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messyyythoughts · 2 years

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chaos walking , part 3.

star wars: the bad batch x female chaos magic user

summary: after your first adventure with Clone Force 99, Kenobi needs your help. the Bad Batch step in to help when it’s clear you’ve pushed yourself too far this time. warnings: descriptions of physical injury, reader in pain as per usual tbh mando’a translations (http://mandoa.org/) jaro - death wish, insane act of reckless stupidity mesh’la - beautiful

part 1 part 2

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。..·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

“Kenobi, do you particularly need this damned cruiser?” You asked with a tight voice. The strain of trying to slow down an entire Republic cruiser starting to crush your body, and you knew you wouldn’t hold out much longer. You’d been called in by Kenobi to help save this cruiser from imminent destruction, and when one of the engines gave out, you took a hold of the entire ship, trying to help the pilots steer it. It hadn’t worked, and you’d ordered Kenobi and any non-essential personnel off the cruiser as you tried to save it. Right now, it wasn’t working, but you were still determined to try. The only thing that was driving you was the fact that there were still men on this cruiser who needed to evacuate before the whole thing crashed and burned at your hands. If you felt any of those connections go out, you’d never forget it.

“Well... yes, I do.” He replied, his voice tense. You could tell he was absolutely overwhelmed on his end. With a final moment of peace, you replied.

“I’m not making any promises. Evacuate the rest of this cruiser, give me a space to land on that planet.” His immediate protests came over the comms, you ignored them. He didn’t want you to do this on his own, but there was no other way. His voice was drowned out by the groaning and shaking of the cruiser. How you were managing to hold this weight… you didn’t even want to think about it. You’d be sick if anything other than the mission on hand came to mind. You didn’t even want to think about what the recovery was going to be like for this one, all you knew is that it was going to be grisly. You felt the evacuation pods leave the cruiser, and then concentrated all of your energy left into altering the path this cruiser was about to take in order to reach the nearest planet.

You went down to one knee, letting out a grunt as another wave of hot sweat and strong nausea overtook your body. Your hands were cramping up already, but you flexed them and the feeling subsided slightly. You attacked once more, putting everything you had into changing the path of the cruiser. You were fighting against gravity and physics and it was killing you. Every tiny movement, from an intake of breath to a shift of your knee, was putting you into agony for longer and longer. There was blood running down your face from your nose and mouth, you wiped it away clumsily, only to smear it across yourself. You had never attempted anything like this, you weren’t really sure if you could do it. If you managed to pull this off, you’d go down in the history books, if not, you’d lose an entire Republic cruiser and your life in the process. There was no mistaking it, you simply had to win.

There was a noise coming from behind you, something repetitive and vague. You focused in, trying to get your senses to cooperate. Everything was becoming blurred and hard to understand the longer you exerted yourself. Finally, you heard it. “Come in!” It was Hunter’s voice from behind you. Your head whipped to follow the sound, and you felt a burning sensation down your neck, and spine. “Damn it, will you say something?!” You stumbled over to the comms and used one shaking finger to hit the button. “Hunter?” You asked, with barely enough breath to speak. “What are you doing? There’s no possible way you can save that cruiser.” Tech butted in, you could practically hear him elbowing Hunter out of the way.

“I can do it,” You sputtered, “trust me.” Blood spilled from your mouth and you coughed, near to vomiting blood.

“We’re on our way to the ship, hold her steady for us.” Hunter said with a hard tone, meaning it was final. You’d learned that after your first mission with the Bad Batch, and they’d learned plenty of things about you too. It had been a whirlwind experience, but you felt like you’d do it again tomorrow if they asked you.

“No! You’ll die—” You started, but you were cut off by Wrecker’s voice.

“No, we’re coming to help. We’ll be there before you know it.” Your head slumped forward onto the desk and your powers went out like a light, before you quickly gained a hold of them and pulled the cruiser back on course for a crash landing. You had to crawl back to the bridge to get a central hold of the cruiser and feel the balance set back in. Your magic came back, and you had a steady hold on the cruiser once again. You took deep steadying breaths to align yourself, before closing your eyes and visualising the path to the planet as clearly as you could.

It was then that you felt a ship land on the cruiser, and you realised that they were here. Images flashed through your head of them, and you tried to not let it distract you. A glimpse of the future was not what you needed right now. What could only be called relief flooded through you, and you felt that nausea subside as four pairs of footsteps came rushing to you. What felt like hours of waiting had really only been five minutes before they burst onto the bridge. Tech made a beeline for the front control consoles and started pressing buttons and reading screens, as Crosshair and Hunter followed. Wrecker stood by your side, like a statue.

“Wrecker, I need you to get behind me and support my arms, it’s gonna be a lot, but you can do it.” You wheezed, as Wrecker knelt behind you and put your arms on top of his massive ones. You rested all of your weight on him, and he took it like a champ. “Maker, thank you.” You sighed in relief, almost brought to tears. Tech had the controls working together and the ship’s engines worked double time to steer towards the planet.

“I need to check your vitals, you’re bleeding enough to fill a bathtub.” Hunter broke off from Tech and Crosshair, putting his hands to your pulse on your neck and wrist. He was directly touching the chaos magic that was surrounding your hands, and didn’t flinch or pull away. He took your pulse, then started to wipe the blood from your face. “Her pulse and temp is sky high, we need to land this cruiser sooner rather than later, Tech.” Hunter called out. “You try steering a Republic cruiser that has one dead engine!” Tech retorted, meaning well, but coming off as heavily sarcastic, as always.

“I’m fine, just help me out will you?” You cried out, nearly collapsing onto Wrecker, but he stayed steady behind you like a foundation of a good house. Tech and Cross went haywire on the controls, setting them to this and that. The ship’s comms were suddenly alive with chatter, as the clones stationed on the planet were giving advice to Hunter on how to navigate the atmosphere and complete the crash landing. As Hunter relayed the information to Tech and Crosshair, Wrecker took on every bit of weight that you were dumping on him. It was a tense few minutes of loud noises, shouting orders and blood running until you broke the atmosphere. The cruiser started to shake and rumble as it broke the planet’s atmosphere, sending everyone on the bridge tumbling about with nothing to hold onto. You felt Wrecker grab onto a nearby console to hold your position, and you strained to stay in place. Your body temperature was getting higher and higher, you momentarily thought about making your clothes disintegrate, but then decided against it. You started to slow the descent of the cruiser by pulling back on it with all of your magic, your hands almost cramping into place with the force you were exerting. Chaos magic was spilling from your hands as bright as the stars, and had completely enclosed the cruiser, taking over all directional control of it. Wrecker’s massive hands carefully moved into place behind yours, and he held on, despite the rampant chaos magic coming from yours. You were holding back the most unhinged scream as the cruiser finally made contact with the planet’s surface, sending a reeling shockwave through you. You didn’t falter once as the planet’s debris flew up and collided with the cruiser, in fact it actually helped to slow the crash. The lights went out, leaving you in the dark, but you kept going with only the light from your hands to guide you now. You pulled and pulled until you were sure the cruiser was at a slow enough speed that it wouldn’t move on its own anymore. The screeching sound stopped, and it was replaced by a stark silence. Nobody moved. Your hands stayed in place, now totally still but empty of magic. Each member of the Bad Batch turned to look at you, no words at the ready, just a variation of stares. Kenobi’s voice came over the comms. You got up, every single inch of you about ready to implode, and pressed the button to answer.

“One cruiser, slightly used, but still in good condition.” You heard his chuckle in reply and smiled, blood dripping from your mouth. “You are never doing that again, I didn’t even ask you to save it!” Kenobi attempted to tell you off, but you shook your head, knowing that there was no way he could punish you for this one.

“Kiss my ass, General Kenobi, I’ll see you when you get down here.” You then let your head roll backwards and gave your body the signal to shut off for the recovery. Wrecker caught you, holding you to him in his arms, which hurt like nothing else from being in contact with your magic. Hunter’s hands also hurt, as if they’d been burned, but there was no damage done to them. You weren’t trying to actively harm either of them, so they’d escaped with minimal injury. Sometimes you had control over the magic, and it seemed like you had won today in more than one respect. .·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。..·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。. The Bad Batch loyally guarded and stubbornly stayed by your bedside for weeks. You’d fallen into a coma, of your own doing, and this wasn’t the first time either. It had happened on a few rare occasions before, as witnessed by both Kenobi and Skywalker, but they’d never seen you in such a bad way this time. Each of them came to visit, both having to convince the Bad Batch that they knew you and meant no harm, which proved more difficult than they expected. Being Generals of the Republic’s army meant nothing to the Bad Batch, as it so happened. Kenobi was stopped at the door for being the one who ordered you to save the cruiser, even though you’d done it of your own accord, and once he had explained this he was allowed entry. He dutifully brushed out your hair as you lay there asleep, and braided it slowly to make sure there were no knots or tangles. The Bad Batch watched him with a veiled interest, Tech especially, as he had never seen you wear your hair like this before. Kenobi updated you on all of the clone battalions that he knew of, some were stationed too far away to receive any real updates on, so he promised to check on them for you when he had a spare moment. After Kenobi had sorted out your hair, he washed your face and neck with a cloth and warm water. He made sure to get every spot, gentle as ever, talking to you the entire time. He knew that you could sense his energy nearby, and that you’d be thankful he’d been there when you finally awoke. He then told the lingering Bad Batch that after your first coma, you’d awoken in fits of screams and delirium, claiming that no one had sat with you and talked to you the whole time you were out. It was true, apart from the odd visit from Skywalker who’d been the closest one to you when it happened. Kenobi and Ahsoka had been too far away to come and visit, but they were just as horrified when they heard the news through Skywalker. So, from that moment, the Bad Batch had one of them sat by your side. Tech made a habit of reading out his notes to you from when he’d studied you, and once he got through those, he moved onto hefty textbooks of theories and hard science. It bored the others to sleep without fail each time, but inside you were clinging onto Tech’s voice like it was a rope and you were dangling above a dark pit. Even though you would never fully understand what he was saying, it made you feel like you weren’t totally alone. When it was Hunter’s turn to sit next to you, he took to drawing on your arms and palms. He used a washable ink pen and would decorate your exposed skin with whatever was in his head at the time, he’d even talk you through the meanings of the drawings, no matter how nonsensical it sounded. He always made sure to put the names of the Bad Batch in there somewhere, and yours. It was often the medical droid’s job to wash the ink away after Hunter had been sat by your side all day. Wrecker liked telling you his favourite stories of battle, and he had a new one each time he sat by you for the day. Some of them were so outlandish that even Tech questioned him sometimes, but you were enjoying the stories regardless. Wrecker was a great storyteller, using his tone and strange sound effects to bring the story to life for you. He knew exactly how to create tension and suspension by waiting a few seconds before telling the climax of the story, or a twist to the plot. Crosshair always criticised Wrecker’s stories for being inaccurate to the truth, but you didn’t care. When Crosshair sat next to you, however, he struggled to do so much... talking. He tried reading something out once, but it sounded bad, and he stopped abruptly. He found something else to do instead, he would draw out battle plans on your arm with his fingers. He could see it all in his head, it just needed finalising on your forearm or the palm of your hand. He’d explain some parts to you before grumbling and starting over again because he wanted to try something else. He even used little paper clones once to really simulate the battle for you on your arm and hand, which made the others smirk, but Crosshair paid them no attention. Skywalker’s visit had been a tense one. He nearly scrapped on the spot with Crosshair trying to gain entry to your room, but Hunter let him through. When he saw you, his face went icy, and he took a seat next to you. The words he spoke were too low for anyone but Hunter to hear, but he chose to ignore them when he got the idea of what Skywalker was saying. Skywalker stayed there for a while, holding your hand in his, eyes closed. An eerie quiet had settled in your room, and the Bad Batch soon found themselves finding excuses to leave. They didn’t go far, only down the hallway, but whatever mood Skywalker was in, they did not feel like tussling with him right now. Kenobi had been somber, but respectful, Skywalker was fuming and looking for a reason to fight. Someone needed to get him back out to the battlefield soon otherwise he’d start going for his own men. But, after an hour or so, he up and left your room without a word to the Bad Batch. They came back in to see you unmoved, asleep just as you had been when they left you. Now, they just had to pass the time until you woke up. .·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。..·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。. “That woman has a jaro, I’m telling you.” Hunter said with a shake of his head. The Bad Batch had been discussing your other greatest feats, and Tech was readily compiling a list for further debate. “Who just decides to stop a cruiser like that?” Hunter carried on, “no one but her.” He scoffed. Crosshair watched the conversation in silent interest, having already found a new respect for you after witnessing you successfully crash land the cruiser. “I think the cruiser is my favourite one, I helped with that one.” Wrecker announced from your bedside, having paused his wild story to give his opinion. “Wrecker, your personal involvement does not contribute to the greatness of the feat.” Tech sighed, tapping away at his pad. Wrecker shrugged before continuing his story. Crosshair was about to interject when the ship’s internal alarms started going off, signalling that the enemy was approaching. A rush of footsteps from the clones going to their stations went past, and then a rumble went throughout the ship. They’d been hit. “We need to get her ready to move if this ship goes down.” Hunter shot out of his seat, only to find that your eyes were opening, and you were sitting up in your bed. “Maker above...” “Are we seriously getting attacked right now?” You sighed, getting out of bed and heading for the door with renewed energy. They all watched on in absolute disbelief, before scrambling out of the door to follow you. You moved fast at full health, they had to jog to keep up. You reached the bridge, being greeted with applause, which you quickly silenced with a single finger to your lips. “I can’t be in a coma for more than a few weeks and we’re getting bombed by the enemy? Really, guys?” You shook your head. Your messy braid was coming undone where none of the Bad Batch had dared to take it out after Kenobi had so carefully done it. “Give me a visual someone.” You called out, body positively thrumming with the need to get out there and rip some people apart. “Uh, excuse us,” Tech pushed past the crowd of clones on the bridge, and tapped you on the shoulder, “are you quite alright?” You nodded with a wink. The clones had identified the oncoming enemy pilots for you. With little more than a bent finger and a wisp of chaos, you sent the ships tumbling through space into balls of flame, veering off course and missing their shots entirely. You got a rush from this, no matter how many times you did it, because the clones around you were safe and you were taking out the very thing that would kill them. “Mesh’la...” Wrecker said behind you, as he watched the firework display of ships exploding and plummeting to their demise. You didn’t even need both hands, just one finger. The first wave had been entirely demolished, and the second wave was already retreating, much to your disappointment. Maybe you went too hard on the first ones, scared them off. It wouldn’t be the first time. You lowered your finger, smiling in satisfaction as the clones cheered. Nothing made you happier than seeing them alive, and winning. You turned to leave, and when Hunter asked where you were going now, you told him that unless the new uniform was a hospital gown, you were getting a change of clothes. .·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。..·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。. messyyythoughts © 2022 do not translate without my permission, give credit if you repost, support always welcomed <3

