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papergirllife · 3 years

Text

Lee Jeno

'You ease Jeno's frustrations during a late night recording session."

Warnings : unprotected sex, cockwarming, generally quite fluffy.

Word count : 1.8k

You were in your pajamas at 1 a.m. in the morning, still in the company because your boyfriend is trying to record the best version of his verse in the recording booth a few feet away, his black denim jacket draped across your chest to shield you from the cold.

You were going through your own lyrics, making a few changes here and there to make sure the flow of the song suits you, working in a low volume to avoid disturbing Jeno, who was already getting antsy from this certain verse.

When you were done, you placed the pencil on the desk and got up from your seat, walking to the booth where Jeno had his handsome face in a frown.

“You okay, Jeno? Aren’t you cold in here?” you asked as you took his jacket off of you, draping it back onto his broad shoulders.

“I'm feeling fine, you should use it,” Jeno said shortly before he takes it off, putting it onto you again.

“But you're just in a tank, and you have to perform on stages very soon, you can't catch a cold,” you argued before trying to take it off once more, only to be stopped by Jeno’s hands.

“I'm fine, you're the one who's sensitive to the cold, I don't want you to get sick because of me, I didn't ask for you to be here with me, and still you showered and came back here to be with me, I'm sorry for eating up our time, I know I promised to have a night in with you,” Jeno said with a sad tinge to his usually cheerful eyes before reaching out for you, embracing you into his warmth.

“I know how important this comeback is for you, I wanted to stay here with you because I'm stubborn and that's on me, not you,” you said before turning your body to tuck yourself closer into Jeno, giving his bicep a quick peck before burying your head into his neck, the familiar scent of cologne filling your lungs.

Jeno let's out a chuckle at this odd but familiar action, you started doing this since the day Jeno had started working out on his arms more, every little thing he does you’d always be proud of it, which is why you're so different from everyone else, Jeno feels safe with you, the fact that the both of you absolutely adore each other irks his members out, but he doesn’t care, not when he only has eyes for you.

“I love you,” Jeno said without hesitation, it's always been like this for the two of you, saying these three words whenever you felt like it, communication between the two of you has always been good, though it hasn't always been like this.

There was a time at the beginning of the relationship where Jeno only knew how to show his love through actions, fearing that it may seem too pushy if he constantly speaks up about his emotions, being a guy and all, but your reassurance of loving to hear everything he has to say, as well as those doe eyes of yours that always have a hundred percent focus on him, had given him a sense of comfort, and so he now speaks whatever that comes to mind when he's with you, most often 'I love yous', it could be in the morning when you wake up, or moments like this where there are uncertainties in his head, you’re his rock.

“I love you too, Jeno,” you said it back before pulling away slightly to kiss him, pulling him closer again by looping your hands around his nape, playing with the strands of hair there as you bit on his bottom lip gently before feeling a sudden grip on your hip, a gasp falling from your lips just to give Jeno the opportunity to dominate the kiss, getting you right where he wanted you to be, under his control.

Jeno tasted like the chocolate mint balls he was having just now, a mixture of sweet chocolate and invigorating mint clouding your senses, the taste so addictive that you licked at his tongue just to taste more, but soon Jeno pulled away, noticing that you were running out of breath, your forehead lolled against his, a sign that he was all too familiar with.

“Slow down, baby, what's got you so worked up?” Jeno asked as he peppers kisses down your neck sloppily, he knows he can't mark you without your manager lecturing you, so he'll just have to manoeuvre himself to the valley of your breasts, popping open the buttons of your pajamas to reveal that you've worn a set that had no padding, the tips of your nipples would've been obvious it weren't for how loose your shirt was.

“Remember the last time we fucked in here? You had a writer’s block for stronger and 119, I want to be your muse again, Jen,” you reminded him as you trailed your hand at the hem of his tank, palming his abs that you go crazy over, you must be the luckiest girl ever, to find a guy who’s as hot as he’s talented in his career, not to mention the sinful things he does with those dancer hips.

Jeno chuckled at that fond memory, recalling Jaemin’s horrid expression when he found the two of you in such a state.

“You do know that this is ANL right?” gesturing at the lyrics on the stand.

“Which is a highly suggestive yet quite a fluffy song, we have to set the mood in order for you to actually gain some inspiration, no?” you said before you pulled off his shirt, throwing it somewhere behind you.

“Greedy aren't you?” Jeno said as he tips your chin higher to get a good look at you in the dim lights, admiring your swollen lips and the lust in your eyes, all because of him.

“Well, you can't pen my name down for these songs, the least you can do is give me a good fuck to remember it by,” you said with those seductive eyes of yours looking into his hooded ones before reaching down his pants, a jolt from his cock at your freezing hands.

“Whatever my baby wants, whatever she gets am I right?” Jeno said before manoeuvring you to your back facing his, letting your ass feel his hard on.

You placed your hands on the stool that Jeno previously sat in, arching your back for him to easily access the situation.

Jeno pulls your sweats and panties down hanging them onto the stand, you purse your lips at the sight, hoping that none of your arousal gets onto the surface, but before you could make up your mind whether to tell Jeno to place your clothing somewhere else, Jeno had spread your folds with two fingers, a hand coming up to swipe at your slit teasingly before pinching your clit lightly in between his thumb and index finger, combing a moan out of you, legs jolting at the sudden pleasure, you were always sensitive there.

“Fuck, baby, I barely touched you and you’re dripping wet, didn't know you were this worked up,” Jeno said by your ear, his voice a few octaves lower.

Jeno enters two fingers in one go, making you buckle your knees at the sudden intrusion, not expecting it so soon, the feeling of his rough finger pads reaching deep into you, searching for that one spot, and when he found it, it felt like the first taste of heaven, a whimper falling from your lips as you held onto the stool harder, preparing for what's to come.

Jeno thrusted his fingers in a moderate pace before sliding in a third, making a scissoring motion to open you up for his large cock.

When he deemed that you were wet enough, Jeno shoved his pants and boxers down to his knees, impatient for the warmth in between your legs.

Jeno positioned himself at your entrance, pushing in an inch before slamming himself into you.

“Fuck, Jeno!” you could feel how full you were now, and how he fits perfectly inside you, his tip dangerously close to your sweet spot, you just need him to move.

“Jeno, you can move now, please,” you begged, breathless as your mind is still registering the feeling of this euphoria.

Jeno clenches his jaw in concentration before pulling out of your sweet pussy slightly, before thrusting back in, starting a quick and shallow pace, the way your warm walls were clenching onto him was making him lightheaded from the immense pleasure, but he knows he has to get his shit together if he wants to actually finish up recording tonight.

Jeno grips onto your hips as he builds up his pace, pistoning his dick inside of you hard and fast as he hears your screams of pleasure, the sound echoing in this small booth, encouraging him to go faster as he gets addicted to this sweet melody.

You held onto the stool for your dear life as you felt the knot in your abdomen slowly unwinding, a sign that you’re nearing your edge.

“I'm gonna cum, Jen, cum with me, please,” you said before purposely clenching onto his dick.

“Fuck, baby, I’m not gonna last any longer if you keep doing that,” Jeno said in one breath, before focusing back onto chasing both your highs, a hand moving to your breasts to pinch your nipples with the perfect amount of pain, he knows how much of a pain slut you are for him, and that was exactly what pushed you over the edge.

You felt your body convulsing as you orgasmed, the knot snapping free as the screams of Jeno’s name tumble from your lips as you let Jeno continue.

Jeno came only a few sloppy thrusts, after you, biting onto your shoulder as he came, giving a few hard thrusts to ride out both your highs, and just so he could bury his cum inside you, letting both your juices mix.

When both of you were done, Jeno moved your limp body expertly on top of his as he took a seat onto the stool, him still inside of you, your head tucked by his left shoulder, picking up where he had left off just now.

“You're right baby, you really are my muse,” Jeno said before humming a tune, then correcting some errors on the sheet.

“Well, good to know I was helpful, now if you'll excuse me, I need to clean up,” you said before trying to get up.

Jeno's left hand grips onto your hips, restricting you from leaving.

“Stay for a bit, I'm finishing up soon, then I'll clean you up, I'm sure you’re too tired to walk now, get some rest,” Jeno said as he pats your head gently, something he does that oddly lulls you to sleep.

“Okay, just don't overwork yourself,” you said before drifting off to sleep on your boyfriend’s shoulder, your very own human pillow.

#nct smut #nct fluff #nct #nct dream #jeno #jeno smut #jeno fluff #lee jeno #nct 127 #wayv #jaemin

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yoonpobs · 3 years

Note

Omg requests are open AAAHHH

may i request an oblivious oc and tsundere yoongi who likes holding oc's hands and idk like maybe oc thinks it's bc his hands are cold and his friends make fun of him and oc only realizes yoongi likes her when they spill his secret

as a yoongi stan, this is my guilty pleasure and this absolutely KILLED ME ily for asking this 🤣and double update today???? who am I?????

hope you enjoy this v fluffy and v yoongi piece <3

pairing: tsundere!yoongi x oblivious&clumsy!oc

genre: FLUFFFFFFFFFFFFF

warnings: lots of squealing into ur pillow moments. taehyung, jimin & jin being the saviours tbh

words: 3, 136

Yoongi is staring at you like you spilt milk over his favourite pair of sneakers and you have no idea what to make of it.

“Uh …” You drag, blinking up at him with wide eyes when all he does is level you with a blank stare.

You can hear the distinct chatter of your friends in the background, likely already having their go skating around the rink. They always left you and Yoongi alone, for whatever reason it may be. But you weren’t complaining, you wanted to give him your gift in private!

But when Yoongi only stares at the mass of knit in your palms as you hold it out to him, you can only feel your ears flush an embarrassing shade of red at the subtle gesture of rejection.

Yoongi was by no means a malicious person, but he was very clear-cut. He was straightforward and it was definitely one of his qualities that you admired the most about him. His ability to mitigate any situation, or look at things objectively was something that you struggled with for the most part of your life. Which is why some people would mistake him for cold or uncaring, but you knew better.

“Do you … do you not like it?” You ask meekly, eyes darting everywhere but his as they continue to stare you down.

Yoongi doesn’t say a word. Instead, he grabs your hands with his larger palm where your gift lays and observes it, scrutinises it as if he’s there to pick apart any stray strand of yarn. His hand, despite his exterior, is soft and gentle when he holds you; and your brain short-circuits for a good five seconds when he traces a thumb over your knuckles.

“It’s cute.” He shrugs.

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion. Your eyes dart down to your hands and somehow you find them in a familiar position. His fingers intertwined with yours and his palm engulfing yours entirely.

“T-Then why don’t you—” You try to pull away, making an effort to dangle your hand-woven mittens in front of him in hopes of attracting his appeal towards it.

But he doesn’t even bat an eye, just sighs and squeezes your hand tighter.

“I’m holding your hand.” He says pointedly, shooting you a serious stare.

You stutter for a response, and despite the chill in the air you hope he can allude to the redness of your cheeks a result of the wind that blows past you and not the flustered state you find yourself in when he tugs your body closer to his.

You suppose you found a bad spot to give him the mittens because you nearly stumble into his chest at how wobbly you are on skates. You planned his gift for weeks, fully aware that your group of friends was intending on coming to ice-skate.

“I’m really bad at ice-skating. I’ll just slow you down.” You huff with a frown, still attempting to tug your hand away.

Yoongi rolls his eyes, “I literally don’t care.”

You gape at his bluntness and scowl when he only offers you a lazy smirk. His hand is still tightly wrapped around your own, and you sigh, knowing that it was hopeless to fight against Yoongi when he was far stronger than you were.

“I can skate with Tae or something, he and I are pretty much—“

“No.” Yoongi blinks.

You splutter, “E-Excuse—?”

He snatches the mittens from your other hand and shoves them into his pocket. The action is so quick that you can barely register the way Yoongi is tugging your forehead as you flounder on your feet, already feeling unstable at the way the ice is set on making you fall.

But Yoongi is there like he always is, and he rests a gentle palm on your waist and shoots you a rare and soft smile that makes your heart weak.

“I’ll teach you.” He says it like it’s obvious, “Just hold my hand.”

“Yoongi, I really don’t think—” You weakly protest when he pulls you closer until you’re nestled comfortably by his side, his face set forward as he blatantly ignores you.

“Stop being so stubborn and hold on tight.” He scolds, squeezing your hand when he feels your fingers loosen its grip.

You pout, your other hand patting your cheek in hopes of easing the burning of your cheeks.

Lest to say, you are horrid at ice-skating and you wished you stayed home.

Your two left feet was probably the least interesting thing about you, yet it was the one thing that left a lasting impression on the people you’ve met. Whether it be because you tripped up a flight of stairs as you rushed to your next lecture, or if you accidentally torpedoed into a bush while you were attempting to penny

“How are you even real?” He huffs, fingers intertwined tightly with your own. You’re grateful he has a lethal grip on you because you don’t think you’re ready to be doused in ice, even if it was at your own accord.

“I’m sorry!” You whine, hand still clasped with his.

Yoongi doesn’t let go, even if you’re stable on your feet. He never does. He only holds your hand tighter, grumbling something about your clumsiness as he uses his spare hand to adjust the strap of his bag over his shoulders. When he shoots you a look, you feel very much like a scolded child as you pout up at his narrowed eyes.

“What would you do if I wasn’t holding your hand, huh?” He laments, eyes rolling while he tugs you towards the direction of your friends who have somehow all gathered at the corner of the rink.

You stare at your feet, tittering to keep up with his long strides as he keeps the hold on your hand firm.

“Look, I don’t ask to be swept away—!” You retort petulantly, but Yoongi completely ignores you as he squeezes your hand in response, right as he stops in front of your friends.

You’re still sulking when Yoongi doesn’t let go, shooting you a look that has you pursing your lips shut.

“Lovely for the two of you to join us,” Jimin snorts.

Yoongi doesn’t say anything, but you miss the lethal glare he shoots at your mutual friend.

“I’m sorry that my skating skills can’t keep up with you,” You huff.

You see Jin’s eyes dart down to your intertwined hands, before looking up; a knowing smirk on his face that you can’t decipher.

“Seems like Yoongi has it all settled.” He snickers, nudging Jimin by the side.

You can feel Yoongi roll his eyes next to you, even if you pout at Jin’s words.

“At this rate, I think you’re basically joined by the hands,” Jimin says smugly.

You blink.

“She’ll fall,” Yoongi says blankly.

“Look, I said I’d skate with Tae but he’s so adamant!” You cry.

Yoongi shoots you a dry glare, before briefly releasing your hand. You splutter for a second, surprised at the sudden coldness that engulfs your grip and the emptiness that you feel when he no longer has his fingers intertwined with your own.

“What—?” You furrow your brows but Yoongi pats you on the hand to ease your confusion.

“I’m getting you hot chocolate. Your hands are freezing.” He murmurs, and to prove his point; he grabs your fingers and rubs soothing circles on your knuckles to provide you with any warmth he could.

If your hands weren’t warm, then your cheeks definitely were. You couldn’t hold eye contact with Yoongi because he was staring at you so intently that you may have been the one to melt into a puddle on the ice.

“But the mittens—!” You call, but he’s already skating away to the confectionary stand where they sell hot chocolate.

You sigh, dejected as you frown. Did he really hate the mittens that much?

“You are so stupid.” Jin gawks at you with a shake of his head.

You turn your head so fast that you nearly fall over, but Jimin’s grip on your wrist prevents you from doing so.

“And clumsy, God, no wonder hyung won’t let you go.” He scolds.

You frown, “Hey! What the hell is up with the slander?” You whine.

Taehyung stumbles into the conversation, quite literally almost smashing his body against the divider but he manages to balance himself by gripping the hell out of Jin’s shoulders.

“You deserve it,” He sticks his tongue out as you gape at him.

“What?! Why?” You hiss, “You literally just entered the conversation!”

Taehyung rolls his eyes, “And I’ve had to see you and hyung doddle around each other for ages so spare me the fucking brain cells because clearly, you need it more than I do.”

“What—?” You splutter.

“You are literally the densest person on this planet.” Jin blinks.

“What are you guys even talking about?” You cry.

Jimin shoots you a dry look, willing the God’s above to give you a semblance of rationality or logic to put two and two together.

“The hand-holding? The constant going out of his way to do things for you? The fact that you’re the only person he’ll ever smile at even if you do the dumbest shit ever?” Taehyung exasperates.

You blink.

“It’s winter and his fingers get really cold—!”

Jin groans, tugging at his hair in frustration.

“No, you idiot! Yoongi literally doesn’t get cold. He’s the human equivalent of a furnace! He literally doesn’t give a shit if he freezes to death. The only reason why he ever holds your hand is that he wants to!” He yells, grabbing you by the shoulder as he shakes your body while you stare up at him with wide eyes.

Does that mean—?

“He hates the mittens?” You cry, face crumbling.

You see Taehyung, Jimin and Jin’s face fall as they all share a look of disbelief.

“I’m sorry but I have no way to defend you.” Jimin blinks.

“I just wanted to do something nice for him! He’s always taking care of me and I thought knitting him a pair of mittens would help with the cold …” You mumble, eyes darting down to your feet as your voice trails off into a whisper.

“Okay, I know I promised hyung I wouldn’t say anything until she figured it out herself but I can’t take it anymore.” Taehyung seethes to the other boys.

Your eyes dart up, furrowing in confusion as Jimin and Jin’s eyes widen at Taehyung’s statement.

“Figured what—?”

“Dude, Yoongi is going to kill you,” Jin warns.

Taehyung scoffs, “Like I give a shit. I’m losing brain cells listening to her speak so this is an act of self-preservation. He’s going to thank me and so are you.”

“What are you—?” You huff.

“Yoongi likes you!” He exasperates, throwing his hands into his air.

The silence is overwhelming, as the four of you simply blink at each other. Your brain is processing his words, but it doesn’t really make sense. You’re confused as you attempt to deduce the meaning behind it until you come to a conclusion—

You look over at Jimin, “Are the two of you—?”

Jimin wants to scream.

“No, oh my God! Yoongi likes you! You!” He shakes you so hard that your head spins, “He likes you so much it’s disgusting and cute so you better do something about it and not accustom us to this torture anymore, okay?!”

Before you can say anything else, you feel a gentle hand on your shoulder. You blink up, and you see Yoongi offering you a cup of hot chocolate, eyeing the rest of the boys weirdly as they stand there with tightened expressions.

“Here you go,” He says softly, helping you blow onto the steaming cup before gently placing it into your hand.

