body that bears them is not. Twenties, maybe, if he had to guess. Jesus Christ, no wonder he’s…quite frankly, this fucked up.

“Bandage off, turn around,” he says shortly. “Lemme see what you’re bitchin’ about.”

The Knight’s back is exactly zero percent better. Long, deliberate knife wounds trace his shoulders, barely visible under what looks like, hand-to-God, whip marks. A whip with glass embedded in it, he thinks, judging by the odd pockmarks. But more importantly, right now, there is indeed an eight-inch gash sitting pretty between his shoulder blades, right in an absolutely dickish spot to reach for self-stitches. And yeah, there’s the beginnings of an infection, though he’s clearly tried to at least keep that at bay.

“You gotta give me something to work with.”

“Somebody got lucky with a machete.”

“And how did that happen?”

“I was distracted by the bastard with the cattle prod.”

That explains fuck-all.

“Hm. I’m guessing you’re up to date on your tetanus shots.”

“Yes.”

“It’s something.” The infection hasn’t really had a chance to set in; the gash has clearly been cleaned and had some ointment or something dabbed on it, at least. “Could be worse,” he continues, politely ignoring what looks like the faint rubbing scars of a metal collar. “You didn’t let it get out of control, at least. It’s just a little red, no puss yet or anything super nasty. No trips into the sewer or anything I need to know about, right?”

“No. Nothing like that.”

“Good. All right, I’m gonna clean it up to my satisfaction, stitch it back together, and then you’re going to leave off your stupid ninja-shit for at least ten days. No gargoyles, no flips, no zilch or on God, I will open you back up and stuff that thing full of those little prickly things that grow out in the jungle, you hear me?”

“You’re welcome to try.” The Knight’s voice doesn’t have the usual humor to it, but he’s not pissed off, either. He’s just–nervous, is the best word Mark’s got for him. He’s nervous.

“I don’t try. I do. This’ll be easier if you just lie down and keep still. You got any allergies I should know about?”

“Artificial cherry,” comes the quiet mumble. Jesus Christ, he’s got a real comedian on his hands here.

“Then I’ll keep the grape lollipops aside just for you,” Mark snarks. “Now let’s get this thing closed up before some idiot falls off a car and breaks their arm. Again.”

THE END

[an-au-blog]

Re-ordering (highest to lowest) the bounties in the strawhat crew because Oda is either way too bias or has the memory of a goldfish. (I'm rating them if I was a marine in canon) (updated I didn't mean to miss anyone I'm so sorry)

1. Luffy

for obvious reasons: he's the captain, strongest, etc.

2. Nico Robin

i cannot stress this enough. NICO ROBIN IS SECOND!

She is the only person left alive that can read the ponegliphs, therefore the only one who can get ANYONE to Laugh tale. She had been chased by the government since she was eight. She's not only one of the smartest people not only on the crew, but dare I say on the Grand Line, but she's also one of the strongest. (like idk how people keep forgetting this, did we not watch Wano???) She's been an assassin and the right hand man of one of the seven warlords for years. I'd even say she was kind of his body guard tbh...

3. Franky

I'm putting Franky so high up because of a couple of factors. The obvious ones: He is physically strong, also extremely smart (as he was an apprentice to a man so feared by the marines they looked for any excuse to execute him, whether because of his social standing or skills) He has lasers(one of the strongest, if not THE strongest weapons in their universe) designed by Vega Punk himself. But most importantly: he memorized the blue prints of a weapon important enough for the world government to try and assassinate as many people as they need to get their hands on. He can build it at any point and there's no other copy of it.

4. Zoro and Sanji (same bounty)

I'm putting them above the rest mainly because I still respect Oda's decision to put them higher up. Physical strength aside, each of them, in my opinion, has a good reason to be deemed as dangerous. Logically, one would put the Captain's right-hand man above the other, but Sanji's "Vinsmoke" status, much as he hates it, boosts him up. He may not have grown up with them or have the same mutations or "upgrades", but the people don't know that. Fear wins half the battle.

5. Jinbei and Brook

By very little below №4, if they're not the same, they are very close (but IDK which one is above the other.) What would be scariest to me if I was the world government's shoes, would be influenced and propaganda, and these two are extremely influential figures and loved by many.