#messyyythoughts #injury detail #description of injury #chaos magic #chaos magic reader #female!reader #chaos witch #chaos walking #chaosmagicuser!reader #chaoswitch!reader

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cieric-of-chaos · 18 days

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I feel like the Scarlet Witch fandom is dying; it's not the same anymore. Please, I want to go back to 2020 to early 2023. I need more people talking about Wanda. I need more Wanda edits. I need more of us talking about Wanda like she's our wild pet hamster. I miss when normal posts about Wanda get more than 100 notes, not just smut fics. I want to see different content every time I look at the Scarlet Witch tags. I wish everyone in this fandom acted like every other fandom. Please put her in a jar and shake her...Put her in a microwave and watch her spin. God, I miss her so much. I feel like a child whose mother never returns home. I miss my angry, pathetic woman. She's such a wet cat. She's so horrible. I love her so much. She has so much potential. I hate you, Kevin Feige and Michael Waldron. All of you can disagree with me all you want, but she's literally the most interesting M*rv*l character. I am literally so scared of being completely obsessed with something new because I am afraid I am going to forget about her. I am so dramatic... I am scared of falling out of love...

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cissa-calls · 2 months

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Countdown to Agatha: Day 766

Y/N: “Can a solar eclipse affect your magic?”

Wanda: “That’s something I’m still unsure of myself! Since the source of my magic is chaos itself, the confusion and disarray brought on by an eclipse has the potential to create an even greater well of energy. But, that makes magic cast under it more fragile.”

Y/N: “Oh, but then what about Agatha?”

Agatha: “My powers come from a book. Since I’m not an ancient, prophetic celestial being connected with creation itself, no, the eclipse does not affect my magic. It’s hard to mess with the logic of ~book~”

Y/N: “Untrue! You can’t read the book when it’s dark from an eclipse!”

Agatha, sarcastically: “Wow. You sure know how to make a girl feel like a powerful conduit of magic.”

Wanda: “…still bitter about the whole “trying to take my powers and then failing to ascend past your mortal form and magic?””

Agatha: “Grrrrr, no.”

Y/N: “Agatha, it’s not polite to lie.”

Agatha: “Considering the amount of impolite things I want to commit right now, lying is your best option.”

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catanisgorgeous · 1 year

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Teddy Bears

Tags: Solomon/Reader, Established Relationship, Confessions, Kissing, Domestic Fluff, Babysitting, Childcare Magic (gone wrong

Summary: Solomon messed up again: but this time he messed up with Luke. He needs your help (no, not like Dora the Explorer) to control the pack of Teddy bears walking around the Purgatory Hall right now… and to control Luke who keeps making it worse. Well thank Diavolo you used to be a babysitter back in the Mortal Realm.

Luke: *bear emoji* *SOS emoji* *crying emoji* PLJSE CXME

You stared at your phone, unable to make head or tail of the text. It sounded like Luke had encountered a bear and wanted help but… what the hell—

So you called his guardian.

“Hello? Oh it’s you, MC!”

“Hey there Simeon! Erm, I think you’ve hit speakerphone…”

“What’s that? Something I should turn off? Can you hear me?”

“Yes yes, I can. Never mind that, erm, is everything alright? Luke just sent me a chaotic text…”

“He did? Does he do that often with you?”

“No...?”

“Oh… well I’m out, meeting here at the Castle, Solomon’s with him so I’m sure he’s alright.”

You bit your cheek, hearing the rustle of paper. Meeting at the castle… forget Diavolo and Barbatos, Lucifer was definitely there. Whatever turmoil Luke was in, if Solomon was with him, it definitely wasn't alright. And maybe it wasn’t too smart to say anything dangerous with both a protective Simeon and a murderous Lucifer on the line…

“Oh he just sent another text apologising, apparently it was a dare Solomon gave haha,” you lied, laughing nervously. “Sorry for bothering you guys! I’ll go now.”

Without waiting for a response, you cut the call and dashed outside, shouting an “I’ll be right back, don’t tell Lucifer!” to an inquisitive Asmodeus downstairs.

Solomon hadn’t answered the phone yet by the time you reached the Purgatory Hall. You banged loudly on the door when the handle didn’t budge. You could hear the sorcerer swearing terribly from this far… terrible way to look after a child no matter what was going on. “SOLOMON! Open up, it’s me, MC!”

“MC?” Bang— Crash— Thud— Solomon stumbled to the door, undoing the dozen different locks and pulling it open to find you there in all your messy, disheveled, ran-down-the-street-to-help glamour. “Thank goodness you’re here! Come in quick, watch your step, and don’t dare touch any of them.”

“Any of wh—“ your words got cut off as you walked in on a colony of teddy bears. Adorable and fluffy stuffed bear cubs, each with a ribbon of one of five different colours around their neck. How cute—

Except they were alive.

What the— “Solomon what the hell did you do?”

The bears were walking all over the place, checking out the television and radio remote controls, the switches and paintings on the walls, the ancient aesthetic lampshades at almost every corner… crawling all over the cushioned armchairs, two climbing the curtains and one dangling from the freaking chandelier!

This is why nobody leaves a child with a crackhead sorcerer.

One of the teddies walked right up to you, scrutinising the visitor.

“Don’t touch,” Solomon ordered.

“Relax, I heard the first time. But why, do they go rabid?” You laughed.

“No…”

Apparently your laugh was beautiful to hear because the teddy stepped closer and tapped your thigh (the highest it could reach). The instant it did, the teddy burst into a cloud of glitter that cleared up in seconds to reveal TWO teddy bears.

“...they multiply.”

“Clearly,” you shook your head. “I am so not walking through this mess, Solomon.” He nodded, grabbed your hand and whisked you away. The teddy closest to your feet gaped in awe as you and your sorcerer partner vanished into thin air, reappearing with a crack, right outside the kitchen.

“…warn me next time,” you clutched your stomach, finally understanding why Harry Potter from the books whined about Apparition.

“You asked for it,” Solomon grinned. “Literally. So you see—”

“Just sum up the problem at hand in less than five sentences.”

“O…kay…”

“That’s one.”

“…” He sighed and took a deep breath. “Luke wanted me to show him a 'fun spell' of mine,” he opened three fingers on his hand and folded one. “I don’t know much childcare magic and only remembered this and a cupcake juggling one.” Two. “I assumed the five-favourite-teddies-brought-to-life one will be less messy. There, satisfied?” He asked, showing his closed fist.

“Well you assumed wrong. All of this,” you swung your hands around the house. “Started from one teddy?”

“Yes. And they answer to the same names as their origins too. Like…” he pointed to the one hanging from the chandelier that just fell. “There were five. Red bowtie was Strawberry, Pink was Peach, Purple was Grape, Yellow was Lemon, Orange was—“

“Orange.”

“Tangie,” Solomon shook his white mane. “For Tangerine.”

“Same difference.”

"So now… if I called out: Tangie!”

Every last orange-bowtie bear in the mansion turned to look at them, black beady eyes staring. In curiosity, but given the sheer NUMBER of black beady eyes, it appeared murderous to you. Solomon chuckled at your stiff face and pulled you close by the waist, dragged you into the kitchen and shut the door.

“That’s just such a bigtime mess, Sol…”

“I know, love,” he sighed and pulled out two chairs for you both.

“Why the hell Tangie though?”

“Short for tangerine.”

“…why not just name him Orange?”

“That’s your problem right now?”

“My problem is why angels are so confusing, and sorcerers so reckless. You could have tested it out, then gotten rid of— wait why don’t you just explode them with some spell?!”

He laughed at the way your face lit up with the suggestion, glowing with pride at your 'ingenuity'. “Actually, I tried that. But one bear exploded into dust and Luke won’t let me anywhere near the rest.”

“He’s mad at you?”

“Absolutely furious. Insists on not 'killing the poor teddies'.”

“But you know… he did call me for help.”

“Wait he called you?”

“MC?!?!” A younger voice squeaked behind you. “MC YOU CAME!”

“I’m here, Luke,” you opened your arms wide and he ran into them, wrapping his hands around your neck and wailing on your chest. “Goodness, what on earth shook you up this bad?”

Solomon sat beside you, open-mouthed at Luke’s childlike open show of emotion… he only did that with Simeon.

Or so he had believed.

“MC, there’s so many bears it’s scary! A-and they broke things! They b-broke Simeon’s favourite antique tea-set… Simeon’s going to hate me!”

“More like he’s going to hate Solomon, this dude’s the one who did it,” you jabbed your boyfriend harshly on the shoulder, earning an “Ow!”

“No, I’m the one who asked for it…”

“Oh? So Solomon’s not to blame?”

Luke shook his head against your neck. “Don’t yell at him. It’s my fault for asking something tricky.”

You glanced over his golden hair at the man beside you who had claimed the boy to be angry with him just a moment ago. You cocked an eyebrow, smirking.

He looked rightfully flabbergasted.

“All right then. Let’s do this. Before you came, I was reminding Sol here of a spell from a while back. That spell should help to get rid of them all—“

“Get rid of them?!” Luke’s eyes widened in terror.

