#this is his way of protecting people even when he’s fighting them

[cercandodiscrivere]

Quod fata ferunt | emperor geta x reader.

word count | 2.3k

tags | @self-shipping-doll13

warnings | 18+, NSFW, concubines, blowjobs, porn with too much plot, unbeta'd.

synopsis | Being the favored one of an Emperor came with many privileges, one of them being able to see his most human side.

Under all their power and their might, even powerful ruler are still men at their core.

gifs by @batty4steddie

Geta is worried.

You don’t blame him; you understand.

You were present when he decided upon Acacio’s fate: all it took to turn the common people against their rulers where good words and a fleeting display of gentleness among foes – which ultimately meant nothing. Greater men have begged for mercy within the walls of the Colosseum, their distressed cries ignored by the spectators.

No, it wasn't pity that stirred the crowd: the anger had been simmering in their minds before, biding its time for the perfect opportunity to release itself.

A single withered leaf can ignite an entire town if placed upon an open flame.

Geta understands the significance of this – so he is worried.

It is an uncommon occurrence, which in turn worries you.

He paces around his chambers, twisting and turning the rings on his fingers – gold and gemstones and colored glass that send shimmering hues throughout the rooms.

The same hand he is torturing now condemned a man just moments earlier: and even as it happened, you couldn't help but wonder if Acacio would be the only one to bear the brunt of fate.

“You did what you had to do” you try.

There was no specific reason for why you were taken – dragged – to his quarters, other than the fact that you happened to be near him when the rebellion broke out. Amidst the chaos, two praetorians seized both you and Geta as their comrades protected Caracalla and Macrinus.

Oh, it was an incredible privilege to be invited to witness the fights from the imperial pulvinar: and yet, if you hadn't been busy serving wine to your domine the exact moment the revolt started, you would have likely been left to be trampled over by a raging mob.

Three other favorites of the Emperors were also present, but you haven’t seen them since. They weren't present in the chambers where the twins and their arms-dealer discussed what had occurred. None of them came running when Caracalla erupted into screams, nor when he stormed out of the chambers followed closely by Macrinus.

Alone with your master, you watch as he paces back and forth.

The argument with his brother left Geta in an even worse state, if that is possible. His mind seems to be pulled in two different directions, the distress visible on his face.

He knows some of the words spoken by Caracalla may hold truth, despite being laced with the poison of his illness.

Could he have made a mistake in his decision?

The Gods themselves communicate with him in ways that you could never comprehend – not with words, but through the sacred blood he shares with them. Did he misunderstand their wishes?

Even in his divine state, he may not be immune to the burdens of human existence. After all, despite sharing the same sacred lineage, Caracalla's mind is still plagued with flaws.

“There was nothing else to do” you say again. You feel a bit useless as you parrot his own words back to him, but in this delicate situation you fear saying anything that could be taken as an insult.

Geta is a pleasant companion and a passionate paramour – for those who know how to handle him.

From a young age, you have been taught how to play the lyre. Over time you lost the quick skilled fingers needed to captivate an audience, but the lessons learned still serve you in other ways.

In untrained hands, the instrument produces nothing but a jumble of harsh and unpleasant sounds: only those who have mastered it can create a tune that leaves others yearning for more.

During your initial encounter with Geta, you likened him to a lyre; a rather silly comparison, perhaps, but figuring out how to please him in order to gain his favor felt much like learning to strum the strings at the right moment.

And what a masterful musician you’ve been with him.

Still, the Emperor possesses the fiery temperament of a powerful man not accustomed to receiving criticism. He is quick to boast and show anger - but just as quick to calm down and become merciful again.

I play a lyre made of splintered wood, you think, but quickly push the image aside before a smirk can form on your face.

"You made the right decision" you repeat as you stand up, trying to infuse your voice with comfort.

Your movement catches Geta’s attention. He stops in the middle of the room, lingering, but not quite still. His hands continue to fidget and twitch: he looks at you as if he had completely forgotten of your presence.

Taking advantage of his confusion, you approach him and gently place your hand on his tense arm. “The praetorians are fulfilling their duty. Has any crowd ever been able to sway them?”

There have been past attempts at rebellion by the common people - their leaders too weak, too consumed by hunger to have the chance to succeed.

When Geta finally speaks, he does so while grasping your hand, his gaze fixed on the windows once again. “They listened to that poet’s words. That has never happened before.”

You refuse to acknowledge it, but he is right. It is not uncommon for gladiators to captivate audiences with their skillful use of spears and brutal displays of violence – but never with peace messages or pledges of liberation.

In another life, the man’s perspective would have seemed almost convincing. In this one, you've witnessed far too many good-willed revolutionaries meet a violent end.

“Gentle words can’t win a battle” you gently stroke his cheek, tilting his chin towards you so that he focuses on your face instead of the chaos happening outside. “Gladiators tend not to live long” you add to further placate his mind.

Geta’s eyes move, following your gentle guidance. He leans in and presses his lips against the inside of your wrist, sending shivers down your spine from the warmth of his breath on your skin.

Being the favored one of an Emperor came with many privileges, one of them being able to see his most human side. Under all their power and their might, even powerful ruler are still men at their core. Still, in moments like this one – when he stares at you with such vulnerability and openness, as if your voice is the only thing worth hearing – it becomes harder to contain your feelings to a level deemed acceptable for your position.

“The Gods have spoken through you” you reassure him once again, this time shifting just enough so you can pull him towards the lectus. “To attack you is to declare war on the deities themselves.”

“My brother…” he starts, but his voice fades. His eyes are shrouded in shadows once again; crammed amongst the pillows, he appears almost like a scared child, lying down but still far from being at ease. You gently twirl his ginger locks between your fingers, feigning a calmness that eludes you.

“He is scared” you murmur. You search for words that are reassuring yet respectful; it doesn't matter how much Geta favors you above others, you would still find yourself in the dungeons if you showed Caracalla any less devotion that what his status demanded.

“The mob is loud, but screams are nothing to arrows and swords” as you talk, you gradually lower yourself onto your knees in front of him, never breaking eye contact. “The praetorians are loyal to you and you only, no pretty words can change that.”

He hums, a quiet sound. “What about your pretty words?” he smirks.

A mischievous grin creeps onto your face as you play with the delicate hem of the elegant ivory palla draped over his tunic. “All I say is for your satisfaction.”

From this angle, with white paint masking his features, he bears the same daunting presence as the marble figures that decorate the halls: a god once again, towering over his most devoted disciple.

“All I do, is to please you.”

It’s eerie how greedily his gaze seems to follow even the slightest fraction of your movement, yet he remains seated on the cushions without making a single motion. His breath escapes in short puffs, tickling your forehead.

Now it's your turn to take control: this is the moment when he abandons his all his titles and becomes nothing but a man.

You remain on your knees between his spread legs, lightly tapping your fingers against his inner thigh - but still, he does not budge.

The challenge in his eyes is unmistakable, as if he's daring you to do something - anything - without his assistance.

As you press your lips against his clothed cock, he lets out a loud grunt, as if there was no fabric between your kiss and his skin. The noise goes straight between your legs, but this evening is not meant for you.

You continue to tease him, kissing your way up and down his thigh, deliberately avoiding his erection. To his credit, he tries his hardest to stifle his groans as best he can, but you can sense his muscles tensing and his patience wearing thin.

You want to consume him. You tug at the fabric of his tunic; this time, he doesn't hesitate and quickly moves into action, removing his own clothes until his hips are bare.

He begins to mention something about comfort, gesturing towards the luxurious pillows that surround him - but you're already nuzzling at his exposed thigh and the words die on his tongue. With one arm slipping beneath his knee, your body presses closer to his, the other hand running along his skin, hot and damp with sweat.

It’s intoxicating how you can make Geta shudder even when you’re taking your time with it. Sometimes, you've questioned whether it's expected of you to just pleasure him as soon as he asks – but in truth, you enjoy taking your time, savoring the sound of his soft moans.

Mouthing at his pale skin, dragging your nails down his legs with enough strenght to leave a trail of soft red marks. You plant a kiss on the head of his cock, pleased to see that precum is already forming at its tip. You eagerly lap at it with your tongue, paying no attention to the way your actions cause him to grip the cushions of the lectus until his knuckles turn pale.

He lets out loud groan as you engulf him completely in the wet, slick warmth of your mouth. His legs shake on either side of you, his hips thrusting forward as your cheeks hollow, tongue curling as you suck him.

 He keeps moaning, seemingly unconcerned about how desperate he must sound. Under different circumstances, he may have been more conscious of his tone. Perhaps, if your meeting had occurred after a triumphant war victory or a grand celebration in his honor, he would be as confident and arrogant as you are are accustomed to - but now all he craves is comfort, and you’re sucking him into oblivion.

Tracing the tip of his dick with your tongue causes him to bite down on his lower lip in response; licking along the underside has him closing his eyes and sigh. Your favorite moment, though, is when he's in so deep your chin rests on top of his balls - and he can't help but release a deep, raw moan of pleasure as he tries to thrust more into you. 

You can tell he's already close just from this. 

You peer out from under your lashes, eyes filled with longing, only to catch Geta's gaze fixed upon you with adoration. His mouth hangs open in a silent whimper, his adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallows saliva. There is no being more magnificent than him in this right moment, neither god nor mortal.

Without warning, his hand shoots out and grabs onto your hair as you become more frantic. You whine, a mixture of pleasure and pain as his fingernails digs into your scalp, and he responds with even louder noises of his own.

His cock rests on the back of your tongue as he lets out rough and guttural groan and empties himself inside your mouth. His head falls back, his eyes fluttering closed.

You swallow it all, ensuring his eyes are back on you before nonchalantly wiping the cum from the side of yout mouth and licking it off your fingers.

Exhausted, you lean your head against his leg and close your eyes.

_

Geta's breathing is still uneven, but the haze of satisfaction is not enough to make him lose awareness completely – not  when Caracalla comes back into the room, shouting.

"Get out!" he growls. The harsh order is directed towards you, still kneeling on the ground, but his gaze is fixed solely on his brother.