But let's start with Jinbei: He's an ex-warlord. He is lobed by man, if not all of Fiahman island. He's highly respected and feared. The waters are his domain, plus he's physically very strong.

Brook: a master swordsman and a man who can control people with music?!?! I feel like we keep forgetting that. He also spent the time skip become an infamous rockstar, who's fans FOUGHT THE NAVIE so they could listen to him! Influence-wise, Brook takes the cake.

6. Usopp

With half-a-mind to put him in the №5 bundle, I'm putting him a bit lower for one reason only: not everyone would know or believe what happened in Dresrossa. Undoubtedly, he had created a cult-like following there and he can spin a tale to his advantage, and technically being pronounced a "God" would make it... a cult... But that would lose brownie points in the major public's eyes. Even though his skills are admirable, he's not as strong or wildly influential as Jinbei (a literal warlord) and Brook (the Michael Jackson of op)

7. Nami

Navigator, they can't go far or fast without her. She has had a record with the navie before as a petty thief, but other than her charms and wits, there's no reason for them to put her higher...

8. Chopper

The Navie does not care for Chopper. I don't think they'd put him anywhere above the last spot in any universe... sorry.

[fiuworks]

timsasha au mind explosion emoji

SEASON 3-4-5 SPOILERS BELOW i mean it

erm anyway welcome to my au where timsasha survive season 3 somehow ive been thinking about it (im 100% sure people have done this before this is just me thinking about it) just some tidbits about it before i sleep:

tim survives the explosion but endures horrible burn scarring all over his body and has to have a leg amputated due to the extent of his injuries

daisy still goes huntpilled coffinmaxxing

the biggest thing i think about with this is that not!sasha was trapped in the tunnels by leitner until 158, but in this scenario ummmm. i dont know really? my working idea is that not!sasha is destroyed but the kind of entity that is not!them is still in the tunnels and sasha as her own person is exhumed from the destruction of her doppelganger and returned to the archives and this way the not!them can still attack everyone in 158

it also lends to a bit more emotional weight if sasha is in the archives when peter unleashes not!them and while distracted with the others she can have a bit of a cathartic whomp on the not!them for ruining her life and the lives of the people she cares about but really im spitballing here

both tim and sasha are helpless to martin's descent into the lonely because tim is in recovery for a while, sasha is in a coma for a week or so (LIKE A NORMAL PERSON) post restoration and is in the hospital for a little longer than that and is mostly occupied with helping tim in his physical recovery and while doing that sasha can't reach martin at work other than a curt few sentences and when tim is back with her neither can he (they both don't know about martin's mothers passing as well)

timsasha rekindle their romance because i want it to happen

tim and sasha i feel would try to reach out to basira and melanie and georgie but i just know that would go nowhere and it becomes frustrating for everyone involved

when jon returns i think they'd try to unionise with him to get answers out of martin but that would not work and it just splinters the archives further

unfortunately i dont think anything they could/would do changes anything as s4 ends and the Change starts

tim is trapped in the not!them's domain and taunted with the trauma of his past and is slowly losing himself and his self-identity, sasha is originally trapped there too, but in a kind of jonmartin-esque uno reverse situation she manages to regain herself in the not!them's domain and can wrangle tim from his stupor and she tries to kill and fight not!them by herself but when jmart roll up there jon eviscerates not!them as planned and the core archives gang are reunited because i like having fun here

they do split up as jmart go on their little apocalyptic couples councelling sessions and travel toward london but they probably don't bump into basira

they might meet up with the what the girlfreinds cult and just check in with them but for the most part i think they're just trying to Survive

they do join everyone at the end and do survive

thats it really if you hate anything i just said im just a guy and my braincells are doing all sorts of gymnastics to make sure my ship stays winning so i mean whatever i love them im still workshopping this as i brainrot about it im writing this at 3am so just stay with me here really

[insomniac-chaos]

Odysseus winning against Poseidon:

(and my take on it)

Missed the live stream as I was in college. (Timezones, Yay) And saw it's uploading under the 1 pm sun in the parking lot as I waited for my friends.