It warms you up immediately, and you only then managed to piece together what Taehyung and Jimin just told you. The realisation dawns upon you as a scandalised expression makes its way onto your face. Yoongi raises an eyebrow, observing the odd behaviour of the four of you as the three boys ignore his pointed gaze.

“L-Let’s go take a seat,” You stutter, pushing on his chest with your free hand as you attempt to skate away from the wandering eyes. The pressure was too much.

“Hey, hold on, you’ll fall.” He gently chides, doing what comes as second nature to him as he grabs your other hand, giving you a squeeze of reassurance.

As the two of you skate away, you miss the sighs that leave the three boys’ lips.

“So, is there a reason why you tried to skate away like you were an Olympian?” Yoongi asks when the two of you managed to settle down in a small bench outside of the rink, tucked a decent distance away.

You look down at your palms, squeezing around the hot chocolate as you pay attention to the steam that escapes the surface.

The words from Jimin was essentially still haunting you, and you wondered if this was some sick joke of his to get back at you for mixing up his toothpaste with his shampoo a few months back. You sulk because this was a really mean joke and your feelings were about to get really hurt if he was lying to you.

“Hey,” Yoongi murmurs, hand reaching out to tilt your chin up to look at him. His stare is so intense that you find yourself cowering away, cheeks red and embarrassed. “Look at me.”

You can’t.

“I-I … there’s nothing wrong!” You squeak, eyes travelling and landing on different people that wasn’t Yoongi. Anyone that wouldn’t cause your insides to melt with just his gaze alone.

Yoongi purses his lips in disapproval, sighing before he sets his hot chocolate by the table next to the bench and turns to face you. You knew that you had no place to run, especially when Yoongi essentially traps you with his eyes, observing your every move.

“You’re shaking.” He points out.

And only then do you realise that you were shaking, and your hands were basically vibrating with the hot chocolate. You cursed at yourself, and the cold.

“I-I’m cold.” You chatter.

Yoongi frowns, reaching out his hand to immediately grab your own to warm them up. But when you spot his hands, you squeak, immediately retracting them as if he was about to bite them off.

You realise how it looks, and you notice the slight drop in Yoongi’s expression when you reacted the way you did.

“Are you—?” He begins to ask, slow and tentative.

“Not my hands!” You blurt out.

Yoongi pauses for a second before he relaxes his posture and raises a brow at you in questioning.

“Okay …?” He drags, “Where are you cold? Do you need my jacket?” He asks.

You curse at yourself because you didn’t know how to get yourself out of this situation. Especially now that Yoongi was patiently waiting for your response. Your thighs were essentially brushed up against each other, and his body was leaned over ever so slightly that you catch every strand of eyelashes on his eyes.

You were so weak.

“N-No, I … you can keep your jacket.” You stutter, shaking your head as you pat his puffer down when he goes to shrug it off.

Yoongi’s frown deepens, “Well, can you tell me where so I can help—?”

“My lips!” You declare, voice high pitched and loud enough that it attracts a few stares from bystanders.

Yoongi just stares at you, and you’re mortified when you realise what you said, but you can’t seem to stop now that you’ve already dug a hole for yourself.

“My … lips … they’re ... cold,” You clear your throat, blinking up at him with a false sense of determination in hopes of shielding the way your face is undoubtedly on fire right now.

“Your lips … are cold?” He articulates each world tentatively as he observes your face for any reaction.

You nod.

“Yeah. Cold.” You say.

Oh my God, shut up!

Before you can even run away, and it’s as if Yoongi expects you to flee, he pins your hands down with his own and draws closer to your face so quickly that you can barely even catch his next move.

And kisses you.

Smack on the lips.

He pulls away too fast for your liking, and you’re gaping at him like a fish out of the water when you realise what he did.

“You—” You croak, pointing a finger at him.

But Yoongi leans in once more, pressing a firmer kiss to your lips, one that sends your brain into overdrive as you feel yourself melt into his hold. If you were cold, you definitely weren’t anymore. Not when Yoongi is pressed against you like a warm lover by the fireplace.

He pulls away first, again, and you notice the tip of his ears turning red before he offers you that charming smile of his.

“Took you long enough,” He sighs, reaching out to cradle your jaw in his palm. And only then do you realise that Jimin was right, his hand is warm.

“W-What?”

He rolls his eyes fondly, ignoring the way you stare up at him with confused and wide eyes; likely still absorbing what just happened.

“Just hold my hand,” He tuts, reaching in between the both of you to intertwine your fingers together once more as he rests your combined hands on his lap.

“Does this mean …?” You ask shyly, head ducking away from his eyes.

He smiles at you, and you notice that it’s the same look he’s always had whenever he speaks to you.

He brings the back of your hand to his lips and presses a gentle peck to it, causing heat to rise to your cheeks all over again.

“You warm now, cutie?” He murmurs.

You melt, “Oh my God! Don’t—just—I’m literally going to die!” You whine, shoving your face into his puffer as you scream at his suaveness.

He chuckles, low and deep as he unlocks your hands to wrap an arm around your body, tugging you closer until you’re practically glued to his hip like a koala.

“Don’t die on me now,” He sighs, “Just got you to myself.”

“I hate you so much.” Your complaint is muffled into his puffer, but you can feel his grin on the top of your forehead when he presses a warm kiss to it.

“That’s disappointing. I like you very much,” He returns.

You blush, but you don’t push him away when he laughs into your hair, the sound making you melt further into his arms.

You liked him, too.

#YOOOONGI #so cute #help me #tsundere yoongi #oblivious oc #yoongi fluff #yoongi drabble #yoongi scenario #bts fanfic #suga imagine #bts x reader #bts imagine #bts fluff #yoongi

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midnightsunnyday · 3 years

Text

No Crying In The Club (MC x Mammon)

Summary: the Avatar of Greed shouldn't be sulking at some bar while some asshole dances with his human, yet that's exactly what he does. Until the moment he decides he's had enough.

Word Count: 1,171

Warnings: slight NSFW due to cursing and implied sex near the end. Under the cut cause long post is long.

*****

Mammon hated the way you laughed. Not because he found it annoying, but because it wasn’t for him.

It was for That Asshole or the demon you seemed so entranced by. The way your bodies flowed with one another on the dance floor, lost within the music and each other’s touch. It was almost as if you didn’t meet 30 minutes before, with him throwing his cheesy, third-rate flirting at you. The way you smiled when he said you were “the most beautiful human he’d ever seen.” Ha, please.

Ok, he gets it. He shouldn't have thrown that first guy into a table or that second guy, or the third, but it’s not like he wanted to be near you. It's that Lucifer would kill him if anything happened to you. But instead of being grateful, you yelled at him, and like a scolded puppy he slunk over to the bar, pounding back shot after shot of Demonus like the world was ending.

“Now, what’s the Avatar of Greed doing alone at some bar?” some lower demon questioned, their hand gliding up his arm until it rested against his cheek. “How about I buy you a drink and we can make our own party?”

Corny pick-up lines aside, they had a point. Why should he of all demons be alone caring about what some stupid human did when he could have anyone here? Tonight the club was alight with needy souls fighting, longing for some form of vice. Their desire screamed to Mammon, sending waves of pleasure throughout his body. It was the same for Asmodeus, who was busy doing Diavolo knows what in the private VIP lounge upstairs. This was his domain, yet somehow he was the one being controlled. Mammon did a once-over at the demon before him. Any other time, he'd be connin' them out of their wallet. But right now, they were blocking his view.

Mammon yanked the demon's hand away from his face. "Aren’t ya being a bit too bold? What makes you think someone like me would be alone?”

“S-sorry,” the demon stuttered. “I never meant to offend you.”

"Yeah, yeah, now get lost," he said, shooing them away.

The demon slumped backward, disappearing into the crowd.

Mammon groaned. Look at him, turning down free drinks. What hurt more was the fact that he scared away so many people tonight, that he had to open a tab like a damn commoner. He was grieving, not only from the loss of his human but his bank account.

“Honestly, Mammon,” Asmodeus said, having finally appeared from his little love nest from above, gleaming with sweat and possibly, other fluids. “You’ve been sitting at this bar since we got here.”

Mammon took a swig of his drink. “Shut up. Go hump a table leg.”

Asmodeus lolled his head to the side and grinned. “Hmm, why not? I’ve already humped everything here.”

“Gross. Is there even an ounce of shame left in that body of yours?”

“Nope. It’s why I have so much fun. Speaking of which, look at our little human go.”

Oh, and weren’t you two having a grand ole’ fucking time? Both Mammon and Asmodeus watched you laugh as That Asshole spun you into a dip, hand placed on the ball of your back.

Mammon threw up his arms. “Doesn’t that piss ya off?” he yelled.

“Not particularly,” Asmodeus said, tapping his chin with his finger. “Though I do admit they could’ve done way better. I mean, he isn’t hideous. A bit more coordinated in his style than most I’ve seen tonight, but still nowhere as hot as me, of course.”

Mammon groaned and raised his hand to single the bartender for another round.

Asmodeus gasped. “Mammon no,” he clutched his chest with his hand. “You didn’t…open your own tab?”

Mammon could only give a pathetic whine in return.

Asmodeus clutched Mammon by the shoulders and spun him to face him, smacking him across the forehead.

"Ow, the hell was that for?” Mammon said and rubbed his head.

“You need to get your shit together. We’re Avatars, rulers, the HBICs,” Asmodeus yelled over the loudening music. "And when we want something," he motioned towards the dancefloor, "we take it."

“But they don’t want—"

“—Please tell me you aren’t this stupid?” Asmodeus paused, rolling his eyes. “Wait, don’t answer that. Of course you are.”

“Hey, would it kill ya to have some sympathy for your older brother? Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m in the middle of grievin’,” Mammon turned back towards the bar, only for Asmodeus to yank him back to face him again. “Oi, cut it out.”

“Do you think MC actually wants that demon? Trust me when I tell you that there’s not a whiff of lust coming off them.”

It was like a set of gears in Mammon’s head began to turn. “So you’re tellin’ me…they’ve been teasing me this entire time?”

"Duh," Asmodeus yelled. "My horridness, you're slow on the uptake."

He wasn't sure if it was the Demonus or his growing rage, yet when That Asshole stroked your ass, something within Mammon's mind cracked, along with the glass he was holding.

“It’s actually the oldest trick in the book,” Asmodeus said, admiring his manicure. “Though I—wait, Mammon.”

It took seconds for him to reach you, That Asshole you were with now a permanent part of the club’s wall. Not his proudest moment, but pride is Lucifer’s territory and he isn’t one for giving a damn about being sophisticated. Before he knew it, he had you by the arm, the prattle of patrons lessening as he yanked you up the stairs and into the VIP room, locking the door behind him.

He could give two shits about the little attitude you were throwin’. In fact, he didn’t hear a word you said. He was too busy thinkin’ about how your outfit cradled the curves of your body and how he wanted more than anything to feel them.

But as much as he loved your moxie, you still needed to know your place. Last time he checked, pets don’t bark back at their masters. So he silenced you, his kiss rough and wet. You tasted so good. Too good. His body tightened, prepared for your inevitable rejection, yet you only met him with the same greedy kisses, your hands roaming each other’s bodies, grabbing at places you shouldn’t, but were too lost in your own lust to care.

Finally, he pulled away from you, your eyes holding a hunger that he couldn’t ignore. “You’re mine, got it, human?” Mammon said with a cracked voice. He was like putty in your hands and you knew it, with that devious little grin you made. Being smitten over a human might ruin his street cred, but fuck it. You drove him crazy.

Finally, you laughed, and it was for him this time. You’re so cute, you know that? He wanted to hear more of that voice, his thoughts growing wilder.

What other cute noises would you make?

#obey me shall we date #obey me mammon #obey me mc #obey me #obey me fanfic #obey me mammon x mc #midnightsunnyday

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loveislattes · 3 years

Text

Everything Comes at a Price (Demon!Dark/Fem!Reader) Chapter 1

Commission prompt: Reader is really depressed, and Dark decides to roughly Fuck the depression out of them

Important: Reader has female pronouns and is a vagina owner!

Warnings (For this chapter specifically): Talk of depression and stressful life, mentions of unnamed character death, mentions of beheading/dismembered head and some minor blood/gore (not too detailed), cursing, mentions of family in the hospital, demon!Dark (akin to jinn or genie), and pet names.

A/N: PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS! This first chapter is allllll story setting. Part two will have the good ol' rough and dominating Dark fucking.

As always, if you would like to support me, I have a Ko-Fi (here) for donations and I usually have a few slots open for commissions (unless life gets in the way)!

“Look, I think it’s just best if you take some time off.”

Though worded nicely, you instinctually felt the pang of panic and anger already bristling in your chest.

“Time off…” you murmur, eyes sliding down to your boss’s desk in thought, “As in, a week or two or…?”

You let the implication hang heavy in the air. There was a telling silence that followed your question. When you finally met his gaze again, your boss let out a hefty sigh. Before he even said anything, you knew what his answer was by the sympathy on his face alone.

“We won’t fight your unemployment for the first few months, which hopefully will be enough time for you to find another place of employment. I’m sorry, Miss Y/N, but between the company making cutbacks and your recent drop in productivity, I had to-”

“Don’t you dare,” you hissed sharply, interrupting him before he could finish the excuse.

Rage fueled your motions, forcing you to your feet while your eyes narrowed on the man you’d once thought a decent person.

“A drop in productivity?” you scoffed, “My apartment building was just destroyed in a freak fire two weeks ago that, of course, my insurance refused to cover. I’ve been bouncing place to place between motels and friend’s homes until I can afford another deposit on the measly pay you give us. My mother is in the hospital, in the ICU, after a freak hit and run. My car broke down yesterday and I walked thirty fucking minutes in the pouring rain today just to make sure you assholes weren’t a man down with all this work. And you knew all of this, but you still decided to fire me? I can’t- You know what, fuck you. Fuck you and fuck this place! I hope this whole company shuts down and you get to experience even a modicum of the instability I’ve had to!”

Before he could respond, you slammed the chair back into place against the desk and stormed from the room. You could feel the confused gazes from your coworkers as you marched to the door but didn’t dare spare them a glance. Most of them you considered to be your friends and you knew you’d have to explain everything later, but you couldn’t allow anything other than anger to inhabit your body at that moment. One bit of sadness and you would crumble. Rage would keep you safe until you made it to your temporary home for the night.

Little curses and fury-filled resentment spilled from your lips as you stepped out into the dreary public. Of course, it was still raining. You hadn’t even dried off from your trek to work and now you were thrown right back out into the storm. A timely crack of lightning rumbled across the sky as you shot one last middle finger back at the door.

“I can’t believe this shit,” you grumbled.

Pulling your raincoat up over your head, you kept your gaze down and began your journey back to the hotel. The one upside to all the rain was that the sidewalks were nearly barren. Cars sped by on the busy roads but you were alone on foot. In fact, you didn’t see a single soul until you were on the block housing your hotel, and somehow that lonely occupant still managed to slam into you.

“Excuse you,” you muttered.

“So sorry, please excuse me.”

The person’s voice sent shivers down your spine and every last hair stood up on your arms. Reflexively you pulled back as a hand touched your side, ready to give them a mouthful, but they were moving on by the time you could gather your wits about you. All you caught was a tall form in a black business suit striding off in the opposite direction.

With an irked tsk and a mutter of “Fucking asshole”, you rushed into the lobby, stomping the rain from your shoes along the rubber mat. Sure you were pissed off but you still had the human decency not to create more work for others.

You managed a little nod to the desk clerk on your way by to the elevator. As you watched the numbers climb slowly down, you mentally questioned the fates if the world was against you. The elevator stopped on literally every- single- floor; All 25. Trying to maintain your composure, you leaned up against the wall and let your eyes flutter closed, slowly breathing in and out rhythmically. Just a little longer and you’d be in the safety of solitude. You could let it all out.

The ding of the lift doors opening pulled you out of your little meditative session and you immediately let out a grateful sigh of appreciation upon realizing it was empty. Being stuck in a small metal box with others for an undetermined amount of time made your skin crawl, much less when you were already on the edge of snapping. You mashed the close button repeatedly until the metal doors finally sealed shut and the elevator began to move. The rest of the journey was a blur until you stopped at your room door and fished your card out of your pocket, coming out with not only the plastic key but a large silver coin.

“The fuck?” you muttered.

As the door buzzed open, you flipped the coin over in your fingers, trying to think back on when you had gotten it. You were pretty sure you’d never seen anything like it before; completely void of any details on one side but the other filled with finely engraved words.

The loud startling thump of your keys as you threw them on the nightstand wasn’t even enough to draw your concentration away from the interesting little trinket. It took a few minutes and some good lighting but you eventually figured out what was written; the discovery only confusing you further.

“Clutch this coin to thee whilst ye make a plea

In return ye shall become my endless devotee”

“Yeah… that’s not creepy at all,” you sighed.

Tossing the coin on the nightstand next to your keys, you sloughed off your wet clothes and tossed them in the small hamper next to your duffle bag. After this horrid morning, you needed a long hot shower before you pondered on any strange coins or the mental shithole that had become your life.

You weren’t sure exactly how long you spent under the burning water but, by the time you exited, you were both hungry and in dire need of some caffeine.

“Or a nap. A nap could be heavenly,” you murmured to yourself.

Towel around your head, you dropped into the bed naked and took a moment to revel in the sheets against your freshly lotioned skin. There was hardly a better feeling. Thank god you had the good sense to buy some of your own sheets rather than rely on whatever the hotels had to offer. It made your day the tiniest bit better.

As you leaned back against the headboard, you snagged up the coin once more. The metal was cool against your warm fingers as you flipped it around and around. Did you dare give it a try? What was the worst outcome: You felt silly for believing a random coin and no one would ever know? Although, what if it was legit...?

Now that thought made you feel silly. A little chuckle passed your lips before you clasped the coin between your hands and brought it to your chest, closing your eyes as if about to pray.

“Alright, I don’t know how this works so I’m just gonna state my wishes out loud. I hope that works for, well, whoever you are. First off, I want that backstabbing business ruined. They fucked me over after I bent over backward for them, now they deserve to feel the same. Please. Second, I don’t know how you could do it, but I’d really like my insurance company to finally approve my apartment claim so I can find another place soon. Third-”

You trailed off as emotions immediately welled up behind your eyelids, the burning already tingling in the back of your throat from holding them in.

“My third and most important wish, please, if nothing else, find the one that put my mom in the ICU and make them pay. Those idiots down at the police department couldn’t find them, or so they say anyway, so just… give them what they deserve, please.”