In the past few months, there were times when he had lost his temper. Servants, concubines, hosts: everyone was subject to his outbursts of rage – but those were short-lived explosions, like fires on wet sticks.

Caracalla's skin is now covered in red blotches, visible even through the numerous layers of makeup on his face. Whatever words Macrinus exchanged with Caracalla during their private conversation did not seem to have a soothing effect on his temper.

“Get out, leave!” he screams again, pacing back and forth in agitation. This time, Geta helps you to your feet before nodding towards the entrance. His expression is serious once more, a confident facade to hide his underlying concern.

You are dismissed.

A chill runs down your back: you have witnessed the anger of the ill Emperor before, but never in such a furious state. Caracalla is yelling, Geta stands with his hands raised in surrender.

A moment of panic overwhelms you - even greater than the fear induced by the riots outside, but you quicly manage to calm yourself and take a deep breath.

Just as you approach the door, you catch sight of Macrinus once more. He watches the twins from afar, his gaze sharp and calculating, as if ready to intervene at any moment.

He's a strong man; he'll have everything under control.

With that last comforting thought, you turn away and leave.

[katerinaaqu]

Achilles being who he is could be a subject of his upbringing (and how CONTEMPORARY his case seems if one thinks of it!) - an Analysis

Soooo I got an amazing ask today here and got inspired for some random thoughts here!

Has anyone noticed that Achilles's complicated psychology might as well be a result of his upbringing and how incredibly MODERN his case can be? Think about it;

He was prophesied he would die early. His family of course was concerned about it (how similar it is to children born with terminal illnesses nowadays indeed!)

His mother was already worried given how she was immortal and she was already worried her son was mortal much more when she found out he would be short-lived

His father cared enough to fight his goddess wife but also to send him to Chiron, the man who was known to train the best heroes in hope that his son would get the best education but also be prepared for every terrible situation in his life

His mother dressed him up as a woman and hid him among women so that he would live

His father promised his hair to a river god in hope that he would escape his ill fate (how similar to parents who want their child to go for treatment abroad even if they know it is hopeless!)

One can say Achilles is a child ill-fated, already people overly-indulge him because of his natural talents but also his ill fate. He got his life settled for him one way or another. Built skills as spherical as possible (arguably even for his mother's charade he learnt some female roles as well!), he had the best education as a golden child (from the art of war till music and all) and exceeded in all but also he had his family always worried of him. He even had a companion by his side at all occasions to make sure nothing would happen to him. Arguably his withdrawal to Chiron in nature also shielded Achilles to remain pure from the intrigues of palaces, from actual talks of violence and war WHILE being prepared for war just in case he would need to use it!

But also if one thinks of it...

Achilles was a child of divorced parents. Thetis abandoned the already bad for her marriage with Peleus. Peleus who attacked her with accusations that she would hurt her own child, for example in Argonautica, when he saw her hold the child over the flames to make him immortal. His family loved him;

And yet his parents abandoned him one way or another in his young mind!

His mother abandoned him in Phthia when she divorced his father

His father abandoned him to Chiron to get education

Abandonment pattern became apparent in Achilles's life! Both his parents loved him he knew that very well. Both parents wanted to protect him almost to a suffocating degree. They shielded him from violence and all that could potentially bring violence such as intrigues and plans but they also prepared him for the worst all his life while his father was telling him to always aim for being noble.

Achilles learnt by them to care and love to almost an unhealthy degree. He could see people who loved him abandoned him! He was trying his best to be the golden child, the honorable one. The one who would bring pride to his noble father and his goddess mother and his god ancestors. And yet he felt people who loved him unconditionally abandoned him! No wonder he clang to Patroclus. He was the only person that would stick around; he was following him. He was his family, his friend, his companion, his squire and his everything basically. His love for him was unconditional. Achilles also probably expected that Patroclus would never abandon him; he would die after him!

Achilles was introduced to violence way too soon, way too quickly and way too definitive!

He was sent to conflict very quickly

He saw first hand how blasphemy affects humans

He witnessed a human sacrifice (or the attempt of it depending on the source)

He saw intrigue arguably for the first time in his shielded life

He caused a lot of slaughter at a bloody war that wasn't even his business

He had his honor, the one he was fighting SO HARD to maintain for it would be the only thing left of him

And finally he lost that ONE PERSON he was sure he wouldn't leave him all alone! And he lost him because of HIS DECISION to send him in his place!

No wonder how he broke down eventually. His mind which was already at a limbo state because of the expectations he felt he was carrying on his shoulders in combination to the overly protective love he received from his parents. He simply collapsed!

He committed all the atrocities one could expect a person pure as him wouldn't commit;

He wished other people harm even if he had a personal grudge against one person

He refused the heroic ideal in order to go home

He fell into an absolute emotional collapse when he lost Patroclus clasping a dead body for DAYS (miasma) and wouldn't allow anyone to bury him (technically disrespect for the dead)

He went to blind rage and killed many for the name of his lost companion

Utterly disrespected the dead by dragging Hector's body around with the aim of absolutely destroying them

Barrage of human sacrifices before or even after his death

Possibly attempt of rape of Troilus and his killing over an altar

Achilles seems to have completely broken down to every single thing his family wanted to prevent him from! It was as if all the sins he was taught to avert were introduced to him all at once and that was catastrophic for his mind and eventually Patroclus's death was the final stroke for his already fragile psychology! I feel like these ancient writers knew what psychology was before psychology was a thing because man! One can get mind-blown every single time!

Next time someone says that these ancient poems are "out of date" or that they are "not connected to our reality" please think of stuff like this! I mean how can one get more contemporary than that!?

My other analysis on Achilles: Achilles and Patroclus relationship "Devil's advocate" reasons (under a post by @justvea18) On Achilles being on the edge On silence and Achilles's expression of emotion (inspired by @deadbaguette)

To gather some more Achilles potential squad: @hermesmoly , @h0bg0blin-meat , @deadbaguette , @greeknerdsstuff , @smokey07 , @wolfythewitch , @achillesisnotcomingdown , @emmikay , @superkooku , @captnbunnie , @ri-dumb-fck , @hymnoeides , @cynicalclairvoyantcadaver , @venomspecs , @roachcicle , @mt-isnothere12 , @mythology-lover , @mythology-loving-lee , @kindred-spirit-93 , @dionysism , @margaretkart

If I forget someone forgive me please join us!!!! Also please join the profile of my friend @yararts for other type of amazing stuff!

[thezombieprostitute]

Your Champion: Introductions

Summary: Former boxing champion Steve Rogers gets a new life as a collector for the mob.

A/N: Inspired by a tag I received from @alexakeyloveloki

A/N2: Part of the Yours AU.

Warnings: Implied abuse, Violence. Please let me know if I missed any! There will be non/dub con later in the series.

"It's not what you know, it's who you know" is one of the biggest truths in Steve's life. He was in and out of trouble pretty much every day of his life until he met up with Fury. Fury got him off the streets and into the ring. He became a champion. And he couldn't be bought.

That's how he met Bucky. Bucky was an up-and-comer in a new gang that was steadily building power. He'd made a lot of money betting on Steve. He regularly bet on him when he'd learned that Steve was approached by other gangs, trying to rig the match, but had thrown them all out on their ass. Bucky respected that.

Unfortunately the representatives of those other gangs didn't care for how they were treated. Steve was ambushed, taking a major beating, and a couple bullets, that left him unable to ever fight in the ring again.

When he was healed up, Bucky offered him a job as a collector. Easy money, easy work, and he'd be taken care of. Nick liked that Steve was a man of integrity and approved the hiring. Steve was the one that took some convincing. Only after he was shown how Fowler was investing money in actually taking care of the community, that protection money actually got people protection, did he agree to the job.

Soon he learned another benefit of the job: he could punch bullies and abusers without reproach.

Which is how he met you.

Your father was a gambling addict and a thief. If you'd ever had anything of value it'd been stolen and pawned off to fuel his bad habits. Every penny you made working at the grocery store had to be spent on food and bills before he remembered it was payday. If he even thought you were holding out on him he'd fly into a rage. You couldn't afford any more hospital visits so you had to give him what he wanted.

You were making your nightly meal of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with a small yogurt, your biggest meal of the day, when the door suddenly burst in. You screamed in surprise as your father shouted and started to get out of his recliner. He'd barely gotten out of his chair before he was pushed back down by a tall blond man. You curled up into a ball, too scared to do anything.

"You owe Fowler a lot of money," the blond tells your father.

"I can pay it, I promise! I've had a lucky streak---" Your father is cut off by a backhand to the face. You whimper as you see the blood from his split lip.

At the sound the blond turns to you. "Who are you?"

You manage to stutter out your name.

"You his girl?"

"His daughter."

"You want her? Take her!" your father is quick to add. "Take her to pay off my debts!"

You don't have time to register your father's words before the blond punches him so hard the recliner falls back. You start crying out of fear, covering your eyes, wishing you could just be invisible like you were to everyone else.

The blond crouches down so he's eye level with you. He's cooing, "it's okay. You're not in trouble. You're not gonna get hurt here. He'll never lay another hand on you, I promise." He takes your hands away from your face and gets a good look at you. "You work at Pete's grocery, don't you?"

Surprised, you can only nod.

"I've seen you working there," he confirms. "You work hard. Lotta hours from what I hear." Looking around the meager apartment he looks back to you, "I'm guessing he gambles it all away?"

Again, you can only nod.

He holds out his hand to you, "I'm Steve, by the way. I'm going to make sure you never have to worry about anyone like your father ever again."

Tagging: @alicedopey; @darsynia; @delicatebarness; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @irishhappiness; @lokislady82; @ronearoundblindly; @thiquefunlover63

[fernpetals]

Precious

An extension of THIS ask

More of Yandere John Wick and his dollification-kink

Warning: Stalking, manipulation, hints of infantilization, implied restraining, implied age-gap, NSFW, John is soft but dark, tracking,dollification(obviously), a hint of corruption kink

Credit to the GIF owner.

Unedited Piece.

I kind of lost myself with this one. Note that the reader does not understand Russian in this one. So if any of my readers do, I apologise.