And boy did I misread a few things but scrolling through Tumblr really pulled the blindfold off.

And I've seen a few people talking about this so here's my two cents.

Odysseus 1V1-ing Poseidon really doesn't make sense, it came out of nowhere.

(the wind-jetpack and Poseidon getting his ass handed is fun to watch)

Taking it in context it makes no sense, but my academically tired, heat cooked brain somehow managed to create a theory that I really want to share.

What if the souls weren't pulling Odysseus to his death, but away from Poseidon's Trident, what if all 600 men and his mom were helping him, and in that moment, Poseidon's defeat became inevitable.

Because yes, Poseidon is one of The Big Three, yes they were in his domain, yes he is the god of sea, yes he's the earth-shaker, strom-bringer, but.

What is a god's abilities, his rage, all his power to a Mother's Love, what is the sea in all it's dark glory and cold embrace compared to a mother's pray, her blessings, her plea, her desire to see her son home.

What is a god's arrogance next to a mortals remorse, the contempt that he was the reason 558 men died and then the remaining were also killed by the God King because of him, that his Captain bears that weight because of him.

What is Ruthlessness against kindness, gods' preach ruthlessness, they say sometimes killing is a must, but we are humans and humanity says mercy is to give to others, not to hoard it, and mercy is kindness, it is to greet the world with open arms.

What is one god's anger next to the determination of 600 men who couldn't make it home, who died because they didn't listen to the man who let go of his humanity for them , who didn't obey their Captain in life, but they can fulfill his desire in death.

The answer, Nothing.

Ichor may be gold, it may show the gods grandure, but;

The sea, the domain of the sea-king had been painted in red of the drowned men, red that belongs to humans, red that embodies the purest of loves, the color of burning rage, of realm shattering tragedies, the color of bleeding souls.

In that moment, the sea was not Poseidon's domains, it did not belong to any god or titan but to the mortals, and no god would have won.

The moment passed, Odysseus went home, he lived his mortal life and his bones turned dust, eons passed and no god brought Poseidon's defeat, letting the winds carry it to oblivion, letting the sea wash it's trace.

Because no fire created by the gods can compare to some sparks mortals leave behind,.

There's a reason they fear us, a reason they sperated our soul into two halves searching for the other our entire life.

No god, Ennosidas or Nephelegeretes could have won against the rage of six hundred and two souls.

.

.

.

Well that's just my take on it.

I've seen people insult others for saying how Odysseus winning came from nowhere, people are entitled to their opinions as long as they don't hurt other people, so we really should mind the way we speak.

[enquiringangel]

The Lost Boys and the Major Arcana

Since a couple of people have asked, here are my thoughts re: The Lost Boys characters/scenery as the cards of the tarot’s major arcana. I am trying to interpret based on the movie rather than diving into pure headcanon land, so some characters who are less developed in the movie don’t get so much attention as the main players. Sorry!

My knowledge of tarot is a hodge-podge and I don’t claim my understanding of card meanings to be absolute. Far from it. The deck I refer to when discussing imagery of the cards is the Coleman-Smith tarot (more commonly known as the Rider-Waite-Smith, but fuck that, Pamela Coleman-Smith carried that project)

Here goes:

0 - The Fool - Michael. The Fool of the tarot is at the beginning of a journey. As with all journeys, there are both opportunities and perils. The common depiction is of a young man carrying a bindle and walking towards the edge of a cliff, looking upwards instead of at the path in front of him. One meaning of this card is a warning to look before you leap, something which Michael could have done with hearing.

As far as imagery goes, this would work with both Hudson’s Bluff or the train tracks, Michael depicted as about to step off the firm ground of past experience and to plunge into what’s unknown.

1 - The Magician - David - If our Fool is our neophyte, The Magician is our adept. The Magician is depicted as a robed man surrounded by the symbols of the 4 suits of the minor arcana. An infinity symbol above his head, he points up with one hand and down with the other, reflecting the occult maxim: ‘as above, so below.’ This is a card about (among other things) competency and mastery.

As leader of the boys and Michael’s initiator into vampirism, David fits this role.

2 - The High Priestess - Star - The High Priestess is the gateway into the mysteries, and she knows more than she will reveal. The answers are there, but she won’t just give them to you. (Sound familiar?)