With a stifled sniffle, you wiped away the few tears that had escaped and fell back against the headboard, eyes staring unseeing at the ceiling as you let the pain wash over you; Rage, dread, hope, apathy, desperation. Eventually, the unending barrage became too much to deal with. This wasn't a new thing in your life, but it had certainly culminated into something worse with everything going on in your life; clinical depression exacerbated by a series of unfortunate events.

With no other plans for the day and the weight of your heart heavy in your chest, you chose to simply roll over and bury yourself, and your troubles, in the fluffy comforter. You’d feel better after a nap. You were almost certain of it.

Even as you drifted off into sleep, the tears didn’t cease.

When you first woke, you weren’t sure what had roused you but you knew it wasn’t good; All you could feel was bone-trembling terror. You couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, felt frozen in place with only the ability to stare at the now dimly lit wall; watching the shafts of setting sunlight ever so slowly creep down by the minute.

“Come now, darling,” a low voice crooned in the void behind you, “I know you’re awake.”

Like a rubber band snapping, the grip on your body suddenly released and you shot up in bed, immediately turning around to find out who had spoken. You weren’t sure what you expected but it certainly wasn’t the devilishly handsome man that was seated next to the window. The sunlight pouring down on him made it very obvious that his skin was lacking any range of melanin, rather being pallor shades of whites, blacks, and greys, but that didn't detract from his appearance at all. In fact, he looked like something out of a Gothic romance novel or a Tim Burton movie. Once the enchantment of seeing him began to wear off, you finally noticed what sat on the table next to him.

A human head.

“Holy fuck!”

A hellish screech escaped your lips as you hastily scrambled backward, trying to get as far away from him as quickly as possible, only to go careening off the edge of the mattress. The pain of impact on the floor couldn’t even deter you. As your back hit the wall, you kept your eyes pinned on the intruder, watching for any sign that he was going to follow you or attack.

“While I’m certainly not minding the show, don’t you think you’re rather underdressed for this occasion?” he spoke suddenly.

It took a few moments for his words to sink in but the moment they did, you launched yourself back at the bed with a hushed curse and promptly pulled the sheets up around your naked body.

“Who are you? How did you get in here? I-Is- Is that real?”

Long clawed fingers made their way into the matted, bloody mess of hair and pulled the body part free from the table with a sickening pop.

“It is undoubtedly real, but I figured you’d believe me much quicker if I had a visual aide to my claims,” he replied, dropping the offending thing before tossing you a sharp, seductive, smile, “The name is Dark. I’m a demon and the owner of the coin you wished upon.”

Your tongue felt too heavy to move while you watched in horror as he licked the blood from his fingers like a cat bathing itself.

“I- I don’t-”

“You don’t understand,” he supplied helpfully.

As he rose from his seat, you stared at him owlishly, unable to take your eyes off his graceful form as he nearly glided across the floor to stand in front of you.

“That coin,” he hummed, pointing at the metal disc in question, “It belongs to me. When someone makes a wish while holding it, I’m able to hear them. In your case, I heard all three.”

Trepidation tickled the nape of your neck when your eyes slowly rolled over to the head once more. It was as if you couldn’t breathe. Sick crawled up your throat and it took every ounce of your strength to keep from vomiting at the man’s feet. You don’t know how long you sat there, struggling to breathe and ease the nausea but, when it finally went away, rage took over.

“I didn’t want you to actually KILL them!” you shouted.

The demon casually arched a brow in your direction before saying, “You specifically wished for the one involved in your mother’s accident to get what they deserved.”

“Yeah! Like prison! Not death!”

A soul-trembling crack resounded through the small hotel room as he slowly craned his neck side to side, ethereal pulses of red and blue emanating from his being. Some of the previous ire slipped from your hold when he moved even closer, step by step until his knees were touching yours.

“I will never understand you humans and your sense of righteousness. Would it ease your mind to know this wasn’t the first time they had committed such heinous crimes?” he asked.

“W-What?” you questioned softly.

“I will not delve into details but rest assured that your embarrassing sense of compassion was lost on them; they were vermin,” he explained, “Now, that makes three wishes fulfilled. You have two remaining.”

You thought back on exactly what wishes you had made and were immediately overcome with dismay.

“Wait, what did you do?!” you demanded, jumping to your feet and glaring up at him, “You didn’t kill anyone else, did you?!”

A twinge of disdain passed through his features. His hand landed heavily on your shoulder and you were shoved back down onto the bed with a 'tsk' of disapproval, as if scolding a misbehaving child.

“Fortunately for you, no. Your previous place of employment has simply been condemned for multiple code violations that have mysteriously come to light during a surprise investigation, and your insurance company has been informed that they’re facing a lawsuit if they don’t reevaluate your claim with a more positive outlook.”

Relief flushed through your veins and you thanked him meekly. You wouldn’t have been able to live your life knowing you had caused the deaths of so many people, let alone friends.

“So, what now?” you asked.

“You have two more wishes before your soul belongs to me.”

He said it with such finality and ease that you almost didn’t react at first. Once his words settled in though, oh, panic quickly followed.

Gaping up at him in wide-eyed disbelief, you tried to stammer out some rebuttal or plea, but nothing would come out. Panic soon gave way to defeat as you realized there was no obvious way to get out of this ordeal. It had been clear as day on the coin.

Thinking on the offending piece of metal, you looked over and snagged it up, reading the inscription once more.

“Clutch this coin to thee whilst ye make a plea

In return ye shall become my endless devotee”

“So that’s what this meant,” you sighed quietly, before gazing at him once more, “And there’s no way to bargain out of this?”

He looked mildly pleased by your inquiry, letting out a little hum before falling back into an ornate chair that definitely hadn’t been there a few seconds ago.

“And what would you bargain?” he purred, “What could a simple little human such as yourself have to give to me, other than your soul of course.”

You cursed his infallible logic and stayed quiet as you tried to think over your options. Truly, you had nothing else to give him; no money nor gifts. Your soul was the only valuable thing you owned, and there was no undoing what had been done. A person had died because of your wish.

With a heavy sigh, you sat up to your full height and prepared yourself mentally.

“Is there a time limit? Do I have to make my wishes today or can I think about them?” you asked.

“You’re free to use them when and wherever you wish. However, do not think this a loophole. Choosing to postpone your wishes until death does not release you from this contract. Your soul will still belong to me when you die.”

Well fuck. There went that option. If you were doomed no matter what, you might as well make use of the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity... right?

“I’m going to need time,” you whispered.

“Fair enough,” he replied, finally taking a step back, “You have my calling card. You can call for me if you have any questions, otherwise, you know what to do.”

He strolled back to the window and snagged the dismembered head, flashing you a wide smirk that framed his fangs perfectly.

“I’ll just be taking this with me. Hope to hear from you soon, darling.”

#Demon!Dark #Dark/reader #female reader #PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS PEOPLE #This chapter is a little dark #heh... dark #pun not intended #two part series #Chapter 1

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poptod · 3 years

Note

hello! i'd like to make an ahkmenrah x reader request! maybe present-day reader gets teleported back in time to when ahkmenrah was alive and they eventually get to the palace and stuff happens? maybe they tell him about modern life? and maybe reader is unnaturally beautiful to the ancient egyptians because humans evolve to be more attractive as time goes on so a person from our time would be hot shit 4,000 years ago? this is long lmao. thanks!

Notes: god ive always wanted to do this kind of storyline but i was worried about like,, logic and stuff getting in the way of the storyline. anyway! i was so fucking elated to receive this request. i got a bit carried away so apologies! WC: 3.2k

Okay. It isn't that bad.

Would you ever see your family again? Probably not, but you weren't ruling the possibility out.

Would you ever get to have sour patch kids again? Probably not. But even during the time you lived in 2020, you had eaten more concentrated sour patch kids flavor than all of the people around you combined.

This little village on the outskirts of ancient Thebes is hardly L.A.––though that's probably a good thing––and is small enough for you to know every inhabitant. Your shop there is small to suit the town, and well known ever since your arrival in this time.

They found you beside the river, thought you to be a gift from the Gods. You were hazy, though––whatever had so forcefully pushed you back in time had made your head spin, making you sick and unbalanced. So, when they asked if you did in fact come from the Gods, you had no way of defending yourself either way. Generally you've been denying it––they think you are a god, and the only way you've convinced them you're not a god is by saying you're a gift from them. It explains the way you look, unnaturally beautiful and alien amongst the more pure genetics of earlier humans.

Your shop is pretty simple. You make portraits from paint, more realistic than anything else that exists, and it only affirms their belief in your god-like status. Fortunately word seems to not have gotten out––the village has remained small, and no one from Thebes has run into you. Every now and then you get unreasonably anxious that a noble will find you and turn you into a slave. It's a worry most people around you have, so you find comfort in the fact that you're not the only one. Still, you're not quite accustomed to such an atmosphere––the thought of nobles and Kings noticing you still sends terrified aches into your stomach.

It's about two weeks in that it gets bad. People start to pass by the village, more than you would've thought, and they're all looking to trade goods, food, and information. The people of the village talk about you––you're something interesting, you can't deny that, but they don't know just how worried you are. Whenever you see someone you don't recognize outside your home, you refuse to come out.

Five days later and there's soldiers in your home, looking over your paintings on their way back to Memphis from conquering the realm of Kush. You hold a deep contempt for them––you don't know all that much about history, but you know how Egyptian soldiers and Pharaohs reigned power over the people of Kush.

The soldiers aren't all that worrying. What really gets your heart pounding is the final man to enter your hut; a man bearing a crown and a long sword, with golden braces around his wrists and a chest plated in green scales. Your fingers dig into the wood of your counter when he notices you. The crown on his head––it's the crown of both upper and lower Egypt.

This is a Royal.

"Where did you learn this skill?" He asks you, eyes trained on one of your bigger drawings. It's just on papyrus––not for sale––and hung on the wall as a display of your talent.

"I spent a little while travelling the world," you answer. Technically, growing up in the modern world was a bit like travelling the world; you got to see the cultures and practices of many, many people. "The rest of it's practice."

"The peasants here, they... they claim you came from the Nile. Is that true?"

"Well... that is where I was found," you say carefully, but you can already tell you've fucked up. The look on his face is indescribable beyond the fact that he's pleased.

"How would you feel coming back to the capital with me?" He offers to you, setting his hands on the counter and leaning forward. "I think my father would much like to meet you."

"I – I don't think I'm really cut out for -"

"Nonsense," he dismisses with a smile, taking your hand from its' spot on the wood. "We shall teach you proper writing skills, give you a beautiful home, and the salary isn't horrid either."

You can't just say no. If you do, he's going to ask questions––he's going to get confused, and he's going to get suspicious. No one would turn down an opportunity like this; free schooling, free housing, and much more money for something you already do.

"Well... alright," you say quietly, looking to the home around you that you built with the help of the other villagers.

"Wonderful. My name is Kamun."

He's not a very nice person, you come to find. Or perhaps he's just not your tastes––the soldiers seem to like him well enough, at least the ones who aren't completely subordinate to him, but his attitude towards women and poor people is scathing to say the least. Otherwise he's very amusing, with a good sense of humor and quite generous with his food and wine as long as he gets his fill of it first.

The boat back to Memphis, where the royal family currently stays, is a long ride filled with various entertainments. It's clear these are not soldiers accustomed to rough conditions––the dancing women and flowing beer is enough to tell you that. Instead, you surmise these are faux war-heroes; people adored in their hometown for doing nothing but intimidating others in a foreign country. They try to get cushy with you, soften you up to their words and touches. It doesn't work.

He keeps you close to him. You let him do it, sort of––it's better than telling him no. Better than starting a ruckus. Then again, avoiding a ruckus is what got you here in the first place, standing before the doors of the courtroom where a false God on earth rules the Nile.

"Father, I bring you a gift from Thebes," says Kamun, pushing you forward by the small of your back. You can't bring yourself to meet the Pharoah's eye, so you fall to your knees and bow.

Everyone is staring at you. You don't look normal, and they all know it, and you know it. You could cry from the heat of their eyes on your back.

One of Kamun's soldiers steps forwards, handing the Pharaoh and his wife several of the drawings they'd taken from you. Silence passes as the two scan your work.

"How did you achieve such a mirror of the human face?" The Pharaoh asks in a slow, deep voice that sounds as he looks––old, weathered, wise.

"They came from the Nile," Kamun answers for you, and murmurs take the crowd by storm. You, on the other hand, feel your heartbeat increase in massive increments, speeding your already uneven breath. "A gift from the Gods, the locals said."

"I can't – I am not magic," you rush out, hoping your clarification clears you of any responsibility to the Pharaoh. You know he rules everything––if he says you are to stay here, you have no choice, and you don't like it here. Too many people. "I cannot give you anything, my King."

"I think you're lying," says a voice, its' tone soft and a velvet low. It catches you off guard, brings you to raise your head and meet the eyes of someone you don't know; a young man dressed in gold beside the Pharaoh's throne.

You almost lose your breakfast as your eyes bulge, your mind instantly recognizing him and connecting the dots. You were, by far, not a historian, but you knew a fair amount of Egyptian history––namely a family in the Old Kingdom who was headed by the Pharaoh Merenkahre. The remaining statues and busts of the King and his son are astonishingly accurate, and there can be no doubt in your head.

That being said, there also can't be any reaction on your face. You try your best to reign your expression in.

"I..."

Actually, you do have something to offer now. You know the names––memorized the history, committed each event to memory, and now you can pull their lifestory off from the top of your head. Wouldn't that be valuable to a King; a seer of the future, to predict the rise and fall of the economy and the coming armies. Besides, you can't just say he's wrong. That'd be treasonous to them. So you have to agree you're hiding something, come up with an excuse as to why you hid it, and it proves harder than you thought. You're quickwitted, though––it got you away from the villager's wrath, and it will promote you to noble living now.

You hide a smirk beneath a calm expression as you address the younger prince.

"They gifted me foresight," you say quietly, pretending as though it hurts you to tell the truth, "but told me to never inform others."

"You are in the presence of Ra once more," the Pharaoh reminds you.

"And others," you point out. "I would... it would be better to discuss such matters.. in private."

Detailed information about already-past events is enough to sway him to believe you. The Pharaoh is surprisingly easy to convince, and with a few, meaningless predictions of the future, he gives you housing in his own palace. Kamun looks proud of himself––puffs his chest out in front of his father and earns no compliment. Ire laces his glare as it falls upon his brother, Ahkmen, praised for his ability to see through your obvious lie.

The Pharaoh asks his younger son to guide you to your room. Apparently it's closer to his room than it is to Kamun's, and evening is approaching fast. The walk there, while short, is marked by a conversation composed mainly of Ahkmen's questions and your answers. When the two of you reach your room, he doesn't leave––actually, he follows you in and locks the door.

There's nothing more terrifying than a man with unchecked power, and there is no one watching you.

No fail safe.

You gulp.

"I know you're still not telling the truth," he says, and though it dismisses several of your worries it still begs the question; how did he notice? "Just thought I'd spare you the embarrassment in front of my father, but my generosity ends there. Now I won't hurt you, and I won't tell anyone––I'm just curious."

Oh thank fuck. He's not going to rape you.

"I'm not Egyptian," you blurt out.

"Obviously," he interrupts, but you glare him into raising his hands defensively.

"I'm from the future."

He stares at you. For a minute. You know this because you count it––he just pauses right in his stance, doesn't move, and stares at you for a whole minute like you just told him you're made of gold.

"I'm sorry, what?" He says, laughter suddenly wracking his body.

"It's how I know what's going to happen to your family," you say, hoping he'll believe you. Otherwise this handsome, seemingly-nice man is going to think you're insane for the rest of time. "I studied your family for years as a side-hobby, I don't know how to predict the future for anything but you and your father."

His laughing pauses, or lightens at least; enough for him to say, "actually?"

"Yes," you say, completely serious. This seems to gain his interest once more. "You have to help me. I know at some point people are going to ask me questions about other things and I'm not going to have an answer."

"Just do what all our priests do," he says with a chuckle.

"What do they do?"

"Lie," he says. You can't stop the grin that spreads across your face from the stupid joke, and when he sees that a shit-eating grin spreads across his own face, delighted he could make you laugh.

"Yes, well... I guess I could do that," you mumble in a laugh.

"There's no need for you to worry. Now that I know the truth, I can help you," he says, offering you something that takes nearly all the anxiety out of your brain. After two days travel with a prince, it feels like it took 50 pounds off your shoulders.

"Thank you, so much," you chuckle in relief.

"Of course. I do have questions though, and I want you to answer them."

"Anything."

These questions of his, they come at all times––almost at a constant rate when he takes you on long walks, which he does often. He passes it off to his father as an interest in your beauty, and it apparently works. This little lie also helps you enormously in avoiding the romantic advances of many of the people you come into contact with. You're still not quite sure how it works, since Egyptians supposedly had a strong sense of patriotism, but you look rare and they idolize it. Every eye that falls upon you sees something beautiful, and you can't understand it.

At least Ahkmen is normal. He doesn't talk about you being beautiful. Ever.

And it kind of makes you sad.

"Would you say people on the whole are happier in the future or in the past?" He asks you, his words surrounded by the warmth of a summer day in Egypt.

Birds chatter loudly in the trees around you, singing in the humid air that marks the mating season for many of them. The flowers that surround you are already familiar––you thought it would take longer for you to commit the shapes and colors to memory, but here you are. Dressed in gold-laced silk and turquoise necklaces.

"I think the happiness of a population is dependent entirely on the circumstances surrounding it," you say. Sometimes your answers relate more to the human condition than the progress of time on the human race; he likes these answers, too, so you tell him exactly what you think. "Six thousand years from now, there are times of great misery. One is even called the Great Depression, but five years before that were some of the most prosperous times my country had ever seen. The same cycle is evident here."

"So.. great misery and great happiness come in waves?" He asks, pace slowing as he tries to understand what you're saying. You pause along the pathway, allowing him space to think.

"It's a pattern, actually. When the economy goes up, it will always come down. Recessions happen right after economical booms. And yes," you say before he can ask, "a time of unease will follow the prosperity of the current years. But it won't be for a time yet."

"Will it happen in my lifetime?"

He's murdered about three years from now. You think you might be able to stop it, but if you do, it'll alter history quite a lot. Either way, he wouldn't live long enough to see the recession the building of the great pyramids caused.

"No," you say. "But I'd prepare for it anyway, if only to keep your citizens safe."

"Of course. You... you are a great scholar," he tells you, resuming the slow walk down the shore of the Nile.

"Oh. Uh, thank you," you mumble as a blush fills your cheeks.

"What did you do in your time?"

"I was an artist, but I spent a lot of time giving lectures on the role of autistic people in ancient Egypt. Autistic people are often timekeepers," you say, and you know he'll figure out what you mean. Autistic isn't a term here, but many timekeepers of these ancient times were autistic, and considered highly by their societies.