Precious. That is what you are to John. He sees you as precious and fragile. Especially if you are a civilian working a regular job. That is the most unfortunate of circumstances for you. Canon John is protective as such. Imagine yandere John—he is paranoid that something or someone is going to hurt you. There is a tracker somewhere in your car, and you are never going to find out. And your phone? He has the right connections—people who have your phone bugged for him.

And most probably, all this happens even before he is ‘officially’ your boyfriend. In his eyes, the proposal is simply a formality, just so that you don’t freak out. 

Once in a relationship, it all turns worse. You don't want to move in with him so soon? It has been a month! His patience is now running thin. This might even be the cause of your first major disagreement or serious fight. If you choose to ignore him after that, even for a day, you are only making it worse for you. Suddenly, your home is broken in, thrashed or suddenly, you are locked out of your own home. The lock just wouldn’t open and it’s late at night. But either way, you don’t need to fear, John is just a call away. Or just happens to have been on his way to your place, to apologise, of course.

Sadly, this is just the beginning of manipulation and gaslighting.

Once he has you under his roof, there is no going back. Isn’t it strange? Some of your bathing and beauty products are already lined up in his bathroom cabinet.

 “I bought them just in case you decided to stay for weekends. I was thinking of inviting you over.”

It is reasonable but you can see through it. Anyone can—he is trying to ease you into living with him. It’s harmless in your eyes, only if you knew how far he has gone and is willing to go.

John loves it when you put on pretty dresses—your closet is slowly filled with more and more of them. Either it is a dress he has delivered to you, or left on your bed, or he simply appears with a random dress in a bag. 

“Thought it would look lovely on you.” 

It is incredible how he gets the measurement right, even before you both get intimate. It’s like his hands have a mind of their own, mapping your form even through simple touches.

The truth is, you are all in his mind, every touch, every trace is imprinted in John’s mind. It takes him incredible self-control to not have his hands all over you. His throat dries up when he gets to touch you, even if it seems innocent, a squeeze on your shoulder, holding your hand

Expect random trips to a boutique of his choice, he makes you try on as many dresses as you want, and he wants and every time you give him a twirl, he has to remind himself that you both are in public. If he likes a dress a little too much, he will invite you to his lap.

“Aren’t you a pretty doll?” His eyes have the darkness that unsettles you, just for a moment, before you shake it off

John is a gentleman, a true gentleman. A catch really—that is what you firmly believe. At least until you move in with him and the mask begins to fall. 

Suddenly, you realise that you barely have time for yourself, your closet is filled with the dresses he likes the most and you never go out with your friends as often. In fact, it has been a while since you have gone out. You are always rushing home after work because John prefers that you do not stay out till late. When was the last time you had a night out with your friends?

But by the time you come to realise all this, it is too late, you are so deep in his lair, entangled in his web. It is not easy to keep a sane mind with the amount of times his head is buried between your legs, or his fingers or both. And let’s not talk about what a silly mess his manhood thrusting in and out of your slick folds makes you. 

Like Donaka, John too has a corruption kink. You do not know how cruel the world is, you are a precious angel in this hell on earth. He wants to protect you, he will protect you and take care of you, regardless of what you want but he also gets off at your surprised expression when he bends you to a new position while your pleasure-drunk eyes look up at him. Only he will get to see that, of course. 

What would you do without him? You are going to work? He is dropping you, soon, you will see that you do not need to work at all. He is your protector and provider. You genuinely enjoy it? Well, you can continue what you do as a hobby, what is the need to take the pains of going to work every day?

John does not understand that. As I mentioned before, he sees you as something precious and fragile, a sweet doll that belongs to a safe, cosy, soft dollhouse. He makes sure that you have enough sleep, and enough nutrients and that you do not engage in any ‘dangerous’ activity. You do not need to cook, he will happily do that. If you insist on helping, he will let you mix things up, and even stir maybe, but you are staying away from hot oils and knives.

John is also the type who loves to kiss you on the cheeks for some reason, his lips softly touching your skin has a familiar warmth enveloping his heart. Even during intimate moments, he kisses you all over, like his lips tracing your body.

It is perhaps during the passionate, intimate moments that you get to see a glimpse of carefully concealed darkness. The sweet nothings make you blush. he says things in Russian that you have no idea of-

“You are meant to be fucked stupid and sleep soft and cosy in this bedroom, aren’t you? Why even bother stepping out? I have everything here for you.”

“Aren’t you pretty like this? My precious doll, all dressed up for me.”

“You were mine since the day I laid eyes on you.”

“Should keep you here all the time, huh? It’s too dangerous outside.”

“You need me, don’t you?”

“You are mine, aren’t you? All you need is me.”

“I could have just taken you, and you wouldn’t be able to do anything…”

If you do manage to put the dots and confront him someday, he will try to manipulate you and if that doesn’t work and you still want to leave…Good luck. Besides, he will have a good laugh watching you trying to fight him. Might even be condescending and mean about it.

[ineffectualdemon]

Okay I was thinking more about bingliushen taking my kids idea that there is a fourth secondary gender called Gamma which protects their partners while they are in heat and rut and provides comfort. They are aided in protecting their partners as during their partners heats/ruts they produce a toxin in their fangs that incapacitates people. I like to imagine it knocks them unconscious for several hours

The teenagers idea is that they tend to be asexual but not exclusively so

And I was working originally with Liu Qingge and Shen Qingqiu's Gamma but what if it's the other way around?

So Liu Qingge gets hit with aphrodisiac at the succubus den and goes into heat while the succubus' flee. Shen Qingqiu is u affected by the pollen but not the heat and goes into protection mood

He scents Liu Qingge to calm him down during his heat away from his nest and bites a few people who try to get to the omega

Afterwards they do have a bond as a Gamma and Omega which means regular scenting, cuddling in a shared nest, and even when Shen Qingqiu is wandering he is always home when Liu Qingge is in preheat and through his heat protecting his space and taking care of him

Am omega without an alpha but with gamma mostly sleeps through their heat in my mind but it's like they have a high fever for it

It's similar for an alpha who has a gamma but not an omega

Also I'm going to say their bond bites go on the wrists

So when Binghe shows up Shen Qingqiu smells like Liu Qingge which just makes things worse

While Shen Qingqiu is dead Liu Qingge shows up to fight at the beginning of his preheat once and the fight gets...charged. they never speak of it again and fights don't happen when they are in rut or heat. Which works out because their cycles sync for some reason

They don't think about why

Post canon Shen Qingqiu goes back to Cang Qiong to be with Liu Qingge during his heat if he'll still have him. Liu Qingge of course does want him there.

Which is fine except it's not because Luo Binghe is also in pre rut while Liu Qingge is in pre heat.

Binghe reluctantly offers to delay his rut using his heavenly demon blood but that doesn't work because being near Liu Qingge is overwriting his attempts to delay it

Mu Qingfang is like "usually if a Gamma has and Alpha and Omega they bond with but they aren't bonded with each other the Alpha and Omega usually end up bonded. But what do I know? Anyway figure it out"

So they go home and spend a week getting ready for ruts and heats in separate rooms with Shen Qingqiu attending them both

Only Luo Binghe and Liu Qingge keeping being drawn together and find to their disgust they don't hate each other and Shen Qingqiu is grooming and scenting them both and filling the house with happy pheromones whenever they are getting close which even drives them closer together

[yuurei20]

Lilia Facts Part 93: Lilia and Baul (pt4)

The Dawn Knight is thrown into Lilia's group's path of escape and recognizes Lilia. Baul comes between them, declaring that he will handle the Dawn Knight himself, but the knight aids in their escape instead.

Having fallen behind Baul and Lilia, Sebek recognizes sparkles in the shape of an arrow as his grandfather’s magic, saying, “He has faith that we'll catch up.”

Baul saves Lilia from a Silver Owl attack as they escape together, and despite being surrounded by at least 15 soldiers he sends Lilia away to hold them off alone, saying, “It's your head and the egg they want--neither of which we can let these wretched creatures have.”

Lilia reluctantly flees and Baul fells “a giant tree” with “a single swing of his magearm” to block the soldiers’ way so that they will be forced to stand and fight him.

Baul declares, “My name is Baul Zigvolt, and I am a proud royal guardsman of Briarland! I shall swallow each and every one of you whole!,” which is also one of Sebek’s battle lines.

Silver and Sebek arrive in time to help Baul, who refuses to flee as “someone needs stop engage the enemy” to distract them from Lilia.

Sebek says that he will be remaining behind as well, telling Silver, “Protect when you hold dear! And I’ll protect what I hold dear!”

Sebek himself acknowledges that his fighting in the dream world will not change what happened in reality, but nonetheless, “there are some things I will never yield.”

Sebek wins the battle and explains to Baul, “My maternal grandfather very much disliked humans. Loathed them, even. When his only child wed a human, well...you can imagine how much they fought. Even now, my grandfather and father's relationship is strained. But despite all that...my grandfather never once shunned his grandchildren. He's a taciturn man, always scowling. He's never offered words of welcome when I visit. But he always had the latest children's books at his house. And he always kept candy and sweet drinks on hand, the kind he never consumed himself. I genuinely respect him.”

Apparently impressed Baul refers to Sebek by name instead of “human,” and refusing to refer to people politely until they earn his respect is another trait of Sebek’s, which he possibly learned from Baul.

[bronx-bomber87]

Hello amazing fandom and happy Wednesday :) Episode 3 off we go! So grateful to have my happy place back. To be able to do these first impressions. I love not knowing a single thing about this season really. Rachel being in the recap blew my mind. Like what?! Love the shock. Had zero clue she would be here this season. Let us get started.

7x03 Out of Pocket

We hit the ground running in this ep. Grey yelling at them to come to his office in front of the entire bullpen.... Lucy calling him the troublemaker we all know he is this year. heh Also he is one perpetually now thanks to you my dear. Brought out his playful side long ago. It’s been here to stay ever since. Love Tim replying it’s a fair assumption. Not fighting her on this even a little bit. It's fantastic.