“In the sense of making them leave. The spell teleports them to somewhere far away where they can be safe.” You stroked Luke's head, pulling him closer. “So why don’t you and I stay in here with the door safely closed, until Solomon does his magic? You can do it, right Sol?” You glanced at the man, waving your hand subtly, signalling ‘Explode them’ and ‘clean up the dust so he won’t realise’.

“A-Ah! Right. Certainly,” Solomon jumped to his feet and rushed outside, pulling the door shut behind him.

The walls were perfectly soundproof: Simeon probably had it done that way to block Solomon’s kitchen bombs. You gently pulled Luke off your neck and placed him on a chair, brushing down his crumpled clothes and fixing his hair.

He watched you silently, big blue eyes staring into your soul. “You’re really kind.”

Your hand stilled in his hair. You looked down at him, barely hiding the surprise written all over your face. “Who knew little Luke was capable of compliments too?”

“Hmph,” he crossed his arms with a pout. His face softened again. “I’m serious. You… You really like Solomon?”

“Mhm.”

“Do you love him?”

“I— What is this supposed to be, an investigation from the little brother before permitting marriage or something?”

“I’m not the little brother! I just want to know. Simeon always says Solomon could never be with someone unless they’re ridiculously patient and kind. The exact opposite of him,” Luke rolled his eyes. “I think you fit the picture. And I think Simeon would agree.”

You hardly registered the big, warm smile on your face, but you saw Luke reflecting it. “Perhaps so…” You shrugged. “I don’t know about that but to answer your question: yes, I do.”

“Have you told him yet? Or are you and Solomon as ignorant idiots as those mean demons are?”

“Erm… second, probably.”

Luke stifled a laugh, not ready to let down his proud armour that much yet, and pushed himself off the chair onto his feet. “There you go! You gave me teddies, I gave you this. We’re even now.” He grinned at the door, waved to you and marched out the kitchen into a clean and empty room (at last).

You were on your feet, spinning around to find Solomon leaning on the doorframe, presenting one of his smuggest smiles yet. “Well. I knew it wouldn’t be too hard to get that from you but never in my wildest dreams…”

“Would you have thought Luke would have to do it for you,” you rolled your eyes, mimicking Luke a minute ago. “What now, you’re going to take me off on a trip to celebrate?”

“Honeymoon so fast, love?” Solomon tsked, beaming wider when you flushed scarlet. “Actually, I’d have preferred a trip to my room but your nanny called.”

“…Lucifer.”

“Yep. Super mad. Wants you home right away.”

“That man has to ruin every perfect moment.”

“Not necessarily,” he strode closer, pulling you into what you would later call his sweetest kiss yet. Nothing too soft, nothing too harsh, sweetly sucking on your lips, tongue tracing the lipgloss. Your hands were in his silver hair and his were on your waist, and all of a sudden your knees hit wood and buckled into a soft tower of blankets. He pulled away for a breath, letting you look around to find he had brought you straight to your room.

The door threw itself open: Lucifer had probably sensed the intrusion on his mansion. His mouth was wide open, ready to yell your soul apart, but his “WHAT WERE YOU THI—“ skidded to a halt when he saw Solomon standing by your bed, his hair a horrifying mess, beads of sweat gleaming on his neck and forehead.

The mission to explode a hundred thousand teddy bears had been exhausting, indeed: but Lucifer didn’t know that. All he could think of was… other reasons.

“Despicable,” he muttered, slamming the door shut.

Solomon burst into laughter, flopping onto your bed and rolling around guffawing. “Imagine mistaking a teddy bear battle for that!”

You lay down next to him, watching the happy patterns his accidental magic drew on the ceiling. He's happy. Thanks to me. You smiled. “You’re such an airhead.” You punched his shoulder.

“Now I know you do love me for it.”

He was happy, and you couldn’t possibly be happier. “Maybe.”

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madwomansapologist · 7 months

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the other magical girl in town | agatha harkness

synopsis: After escaping from being burned alive, the last thing you expected to have to deal with was another witch. But its been a long time since things stopped going the way you expect them to go. Agatha wasn't the worst thing you faced this day.

warnings: gn!reader. cottage core romance! I'VE SAID COTTAGE CORE ROMANCE. a sequence to that.

Normally you would notice earlier that somebody was following you. From the village's core, to your remote cabin, was a long path to cross. In your defense, you thought you had killed everyone on this shitty village.

They said you sould your soul. What if you had? What if you had laid with the devil himself? Someone that was punished for making questions has more to add into your life than those that burned whoever don't fit into the norm.

The worst part is that you never done something against them. All you wanted was to rest, to learn, be comfortable. All you wanted was to enjoy your own life. But of course you're the one to blame for their destructive paranoias. That's tiring. Those constant chases, your life being torned apart by people that don't want to understand what the world has to offer.

And now you're the villain. From now on, anyone that ever think about what happened today will say that a heartless witch killed innocent people. No one will remember the person who was dragged by their hair while begging to be left alone. No one will say that maybe if they didn't want to die, they could have left you alone.

So be it. You were tired of this village anyway.

It was only when you landed in front of your cabin that you perceived it. What gave her away was the perfume. With the lavender plantations surrounding his house, it was hard to miss. That delicate peach aroma. Gentle, but present.

With that, you noticed the other signs. That shadow over your shoulders. The wind barrier behind you. You know your power. You know how strong you are, and how demolisher you can be. There is only one reason for someone to be right behind you. "What do you want, witch?"

Agatha landed on the floor, but didn't step furter. "I saw everything." She clenched her fists, looking at some point far away in the horizon. "It was cruel."

You turned to her, staring at her wide green eyes. Blue energy surrounded your hand, and you quickly thought about a rune or two that could be used if things went south. "So you want to play the hero? Will you avenge those poor innocent people? Go ahead. Try me."

"Your wrists." Agatha pointed at them. "Are they burning?"

That made you took a step back, surprised by the sudden change of subject. "What do you want?"

"I remember how it felt", Agatha told you. "The ropes against your skin, your muscles stretched, you heartbeats louder than you conscience. And the fear. I still feel it. To know that you were nothing but something that should rot."

You didn't move as she approached. Didn't flinch when she touched your hand. Didn't struggle when she stroked your rope-bruised wrists. You did nothing but watch her.

"I killed them too", she caressed your skin. It was so gentle, so caring. So different from her words. "And I would do it again. I would kill anyone, no matter what it takes, that ever made me feel like that again."

"Why?" Your mouth freed the words before you could chose what you would say. "Why did they hurted you?"

"Because I knew more than they wanted me to", she raised your hand to her face, and left a delicate kiss on the thin skin. She rubbed her nose against your skin, the cold air sending goosebumps up your arms. "Because they couldn't handle to look at me and see what they would never be."

"Do you fear me?" You whispered, unable to look away from her eyes. It was so easy to get lost in her immensity.

Agatha smiled against your hand. She shook her head, breathing your sweet scent. "Do you?"

The answer came in the form of an invitation. Agatha entered your house, sat in your kitchen, ate your food. You talked about the past, about the bonfire, about the sky. And for a few hours, you forget. About all those horrible things that just happened.

It was only you, Agatha, and the cold breeze.

As the days pass, the need to find a new place to live becomes lost. There were many villages nearby, places to buy food and anything else needed, and with the right runes you made the abandoned village forgotten. But there was no reason to pretend that she wasn't the reason you wanted to stay there.

That Agatha teaching you about runes in your room wasn't worth the trips to the distant market. That she failing at baking a cake wasn't worth the power it took from you to hide the village. That Agatha massaging your wrists wasn't worth everything.

"I just don't see why", you told her. Lying on your bed, your hair spread across the sheet, you stared at the ceiling of the cabin. "To find somewhere safe, invent a new story, put on so much effort just to live somewhere else. I pretty much rather stay there."

"We could live in castles. Surrounded by important, inteligent people. Or we could go to a different country. I heard that Germany is pretty this time of the year", Agatha turned over in bed, lying on her side to face you. She tucked your hair behind your ear. Agatha didn't let her hand go away from you. "Anywhere but Spain."

You giggle at her words. "Are you serious?"

"Unless you want to get burned alive..."

"No", you interrupted her. "You say 'we'. Did you meant that?"

Agatha caressed your ear, playing with your lobe. "My beautiful enchantress, sweet little witch, would you like to travel with me? To met different people, stay on different places, live infinite lives? Would you do that with me? Forever and evermore?"

"Yes", you grabbed her hand, pulling it closer to your mouth. You kissed each of her knuckles. "Yes, I do."

Agatha held his face as if it were the most delicate thing in the world. As if it were the greatest treasure she had ever seen in her long life. "Anywhere but Spain?

"Anywhere but Spain."

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

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isawthisangel · 2 years

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Chaos magic (Loki x reader)

word count -> 2.5k

plot summary -> wandavision but it's lokiy/n

a/n -> angst!! so much angst oh my god all the trigger warnings there's death and blood and grieving and it's all just a lot this prompt was amazing though

‘This should be fun.’

The last full sentence you’d ever spoken to him.

He can see you now, stood before him, brimming with energy and nerves and enthusiasm, bouncing on the balls of your feet. Impatient. Always moving, never still.

Upon seeing the creatures you’d been dispatched to kill your expression had changed, nervousness switching to resilience, enthusiasm to determination.

The others had all been there of course. His brother. Stark with his obnoxious suit. The green one. Loki abhors thinking of them now, with only the possible exception of his brother, reluctant to remember even what they looked like, let alone their names.

‘This should be fun,’ you’d said, your eyes shining with fervour as you scanned the oncoming targets. Stark had made one of his remarks, and Loki remembers feeling his chest tighten with affection as you’d laughed, carefree.

He’d always found himself having to physically stop himself from removing you from danger. Shoving you behind him, through a portal, away, safe, where whatever it was you so loved throwing yourself at recklessly couldn’t hurt you.

They always used to joke about your recklessness, how you’d be the first one to go. The thought of it makes him feel sick now.

You’d practically flown into battle, ahead of everyone as usual, wanting to have the first say in how things were going to go. Loki doesn’t remember feeling particularly worried about this; he’s used to you being stupid, but he’d also been used to seeing you coming back to him at the end. Limping and covered in your own blood, yes, but nothing that he couldn’t manage.

That day, it became something that he couldn’t manage. It wasn’t a long fight, maybe about fifteen minutes or so, but it was a hard one, and at the end of it he’d stood catching his breath and looked around for you. You were supposed to have been making some funny comment to Stark, or calling for him to heal a wound, or someone else’s wound.

You were not supposed to have been lying on the floor, poisoned, and bleeding out. You weren’t supposed to have been dying.

Really dying.

He remembers thinking that as he’d stood over you, not moving quickly enough because for some reason his limbs had seized up and his brain wasn’t thinking half as fast as it usually was because there was a lot of blood on the floor and your eyes weren’t open.

He remembers crouching next to you and seeing someone holding your hand, and hearing a voice telling him urgently to do something and thinking don’t you think I would be if I could?.

He remembers too much and suddenly he’s back there, living it again as he has countless times already.

He tries to heal you, and your eyelids flutter and open briefly, and when you look at him your eyes are so full of pain and fear that Loki stops breathing.

‘It’s okay. You’re okay, you’re fine,’ he can hear himself speaking from far away, hear his shaking voice and see his hand smoothing the hair back from your forehead but in reality it’s like he’s floating and alarms are going off in his head and he doesn’t know what to do.

Thor is trying to move you but Loki pushes him away roughly, trying to heal you again and why isn’t it working? He thinks he says this last part out loud, maybe shouts it. He knows why, it’s poison from those things, and it’s in your veins, trying to take you from him.

Your breathing is getting shallower by the second, and he tries healing you again, again, again, until his vision goes blurry and his head spins.

‘Loki, stop.’

Your voice sounds incredibly small and weak, and he squeezes his eyes shut because this isn’t happening, it can’t be happening, not to him, not to you.