"You might be able to give lectures again, if you'd like," he suggests. "People would come from far and wide to hear you speak. And you've got things to say that I know many scholars will find interesting."

"Mmm," you wince, "I kind of want to stay away from altering history too much."

"Oh, yes. My apologies," he says in a softer voice.

"It's alright," you say. "I'm glad you think I would be a good choice for that kind of thing, though."

He chuckles bashfully as he turns to the ground, scuffing his sandals as he walks.

Ahkmen is sweet––much sweeter than any of his family members, and you find yourself appreciating that every time you pass by his room. You pass his door often, always stopping a second to contemplate the tall, wooden doors. He's on the pathway between your room and the library.

Most of the time he's not in his room. Actually, you can usually find him in the library––there or outside in the markets or near the stalls. Today is different; he's been missing all day, and only when you walk the path back to your room do you hear his voice, talking to himself in his bedroom.

"They're bombarded with just such compliments, though. I can't – I can't stand out!"

"Or maybe you should, because you still haven't said a single thing yet and they probably think you're completely uninterested and that's why they aren't noticing you?"

"You and your... logic," Ahkmen spits.

"Come complaining when you kiss them under my advice."

As you attempt to peek through the crack in the door you stumble, knocking your hand against the wood. You barely hesitate before knocking again––cool and collected, smooth to slip into another lie.

"Oh! Hello, um – hi," he says awkwardly, slipping out of the room when he sees you. He quickly closes the door behind him, careful to keep you from seeing the other person in his room, but you can't bring yourself to care about the stranger.

Think of an excuse, why am I here?

"Oh, that's... I like your flower," he comments softly, eyes flickering between your eyes and the flower tucked into your hair. You'd forgotten about it, but raised your hand to touch the petals as you smiled. The perfect excuse

"Thank you. I thought you might like it, so I," you take it out of your hair and grab his hand, holding his palm upwards, "wanted to show you.. um, here."

Setting the flower in his hand, you curl his fingers around its' stem and push his hands back into his chest. He stares at you for a moment, confused by your strange behavior, but accepting of your gift anyway. You know him well enough now––he'd never decline a gift from you.

"A white iris," he tells you in a lofty tone. "A symbol of the dead. Funny it looks so lively on you."

You need to get out of here before your chest combusts.

"I need to go now, but I'll see you this evening, yes?" You ask, stepping instinctively closer. He doesn't back away.

"Of course. And, um," he takes your hands, keeps you where you stand as he slips the flower back behind your ear, "keep it. I want to see it on you at dinner."

He's close to you––close enough that it gets hard to distinguish his breath from your own, when you started holding his hand. When his other came up to your face. When he leans in and kisses your forehead. It's barely there, just barely, but there's no mistaking the soft plush, the affection clear behind gentle, precise movements.

You rush away the second he lets your hands go.

#ahkmenrah x reader #rami malek

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2lim3rz · 3 years

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THE HATE OF LORGAR [40k FANFIC] [LORGAR X READER]

This has been sitting in my head since April, so it's about time I wrote it!

Lorgar really didn't deserve some of the shit he got tbh, he just needed a better life. Anyways..

WARNINGS: Self-flagellation/harm , Lorgar's moods are pretty flip-floppy

You were a Remembrancer aboard the ship that held the Primarch of the Word Bearer's themselves, Lorgar Aurelian. You didn't know much of the other Primarchs, just that not many of them were... least to say, much fans of your job title.

But it was your job. You had been selected by thousands who were desperate for the position you were in. You had worked your literal and proverbial ass off. On the ship, you lost some of your flow at the complete master-crafters of the various historical arts. You felt incompetent, a mere toddling child amongst some of them.

Did you back down? No. You were close to it once, but some other Remembrancers and even a couple of the Astartes helped your courage. Even though you couldn't fathom why, as one the Astartes clearly held some form of disdain for baseline humans and had a sickly sweet charming voice. Most of the Word Bearers were very charming with their words, but his always had an undertone you never liked; yet given his rank, you couldn't do anything about it.

Of course, his help was the entire reason of why you were Lorgar's personal Remembrancer. Or.. that's how it began. Your meetings getting more frequent despite both of your myriad of duties to attend. You both found excuses. You both grew to know each other. Maybe that's why you paced in worry in the massive in-between hall of his grand room. Two doors on either side, one leading to the ship and one to his room. Maybe that's why you paced, the tip of your thumb in your mouth as you gently gnawed.

You felt his hate. You felt his grief. In fact, you felt all of their grief and hate. Even the most terrifying of the Word Bearers aboard the ship almost seemed to shake. Lorgar, and in turn the Word Bearers, felt as though they were an extended family.. so when you heard the news.. Monarchia was attacked. What was the galaxy turning to if the Ultramarines was turning against them? You took a shuddering breath. You wished you could have gone, but you just couldn't keep up with the Astartes, that was fact and he convinced you of that. So you were here, waiting for Lorgar to come and share his feelings and whatever else happened in the day. For your tradition.

Thoom, thoom, thoom, thoom. You heard his steps. Your head lifted, thumb drifting away as you wiped your hand on your clothes. He was coming, that was clear from the weight of the steps. Your instincts screamed at you, however, at how quick they were. At the clash of something hitting the metal wall. In the distance, a low sort of howl from a grieving beast. Oh, how lucky you were that you pressed yourself against the wall due to the sheer force the doors slammed open. One giving a horrible groan as if it cried out.

You felt your heart drop. His once shining armor was covered in grizzly ash. From his ear was caked blood. The man's eyes was wide and terrifyingly feral, tears had carved rivers in the ash smeared on his face. The already perpetually overwhelming feeling of being near a Primarch grew tenfold at how terrifyingly heavy his breathing was.

"Lor..Lorgar?" you hesitated, feeling as if you couldn't breath. Like a predator, his head snapped towards you. All before he fell to his knees, a sob causing a roaring racket in the silence. Stumbling one step forward, followed by another, you rushed towards him and fell to your own knees, clinging to his hand. "Lorgar! Lorgar, are you- What happened?"

He wasn't looking at you. It was as though you could have disappeared and he wouldn't have noticed one bit. His once beautifully clear eyes were almost glazed in a trance. Tears still falling steadily, his face slack. It was a grimly pretty sight, in the same way one would admire a sad painting. You knew you could not get to his mind when he was so emotional, recalling how he got when you not-so-politely stated how Kor Phaeron didn't deserve his rewards for what was clearly abuse to the Primarch you adored out of all the rest (despite not really meeting any others quite yet).

So it was silence you both dwelled in. Silence that shattered as Lorgar lunged. A roar bellowed from his lips as he tore forth one of the massive doors off its hinged and slammed it against one of your favorite murals on the wall. One of the many dedicated to the Emperor of Mankind, your favorite because it was Lorgar's masterful work. You wisely screamed in fear, stumbling back from the crumbling debris.

"He murdered them all." you thought his eyes were wild once. You thought once that you had seen a feral light in his eyes when he was angry. You thought you would see grief. Sad, sad grief in those eyes. Instead, there was only anger. A roiling blaze in this tear-filled orbs. His ash covered face torn asunder in a snarl. "He killed them because I was right! I was right and he murders millions for it!" your ears hurt. Oh, stars they hurt so bad at the force of his screaming. Letting go of his hand and covering your head, your back slid against the wall as he slammed his fist against the crumbling facade of the Emperor.

"All this sacrifice! All of humanity's blood spilled, all of my blood spilled! And this is what we get?! The moment I tell him the truth, I am spat upon and treated as a mutt!" the Primarch screamed to the air before snapping towards you. Your vision blurred as your own terrified tears emerged. It was as though he had to remember you were there.

"You write the truth, and nothing but the truth, right," never before had your name felt so terrifying. The way he snarled it in his question. You knew he wasn't angry at you and yet you felt so scared. Hiccuping, you frantically nodded, not trusting your words. "Write this. Let the galaxy know He forced the Word Bearers to kneel. He forced me to kneel. He allowed Gulliman to murder entire cities of innocents. All because the Emperor wishes to live a lie."

Just as soon as he spoke those seering words, his eyes staring so deeply in your eyes you swore he could melt you from within, he whipped away. Stomping heavily towards his room. Instincts within screamed at you to turn away. To run when Lorgar was so volatile. He was always emotional and you adored the fiery passion he showed for things.. but sometimes it was too overwhelming, like now. Perhaps some inane part of you figured you could still offer comfort.

So you followed him. Watching from the doors that closed behind you as he took off his armor. If it was any other day, perhaps you two would have traded jokes. If by traded jokes, meant you joked about as he sheepishly stammered his way through it. An unseen side of the Primarch, really, was that he always seemed to stumble his words around you. But not now. Not now as he barely bothered to don a robe before going low onto his knees again, hanging his head low.

You jolted, surprised as he spoke a low order and a man emerged with a large bowl that he seemed to struggle holding. Dark powder emerging in the air as he quickly sat it upon the ground and skittered away. It was as though you were invisible in your terror as he withdrew a long glittering object that was clearly barbed. A whip of sorts.

"Lorgar....?" your whispered voice almost echoed as he splayed his hands across the ground. His tears were back again as he silently dragged one large hand into the bowl of black powder.. no, it was ash. The ashes of Monarchia. The other hand lifted the whip and you covered your mouth with a shriek at the horrid crack it made. How Lorgar hardly winced.

"LORGAR!"

You were shocked, you knew this. But you couldn't move. You could barely breath as you watched Lorgar perform the wretched flagellation. Somehow, you broke your grim reverie to stumble forward, nearly knocking the bowl of ashes away as you threw your arms around his neck with him finally being low enough for you to do that.

The whip was so close to hitting you, but that didn't matter as he stopped. You could feel the hot blood and sweat making your sleeves and skin sticky. You were sobbing into his neck, clinging tighter. "Stop! Stop, please! Just stop!" you pleaded. You had no right to order a Primarch, but you couldn't stand to watch whatever wretched ritual was happening. He was hurting in his grief for Monarchia, but there was no right for him to hurt himself for whatever wrongs the Guilliman and the Emperor did.

Silence passed between you, Lorgar feeling limp in your arms as his own breath hitched twice before a sob broke forth. You heard the rattling clank as he let go of the torturous whip and clung to you as though you were a lifeline. "He forced them to kneel..." the Urizen whispered in another whimper "He looked at m..me with such hatred. At my sons as though they were not worth the dirt beneath his foot, the spit in his mouth."

You opened your own mouth to speak, but he continued. One large and bloody hand stroking yours as you felt a tremble wrack his body. The power of it shook you and it took all your might not to go into blubbering sobs of your own. "I hit Malcador. I hit Guilliman, my own boot-licking brother." a low snarl began to enter his wavering cry "I hit him. And.." he murmured your name, pulling you back so he could look you in the eye.

This was not your Lorgar. Your Lorgar was smiles and stammers. Your Lorgar had a serene focus about him as well as an intensity when he spoke. This man torn asunder with grief and anger was not yours. "It felt satisfying." it seemed to hurt him as he said this "It did not give me joy but I was satisfied at the Sigilite's pain." you trembled at the whispered words.

"Ven...vengeance is not worth the effort, Lorgar.. you.. you've said this-" "This is no longer vengeance, this.." for once he was lost for words, trying to grasp for one before a hiccup tore through his throat with the faint repetition of how the Emperor forced him to kneel. "Just.. please, Lorgar.. Look at me.. Look at me.." you murmured gently, pulling your hands away from his neck to cradle his face. You knew you would cringe later at the sight of the blood and ashes covering you, but for now you were here.

"He does not see the truth.. all I have spoken is the truth.." it was then you saw what was wrong. He was growing lost. If there was the one and only thing you appreciated of Kor Phaeron and the rest of the Word Bearers, it was they they helped Lorgar stay on track. They were more of his family than anyone could have been.. Kor Phaeron more literally even if he was the worst parental figure you could think of.

"It's.. it's not okay what he did, Lorgar.. but please, get cleaned. This isn't healthy." you stroked his ashy skin as he leaned his head against your hand. Closing his eyes and taking a deep shuddering breath. "You are right. There's much to do and.. and my Legion needs their Primarch." that wasn't what you meant. Everyone needed a break sometime or another, Lorgar especially right now. "Y..yes.. they do.." you mumbled after him. If he wanted to work, you would let him work. Anything to stop him from his self abuse. Anything to help comfort him, you would do.

#lorgar aurelian #lorgar aurelian x reader #reader insert #x reader #warhammer 40k #warhammer 40k fanfic #request #2lim3rz writes #Less active comforting and more like.. idk

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sweetandsavageautistic · 3 years

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(CW: Autism Martyr Parent, hell mention, self-harm mention)

So I was searching for if people’d go to hell for being autistic because I was going to a church fall festival (I asked the pastor if I’d go to hell for being autistic and he said no, so there’s that) and I came across this:

https://faithmummy.wordpress.com/2017/10/15/i-dont-want-to-be-an-autism-parent-anymore/

*big-ass inhale of frustration.*

Okay.....let’s take this in bits.

“*Preface: have you ever felt overwhelmed with life? I have. Of course I love my son with all my heart, I should never need to even justify that, but living with a child with severe autism is hard. I do not need threats made to my life or my child’s because I find some days hard. Comments like that will not be approved.

And for the record I don’t always feel like this but I am human and some days this is exactly how it is. *”

Okay, that’s understandable. You’re allowed to voice that it’s difficult. You’re allowed to feel overwhelmed. That’s valid. If the post continued like this, I’d be fine with it, but she calls herself an Autism Parent, so.....brace yourselves.

“The day started far too early. There was no sweet cuddles in bed or a little voice asking for a drink; no I was woken as usual by screaming. I have had day after day, month after month, year after year of being woken by screaming and I don’t want that anymore.“

That’s also valid, but at the same time, he’s trying to communicate with you. He’s trying to communicate his needs. He might not have any other method of communication, whether it’s the only way he knows how to communicate or that he lacks the proper tools to communicate.

“I don’t want to wake up to a smell that would make you want to vomit and bedding that is fit for the bin more than the washing machine, because yet again it is covered in something that ought not to be seen by anyone else. I am so tired of that now.“

That just is how it is sometimes. You gotta deal with that.

“I don’t want to sit on my couch in the middle of the night looking at my child and wondering what I did to have a child who sees no point in sleeping, who at 8 still can’t say ‘mama’ and who still thinks the world revolves around his needs only.”

This is where I get pissed. You’re basically saying that your son is a punishment for you. You’re calling him a burden. But it’s the last bit that boils my blood.

“who still thinks the world revolves around his needs only.”

This is where I say “Fuck. You.” You’re making him sound selfish. Us autistic people generally have trouble communicating our needs because neurotypicals don’t seem to fucking listen. You’re making it sound like he’s arrogant and a narcissist. If you’re looking for that, look in a fucking mirror.

“I love him more than words could ever convey but I don’t want to be an autism mum anymore.”

You love him and yet you just said you wonder what you did to have a child like him? That shit doesn’t add up.

“I want to be a mum who has fun with her child rather than doing therapy with them.

“I want to walk my son to school and talk to his friends instead of sending him in a taxi to a place where I am a stranger to them.

“I want to be able to talk to my child about the fact it is his birthday soon and discuss what he would like to do to mark that day.

“I want to be someone who takes my child to bowling, teaches them to ride a bike or even goes to the movies with them. Instead the only place I ever take him to is hospitals or respite.”

This one’s a double-edged sword. On one hand, yeah, your child having to miss out on those things sucks. On the other hand, the subtext is indicating that this is about YOU, not your child.

“I am tired of missing out on everything. I am tired of never having party invites, knowing nothing about his day at school, having to still dress him, having to take adult nappies and wipes with me wherever I go.“

No, you’re tired of not being able to live vicariously through him, as shown by you saying YOU are tired of missing out on everything.

“I don’t want to be an autism parent anymore.

“I am tired of holding my child as he screams in public again.

“I am tired of the never ending judgement, the stares and the horrid comments.

“I am am tired of carrying around my broken heart as a result of the interventions and therapies having achieved nothing.

“I simply can not bear the thought of my child as an adult knowing what society is like.

“I am tired of meetings.

“I am tired of phone calls from his school.

“I am tired of fighting for everything but then being accused as having an attitude or people thinking I act like I am entitled.”

Have you ever considered WHY he’s screaming in public? Have you ever considered that he’s trying to communicate or that he’s overwhelmed?

“I don’t want my child to have autism anymore. This is not a ‘different way of seeing the world’ that he has, or ‘a wonderful gift’. This is a child about to be 9 years old who can not say ‘mum’ or use a bathroom himself. This is a child almost my height who still can’t put his own clothes on, brush his own teeth or dry himself after a bath. This is a child who can never ever be left alone, who has to have everything the same all the time, who self harms and wanders. This is a child still with the mind of a toddler who will require others to look after him his entire life.“

EXCUSE ME? THE MIND OF A TODDLER? I don’t think he does. You said he needs to have everything the same all the time. He doesn’t have control over most of his life, so having that sense of stability and routine is likely comforting to him. I feel like in the back of his mind, he knows that. Also you can’t wish away his autism.

“Who would want that for their child?

“Who would want that as a parent?

“Today I don’t want to be an autism parent any more.

“The problem is I have no choice.”

MARTYR COMPLEX ALERT! MARTYR COMPLEX ALERT!

“So I strip that bed, bath that child, cook him that breakfast as I always do and let him sit on my knee while he rewinds the same ten seconds of video on you tube he did yesterday and the day before that and the day before that.“

Bath THAT child. “That child” has the same energy as “That thing.”

“Nothing changes much in my house, except my feelings.

“Today I am tired. I don’t want to be an autism parent today the same way any other parent may feel about not wanting to be the mum of a toddler who tantrums daily or a baby who has reflux or the partner to someone with Alzheimer’s. We all have days when we are just down about the life we have.”

Um, no. You don’t want to be an autism parent because it’s hard on you. You’re not thinking about your son. If you don’t want to be around someone because you only focus on how their disability makes things difficult for you and not taking their struggles into consideration, they deserve better.

“Yet we carry on. We dust ourselves down, search for some positives or listen to some music.

“Tomorrow is a new day. It will probably start off with screaming again too., but maybe tomorrow I will be stronger, more hopeful, more upbeat.

“Maybe tomorrow I will want to be the autism parent I need to be.

“Maybe tomorrow.”

So you just spent 90% of the blog post crying about how hard your life is because you see your child as a burden, and then you say “we carry on”? Are you for real?