Will say I love how Tim naturally jumps on the grenade for her. Old habits die hard. Or never die at all…Lucy isn’t here for it though. Still a little bristly (rightfully so.) Also I'm sure she thinks it isn't a good look that he does. Commenting she doesn’t need him to protect her. Grey is bemused by them and their flirty fight, but does have to rein them in because of course he does. LOL You can tell he’s happy they’re acting this way even if it's driving him nuts.

Tim jumps into apology mode. Not wanting to ruffle her feathers. It truly is a hair trigger response from him to shield her. He can't help it. Like breathing for him. Grey basically calling them out for their work flirt. ‘A weird itch they need to scratch’ heh I mean it is. Their version of foreplay let's be honest. Lucy seems quite embarrassed he has pointed this out.

Tim on the other hand....He is cheeky af in this dressing down of their's. ‘We didn’t put any money on it.’ With a big ole smirk on his face haha Oh my lord. No shame in the game for him. Who are you and what have you done with Tim Bradford?

Lucy is taking it seriously af. Where this goob to her left is cracking jokes and what not. Her face kills me. Like what are you doing? Do love seeing him be lighter and not so serious about everything. It’s delightful. Therapy is doing him wonders truly. Now Lucy isn’t as airy as he is but that’s ok ha

Tim you so cute apologizing and saying why he tried to protect her. Needing to defend why he did as such. That, if they were going to go down, should be him, since it was his idea after all. Lucy is much kinder outside of Grey’s office though. Saying she said yes to the whole thing. So it's just as much on her as it is him.

Do adore her jumping right back into it with wanting to finish this out. That they still have time. This way they can check each others methods. Lucy continuing the work flirt of their's. I am down. The smiles on these goobers I cannot. Lucy’s face when he walks away. My goodness you still love that man. *happy sigh * I love these idiots.

Rachel out of nowhere. Oh my lord. Do love these recalls to previous season's we're getting this year I have to say. Characters and all. Seems like they’ve kept in touch. First thing I thought was wondering about that. I had questions running through my head at her return. Like she must know Lucy dated Tim? Does she know how madly in love she was with him? (and still is...)

Sucks N.Y. chewed her up and spit her back out. Man it’s a trip to see her. From another life. Truly. S2 feels like it was eons ago. They were much different people back then. When Rachel said she hadn't contacted Lucy in 6 months....Knew that meant she didn't know of the emotional horror our girl went through.

Thus begins the digging up of wounds that have yet to heal. Detective exam and Tim..... Oooh boy. The two pillars that nearly broke her. Kinda glad for her asking about it in a way. I wanna see where Lucy truly is emotionally right now. Been having a feeling it's not great under the surface.

The fact Lucy is now trauma dumping shows she isn’t ok. Which of course she isn’t. She had a trio of trauma last season. Between detective, Tim and Tamara. The way Lucy says Tim broke up with her…. Ugh my heart. A wound that hasn’t healed for this fandom either. It's not going till until this is hashed out and reconciled.

‘Screw him. He’s an idiot right?’ *sigh* I mean a good response for Rachel though. It's what you say to a friend going through that. ‘It’s all for the best…’ Is it though? Oh my girl still wanna hug you and make you better. That has not gone away since 6x07.

Tim comes up not expecting his past to be standing there. He pulls out the Sanford Smile we haven't seen in awhile lol The one where he's clearly uncomfortable and his smile isn't reaching his eyes. You can tell he is confused and slightly unsettled. I mean they didn't end on the best terms after she started her life in N.Y. Now here she is in the station next to his girl. What a trip for him.

‘She ghosted me.' 'Yeah that’s her thing…’ We never did see what happened there. She was all in for long distance then she was gone just like that. Tim did a good job pretending he was happy to see her. The Oscar goes to you my love.

Poor Ridley is shaking in his boots. On edge waiting for a 'Tim test.' But he was prepped by Lucy in a way Tim wasn't expecting. Seth has his 'I’ve been shot answer.' right away. Too quickly really. Tim is sus af. Grilling him if Lucy warned him? It does explain why he was looking out the windshield as they were driving LOL Tim asking what else she told him?

Oh my word she recited chunks of her trauma training to Seth. Majority of her s1 ones at that. Except for the flour bomb. I’m dying. These call backs to s1-s2 are making me giddy to no end I have to say. She really dug in their archive to tell him about Wrigley. I'm laughing so hard. Tim is shaking his head so hard and I’m cackling. Playing dirty Lucy….’Ok I just have to get more inventive.’ He is not pleased LMAO Legit undermined him.

Texas instantly putting his foot in his mouth with Lucy. I was wondering if he thought be easier with Lucy. Or he thought he could charm his way into her being lenient. But he has never met Lucy Chen....Learns quickly how much that was not going to fly with her. I love Lucy putting him in his place immediately about 'darlin.’ That isn't going to stand for even a second with her. She makes sure he knows that.

The banter is PRIMO when Tim arrives. We get to see protective Tim arrive on scene again with Miles. I love it. Lucy doesn’t stop him this time. Knowing Texas needs it from both barrels if it's going to stick with him. But mainly I just love Tim immediately not having it with that shit for her. Any bravado remaining is squashed by Tim calling Penn 'Darlin' hehe

This is a mini moment that made very happy. You defend her Tim! Immediately protected his girl from Grey’s clutches about the rookies not listening. Gimme. I'll take this all damn day. That innate reaction to protect her is deeply ingrained in this man. I love it so much I could cry. Lucy once again not stopping him. Appreciative he has her back in this moment. The little things is how we inch our way back.

Poor Lucy so worried this will be another black mark against her career. Regardless of who won this is a loss for them. Adore Tim being positive with her. Saying as long as they don’t fire them, they have a chance to turn them around. Make them into good cops if given that chance. Love this. Look at Tim being the positive one. Only for his girl. Lucy looking to him for answers makes me happy. Asking what their chances really are? ‘Slim to none….’ Heh helpful babe real helpful.

It is nice to see Lucy catch up with Rachel. This is an ally we forgot she had. One that was far away in N.Y. So it's nice they get to reconnect. Not only that but be very mature about it. Especially about Tim. Celina getting a history lesson on the side is a hilarious bonus. lmao Frigging adored Rachel's 'Well yeah.' Like of course we would be friends still. Emotional maturity. Love to see it.

I love love love Rachel seeing Tim and Lucy were the better match. Rather than her and Tim. Doesn't even hesitate to bring that up in their convo. I said it many times in my s2 reviews. Forever grateful for the path she set Tim on. She was his first post divorce relationship. A Lucy 2.0 to get him ready for his soulmate.

Rachel is the fandom when she makes her comment about their break up. Trust me Rachel none of us expected the emotional devastation that was last year….it’s been 9 months and I’m still not over it tbh. Idk I'll be over it until they have reconciled. It's the gut punch none of us have really recovered from.

Lucy just breaking my heart all over again. Saying she made all these moves for them to be together. Only for it to blow up in her face. *sad sigh* You sure did.... Our boy has A LOT to make up for. That it taught her to just focus on her career. I mean I truly hoping that is the case this season for her. That we can some true clarity for her career. Nothing I want more (other than a reunion.) ‘No more messy station romances.' Sure sure mmhmm....

Those boys are LUCKY. They are trending online in a positive way or their asses would be grass. The defiance cannot be overlooked. I love Tim/Lucy standing next to each other as they back Grey. The little things I love so much. Forever in awe of insane amount of physical chemistry they have just standing next to one another.

The lack of personal space never a thing with them. It makes me happy to see it. Post 6x06 the physical distance could be FELT between them in every scene till 6x09. Felt like the Grand Canyon for awhile. So this is so nice to behold. Once again the little things that make me so happy. We're on the slow road to healing.

I wanna get into this scene and what it represents to me. I did always wonder what happened between them. After 2x20 she just fell off never to be heard from again. So this was nice to get. Tim can claim he didn't need closure but he did. This scene is an olive branch from Rachel to Tim. Just like when Isabel came back in 5x20. The return meant to be a healing one. Nothing more. Took guts for her to do this. If she wants back in Lucy's life Tim comes with that. Breakup or not. She knows this. Best to smooth this over before she can rebuild her life.

Do I find Rachel a threat? No. No I don't. Why you ask? Because this isn't 13th grade. These are grown ass adults. This isn't a H.S. or Teen drama. Just because she came back doesn't mean trouble for Chenford. Hell the woman even said Lucy was the better fit for him. One of the biggest complaints I saw last season was Lucy's support system. Someone who was in it has returned. This is a wonderful thing for Lucy. A win she so deserves. I just wanted to be the voice of reason in case anyone the fandom was worried with this scene.

That man could not be more in love with Lucy Chen if he tried. And vice versa. He is kind and courteous with Rachel. To me, mainly because post-therapy, Tim can see when someone is trying to make amends. Hell it's what he's trying to achieve everyday with Lucy. Also like to note it's not his mega watt Lucy smile. That is reserved only for his girl. But it is a 'second chance' smile. Like Lucy stated earlier in the ep. A second chance is a clean slate. This is just that if she is going to be in Lucy's life again. I'll be intrigued if she makes another appearance or not. We shall see. Every ep we are one step closer to them healing some more. I cannot wait to see what 7x04 brings.