‘It hurts,’ you gasp, your voice scratching its way free of your throat and Loki thinks I know, he’s hurting so much that he thinks he might die right along with you. Because it’s happening. You’re dying. He feels it.

So he pulls you close to him, answering your whimpers of pain not with magic that heals but instead with magic that soothes and calms, and he feels your muscles relax, watches through blurry eyes as you look up at him and feels his heart break, actually break when he sees how scared you are.

‘I don’t… want to go,’ you manage, and Loki hears someone sobbing behind him which fills him with inexplicable rage because they can’t be feeling a fraction of the pain he feels, their mortal body would surely break apart and fold in on itself from the anguish.

The rage is instantly quelled by an unbearable wave of grief and yet he’s still talking to you, holding you, murmuring quiet words of comfort and reassurance even as your blood stains his clothes and your eyes take on a faraway look which tells you that you can’t see him anymore.

He’s certain his heart stops beating with yours.

‘Y/N,’ he says, but nothing happens, he can’t speak, can’t move. You’ve gone awfully still, but your blood continues to seep steadily onto the ground, onto him, his hands, staining his skin.

It occurs to Loki that this cannot possibly be happening, because not twenty minutes ago he’d been stood by your side watching you laugh and you’d been so alive. You can’t just be gone, not just like that, there’s too much of you.

There’s a strange buzzing noise in his ears; he swallows and blinks and tries to get rid of it, tries to draw a breath. He still can’t move. His heart, which had seconds previously seemed to have ceased working, now starts hammering inside his chest, beating against the inside of his ribcage as though trying to get out, towards you, closer to you.

He’s acutely aware of noise around him, voices, people, nothing that matters. He’s starting to panic a bit, and the thought makes him panic more because he doesn’t let people see him showing emotion unless it’s you, and you’re…

Loki gasps suddenly, a tight pain in his chest alerting him to the fact that he hadn’t been breathing. He looks up and realises that Thor had been sat on your other side the whole time, holding your other hand. He’s still holding your hand as he looks over at his brother, cheeks wet, loss and pain written plainly across his face. Loki wonders if he looks anything like that.

He wants to leave because more people are arriving now and he knows they’ll want to take you from him and he doesn’t know if he can let go and then he’ll have to talk to people and it’s all just moving too fast. He could do it, he could just teleport the two of you away right now and not have to deal with any of it, not yet.

That will only prolong the pain says a voice in his head, and it sounds a bit like you. He’s suddenly aware that he’ll never hear your voice again, and the awful, gut-wrenching feeling in his chest grows and builds until it’s dangerously close to being absolutely, completely unbearable.

He needs to be alone, but he won’t leave you. Not until he has to.

Thor reaches over and places your hand gently on your abdomen. Your fingers are curled slightly from where you’d been holding on to him, and Loki realises with a jolt that your other hand is clasped tightly in his.

‘Loki,’ Thor says gently, and Loki can only close his eyes and give the tiniest of head shakes.

‘We have to move her,’ his brother says, his voice reduced by grief to barely more than a whisper. Loki knows, but that means looking back down at you, and he doesn’t even know if he can do that, let alone let go of your hand, or stand up or walk, or carry you.

It’s started to rain; the sky is crying and Loki can only agree.

‘Where?’ he manages, and his voice doesn’t sound like his.

‘The tower,’ Thor replies, and it takes a minute but finally Loki nods. With Herculean effort he forces himself to look back down at you and almost falls to pieces. Your face is still turned to him, your eyes hideously, irreversibly blank.

Thor reaches across slowly and, when Loki doesn’t stop him, closes your eyes with the utmost caution, as though he might still be able to hurt you. It’s better. Loki can almost pretend you’re sleeping this way.

It still takes him another minute to remove his hand from yours. He can’t remember if he’d grabbed you or vice versa but it feels intrinsically wrong to take his hand away from yours.

Somehow he gets you in his arms. Somehow he stands up; he thinks Thor might have had to help him with that part. And then he’s walking, trying very hard not to blink, not to look at the way your arm hangs uselessly in the air as he moves you, not to look at anyone or anything apart from Thor’s back, in front of him.

Then he’s in the Quinjet, and Thor points to the medical table. Loki puts you down, almost mechanically. He’s put you there so many times before, in varying states of disarray and pain, ready to do whatever it takes to heal you.

Not this time.

Now that he’s not touching you anymore, he can feel the haze of shock more clearly. He thinks that it’s the only thing from keeping him from destroying everyone and everything around him and then himself for not keeping you safe.

Seeing your lifeless body feels so horribly wrong, like seeing the night sky with no stars or moon, or listening to a song with no melody.

Suddenly he has to get away. Thor will make sure you’re kept safe.

Loki turns and sees the others. They look torn apart, numb. No one tries to stop him as he stumbles past them and vanishes.

He sits up suddenly, not wanting to remember anymore. But memories of you are all he has left.

It’s been three days. It still hurts the same, if not more. He hasn’t eaten, hasn’t slept. He knows he’ll only wake up reaching for you, and he won’t be able to bear it when his hand finds nothing but an empty bed.

No one’s tried to speak to him since, not even Thor, but he’s heard them talking.

‘What do we do with him? She is… was, the only reason he’s here. And he’s dangerous, we know what he’s capable of…’

Thor had been arguing his case vehemently, but Loki can’t help but agree with Stark and the others. He is dangerous. It scares him as well as them, because no one knows what he’s capable of more than him. Shock lingers around him, protecting him from the worst of the pain, but not for much longer.

He’s waiting to break, and he expects it’ll happen soon. He doesn’t want to be here when it happens. He wants to be away from Thor, away from everyone if he can help it, but better to be around people he doesn’t know and care about than people he does.

Suddenly he’s up, moving as though in a trance. If he stays in this room for one second longer he’ll surely go insane. Teleporting from the tower is absolutely against the rules, but he can’t find it in him to care.

So he teleports once. Twice. And again, and again, and again, going through the motions, letting his mind go blissfully blank for a while.

It’s about ten minutes before he gets tired. He has no idea how far he’s gone, or where he might have ended up. There are houses, and it’s snowing. No one is about.

The cold which settles over his skin is welcome to him, and then before he can help it he’s remembering again. The last time he’d seen snow he’d been with you.

‘Catch,’ he hears you say.

The snowball hits him square in the chest, and he reacts only by turning to look at you slowly, taking great pleasure in watching hilarity turn to anxiety as you watch him brush the snow from his coat and then flex his fingers.

He remembers laughing and laughing, your nose, red from the cold, scrunching up in that adorable manner, you beginning to shiver and stealing his coat because ‘why do you need that?’, snowflakes in your hair, happiness.

Now, the white landscape in front of Loki blurs as his eyes fill, tears burning hot against the icy coldness of his cheeks. Everything is white, until everything is black when it becomes too much and he screws his eyes shut.

He feels himself breaking, and lets it happen. And then everything is green.

…

‘Loki?’

His eyes snap open.

You’re there.

Concern in your eyes, you reach for him, and he feels your touch and doesn’t understand. The great hole in his chest carved out by grief over your loss is still there, and yet here you are, snowflakes in your hair and all.

‘Y/N,’ he tries to say, but yet again finds himself unable to speak, to move.

Your hands grip his shoulders, and he’s surely dreaming.

‘Loki, people are looking,’ you say, throwing a nervous smile over your shoulder at some passers-by.

Suddenly able to move, he reaches out and pushes some hair back from your face. Images flash across his mind of you, bloody, laid across his lap, but they’re somewhat blurred, and before he can think about it too much they’re gone.

You still look confused, so he pulls you to him, and your body fits against his perfectly, as it always has. One hand on your back, one in your hair he breathes you in, and practically feels the hole in his chest shrinking, affection for you swelling in him and disguising the hurt.

Chaos magic.

He hears the voice in his head, and ignores it, pushing it away and concentrating on the way he can feel your heart beating, the rise and fall of your chest against his as you breathe.

‘This is very romantic and all, but can we start walking back? I’m cold,’ you say, your voice slightly muffled against his chest.

Worry flares in his chest.

‘Back?’ he asks, and you pull away in order to look up at him.

‘Home,’ you say, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Somewhere, in the total depths of his mind, Loki knows that this is absolutely wrong and he should stop this immediately. But the rest of him knows that he can’t.

So he smiles at you.

‘Okay,’ he says, and you take his hand to lead him home.

part two?? lmk

Tag list💌: @propertyofkingvalkyrie @later-gators12

comment to be added ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

#loki x reader #loki angst #loki x reader insert #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #marvel fanfic #chaos magic #loki laufeyson

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inhuman-obey-me · 2 years

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Hey hey hey! Congratulations on the 2700! So insane seeing the growth over the year+ I've been following <3 (Also, goodness, you guys write so much during the celebrations that I'd still need the little bit of inactivity to catch up lmao >w< Hope life's going okay for you guys!)

⏳ - You are the moment I belong to, with Solomon, MC included please?

Ahah thank youuuu, we're glad the inactivity is good for something at least 🙈 even if we really do want to get back to posting regularly soon!! And thanks for being one of our earliest followers, it's always a delight to see your tag commentary about our stuff!

"You are the moment I belong to." - Solomon x MC

Sometimes, you're not sure how you never saw it before.

You see it now -- how immortality lives in him. You see it in the way his mysterious smile hides more secrets than could possibly be collected in a single lifetime. You can hear it in how deftly his tongue moves across words in spells that should have long since been lost to time. It is in his hands when they linger just a fraction of a second longer on old names in your books, and hidden deep in his unreadable eyes when his gaze holds yours.

It's the things that are there in a moment and gone in the next -- the distant ache you sense for a fraction of a second at a time before the usual cheerful mischief returns to his countenance. He's so good at hiding it, at brushing it away like he brushes your hair from your face before his lips meet yours. He gently sweeps past it, like the wind on your face as you smile at the sun together, and when he does, oh how badly you want to let him. You want to just be swept into the warmth of the moment and the wonderful feeling of simply being beside each other, where you can lie back and almost forget about it.

But you can't forget, not really. Not anymore.

You can hear it now, and now you hear it in everything. It's in the skillful way he dodges admitting anything about himself, be it future plans or distant past. In the way he says "I love you" but never "forever" or "always." In his sigh of relief as he says, "It's really good to see your face. It just...puts me at ease," and in the odd breath of fear hiding in his voice as he tells you, "It just makes me feel better to feel your hand in mine. To know you're here with me."

And in your mind, you can hear it, you can't help it, it's there, the silent rest of the sentence --

"For now."

He blinks at you, stunned, not quite sure what you mean by the words you've blurted out. You didn't mean to, honestly. But you can't help it anymore, you hear it even if he doesn't say it, and you can't stand leaving it unsaid anymore. So you let the pent up fears start to slip from your eyes, and you continue.

"I'm here with you, for now, you mean. For this one little moment in your impossibly long life, I'm here. That's what you're thinking, isn't it? Always thinking about how this is temporary...here with you now, but always looking out to a time when I won't be."

He opens his mouth to protest, but for once, the ever smooth sorcerer is left speechless. He can't exactly deny it, and yet you're wrong. You don't understand, and how could you? And how can he explain it so that you do?

"No, MC, no, I'm -- not looking to a time when you'll be gone." He grips your hand tighter, pulls you in close so that he can wrap you tightly against his chest. He can't look you in the eyes this way, but you feel his heartbeat against you as he tries to find the words to reassure you. "I'm -- it's not another time I'm looking out to. I'm holding on to this time."

You can feel the sincerity in his words but can't help still trembling slightly in his embrace. Of course you know that he's not looking forward to when you'll be gone. Of course he wants to hold on to this time, but... "Solomon, I'm right here. How can you hold on to this time if you aren't in it with me? Solomon, please, just...be here with me. Live this time with me."

"I am. I am, my love. You're -- I'm so sorry. I am here with you, really. There's nowhere, no time, I'd rather be but with you. You, here with me now, it means everything to me. This time together, this moment, is the most precious thing I've ever had, the most precious time of my life -- finally meeting my beloved, after an eternity."