This blog post is disgusting. It has one and a half valid points: the preface and that double-edged sword I mention. But that only makes up like 10% of the whole post. The other 90% is them creating a sob story to get pity and sympathy. They’re making themself out to be a victim.

Here’s a hot take: if you’re not willing to love your child because of something out of their control, like a disability or their sexual orientation or their gender identity, you shouldn’t become a parent. You can’t go into parenthood expecting the ideal family life. You can feel frustrated about the obstacles you face. That’s valid. But DO NOT demonize your child and/or make them out to be a burden.

#autism parent #autism martyr parent alert #autism #autistic #actually autistic #actuallyautistic #sweet and savage autistic

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butwhatifidothis · 3 years

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I know it takes a backseat to El's well-deserved criticism, but I greatly appreciate the love you've shown Rhea on this blog. She's one of my favorites and the fandom's treatment of her is nothing short of heartbreaking. Going into 3H mostly blind I expected her to basically be a sociopathic, overzealous Tomas de Torquemada stand-in, but she was really likable and understandable. Probably helps that I started with the Deer tho 'cause CF Rhea feels like a completely different character.

Thank you!

Ngl, when I was first playing 3H I hated Rhea because WC genuinely does a good job at making it seem like Rhea is suspicious to a first time player who likely isn't looking too deeply into the events going on. But as I was playing through more and more of the story I was like "whoa, wait, Rhea's A DRAGON?! And she's savin' the little chickadees? Oh shit she got 'NAPPED?" and so even with the narrative trying to continue to bonk me with "wait Rhea still bad" I wasn't buying it as hard anymore, I wanted to give her a chance... and then the info dump happened (since I played GD first too)!

And ngl, even for a first time player I was like "wow that's a lot to take in wish they coulda sprinkled this over a bit more naturally" BUT I DID take it in. And I really appreciated Rhea so much more now that I got to finally hear her story and got to hear what motivated her to do everything she did. I don't think she was completely in the right in her actions, but there's also... no real right answer? Like what was she supposed to do? Reveal herself as a Nabatean from the get go a thousand years ago and risk being fuckin' harvested for her parts like an abandoned car in an apocalypse by scrappers that outnumber her incalculable number-to-1 (maybe 4 if she dragged Seteth Macuil and Indech along for the ride - can't drag Flayn cuz she's too busy sleeping off death that was caused by humans!)? Actually rule over Fodlan and force the humans to progress how she wanted them to? Let humans have access to the shit that caused Ailiel to stay ass for a thousand years because of humans? Getting to know that context really opened me up to her, to the point where I can see the parallels she has with all the lords and actively wish she could build some kind of genuine rapport with all of them (yes, even Edelgard somewhat, though that'd have to be for an AU fic than actual canon. I really wanted her to bond more with Claude tho!! Dimitri's route tho could at least harbor the chance of that happening post-credits so I take solace in that lol).

And. Like. Seeing the fandom's reaction to her? Bruh. You have no idea how fucking disappointed I was. Like, I plan on making a post on how my experience with the 3H's fandom eerily mirrors my experience with the Bleach fandom (in all the worse ways), but a part of that is how fucking slammed a character I happen to personally like gets by their respective media. And like?? You hear the ass-backwards arguments from people that don't like them and your head fucking spins because my guy my buddy my good pal o' mine what in the fuck are you actually saying. Shit that never happened, shit the character grows out of, shit other characters are just as guilty of doing but are beloved by the fanbase, all to come together to form a hate mob for a character that exists almost exclusively on shit that either doesn't apply to the character (whether ever or by the end of their development) or should apply to others, that makes the fans of said hated character genuinely uncomfortable with coming out and saying they like that character? Yeah, no, the exact same shit. Like. Literally. Even down to the ableism! The victim-blaming! The excusing of a perpetrator's - who happens to be the main antagonist for the majority of the series' runtime/playtime - horrid actions because "oh they're just misunderstood and lonely" and they were only doing what they did to rule over the land the right way! THEY LITERALLY BOTH USE THE "THEY WERE LONELY" EXCUSE! THE "JUST RULER" EXCUSE!

Like. I get it. CF!Rhea and the rest of the routes!Rhea are two totally different depictions of her. You come in from CF, where the narrative never lets go of the Rhea Bad red herring due to Edelgard's own biases, and you see this crazy lady calling you trash and garbage and that your ass stank and you're doo doo and all that, and she's cackling like a Crazy Person™, and you think "wow. Rhea bad." But, like. The entire game is all about subversion. Dimitri isn't quite the pure hearted fairytale prince. Claude isn't a cold, devious schemer. Edelgard isn't the honest and forward person who cares for her people, just coldly. These are the first impressions you get from the lords, and they're all wrong. But nah, Rhea should be treated like the Agarthans and there's nothing subversive about her. She's Just Evil, because the beginning of the game says so just ignore all the shit that makes her not evil, and thus should be treated as such. Imma be mean for a hot second... you have to genuinely lack reading comprehension to believe the overall narrative of 3H makes Rhea to be a morally black bad guy. You can't hide behind the "only played one route" excuse... ever, really? The fuck are you doing contributing to discussions of the game when you... haven't finished it?

But, like, anyway lol got a bit sidetracked. Rhea deserves so much more love in this fandom than she gets, and I might not be able to really change that much... but I can wait for my Rhea zine to finally come in at least lmao

#ask #anon #Rhea (fire emblem)#like this will always be a Rhea-loving space never you worry nonnie #sorry if I got a tad mean but oh my god this fandom can be exhausting lmao

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laketaj24 · 4 years

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The Rules IV: Triggered

Author’s Note: Thank you all soo much for your input!!! It helped me out more than you know! This was fun as hell to write and I hope you’re down for a ride! It’s about to go down. There are two songs that really hit the nail on the head for this part, they are linked below! Happy Reading my people!

Pairing: CEO!Henry Cavill X Reader

Warning: Angst. SMUT. DRAMA.

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Song Inspirations: Jhene Aiko: Triggered (First Part) Jhene Aiko: P*SSY Fairy

If your heart slowed anymore, you’d collapse. But it wasn’t just the lethargic beat of your heart that slowed down. The kiss. The fucking kiss was being replayed in your head over and over, the way she cupped him, the way his lips touched hers and he deepened it. You feel the bile rise at the helm of your throat and you step back.

“Excuse me.” You whispered to a bewildered Alex, “I need to leave.”

He noticed. You could tell by the way he looked back to Henry and then you. His tall frame went from relaxed to apathetic. “Is it him?” He gave a wave in Henry’s direction and then stepped closer to you. “Y/N?”

“I can’t talk about this right now.” You attempted to push your way through the crowd and caught an opening into the gala hall. Alex was on your feet, his long strides made it easy for him to catch you. “Hey, I can’t talk about it right now.”

Your mind raced, he took a month away from you, was it because the entire time he had her? Were you some fucking mistress, side-chick, side bitch… Homewrecker? Inwardly you taunted yourself with the unceasing line of insults to yourself. Fuck! Fuck.

“Look.” Alex cleared his throat and stepped closer to you. His presence kept you from bolting into the nearest room and destroying everything in it. You were grateful for that, maybe. “He is not worth you not enjoying this night. Do you know how beautiful you are right now? Every eye in the building was with you when we arrived. Make him mad, but don’t let him win. He did nothing to deserve a win apparently.”

The pep talk worked and more and more you were starting to understand why Alex was a friend you didn't want to lose regardless of what happened. The first dance is casual, you fight tears watching the woman touch his hand, laid her hand on his chest and laugh like he was a comedian. He wasn't that damn funny. You stay for an hour, it was required to stay an hour, you have done only what was expected of you and nothing more. Alex took you home, the car ride is silent besides the occasional murmur of a curse word under your breath.

Home is what you craved more than anything, once the door was closed and Alex's driver left you released a scream that scared you, followed by a sob as you felt your heart literally break. What a fucking feeling? Grief for someone who didn't deserve it. You didn't drink to solve your problems, so alcohol was a no. Sleep was the obvious answer. The dress felt like it burned your skin, you were certain it didn't, but the fact that it came from him made it poison. He was poison, that you willingly chugged down like a vintage wine and now the repercussions had finally made their grand entrance. And fuck them.

Why were you looking them up, they were a known couple, known to everyone but you? You typed in his name and nothing but her appeared Billionaire Henry Cavill and Olivia Tate grace the Emmy's with their presence. Will this playboy finally settle down? Olivia Tate has HC's heart around her finger. You were sick again. You throw the phone on the couch and screenshot the picture of him kissing her. Is this the future Mrs. Cavill?

You changed clothes, slipping the crop top and leggings on. You knew it wasn't the end of the night. And you were right, sleep does not come. He sends you seven messages, each of which you stared at trying to formulate a response, but they didn't merit one, until the last one.

Henry: I've been looking for you for an hour. Where are you?

Henry: You left without a word? Are you mad or something?

Henry: A response would be nice.

Henry: Y/N

Henry: Y/N. I'll find you later.

Henry: Be there in ten.

Y/N: Drive safe. Are you bringing the wife with you?

You hit send of the picture you'd saved.

Henry: Wow.

The wait for him to arrive only infuriates you more, your mother had always said your temper was like a wildfire, once it sparked it would consume everything to the ground. You knew she was right; Henry even knew your temper needed to be managed, but no one fucking managed you. This included Henry. He didn't knock. He never did really, he entered with his perfectly tailored suit and an eye roll. And the lamp crashed behind him. He ducks, but his face is shocked.

"What the fuck was that?" he hissed.

"My fucking two-hundred-dollar lamp." You picked up the shoes and hurled them across the room next and he ducked as if he knew they were coming and charged towards you. You moved from his grasp. "You have been with her for a year!" It roared out of you and then the tears followed. "Why did you even come over here? Did you think I would be okay with it? Do you think I want to be your whore? Come when you say, fuck when you say and then you go home to her. Don't touch me!!"

"You're not going to let me explain, are you?"

"Oh, for fuck's sake! Explain Henry, tell me what lie did you conjure up, while headed here. She's just a friend. I wasn't with her." you shake your head and Henry folds his arms across his chest. "Is she the reason you wouldn't let me kiss you?"

"Are you finishing acting like-."

"Say it!" You cut him off and step closer to him. You wanted to hit something, but his face was too pretty for that shit, and despite your anger, your mother raised you better than that, "Like what Henry? Get out."

"Y/N."

"I said get the fuck out!"

His jaw clenched and he pushed his hands through his thick mane of brown curls, ending the polished look he had earlier. "I'll call you later."

"Oh, no the fuck you won't." You opened the door to Alex standing there with his eyes on Henry. Why was he back? "He was just leaving." You explained to Alex. "Bye."

Alex stepped aside and held up the brown bag, you could smell the Chinese and noticed the wine bottle. "We didn't get to eat." He explained. The smug grin on his face sealed the night, he was a good guy.

You smiled and watched Henry stare at him before looking back at you. He shook his head, "Goodnight."

"Fuck you." You whispered.

In the past hearing, people say they were numb sounded foolish, of course, they felt. A human cannot simply shut it all off, but you were wrong. So wrong, it was easier to go numb than to feel. It started with work, your time invested in the company allotted you vacation three fucking weeks, paid and free.

The first week you spent with Alex, not fucking his brains out like a part of you wanted to but being a friend. He allowed you to talk, you told him everything and he listened with no judgment and that made it easier. Tia was around too, she spent the night with you when she could, in between hair appointments and makeup slots. Her career was changing fast, you were happy for her even if you barely showed it at times.

The second week you shut them both out. You told them you were out of town, but you were in your apartment with food and tear-soaked pillows. His phone calls had stopped, but you feared it was only because you changed the number. Work could contact you via email if they needed to, but no one even called you during the first two weeks. The marketing strategy you left would do well, you knew it. And besides your certainty in your program, you didn’t care what Cavill Industries did at the moment.

The third week, everything went numb, there were no more tears to cry. Every inkling of him that existed was gone, including the $6000 dollar dress. You burned it and at that final act, the night was gone from your mind. He’d broken the rules. You’d both set them and when he kissed her, he disqualified himself.

The first day back to work your anxiety had you in its grip. Every phone call and opening of your door you dreaded. But he didn’t come. He wasn’t even in the building, according to your boss and that eased everything. You could work with him not being anywhere near you, and that made you apply to the other firms that had once been interested in you. You got two calls immediately. Matheus Corporate wanted to hire you without an interview and after the offer they sent, you were taking it. You typed out your resignation letter and turned it into HR. It was the right choice.

It was a month before you saw him again, and the Cavill you saw briefly in the lobby looked nothing like the one you had grown accustomed to. His hair was wild, and he had a beard, an actual beard. His slate-blue eyes were tired as were his movements. Just seeing him triggered you, the horrid memories of that night flooded your head and the pain resurfaced. Being numb would not be possible around him. You knew it. You hid in the stairwell like an idiot and avoided him. Nine more days of work here and you would be clear.

“Look, the way I see it, we are friends now.” Alex kicked his feet up on your desk and looked to you for affirmation.

You gave it to him nodding your head and chugging down your third bottle of water. “Yes, we’re friends. So, when I call you up at midnight and you’re with your little girlfriend cuddling and things you still have to make an appearance.”

“Girlfriend?” He scoffed.

“You heard me.” You pointed at him.

“I’m hoping one day the little girlfriend, I am cuddling will be you.” He smiled. “There is no rush and no expectation for it. But I didn’t want you to leave this place, oblivious to the fact that I really like you.”

Your heart warmed and you smiled. “Nine days to go and your boldness is out the bag.”

He shrugged. “Did I get brownie points?”

“A whole cake.” You said. You were back to work an hour later, singing under your breath when the door opened.

“I told him to wait outside.” Your assistant said, trying to beat Henry in the office. She turned to you. “Ms. YLN, Mr. Cavill is here to see you.” But he was already in front of your desk.

“Get out.” He said to her.

“Whatever you have to say to me, she can hear.” For some reason, you knew if the door closed you would succumb to him, “Speak.”

“You are not leaving.” His voice was not composed, just wavering and near weak. “Y/N.”

“Gianna, you can go.” You exhaled. What the hell had happened to him? She left the room and the space that once seemed huge started to shrink. Henry walked towards you and you held your hand up when he reached your desk. “What?”

“You changed your number.”

“What did you expect?”

“For you to give me a chance to explain,” His eyes plead with yours for the opportunity. “Can I have that please?”

“You don’t owe me an explanation, I was never yours, right?”

“You’re still mine.” The slight possessiveness came back to his voice.

It made you weak for a moment, your hitched breath took over the silence. “Hurry up, Henry.”

“She is my girlfriend.” He said.

The words punch at a wound you were certain was nearly healed. You hoped he was going to say that he left her, the pathetically infatuated part of you wanted him to say, she dumped him. But he just reaffirmed what you already knew. Olivia Tate was the official girlfriend of Henry Cavill. “Thanks?” You swallowed. “Why are you here?”

“I don’t want her to be, I want you.”

“You are making no sense and I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to throw things at you here. I just wanted to leave all this in the past. Go be with her.”

“Y/N.” He said your name as if he was fighting for breath. “There are some things you do not understand about me. Things I would rather not talk about, but I don’t want her.”

“Then leave her! Damn it.” You bit out. “You are a grown man. You can make decisions on your own. If you didn’t want her then end it. End it now.”

“I can’t talk here.”

“Where else are you gonna talk?” You laughed. “My place? Hell no.”

“Mine.” He shook his head. “I’ll send a car for you after work. Don’t make them work Y/N. Just come.” He looked at you. “Please.”

“Fine.”

You didn’t fight his orders on meeting him, curiosity reared its ugly head and you were gone. His home was at the edge of town, the driveway curved up a hill and lead to the glass estate. It was incredible. Had you been here on better circumstances, you would have enjoyed the view. You stepped out and the door opened. Henry had shed the suit for a black shirt and black sweats that hung at his waist somehow accenting his frame. Fuck. Were you even going to be strong enough to say no to this god? One last fuck? Just to say goodbye fuck, it wouldn’t be frowned upon.

You argued with yourself and walked into the home, the décor was much like his office dark brown woods with a modern sense. You stood in the foyer and looked at him. The closer to the door you were, the more likely you were to say no to him without hesitation.

“I can’t shut you out of my mind.” He confessed. He had shaved, but his hair was still tucked behind his ears, longer than normal.

“Just tell me.”

“I met Olivia in college.” He sighed. “We used to date off and on, but it was never more than sex. Never.”

“That’s all it is with us.” You interrupted. “Hence the reason I don’t need this talk.”

“Then why’d you come?” Henry stared. “I have been infatuated with you for months and when I finally got the opportunity to be with you, I jumped at it.”

“Don’t feed me bullshit.” You held your hand up.

“Who do you think hired you?”

“Why can’t you just leave her?” You asked.

“She knows things about me that can ruin me.” he stopped talking. “Liv is talented at getting the things she wants. If I leave her, she’ll spill it.”

“Oh, get the fuck out of here!” You laugh. “You expect me to believe this Lifetime movie shit? You got a girlfriend and you want me too. Admit it.”

“I don’t want her.” He shook his head. “I want you.”

“You can say it until you’re blue in the face. If you don’t show me, how in the fuck am I supposed to believe that this… isn’t just a way for you to get what you want.”

Henry sunk to his knees. “I’ll beg you.”

“Dogs beg.” You spat.

“Anything.” He rasped.

“Do you know how bad I hurt? I didn’t work for weeks. I didn’t care for weeks. We’ve been together a month. Do you think my behavior was normal? Do you think yours is normal? No. We are bad for one another and I just…”

How did he get up so fast? You moved back and he was on you, his steps heavy and determined. He caged you against the wall and then you realized, his face was wet with tears.

“You have to believe me.” He whispered and the fear clawed through him. “Please.”

There was an urge pushing you to leave this place, nothing good can come from him. But his face was pained, you’d never seen this part of him. You cupped his face affectionately and your lips graze his cheek. It feels as if he shutters and then you just do it. You hesitantly kiss him. Your lips touch his and the energy that passes through you ignites a groan.

“Please.” The plea is accompanied by him responding to the kiss, tenderly. He leaned into you, his body blanketing to you and taking whatever breath you thought you had left. But you were sure that he took your breath away without a kiss. His brow furrowed as he deepened it pushing your head against the door. He wrapped his arms around you, swaddling you in his muscles while somehow it wasn’t the muscles that you felt. For the first time, he was being himself with you. He allowed you to feel what you didn’t even know was there.

He pulled back from you and he moved as if he was dizzy. The breath he had stolen from you had made it's way back to you and you inhaled. There was more than a desire that flickered between the two of you.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long.”

His eyes flashed with a little hope. “Same.” Henry didn’t wait for permission he just scooped you up from the floor and kissed you again, this time it hurt. The hurt is so fucking good.