As always. Thank you to the amazing readers I have. Your likes, comments and reblogs mean everything to me. Truly comment away I love it. As long as its respectful I adore chatting about this season as we go along. Shall see you all next week :)

~~~~

Side notes

Tim being the cold open. And breaking through Nolan's security system. I cackled so hard. Then is a sexy beast leaning against his bookcase. Pops a soda. Never wanted to be a can so much before.... ‘That’ll owe you two more Lakers tickets.’ LOL I love this man.

Poor Wes is gonna implode. Every time he hears that detectives name he shudders. Losing it a little more each time.

With the ladies saying let nature take its course with Jason. HA I'm with them. But of course Nolan being a boring boy scout won’t do it that way.

Anyone else think it’s weird Nolan doesn’t wear his wedding ring? I would hate if Tim didn’t wear his after their wedding.

Also going without backup after this guy. Like this man hasn’t learned at all from his mistakes. Do you not remember s2 you dope? Balian's reunion was as lackluster as they are. Welcome back Bailey. I did not miss you madam sorry ha

[generalluxun]

Sort of random musingbased on an ask I sent ages back about Ladybug!Nino & Black Cat!Chloe but...

OK so i think their dynamic would be kind of an interesting but familiar spin on the canonical dynamic of Ladybug & Chat, hear me out.

On a default level, Chloe does the fighting, while Nino observes and tries to puzzle out the lucky charm.

Similarly, I imagine when first going out Nino was nervous as hell about fucking up, frightened of the danger and all too aware of the burden on his shoulders. Meanwhile Chloe was more "Yes, excitement, action, a chance to show I am exceptional, direct and simple problem solving!"

But this is also where the contrasts come in.

Rather than being directly encouraging, Chloe more just kind f goes in swinging on her own and Nino may even think like "OK she seems confident, she can handle this."

But then Chloe's more destructive side causes an issue cos she like, let's say only managed to erase Ivan's arm, not the Akuma, or Ivan all together, so now she's on a timer.

Thus establishing their early issues to overcome, Chloe her recklessness with her powers and Nino his fear of taking action.

Beyond that, as said I think there'd be similarities to canon.

We know Nino can be a bit "This is my vision" about things but Chloe's not going to be as "Game for anything milady" as Chat is. Plus Nino's "Vision" is a bit more... Flexible than Marinette's, different types of artists after all, while Chloe has a more demanding and commanding presence that cannot be ignored.

In this regard I imagine them finding some degree of balance and a way to cooperate would be the lynch-pin for their first major arcs so to speak with their early ventures being rather haphazard and chaotic.

Aye that reads as a good summary of their dynamic to me. There's definitely a different LoveSquare Vibe all around though. They wouldn't have the will they/won't they nonsense.

Cat!Chloé flirts not because she's in love, but because he's cute and flirting is an expression of power.

Bug!Nino isn't resistant due to a hopeless crush, but because he can never tell if she's sincere or not(she doesn't even know) and she's a bit scary.

Civilian side they butt heads somewhat, both being friends with one side of the adrienette mess(yes it is still a mess!) They do each want what is best for their own half of that ship, but blame the other half for it failing to sail. 🤣

Nino is more outreach in this side, and Chloé overprotective of Adrien. Nino parses her fear of losing/protectiveness and tries to integrate her into the larger friend group, and in doing so develops a soft spot for her ad he peels back layers.

Chloé is more avoidance because emotional sincerity is terrifying. Classism is still in full effect but it is very obviously a sword-shaped-shield this time.

Alya and Sabrina collab to work on these two which gives us the amusing(and unique?) double-layered 'two people working together to get two people together who are working to get two people together'

That's gotta be some romcom gold.

[pinklotushere]

*throws this and runs*

Blüdhaven was used to the flips, the twirls, and the relentless quips that came with Nightwing. The acrobat in black and blue had long been the city's shadowy protector, darting from rooftop to rooftop with a grin that never quite matched the chaos he left behind.

But something had changed, and the people of Blüdhaven were starting to notice.

“Yo, remember last week when Nightwing—uh, if that’s still him—just shattered Luka’s arm? Like, no banter, no nothin’? Just crack.”

Eddie leaned back in his chair at The Last Stop Diner, his gaze fixed on the group of regulars seated at the corner booth. He wasn’t the only one with questions.

“I thought I was imagining things,” Carrie chimed in, stirring her coffee. “But I swear to God, the guy’s built like a brick wall now. You see him take down the Steel Street crew? No flips. No acrobatics. Just…straight punches.”

“Yeah, yeah!” Eddie slapped the table for emphasis. “He didn’t even bother dodging. Just ate one of their hits like it was nothin’ and decked the guy right after. I don’t think he even grunted.”

“Maybe it’s steroids?” someone suggested.

“Or a mid-life crisis,” Carrie shot back, rolling her eyes. “Dude looks fifty now, minimum.”

But speculation didn’t make sense of the facts. Gone was the lithe, nimble Nightwing who once turned gang fights into chaotic circuses.

In his place was a towering figure, six feet of raw muscle and no nonsense, fighting with the kind of technique you’d expect from a hardened boxer rather than a trapeze artist.

Even the criminals were baffled.

“Hey, Luka, how’s the arm?” Eddie called to a guy limping past the diner window.

“Shut up,” Luka snarled, holding his sling protectively. “Don’t know what that guy’s problem is, but it ain’t normal.”

The Steel Street gang had been laughing when they saw Nightwing show up last week.

“Aww, here he comes,” one of them had jeered, “with his flips and twirls!”

And then the old man had decked him.

No clever quips, no acrobatics—just a straight, brutal left hook that left the guy crumpled on the ground. The others tried to jump him, but every one of them got the same treatment. A solid punch here, an elbow there, and a particularly nasty uppercut that sent Luka to the hospital.

By the end of it, the gang wasn’t laughing anymore.

The rumors started spreading.

“You think it’s still him?”

“Gotta be. He’s wearing the suit.”

“But the guy’s, like, twice the size he used to be! And where’s all the snark? I haven’t heard him say anything in weeks.”

Whatever had happened to Nightwing, one thing was clear: Blüdhaven’s protector wasn’t playing games anymore. And the city hated it.

“I miss him,” Carrie admitted one evening, staring out at the skyline. “Like, the real him. The guy who made all this crap we deal with…bearable.”

Eddie nodded solemnly. “The flips. The jokes. The way he’d tie those gangsters up in, like, Christmas lights and leave ‘em swinging from a lamppost? Where’s that guy? Where’s our guy?”

When he came back, the city didn’t let him go quietly.

It had been months of fear, confusion, and speculation, but when Nightwing finally swung into action the way he used to—quips, flips, and all—it was like the entire city exhaled at once.

Carrie spotted him first. “No way,” she breathed, pointing to the figure perched on a rooftop, striking his usual pose.

When he leapt down, somersaulting through the air to knock out three gangsters in one motion, Eddie cheered so loud he nearly lost his voice.

The word spread like wildfire

By the time Nightwing finished his patrol, there was a small crowd waiting for him at the edge of a park.

People—actual civilians—approached him with tearful smiles, holding out fruit baskets and baked goods.

“Uh…” Nightwing hesitated as a little girl shoved a bouquet of flowers into his hands. “What is happening right now?”

“You’re back!” Carrie exclaimed, throwing her arms around him in a hug so tight he nearly dropped the flowers.

“Don’t ever leave us again,” Eddie begged, thrusting a pie into his free hand.

“Wait, what?” Nightwing blinked, completely baffled.

“You abandoned us!” an older woman scolded, shaking a finger at him. “Where were the flips? The sass? Do you know how scary you got?”

“I…uh…” he stammered, utterly lost.

The crowd parted slightly, and to Nightwing’s utter disbelief, a few familiar faces emerged from the shadows. Gang members. Former enemies. Even a couple of low-level villains.

“Yo, man,” muttered one of the Steel Street crew, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “Uh…we kinda brought you a thing.” He held up a sleek, black and blue leather jacket. The stitching was uneven, and the Nightwing symbol on the back looked like it had been traced from a comic book, but it was clearly handmade. “Figured you could use something fresh. Y’know, for the cold nights.”

“...Thanks?” Nightwing said, taking the jacket with a mix of confusion and astonishment.

Another thug shuffled forward, holding a battered book in his hands. “Here.” He thrust it at Nightwing. “It’s a joke book. You’re always crackin’ one-liners, right? Well, these might be better than what you’ve been using. No offense.”

“None taken,” Nightwing replied dryly, tucking the book under his arm.

A burly enforcer stepped up next, dragging a pair of free weights behind him. “These are for ya. You were hittin’ like a freight train last time, so, uh…might as well keep it up, right?”

A lanky member of the Steel Street crew awkwardly handed him a single boxing glove. “For when you’re really feelin’ old-school,” he joked. “Signed it for ya too, in case you wanna auction it off someday.”

Nightwing stared at the growing pile of gifts in his arms, the ridiculousness of it all threatening to overwhelm him.

“So, uh, promise you’re not gonna leave us hanging like that again?” Eddie asked, still clutching his pie.

“I…promise?” Nightwing managed, his voice tinged with disbelief as he juggled the flowers, joke book, weights, and jacket.

Somewhere in the back of the crowd, a man muttered to his wife, “You think he’s weirded out by this?”

“Probably,” she whispered back. “But it’s Nightwing. He’ll make a joke about it later.”

Nightwing, overwhelmed but smiling faintly, realized he’d never understand Blüdhaven’s people. But for once, he didn’t mind

[rainintheevening]

I mean... think about it. Who does Banquo love the best after his son? Who does he trust the most, and confide in, and tell endless stories of to his wide-eyed son? Who would be the most important person Fleance would know to run to, should anything go awry?

He's maybe 12, coming back to the palace with his father after a long ride, all pink cheeks and tired but happy, and still thrilled that his father is the closest friend of the new king, and they're staying at the palace now. He takes the torch to light their way down the path from the gate, because he always carries the torch for his father.

His father remarks there will be rain tomorrow.

And then the rush, the torch knocked from his hand and gone out, the scraping of steel as his father tries to draw his sword, and Fleance reaches for his dagger, but the shadows are hulking and his father is shouting over the attackers grunts and complaints. "Fly, fly, fly!" he cries, and the boy obeys.

He knows who to run to for help, he knows who he can trust. He knows how brave and fierce a warrior Macbeth is. So he runs, small and slim, and sure-footed even in the dark.

He does not hear the death gurgle, though his own fear chokes him, knowing his father is probably dead, hoping with the wild hope of youth that Banquo can fight, can fend them off long enough, until Macbeth should come. He doesn't know how many more attackers there might be, he can't be sure they won't come after him. So he skitters off the path, weaves through the trees, trying to remember where the side entrances are, thinking he should slip in through the kitchens. He can't trust anyone until he gets to Macbeth, until Macbeth knows. Macbeth will protect him.