The warm drop of tears falls against your back, as his composure begins to crack as well, and you turn to him, placing your hand against his cheek to make him face you again. "Then why, Solomon? Why are you always thinking of how this isn't going to last?"

"I -- you're right, MC. It's true, I do think of the day when you'll be gone -- I think of it, and it terrifies me. I want this time between us to last forever, even if I know it won't." His eyes are pleading to you, begging you to understand what he means. He takes your hand from his cheek, pressing your fingers tenderly to his lips instead.

"But even if it won't, even if you're only here for this time, for this moment of my life...you are the moment I belong to. I love you. I love you now, and I will love you when you're gone. That will always be true. So even if these moments with you are all I can have, you will have all of mine. Forever. I promise."

This stupid man. This stupid, stupid, beautiful man, but it settles you now. This stupid man, with his beautiful words and beautiful heart, and brilliant mind always stupidly unspoken --

Your lips find his, and in that moment, it's as though time is frozen and rushing past you two at once. You are drinking in the intensity of his passion as you share yours in return.

When at last you pull apart again, your eyes lock with his, and your voice is solid again, insistent.

"Then take all my moments too, Solomon. Because I'll love you too, even when I'm gone. Always."

#me last time: oops this got long but ill get it back under control with the next one #me this time: .....oops it's even longer #sob i just cant help getting carried away with my favorite magic man #mod chaos in the devildom #obey me #obey me!#obey me swd #obey me shall we date #omswd #obey me solomon #obey me solomon x reader #obey me solomon x mc #obey me fic #obey me drabble #writings #drabble #2700 follower celebration

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bfi-archive · 2 years

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SET’S AVATAR FROM “SUNCITY” BY @petertingle-yipyip

From my research, Set is the God of Deserts, Chaos, War, and Storms. Her powers in the suit include weather manipulation and sand bending. She has blue chaos magic that she had before Set. The black mask is mainly for when she’s sand bending, and the symbols are supposed to be for/about Set but that’s based off a few pictures. If it’s wrong, I apologize. (Read it here)

side note: i love her color palette

#ptyy suits #en talks: y/n suits #moon knight fic #avatar!reader #set #chaos magic #moon knight oc

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firelise · 5 months

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another positive review of my book is in, my editor pointed out them calling it "a singularly compelling experience" but I was more proud of them calling it a "skillfully and chaotically" rendered story. Thats what i was going for. Chaos.

#hehe #😈#as the direct quote from the book goes: - 'Let’s play the penis game.' 'Soo...chaos?' I said. 'Chaos.' -#i love chaos magic i love chaos as solution and revolution live for it #i wear this and the reader review giving it 4 instead of 5 stars bc it had 'too much spanish' as badges of honor thank you sir

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scentedpeachlandcreator · 20 days

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You want to manifest your dream life?

I gotcha! This post is right here to make you stop over-consuming content about LOA and finally be able to manifest your dream reality!

Decide:

Okay, so you first need to decide what you want to manifest.

You want to live in a penthouse and in a Big mansion with your family or sp? you Can! You want to wake up in a magical world you created Guess what? Yes, you Can!

Do you want to wake up with your desired appearance from head to toe? Yes, you Can. And when I say you Can that means you're fucking limitless don't let anybody limit you, 'cause you’re the creator of your own reality, not theirs but yours, and you create the rules here!

throw logic out the window! cause it won’t get you anywhere if you still ask “if i can manifest that and that..”

Okay, so when you decide what you want to manifest you might wonder what will you do next?

Well, it's simple really. just decide that you already have it.

But how?

By simply deciding that you already have your desires/dream life in your 4D/imagination.

using methods:

Now you might need to use methods and by methods that means techniques that will help you achieve your desires and that make you fulfilled, you Can Also create your own method that suits you well.

Note: you don't need to do a certain method that everyone uses and that doesn’t resonate with you.

You Can click here and here you will find all the methods that were used in the LOA community.

my favorite: affirming and this method (click here!).

Then when you start affirming for your Desires or use methods to manifest your Desires you might encounter some issues with the 3d.

Things start going the opposite and you’ll start giving up and doubting yourself and the law.

And that when it comes to the important thing to do and it is called persisting.

Persist:

when you see things start going up the opposite way (in the 3d) and that is when you need to do your job by persisting in the idea of already having your desires in the 4d, by being consistent and stubborn in your assumption.

that it! easy right?

you might have some questions about all of this and how to react in certain situations with the 3d I advice you to read these posts and documents:

This one , this , this , this , this one, this, this.

and lastly, stop it like really stop consuming info and not applying the law, you can still be on this app but just don’t be obsessively always here, always waiting for a new post to make you realize what method or technique or what it is will make you manifest your desires.

remember the key is self, and yes you, the reader who is reading my post, you have such infinite power inside you that could change your whole world 360 degree.

remember to trust yourself and to have faith in the unseen, you can do it I have my trust in you, and always remember that some people were in extremely difficult circumstances and they did what? yes succeed, by having faith in the unseen and persisting in their imagination and now they’re living their best life.

be gentle with yourself, take care of yourself, and prioritize your mental health.

Summary:

: ̗̀➛ decide what you want to manifest.

: ̗̀➛ affirm (or use any methods).

: ̗̀➛persist.

chao chao!

xoxo, Eli.

#law of assumption #loa #loa tumblr #loa blog #law of manifestation #how to manifest #loassumption #loablr #manifesting #void state

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cieric-of-chaos · 2 months

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Hello its me yapping again... about that witch from Marvel sorry bad English

Scarlet witch solo film but instead of being your typical 'mcu magic user shooting laser beams/lame-portaling to different dimensions plot ' it's Wanda Traveling the World Investigating and solving paranormal Cases, committing exorcism ,Collecting weird possessed knick knacks, Interacting with Supernatural entities like Actual Angels and Demons... Ghost? gnomes? Fairies? Werewolf? vampire?etc..like imagine them being an actual entities and creatures ( I hate that mcu always Scientify/Alienfied (?) Supernatural Entities and mythological creatures) boringggg

I think with an actual creative writer they can make mcu Wanda and mcu Chthon interesting and entertaining not just another "I am demon and I made you do bad things because I chosen you plot" please like imagine if he and Wanda actually met before but Wanda did not know he was a demon, they met after her parents die and he's like....(Don't slap me please) Became like her father figure/weird imaginary best friend, growing up in Wanda's memory he's just a kind oldman/creatures that helps her manage and Cope her with the death of her parents but then he randomly disappears as she reaches adulthood and also as a child she's experiencing supernatural and paranormal activities she didn't know he is the reason she is seeing things until she became the Scarlet witch... there is so many things I want to say....like come onnn the potential is there!Just Imagine The Drama The Angst and Wanda Having a Father(Figure) issue!!

Wanda Maximoff Character have so many potential and I hate that writers don't realize it :( Likes she's interesting....and I hate it even more that majority of her fans just talks on how much they I wanna sleep with her...and if not they are just reducing her to another depressed character that don't know how to handle herself I hate that TikTok fans won't stop focusing on her dead families and won't stop making the same videos over and over again, I don't care about her being powerful i hate that they made her too powerful because it's the only thing people always talks about...and Wanda is not supposed to be scary she is not a horror character stop trying to make her scary pleaseeee stop it (Waldron had done so much damage in her character >:|)

imagine her doing actual witchcraft that is not just "moving lowing hand thingy"...ya know like she obviously still gonna use her powers but not just for shooting beams and levitating objects she can do more than that like 'i hate that magic is just unexplained science thingy' it's so boring, I want her to yell Incantation while casting spells I don't care if it "goofy or corny" that's how magic is supposed to be anyway and I also hate the "no need for Incantation thingy" and the Karate-kungfu with Glowing sticks and circle in Doctor strange...how are these people called wizard?

I hope with see some real Magic in Doctor strange 3

how did mcu manage to make magic boring...I hate this...yes the fight scenes in Doctor strange are entertaining but they remind me of Naruto Ninjas more than wizards... and again sorry for my bad English I am bad at words...and "(?)" means I m not sure if the words are right ..

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ohdeerfully · 4 months

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Can I please request Alastor and reader having a sleepover because of flooding in the hotel which made most rooms in the hotel out of service including Alastor's and Alastor chooses to stay at reader room because ✨romance✨ Oh and can I be ☀️ anon ( I'm the person who made first request.)

I love your writing so much!!!

hii again!!! thank you so much for the request ☀️! i love when anons give themselves names its actually so fun (,:

A Dry Bed

Alastor x Reader (fluff) TW: none! join my discord! ═══ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ═══

It’s nothing new when a violent demon shows up at the doorsteps to the Hazbin Hotel–Charlie’s idea wasn’t a popular one, except to a very niche market of demons. Many came just to cause havoc and make life harder for the already strained employees of the hotel.

This was new, though, you mused to yourself briefly as a fish-headed demon ripped open the door, the hinges squealing in protest. Bubbles of water floated around his body, strings of a magic aura keeping them attached to his form; there was a large one encasing his head like a helmet, making his already fish-eyed features more… well… fish-eyed and distorted.

Most demons weren’t manifested in hell bearing any sort of noticeable power other than sometimes having a decent “full” demon form. So, seeing this fish rearing a set of magical balls of water for attack, for no real reason in particular and with a glint of mania in his eyes, quickly put everybody to their feet and in action.

Alastor was out doing god-knows-what, otherwise this would’ve been over in an instant. The other demons in the hotel were incredibly strong in their own right, but it was undeniable that the power imbalance was… huge. And the immediate chaos that ensued likely would’ve been prevented.

The fish barely hesitated after nearly breaking the front doors, immediately detaching his balls of water and hurling them in every direction. Bottles of booze were shattering, hanging pictures were tumbling, and wooden legs of furniture snapped.

Of course, it was over nearly as soon as it started. With a movement so fast you could hardly watch, Vaggie had the fish pinned down, her foot pressed against his neck and spear pointed at one of his bulging eyes. Her eyes were narrowed so hard, her lips so twisted in a scowl, you could practically see the fire of her anger.

“Vaggie, hey, hey, hey,” Charlie quickly rattled out, pressing her hands against her girlfriend’s arm and gently ushering away the spear. Vaggie refused to release the demon, who was gurgling some nonsense in his bubble of a helmet. Charlie nudged at her leg that was pinning the demon down. “C’mon. No killing. You know the rules.”

“Charlie, this guy literally came in with intent to kill! Stop treating him like he wants to be in the hotel.” “I know! But… just…” Charlie thought for a moment.

The fish headed demon started thrashing around, but Vaggie’s strong leg kept him down. He was growing desperate, you could tell, and a magic aura seemed to flicker around him as he fought for his freedom.

Charlie opened her mouth again, likely to coerce Vaggie to let the guy go, but was interrupted by a loud, squealing groan from every direction. You frowned and leaned your ear against the wall, where it seemed the loudest. The sound of screaming pipes and popping bolts made you clench your jaw and whip your arms over your head, right in time for the walls to start bursting with dangerously high pressure water.

Vaggie turned a glare to Charlie and spread her arms in a “you see?” motion. She briefly raised her leg, only to slam it back down on the fish’s head. His protective bubble popped, and he was knocked out cold.

Easily enough, the pressure immediately began to release after the culprit had been knocked out, but the pipes wouldn’t magically fix themselves. Charlie was running back and forth, trying desperately to survey the damage to her hotel. Footsteps came thudding down the stairs and a spindly pink demon came flying down.

“Hey, what the fuck is- fuck!” Angel Dust’s curse-filled rant was interrupted as he tripped head first into the steadily increasing pool of water, not expecting his foot to get dragged behind him by said water. With a moment of confused thrashing he stood back up and shook water from his now drenched hair.

“Guys, a little help?” Charlie snapped, unintentionally raising her voice at the three of you. “I don’t know what to do, but just-! Something!”