“I want,” the words were caught in your throat. Was this right or were you spiraling? “I want you, here. Right here.” He lowered you both down on the steps so that you were straddling him, you didn’t care for his comfort. You wanted him to feel you. “You remember the rules?” You whispered. Your tongue licks his lips and then dives in and he’s taken back, gripping your ass that is winding on his dick. You can feel him through the sweats. “Hmm…”

“I could never forget.”

“Don’t cum unless I say.” You smiled before kissing him again. You bucked your hips on and his eyes widened the lust pushing through. “You hear me, sir?” Your voice was low and filled with lust. “I want to fuck you right here.” He grew harder, flinching against you. “I want you to moan my name when you cum…”

Henry’s hands were in your hair, pulling you back so he could see your eyes. “I’ll do whatever the fuck you want me to, just fuck me.” He begged.

“Did you miss me?”

“Always.” He groaned lowering his head to your breast. He sprung the from the blouse and ripped it in two. “Always.”

You wanted to believe him, but the lingering hurt from the past month. “If you lie to me again,” You unsheathed him from his sweats and stroked your hand down the length of his cock. You swiped the precum that oozed from the tip down and pumped again. “Missing me is all you’ll know how to do, sir.”

“Fuck,” He jumped in your hand and sucked air in through his teeth.

“Understand?”

“I-,” He moaned when you increased your speed. “Oh fuck.”

“Yeah,” You were so turned on by the way you were making him feel. You now understood why he wanted to be in control of everything in the bed. It was sexy as fuck to watch what you could do to someone. You could watch them unravel, put them back together and do it again.

Henry pushed the pen skirt up and easily ripped the panties. He tossed them behind you and his fingers were in you. Prodding and working, you fucking missed him, even though you shouldn’t have. “Y/N.” He moaned. “I’m almost there.” He panted.

You stopped stroking him and began to ride his fingers, lifting yourself from them and then back on until the next time Henry pushed his cock in. He was fighting every urge he had to allow you some control in this thing. He threw his head back when he was fully inside of you and stilled.

But you wanted to fuck him. You wanted to ride him slow and draw out every fucking moment you could with him. So, if you regretted being here in the morning, the walk of shame wouldn’t have too much shame. Your walls sealed around him and he gripped your hips trying to stop you from fucking him, but you continued. Your rhythm was wild, you used his shoulders like an anchor and smiled down at him. His face was red and misted with sweat. His curls were soaked, and he was mesmerized. Your tits bounced in front of him and your eyes were rolling. “Y/N.” He warned and you felt his cock grow harder and then he growled, shuddering in your breast as if he had waited forever to cum inside of you.

“Seems you broke a rule.” You laughed and continued to fuck him. He made sounds that only made you wetter for him and the man was part machine. He had to be as his cock grew back rigid and he was still shuttering from coming the time before.

Henry licked his fingers and slapped them onto your clit before he pulled you towards him. His fingers knew how to work your pussy. Moving in circles and then another slap before he started back again, and you were about to cum. You didn’t want to. You shook your head and Henry looked up at you, “I won’t last another time. I ca-,” Your pussy shook around his and your thighs locked down as the pleasure surged through your body. “Shit!” He yelled before slamming into you and spilling his cum again. “Y/N.” He rasped.

The floor wasn’t a bad place to lay for the time being. Henry was wrapped around your naked body and there was no need for cover. He kept you warm enough.

“Was she the reason you didn’t kiss me?”

He exhaled. “She,” he paused. “I never know when she will decide to come back into my life.” He admits. “And up until you, it was easier not kissing, that way when it ended… there were no emotions in it. It was just fucking. I can’t do that with you, okay? A single glance from you could make my heart stop, a kiss would have shattered me.” Henry admitted.

It was quiet for a while. Just deep breaths and kisses all down your body. “Let’s go to bed.” You said finally. “My boss would be mad as hell if I missed tomorrow.”

“I’m throwing you resignation away, and if you’re having problems out of Mike… I’ll fire his ass.” He stood up and reached his hand out to you. “Come on, the bed is the proper place to make sure you’re so tired work isn’t an option.”

His bed was comfortable, the sheets were so soft you were tempted to ask where he got them. You slept peacefully entangled in the muscled mass that is Henry. But it was not a complaint to make, being without him for so long made you grateful you could listen to him breathe and feel his heart against your back.

“Thank God.” The unfamiliar voice came from the bottom of the bed.

Your eyes narrowed as the bright sun made its way through the windows. The blonde hair was the first take away, it was Olivia. You scrambled from under Henry’s body. “Henry!” If she wanted a fight, you were ready to fight her, you’d just prefer to not be naked while doing it.

Henry groaned and once he caught sight of her he jolted up from the bed. “Olivia. You’re not supposed to be here.”

“Don’t be rude. I was just saying thank God.” Olivia leaned over his legs and looked at you. “I hated watching him mope around here. He looked like a puppy, sad because his bitch went away.”

“Bitch? I beg your pardon, Henry if you don’t get this woman.” Henry gave an admonished look to Olivia and gripped your hand. It didn’t comfort you. It just pissed you off. You snatched your hand away from him. “Who the fuck do you think you are?” One more foul word from her and you’d fight naked.

“Excuse my manners, darling. I’m Olivia and I am so glad you are here. It seems we have some rules to introduce.” She pushed up from the bed and left the room. “Chop, chop Henry, dear. Bring your bitch, I have a plane to catch.”

#henry cavill #Henry Cavill fandom #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x y/n #laketa j writes

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literaphobe · 3 years

Note

did u watch the exile arc? there’s a lot of reasons why ppl think c!dream is irredeemable and why most of his actions aren’t “just human”. i mean he killed someone as a fun lil experiment, emotionally and physically abused, attempted to isolate and condition someone and that’s not even an extensive list, that’s just to one person he’s affected. these things aren’t “just acting human” or him acting like regina george. he’s actually powerful. he uses and abuses that power against ppl vulnerable and go against him bc he can. c!dream ... my abhorred.

i did! i’m not excusing any of c!dream’s actions actually, ur more than welcome to hate and despise him but i don’t like that some people dehumanize him n act like he was just “born evil” or that other characters aren’t/won’t ever be capable of similar evils. that he’s the “ultimate evil” or some cartoon supervillain because it really waters down his character? i also don’t like the “dream has no emotional attachments and never loved or cared about anything on the server” thing people like to push

like. just because he SAID that doesn’t mean it’s true. and i don’t like the rhetoric it pushes. because it’s assuming that the people who love and care for you can’t hurt you? which is untrue? sometimes people can love and care and still do horrid things that are unforgivable. i think it’s a disservice to assume that only c!dream is capable of all the evil things he’s done, and i think what he’s done is Try to cut off emotional attachment and feelings etc but imo he hasn’t succeeded. idk what will make him properly realize that but i think he should. like i’m not asking for a c!dream redemption arc where everyone forgives him fjskdksdj like. i love c!tommy. he NEVER deserved anything c!dream put him through. he deserves to never forgive c!dream. don’t worry, i’m not one of those people who thinks “it was actually all c!tommy’s fault n actually he abused c!dream!!!” like, no. that is not what i’m getting at

what i’m getting at is that this is like. a story. and c!dream is. one of the biggest characters. i like thinking about the future of his arc. and i think that he should be allowed to heal and do better for himself? and understand where he’s gone wrong n how he fell to such dark depths and how to like. not go back there? i definitely don’t want a “redemption arc” in the traditional sense, where he gets acceptance and forgiveness from everyone. but i think given the trajectory of certain characters on the smp right now? there’s definitely some people who will be able to relate to his descent into darkness

like i just. think its untrue that he “doesn’t care”. imo the reason why he wanted power in the first place n went through such despicable underhand ways to get it is because he cared. and i think it’s untrue that he never cared about tommy. i think the reason why he was able to hurt c!tommy so much was because they really were good friends at some point. like, c!tommy genuinely felt cared for by c!dream at some point in their friendship because he actually did care. and in his own sick twisted way he does still care? his sense of right and wrong at this current point in canon is SUPER messed up but if he didn’t care c!tommy wouldn’t have gotten to canonically kill him twice + almost succeed on the final one. and me bringing up that he cares isn’t meant to make him more sympathetic btw. its just to like. assert his humanity lmao. because its humans that do fucked up shit like that. its the ones you hold the closest that can hurt you the most

and like ok. him killing c!tommy in prison. very messed up. very messed up reasoning. but dying in the dream smp world where revival is a possible thing isn’t on the same level as getting murdered in our real world? its still fucked up to do of course, and it was fucked up to ‘tease’ c!tommy about doing it again, but like. some of y’all talk about it like its how murder is like in our world. and it’s..... really not fjdjdjd. but yeah. i just want to see more of c!dream because i think he is an interesting and entertaining character. that’s it really. i’m not here to spit in the faces of people who don’t like him but honestly i wouldn’t care about dream smp lore that much if c!dream weren’t actively involved in it. which is why i care about his humanity because humans can.... change. whether they deserve forgiveness is irrelevant to that imo i just want to see processes of change being enacted gkdkfdk does that make sense. i genuinely don’t wish to downplay any of c!tommy’s trauma and struggles as an abuse victim myself and i hope no one takes it that way

#ask #abuse mention #dream smp #mcyt #like..... theres a bunch of other things i could get into here #but its already so long n i p much answered ur question so i won’t go on anymore in this ask #i’m not interested in redeeming him!#there’s a difference in being redeemed n wanting to see a character do better things #i think thats more interesting than just seeing c!dream fight everyone over n over again #if every ‘season’ of dream smp is just everyone/someone versus c!dream #its gonna get old lol

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sellyoursoulforagoodfic · 3 years

Text

Could/Should/Did: Steve Rogers--Could

Could

Steve Rogers x reader

Word Count: 1070

Summary: How it could have gone: tell him the truth.

Note: This is the New 52 timeline for DC, and the weird shit mentioned later has to do with that.

“I guess we should have that talk now, huh?”

“I guess so.”

Pause.

You cleared your throat awkwardly, the sound echoing in the room. “So . . .” Your eyes flicked over to look at your sins on display in the form of that cursed wall of weapons. “You know that I don’t have a 9 to 5 right?”

“Yeah, I kinda gathered that. I figured you had some military training based on the way you act a while ago. Been around enough army guys in my time to know the signs.”

You nodded. Again, sound pierced through the quiet apartment when your duffel landed on the table. You could only describe your next actions as being put on autopilot when you started pulling gun after gun out to display the rest of your arsenal, topping the pile off with a collapsible bo staff once your practiced hands reassembled it. “So, I’m a mercenary.” Unfortunately, you seemed to have developed your father’s tact when it came to uncomfortable situations.

Steve’s frown tightened, but he stayed silent.

“Have been most of my life, honestly. Dad started teaching me how to take care of myself pretty much as soon as he found out I existed.”

“The dad I’ve never met and you’ve never mentioned?” Spite was something unfamiliar in those normally kind eyes of his. “That dad?”

“Steve . . .” you sighed. “I work with him,” you continued, defeated. “We take jobs that pay well and kill bad people.”

“And if the job is for bad people?”

You closed your eyes. “Depends on what the objective is.” You wouldn’t cry. You wouldn’t. “The price . . . is also a deciding factor.” If you were going to do this, it was going to be the full truth. Even if it hurt. Full stop. You wouldn’t make excuses or try to explain that if a job was for a really bad person, you and Slade always tried to make sure whatever plan they had failed after you got paid.

He looked disappointed, but your boyfriend didn’t ask anymore questions about your employers. “I had Natasha look you up.”

It felt like a hand started squeezing your heart. “Oh?” You tried not to sound panicked.

“All she would tell me is exactly what you just did. You’re a mercenary that works with your father. Said the rest was your business,” he hesitated, “but that I should ask you the specifics about your dad.” Now, he looked pleading. “Why would she tell me that? Sweetheart, what is going on?”

“You’re telling me SHIELD has files on me?” Your mind was spinning at the thought. You’d been so careful--

“What--no. She said she had to use some other sources.”

Good. Dad’ll be happy to hear that at least. You steeled yourself. “This part can’t leave this room. Steve, if you love me still, you have to promise me that. Even if you want nothing to do with me after.” He couldn’t imagine the danger you would be in if people found out that the person Slade worked with was his daughter.

And Steve, in true golden retriever form, simply nodded. “Okay. Just tell me what this is all about.”

“My dad had a job down in Gotham once,” you started. “Found himself going toe-to-toe with the Bat, which is damn impressive when you consider what the old man can do, but that’s beside the point. Well, Dad ended up taking cover in some hotel or another and ended up fucking my mom. Nine months later, I’m born. When I was, like, five apparently I got a little strange. I could lift my mom, skinned knees would heal in minutes instead of days . . . Standard enhanced human stuff.

“So she gets in touch with the guy she fucked all those years ago after a lot of digging and one particularly helpful butler. He comes running, and starts teaching me what’s what, and has been around ever since. Even through those horrid teenage angst years when I’d scream at him for just . . . a lot of stupid bullshit. Said he didn’t want to repeat the mistakes he made with my half-sister.” You paused long enough to take a deep breath. “Basically, this is an extremely long-winded way of saying that my dad is Slade Wilson. You might know him better as Deathstroke.”

Steve was silent for a while after that, fingers steepled in front of his face. “The man who was injected with a serum that was based on mine?”

You swallowed thickly but nodded.

“And his abilities were genetic?”

“Kind of? Rose’s and Joey’s are a little different.”

“But yours aren’t.”

That tone didn’t sound like a question, but you nodded again nonetheless.

“So all those times you needed me to lift something, you were lying.”

Your throat tightened. “Steve, I’ve had to hide the truth about my abilities--”

“No. You lied to me. I know how it is to live with those kinds of abilities, but you didn’t trust me enough to tell me the truth.”

“Steve--”

“Where were you during the Battle for New York?”

“That was before we met--”

“There was a damn alien invasion!” It was rare that Steve raised his voice at you, so you couldn’t help but jump in surprise, instincts still on-edge from the mission. His shoulders slumped. “Sorry.” More calmly, he continued, “We could have used someone like you and Deathstroke.”

Tears tried to well up, but you forced them back. You knew full well how he would take the truth of where you’d been. “Dad . . . had some weird shit going on. We were--” you had to swallow again. “We were hiding with the League of Assassins at the time.”

Of course, Steve knew who that was. He’d been briefed on them for a mission not long ago. If you were affiliated with them . . . He couldn’t stomach the thought. Without saying a word, he rose to his feet.

“Let me explain,” you were pleading before you really realized it, “there were people after us, trying to kill us--”

He cut you off, “I’ll send someone to pick up my stuff later.”

And with that he just . . . walked out of your life.

In the hours that followed, you wanted nothing more than to scream and cry about your loss, but you knew it wouldn’t do you any good.

Instead, you made a phone call. “Uncle Billy? I need you to find me a job.”

“Strapped for cash already?” he teased unknowingly.

“No.” Your voice was cold. “I just need to kill someone.”

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #captain america x reader #captain america imagine #marvel imagine #dc imagine #nyx au #could/should/did

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agent-jones · 4 years

Text

In Defence of Gwendolyn Elizabeth Cooper

Okay, I want to start this out with a few DISCLAIMERS. First, this is probably going to be a long post, so buckle in. Second, I just want to say upfront that I DO NOT CONDONE the mistakes Gwen has made. Defending and understanding her are far different from actually condoning what she’s done and I figured I would put that blanket statement right here at the top. I know she did Bad Things. This isn’t to excuse that, it’s to explain, maybe, why she did what she did and perhaps people can gain a new perspective on Gwen Cooper in the process.

Okay. Leggo.

I asked for people to send their reasonings for not liking Gwen and I did get a few responses, so THANK YOU to those who messaged me! Everyone was very polite about it and I’m very grateful for that. The overwhelming reason people seem to hate Gwen is how she acted in regards to her relationship with RHYS. There is a lot to unpack there so I’m going to put all of the Rhys stuff in one section, and then move on to the other reasons I’ve seen about the fandom.

Rhys

Cheating on Rhys with Owen.

The thing about Torchwood is that they deal with the shittiest parts of the Universe. Suzie was right about that. Gwen came in not really knowing what she was getting herself into. Suddenly, she’s thrown into this chaotic, messy environment where she’s almost killed on basically a daily basis and she comes home from work and she can’t talk about it. She has to pretend to Rhys that she spent the day pushing paperwork, when actually the deadliest alien in the Universe tried to cut her head open with scary conversion tools and a member of their team ended up being the reason for it. She deals with trauma on a daily basis and the one person she should be able to talk to, who should be able to hold her and let her fall apart to him, isn’t allowed to know. Of course she feels isolated, wouldn’t you? Our partners are supposed to be the people we go to for support and help, but she literally cannot tell him a single thing about her life anymore. But she gets home and she has to it there and think about everything that scares her and all of the horrible things she sees, the death and destruction and tragedy, and she can’t say a single thing about it.

So, of course the idea of being with someone she can talk to is tempting, being with someone who shares her experiences and can truly empathise with her fears and help her through this new, and tragedy-filled, way of life. Why wouldn’t she want that? Owen offers it. Owen. Who knows she has a boyfriend, who literally says “I torture people in happy relationships,” comes to her and says “you can share these things with me.” And lost and unable to talk to anyone else but him, she gives into the temptation. Because, maybe this is better for her than having a partner who can’t be allowed to know the new Gwen Cooper: Torchwood Operative. Maybe she can finally have someone who will hold her and help her through things she can’t share with her boyfriend.

Flirting with/“Throwing herself at” Jack

Not going to lie, this one really bugs me when I see it. Why? Because Jack Harkness instigates pretty much every flirtation they have. The gun range scene: Jack sensually moving against her body to “show her the proper way to shoot.” Kiss Kiss Bang Bang: that cellar scene, where he caresses her arm and gives her this line about coming back for her [ after he had just said the same thing to Ianto so ]. Her wedding: the nostrovite was the one to lean in to kiss Gwen, the one to say “sometimes you meet someone who knocks your world off--” whatever the wording is. That nostrovite, using Jack, knew that he flirts with her like that, for it was the one making all of the moves.

Jack is this enigmatic, BEAUTIFUL man who swoops into the life of Gwen Cooper, shows her that the Universe is bigger than anyone could imagine, and flirts with her, looks at her like she’s the most special human being on Earth. It’s no surprise she got a crush. It happens. But never, does she throw herself at him, in fact he always seems to be the one trying to do something, even though he also knows she has a boyfriend and consistently reminds her to keep hold of that life. Yes, she kissed him in Day One. But you know who else kissed Jack Harkness even though she had a boyfriend? Martha Jones. People make mistakes. It was the heat of the moment where Jack saved this girl that Gwen cared for and was so scared was going to die, she saw Jack act gentle and kind and yes, she made a mistake. But, it happens.