So he slips and he sneaks through the dark, through the doors, taking the round-about way even if it's longer, moving fast, thinking forward, only ahead, not back, he can't think back, not now. There's a feast on, he and his father were supposed to be guests of honour at it. But now the food smells make him nauseous. He skulks through the shadows of the scullery, catching snippets of chatter from the servants: the meal is being served, the feast is gathered, the king is in the hall.

Scottish castles aren't much for decoration, not even the king's, but there's enough people coming and going for him to slip through, and he takes refuge against a chest in a corner, trying to catch his breath, trying to listen for Macbeth's voice. He thinks that voice will mean safety, will mean rescue.

He hears the murderer's rough voice first, and his heart near stops with terror. They've come after him, they'll find him, they'll kill him too. His fingers tremble as he wraps them around his dagger hilt, remembering his father's plea to avenge him. And he determines to take at least one man with him. He doesn't hear Macbeth's approach, or he may have leapt up with a wild determination to save at least Macbeth from the killers.

The first thing he hears from Macbeth is quick, anxious, so much so he's not quite sure it is Macbeth. "There's blood on thy face."

He's gone still, so still, stiller than a rabbit under the eye of a hound, he does not even blink, because the voice is right above him now, both of the voices...

"Oh, tis Banquo's then."

Father...

"Well, better you without than he within. Is he dispatched then?"

"I cut his throat myself. But the son is fled."

The son is fled, yes, the son is fled to sit by and hear his father's best and dearest companion delight in his father's murder, and wish for the son's death. The son is fled to the shadows he thought would protect him, but he sits in the shadow of death.

He doesn't blink or twitch or even breathe for what seems a long time.

When he comes back to himself, the banquet is prepared, everyone is in the feast hall, where he can hear Macbeth's voice. The kindling of rage sparks in Fleance, and he draws his dagger, rising from his shadowed corner, suddenly uncaring for his own life, when none better than Judas stands in the other room. But he looks up, and... he would speak but he cannot, for he thinks he sees his father standing there, over by the stairs, shaking his head, and there's blood all down his shirt, but he's looking at his son, and Fleance can hear the words as if in distant echo—Fly, fly, fly!

Fleance is a dutiful son, he loves his father more than anyone else in the world, he will do what his father commands. So he sheathes the dagger. He slides back into the shadows, and fancies the shadow of Banquo follows him. (They are the lights relegated to the shadows, reduced to flickers.)

In the quiet stables (grooms away to their own supper) gathering the saddle, hands slipping over his father's handsome seat, seeing Banquo's sweet grey mare nicker at him, his hands begin to shake.

In the distance the hue and cry is raised, but he does not hear, for he is weeping suddenly, stumbling to Thistledown's side to cling to her neck, before he turns away and is violently sick.

No one hears him, no one finds him.

He takes Thistledown, rather than his own pony. Somehow he cannot bear to leaver her behind, as if she might be next for Macbeth to want dead. They ride out into the night, a chill rain blowing in from the east, and covering their passage. The boy has only his plaid, his dagger, his flint, a bit of bread and a small skin of wine pillaged from a groom's things, and heart breaking under the weight of betrayal and loss and loneliness.

He does not know where to go now. He knows he can never return. He knows he will survive.

[fuji09]

Derek Hale isn't as... grown-up as you think.

Part 2 of my "[character] isn't as..." series.

Yes, Derek Hale is an adult. No matter if he is 19, 20, 21, 22, ect... Derek is an adult season 1.

However, just because he is in his early twenties, doesn't make him a grown ass adult (as some like to lovingly call him).

Due to trauma that started when he was 15, Derek does not know how to adult.

At 15 he has to kill the girl he loves, Paige, to end her suffering as she's dying.

Then soon after, Kate Argent manipulates, grooms, uses, abuses, sexually assaults, and rapes Derek, when he is 15/16.

Then Kate burns his home to the ground with his family inside, losing his entire world. Only Laura and Peter (known at the time) survived. Peter was severely burned and catatonic. Cora was assumed dead in the fire but we later find she survived too.

So now Laura and Derek are the only ones left, and they leave their only home to go across the country to run and hide from hunters.

Laura is the alpha with only Derek as pack and they run away and end up hiding in New York for 6 years. Just the two of them for 6 years. We aren't really shown what went on during those 6 year, did they party to forget their troubles? Did they hide themselves away from everybody and became hermits? Did they just start over and live normal human lives?

Derek is constantly running. He can't ever settle, can't have security or feel safe. Always looking over his shoulder, and this starts when he's 15/16.

Now Laura returns to Beacon Hills and leaves Derek behind. She is killed and Derek comes looking for her, all alone. Derek returns to the place where he lost it all to try to find his sister, the only family he had left.

He finds out Laura was killed and ripped in half. That there is now an alpha running wild in Beacon Hills. There's a newly bitten werewolf. There are also hunters. The Argents, who is Kate's family, mock Derek's lack of family left alive. Derek could have easily turned around and left. Go right back to New York and not deal with this mess. But he doesn't leave. He stays.

He tries to help the newly bitten werewolf to the best of his ability. This boy can't even take care of himself but he's still trying to help Scott.

Scott fights him along the way, the alpha keeps attacking, and Derek tries to keep Scott from being killed, found out, or hurt someone.

Derek has no clue what to do. He was never meant to be an alpha. The guy lives in his burnt out husk of house and then lives in an abandoned train station.

He's literally still stuck as that 15 year old kid who lost it all. Derek makes many mistakes, and I think part of it has to do with not knowing how to speak to people. He's very short with everyone, uses facial expressions more than words, and has a hard time understanding others.

He gets frustrated easily and then reacts by getting physical, like shoving Scott in the wall and threatening to kill him if Scott risks everything by playing in the Lacrosse game even though he doesn't have a handle on his shifting and there are hunters everywhere. Turns out to be an empty threat because Scott does play and Derek does not kill him.

Derek still acts like a kid, and I honestly believe what helped him start to grow and actually become an adult was Scott. Derek felt responsible for Scott even though he didn't bite him. Sometimes people become the adult they are supposed to be when they get a pet or have a baby. They get their shit together when someone is dependent on them. Derek took Scott on like a brother.

Their relationship is a lot like brothers. They fight and argue, they protect each other, and they help (begrudgingly) each other. They may threaten to kill each other, but then when someone is actually trying to hurt the other, they protect each other.

Derek starts to grow up when he's around Scott and Stiles. Stiles is kinda like the annoying best friend of his now younger brother, so now he has someone who can dish it and take, but also someone who can help him figure shit out.

Derek doesn't have his shit together, he's a hot mess. He's scared and angry. He definitely has PTSD, it makes sense how he reacts to things. He also deals with severe guilt, anxiety, depression, self harm, and he's basically suicidal.

He does know how to keep his strength in check though. We see Stiles shoved against a wall by several people, Scott, Erica, Theo, and Derek. But Derek is the only one who doesn't shove him too hard. Derek is the only one who doesn't hurt Stiles when he shoved him, and most of the movement we see from Stiles is him jumping from being startled.

He does hit Stiles' head on the steering wheel, which Stiles totally deserved, but it wasn't hard enough to leave a mark or do any damage, it was just enough of a warning to never do that again. He knows how to be more gentle with humans.

Derek is a martyr and I really do believe he's suicidal because he also doesn't care if he dies, even though he partly doesn't want to die. He has zero self worth and has no issue with dying if it helps someone. He literally has to prove his worth to Scott and Stiles that they need him so he is worth saving. He doesn't think he's worth saving unless he's useful to someone and he believes that everyone else thinks that way too.

Derek puts up this rough front to keep people away to protect himself from getting hurt again. He makes himself look unapproachable and mean. But he actually cares a lot. He hides as a defense mechanism.

He was taught pain makes you human and keeps you near your humanity and that it also speeds up the healing process so he ends up hurting several werewolves, Scott, Erica, Isaac, Boyd, and Jackson. Whether it's to help them heal, teach them to hold on to their humanity, or fight even harder, he teaches these things to the other betas.

Derek is so damaged and stuck. He has trust issues. He may be wealthy, but he doesn't know what to do with it. He doesn't spend it for a long time. For two seasons he's squatting, until finally season 3 he gets a loft.

Derek may be an adult, but he definitely wasn't grown up for seasons 1 and 2.

Derek gets along with the teens because he still has the teen mindset. Which causes him to not always make the best choices.

He is still is an easy target to manipulate and try to control. As we see when Peter reveals he's the alpha. In order to keep Peter away from Stiles and not get himself killed, he has to "join" Peter's side. Which by the look on his face the whole time he hates it and doesn't actually agree with Peter, but he pretends for a while. He has to stand by and watch as his uncle assaults Scott again and gives him the memories of the fire. Which side note, I think Peter did that as a jab at Scott for saying maybe the Argents has a good reason to burn the Hales. Doesn't make it right at all, but it makes sense that he would be angry about that comment.

Derek knows he's hot and he uses that to his advantage when needed, but also because he seems to think that's all he's good for when it comes to girls. He's so awkward with women in the first 2 seasons. He seems unable to actually flirt well until season 3.

He works out way more than he should, punishing his body to hurt himself. He lets himself be shot, tazed, shocked, and beaten because he feels that he deserves it. He truly thinks he's a bad person and he's not. He self sabotages at times because he gets too cocky or scared when something is actually going right.

Derek actually tries though. He keeps getting kicked while he's down. He perseveres and he fucks up. And he also learns from those mistakes and tries to be better.

You can find part 1 of my" [character] isn't as..." series here about Stiles.

Hope y'all enjoyed part 2 about Derek and I'll be back with a part 3. Can y'all guess who it will be about?

[mirrorballpages]

Nuala leaned in slightly, her voice softer now. “Trust isn’t something he gives lightly. You’ve earned it, Elain. Don’t underestimate what that means.”