3 - The Empress - Lucy - A card about nurturing, generative and creative forces, this is only fitting as it’s Lucy’s role as a good mother figure that ultimately spurs the entire plot of the movie.

4 - The Emperor - Max. The Emperor is about authority. Not necessarily a person, but having authority in a certain domain. And authority - in the paternal, patriarchal sense - can be oppressive.

5 - The Hierophant - Max - This card is about traditional values and conformity. While being a vampire is transgressive, Max manages to be a boring middle-class white man who literally has a suburban house with a white fence.

6 - The Lovers - Star, Michael, David-. As far as readings go this doesn’t always refer to a sexual relationship. It is about relationships in general, kindred spirits, and about choices. Joel Schumacher considered these three the main characters, and it is ultimately the links between them that drove Michael to go down into the cave in the first place.

7 - The Chariot - Grandpa’s Ford - It’s about movement, both in the literal sense but also about taking action. The car has a rather key role at a critical juncture. The motorcycles could also work.

8 - Strength - Sam - We’re talking strength of the inner kind. There are a few contenders for this one, but I gave it to Sam because it’s only because of his refusal to give up on Michael that the human characters and half-vampires were able to be saved. Thorn can be the lion.

9 - The Hermit - Grandpa - The Hermit is a wise figure who knows more than you do. As the name implies this figure is often alone or keeping a distance from people or events, sometimes for the better. Sometimes not.

10 - Wheel of Fortune - The Carousel - Round and round we go, and sometimes we win the games that come with the ride, sometimes we lose.

11 - Justice - The Frog Brothers - The thing about justice is that it is very subjective. But if you think of some other ways this can be interpreted, such as getting consequences, and finding the truth, then maybe you can see why I chose Edgar and Alan here.

12 - The Hanged Man - Marko/Paul/Dwayne. This card is about staying the same, stagnation, being held in a transitional state. So like, being a vampire who can never grow up. I’m sure you see where I’m going with this. Plus, their little upside-down selves would go perfectly on this card.

13 - Death - Welcome to Santa Carla (Murder Capital of the World) - This card is rarely about actual death/dying. It’s transformation - the end of one thing and the beginning of another. Santa Carla is a nexus of change and beginnings/endings for all the characters as a result of the events of the movie.

14 - Temperance - Star - It’s about balance; too much of anything being bad for you, etc. Star manages to avoid killing and has done for some time, while Michael was a vampire for like half a day and nearly ate his own brother. Lol.

15 - The Devil - The Wine Bottle - It’s a card about worldly desires, sexuality, addiction, hedonism… All things inherent to vampirism.

(I was originally going to do David here, and he would’ve worked. The traditional image is of a Baphomet-style figure surrounded by a man and woman in chains…but the chains look like they would come off easily, if only they stoppes to remove them. Picture David in his wheelchair, smirking, with Star and Michael to either side.)

16 - The Tower - Edgar (climbing the ladder to the sleeping vampires) - major upheaval. Catastrophe. Shit is about to hit the fan.

17 - The Star - Star - Her name is actually not the reason she was chosen haha. This card is about hope, overcoming adversity and finding contentment. Star never gave up on becoming human again, and she was certainly content at the end of the movie.

18 - The Moon - Marko/Paul/Dwayne/David - Illusion. Deception. But on a more positive note, deals with intuition.

19 - The Sun - Laddie - This is a card with feel good vibes. Happy families, achievements, abundance… But on the flip side can indicate naivety and blind positivity. This card typically depicts a young child, so yeah.

20 - Judgement - Michael - Judgement differs from Justice in that it’s more like taking stock of your own circumstances. Michael is ultimately the one who has to make the choice about which half of his half-vampire nature to embrace.

Also consider he shares his name with the archangel…

21 - The World - ??? - The end of a cycle. But where there are ends there are always beginnings. Opportunity knocks, and another Fool gets ready to set off an a journey…

I couldn’t think of a character or scene that worked to express this, except maybe Max’s fiery death/the aftermath of, so I left it blank.

Edit: it’s Sexy Saxophone Man. He’s The World.