If you’re going to crucify Gwen for making very human mistakes such as this, it’s unfair to crucify her and not the men who played just as big of a role in it. They’re in no way innocent and to turn Gwen into this horrid, cheating slut and not condemn the men for knowingly throwing themselves at her despite her relationship status is really, quite frankly, sexist and a double-standard.

Drugging Rhys

A horrible decision. Wrong. Yes, she did something incredibly invasive and absolutely not okay. She did it because she was spiraling. The thing with Owen had ended and I truly believed Gwen realised that she needed and loved Rhys, that he was the man for her and she needed to hold onto that. But, she was still holding back secrets, there were still things she couldn’t tell him. She was feeling guilty and wanted to tell Rhys the truth. But, if he left her because of it? That’s it. She loses her life outside of Torchwood, she loses the one thing keeping her grounded on Earth as the Universe tears into her at work. Of course she’s terrified and yes, it made her do something incredibly not okay. She took away Rhys’s ability to choose for himself.

She shows remorse for this, obviously, when she refuses to retcon Rhys at the end of Meat. She won’t do that to him again, won’t take away his right to know what he knows. And then again at their wedding. Jack offers them both retcon and Gwen says no, no secrets anymore. In that moment, Rhys’s face almost seemed disappointed that they weren’t going to forget that hellish day, that maybe he wanted to remember it in a way that didn’t involve aliens and their families almost being torn to shreds. But, Gwen has learned from her mistake. She won’t do it again.

Also. Gwen is not the only team member who has done something like that, in fact they all have:

Owen: took away the agency of two people by spraying them with a perfume that made them want to have sex with him. Two people who didn’t want to before they were drugged. That is date r*** and it is very bad. But, Owen is forgiven by the fandom for it. He’s loved and not bashed.

Jack: literally retcons anyone who talks to him for too long.

Tosh: dug around in the inner-most private thoughts of the people around her, invaded the deepest crevices of their minds and peered in on their secrets. This is absolutely not okay.

Ianto: clearly took advantage of and manipulated Jack in order to save Lisa. Got two innocent people killed, nearly got the entire team killed, and then allowed Jack to be given to slave traders and killed, before changing his mind and rescuing him. These are really horrible things, and yet he is the fan favourite.

Gwen has done no more wrong than the rest of the team. This is the point of Torchwood: flawed human beings doing what they can to save the world and that “flawed” descriptor is for Gwen too.

“She’s a Bitch”

Oh I’ve heard this one a few times and it always confuses me. She’s a bitch? When? When was Gwen ever mean to anyone?

When she thought the thing about Tosh’s boots over jeans look being out of fashion? First, it was her private thought that Tosh had no business listening to. Second, it wasn’t thought in a mean-spirited way, she was simply making a fashion observation. We all do it. It does make us bitches to point out when things have gone out of fashion. Tosh was more of a bitch to Gwen when she found out about her and Owen in Countrycide “didn’t take you long to get your feet under the table.” That’s a bitchy and petty thing to say, but no one is calling Tosh a bitch.

Is she ever a bitch to Rhys? Not that I remember [ of course beyond the everything up there ]. But, there are moments where Rhys is a total ASS to her. Her new boss runs up to her saying there’s an emergency and that she’s needed, what does Rhys do? He screams at her “SIT THE FUCK DOWN, GWEN” in front of her boss. That is not an okay thing to do, ever. Then, there’s the moment in Adrift when he says something like “sometimes I really hate you, Gwen.” He says this to his wife because she’s going through something very hard on her that is making her question the Universe and because it’s swaying her decision on if she wants to bring kids into the world, he says he hates her. At this point, he knows what she sees, knows what she goes through on a daily basis and doesn’t bother to take into consideration that she’s stressed and traumatised when trying to get her to make huge life decisions.

Gwen has emotions, but she’s never flat out mean to people, but there have been times where others have been cruel to her, and they aren’t hated for it.

“What she said at the end of Meat was uncalled for”

This is what she says:

GWEN: But none of you have any partners outside of this. JACK: But we understand how you feel. GWEN: No, you don't. No, you don't, Jack. You all think it's cold and lonely out there. But it isn't for me because I have him.

She isn’t wrong. She doesn’t say anything cruel about the team. She points out the fact that they can’t understand what it’s like to have to hide her ENTIRE life from her partner. Jack and Ianto have a relationship, they’re partners yes, but they can actually talk about how hard the job is, they can talk about Torchwood and the shit they see and how it affects them. Is it so wrong for Gwen to say they can’t understand how she feels that she can’t? The entire team apart from her have been so entwined with Torchwood for so long that they don’t have lives outside of it, and that’s what she’s saying and she’s not wrong. Why hate her for pointing out the truth because she wants to be able to talk to the person she loves about the harder parts of her life?

“She acts superior to the team”

This one I see a lot. That people seem to think she somehow acts like she’s better than them, that she acts righteous somehow. But, that’s not what she’s doing. I’ve made a post about this before, but I’ll sum it up here. Jack hired Gwen because he needed someone with a new perspective, someone who could see how what they do affects civilians and help them use that to work better. He brought her in to remind them that they need to do better by the people of Cardiff.

And that’s what she does,

She calls them out for being callous about Carys because that’s what Jack hired her for. The girl was dying and to her, it seemed like they didn’t care and so she spoke up, like Jack had asked her to do. She realises that she’s wrong in a way and she adjusts how she goes about it. Jack consistently reminds her why she was brought on, to call them out when they needed it and to remind them that there are human beings that are affected by what they do and they should care. And then when she does that, the fandom hates her for it. Don’t hate her for doing the job she was brought in to do.

Her Miracle Day speech

The Gwen in Miracle Day is not the same Gwen who peered over that parking garage barrier to spy on Torchwood. She saw the worst of the Universe, she watched as so many people died around her. Her friends all died horrific deaths. She was yanked by Jack into this whirlwind of a life, into the chaos and destruction that was Torchwood-- and then he left her.

GWEN: Are you ever coming back, Jack? JACK: What for? GWEN: Me.

He says nothing and leaves anyway. She begged her best friend to not leave her, after the last of her friends was killed, and he basically said she wasn’t worth staying for. How could she not be broken after that? As two people very close to me have said [ credit to @cxptained and @agent-sato ]: everyone else on the team was brought into Torchwood already broken, Torchwood took them in and put them back together again. Gwen came into Torchwood whole. She had a life and was happy. She lived, but she was SHATTERED. Torchwood took her and broke her.

So yes, she says something that is horrible. She says that when everyone else died and she survived, she felt better than them. But sometimes we have thoughts that we don’t control, we have thoughts that we know are wrong. She knows it’s wrong. Eve’s acting? You can tell that she had those thoughts and that she felt horrible for having them.

Not to mention, she says this as she’s trying to get her baby daughter back from strangers who have kidnapped her. She’s desperate and terrified and angry and her daughter is in danger. Her mental space is horrible right now. She was abandoned by Jack, broken by Torchwood and when he appears again and she’s dragged back in? Her daughter is put in danger. But she also missed Torchwood and Jack. She’s terrified and lost and conflicted and she said something bad. But she knows she is wrong.

And So...

Gwen Cooper is a human being. She is a character in a show where ALL of the main characters are written to be flawed and complicated and to make mistakes while saving the world. She was put through so much and it seems as though she’s blamed for the fact that it changed her and led her to making decisions she may not have made had Torchwood not dragged her in.

She deserves more than how she’s treated by the fans.

#torchwood #gwen cooper #ianto jones #captain jack harkness #owen harper #toshiko sato #rhys williams #long post #; y'ALL THIS IS SO MESSILY WRITTEN BUT I HOPE YOU GET IT #; idk i hope maybe this at least gets some people to see her differently #; maybe?

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well-shit-im-a-morosexual-now · 3 years

Note

I'm here, queer, and I want a summary for the new lesson (whenever you get around to playing it of course)!

-35 Anon

NEW FIC + LESSON 44 SUMMARY

Hii! I'm sorry this took like a week BUT as an apology/compensation I wrote a lil' something based off this lesson :D ;

Familiar Strangers

Mammon gets a little more time with the strange angel his little brothers picked up and picks up a few things of his own.

ok ok so this lesson holy shit??? This is probably one of my favourite lessons!? It just gives so much and ahhh it was so good! It gives more angel backstory and lore, shows what got Levi into anime in the first place and answers the question I asked in the previous lesson summary; about why Mammon made a pact with MC in the first place when he said in lesson 43 that he wouldn't make a pact with a random human. And look i'm too excited to wait to reveal this in the end (plus with the way om lessons are structured there won't be a big reveal, just a gradual realisation) so im gonna reveal it here immediately.

LESSON 44 SPOILERS

MC once again fucked up the timeline :')

MC's the one who got Levi into anime in the first place. (but the only reason they got him into anime was cause they already knew he liked anime but he liked anime only because they got him into it and so on and so on, one whole horrid circle)

A time paradox was already in play at the very beginning of S1, meaning MC's first meeting with the brothers was never in S1 but instead thousand of years before the main storyline even began. Meaning MC was never a random human and holy shit???????

I'll talk more about MC and Mammon's pact after I summarise everything, as well as about their sins and their lives in the Celestial Realm Vs the Devildom cause everything is blowing my mind . Additionally, even though Mammon shares more or less equal screentime with his brothers in this lesson it adds a ton of character depth to him and i adore it.

Ok so the lesson starts with;

Mammon, Beel, Satan & MC bursting into Asmo's room. Mammon yelling about how he's gonna kill Asmo cause of the leak, only to find his room empty. They check his bathroom (which in my humble opinion is the first place they should have checked, but then again this is asmo so maybe they wanted to keep that as the worst case scenario option), MC says they should turn the water off immediately and mammon confirms that yeah if lucifer is actually still alive and finds out about this all of them will be murdered on the spot. They find Asmo passed out in the bathroom. MC uses the healing spell they learn back in s2 to take away some of his pain. All 3 brothers seem very worried and when Beel asks Asmo if he's okay, he says that he's not but that MC kissing him may make him better (my man's on his death bed and still tryna smash, an absolute icon). Mammon immediately tells Asmo to go die, and Beel says he shouldn't have worried about Asmo cause it was a waste of energy. and look that instant turnabout is peak comedy :'). Asmo calls them out on being assholes and that he does still feel dizzy and Satan says that if he's able to joke about he's fine. Asmo says that he still wants to sleep it off and that he wants MC with him. Satan once again proving that he's the best brother says that him and Mammon will go make soup, Beel will clean the bathroom and that MC can take Asmo to bed. Asmo gushes about how good Satan is and Satan blushes (a year ago this sentence would have been so messed up wtf happened). in bed MC ends up telling Asmo all about their day and Asmo gets sad about not being able to go to the cafe, MC complains about Simeon being a sadist who put them to work (or they can invite Asmo to come the next time) and Asmo says he's jealous that he wasn't there to see them all suffer. Asmo says that while he was asleep he had a dream that he was still an angel and that it's been so long since he's seen Michael who was stunningly beautiful and who was gushing about lucifer, and that he was glad he didn't run into raphael cause he scared him. MC falls asleep while Asmo talks.

MC is woken up in a bright forest by angel Asmo, who asks them what they were doing sleeping in a place like that and says he has never seen MC before. MC can ask him what he's doing dressed like an angel or can ask him if he's actually asmo. He basically says either i've always looked like this unless you're talking about my nails which i painted a different colour or duh obviously you know who i am, who doesn't. He then asks MC who they are. They can ask him if he has forgotten them or if he's kidding. He says either that if they'd met before he wouldn't have forgotten them or that he always means what he says even if people think he's kidding and then asks for their name. MC can ask if they are dreaming - Asmo takes it as them flirting with him/using a cheesy pickup line which he thinks is adorable - or they can ask where they are - the celestial realm. Asmo asks them if they work for Raphael cause Asmo had snuck into the human world to go to 'something called a party' which he had never been to before and that he'd had a lot of fun. But that raphael says 'it's a wicked and immoral thing'. He then asks MC what they think. MC gets to either say that it's up to him to decide or to agree with raphael. If you choose the first option Asmo is suprised, and then says that since it was so much fun it'd be a tragedy never to experience it again and that he thinks he should be allowed to have fun. Asmo had found MC while he was hiding from Raphael who was pissed about the party. Asmo goes to propose something to MC but gets cockblocked by Beel. Asmo asks beel if he could open the celestial realm gates, beel says no and then asks who the fuck MC is. Asmo introduces Beel as a cherubim and a guardian of the gates of the Celestial Realm. And says that Beel is a very famous angel, and that there's a rumour that lucifer recommended Beel to be promoted to seraphim. Beel says that lucifer hasn't mentioned it to him and that it's just a rumour. Beel asks MC if they are okay and if Asmo has tried anything on them cause Asmo hits on anything that moves. Asmo gets pissed and says that it's not that he'd happily sleep with anyone but that he cares about who they are and that he feels love towards everyone he meets. And that the reason everyone loves him so much is cause he loves everyone due to his ability to see the good in people. Beel changes the subject by telling MC they look hungry and offers them a few sweets he got from Michael. MC basically goes wtf why aren't you eating them. He says he's not hungry and that he has eaten too much recently and gained weight and is now on a diet. MC probably looks like they had a stroke cause Beel asks if they are okay. MC tells him that they like the fact that he eats a lot. Beel blushes before asking Asmo if that's a compliment and if he's supposed to thank MC. Asmo who's pissed off snaps at beel about MC and Beel flirting while ignoring him. Beel says he came here looking for belphie.

Beel proceeds to shake a tree until Belphie falls out... Belphie takes one look at MC and asks what the fuck a human is doing in the celestial realm (i forgot that this was back when he still liked humans and thought we were back to square one and he was about to start throwing hands). MC can say 'You think I lool like a human?' vs "Excuse me? What are YOU doing here?'. for the second option Belphie just says screw you I asked first. For the first he's confused that they are not, Asmo saves MC's ass either by telling Belphie to go get his eyes checked while Beel says MC's an angel. Belphie says he does detect angelic vibes from MC (Lilith's bloodline???) but also something humanlike. Asmo says Belphie probably senses that cause all he ever thinks about are humans and Belphie says it's cause humans are interesting and wishes he was born as a human. Asmo yells at Belphie not to say things like that cause if Raphael finds out they'd be in trouble. Beel asks what they are gonna do about their new lost angel and Asmo asks if they can keep MC. Belphie says no cause they're supposed to bring lost angels to Lucifer (how often do angels get lost????). MC gets to choose whether they want to go with Beel, Belphie or Asmo to find lucifer. I chose Beel cause he was anyway going back to Lucifer with Belphie (⚡⚡Efficiency🌟🌟) which is when belphie finds out lucifer's looking for him cause he skipped a meeting. '???' cuts in with a "Mmhm, I THOUGHT I heard some awfully familiar voices..." it turns out to be Mammon who's been looking for all of them (minus MC for a change and isn't that the weirdest thing to happen in all this).

Asmo scolds Mammon for scaring him and tells him not to appear outta thin air like that (that's such a 'Lucifer Trait' tho that i don't think we've seen from Mammon before?) - Mammon says he'll do what he wants. He then asks if MC is Asmo's 'newest plaything'. Asmo says no but can you imagine tho😍 After Belphie and Beel introduce MC as a lost angel, Mammon sounds oddly skeptical and says he's never heard of an "MC" before. Beel introduces Mammon as a throne who acts as Lucifer's assistant. He says that Mammon can be trusted cause outta all the thrones he's Lucifer's most trusted. Asmo says that Mammon used to be a troublemaker and that Michael hadn't known what to do with him but that he's grown into someone who, more than anyone else in the Celestial Realm, can do anything he puts his mind in to. Mammon says he doesn't like the way Asmo introduced him and Belphie says it's true though cause they all thought Mammon was just a step away from being cast out (fdshgfwdygds explains why Lucifer worries so much over Mammon in the present cause he's gone back to being a troublemaker). MC can ask about 1.) the being cast out thing - Mammon says the others are exaggerating even though things have changed. 2.) being a throne - blushing Mammon says that he was an archangel and that Lucifer recommended him as a throne. 3.)question him about being able to do anything - he snaps at them for looking disbelieving and says he's talented. Belphie says mammon used to be awful and ngl these made me laugh - mammon brought back pigeon feathers from the human world and tried to sell them to the lower rank angels by telling them they were Raphael's feathers, he also ordered around the army of angels for fun and said he was playing angel chess. Mammon says they were just innocent pranks and were no big deal and MC ever the enabler agrees with him. Mammon says it seems like MC's actually got some sense and says he likes them and that they're cool. Mammon then stutters and asks MC why they're staring at him 'like that' and imagine the amount of shit going through MC's head at seeing Mammon like this? From all the brothers he's arguably the one they're closest with (even if it's not in a romantic sense) so seeing him in a world where he's respected by his brothers and has this kinda calm confidence that he doesn't have as a demon, imagining what must have happened between then and the present for things to change the way they have, finding out he's still a troublemaker, still wholly Mammon, and just has to squash down those urges here, remembering all the times the more responsible side of him came out as a demon and getting to see a version of himself where that side is more prominent. Seeing him so easily say that he likes them without any of the protests he had as a demon. Realising that Mammon's more 'tsundere' characteristics are all a defense mechanism to protect himself from opening up and being hurt and that in the present after realising they genuinely care about him he starts dropping them. realising that as both an angel and a demon he took a look at them and thought 'this one, i like.' Just!??? Ah. :). Anyway back to the chapter- He starts blushing and tells them to stop staring. Belphie asks Mammon if he wants to be like Lucifer, blushing Mammon asks so what if he does. Belphie says that's never gonna happen so he should give up while he's ahead (made me wanna punch him) and that Mammon is not Lucifer and is instead Mammon and that he can't become something he's not (made me wanna hug him). Mammon tells Belphie to shut up and asks why he cares anyway and that with enough time one day he might do it and that he doesn't care what belphie says and that they should just watch him. and isn't it sad that Mammon will never get that time, and yeah it's a good thing that now as a demon he's just being Mammon without trying to be lucifer but he was never given the time to figure that out for himself and it explains all the issues/complexes Mammon has regarding Lucifer and shit imagine losing MC to the man he respects and loves but who he will always see himself as second best to and who he was always trying to reach, the man he believed he could have become until the fall and until he gave up and let his sin and his more real self takeover?? Since Mammon never had the time to realise that it's better to be yourself than someone else if MC ends up choosing Lucifer he'll always have that 'what if' in the back of his head and that shit hurts dude. MC can then say something about them all really loving Lucifer, Mammon blushes and stutters and said that nobody said anything about loving lucifer. Beel, Belphie and Asmo all say they love Luicfer (but not his lectures). Mammon growls and says he hates them and Asmo calls him out on being really obvious about loving lucifer as well, Mammon blushing says he doesn't. Or they can tell Mammon they're rooting for him. He's suprised and then stutters and blushes and asks if they really will. Then still blushing and stuttering he tells MC to stop staring at him like that again. MC's such a pining idiot i can't handle it. Beel changes the subject and asks why Mammon was looking for them. Lucifer had sent Mammon to find the twins cause Beel never returned with Belphie. He also tells Asmo that Raphael was walking around with his spear looking for him. He then calls them to head to the Celestial Palace. Asmo says that if the Seraphim find out about MC it'll make things worse and who knows what they'll do to all of them. They decide they should hide MC someplace.