After dinner, Elain wiped her hands on a dish towel, the quiet clinking of dishes and her soft humming filling the space. Nuala and Cerridwen worked beside her, their deft movements efficient as they tidied up after dinner. Everyone was back at the Townhouse, but she knew it would be short lived. They would leave again for the High Lord Meeting in two days.

They had insisted she didn’t need to help, but Elain liked having something to do. Anything to keep her hands busy, to hold back the fog of visions that still crept in when her mind was idle.

It wasn’t just the visions, though. There was always the weight of Graysen at the back of her mind. She knew Feyre was trying to shield her from the truths of what was happening beyond their walls, but Elain wasn’t naive. She knew the humans were at risk, her old life in danger of being swept away entirely. And Graysen—did he still think of her as his fiancée? Or had he already forgotten her? Was he even safe?

The thought gnawed at her as she dried another plate, humming softly to drown it out. A cool breeze stirred the air, and she felt it before she saw him: a shadow slipping into the room like a whisper.

“The bread was delicious. Thank you for making it, Elain,” Azriel said softly, his voice low and even.

She turned, startled but smiling. Her hair was piled haphazardly on her head in a crooked bun, curls spilling free. “All of the thanks goes to Nuala and Cerridwen. It would have been a disaster without them,” she replied.

Azriel inclined his head to the half-wraiths, then stepped closer, his hands brushing hers as he reached for the dishes. “Here, let me help.”

“Oh, no need,” Elain protested lightly, but he shook his head.

“No, please. I need a reprieve from Nesta and Cassian staring daggers at each other,” he said, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

“I’m glad you’re safe. That you all are safe,” she said, her tone quieter now. “Nesta was worried, and while Amren won’t admit it, I think she was too.”

Azriel’s shadows curled faintly around his shoulders, almost subdued. “Amren cares more than she will let on,” he admitted.

Elain hesitated, watching him as he methodically put away the dishes. The question was out before she could stop herself, her voice quiet but steady. “Do you ever get tired of it? Of… war? The fighting?”

The air in the room stilled. Even Nuala and Cerridwen froze, their usual chatter silenced.

He glanced at her, caught off guard by the question. He studied her face, the delicate furrow of her brow, the way her hands tightened around the dishcloth. Her eyes held a genuine curiosity—a yearning to understand something that had shaped so much of his life. He looked away, his gaze settling somewhere far beyond the walls of the townhouse. When he spoke, his voice was low, almost contemplative. “I do get tired of it. Of the blood, the death, the endless cycle of it all. But war… war is about protecting those who can’t fight for themselves. About making sure the people we care about don’t have to face it.”

Elain set the towel down, her fingers brushing the counter. “Before… this,” she said, gesturing faintly to herself, to the room, “I never really thought about it much. Graysen would talk about it sometimes—his life was built around it, protecting themselves from… fae.” Her voice wavered on the word, as though it didn’t quite belong to her.

“But it was also something he tried to hide from me. The reality of what it meant,” she added, her voice soft.

Azriel turned back to her, his hazel eyes thoughtful. But before he could reply, Cassian’s booming voice echoed from the hall. “Az, stop hiding in the kitchen. We need you.”

Azriel’s lips quirked in faint amusement as he straightened. He nodded to Elain before stepping away but paused in the doorway. His gaze met hers, steady and warm.

“If I can help create even a moment of peace, if I can keep one person safe…” His voice softened. “Then all of this is worth it.”

Read The Rest on AO3

[duhshereadz]

A collection of random angsty head cannons I have:

Jinx:

1. **Catlike Sleep**: Jinx can’t sleep deeply in beds. She curls up in random places like on top of shelves, under tables, or wedged into corners, feeling safer when she’s hidden away. Her sleep is fitful and light, as if she’s always waiting for something to go wrong.

2. **Toy Soldier Graveyard**: She keeps a box of broken inventions—bombs that didn’t detonate, scrap toys she made as Powder, and even the remains of her childhood monkey bomb. Sometimes she talks to the pieces like they’re old friends, asking them why they failed her.

3. **Ink Therapy**: Jinx tattoos herself every time she feels like she’s survived something traumatic. Her chaotic body art tells a story only she understands, each piece representing her victories, losses, and guilt.

Vi:

1. **Old Gloves**: Vi secretly still has the tattered gloves Vander gave her when she first started fighting. They’re too small for her now, but she keeps them tucked in her pocket during missions, like a lucky charm. She’s terrified they’ll wear away entirely one day.

2. **Loner Nights**: Vi sneaks out at night and wanders Zaun, sitting in quiet alleyways just to feel connected to her past. She sometimes leaves small tokens—flowers, coins, scraps of metal—for the ghosts of Vander, Mylo, and Claggor.

3. **Scar Stories**: Every scar on her body has a story, and she remembers each one. Sometimes, when she can’t sleep, she traces them with her fingers, recounting every fight, every failure, every moment she wasn’t strong enough to protect someone she loved.

Caitlyn:

1. **Sniper Rituals**: Before using her rifle, Caitlyn has a strange ritual where she whispers a silent apology to her targets. She doesn’t know why she does it—she just hates the idea of taking a life, even when it’s necessary.

2. **Tea for Two**: After particularly bad days, Caitlyn sets out two cups of tea in her room—one for herself, and one for a person she wishes she could talk to, whether it’s her father, her mother, or even Vi when she’s not around. She rarely drinks from the second cup.

3. **Trophy Room**: She has a secret drawer in her room filled with small tokens from cases she’s solved: a piece of fabric, a photo, a bullet casing. She uses them to remind herself why she fights for justice, but sometimes they just remind her of the people she couldn’t save.

Ekko:

1. **Clockwork Comfort**: When Ekko feels overwhelmed, he builds tiny mechanical birds and insects, winding them up and watching them flutter around his room. It’s his way of reminding himself that he can create life instead of just fighting against death.

2. **Grief Journal**: Ekko keeps a notebook where he writes letters to the friends he’s lost. Each entry starts with their name and a memory of something happy they shared, but by the end, he’s usually crying, scribbling apologies for not being able to save them.

3. **Old Music Box**: He has a broken music box from his childhood that he refuses to fix. It belonged to someone important—maybe his mother or a close friend—and though it no longer works, he listens to the silence as if it still plays their favorite song.

Jayce:

1. **Blueprint Guilt**: Jayce has a hidden vault of failed inventions that never worked as intended. Each one represents a moment where he feels like he let Piltover down. Sometimes he dreams of these blueprints exploding, the fragments injuring everyone around him.

2. **Crumpled Speeches**: Jayce writes letters to Viktor, confessing his regrets and insecurities about how their partnership fractured. He never delivers them, leaving them crumpled up in his desk drawer, afraid that nothing he says will fix what’s broken.

3. **Forge Visits**: Late at night, Jayce visits old smithing forges in Piltover. The hammering of metal on anvils calms him, a reminder of simpler times when all he had to worry about was crafting weapons, not leading a nation.

Viktor:

1. **Silence of the Undercity**: Viktor dreams of the Undercity, but it’s always eerily quiet—no voices, no machinery, just him wandering through empty streets. He wakes up sweating, unsure whether he’s relieved or sad that it was only a dream.

2. **Hidden Garden**: Viktor secretly tends to a tiny plant in his lab, hidden behind stacks of books and equipment. It’s the only living thing he cares for outside of himself, and he fears that if it dies, it’s a sign that he’s lost touch with his humanity.

3. **Staring at the Stars**: When Viktor feels the weight of his mortality, he goes to the highest point in Piltover and stares at the stars. He wonders if he’ll ever leave a mark on the world big enough to be remembered—or if he’ll just fade away like the stars in the morning.

Sevika:

1. **Cracked Mirror**: Sevika has an old cracked mirror in her room, one she refuses to replace. She hates looking at herself, especially the scars and the mechanical arm, but she forces herself to stare into it every morning as a twisted form of penance.

2. **Family Photo**: She carries a faded photo of her family—parents and siblings she hasn’t seen in years—tucked in the lining of her jacket. It’s the only thing from her past she hasn’t burned, but she doesn’t let anyone see it.

3. **Card Games Alone**: Sevika sometimes plays cards by herself, recreating the games she used to play with her gangmates. She cheats against herself, muttering curses and laughing bitterly, pretending they’re still around to play with her.

[dimlylittorch]

18+ drabble MDNI

My Masterlist🌱

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x emotional!chubby!pre-op!transmasc!reader

small synopsis: accidental meeting, hurt/comfort, smut (use of clit, cunt, etc)

Bumping into Ghost randomly on the street, he gets annoyed and glares down at you, you immediately react after having a horrible day by darting into an alleyway with tears in your eyes. He unknowingly just stumbled upon an emotional little bunny with no one to protect him. You who is lonely, touch starved, and cannot handle any rejection or negative feelings coming your way.

As soon as he looked down and saw how tears welled up in your eyes, his gaze softened and followed you as you scurried off into some dark alleyway that probably wasn’t the safest for a little thing like you. He knew he probably looked big and scary and mean, but he couldn’t help himself. He had to follow the sweet little thing whose day he very clearly just ruined.

He finds you in the alleyway with your face in your hands, trying your best to stop your tears. Digging your palms into your eyes, breathing heavily as you try to calm yourself. He watches from a few feet away, his mind riddled with guilt. What kind of asshole makes a little bunny like you cry? He walks over silently, standing right in front of you and waiting for you to say something.

When you see his boots on the ground in front of you, your tears slow slightly, but not enough to gather yourself. “I-I’m sorry” you choke out between sobs. “I didn’t m-mean to.” He sighs when he sees how tears are soaking your shirt slightly, and how you were shaking like a leaf in front of him. He wasn’t good at comforting people- he never had been. But there were a few things he was good at. He knew how to fight, kill, and fuck.

You didn’t know how to react when he gently leaned forward, cupping your chin with his large hand, his thumb stroking over your skin. “Don’t cry” he said quietly in his gravely voice. “I’ll fix it. Jus’.. no more cryin’.” He murmured softly, his hands reaching your torso, gently kneading your soft flesh through your shirt. You tense, a small gasp leaving you at his touch. “little birds cry when they’re wound up too tight” he says softly as he leans to speak against the shell of your ear. “let an old dog help ya’.”

A few moments later he had one arm against the brick wall of the alleyway in front of your face, ensuring you wouldn’t hit the brick while his other hand was down your pants, thick fingers circling your little clit. “such a good boy” he says against the skin of your neck where his face was currently buried. Every touch to your little bud made you arch closer into his chest, heavy breaths leaving the both of you while he occasionally checked to make sure no strangers were getting a free show. Even if they were, he couldn’t blame them. A soft little thing like you being manhandled? It turned him on too.