Niffty was quick to arrive after Angel, announcing herself with a shrill cry at the state of things. She immediately went to work, practically flying this way and that with a little hammer and nails. You wondered if she could just materialize that at will.

After finally ebbing the flow at the lobby, you looked at the stairs to the next floor. A steady stream of water made a shock of cold run down your neck.

“Guys…” You pointed at the base of the stairs and drew a line with your finger, following the trail of water.

Charlie choked out a short cry, and Niffty didn’t hesitate before barreling between your legs and up the steps.

“Oh! My,” A shocked voice called from the entrance. A prickling of static covered your skin, and tension immediately left your shoulders. With him here, this would go a lot faster. You turned your head to look at the Radio Demon, who was now delicately stepping through the layer of water that was now creeping out the open lobby doors.

“This seems like a dream of a little orphan from the Dirty Thirties, I do think,” Alastor joked, mouth ajar and eyes shut in a sinister laugh at his humor. His staticy ambience changed to a personal laugh track following his statement. His cane was held up carefully on his elbow as he surveyed the scene.

“No, this won’t do! Not at all, what a dreadful sight for new patrons,” As his hand rose and a crackling of loud static filled the room, you heard the noise of metal bending and snapping as he magically forced them back into place. Even with all the pipes fixed, the water remained. You guessed it was up to the rest of you to deal with that part.

“Thank you soooo much, Al,” Charlie had her hands clasped and shaking in front of her as she continued to spew thanks at him for the help. She stopped and looked around. There was still a huge mess. And there was still a lot of water.

The lot of you had spent the next few hours desperately trying to scoop, dump, scoop again, dump again, all the water out, but it seemed neverending. Husk had showed up at some point, went on a furious rant about his collection of now-smashed bottles, and had been cradling the remaining one ever since.

Charlie had given everybody a verbal pat on the back, and called it a night. “We can get back to it in the morning.” She said this, but you had a feeling she would remain up trying her best to fix the mess. Alastor had excused himself some time ago, saying something about his broadcasts and his papers. Since then, your thoughts have been filled with aggravation from his lack of aid. Yes, he had fixed the pipes, but the water.

You gave a light smile to Charlie, half in thanks and half in apology, before heading up to your room. Your jaw was clenched with anticipation for what your room might look like. You could already visualize the damp curtains, the dripping bed, the mildewy air… And your clothes were surely ruined. You’d have to buy something to wear while you washed everything you owned. You sighed at the thought.

You took a breath before pushing the door open. And, when you looked inside, it was… completely dry.

“What the hell.” You deadpanned, eyes scanning the entire room. Surely there was at least a puddle of water somewhere. The water had affected every level, and although you did live on one of the higher floors you still couldn’t understand how your room managed to escape the flood.

You stepped inside and closed the door behind you, making quick work of your drenched clothes and changing into something dry. You fell face first into your pillows. Your eyes were so, so heavy.

A few seconds passed before a knock interrupted the sleep that had been creeping over your body. You heard the faint warbling of radio frequency, and felt both nervousness and anger at the thought of seeing Alastor.

You rolled off the bed and stomped your way over to the floor, flinging it open and glaring up at him. He simply smiled back down at you, his head tilted questioningly as if he had no clue why you were in such a mood.

His eyes broke from yours and he peered into your room. With a pleased glint in his eye, he brushed past you. You wanted to say something about his intrusion, but you knew it would be useless. So you just followed him in.

“Lucky you!” He said. “I took it upon myself to look into all the rooms, and yours is the only one that is still in such a shape.” You watched as he examined the contents of your room, grabbing up a decoration here and there to look it over before setting it back down.

He sighed, eyes closing as his wide smile closed into a meager grin. “Unsurprisingly that little bayou of mine flooded much worse than everywhere else. As much as it reminds me of home, even I’m not one to sleep in the marsh.” He laughed a little.

Does this guy even sleep, you wondered. You had seen his room once before, and envisioned that marsh in the corner of his room completely overrunning the rest.

“Uh,” You toed the carpet and pursed your lips. You were still a little upset with him, but the idea of him going through the painstaking process of looking through every room in the hotel made it more reasonable for him to disappear earlier. “I mean, you could… stay with me. Tonight. Just tonight. Everything should be fine tomorrow, but I don’t want you without a bed. You know.” You rambled.

You and Alastor had gotten close over the past year, a little closer than he was with anybody else, but you avoided thinking too hard about your relationship. You worried that overthinking would cause you to accidentally overstep a boundary and you would lose the progress you’ve built getting to know him. You were worried about doing just that even as the offer tumbled from your mouth.

You watched as his teeth began to peek through his lips as his smile widened. There was something in his expression that you couldn’t quite place. Pride, maybe? Accomplishment? You weren’t sure. You didn’t have much time to consider it before his smile composed and he remained unreadable.

“How bold of you,” His voice cooed, the static that surrounded him buzzing louder as his face got closer to you. You swallowed back a lump that had formed at the proximity. “Inviting a man into your room. It’s rather unbecoming of a lady like yourself.”

“I-” Your face grew hot.

“I’m joking!” He interrupted you, leaning himself away and back in a laugh. He waved his hand at you while you frowned. You hated the way he lived off of teasing and embarrassing.

“Okay, nevermind then!” You folded your arms and stuck your nose to the side and in the air. His laughter paused and he looked back down at you. Heat still burned on your cheeks and ears.

He examined you for an uncomfortably long period of time. You had your eyes squeezed shut and you upheld your attitude in the silence for as long as you could before the prickling of radio static on your skin became too uncomfortable. You peeked open one eye to look, and immediately got nervous.

He was just standing there. Just staring with his sinister red eyes. It didn’t help that he was quite taller than you. Looming and staring. Probably the worst combination, especially with that buzzing of his.

You felt like an open book, way too vulnerable under his gaze. You lowered your head to look at nothing in particular by your feet.

“So… yes or no…” You said, taking back your earlier statement. “You can have the bed, of course. I’ll just… find a blanket for the floor or something.” If there’s anything dry, you added to yourself.

His expression broke from concentration, lifting immediately into a gleeful, toothy grin. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and guided you to the bed.

“Won’t be necessary!” He cheered. He pulled at the covers and pushed you down gently. Or, well, gently by Alastor’s standards. You still bounced upon impact. You sat there, a bit dazed with confusion as you watched him cross to the other side of the room and tuck himself under the same sheets.

“Alastor- Hey, really, I don’t mind-” He put a finger up to your lips, dramatically shutting you up. You decided to listen.

“What’s a sleepover between two close friends!” He said gleefully. You couldn’t help but let the term ‘friends’ echo in your mind as you fiddled with your thumbs.

Silence filled the room again, but after a while it became more comfortable than awkward. The sound of radio frequencies had died down a little. You refused to look at him. The clock ticked faintly in the corner.

You nearly jumped out of your skin when you felt clawed fingers grab into your shoulder and pull you closer to the Radio Demon. You aided the movement by using your hands to scoot towards him.

Again, you had become close with him over the year, but you never took too long to consider just what you were. You always waited for him to make any move, because otherwise he might completely reject you. So, when he made the decision to bring you closer, you happily obliged, albeit a little anxiously.

You gingerly put your head against his chest, listening to the thrum of his heart. Or what might be a heart. Who knows. You held in a laugh when you realized that even that had some sort of radio-like sound to it. Nonetheless, it did help lull you out of any nerves you had being so close and intimate to Alastor.

You lifted yourself off of him with an elbow and looked at him. He was already looking at you, unsurprisingly, so your eyes met his. They were glowing a little, you noticed.

His face still had a grin, but it was light. And comfortable. His eyebrows were relaxed as he just watched you.

Your heart was beating uncomfortably fast, and you were embarrassed to think that he might be able to feel it with how close your chest was to his.

If he did, he made no indication of it. He just kept looking at you with the strangest expression you’ve ever seen on him. It was gentle. His words from earlier played in your mind again; when he called you and him ‘friends.’

Did ‘friends’ look at each other like this?

Did ‘friends’ inch closer to each other as they stared into the others’ eyes, bodies flush against one another and legs beginning to tangle?

Your jaw clenched and unclenched as you neared him, and you frantically examined him for even the smallest hint of wanting you to stop. You swore he was leaning in too, though.

You felt his breath brush against your nose. Your heart was practically clawing itself out of your ribs and the elbow you had propped yourself up on grew wobbly with nerves. When Alastor’s eyes began to shut, ever so slowly, you followed suit.

And, for an incredibly brief moment, your lips touched his. One, two, maybe three seconds passed before he pulled away from you. You opened your eyes to watch his expression grow a bit puzzled. His smile was tight, and his brows furrowed slightly as he watched you. He seemed deep in thought, with what exactly you couldn’t guess, but he didn’t seem uncomfortable.

At some point his hand had come and was gingerly settled on your hip, which he used to pull you back down. Your elbow practically gave out and you fell a little rough back down on his chest. You couldn’t help but stare widely at the wall for a moment, just listening to his heartbeat again. Was it beating faster than before?

You smiled lightly. You had no idea if this was a step forward in your relationship with the Radio Demon, or if it would be back to ‘friends’ tomorrow, but you decided to just cross your fingers. You reached your arms up to wrap under his neck, and you slowly made yourself comfortable. He had lightly settled his own arms on your back.

You couldn’t help but send silent thanks to that aggressive fish demon from earlier, and a thanks to god himself, as strained as your opinions towards that guy was, for keeping your bed dry.

When Alastor began drawing shapes in your back, gently dragging his sharp nail across your clothed skin, you cast away all worries about the next day out of your head. It all seemed so far away now as you took in the smell of the demon laying underneath you.

You just hoped this would become a regular thing, because man, was this comfortable.

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

A Warm Bed (sequel)

#alastor #☀️#hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #fluff #people love these bedtime oneshots lol #me too #i get it #ohdeerfully

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supercap2319 · 2 years

Text

This is Chaos Magic, Y/N, Wanda. And that makes you... The Scarlet Warlock/ Scarlet Witch.

#x male reader #male reader insert #male x male #mcu universe #mcu scarlet witch #wanda maximoff #young maximoff sibling #chaos magic #harbingers of chaos #marvel’s cinematic universe

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deadghosy · 3 months

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Mommy long legs reader or slender man reader x Hazbin hotel 🌚🌝

AHHHH I LOVE YOU MY GHOST ANONNNN! SLENDERMAN?? YOU FINNA BRING OUT MY CREEPYPASTA PHASEE🦆✨💗‼️‼️‼️

HAZBIN HOTEL X SLENDERMAN! READER

prompt: a faceless creature of the height of 10’5 (or 7’9 idk I got two different heights from safari lol) came to hell to serve one final purpose…get a damn job.

Two words, scary tall…

So say your height was 10’5…

SHIT GON GET WICKEEDDDD!!!

Okay so I can see Charlie being scared staring at you as you just sit like a nice gentleman as your body doesn’t fit the whole seat… (y’know what, let’s go with 7’9…) you told Charlie you use to be a leader before you somehow came to this wrenched place

Charlie felt bad and gave you a job here so yon can stay. But she was confused when you said “somehow”’ as if you didn’t die as a Human…WAIT A MINUTE..DID YOU JUST TALK WITHOUT A MOU-

Lucifer looked up at you and was like….“What in the fucking nine circles…” and you two became friends because of how Lucifer put accessories on you like a Christmas tree

Y’know how people make slenderman wear reading glasses sometimes? That’s you. 😭 with your blind ass LMAOO (I also wear glasses dw…) But I can see you wear the glasses and residents be so confused because…you don’t have eyes for Christ out loud-

“Fuck you wearin' glasses for?” Husk said to you once as he caught you even reading a book…now he was more confused. “I’m reading…” “…..okay..” husk was so done with this buffoonery as you had no mouth and eyes. But yet you could still read, see, and fuckin talk? Yeah he must be drunk as hell itself…

You treat niffty just like how fanon slenderman treats Sally. That’s how I headcannon it.