Inside the palace Mammon yells at MC to stop looking at everything with wide eyes (did this happen before? when he was showing them around the devildom during the first lesson? I can't remember but my love for parallels is praying it did) cause they're already sticking out by being a bunch of high ranking angels gathered together. Asmo tells Mammon he needs to be nicer. He says that there's no reason to worry cause Lucifer and the others are on the higher floors. Belphie says that this makes it the perfect spot to hide when they wanna skip work. MC says that even angels need a break sometimes. Asmo says the seraphim are bossy and never cut them any slack. Beel asks MC if they are close to any other angels. If MC says Luke no one knows who that is cause the baby hasn't been born yet🥺. If MC says Simeon, Belphie's surprised and Beel says that outta all the Seraphim Simeon's the most easygoing. AND holy shit??? During the last lesson Simeon said he was an archangel which means that he was demoted at some point?????? And considering how close he was with Lucifer and possibly the others as well,,,,,,,,,,could it be possible that he was demoted after the fall? That though he didn't come with them he helped them escape in someway? or looked aside while they escaped? or knew about Lilith and her human? Or knew Lucifer was becoming more disillusioned? Belphie says it's not that Simeon's easygoing but rather that the others are too intense. Mammon asks if they should hand MC over to Simeon and Asmo says another Seraphim would spot them before they reached him. They stop outside their secret room aka the slacking off room. When the door is opened MC and possibly Beel get drenched in water while Belphie, Asmo and possibly Mammon manage to jump away. "???" says that to get entry they need to say the secret phrase.

belphie asks if they really need a secret phrase and levi says they never know when the seraphim will show up, mammon says that if they do show up a secret phrase wouldn't stop them from coming inside. Levi says whatever and asks who MC is. Asmo scolds him for the way he worded the question but still introduces MC. Levi suspects that MC is one of Michael's agents who was sent to verify that levi is 'as much of an useless waste of space as I seem to be'. MC snaps 'That's not true!' and Levi is startled and blushes. And Mammon, holy shit Mammon says what in my humble opinion is one of the funniest lines in the series,: "That's right, Levi. It's not true. I mean, just look at MC's face... See that absentminded stare... like there's nothin' going on upstairs? Does that look like the face of one of Michael's agents? I don't think so." WHY did he have to come for MC so hard!???? this came literally outta nowhere and it made me laugh so hard??? Worst of all? it made me realise a horrid horrid truth; Mammon considers himself a morosexual I'm in tears???? Levi says it's better to be absentminded than to be a waste of space. Belphie says that Levi commanded Lotan and the army of angels in the war against the demons and was basically their general. Beel says that now that the Celestial Realm is at peace Levi feels like he has no purpose. Asmo says that someone from the younger generation took over the Devildom which is why the war ended, though Mammon says the transition isn't official yet. Levi tells them to shut up and Mammon tells him that sitting around being grumpy wouldn't do anything and that he should at least enjoy them being at peace. Levi says that he doesn't wanna hear that crap from Mammon cause Mammon being Lucifer's favourite means he can be an airhead and still have his future secured, while levi would be a dead weight, a leach and a burden to the entire realm without a war to fight (and i mean a lot of what levi said is pretty messed up but Mammon did get promoted from a warrior to Lucifer's right hand possibly after the war was over? while Levi's still a general in a realm at peace). When mammon gets pissed off at Levi's comment the others say that considering this isn't the first time that levi got into one of these moods mammon should just ignore him. Levi immediately latches onto that and says that they shouldn't interact with an useless bore of an angel like him cause it's just a waste of time. MC suggests that Levi find something else he can be passionate about and he says that there's nothing else for him. MC can recommend either anime or manga. since he doesn't know what these are MC then explains it to him in detail. he's interested but doesn't think a boring angel like him could actually get interested in anything like that (oh baby...). Belphie and Asmo are surprised that MC seems to know so much about the human culture when even Belphie doesn't know this much. '???' voice finds them and says it's interesting how much free time they seem to have. Kinda sad to find out that Levi got into anime cause he needed something to make him feel less useless in the aftermath of a war...

The brothers all freak out about being found by lucifer, who yells at Mammon for not bringing the twins to him and at Beel for not bringing Belphie and then at Belphie for oversleeping and missing the meeting and at Asmo, who he says should take care of the situation before he finds himself at 'the pointy end of Raphael's spear. do you think the Seraphim have divisions that they each head? Lucifer doesn't seem inclined to punish Asmo for breaking the rules like he would have in the Devildom and rather lets Raphael take care of it. Mammon trained under Michael before he met Lucifer - so when he was an archangel. And now as an archangel Simeon works for Michael. It's implied previously in this lesson that Lucifer had other thrones working for him. So? Lucifer then asks who MC is. MC says 'I know you' which makes Lucifer's affection meter go up but he says duh obviously you know me, everyone does (and I mean this in the most affectionate way possible but like what a fucking asshole). Asmo introduces MC as a lost angel and says they were planning to find Lucifer. Lucifer asks if they decided to hide MC cause they were scared the other seraphim would find out and this brings up so many questions - How mean exactly are the other seraphim? We know that the brothers are scared of Lucifer but comparatively Asmo's terrified of Raphael and Mammon of Michael. What exactly would the others do to a lost angel? Ik they said simeon was the most easygoing but is it possible Lucifer's the nicest? I mean he did adopt 6 oddball angels, he seems to be trying to help them rise through the ranks, he seems to deal with lost angels regularly, he knows about their slacking off room and hasn't told the others (to be fair tho if anyone needs a slacking off room it's lucifer), they trusted him not to get mad about their room and about the weird 'angel' they found... Mammon changes the subject by asking Lucifer if he was supposed to be heading down to the devildom, when Levi asks why he'd go there, Lucifer says the price is asking to meet with him. Lucifer's says he doesn't like going but that it's his job and that he doesn't have a choice. with the free 50 pulls I got the devilgram about this first meeting and holy shit?? Lucifer was such a bitch and Diavolo STILL took one look at him decided 'damn I'm gonna love this man'?????????? Also the prejudice the angels have against the demons is just??? Lucifer was surprised that education was a thing in the devildom????? The fact that diavolo wanted not just peace but to build a bridge between the three realms and lucifer didn't believe him cause 1.) ew demons are evil but more importantly 2.) 'if that was possible why hasn't my father tried to achieve that?' - just them showing lucifer slowly starting to question everything he was brought up with and his father who looked up to and practically hero-worshipped?? The symbolism of Lucifer finding the devildom clothes he was provided with more comfortable than his angel's armour? Lucifer warming up to diavolo in the end and i dunno guys it was such a good devilgram. i also got the devilgram where lucifer gets jealous of Barbatos, sulks about it, then whines to MC and finally tries to bake cookies for Diavolo... it's not significant to anything i just needed to say that out loud. Back to the main storyline; MC can ask him whether he doesn't like demons or whether he doesn't want to go the devildom. his answer to both is basically 'ew of course not'. He then tells MC he'll ask Michael to help them. MC tells him to have fun with Diavolo and to be friendly. Lucifer is shocked cause it almost sounds like MC knows Diavolo, and he says they're odd cause he feels like even though he just met them it doesn't really feel like that. Asmo agrees and says when he talks to MC it feels like he's talking to someone very dear to him. Mammon's surprised it's not just him who feels that. Belphie says it's a mysterious feeling and Beel says maybe they've all met somewhere before. Levi says maybe MC reminds them of someone they know. Belphie says: "Hey, wait a second. Does MC remind you of Li-" He's cut off by the whole screen going white and '???' saying 'oh dear, what a mess...'

The voice laments about how often Solomon messes shit up, and asks how he could possibly create food that has odd effects on both humans and demons, and that it can't even be classified as food anymore and should be considered a magic potion. They say that Solomon doing these kinda shit without even realising is the worst part. The voice says that MC's consciousness was sent to the past through their dreams cause of Solomon's cooking and that solomon had created an immortality elixir by accident too once. the voice says that despite being a decent human with a good head on his shoulders Solomon can sometimes be more troublesome than the demons cause despite the way he acts he doesn't actually understand his own power. The voice says they'll send MC back home and that they'll forget everything that happened but the effect they had on the brothers as angels will carry on to the future and that in order to ensure the effect doesn't have negative consequences someday the voice will keep an eye on MC from now on. And that the voice will have to think about Simeon as well. They say goodbye until they meet MC again. MC wakes up next to a sleeping Asmo in his bed. When Beel tells them they're finally done cleaning up the bathroom MC tells him they had a wack dream but that they can't remember what it was, Beel says maybe it's something they're better off forgetting. There's a locked chapter that i can't open :')

The lessons over but I've got notes so hear me out!

1. ) The paradox of Mammon and MC's pact- in the previous lesson Mammon said he doesn't make pacts with random humans except as far as we knew then MC was a random human when he made the pact with them. Mammon being the fastest of the brothers also means he could have easily gotten Goldie back without making the pact. This lesson reveals that MC was never a random human and that they'd met thousands of years prior to their 'first meeting' and though neither Mammon nor MC would have remembered that meeting the effect of it would have still carried on. The effect of MC supporting Mammon's schemes and his dreams, the effect of him being flustered by them, of them staring at him in a way that made him blush, of him deciding he liked them, of him feeling like he already knew them and being able to comfortably tease them. And it's probably all of this that led Mammon to make a pact with them. Except MC was stared at him and supported him as an angel cause they already knew him and cared about him as an angel cause they had a pact together and were friends. tldr; the only reason Mammon made a pact with MC was cause they were familiar to him, the only reason they were familiar to him was cause they were nice to him when he was angel, and the only reason they were nice to him as an angel was cause they already had a pact with him and were friends and so on and so on.

2. ) They have so much freedom in the Devildom holy shit??? They went from having a council of scary vaguely sadistic control freaks to just one. They can do whatever they want without any real consequences while in the Celestial Realm a party was seen as something evil? None of them have any real duties in the devildom while they were so busy in the celestial realm they needed a secret room to slack off

3. ) the seraphim seem so much more controlling than diavolo? I mean the man takes any excuse to throw a party and is currently whining about not being allowed to go the human world. While in the celestial realm just talking about wanting to be human is a punishable offence. And yeah sure you could say that I'm comparing the past celestial realm vs the current devildom and that the current celestial realm has probably eased up a lot EXCEPT 01.) in the devilgram with Lucifer's and Diavolo's first meeting Diavolo seems exactly the same as he currently is. 02.) Luke - who is a fairly new angel- 's attitude when he first arrives in the devildom is scarily similar to Lucifer's attitude in the devilgram where he first meets Diavolo 03.) the angel event proves that the Celestial Realm still has a set view on what angels should be like and that the brothers never fit this view

4.) Forming of their sins - the brothers were definitely the odd ones out in the celestial realm even if they were pretty famous and they all had less intense versions of their sins even back then. MC who knows them for only their sins, reinforced them when they were angels which probably led to them embracing these sins more, which would have helped with their fall and with fully developing their sins

5. ) I feel like we might actually get to see michael???? They've been dragging and teasing about finally meeting him for so long.

Pls come talk to me about this lesson! I'm desperate rn i need to hear more thoughts and theories!

#asks #answers #obey me spoilers #obey me #obey me shall we date #shall we date? obey me!#swd obey me #obey me!#obey me mammon #om! mammon #swd mammon #mammon x mc #mammon x reader #my fics #my fic #fics #fic

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thattimdrakeguy · 3 years

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I find it odd that people are just willing to attack people over a preference of character. Like, Tim fans that say anything about Damian, positive or otherwise, get rants about how they don’t understand his character, and how Tim is the worst, etc etc etc. People who literally just transcribe what he did in the comics are not immune either. How can any fan be so deluded to callously attack people for not loving a character unconditionally?

I got this ask like, yesterday and completely forgot to answer it cause when I saw it I went to go watch Jurassic Park and just absolutely forgot to respond when I came back. But I’m really sorry about that. I don’t know if that’s a rude thing to do, but I feel rude for it. I feel bad.

But like, when it comes to stuff like this, I’ve had absolutely awful experiences. But I got rambly, because I am so tired right now. So I put it below that thingie, cause it went on a while.

Trigger warnings for like, talks of pedophiles and such. Which makes my stomach curl having to type that, but here we are.

I’ve noted stuff Damian did in series they like, because they always act like they’re some gold standards when Damian’s still doing horrible stuff in them, and they’ll act like I’m hating on Damian. When acknowledging that he did stuff that makes the whole anti-hero thing make more sense, is not hating on him. I just accept him for who he is, without having to freaking woobify or change him so I don’t have a bad conscious about enjoying him.

I literally just look at it like that with the viewpoint of “In context, and looking at what he still does, this is not out of character. They just aren’t ignoring it, or not treating it like how they probably shouldn’t”. That is it.

And yet for that, I got called jaded, racist, a child-hater. Literally had someone give a verbal request for people to to “repress me” which is essentially asking for me to be group bullied. An account was made just to harass me (maybe two actually). And for a part of the post where I acknowledged that looking at a panel where Damian was naked made me viscerally uncomfortable. I got called at first, childish, and then someone made a joke about me being a pedophile.

When the reason why I was uncomfortable, was because I have fucking PTSD over a pedophile attempting to groom me, and they had naked pictures of Damian. Like fucking excuse me for having trauma and a bad life experience.

Like they went to that level, just because I acknowledged more about their favorite than they would. They are that deeply ashamed of him.

But all it proves to me, is that chunks of his fandom encourage being an absolute terrible person. They defended each other. They seeked and got reassurance from each other. A dude named DamiFucker jumped in, and I didn’t see them shut down the actual fucking pedophile. They didn’t give a shit. Because it isn’t about reality. It was just about trying to make me look bad.

Which by the way. Having every bad thing said about me, be not true, is oddly kind of a confidence maker, because they couldn’t find a valid thing to complain about me for. They had to exaggerate or just lie about it like they do everything because they can’t just calm down.

All for acknowledging something Damian legitimately did, in a recent comic, that they act like he’s just some innocent kid in.

Someone told one of them to kill themselves, and they acted like I DID IT. They done fucking thought they were getting close to revealing personal information about me, by revealing I’m some Scottish high school teenage girl or some shit. And I am genuinely sorry that it ever happened to them, but I am not at the control of other people, and had already told people not to do that before a lot of them even brought it to my attention.

When also, about the Scottish thing, I don’t even use the proper spelling of someone from the U.K. They just wanted to get me that deeply so bad they didn’t realize.

Of course after that they blamed it for me anyway, even though I am not responsible for other people’s actions. I didn’t even tell anyone to do it.

Instead of taking responsibility for their own heinous actions, they instead try to just make me seem as bad as possible. Like I am not a fictional character which makes it ridiculous, because I can defend myself, and I have far more legitimate respect from others as well for being a genuinely good human, and intelligent at that.

And this isn’t even the first time I’ve gotten shit for stuff like this.

There was a person who harassed me for months till I finally blocked him, just because, I said that Damian was actually really tall originally, and they just changed it just to do some cheap jokes. And I thought that was ridiculous just to make a character out of character just for something like that.

Some of them take little things like that so seriously, because they have this specific view of him, that if disrupted. They can lose it.

I’ve gotten told to kill myself many many times over shit like this.

I literally say what happened in a comic, or my basic opinion. My most negative stuff is about how terribly his stories are written a lot of the time. Something I do with my own favorite.

And they give it attempts to run my fucking life, for real, over it.

Like the Tim fandom are not saints. No fandom is, but they are not freaking worse than any other fandom. The idea that the Tim fandom is the worse is ridiculous and is just said because they’re so far up their own ass in ignorance that they won’t acknowledge their own actions.

They have to make stuff up in attempts to make them look bad. If you have to make stuff up, or exaggerate stuff, or highlight stuff that the other fandoms literally do all the time. You should just fucking acknowledge that it is not the worse.

Even just for Tim himself they always have to make stuff up, or exaggerate stuff to make him look worse than what he is.

If you have to do that for anything, a real person or not, you don’t truly hate it nearly as much as you think. You’re just a bitter angry person, looking for something to hate.

This stuff was months ago for me. It is not something I’ve thought about every day since like, the few weeks after it happened.

But I’m just acknowledging this because they can be so utterly reprehensible and yet they still have the victim complex. And this ask reminded me of it.

Obviously, it isn’t like the whole fandom. Like do I think literally everyone who likes Damian is a shithead? Obviously not, ya know. It’s just that unfortunately that fandom has some real toxic attitudes. There are good people there, that are probably just as confused by it themselves. They can excuse actual pedophilia as long as they’re attacking the same actual living human, but they draw the line at openly acknowledging something their favorite character actually did in a comic that they themselves like.

They even admitted they didn’t read the fucking thing.

Basically, just get out of town acting like the Tim Drake fandom is the worst fandom. I’m in the tag everyday, and the worst I see is some people being too obsessive, and JayTim. And I think JayTim is like, disgusting, but if someone’s here reading it like “Oh, but I ship it”. I’ll also say that I don’t care if you ship it, because fandoms are freaking weird and I accept that. As long as you’re not a gross person in real life, I ultimately don’t care anymore. I don’t get it, but what ever. As long as it’s not pedophilia, in which case, I’m genuinely going to judge you. But even then JayTim is more of a Jason fan thing as far as who their main fav is.

Basically, if transcribing character actions gets a downright horrid response that involves attacks and worse, then the people attacking should probably get a new favorite character, because they obviously can’t freaking stand them.

I didn’t even say it in a negative context either. Just: “This new story makes more sense than you think, because if you look here, and--”.

I got really ranty. I just woke up and this ask gave me weird memories from a while back that I needed to ramble about cause it’s still hard to process.

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