You can feel his bulge pressing against the curve of your ass, pushing back against it whenever you get the chance. His fingers shift lower, teasing at your tight entrance while he manages to get his mask up slightly, pressing small kisses to your neck. “f-fuck-“ you gasp out, wanting to moan his name but he never even told you. When the tip of his thick finger sinks inside of your boycunt he groans, shifting his thumb to still knead at your puffy clit.

“Yer so warm down ‘ere” he groans against your skin, sniffing in your scent as his face rests against your neck. “fuckin’ hell, yer tight..” he murmurs as he sinks in a second finger. “no wonder yer crying so easy.. hell, i’d cry too if I were this pen’ up.” He mutters against your skin.

You can’t help but choke out weak moans while his fingers explore your cunt, rubbing along every bump and ridge he could find, doing whatever he could to find that perfect little spot that would make you sing. With one hand over your mouth to keep you quiet, your other one reaches up to wrap around his thick arm, craving some kind of skin to skin contact. “s-sir-“ you whine weakly when his thumb presses hard against your clit.

He groans loudly when you call him that, picking up the pace as his erection grinds up against your ass. “christ, yer a good boy.. lettin’ me take care of ya’.” He mutters when suddenly, you cry out against your hand, eyes tightening shut with embarrassment. He immediately smirks, rubbing the pads of his fingers over that little spot he just found. “there he is..” he says proudly as he presses against your g-spot.

Within no time you’re completely soaking his hand, clear fluids dripping down his fingers and coating his hand. He groans when he feels how tightly you were clenching around his fingers, but he can’t stop himself from rubbing even quicker over that soft little spot inside of you, all the while his thumb teases your clit. “shit- oh shit” you whine, the sound barely muffled by your hand.

Simon quickly looks to see if anyone is around, and when he knows the coast is clear he starts to hump against your ass while his fingers move quicker. “Come on- fuck yeah” he huffs when he feels a rush of fluid spill onto his hand, and he hears a sharp cry from you. While he carries out your high he moans weakly against your ear as his hips start to stutter against your ass. After a few moments he groans against your ear, letting his head collapse onto your shoulder.

As he lets himself fall against the brick wall, he shifts one hand to wrap around your waist, keeping you from escaping his grasp. The other slowly slips out of your wet pussy, moving up to his lips and pressing inside as he groans from the taste. Your cheeks heat up from embarrassment, keeping your head downcast. “Ya taste like a dream” he mutters as he looks down at you. “Feel better?”

You hesitate for a moment before nodding slightly. You really did feel better. “..thank you.” You whisper shyly, making him chuckle.

Wiping his hand off on his jeans, he spins you around so your back is to the wall. He can’t help but lean down and press a gentle kiss to your lips, stealing away any breath you had. When he pulls away, he looks over your body. “Yer probably all sticky now, eh?” He grumbles. When you nod shyly, he places a small kiss to your cheek before sinking down onto his knees, pulling your pants down your thighs. “Don’ worry. Big boys know how ta’ clean up their messes.”

hey guys !! Sorry I haven’t been super active lately. I started school last week so I’m more busy than usual. hopefully I’ll have a longer fic out for you guys soon ! :D

[victoryarchive]

Ok. I’ll bite. Hermit! Tommy? Because that looks an awful lot like a really cool Watcher au something? Please share!

Omg if you insist lmao

Buckle up this is gonna be a lot.

This all started when I was thinking about Greek mythology (a common occurrence I fear) and I was thinking how even though Helios is the sun and the god of the sun many people these days assign that role to Apollo (the god of light). And that got me thinking more and more about how as time progresses stories change and gods become gods of things they never were before. New gods exist. Old ones are completely forgotten. Their names change. Look at Roman mythology for a great example of this.

And because I’m one hell of a nerd this immediately translated to ‘how can I use this in fan fiction’

Another thing you must know about me is I hate to fall back on Minecraft mechanics, it feels lazy for me to do it (it’s fine to read I just hate writing it) and must always find a way to make things like respawn and different worlds fit into the lore of the story.

Thus began the world building:

Every watcher is a god of something, Xelqua/Grian: the sun, Pearl: the moon, Kristin: The underworld, XD: [redacted], etc. Each watcher has the ability to create a world (or multiple depending on their power) for their people to live (Grian: hermitcraft, Pearl: Empires, Kristin: the Antarctic Empire, XD: the DSMP, etc) Within these worlds it is very common practice for the Watchers to choose a devoted follower to give a small portion of their power to oversee their world, to make rules and keep everyone safe, an Admin. (Grian: Xisuma, Pearl: fWhip, Kristin: Philza, XD: Dream, etc.)

Now none of these watchers just spawned as watchers, no they became watchers through people worshipping them and writing stories about them as gods. These stories held power so the person held power and became essentially immortal and can do pretty much anything with that power, at least until they are forgotten.

So far the story begins with Xelqua brining his players back from their silly death game and being intercepted by a very very old goddess, one who had almost been completely forgotten. This primordial goddess is peace, not just the goddess of peace, she is peace. She is called Prime. She asks Grian and Xisuma to take her last worshipper and devotee, Tommy, and protect him from another Watcher. And with a little bit of convincing Grian’s like ‘yeah fine ig I’ll take the kid. How difficult can one child be.’

Now that’s as far as I’ve written aside from the beginning backstory stuff, but I’ve got a lot of stuff planned, including an entire few chapters inspired by ‘god games’ from epic the musical, where Grian has to go fight for some mortals life. One of them. I know which one. Yall don’t :)

There’s also a lot of Grian and Pearl back story from when they were kids and still mortal like thousands and thousands of years ago and how they eventually became literal gods.

Tommy learns how friends are supposed to work and gets mentored by none other than Mumbo Jumbo, or Impulse i haven’t decided yet. The only thing I know about Minecraft is redstone so he’s learning redstone.

Also it would be a damn shame for me to not include False and Tommy flying together a bunch bc they’re the only to avians that can match each others speed.

There’s some stuff going on with techno being an admin on an anarchy server. He comes in later in an absolute rage.

Also Joel is a demigod… it makes sense I swear.

I’m having a lot of fun playing around with the world building and each individual characters back story so I will expand on anything if people ask about it :))))

Thank you for asking this has been fun

[shadamyheadcanons]

Hi there, hope you're doing ok! I was wonder what are your headcanons for future!Shadamy when they are together and growing old. What are their jobs? Shadow is still at G.U.N.?Where do they live? How do their dynamic evolve as Amy ages physically (and they both age mentally obviously)?

For jobs, they’ve got options. I’ve written Amy as a florist in headcanon 29, a baker in headcanons 15 and 176, and a kindergarten teacher in headcanon 254. Florist and baker both jive with canon. She’s been shown to like flowers, and it’s natural to put a Rose in a garden.

Top, wallpaper on Sonic Channel Bottom, Sonic Pict May 2021 on Sonic Channel

For baking, there’s official art of her making baked goods, and she says in a Sonic Station LIVE vtuber special that she’s apprenticing at a cake shop.

Sonic Pict February 2020 on Sonic Channel

[link]

The kindergarten teacher angle works for me because she works well with kids. She’s not a Mom Friend, but she has a strong nurturing side:

Whatever she does to pay the bills, I think it’s important that she has a way of giving back and helping others. I could see her actively doing volunteer work. Frontiers has a detail I really like where she apparently goes back to check on places that have been impacted by Eggman’s destruction:

“Yep, but...I’ve seen this kind of recovery in areas Dr. Eggman damaged. Something ruined this land, and it’s barely begun to recover.”

She was always a helper even when she needed help more than anyone. I don’t think she could feel completely happy if she didn’t have the chance to give back in some way. It’s not enough for her just to whack a villain with a hammer and leave.

Shadow and Amy have significant overlap in this regard and could very believably be coworkers. He likes flowers just like she does; there’s been a lot of buzz about this lately, but for those who haven’t seen, they have a very extensive line of matching cherry blossom memorabilia, just for the two of them. Calendars. Bags. Hats. Thermoses. Shirts. It lines up nicely with the idea of Shadow calling Amy “Rose” as a term of endearment, which I’ve always liked. His fondness for flowers is “canon,” and by “canon,” I mean it’s in Lego Dimensions. When it comes to outside canon, I pick and choose what to count for my headcanons based on how in-character the event feels, and Shadow feels very in-character in that game, funnily enough. Lego gets it right.

Regardless of whether it’s a job, I love the idea of Shadow gardening because he’s very much a “protector,” and I think looking after smaller things would do him a world of good. It’s tangible, manageable, and rewarding in a way that protecting the entire world usually isn’t. That’s why I had him adopt Rosie. In headcanon 134, I wrote Shadow volunteering at a Chao shelter and inviting Amy to join him, and he became a guidance counselor in that headcanon above about Amy being a kindergarten teacher.

Sega seems to want us to believe Shadow and G.U.N. are on good terms. I don’t buy it. The only way I can see him happily working with them is if someone like Rouge gets put in charge and does some serious work to turn them around, like in headcanon 280. Even then, I wouldn’t say it’s ideal; I don’t want Shadow to have to fight his whole life. I can’t see him giving up fighting entirely to become a pacifist, but there’s more than one way to help the people of Earth, and he deserves peace, preferably with his friends and a delightful pink hedgehog by his side. And speaking of Amy’s motherly tendencies and Shadow feeling fulfilled by looking after little ones, I want them to have a couple kids, too. She canonically wants kids...

[Weird scene from Sonic X. Can’t believe there’s an honest-to-goodness typo in this finished game]

...and once most of the fighting is over, I think Shadow would crave some sort of focus and center in his life. Fatherhood could do that for him.

Silver has to come from somewhere, after all.

I like to put them in a cottage by the edge of the woods—far enough to enjoy nature and have peace and quiet when necessary, but close enough to the city to visit their friends. Big probably lives nearby.

As for growth and aging, most of it makes me sad. One-sided immortality can do that, especially for someone who experiences emotions as strongly as Shadow does. Check out headcanons 255, 238, 101, and 83 if you want to feel sad. Headcanon 286 is bittersweet. Headcanon 273 is nice and cute, though.

I hope you like links. Thanks for the question!