I headcannon you to be the fanon version of slenderman rather the cannon version. Cause you being the fanon version is just sweet considering the chaos that can happen in the hotel and how you treat niffty.

I can see people thinking you are a new overlord as you had a stern aura around yourself as you had a proper straight walk as you held a high chin not showing any weaknesses.

“Woah….did you see that sinner get lit in flames…” “yeah I did.” It got so quiet so quick as angel gave you a confused face as you just stood there. 😭 Angel couldn’t tell if you were being fr or being a smartass

You were just sleeping on the couch, dead ass like a passed out beer dad after watching football. And fat nuggets sat in your lap sleeping. Then angel came and slept by you, then husk, then niffty, AND THEN EVERYONE JOINED 😭 big ass family cuddle💗💗🦆

You deadass could be the bodyguard of the hotel as you could escort a sinner who is trying to be an ass to the staff and you’re just like, “YEET!” And boom they are thrown away

You and Alastor definitely bond the most as you two got black tentacles. It’s just for Alastor it’s based on his powers when he uses his magic. But for you, it’s just your appearance as you use them to pierce your enemies. But mostly you use them when you are too bored to pick up objects with your hands

BIGGG headcannon that when slenderman do that static thingy, for you it clouds their vision and hearing as you make them pass out. Either to death or just to knock them out.

Lol I can imagine the whole creepypasta mansion going crazy while you drink tea like “this is fine” as you are in some other universe- 😭 crossover type shit

Like Drowned Ben is spam texting your phone like, “slender. slender. Help. Slendy. Octopus. Father. Help help.. help JeFF STABBED ME!”

And your tall ass is just sleeping as everything is going soooo peaceful in the hotel.

While we are at that, EJ definitely was using a book to try and to summon you with sally behind him hugging her teddy to see you again. Meanwhile Jeff was chasing Ben as he goes through a tv to hide from Jeff.

I imagine people in the hotel would hug you except for Alastor as he hates touch. But the people would dead ass hug you as one of your tentacles hold them.

You picked up angel, niffty , Charlie and Vaggie with your four tentacles as you read a book. It was a funny but cute sight as Charlie was like “:p” while the others had a cartoony ass expression or a blank one which is definitely Vaggie and husk

Adam and Lute definitely glanced at each other confused at what the fuck you were as you didn’t have a demonic or angelic aura. But you had some type of power in you. It was weird asf as you just stood there like “🧍🏾am I ugly?” They just kept staring at you

I can see you having the same expression as the picture above when you met pentious as you and Alastor was having tea just chilling with the hellish weather.

“Do you know that guy?” “I have no idea who that pest is my dear friend.” Alastor says with his usual smile as he hands you a cookie.

Just straight up tea times with Alastor is so peaceful as Alastor was kinda suspicious when you didn’t say anything if he ate a cannibalism meal. But I mean…slenderman! Reader is use to people being a cannibal.

The vees are definitely intrigued with who the hell you are and how powerful are you as you were the talk of pentagram city when you first came.

I headcannon a sinner tried to cut off your tentacles only to be grabbed by one of them and slammed to the ground. You just stood there and let static ring loudly in their head to the point it exploded.

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chuluoyi · 6 months

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I'm thinking about Megumi's sister, who went to magic school with him. who was trained by Gojo. who fell in love with Gojo. who dared to confess her feelings to him. and which Satoru rejected, saying that he was too old for her

it doesn't have to be something obscene… so if you like this idea, then please write something!

belong with me

- gojo satoru x reader

the strongest sorcerer is your savior. you know he is far from your reach... but is it so wrong to love him—after the years you spent by his side?

genre/warnings: angst to fluff, a bit slow burn, reader pining on gojo, mentions of injury, comfort

notes: omg omg i actually really like this idea!! i had wanted to write this since you sent this ask but i was struggling with the setting, so i tweaked minor things so that it’ll fit the canon timeline—reader is megumi’s cousin rather than sister.

and *sigh* it somehow turned out into a 4k+ word🤧

series masterlist | oneshot masterlist

What is Gojo Satoru to you?

If asked that, Megumi would definitely say that he owed both of your lives and his sister’s to him. Following the chaos too complicated for you to understand that left the three of you orphaned at the age of six, Gojo Satoru, who were just barely an adult himself then, was the one who stepped in to take all of you in.

But to you, he was more than just that. He was many things. Your savior, mentor, friend, and... you daresay, first love.

And because of that, you would never thought that there’d come a time when your heart was really broken by him.

At first, Gojo Satoru felt like a big brother to you. Megumi was suspicious of him since the very beginning—his skepticism was funny sometimes—but you and Tsumiki weren’t as much.

He easily became your friend. You would laugh for hours to end after he cracked the stupidest or lamest of jokes. He made the fact that curses exist and that you were somehow able to keep them at bay more bearable.

And when Tsumiki fell into her curse… Gojo was there to bring you comfort.

“Why isn’t she waking up?” Your hands were shaking as you frantically poked and nudged your kind cousin from her peaceful slumber at the hospital bed. The smell was suffocating—the sight was unbearable. Tsumiki was supposed to be bouncing up and keeping both you and Megumi at bay, not lifelessly lying here like this.

Facing Gojo, who had a tight-lipped expression beside you, you pleaded, "Gojo-sensei—" your glassy eyes welled up, voice choked with tears, "—make her wake up, please..."

And that was the first time he broke your heart. Even the strongest couldn’t lift this cruel curse posed upon your kind sister.

Your throat tightened, choked with painful whimpers as tears flowed uncontrollably. Sudden grief overwhelmed you, making you sway and shake like a leaf. At first, you didn’t notice how a pair of warm hands enveloped you, drawing you close for comfort.

Gojo allowed you to cry against him while you pounded on his chest. Not a word came out of his lips, a telltale sign that he was taking the situation seriously—something you, above anyone else, understood well.

From then on—ever since the tragedy that befell Tsumiki, it seemed like Gojo became even more protective of you but stricter with Megumi. The two of you eventually pursued the path of jujutsu, driven by one wishful thinking in mind—the possibility to break Tsumiki’s curse.

Encountering Gojo became a daily routine when you lived at the dormitory as a first year at Jujutsu High. He frequently dropped by just to greet you, or give you some things he got from his missions.

"Here," Gojo handed you the package of a popular kikufuku store. With that blindfold on and a shit-eating grin split his face, he actually looked so ridiculous. "I got you all their available flavors! Trust me, you'll like them!"

Against your own will, you felt rosy blush spreading across your cheeks. "Oh, thank you... I'll give some to Megumi as well, he's been working hard lately..."

"Ehh?" he pursed his lips. "No, no, no—they're for you! Don't give them to that emo kid!"

There was absolutely nothing significant about how he worded it. You were well aware of that—only a fool wouldn't be.

So why are you so giddy? Hah, why do you feel like you're... special?

"Don't call him emo," you chided, trying to suppress your smile.

"But he is! He's always grouchy with me without reason!"

Throughout your childhood, and now as you were entering adulthood yourself, Gojo's presence in your life still felt like a comforting, warm blanket—a dependable presence you could rely on, someone you could trust completely.

And apparently, someone you had unwittingly given your heart to.

It was a gradual process. You didn't fall for him at first sight or anything of the sort—it took years of being under his protection. Even as you watched him pursue one girl after another from the sidelines, you couldn't deny it—your heart was already his since then.

He always knew what to say, how to cheer you up.

"What's got you so down, huh?" Gojo asked, tousling your hair gently as you slouched. "Is it because of earlier? Don't be so down, you're doing great."

You fidgeted with your fingers, feeling the sting of failure twisting your gut. "I held everyone back, sensei. That's not great at all."

In the last mission, you nearly put Yuji and Nobara's lives in danger. You had taken the initiative to step into the cursed room, and had it not been for Megumi who came to your rescue, any one of you could have sustained significantly more severe injuries.

Gojo offered you a lopsided smile. "You couldn't have known that. Don't beat yourself up so much. The most important thing is that all of you are safe."

"But we might not, all because of my daring ass."

"Look."

He squatted to meet your eye level, and it dawned on you that he wasn't wearing that blindfold. "The fact is that everyone is good. And no, even if Megumi wasn't there, you wouldn't have been doomed. I would have been there, I always have, yeah?"

He was truly a sight, with that sparkling eyes even more so when he smiled unabashedly, voice not as playful as his tone usually was.

"That doesn't make me feel better," you replied, forcing out the words even as you were somewhat awestruck. "It doesn't change the fact that I'm inadequate."

"You're a first year," Gojo pointed out. "Everyone is bound to make mistakes. You just have to learn from them."

"In our line of work, those mistakes can cost us lives." You chewed your lip, looking down. "I—I don't want to be responsible for someone's death."

Your words left Gojo momentarily speechless. His blue eyes blinked several times as though he was taken aback, and you felt even more small—you had just revealed your deepest fear to him.

But suddenly, he laughed right in your face, prompting you to shoot him a glare. Just as you were about to retort, he rested his palm on your head.

"Do you seriously think I will allow that to happen?" Gojo queried with a wide grin and snarky tone. "To you, out of everyone else?"

You gazed at him in a daze, feeling self-conscious with his warm hand on your head. He'd likely done this a hundred times already, but you could never get past the sensation of his gentle touch on your skin. You yearned for more—for him to cradle your face, to caress you, to draw you closer—

“The obvious answer is, I won't,” he declared so surely, exuding unwavering confidence. You blinked, marveling at how his words made your heart soar and your breath catch. “So stop thinking about scary things. I'm here, remember?”

How was there a person who was such a perfect blend of the man of your dreams—smug, but also funny, caring and strong, like Gojo Satoru was?

Was it a sin to harbor these feelings for him? He has always been kind to you, and if you daresay it, fond of you as well. Is there a possibility—

Really, you should have known your boundaries.

"I think..."

And yet your heart screamed, for whatever it's worth—

"...I love you..."

Why couldn't you see that this was doomed right from the start?

"—Gojo-sensei."

You were breathless. Your wildly thumping heart drowned out almost everything else. Your hands were sweaty, and you braved yourself to meet his eyes.

And when you did, you knew heartbreak for the second time—

The way his smile faltered a bit, yet he forced it upwards, perhaps to spare your feelings.

Just as he always has. Ever since he rescued you back then, he would do these silly things so you would feel better.

"I'm flattered, you know?" Gojo gazed at you genially. "But I think—"

"You don't understand." What am I even insisting? "I... like you so much, Gojo-sensei. All this time."

It was supposed to be your final card. Baring everything to him. How grateful you were that he took you in, the kindness he showed you, Megumi and Tsumiki, those sleepless nights after Tsumiki fell into coma that he spent with you, sharing shaved ice on the hottest, cruelest summer...

"You're almost half my age," he stated matter-of-factly, and a sinking feeling settled in your stomach. "You're mistaking love for admiration. That's it."

"No! I know how I feel—"

"You should find someone your age," Gojo added while maintaining his smile. "There are good guys out there. Toge is nice—ah, but his cursed technique might be a little troublesome. Yuji is earnest and honest..."

You have never thought that there’d come a time where your heart was really broken by him. But he just did, as he listed all your friends without any regard to your feelings.

Suddenly, a wave of resentment surged within you, prompting you to hiss and cut him off.

"You're always like this," your eyes had started to well up with tears, but you ignored it. His puzzled expression only fueled your frustration.

"I hate how you constantly treat me like a child!"

You felt ashamed, but in hindsight you should've probably expected this. You didn't have anyone else to blame but yourself. You knew it wasn't fair to lay the blame on Gojo like now—he was merely on the receiving end of the brunt of your heartbreak.

You hated this. You hated yourself. And you couldn't help but to hate him too, despite knowing that you shouldn't.

With that, you dashed away, tucking away your first love to the furthermost part of your heart, swearing that you'd never, ever revisit that chapter of your life again.

Ain't that just the worst thing to hear?

Witnessing your tear-streaked face as you hurried past him left him stunned, rooted in place.

In no way was Gojo Satoru going to romance his own student. You were quite literally his protege and his other protege’s sister. That was simply out of the question. Not that he was the model of propriety, but even he knew that was not right.

And it didn’t have anything to do with the fact whether he did see you as a woman or not, because even if he did, it shouldn’t make a difference.

Right? It won’t change anything.

Because it was how it was supposed to be.

It was probably one of the forms of tantrum—or whatever it was labeled—in the end, it was simply a reaction to not achieving what you wanted.

For years, Gojo had shielded you and Megumi from the Zen’in clan. They were horrible people, and you were eternally grateful that Gojo went to great lengths for you, always swatting them away before they could get close to either of you.

Now that you thought about it, who they really wanted was Megumi. Your cousin held the quintessential Zen'in talent, while your modest Projection Sorcery wasn't particularly rare among the clan. Still, they sought you as well, merely to bolster their prestige with another member.

Normally, you wouldn't think such things. But you weren't in the best state of mind, muddled by your blind heartbreak. It skewed your mindset to one of the extremes.

And then you got this terrifyingly brilliant idea—what if you turned yourself to them? Surely the Zen’in would be sated for a while and stop bugging Megumi.

And you didn’t have to see Gojo as often too.

This went against everything he had done to ensure your safety. But that was the first thing that entered your mind when Zen’in Naoya accosted you by chance.

"We're family," he stated with a smirk, sending a shiver down your spine, an unsettling feeling washing over you. "We wouldn't harm you. Why waste your time being Gojo's little errand girl, huh?"

This was easier, or at least that was the illusion you attempted to persuade yourself with.

Naoya left with you with a meaningful "Think about it."

And the more you thought about it, the more you leaned towards the scenario you had thought to be unimaginable before—leaving Gojo behind.

Two months had passed since then, and it was time for the Kyoto Goodwill Exchange event. Gojo remembered this being one of the most exciting moments during his youth, and he sincerely wished that you would have fun too, even with all that had been going on between you.

He knew he was the one who said Yuji would be good. But he wanted to backtrack when he saw him getting punched by Todo. Nah, Yuji was too stupid, he wouldn’t want that for your match. Must be someone else… who was stronger, better.

And then he was even more beside himself when he saw you with Mechamaru.

Like really? That tin soldier? You could definitely have someone more human. He surely didn’t approve of the sight of you getting friendly with that suspicious scrap of metal!

"Hah," he grumbled to himself. Was it just him or were young boys these days simply too subpar?

Yuji is too risky, after all, he is also Sukuna's vessel. Todo... no way, he can crush you with one hand... Panda is a panda...

As if the roster wasn't bad enough, he was met with the most bewildering sight.

Never would have Gojo thought that someway or another, he would see you with that obnoxious Zen'in spawn who called himself the heir.

Before he could grasp his actions, he stomped right into the midst of where the two of you were—

. . .

You were a step away from agreeing to a whole load of new mess, until wind got knocked out of your lungs as you were harshly yanked from behind—

—and the next thing you knew, a broad back was in front of you.

“What do you want?” a low voice, almost foreign to your ears. But this man before you was Gojo Satoru himself, just way sterner than he usually was.

You were caught off guard by his tight grip on your wrist, his dark gaze fixed on the Naoya.

“Ah, don't be like that, please.” Naoya dismissed with a wave of his hand. "I'm just saying that it's been too long already for you to play the benefactor. She ought to be with the family, where she rightfully belongs."

Gojo seemed to grow more imposing, his sneer deepening. "And by family you mean you?"

The atmosphere grew tense as the exchange between them continued, each word laden with underlying tension.

"Hah, Gojo-sama, you really think you're so high and mighty, don't you? I'll have you know that she, and by extension, the Fushiguro boy, are Zen'ins. No matter how—"

Naoya's words seemed to falter as Gojo's presence intensified. There was this thick electricity in the air, and you almost shuddered when he spat, "Leave."

He couldn't possibly murder another great clan's heir, no matter how much he might have been able to. It would incite a strife that would make his eyes hurt. He just had to scare him off.

And he did. Naoya went with his tail tucked behind him, and that was one problem taken care of. Now Gojo just had one other thing to deal with—

"What were you thinking?" he asked, his tone sharp and accusing, before he even properly faced you. "Since when did you start meeting up with him?"

You hadn’t talked to him ever since your botched confession, but with the way it seemed, he was acting quite normal. It irked you.

"That's hardly your business," you retorted with a hiss.

Your responses seemed to grate him. "Oh? What do you mean it's not?"

"He is right, isn't he? I'm a Zen'in. There is no need for you to go out of your way to keep me under your wing. I can always go back to them."

"Are you—" His frustration was evident and it was quite possibly the first time you saw him direct this at you. "You can't go to them—"

"Sure," you mocked, wrenching your wrist away from his grasp. "I'm telling you, I'm not a child, Gojo-sensei. Please stop telling me what should and I should not do."

"That's not what I'm getting at. I've told you how horrible that place is, your place definitely isn't there."

"And? Where should I be?" you huffed challengingly. "Please, don't tell me that it's your cue to say that it's by your side. Because both of us know it's not."

Gojo didn't know what frustrated him more, the fact that you somehow fell into whatever it was that Naoya had whispered to your ear or how bratty you were being right now. Unwittingly, he let his own pettiness slip out, "You know what? You're being quite childish right now."

He convinced himself that, having practically raised you, he was entitled to have a say in major decisions in your life. He wouldn't let the Zen'in take Megumi away, let alone you.

Your face went scarlet with repressed anger. "So be it then."

With that, you stalked away, and just like how you went away from him the first time, Gojo could only stare at you in silence.

How had your relationship with him turned this sour? Was it the wrong thing to not acknowledge your confession before? He sincerely thought you would realize the implications behind your own words and snap out of that ideal version of him you had in mind—because he knew best that he wasn’t made for this.

Girls your age must want a taste of young love. He understood that, but it couldn’t be with him. It had to be someone else.

He resumed his musings earlier before he found you out with Naoya. And he finally came to a conclusion, that Yuta was the best match. Shame he was still away somewhere in Africa.

When Yuta got back, he would introduce him to you. Yuta was strong, kind, and he wouldn’t hurt you. And it would do him good too to have someone who cares about him.

Gojo Satoru never made flawed judgements. He knew this was the best approach, and yet why was there still this stifling feeling in his gut… at the idea of you being with someone—god forbid—who isn't him?

Not long after, a sinking feeling gnawed at him at the chaotic mess surrounding the Kyoto Goodwill event.

At first Gojo thought it was the standard worry. He chalked it up to all of his students were trapped inside this curtain that specifically forbid him to enter. Naturally, he would worry for his students; after all, he was their teacher.

But when he saw you fell on your knees with what seemed like a stem of cursed flower perched on your chest, he knew it was something else.

You were gasping for breath, clutching your chest in pain while Panda supported your weakened form, and seeing you like that apparently was too much for him. For the first time, Gojo regretted his decision. He shouldn't have pursued the enemy first. He should have gone to you first.

His instinct took over as he swiftly tore you away from Panda’s arms, drawing you close to his chest. His mind went blank, but he forced himself to focus on you, on what was causing you pain. "Y/N, calm down—"

"It hurts—!" you whimpered, digging your nails into his arm tightly, tears streaming down your face. "It hurts so much... I-I..."

For Gojo, this was a form of torture he hadn't realized before. For him, seeing you smile should have been the default, not this sobbing, injured, vulnerable state you were in now.

"I'll take you to Shoko. You'll be fine," he murmured decisively into your ear as you slumped against him. His grip around you tightened, and he repeated, "You'll be fine, I promise."

In the midst of your foggy mind, a realization struck—this was the second time you were ever held in his arms. And much like the first time, you felt an overwhelming sense of security.

Ah, but he had rejected you. You should know your place. You really should because pining on someone who didn't want you wasn't a wise thing to do.

But just this once...

Stupid. You were stupid indeed.

Because you chose to bask in this very short fantasy, fervently wishing that the heavens would grant you this sweet dream of him holding you in his arms like just this for a little longer.

As Gojo quietly observed you resting after being tended by Shoko, numerous thoughts swirled through his mind.

"I hate how you constantly treat me like a child!"

That was not true. He didn't mean to treat you like a child, because you were indeed not. You were a grown woman now, no longer the crying child consoled by Tsumiki and protected by Megumi as you were back then.

Once, you were this young bud he was meant to nurture into strength, but now despite himself, he saw you more as a woman rather than his protege. He wanted to see you bloom into this pretty girl he had always known you were, always innocent and protected—and a selfish part of himself would add: preferably by himself.

You were so serene. You looked so soft too as you laid there. Gojo thought this wasn't quite right and he couldn't quite get the image of you screaming in pain out of his peripheral thoughts.

Had he truly fallen? This strong urge to protect you, ensure your happiness, see you always smiling—it was as if these emotions were suddenly planted, but immediately establishing themselves like deep-rooted feelings that wouldn't fade away easily.

No, actually... who was he kidding? It was what he had kept to himself for a while now. He just refused to acknowledge these feelings out of the misguided sense of propriety.

It was all he could think of from the moment you passed out until you awakened. He pasted a smile on his face when you opened your eyes to his face.

"Ah, Gojo-sensei..." you mumbled, still disoriented. The way you looked at him was as if you were spooked, to say the least, and it bugged him. "Sorry, how long have I passed out?"

"Just a few hours. Are you okay? Do you still feel the pain?"

"Uh... a bit, but I'm okay..."

Normally, he never seemed to run out of things to talk about with you. This was too obvious. You were uncomfortable with him, and he noticed it.

You also seemed acutely aware of this immensely awkward situation. Having spent the majority of your life with him, you used to be open and at ease around him. But now, it wasn't the same. All because of your reckless confession before.

You spent the first few hours with occasional silence. Eventually, Gojo stepped away for a while, leaving behind a lingering sense of discomfort instilled within you.

You remembered the feeling of being in his arms. Once again, he saved you. The least you could do is to express your gratitude.

I don’t like this. It had been two months already. You had to put an end to this unbearable tension. You couldn't force him to return your feelings—you understood that now. And to make it to the way it used to be, you had to make it clear to Gojo too.

And so when he was back to your room, you braved yourself again. For the second and last time.

"Gojo-sensei," you breathed out, willing your shaky hands at bay. "I'm sorry to make you uncomfortable. Please forget what I said before."

What is this now? Gojo blinked, stopping right in his tracks, somehow hearing how you started with a "sorry" didn't sit well with him.

You continued. "Maybe you are right. I'm grateful for you, I look up to you... for the longest time, I might even have idolized you."

Wait...

"But it isn't love," you said with finality, looking away. "This is me admiring you, for all things you have done for me. And even if it is, I still can't force you to look at me in that way."

Gojo could only gaze at you in silence, a storm raging inside his chest. This was what he had hoped you would realize when you confessed your feelings back then, but now—

"I don't like how... we are now," you gulped. "And it's my fault. So I'm taking it back—"

“No, just—” This wasn’t right. Gojo knows it, but why is he saying this? “Just wait for a minute.”

You started as someone he wanted to protect, along with Megumi and Tsumiki. And then you grew up right in front of his eyes. Someone like you, who had gone through many horrors in life ever since young should have someone dependable and strong who could make you happy.

But then Gojo thought, he didn’t like how others looked at you. Heck, in his eyes, they were inadequate for you, if anything.

“Sensei?” you looked up to him with that doe eyes of yours, and Gojo Satoru felt like this was enough.

To hell with you finding someone your age.

He was strong—the strongest, and if it’s him, he most definitely could protect you far better than anyone.

He could make you laugh—had been for years already, and nothing would stop him now.

He would be damned should you somehow go to the grubby hands of the Zen’in.

“Keep your eyes on me,” his somber voice said then, causing your heart to skip a beat in response.

In short, he was better-suited for you more than anyone else ever could, in every possible aspect.

Apparently he was right. Your place was by his side, after all.

“…because from now, I might start looking at you too.”

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